Namibia’s loss of nearly 30,000 employers in just five years is not a statistic to glance at and move on from.
When placed alongside labour figures showing that only about 550 000 Namibians hold formal jobs and just 115 000 are registered taxpayers, the story becomes more troubling. It reveals an economy that not only struggles to generate employment but also fails to sustain the businesses expected to create those jobs. As a Black Namibian entrepreneur, I read this not as a collapse of imagination or ambition, but as evidence of deep, long-standing structural weaknesses in our economic foundation.
The late development economist Thandika Mkandawire argued that African development problems rarely stem from a shortage of ideas; the real deficits lie in institutions that are too fragile to support those ideas.
Namibia embodies this tension. We are not short on innovation or drive. Our entrepreneurs are creative, resilient, and willing to take risks. Yet once a venture begins to grow, when it formalises operations, hires employees, or competes against established players, the ecosystem that celebrated its birth quickly retreats. That withdrawal happens at precisely the moment a business most needs stability and reinforcement.
Industrialist Aliko Dangote often notes that enduring enterprises are built beyond mere enthusiasm. Namibia offers plenty of enthusiasm but too little dependable institutional backing. Innovation here is championed only while it remains modest and unthreatening. The moment a new venture competes with entrenched interests, be they long-standing local companies or dominant foreign corporations, the environment often shifts. Rules become fluid, regulatory processes unpredictable, and market access unexpectedly restrictive. In practice, Black business is tolerated as long as it stays within limits that do not disrupt established white-owned enterprises or their networks. Without such approval, opportunities narrow and obstacles multiply.
This mirrors what Kenyan scholar Calestous Juma described as the “politics of technology”, where incumbents resist change to maintain advantage. In Namibia, this resistance is often subtle and polite, but no less damaging. It ensures that promising businesses rarely mature into large-scale firms capable of reshaping industries.
Our entrepreneurial deficit, then, is not a shortage of creativity. It is a shortage of institutional protection, structural robustness, and fair competition. No matter how talented its leadership may be, an enterprise cannot thrive in an economy where foreign firms enjoy easier access to incentives, capital, and procurement, while local businesses, particularly Black-owned ones, navigate the system alone.
As economist Dambisa Moyo reminds us, “Capital is a coward; it flees when there’s uncertainty.” If we want Namibian enterprises to scale, they must feel supported, not exposed.
Agriculture offers a clear example of these structural vulnerabilities. Many Black farmers operate on land financed through expensive loans, burdening them with debt for both property and livestock.
While Namibia often celebrates cattle ownership, far less attention is paid to who controls the value chain, feedlots, abattoirs, cold storage, and export markets. These remain largely dominated by established white agribusinesses. Black farmers may own the cattle, but others capture most of the value.
The fishing sector reflects the same pattern. Black Namibians may receive quotas, but few have access to vessels, processing plants, or cold storage. This forces them into partnerships where operational control remains with vessel owners who dominate downstream activities. On paper, quotas appear empowering; in practice, they grant access to a system structured to favour those who already control its most profitable segments. Our scholar, Joseph Diescho, cautions that transformation without redesign becomes mere symbolic performance. Too much of our economic empowerment remains symbolic rather than structural.
Procurement, an essential lever for industrialisation, also reinforces fragility rather than overcoming it. Many Black-owned companies secure tenders only for short five-year periods. These limited cycles discourage long-term investment because renewal is never guaranteed. At the end of each period, public debate often insists that incumbents must “give others a chance,” even when performance has been sound. This prevents capable firms from developing continuity, improving efficiency, and scaling into industrial leaders. Instead of fostering sustained growth, procurement becomes a revolving door that rewards beginnings but rarely supports maturation.
The result is predictable: an economy brimming with start-ups but starved of survivors. Losing 30 000 employers in five years is not an accident; it is the consequence of a system that celebrates entrepreneurial beginnings but offers little protection once businesses attempt to grow. We have inadvertently created a national conveyor belt that churns out promising ventures only to abandon them before they become stable employers or industrial pillars.
If Namibia truly seeks economic transformation, it must move beyond romanticising entrepreneurship and instead build the structural conditions required for endurance. This means reforming procurement to reward competence and continuity, not turnover for its own sake. It means expanding financial instruments that reduce risk and encourage expansion. It requires regulatory frameworks that promote fair competition rather than shielding incumbents. Most importantly, it demands enabling Black entrepreneurs to evolve from peripheral participation into full value-chain ownership.
Dangote has argued that Africa’s future hinges on its ability to industrialise. Namibia cannot industrialise while its entrepreneurs remain confined to the margins of value creation, perpetually starting but never scaling. Our crisis is not one of ideas; it is a crisis of survival, continuity, and institutional strength.
We can no longer sustain an economy built on perpetual beginnings. Namibia needs institutions capable of nurturing endurance, scale, and generational prosperity. Only then will we move from symbolic empowerment to genuine transformation, producing not just start-ups, but industrialists able to shape the nation’s economic destiny.
