On this year’s Human Rights Day, Namibians were reminded once again that the struggle for dignity, justice and equality remains unfinished. President Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah used her national address to place an uncompromising spotlight on one of the gravest human rights violations facing our society today: gender-based violence, especially violence against women. Her message was clear, emphatic and long overdue; Namibia cannot claim to uphold human rights while half its population lives under the daily shadow of fear.
We applaud the President for her moral clarity. In choosing to frame Human Rights Day around the safety, dignity and liberation of women, she reaffirmed that women’s rights are human rights. This is not a rhetorical flourish; it is a demand for action.
Human Rights Day is not merely a ceremonial date on the national calendar. It carries a deep, painful history. On 10 December 1959, Black residents of Windhoek’s Old Location were forcibly removed by the apartheid regime. That day turned violent as residents resisted the brutal eviction. It is a day etched in our collective memory, and significantly, it is a day marked not only by resistance but by the heroic sacrifice of a woman: Kakurukaze Mungunda. She became a symbol of defiance when she set fire to a police officer’s vehicle in protest, paying for her courage with her life.
Her legacy is a powerful reminder that women have always stood at the forefront of the fight for justice and dignity in Namibia. So when the President tells us that women today remain unsafe in their homes and communities, she is asking us to confront the painful contradiction between the values we claim to honour and the realities we tolerate.
Human Rights Day asks us to reflect on freedom from oppression, but what does that freedom mean for the countless women who face abuse from intimate partners? What does dignity mean to a survivor who is blamed, silenced or denied justice? What does equality mean in a society where femicide has become a regular headline? Namibia cannot meaningfully celebrate human rights while failing to eradicate one of the most pervasive forms of violence within its borders.
To her credit, President Nandi-Ndaitwah did more than acknowledge the problem; she called for radical steps. And radical steps are precisely what are needed. Incremental progress has proven too slow. Public condemnation has proven insufficient. Policy frameworks, while necessary, have not yet translated into safety on the ground. The violence continues, in numbers too staggering to ignore and in stories too heartbreaking to forget.
The fight against gender-based violence is not a niche issue. It is not a matter reserved for activists, women’s groups or social workers. It is a national emergency with far-reaching consequences. When women live in fear, entire communities suffer. Families are fractured. Children grow up traumatised. Healthcare and justice systems are strained. Development is undermined. And the very fabric of society weakens.
Radical transformation requires more than awareness; it requires accountability. It requires that perpetrators face swift and certain justice. It demands that survivors receive support without judgement or bureaucracy. It calls for investment in shelters, crisis centres, counselling services and safe houses. It obliges our police, courts and social institutions to respond not with indifference but with urgency and compassion.
It also requires introspection. Gender-based violence is not only a criminal justice issue; it is a cultural one. The beliefs and attitudes that normalise control, silence, entitlement and violence against women do not arise overnight. They are taught, tolerated and reproduced across generations. A truly radical approach means challenging these norms wherever they appear: in homes, in churches, in schools, in workplaces, in relationships and, increasingly, in digital spaces.
Human Rights Day is therefore an opportunity not just to remember the brutality of the Old Location removals, but to recognise the ongoing injustices that still plague our nation. Just as the residents of 1959 resisted the violation of their dignity, we must resist the violation of women’s bodies and lives with equal conviction.
And as we remember Kakurukaze Mungunda, the only woman killed during the 1959 uprising, we must draw inspiration from her bravery. She stood, alone and fearless, against a system that sought to break her. Her sacrifice compels us to ask: What does our generation stand for? Do we have the courage to confront the injustices of our time with the same determination?
President Nandi-Ndaitwah’s call to action is a timely reminder that leadership is not only about policy but also about moral direction. By choosing to elevate the voices and experiences of women on a day so deeply tied to Namibia’s struggle for human dignity, she has reminded the nation of its unfinished business.
Now the responsibility shifts to all of us. To the government, to implement without delay. To law enforcement, to protect without prejudice. To communities, to speak out without hesitation. And to men, especially men, to listen, to unlearn and to become active participants in dismantling the culture of violence.
Human Rights Day should never be a passive commemoration. It must be a call to action. The best way to honour those who fought for our freedoms, including the fearless Kakurukaze Mungunda, is to ensure that every woman and girl in Namibia can live without fear.
Anything less would be a betrayal of our past and a failure to secure our future.
