There are moments when a society must pause, look itself in the mirror, and ask difficult questions. The disturbing reports that some parents are offering bribes to teachers to secure placement for their children in preferred schools, and that some educators are accepting these inducements, represent one such moment. This is not a minor administrative lapse or an isolated act of desperation. It is a corrosive practice that strikes at the moral foundation of our education system and, by extension, the future of our country.
The Windhoek Observer commends the Ministry of Education, Arts and Culture for issuing a public statement condemning this practice and reaffirming its commitment to fair and transparent school placements. While the ministry’s response came after persistent questioning by this newspaper, its intervention is nevertheless welcome and necessary. Silence would have been interpreted as indifference. A clear stance, even if prompted, sends an important message that corruption in education will not be tolerated.
However, statements alone are not enough. What we are witnessing is not merely a failure of enforcement but a failure of values, one that involves parents, educators, and the broader community.
Let us begin with the parents. What message is being sent to a child when their school placement is secured through a bribe? That success is not earned through effort or merit but bought through money and connections. That rules exist only for those who cannot afford to bypass them. That dishonesty is acceptable if it delivers personal advantage. These are not abstract moral lessons; they are lived experiences that shape a child’s understanding of the world.
Parents who engage in such practices may justify themselves by citing overcrowded schools, limited places, or fear that their child will be “left behind”. These concerns are real, but they do not excuse corruption. When a parent slips money to a teacher, they are not merely helping their own child; they are actively disadvantaging another child who may be equally deserving but whose parents refused to participate in wrongdoing or simply could not afford it. In that moment, education ceases to be a public good and becomes a commodity sold to the highest bidder.
Even more troubling is the involvement of teachers. Educators occupy a position of profound trust. They are entrusted not only with imparting knowledge but also with modelling integrity, fairness, and civic responsibility. A teacher who accepts a bribe betrays that trust and undermines the very profession they represent. They teach, through action, that ethics are negotiable and that authority can be abused for personal gain.
This behaviour damages the credibility of the entire education system. Once parents believe that placement depends on bribery rather than process, confidence in public education erodes. Cynicism takes root. Those who refuse to pay feel cheated; those who pay feel entitled. The result is a toxic environment in which corruption becomes normalised rather than condemned.
The broader question we must ask is this: what future are we trying to secure for our children? A future in which corruption is learnt early and practised confidently? A future where public institutions are hollowed out by private greed? Or a future where fairness, accountability, and hard work still mean something?
Namibia has worked hard to build institutions founded on constitutional values and the promise of equal opportunity. Education has always been central to that vision. When corruption infiltrates school placement, it signals a dangerous drift away from those ideals. It tells our children that the country they are inheriting is one where shortcuts matter more than character.
The Ministry’s statement must therefore be the beginning, not the end, of action. Clear reporting mechanisms should be established and widely publicised. Investigations must follow credible allegations, and consequences must be real—both for those who offer bribes and those who accept them. Transparency in placement processes must be strengthened so that parents can trust the system rather than feel compelled to manipulate it.
Equally important is a national conversation about values. Parents must be reminded that their greatest responsibility is not merely to secure a seat in a “good” school but to raise ethical citizens. Teachers must be supported, monitored, and held to the highest standards of professional conduct. Communities must reject the quiet acceptance of corruption as “just the way things are”.
The Windhoek Observer will continue to shine a light on this issue, not because it is comfortable, but because it is necessary. Corruption in education is not a victimless crime. Its victims are the children who learn the wrong lessons, the families who play by the rules and lose out, and the nation that pays the long-term price.
This worrying trend must be confronted decisively. Our children are watching. What we tolerate today is what they will practise tomorrow.
