Sem Billy David
The current government administration came forth with soothing promises and clear objectives to move senior civil servants from private hospitals to state hospitals.
This is called Vision April 2026, a government plan issued by Her Excellency Dr Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah, directing all senior civil servants and politicians to start using public health facilities from April 2026.
She stated: “They have government medical aid, but they don’t make use of state facilities. You will find them at private hospitals.” The plan, she explained, is for senior public servants and politicians to start using their medical aid in state hospitals.
However, this new “Odendaal plan” was never clearly explained in terms of how it would be implemented. No one was informed that the government’s real intention was to further divide citizens in their access to healthcare.
The directive by H.E. Dr Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah, President of the Republic of Namibia, was announced as part of efforts to address inequalities in our two-tier health system, backed by the slogan “no one is special”, and to accelerate improvements in public healthcare services.
This created a genuine sense of hope. Namibians believed our dilapidated public hospitals would finally be revamped and upgraded to a standard where every citizen could use them with dignity.
Many expected that hospitals such as Windhoek Central and Katutura State Hospital — public tertiary referral facilities built in 1982 and 1973, respectively — would be modernised, expanded, properly equipped and stocked with medicines so that civil servants, politicians and ordinary citizens could all benefit equally.
It is indeed commendable that the Ministry of Health and Social Services has managed to procure more equipment and beds, install televisions, restore hot water at Windhoek Central, and expand Okuryangava Clinic’s operations to 24 hours as part of NDP6 implementation. We have also seen recruitment drives taking place to respond to growing demand in the sector.
Yet, serious questions remain about how these measures are being implemented and, especially, about the quiet shift in the original framework of “no one is special”. From the start, the public was not clearly told how this principle would be applied in practical terms.
The “no one is special” slogan gave Namibians the impression that health facilities would be restored and upgraded to reduce the burden on nurses, smoothen workflows, cut waiting times and ensure that all basic needs are available. It suggested a modernised system where all patients are treated equally, without special privileges for a select few.
The narrative raised hopes among low-income earners that they would finally share in the same quality of care as high-income earners — that the poor would share in what little is available and that high-profile leaders, especially politicians, would finally feel the daily pain of those they claim to represent, instead of hiding behind slogans and empty promises.
A VIP hospital inside a public hospital
Come April 2026 — the supposed implementation date of this plan — what do we actually see? Instead of a comprehensive upgrade benefiting everyone, we witness a half-hearted joke: the creation of VIP private-style wards inside public hospitals. The government now wants us to believe that this somehow reflects equality. But having two separate wards specifically for senior officials inside a public hospital has nothing to do with equality.
If equality were the true goal, why not simply improve all wards to a decent standard and, if needed, reserve a few rooms within the same ward for high-profile patients? Why are we pretending that letting VIPs pass through the same entrance gate as ordinary citizens is somehow dismantling inequality when once inside they are segregated into separate
VIP wards? These VIP wards are, in reality, just another form of private hospital — placed inside a public facility. This is a clear division of patients who are supposed to be equal under the same roof. It is another Odendaal plan in the health sector, dressed up under the name of Vision April 2026.
Are we trying to appease angry citizens, or are we further insulting them with a poorly conceived and badly reviewed plan? What do these two VIP wards offer to low-income earners? How does this arrangement benefit the ordinary citizen who cannot afford private healthcare? In practice, this system maintains two faces of healthcare:
1. Public care for the “lessers” — the so-called non-special citizens.
2. Private-style VIP care for the “special people” — senior officials and high earners.
That is division. That is a healthy Odendaal plan. The use of medical aid in state hospitals, under the current model, seems designed to benefit those who could already afford private care, while offering little real change to the majority.
What true equality would look like
A truly gratifying and just plan to eliminate inequality would start by tightening the belt and committing to a full upgrade of all state hospitals. The priority should be to make every public facility fit to accommodate everyone, regardless of rank or income. If the state wishes to reserve some rooms for high-profile patients, so be it — but those rooms should be part of the same general wards, with the same standard of care and infrastructure. That would at least send a genuine message of equality and shared experience. Otherwise, VIPs should simply remain in their private hospitals and stop misleading the public with slogans of equality.
The ministry must procure sufficient medicines and equipment and undertake serious renovations so that all Namibians can receive quality treatment. If done properly, our health system could even attract patients from neighbouring countries, boosting confidence in our own institutions and building trust within the sector.
The dilapidated nurses’ home and forgotten infrastructure
The President has praised the “standardised” Windhoek Central Hospital, speaking of prioritising dignity in healthcare, raising standards at public facilities to match private care, and ensuring equitable access to quality healthcare for all citizens. Windhoek Central, we are told, has now “raised its standard”. But on the ground, the broader infrastructure of the same hospital is dilapidated. Buildings are crumbling. Doors and windows are in poor condition. Chairs and tables are worn. Parking areas are neglected. Worst of all, the nurses’ home is falling apart and turning into a stinking cage.
There are no parks, no playgrounds and no proper cafeterias where patients and their families can rest, recover, or access basic needs. Where, then, is this raised standard? Is it only about creating comfortable rooms for politicians and high earners?
These questions cannot be ignored. Only blind eyes can look away, but watchmen like me will not be blindfolded. This is not to say I do not appreciate the efforts made or deny that some improvements have been implemented. I recognise the progress. My worry is simply: who truly benefits from these changes? Do they serve the masses, or do they mainly serve the few?
*Sem Billy David is a youth leader, community activist and community development advocate in Windhoek.
