Namibia is once again mourning. Eight lives, fathers, mothers, children, breadwinners, dreamers, lost in an instant at Oniimbwele village. The images and reports from the scene are gut-wrenching. A nation stands in grief, united by sorrow but also by frustration, because deep down, we know that much of this tragedy was preventable.
Every holiday, every long weekend, every festive season, the pattern repeats itself: twisted metal, flashing sirens, tears by the roadside, and the haunting wail of families shattered forever. Then come the statements, the condolences, the promises, and we move on. Until the next one. This cycle of mourning without meaningful action must end.
A nation numbed by repetition
The road carnage has become a grim national ritual. We have lost count of how many times we’ve written these words: “Our thoughts and prayers are with the bereaved families.” But thoughts and prayers, though necessary, are not enough. They cannot resurrect the dead or heal the broken. They cannot hold accountable those who drive recklessly, overtake on blind corners, speed through villages, or get behind the wheel drunk. Nor can they reform a system that too often looks the other way when bribes are exchanged under the cover of night.
Let us speak plainly, many of these accidents are caused by us. Not the government. Not fate. Us, the motorists who treat the road as a racetrack, who drive fatigued, distracted, or intoxicated. Us, who believe a bribe to a traffic officer erases a wrong. And yes, those officers who accept those bribes are complicit in every death that follows. Both giver and receiver have blood on their hands.
The truth is brutal: we have normalized reckless driving. We see taxis overloading passengers, buses racing each other between towns, private motorists texting while driving, and trucks speeding downhill as if the laws of physics don’t apply. Yet, we rarely intervene, rarely report, rarely confront. We shrug and say, “That’s just how it is.”
But it doesn’t have to be this way. Personal responsibility must once again become the bedrock of road use in Namibia. Every driver must remember that the steering wheel they hold can either be an instrument of transport, or a weapon of death. The choice is theirs, and the consequences are ours.
This is not about blaming one group or class of drivers. It is about acknowledging that the roads belong to all of us, and so does the responsibility to use them safely. Speed limits exist for a reason. Seat belts are not decorative. Indicators are not optional. Drinking and driving is not “funny”, it is a crime.
Enforcement must match the scale of the crisis
While individual responsibility is crucial, enforcement remains the backbone of any road safety culture. The reality is that law enforcement on our roads is often weak, inconsistent, and at times, corrupt. There are far too many stories of officers turning a blind eye for a small “cold drink.” Every time this happens, another reckless driver is set loose on our roads.
We call on the Namibian Police, the Roads Authority, and the Ministry of Works and Transport to treat this as the national emergency it is. Roadblocks must not just be seasonal events around Christmas, they must be constant, coordinated, and uncompromising. Traffic fines must be enforced. Licenses must be revoked for habitual offenders. Public transport operators who repeatedly violate safety regulations must lose their permits, permanently.
Equally urgent is the need to table the long-delayed Public Passenger Road Transport Bill, a crucial piece of legislation designed to bring accountability and order to our chaotic transport system. Lawmakers must stop treating this as paperwork gathering dust. It must be debated, passed, and implemented now. Too many lives have already been lost waiting for action.
How we drive is a reflection of who we are as a society. If we drive recklessly, bribe easily, and shrug off tragedy, it says something about the erosion of our collective conscience. Respect for life must be visible in how we move, how we drive, and how we respond when others do wrong.
When we see an overloaded taxi, do we report it? When a drunk driver gets behind the wheel, do we take the keys? When a video of a deadly crash circulates on social media, do we share it, or do we stop the spread out of respect for the dead and their families? These small choices define whether we are truly a caring nation or merely spectators in our own decline.
We must also confront another uncomfortable truth: parts of our road network are not fit for purpose. Narrow lanes, poor signage, unlit stretches, and dangerous curves are silent contributors to many fatalities. The government must accelerate infrastructure upgrades, especially in high-risk corridors. But let us be clear, even the best roads in the world cannot protect us from human negligence. Technology can help, but discipline must lead.
As the school holidays and festive season approach, we appeal directly to every Namibian behind the wheel: slow down. Buckle up. Rest when tired. Do not drink and drive. Do not gamble with lives, your own or others’.
Parents, talk to your children. Employers, enforce rest breaks for drivers. Transport companies, maintain your vehicles properly. Government, enforce your laws. And citizens, refuse to bribe, because when you do, you buy not convenience, but someone else’s coffin.
Let us make this tragedy at Oniimbwele village the turning point, the moment Namibia decided that enough was enough. Let it be the last time we mourn in this way.
We can’t bring back the lives lost, but we can honour them with action, by changing our behaviour, demanding accountability, and building a culture where every life on the road matters.
Condolences alone will not save us. Only courage, honesty, and collective action will. The time for talk is over. Namibia must act, and act now.
