Honourable Inna Hengari’s motion in Parliament to confront Namibia’s growing debt crisis is both timely and urgent. It is a wake-up call for leaders across the political spectrum and a reminder that economic reform is not a partisan luxury but a national necessity. The questions she poses are not merely technical; they cut to the heart of our collective future: can Namibia sustain prosperity and inclusion while a significant portion of its citizens live shackled by unmanageable debt? To dismiss this motion as party politics would be to miss the moral and economic emergency staring us in the face.
Debt as a humanitarian crisis
Debt is often framed in spreadsheets and balance sheets, but Hengari forces us to look at the lived reality. Teachers, nurses, civil servants, and those who hold up our public services are seeing up to 60% of their salaries consumed by debt before payday. These are not reckless spenders; they are ordinary Namibians borrowing to put food on the table. In every region, from Katutura’s informal markets to Gobabis’s classrooms, the face of debt is young, underpaid, and overworked.
The statistics alone should jolt us: nearly half the population is weighed down by unsustainable debt. But the human stories are even more compelling. This is not an unfortunate side effect of modern finance; it is the product of a system designed to extract more than it gives. Hengari calls it what it is: financial entrapment. And she is right.
A system tilted against the vulnerable
Financial institutions boast about stability and high capital adequacy ratios, yet their profits tell another story. Letshego’s N$199 million profit in just six months of 2024 is not a badge of national success; it is a stark indictment. When banks and micro-lenders prosper while households crumble, we are not witnessing financial inclusion; we are witnessing a predatory system.
The fixed exchange rate with the South African Rand, once considered a bulwark of stability, has become a double-edged sword. While it protects us from currency volatility, it narrows our monetary policy options. Despite lower repo rates compared to South Africa, Namibian lending rates remain punishingly high, sometimes as high as 40%. Stability at the macro level means little when it fails to trickle down to the people. Sovereignty in monetary policy is not about abandoning the peg, as Hengari notes, but about asking whether it serves our developmental needs or simply preserves the status quo.
Namibia’s current account deficit, averaging 5% of GDP, leaves us exposed to external shocks and dependent on borrowing. We import more than we produce, and when global markets tighten, we pay the price. Hengari rightly echoes the African Development Bank’s critique of an international financial system that fails countries like ours. The rising costs of servicing sovereign debt between now and 2030 will squeeze public investment and turn our national budgets into reactive exercises. This is not ideology; it is arithmetic.
Concrete, moral reforms
What makes Hengari’s motion compelling is that it is not a litany of complaints but a blueprint for action. She calls for:
- Capping interest rates through amendments to the Banking Institutions Act, because no family should repay double what it borrowed simply to keep the lights on.
- Extending the Bank of Namibia’s regulatory reach to include informal lenders and digital loan apps, because regulation without enforcement is meaningless.
- A targeted Debt Relief Programme for civil servants and low-income households, capitalised through the Welwitschia Fund, because sovereign wealth must stabilise lives, not simply sit as a line item.
- A national financial literacy campaign, leveraging the upcoming Instant Payment Solution, because combating loan sharks starts with empowering citizens to navigate the formal sector.
These are not mere technical adjustments; they are moral imperatives. They signal that we value people over profit and justice over short-term gain.
Beyond partisan lines
This motion must not be trapped in the stale politics of party competition. Debt does not discriminate by political affiliation, and neither should the solutions. The nurses pleading with loan sharks, the teachers borrowing to survive, the young graduate drowning in student loans—they are not members of this or that party; they are Namibians. This is a national emergency, and the response must be a national effort.
Supporting Hengari’s motion is not an endorsement of any political faction; it is an affirmation that our Republic was founded on the promise of dignity and shared prosperity. To reduce it to partisan sparring would be a betrayal of that promise.
Namibia cannot be content with a financial architecture that is “resilient” on paper while corrosive in reality. We need banks that measure success not merely in shareholder returns but in the security of households. We need a central bank that incorporates household debt sustainability into its oversight. We need a sovereign wealth fund that invests not only in markets but in the resilience of our people.
Across Africa, voices are rising for a reformed global debt framework, one that values development over austerity. Namibia must add its voice to this movement. We cannot defend a global system that devours us while our own citizens are suffocated by debt.
A moment for courage
History does not absolve silence. Hengari’s motion is not only about debt; it is about the values we enshrine in law, the priorities we set in budgets, and the future we promise our children. To act is to declare that Namibia’s economy will work for the many, not the few. To delay is to deepen the crisis and to betray the very people we serve.
Parliament must rise above politics and seize this moment. Hengari has laid the foundation; now the nation must build.
