Ndumba J Kamwanyah
Namibia is once again in the spotlight because of corruption. This time it’s not the Fishrot but the state-owned oil company, NAMCOR. Thirteen individuals, including entities, Have been charged in connection with a corruption scandal involving over N$500 million. This is not just another news story. It’s a serious reminder of how deep corruption has grown in our country, and how much work is needed to fix it.
What’s shocking is not only the amount of money involved, but the network involved and how long it took for action to be taken. Signs that something was wrong were there for everybody to see. For years, media outlets, academics, and analysts have long warned that corruption in Namibia, especially within state-owned companies, is not merely incidental, but systemic — deeply embedded in the very structures meant to serve the public interest. The Geingob administration blatantly refuted this claim. In the case of NAMCOR, these warnings have proven prescient. Despite repeated calls for transparency and accountability, yet nothing happened. This tells us that corruption has become a normal part of how things are done in Namibia and many state-owned companies.
Psychologically, this mindset—that corruption is normal—has become dangerous. Many people among us now believe that if you don’t take what you can while you’re in power, someone else will. It’s the idea that “everyone is doing it” making Namibia the land of greedy. Here’s the thing: This way of thinking weakens our morals. It makes us stop feeling guilty about doing wrong things, because we think it’s just how the system works.
At the same time, there’s a feeling of entitlement among some leaders and politicians, believing that they deserve special treatment because of their position or history. They think they’ve earned the right to benefit from public money. This belief makes them ignore rules and act as if they are above the law.
Corruption in Namibia is also kept alive by group behavior. In the NAMCOR case, it seems it wasn’t just one person acting alone but awhole coordinated network . It was a network of officials, companies, and insiders working together. In such an environment, speaking out becomes risky. People fear losing their jobs, being targeted, or being left out of the “inner circle.” This kind of silence allows corruption to grow stronger. The discipline of psychology suggets that when wrongdoing becomes part of the group culture, even good people get pulled into it.
On the other hand, many of us feel powerless to fight back. We see leaders and those in powerful positions stealing left and right without punishment and think nothing will ever change. In psychology this feeling is called fatalism. It makes people give up hope. They stop voting, stop protesting, and stop caring. When the people lose hope, the corrupt individuals become even more powerful.
The truth is, most people don’t start off wanting to be corrupt. But over time, small compromises lead to bigger ones. At first, someone might approve a small deal to help a friend. Next they start looking the other way when something illegal happens. Slowly, their view of right and wrong changes. They convince themselves that what they’re doing isn’t really bad. This is how people lose their sense of ethics without even realizing it.
There was also something deeply troubling about how the situation at NAMCOR unfolded. The sudden arrest of the board chairperson on drug charges—timed just before a crucial meeting to decide the fate of the Managing Director—raises serious questions about the direction in which corruption in Namibia is heading. This incident gives the disturbing impression that we may be entering a new and dangerous phase, where high-stakes power struggles are being settled through intimidation, framing, or elimination—hallmarks of mafia-style tactics. If such patterns continue, it could signal a breakdown of institutional integrity in Namibia and a shift toward a culture of fear and manipulation at various levels of governance.
But, with the arrest, there is a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, the recent arrests show that there is political will to act. The President has spoken strongly against corruption and given visible warnings to those institutions entrusted with the responsibility to burst corruption. This is a good start. But action must go beyond speeches and a few arrests. We need deep changes in our systems. Cast the net widely must be casted widely, not just NAMCOR or Fishrot.
That means giving our anti-corruption bodies real power and independence. It means making sure ministries state-owned companies and ordinary citizens alike follow the rules, and that board members are chosen based on honesty and skill—not political connections. It also means protecting whistleblowers who risk everything to speak out. If we don’t create a culture where people feel safe to report wrongdoing, we will never stop corruption.
We must also engage the public. Civil society, media, and ordinary citizens must speak up and ask hard questions. Corruption thrives in darkness. The more we shine a light on it, the harder it becomes for it to survive.
Most importantly, we need to change our mindset. Corruption is not something “normal.” It is not our culture. It is a choice—made by individuals, encouraged by weak systems, and allowed to continue by silence. We can no longer afford to look the other way or shrug our shoulders.
Namibia is at a turning point. This moment could lead to real change, or it could become just another scandal that we forget in a few months. The difference will come from what we do next. Do we hold those responsible fully accountable? Do we fix the broken systems that allowed this to happen? Do we start rewarding honesty and integrity?
If we are serious about fighting corruption, we must act on all levels—from government to communities to individuals. The path forward will not be easy, but it is necessary. Our future depends on it.
Corruption is the enemy within. It steals from the poor, weakens our democracy, and breaks our trust in leaders and politicians. But it can be defeated—if we have the courage to face it head-on.