Last month, Namibia lost a legendary icon: Ras Sheehama. Beyond doubt, he was one of the very best among us. He didn’t just make music but used it as a vehicle for political awareness and encouragement. He spoke for the marginalised, challenged the status quo and really just made sure you were having a good time while listening to his music. His talent was undeniable, his influence profound, and his loss is truly a national tragedy.
When news broke that he had died by suicide, the nation collectively mourned. Social media lit up with shock and grief, but also with uncomfortable questions: why didn’t he speak up? Why didn’t he ask for help? Beneath the sadness, a deeper truth emerged: that Namibia has long neglected its creatives. They are pushed to the margins, left to struggle financially, emotionally, and professionally, often with little recognition for the cultural and economic contributions they make.
Ras Sheehama’s passing should have been a moment to collectively reflect on how we treat our artists. Yet, barely a month later, another unsettling incident occurred: Jericho was pulled off a programme organised by Lifeline Childline Services Namibia for their 45th anniversary celebrations. While we are not interested in tabloid drama, the optics are glaring. How can we speak about honouring creatives one day and sideline them the next? Are we shedding crocodile tears, or are we simply failing the very people who give life to our culture? Perhaps both.
The truth is that creative arts are not hobbies or luxuries. They are vital to our nation’s social, cultural, and economic life. They are tools that have the potential to market Namibia globally, showcasing our rich cultural diversity; create jobs and entrepreneurial opportunities; foster social cohesion and unity; and most importantly, empower young people by creating platforms to innovate, express and monetise talent.
As a society, we have to ask: how are we supporting the mental and emotional wellbeing of our creatives? How are we ensuring they can sustain careers without constantly being pushed to the margins? Beyond policy, this is about culture: how we perceive artists, how we engage with their work, and how we value their contribution to national identity.
Creative industries are also key for youth employment. A young Namibian musician, fashion designer, filmmaker, make-up artist or digital content creator can now reach global markets via social media, streaming platforms and online marketplaces. Namibia is currently working on monetising these platforms. These sectors are scalable, adaptable, and less dependent on traditional economic structures. In a country where unemployment among youth remains high, creative industries offer real alternatives to conventional employment.
It’s heartening, then, that the 8th Administration has recognised creative industries as a priority sector under NDP6. This recognition signals significant policy support and strategic platforms for artists to thrive. Nevertheless, government action alone is insufficient. We, as citizens and especially young Namibians, must step up. Attend the concerts, buy music, support local fashion and arts, and advocate for mental health and support systems within the sector. Recognise that every purchase, attendance, and mention matters in elevating the sector. In supporting our creatives, we are investing in ourselves, our communities, and our nation.
Ras Sheehama’s death should not be a footnote in Namibia’s cultural history. It should be a wake-up call. Behind the music, the fame, and the lyrics are human beings who need recognition, opportunity, and care. Creative industries cannot remain peripheral, as they are integral to our identity, economy, and social fabric.
We must also challenge ourselves to change the narrative around creatives. They are not luxuries for leisure, nor are they merely entertainers. They are storytellers, innovators, and economic actors. Young Namibians, in particular, need to see careers in the creative sector as viable and valuable. Music festivals, art exhibitions, film screenings, fashion shows, and digital platforms are more than events; they are opportunities for learning, collaboration, and economic participation.
Ras Sheehama’s legacy is not just in his music; it is in the lessons he leaves us. Creatives are essential, and their wellbeing and recognition should be a collective responsibility. Creativity is power, culture, and opportunity rolled into one, and it is time for Namibia to treat it as such.
The stage is ours to protect and elevate.
