Andimba Herman Toivo ya Toivo’s moral authority and his warning against Tribalism 

Paul T. Shipale (with inputs by Folito Nghitongovali Diawara Gaspar)

Ya Toivo’s warning and the questions Namibia must confront

There are conversations that dominate Namibia’s public space. We hear about economic growth, foreign investment, oil discoveries, mining expansion, GDP forecasts, and development plans. Politicians speak proudly of progress. Investors speak confidently of opportunity. Government reports point to stability and economic potential.

Yet there are other conversations that rarely receive the same attention such as the growing sea of tin (kambashus) shacks surrounding our towns and cities; the rising cost of fuel; the increasing price of water and electricity; the young graduate who cannot find work; the worker who has a job but remains poor; the family that must choose between transport, food, school fees, and rent.

These realities are visible everywhere, yet somehow remain absent from the centre of our national discourse.

At the same time, another conversation has begun to occupy increasing space in our politics and society; TRIBALISM.

It is here that the voice of Andimba Toivo ya Toivo returns with remarkable force and relevance. Indeed, nine years ago on 9 June 2017 ya Toivo passed on.

We remember his words when he said “Tribalism has no place in our society. We are Namibians first and should never allow ourselves to be divided. True national unity requires not only that we reject tribalism, but also that we confront poverty and inequality, which undermine the dignity for which we fought and hinder our nation’s progress. Preserving that unity demands the commitment of all sectors of society, for no nation can remain united while inequality festers.”

Few Namibians possessed Ya Toivo’s moral authority. A freedom fighter, who cofounded the Ovamboland People’s Congress (OPC) the forerunner of OPO and later SWAPO, a political prisoner, patriot, and nation builder, he understood that defeating colonialism was only the beginning of the national project. The greater challenge would come after independence: the challenge of building a nation.

Again and again, Ya Toivo warned that tribalism represented one of the greatest threats to Namibia’s future. He urged Namibians to think of themselves first as citizens of one nation rather than members of competing ethnic communities. His warning remains relevant today.

But perhaps the most important question is not whether tribalism is dangerous. The real question is why does tribalism continue to survive?

The question we avoid

Many discussions about tribalism begin by condemning it. That is easy. But far more difficult is understanding it. If Namibia achieved political independence more than three decades ago, why do tribal loyalties continue to influence public life?

Why are government appointments often viewed through ethnic lenses? Why do political debates frequently descend into questions of identity rather than policy? Why do some citizens trust tribal networks more than national institutions?

These are uncomfortable questions yet they are precisely the questions Ya Toivo would have wanted us to ask. Because tribalism does not emerge in a vacuum. People do not retreat into smaller identities when they feel secure within the larger national community.

They retreat when they feel excluded, unseen, unheard, or when they believe that opportunities are distributed unfairly. Tribalism may therefore be more than a cause of division. It may also be a symptom of deeper national failures.

Beyond the tribal lens

It is not analytically sound to single out any Namibian “tribe” as inherently or uniquely “most tribalistic.” What can be examined, instead, are the structural and historical conditions that produce perceptions of ethnic competition in Namibia.

These include uneven distributions of political and economic power, historical regional concentrations of opportunity and marginalization, and long standing patterns of party dominance that tend to reinforce localized identities.

In addition, colonial-era spatial governance, most notably the so-called “Red Line” veterinary and administrative boundary, continues to shape access to markets, land, and state services, effectively reproducing a divided national geography.

When these material and institutional realities are viewed through an ethnic framework, they are often misread as “tribalism,” when in fact they reflect deeper questions of state formation, uneven development, and inherited colonial spatial design.

While we debate tribe, the shacks continue to grow

Across Namibia, informal settlements continue to expand. Every year, more families find themselves living in structures built from corrugated iron sheets and salvaged materials. Entire communities emerge without adequate infrastructure, sanitation, reliable electricity, or proper housing.

These settlements are not simply housing problems. They are national questions that each shack asks something of us. How can a resource rich country continue to produce such widespread insecurity?

Why does economic growth coexist with expanding informal settlements? Why do citizens contribute to the economy while remaining excluded from its rewards?

These are not questions for economists alone. They are questions about justice, about governance, about the social contract and, perhaps most importantly, about priorities. It is for this reason that we are glad when we heard Prime Minister Elijah Ngurare announcing that the government has declared housing and sanitation as national emergencies and priority areas, and that the state is accelerating a nationwide rollout by fast-tracking the formalization of informal settlements and upgrading basic services with an initial N$34 million allocated from the disaster management budget for sanitation interventions. 

We are too few to be poor

The phrase by President Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah saying “We are too few to be poor” captures the country’s paradox so clearly.

Namibia has a population of little more than three million people. The country possesses diamonds, uranium, gold, fisheries, tourism assets, and now potentially significant oil and gas reserves.

Many nations with far larger populations and fewer resources face greater structural challenges. Yet Namibia remains among the most unequal societies in the world.

How is this possible? How does abundance coexist with deprivation? How can wealth and poverty occupy the same landscape so comfortably?

The problem cannot simply be a lack of resources. The problem is how resources are distributed. Who owns productive assets? Who benefits from economic growth? Who captures the rewards of development? Who bears its costs? These are political questions before they are economic ones. Because development is not merely about creating wealth. It is about deciding who benefits from it.

