There are moments when a nation must pause and ask itself what, exactly, it means when it calls someone a hero.
The death of Helao Joseph Shityuwete provides Namibia with precisely such a moment.
The government has indicated that the liberation struggle veteran and former Robben Island political prisoner will be accorded a state funeral. That is appropriate and deserving. But we believe his contribution to Namibia’s freedom warrants an even greater national honour.
Helao Shityuwete should be buried at Heroes’ Acre and accorded the status and recognition of a national hero.
This is not an argument about political patronage. It should not be interpreted as an attempt to elevate one political figure above another. Nor should it become a contest over who sacrificed more during the liberation struggle.
It is, rather, an argument about recognising the historical significance of a life that was profoundly intertwined with Namibia’s journey from colonial rule to independence.
Shityuwete was not merely a member of a political organisation. He was one of those Namibians who personally paid a very high price for the struggle for freedom.
He was involved in the political mobilisation of Namibian workers during the difficult years of colonial rule. He helped establish the Walvis Bay branch of the Ovamboland People’s Organisation and later became involved in the armed liberation struggle. In 1966, he was part of the PLAN cadre G2 group that entered Namibia to help prepare the ground for the armed struggle. He was subsequently captured and imprisoned.
Then came Robben Island.
Shityuwete spent 18 years in prison after being convicted under the apartheid regime’s Terrorism Act. He was one of 37 Namibian nationalists imprisoned on Robben Island in the 1960s. His imprisonment was not an abstract contribution to the liberation struggle. It meant the loss of the most productive years of his life, separation from family and the daily indignities of political imprisonment.
He was released only in 1984.
Many people would have emerged from such an experience understandably embittered. Shityuwete instead continued to serve.
After his release, he pursued further education in Britain. He returned to Namibia during the transition to independence and subsequently served in the Ministry of Labour, contributing to the development of the country’s labour administration. He later devoted considerable attention to preserving the memory and welfare of former Robben Island political prisoners.
He was also an author.
His autobiography, Never Follow the Wolf, provided a personal account of his experiences and, importantly, left behind a historical record for generations that did not experience colonialism, apartheid or political imprisonment.
That matters enormously.
Because Heroes’ Acre should not merely be a cemetery for people who held high political or military office. It should be a place where Namibia tells its story.
And Shityuwete’s story is one of the important chapters in that story.
There is also something symbolically powerful about the fact that his death came only three days after Namibia commemorated Heroes’ Day.
The country was remembering those who sacrificed for freedom while one of those very men was nearing the end of his life.
That coincidence should not determine the decision about his final resting place. But it does invite reflection.
What better place for a man who spent 18 years imprisoned for the liberation of Namibia than a national shrine dedicated to those who made freedom possible?
Some may argue that Shityuwete should be treated in accordance with whatever existing criteria govern admission to Heroes’ Acre. That is a legitimate consideration. National honours should have rules, consistency and integrity.
But rules exist to ensure fairness, not to prevent a nation from properly recognising exceptional circumstances.
If the existing framework does not adequately accommodate someone of Shityuwete’s stature, then perhaps this is an appropriate moment to examine the framework itself.
Namibia should not create a hierarchy of suffering among its liberation veterans. Nor should it suggest that those who became prominent after independence are necessarily more deserving of national honour than those who sacrificed before independence.
The question should be much simpler:
Did this individual make an extraordinary contribution to the liberation and development of Namibia, and does that contribution warrant the highest national recognition?
In Shityuwete’s case, there is a strong argument that the answer is yes.
He was a freedom fighter, political prisoner, labour advocate, writer and custodian of liberation history. He endured imprisonment for his political convictions and then returned home to contribute to the building of the country for which he had sacrificed so much.
Perhaps most importantly, his life connects several generations of Namibia’s history.
He knew colonial Namibia.
He experienced the liberation struggle.
He endured Robben Island.
He witnessed independence.
And he lived long enough to see the country confront the challenges of its fourth decade of freedom.
That makes his life more than a personal biography. It is a bridge between the Namibia that was and the Namibia that is.
There is another reason to consider Heroes’ Acre.
The generation of liberation veterans is disappearing.
With every funeral, Namibia loses another living repository of memories that cannot be completely captured in official documents. Shityuwete’s death has already left only one surviving member of the group of 37 Namibian nationalists imprisoned on Robben Island during that period.
We cannot bring that generation back.
But we can ensure that its sacrifices remain visible.
A burial at Heroes’ Acre would therefore not simply honour Helao Shityuwete. It would provide future generations with a physical reminder of what freedom cost.
Young Namibians should be able to stand at his grave and ask: Who was this man?
And the answer should be readily available.
He was one of those who helped make their freedom possible.
This is why the discussion should not be framed as whether Shityuwete deserves more honour than another Namibian. It should be framed as whether Namibia is prepared to recognise the full weight of his contribution.
The state funeral already announced by government is a fitting beginning.
But we respectfully believe that the final decision should go further.
Let Helao Shityuwete take his place among the men and women whose sacrifices helped create this Republic.
Let him rest at Heroes’ Acre.
Not because he was perfect.
Not because he belonged to a particular political generation.
But because, at a defining moment in Namibia’s history, he was prepared to sacrifice his freedom so that a future generation could have theirs.
That is surely what a hero means.
And that is surely what Heroes’ Acre was built to remember.
