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Fourteen years ago I went on a trip and although I tend to forget things easily, there are certain things, like this trip, that will stay with me forever. One Monday morning during assembly, the principal of Golden Maggy Primary School informed the learners, specifically the grade 3 learners that they were as part of one of their subjects, going in a week on a field day trip to Ongulumbashe. Upon hearing this, I couldn’t look forward to my very first trip without my parents. The principal informed us that we were to take consent forms accompanied by a letter which had all the relevant details about the trip to our parents. As I handed both papers to my mother later that day and as I submitted the consent form the following day to the teacher, I was bristling with excitement. As I sat on the backseat of the bus, waiting for the rest of my class to get to their seats, I couldn’t stop bouncing my legs from excitement and nervousness. Our class teacher informed us of the rules we were to follow and reminded us that since the trip formed a significant part of our grade for this subject, we should take note of everything we are told and see at the site. The drive to Ongulumbashe was long. We made a few pit stops for snacks and a few bathroom breaks. When we arrived in Tsandi, which is found in Omusati region, we drove to the house of one of the very few surviving PLAN fighters who was our tour guide. When we arrived at Ongulumbashe, the tour guide informed us that Ongulumbashe is a settlement in Tsandi, where PLAN fighters who had a base there, were unexpectedly attacked by South African Police at a time where Namibia was colonialized by South Africa. He explained how they were just going on with their daily activities when the bombs starting falling from the sky. In addition, as he recalled the events of that day, he informed us that the motive for the attack was to capture all the fighters and because of this, they had to go into hiding. He explained that in a time where you have to find creative ways to hide, it was very hard to have a clear mind when your friends were being blown up and killed right in front of your eyes. He showed us the hiding areas and ways in which they hid from the South African Police which included, amongst other things, burying themselves in dead leaves and covering themselves in mud or pretending to be dead. He showed us the areas in which they hid for example the partially dug holes in which they hid covered with a thick layer of dead leaves. He then showed us the monuments paying respect to the soldiers who died that day. All this information filled me with great sadness at the amount of blood spilled not only on that day but also during other battles and events that took place at a time when my people were fighting against colonialism. However, on the other hand, that information also made me feel honoured that such brave women and men risked their lives so that my generation would be born in a place free from oppression. Although I was a bit young, that was the first time I truly came to know my country’s history and also the first time I got a glimpse into how it really was during colonialism. As I sat on the bus, on our way back to the school, I then understood why every year we celebrated Independence Day, my mother would be so happy and really sad at the same time. It cost us so much, as a nation, to gain freedom and every year on Independence Day, we are reminded that although the day is bittersweet, the lives lost were not lost in vain.