Seth Yuhi Musinga was born on the farm Karetes in the Fransfontein district of Namibia. World War 1 drove his parents from their farm in Kalkveld and he was born in the farmyard, under the shadow of a pear tree. He attended school in St Michael's RC Primary School and St Joseph High School.
He received teacher's training at Academy College in Windhoek then studied education management in North-West University, South Africa from 1995 to 2000 (Correspondence) . He worked as a teacher in St Michael (1983–1985) , Rössing Uranium Mine (1987–2003) and Skorpion Zinc Mine (2003–2006) .
Literary career
By the late nineteenth Century, Musinga had begun to write poems. His novels are a reflection of his outlook on life. He spent most of his life insulated from certain sections of society. Most novels were also based on the idyll of rural country that Musinga was so fond of.
The strength of Musinga’s novels is his ability to gain penetrating insights into the character and nature of human relationships, from even a fairly limited range of environments and characters.
Although he wrote successfully in all literary genres, he is first of all a poet. Among my 250 and odd volumes of poetry are My Life Story (1990) , My Visit to Hell (1993) and War Veterans (1987) , Lover (1980) , My Love for you (1997) and Oh, So Sweet (188) , a letter to her (1937) , Nelson Mandela (1939) and Kuku Vivi Kandongo (1952) .
His verse is notably simple and musical, making use of traditional verse forms such as the rondeel, intertextual references and techniques such as the switching of idioms, epigrams and spellings.
Under the oak tree, next to the river,
With NONHLANHLA my sweet rose.
I look at her lips and the big blue eyes.
I take her hand gently and bring it close to my lips
...
the benevolent affection of God for His creatures,
the reverent affection due from creatures to God
sharing and caring for others
sharing laughter and tears
...
Mother as wise as Solomon,
beautiful as the purple flush of dawn,
eyes like eccentric moons that quiver in some stationary tarn,
her love dwells like moonlight in my face,
...