In a recent OpEd published in this newspaper titled “Discovery Is the Easy Part: Why Capital Discipline Determines Frontier Offshore Success”, Fernando Sylvester delivers a sobering reminder to nations and investors alike: the true test of offshore resource development does not lie in discovery, but in the discipline that follows it. His argument is both timely and urgent for our country, as we are now standing at the threshold of potentially transformative offshore hydrocarbon wealth.
Sylvester notes that frontier offshore discoveries have an outsized effect on perception. Markets react in hours. Governments issue triumphant statements. Partners congratulate one another. Value appears, almost magically, to be created overnight. Yet, he warns, much of that value quietly erodes in the 24 to 36 months that follow, not because the geology was wrong, but because the decisions made after discovery are premature, misaligned, or built on assumptions that collapse when confronted by reality.
This insight should ring loudly in Namibia’s ears. Our recent offshore discoveries have captured the world’s attention. They have ignited investor interest, diplomatic excitement, and public expectation. A narrative has taken hold that Namibia is on the brink of instant prosperity, that the hard part is done and the rest will simply follow. That belief is not only inaccurate; it is dangerous.
Discovery proves that hydrocarbons exist. Development proves they can be extracted profitably, sustainably, and within real-world constraints. Between those two points lies a long corridor of decisions about governance structures, fiscal terms, local content frameworks, partner alignment, infrastructure planning, and capital deployment. It is in this corridor that nations either secure enduring prosperity or squander a once-in-a-generation opportunity.
The central question for Namibia is no longer whether resources exist. That question has been answered. The real question is whether we will manage these resources with patience, prudence, and institutional integrity, or whether we will allow the intoxicating scent of perceived instant wealth to lure us into rushed decisions and corrosive self-interest.
Sylvester observes that disciplined entrants into frontier offshore provinces are distinguished by what they refuse to assume. They model delay risk as rigorously as drilling risk. They anticipate partner misalignment and design governance accordingly. They treat local content not as a box-ticking exercise but as a structural design principle. In short, they understand that judgement preserves value long after discovery attracts it.
Namibia’s leadership, political, institutional, and regulatory, must now adopt the same discipline. There is a growing danger that offshore wealth is being viewed as a feeding trough, a space where proximity to decision-making translates into personal enrichment. Already, whispers circulate of power plays, jockeying for influence, and attempts to position state institutions as gatekeepers not for national interest, but for private gain. If such tendencies take root, Namibia risks repeating a well-worn African tragedy: abundant resources yielding abundant corruption, while citizens inherit disappointment instead of prosperity.
State organs and public institutions exist to serve the nation, not to serve as instruments in personal wealth accumulation. Officials entrusted with policy, management, and regulatory authority must remember that they are custodians, not claimants. Their primary obligation is to safeguard national interest, ensure transparency, preserve investor confidence, and build frameworks that benefit Namibians across generations, not merely those in office today.
Investors, too, are watching. Capital in frontier offshore ventures is mobile, cautious, and acutely sensitive to governance risk. Where institutions are weaponised for personal battles, where policy shifts unpredictably, and where regulatory processes become bargaining chips, capital quietly departs. Value erodes long before a single barrel is produced.
Namibia cannot afford that erosion. We must therefore caution against a rush to lock in deals, restructure frameworks, or renegotiate terms without rigorous analysis and broad consultation. Delay risk must be treated as seriously as exploration risk. Institutional credibility must be guarded as jealously as geological potential. Local content policies must be designed to build capacity, not serve as vehicles for patronage. And above all, leadership must resist the temptation to view investors as adversaries to be wrestled into submission rather than partners in national development.
History offers no shortage of cautionary tales. Resource-rich nations that raced ahead without discipline now struggle under debt, stalled projects, broken contracts, and damaged reputations. Others that exercised patience, enforced clear governance, and insulated institutions from personal interference have reaped durable prosperity.
Namibia still has the advantage of time. The hydrocarbons remain exactly where they were found. Nothing forces reckless acceleration. Everything demands careful design.
Discovery has attracted the world’s attention. Judgement will determine whether that attention matures into sustained national benefit or fades into another story of squandered potential.
As Sylvester rightly concludes, discovery is the easy part. Everything after requires discipline.
Namibia’s future offshore success will not be determined in drilling rigs alone, but in boardrooms, ministries, regulatory agencies, and parliamentary chambers. There, restraint must triumph over greed, institutions over individuals, and national interest over personal ambition.
If we heed this moment wisely, Namibia can build an offshore sector that becomes a pillar of long-term development. If we fail, no volume of discovered hydrocarbons will rescue us from the consequences. The choice, and the discipline, is ours.
