Book Review and Reflections: Mukwahepo: Woman, Soldier, Mother by Ellen Ndeshi Namhila

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Year of Publication: 2013
Genre: Autobiography

Introduction

Where do you begin when you have spent twenty-five years in exile, returning to a newly independent country where everything you once knew has changed or been taken away? This was the question that lingered with me throughout the final chapters of Mukwahepo. Her story stirred up a flurry of emotions—gratitude, grief, pride, frustration, admiration—and yet it is the last few chapters that truly unsettled me. They have moved me to tears, and I know this book will stay with me.

There is something inexplicably beautiful, almost divine, about reading the life story of someone from your own place. I was delighted—and stunned—when I realised that Mukwahepo was from my side of Namibia. She mentions Onengali and Odibo, both places close to my heart. I am from Odibo and Okatale, and every time I go to Okatale, I drive past Onengali. This connection made the book even more powerful for me.

My gratitude to Ellen Ndeshi Namhila is immense. She saw Mukwahepo’s contribution, recognised its historical significance, and made sure it was documented. Without her, this story, and this woman, might have remained unnamed in our national memory.

Book Summary

Mukwahepo is an ode to the first Namibian woman to go into exile during the liberation struggle: Aguste ya Immanuel, affectionately known as Mukwahepo. Ellen Ndeshi Namhila, now a prominent Namibian scholar, librarian, and author who also lived in exile, met her in the Nyango refugee camp in Zambia. Loved by many, called “Mukwahepo” as a term of endearment among Ovawambo people, she was unforgettable to all who encountered her.

Years later, now living in independent Namibia, Namhila invited Mukwahepo to her home in Windhoek. It was during this visit that she began recording her life story—conversations that eventually shaped this book.

Mukwahepo left Namibia with a man she intended to marry – Shikongo, who convinced her to go with him, and together they slipped out of the country under the cover of night, through Angola, onward to what was then Tanganyika, to join other Namibians in exile who were preparing for the liberation struggle or what we call Oita Yemanguluko in Oshikwanyama.

Mukwahepo trained as a soldier, the first Namibian woman to be trained as such and the only woman amongst men during that time. This begs the question – How is it that the first woman to go into exile is not one of the most recognised figures in Namibia today? History is usually not kind to women and their efforts, as those are often systemically dismissed or ignored – and for Mukwahepo, factors such as lack of Western education whilst in exile heightened her invisibility. Interestingly enough, it is almost as if her identity began to fade in exile, where she was renamed. Her true clan totem is “Mukwanangobe”, but she was renamed “Mukwahepo”, literally translated from Oshikwanyama as ‘of poverty’, a name that, as Namhila explained, subtly diminished her, implying poverty and erasing her identity. Mukwanangobe, on the other hand, literally translated from Oshikwanyama as ‘of cattle’, refers to the wealth of the Ovawambo people, which was measured by the number of cattle heads, amongst other factors.

Mukwahepo mentioned that SWAPO emphasised education – a truth we all know. Education was the pathway for many returnees who later became leaders, such as Dr Libertine Amathila. But Mukwahepo, older and uneducated when she entered exile, could not join primary schooling, and thus missed this crucial ladder upwards.

Mukwahepo never received advanced military training. Instead, she became a mother to the camps—caring for children whose parents had gone for military or other training, including receiving an education outside the camps, stating:

“I thought of myself as the mother of all the motherless.” (p. 154)

Returning Home

Mukwahepo recounted that SWAPO’s organisation during repatriation was impressive – well coordinated, meticulous, immense in scale. But once returnees reached their home villages, the support fell away for most and dire poverty ensued, including for Mukwahepo. She recounted:

“At the time of independence, I was jobless and without an income… I had no income, and survived each day as it came, without knowing where my next meal would come from.” (p.169)

She returned with five children she had cared for in exile, who were all eventually taken by their respective families and almost never looked back. Coming home from exile, her expectations were high, as she had served her nation before it was even formed and heartily believed her comrades would remember her. It took sixteen years before she was finally given a decent house. Later, under the 2008 Veterans Act, she received a lump sum of N$50,000 in 2011, alongside other war veterans.

Final Recommendation

Mukwahepo is essential reading for anyone interested in:

Namibian history
women in liberation movements
memory, testimony, and belonging
the emotional afterlives of exile
African women’s autobiographies

It is also a profoundly human story of endurance, heartbreak, identity, and the search for belonging in a nation you helped build.

I recommend it wholeheartedly.

About the Author

(Source: African Books Collective)

Ellen Ndeshi Namhila was born in Ondobe, northern Namibia, in 1963. She went into exile at age twelve and received her education across Namibia, Angola, Zambia, The Gambia, and Finland. She holds an M.SSc. in Library and Information Science and has held several senior roles in research, parliament, and national archives.