We are too few to be divided

But there is another truth that deserves equal attention: we are too few to be divided.

Namibia’s population is small. Its challenges are immense. Its future opportunities are extraordinary. At such a moment, tribal division is not merely unfortunate. It is self defeating.

Every hour spent arguing over ethnic and tribal loyalties is an hour not spent discussing housing, education, healthcare, employment, industrialisation, and poverty. 

Every political battle fought through tribal lenses distracts from the fundamental question of whether the nation is serving all its citizens.

This is why Ya Toivo viewed tribalism as such a profound danger not because he opposed cultural identity. Quite the opposite, he celebrated Namibia’s diversity. What concerned him was the political weaponisation of identity. 

He feared a future in which citizens would support leaders not because they offered solutions, but because they belonged to the same ethnic group. He feared a future where loyalty replaced accountability, where patronage replaced merit, where tribe and a village replaced citizenship.

Such a future would not strengthen Namibia. It would weaken it.

Two warnings, one nation

When reflecting on Namibia’s present realities, it becomes impossible to ignore the remarkable convergence between the warnings of our iconic leaders Andimba Toivo Ya Toivo and Founding President Sam Nujoma.

Both men emerged from the liberation struggle with a profound understanding of the forces that could either strengthen or weaken the nation after independence.

Ya Toivo warned against tribalism and Nujoma warned against incomplete liberation. At first glance, these appear to be separate concerns. In reality, they are deeply connected.

Ya Toivo feared that Namibians would retreat into tribal identities if the idea of a common nation became weak. Founding Father Nujoma feared that political independence would lose meaning if it failed to deliver economic inclusion and social dignity.

Both understood that nation building required more than sovereignty. It required citizens to feel that they belonged to a common project. It required institutions that served all Namibians fairly. It required opportunities that extended beyond a privileged minority.

Perhaps the most important question is whether the challenges confronting Namibia today are symptoms of the same unfinished journey. Can a nation remain united when large segments of its population feel excluded from prosperity? Can national identity flourish when informal settlements continue to expand around resource rich cities? Can citizens be expected to think first as Namibians when many feel disconnected from the benefits of development?

Neither Ya Toivo nor Nujoma believed that tribalism alone was the problem. Nor did they believe that economic growth alone was the solution. Both understood that unity, justice, dignity, and inclusion were inseparable. A nation divided by tribe cannot effectively develop. But a nation marked by deep inequality will also struggle to remain united.

Who benefits from division?

Perhaps the most uncomfortable question of all is this who benefits from tribalism?

Certainly not the young person looking for employment. Certainly not the mother waiting in line for water. Certainly not the family struggling with rising electricity prices. Certainly not the residents of informal settlements.

Tribal division rarely benefits ordinary citizens. More often, it benefits political and economic elites who find division easier to manage than unity.

A population focused on ethnic competition is less likely to unite around demands for accountability, transparency, and equitable development. A divided society asks fewer questions about power.

And it is power, not any tribe that ultimately determines who gets what, who gets contracts, land, opportunities, representation, and a voice. The more we focus on tribe, the less we examine these questions.

The unfinished promise

Independence was a remarkable achievement. But independence was never meant to be the final destination. It was meant to be the beginning.

The liberation struggle promised more than political freedom. It promised dignity, opportunity, and inclusion. It promised that national wealth would ultimately serve national development. For many Namibians, that promise remains unfinished.

Its incompleteness can be seen in the geography of our cities, in expanding informal settlements, in youth unemployment, in persistent inequality, in the growing gap between economic statistics and lived reality.

The challenge facing Namibia today is not whether independence was achieved. The challenge is whether its economic and social meaning has been fully realised.

The Namibia Ya Toivo imagined

Ya Toivo understood that nation building required more than constitutions, elections, and a flag, it required a shared sense of destiny. A shared belief that every citizen belonged equally. A shared commitment to the common good.

His warning against tribalism was ultimately a warning against allowing narrow and parochial loyalties to undermine national purpose. Today, his message invites us to ask deeper questions.

Why are so many Namibians still excluded from prosperity? Why do informal settlements continue to grow? Why does inequality remain so persistent? Why do some citizens feel disconnected from the nation’s success? And why, in a country blessed with so much wealth, are so many still struggling to access the basics of a dignified life?

These are the questions that matter.

The measure of a nation

The true measure of Namibia will not be the number of barrels of oil discovered. It will not be the value of mineral exports. It will not be the growth rate announced in economic reports.

The true measure of Namibia will be whether ordinary citizens experience the benefits of the country’s wealth. Whether a child born in a shack has the same opportunity as a child born into privilege.

Whether citizenship carries real economic meaning. Whether development reaches the margins as well as the centres of power. And whether Namibians can resist the temptation of division in favour of a shared national future.

For we are too few to be poor. And we are too few to be divided.

Those two truths may ultimately be different expressions of the same national challenge: the challenge of building a Namibia where wealth serves the people, where citizenship matters more than tribe, ethnic or village affiliation and where the promise of independence finally becomes a reality for all.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of our employers or this newspaper. They represent our personal views as citizens and Pan-Africanists.

Related Posts