In May 2023, I was lucky enough to travel to Namibia with Professor Thomson’s PCON 218/202: War in Lived Experience class as part of Colgate’s Sophomore Residential Seminar program. Our class explored the colonial legacies of Germany’s 1904–1909 genocide of the Herero and Nama peoples. The trip provided me, a PCON major, with a renewed appreciation for the program’s interdisciplinary approach to teaching.
In preparation for the trip, we read about colonial law, physical environments being a tool of resistance, the history of Namibian brewing as a product of coloniality, land politics, and the (im)possibility of a German apology for its genocide. We also learned from a range of scholars and activists based in the United States, Europe, and Africa, including Namibian gender activist Martha Akawa. No single reading prepared me more for this trip than any others; rather, it is the attention to historical resonances and contemporary practices over the semester that prepared me. With this knowledge, I could trace the structures and legacies of coloniality through shared experiences with the ecosystem, with travel, with the memorials we saw, and the Namibians we met, giving me a much deeper appreciation of the intricacies of Namibia in particular but the politics of violence, memory, and reconciliation more broadly.
We began our trip in the capital city of Windhoek, where we learned about the wealth disparity that exists within the city — between the sections that cater to tourists and large businesses and Katutura, a township where service workers for these industries reside. Most striking was the architecture, German colonial buildings mixed with modern hotels and office tours. On day two, we drove 450 miles to Swakopmund, a German-colonial town on the Atlantic coast with a distinctly colonial feel that was jarring in comparison to the rest of Namibia, a large, desert country with few roads or amenities.
The highlight of our visit was a walking tour with Laidlaw Periganda, a descendant of Herero genocide survivors, working to gain an apology and reparations from Germany and recognition of the genocide from his fellow Namibians. Laidlaw pointed out the racist and colonial legacies of the street names, art, statues, and festivals squarely rooted in the Second Reich. We then proceeded to the cemetery that he caretakes on the outskirts of Swakopmund. This is the site of thousands of unmarked graves for the Herero and Nama who died in German concentration camps during the genocide. Seeing these graves that stretch for miles and Laidlaw’s frustration at the lack of care the government places into their maintenance remains the most poignant moment of the trip for me, particularly as we learned in class that the concentration camps of the Holocaust are modeled on those in Swakopmund. After laying rocks at the base of a genocide memorial to pay our respects, we headed to Laidlaw’s Swakopmund Genocide Museum, which tells the horrors of the genocide that are not told in the town’s official museum.
Our fourth day was spent on the road, with a brief stop made on the Skeleton Coast, where German ships arrived before and during the colonial period (1884–1915), before heading to Damaraland. We spent the night at a campsite built into rock formations, offering a clear view of the southern skies, including the Milky Way.
Day five had us on the road again, first stopping at the Damara Living Museum to learn about their traditional medicine, dance, and jewelry. At Twyfelfontein, a UNESCO heritage site, we hiked in 120-degree heat to see some of the world’s oldest rock art. The day ended at Etosha National Park, with its one-of-a-kind Salt pan and unique watering holes just steps from our tents.
The next day started before dawn for a proper game drive, where we spent the day observing jackals, antelope, oryx, gazelles, wildebeests, zebras, rhinos, giraffes, elephants, and even a leopard before the day ended.
The seventh and eighth days of our trip were spent at the Waterberg, a tall rock plateau where German General von Trotha issued his 1904 order for his troops to exterminate Herero living in the area. We drove to the top of the Waterberg shortly after arriving and saw giraffes and a buffalo at one of the plateau’s watering holes. The following morning we were able to learn from Beni Kakao, a Herero elder who provided an oral history of how the German genocide affected him and his ancestors. We learned from Beni at an old colonial outpost turned present-day restaurant. Beni then led us on a walk to the cemetery for German soldiers who died during the genocide. Having just heard the stories of the extent to which the actions of Germans harmed his community, it was surprising to see the amount of respect Beni showed to the graves. Most individuals in the cemetery were about my age (19 or 20 years old), leading to reflection on how much they might have known about what they were doing and the lack of power they might have had to say no to German military orders to exterminate Herero and Nama.
Our ninth day was another driving day, back to Windhoek. The first stop we made on the road was at Africat, a rehabilitation center for wild cats where we were able to meet cheetahs and learn about the center’s conservation mission. We then proceeded to the town of Okahandja to pay our respects at the graves of Herero chiefs and leaders. On our final day in Namibia, we met with Wolfram Hartmann, a retired University of Namibia historian, to discuss his research before visiting the Independence Memorial Museum. There we were able to view the Rider Statue, a symbol that celebrates German colonization, in an abandoned courtyard where it has remained since Namibian activists had it removed from public view in 2013.
As we drove that evening to the airport to return to the United States via Frankfurt, I could truly say our SRS trip was an exciting and rewarding experience, covering over 2,500 miles during our 10-day trip, driven skillfully and safely by our Namibian guides, Tiki and Rueben.