PAUL T. SHIPALE (with inputs by Folito Nghitongovali Diawara Gaspar)
The hidden risks in Namibia’s new petroleum bill
The founding father once upon a time spoke about how African states lost control, not suddenly, but gradually through agreements, concessions, and legal frameworks made early and justified as “necessary at the time”.
That warning was never abstract. It reflected a hard historical lesson: sovereignty is rarely surrendered in a single moment. It is diluted quietly, legally, and incrementally long before the consequences become visible.
Petroleum governance that relies on internal executive control rather than independent, enforceable oversight contradicts the very idea of resource sovereignty that underpinned Namibia’s liberation project.
This is the context in which President Netumbo Nandi‑Ndaitwah must assess the Petroleum (Exploration and Production) Amendment Bill, 2025.
Modestus Amutse, minister of industries, mines and energy, presented the bill as a milestone for transparency—evidence that Namibia is preparing to manage oil responsibly as it enters the global petroleum arena. On paper, it appears reassuring. In practice, it raises fundamental questions about how power over petroleum will be exercised, supervised, and restrained.
Namibia is not merely amending a statute. It is designing the institutional architecture that will govern its most strategic resource for decades. History shows that this moment before production, before revenues, before political and commercial pressure peaks is when petroleum states either entrench sovereignty or quietly weaken it.
Disclosure without independence is not accountability
The bill requires senior officials of the newly created Upstream Petroleum Unit to declare their interests in the oil and gas sector. This is presented as a transparency safeguard. Yet these declarations are submitted exclusively to the President.
This creates a critical accountability gap.
Who verifies these declarations?
Who audits their accuracy?
Who investigates omissions or misrepresentation?
And what consequences follow if conflicts are identified but no action is taken?
Transparency that circulates only within the executive branch is not public accountability; it is internal reporting. Effective disclosure systems work because they disperse oversight. They rely on independent review, auditability, and enforceable sanctions, including disqualification from office.
Without these safeguards, asset declarations risk becoming procedural rituals legally compliant, politically convenient, and substantively harmless.
Across Africa, petroleum governance failures have rarely stemmed from the absence of disclosure requirements. They have stemmed from disclosure mechanisms that lacked independence.
“Interests” are narrower than modern petroleum influence.
The bill refers to the declaration of “interests”, but influence in the contemporary petroleum economy rarely appears in direct or formal form.
In practice, influence often operates through:
• spouses and extended family members,
• trusts, foundations, and offshore vehicles,
• consulting contracts and advisory retainers,
• locally registered companies acting as fronts for foreign operators.
If beneficial ownership and related-party interests are not explicitly defined and captured, senior officials can comply with the letter of the law while defeating its purpose.
This loophole is not theoretical. It has played a decisive role in governance breakdowns in multiple oil-producing countries, particularly in the early stages of sector development, when institutions are still forming and scrutiny is limited.
A regulator inside the Presidency is not neutral by default
The establishment of the Upstream Petroleum Unit responds to a genuine problem: fragmented oversight and limited technical capacity. Coordination matters. Expertise matters.
But institutional placement matters just as much.
By situating the regulator within the Office of the President, the bill collapses a crucial separation between political authority, policy formulation, and regulatory enforcement.
Efficiency should not be confused with independence.
When licensing decisions, compliance monitoring, asset disclosures, and inter-ministerial coordination converge at the apex of the executive, checks and balances become internal, discretionary, and vulnerable to pressure. Even with the best intentions, such concentration makes it harder to resist political, commercial, and diplomatic influence, especially once production timelines and revenue expectations intensify.
This is how many petroleum systems became strong on paper but weak in practice.
How power would actually flow
Consider a simple scenario. A licensing decision involves a company indirectly linked through a family trust or an advisory contract to a senior official. The interest is declared, but only internally. The regulator, housed within the presidency, manages both the disclosure and the licensing process.
No independent authority reviews the declaration. No parliamentary committee sees it. No public record exists.
The system has functioned exactly as designed, and yet no external actor can verify whether the decision was impartial.
This is not a failure of ethics.
It is a failure of institutional design.
Timing matters more than intention.
Namibia’s greatest advantage is that it is early.
Countries such as Nigeria and Angola did not lose leverage over their petroleum sectors because they lacked laws. They lost it because they locked in governance structures before production began when oil companies were most persuasive, governments most optimistic, and institutional caution easiest to postpone.
As discoveries move toward development, pressure will intensify for:
• speed over scrutiny,
• rapid approvals,
• flexible interpretation of cost-recovery rules,
• discretionary decision-making justified in the name of competitiveness.
A framework that concentrates authority and limits external oversight makes it progressively harder for the state to say no when saying no matters most.
What true protection requires
If oil is to strengthen Namibia rather than undermine it, transparency must be anchored in enforceable institutional safeguards. At a minimum, this requires:
• an independent body to review and verify asset and interest declarations,
• explicit legal coverage of beneficial ownership and related-party interests,
• mandatory, published disclosures subject to audit,
• parliamentary reporting and oversight obligations,
• clear sanctions, including removal from office, for non-compliance,
• regulatory leadership protected by fixed terms and removal only for cause.
These are not radical demands. They are standard features of resilient petroleum governance systems.
Petroleum sovereignty is built before the first barrel.
Oil rarely damages countries through sudden collapse. It does so quietly through narrow legal definitions, unchecked discretion, and governance shortcuts taken in the name of efficiency.
Namibia still has time. But time only protects those who use it deliberately.
As currently drafted, this bill answers the question of who administers petroleum more clearly than it answers who restrains power over it. That distinction will determine whether oil becomes a foundation of sovereignty or a long-term source of dependence.
Parliament now has an opportunity to strengthen this framework before production begins and before pressure mounts. Once the first barrel flows, redesign becomes far more difficult.
The debate is not about whether Namibia wants transparency. The real question is whether it is ready to institutionalise it when it matters most and to confront the new Jeffrey Epstein that may emerge along this long journey.
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of our employers and this newspaper but solely our personal views as citizens and pan-Africanists.
