There’s a running joke that Namibians are surprised by only two things every year: winter and floods. When the temperatures drop, we huddle around heaters, wrap ourselves in blankets, and say to one another, “My goodness, it’s cold.” And when the rains finally arrive, we stare at the rising water levels and say, “The floods are here!”
But beneath the humour lies a serious truth, we are rarely ready. Every year, the same cycle repeats itself: warnings go out, rains come, rivers swell, people are displaced, roads are washed away, and after a few months, we move on. Until the next rainy season. The pattern is as predictable as it is painful.
Namibia, a country known more for its arid landscapes than its rainfall, faces unique challenges when the heavens open. From the Zambezi floodplains in the northeast, through the Cuvelai basin in the north-central regions, to the southern districts where heavy downpours cause flash floods, the story remains the same: communities are vulnerable, infrastructure is weak, and our preparedness is insufficient.
The early warnings are already here
The meteorological forecasts for this season have already indicated a higher likelihood of above-normal rainfall in several parts of the country. The El Niño–La Niña patterns affecting southern Africa suggest that we may be in for a wetter summer than usual. This is not the time to wait for the first heavy downpour to react. Local authorities, traditional leaders, and national agencies must act now.
The time for reactive responses must end. The time for proactive planning must begin.
Every year, the efundja floods in the north displace thousands. Villages become islands, schools close for weeks, and clinics become inaccessible. The floodwaters that arrive from Angola do not ask for passports; they flow freely and without delay. Yet year after year, our response seems caught off guard. Evacuation shelters are hastily set up, emergency food parcels arrive late, and the same vulnerable households bear the heaviest burden.
It should not be this way.
Preparedness starts at the local level
Flood preparedness is not only a government responsibility; it is a community one as well. But government institutions, local authorities, regional councils, and disaster risk management units, must take the lead. They must map the most flood-prone areas and identify safe relocation points before the rain begins. Roads that are historically cut off should be reinforced, and culverts cleared. Drainage systems in our urban centres must be unblocked. It is astonishing how every year Windhoek and other towns experience flash floods not because of record rainfall, but because of blocked drains and poor storm-water management.
Let us also not forget the informal settlements around Windhoek, Oshakati, Katima Mulilo, and Rundu. Tens of thousands of Namibians live in structures that cannot withstand prolonged rains. Their homes flood within hours. Their possessions are destroyed. They lose not just property but dignity. If we are serious about disaster management, then flood resilience in informal settlements must be a top priority. Temporary shelters must be identified early; communication lines must be clear.
Investing in resilience, not just relief
Too often, our national approach to floods is emergency-driven, a mad rush to provide blankets, maize meal, and tents after the damage is done. But true preparedness means investing in resilience long before disaster strikes.
This includes strengthening our meteorological monitoring systems, training local disaster volunteers, and ensuring that our regional disaster funds are adequately resourced. The National Disaster Risk Management Committee must not be a seasonal committee that only meets when the sky turns grey. It should function year-round, building capacity and ensuring coordination between ministries, local authorities, and NGOs.
Floods also expose long-standing inequalities. Wealthier households can relocate temporarily, or rebuild with insurance. The poorest cannot. That is why social protection and community awareness campaigns must go hand in hand. Rural communities, especially in flood-prone regions, need early-warning systems that speak their language, literally and culturally. A radio message in Windhoek does little good if a farmer in Kabbe or Epalela cannot hear it or understand what it means.
Climate change is the new reality
We cannot ignore the elephant in the room. Climate change is no longer an abstract concept; it is our lived reality. Namibia, one of the driest countries in sub-Saharan Africa, now experiences more erratic rainfall patterns, longer droughts, and, paradoxically, more intense floods when it does rain.
This new normal requires a new mindset. We cannot continue to treat floods as exceptional events. They are part of the climate cycle, and our infrastructure, policies, and education systems must reflect that. Flood-resistant roads, elevated school buildings in flood zones, and permanent drainage infrastructure are not luxuries, they are necessities.
The cost of inaction
Every year, the same headlines appear: “Hundreds displaced by floods,” “Children stranded as schools close,” “Bridges washed away.” We shake our heads, sympathize, and then move on. But the economic and human costs of inaction are enormous.
Flood damage destroys livelihoods, crops are lost, livestock drown, and businesses close. Public money that could have been used for development ends up funding emergency relief. The psychological toll on communities that live in constant fear of the next flood is immeasurable.
Preparedness saves lives, saves money, and preserves dignity.
A call to action
So, are we ready for the floods? The honest answer, today, is probably not. But it is not too late.
Local authorities must activate their disaster preparedness plans now. The Ministry of Works and Transport must inspect and repair key infrastructure in high-risk areas. The Ministry of Health must ensure that mobile clinics are ready to move when communities are cut off. The Red Cross, churches, and community leaders must coordinate their efforts before, not after, the floods arrive.
And for every household: do not wait for the warning sirens. Check your surroundings. Secure important documents. Plan where your family will go if the water levels rise.
We cannot stop the rain. But we can stop the floods from becoming disasters.
Namibia has learnt this lesson the hard way, too many times. Let this rainy season be the year we finally prove that preparedness is possible, that we have learnt, planned, and acted.
Let’s not be surprised again.
