Namibia has reached a critical juncture in its development.
More than three decades after independence, the country has achieved considerable progress in some areas, but the uncomfortable reality is that we are not meeting all the human-development goals that should define a modern middle-income democracy.
Unemployment remains stubbornly high. Inequality remains among the highest in the world. Economic growth is not creating enough quality jobs. Skills mismatches persist.
Public institutions face capacity constraints. And despite significant public expenditure on education and human development, the transition from education to productive employment remains difficult.
The International Monetary Fund’s 2026 assessment of Namibia makes precisely this point, identifying skills mismatches, regulatory bottlenecks and structural weaknesses as constraints on diversification and private-sector development.
The IMF also warns that across-the-board restraint in public-sector recruitment and remuneration could undermine the ability to recruit and retain skilled professionals in critical areas.
Against this background, Namibia needs to have a much more serious conversation about one of its most valuable but least systematically managed resources: its people.
More specifically, what are we doing to attract highly skilled Namibians living abroad back home?
And perhaps even more importantly, what are we doing to make sure the highly skilled people who are already here do not leave?
The example of Ndjodi Ndeunyema provides an appropriate starting point.
Ndeunyema is a Namibian who studied at the University of Namibia before becoming a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford University, where he completed a DPhil in Law, alongside other postgraduate qualifications.
His doctoral thesis on the human right to water under the Namibian Constitution received Oxford’s Dr Surya Subedi Prize for the best law doctoral thesis submitted in 2019–20.
His story should make Namibia proud.
But it should also make us ask a difficult question.
What happens when people like Ndeunyema come home?
Do we have institutions capable of using their expertise?
Do we create opportunities where exceptional people can exercise their abilities?
Do we reward competence sufficiently?
Do we give them enough intellectual and professional space to contribute?
And do we make it attractive for a Namibian who has spent years competing at some of the world’s most demanding academic and professional institutions to return to a country where the opportunities, remuneration, institutional culture and professional standards may be very different?
These are not questions about one individual.
They are questions about the country’s development model.
The paradox of the Namibian professional
There is a peculiar paradox confronting Namibia.
We spend enormous amounts of money educating our young people.
We celebrate when they win scholarships to Oxford, Cambridge, Harvard, the London School of Economics or other leading universities.
We celebrate when they become doctors, engineers, lawyers, scientists, academics, economists, architects and technology specialists.
We proudly call them Namibia’s future.
Then many of them leave.
Some leave because the opportunities simply do not exist here.
Others leave because international institutions offer better research facilities, salaries, professional networks and career progression.
Others leave because they believe advancement at home is influenced by factors other than competence.
And some leave because they simply want to experience the world.
There is nothing inherently wrong with Namibians working abroad.
In fact, migration can be immensely beneficial.
The problem arises when migration becomes a permanent one-way transfer of human capital.
The African Development Bank and International Organization for Migration have recognised precisely this challenge, arguing that diaspora engagement can help mitigate brain drain by facilitating the flow of skills, knowledge, investment and professional expertise back to African countries.
The question, therefore, should not be how to prevent Namibians from leaving.
It should be:
How do we ensure that leaving Namibia does not mean leaving Namibia behind?
We need a “brain gain” strategy
Namibia has a National Diaspora Policy, but evidence suggests that implementation remains a challenge.
A 2025 study examining Namibia’s diaspora policy identified inadequate data collection, limited resources and insufficient incentives to attract skilled members of the diaspora as some of the obstacles affecting implementation.
That should concern us.
We cannot manage what we do not know.
Does Namibia have a comprehensive database of its doctors, engineers, scientists, lawyers, academics, technology specialists, economists, entrepreneurs and other highly skilled citizens living abroad?
Do we know where they are?
Do we know what they specialise in?
Do we know which ones would consider returning?
Do we know which ones would be willing to teach, invest, mentor, consult or serve on Namibian boards even if they do not permanently relocate?
If we do not have this information, we are effectively flying blind.
Other countries have understood this.
Ghana, for example, has institutionalised diaspora engagement through its Diaspora Affairs Office at the Presidency.
Its current programme explicitly identifies knowledge and skills transfer as a pillar of diaspora engagement and is developing a Ghana Diaspora Knowledge Network to connect institutions with professionals abroad for consultations, sabbaticals, guest lectures and specialised training.
It is also developing a Diaspora Corps for defined assignments in areas such as engineering, healthcare and finance.
That is a significant conceptual shift.
The diaspora is not viewed simply as people who left.
They are treated as an extension of the country’s human-capital base.
Namibia could learn from this.
Rwanda offers another lesson
Rwanda has also recognised that migration does not necessarily have to result in permanent loss.
Its labour mobility policy identifies the diaspora as a development resource and calls for measures to attract Rwandan expertise working abroad, facilitate skills and technology transfer, provide information on investment opportunities and create an enabling environment for returning professionals and entrepreneurs.
There is a lesson here for Namibia.
We should stop thinking of the Namibian diaspora primarily in terms of remittances.
A Namibian engineer working in London may be worth more to Namibia through knowledge transfer than through sending money home.
A Namibian lawyer working in Johannesburg may have international expertise that could strengthen a Namibian institution.
A Namibian scientist working in Germany may be able to establish research partnerships with Namibian universities.
A Namibian technology entrepreneur in Silicon Valley may be able to connect Namibian businesses to international capital and markets.
The objective should therefore be brain circulation, not simply brain return.
Ireland understood the value of its diaspora
Ireland provides perhaps one of the clearest international examples of a country treating its diaspora as a strategic national asset.
Ireland’s 2026–2030 Diaspora Strategy contains 23 commitments organised around themes including connection and contribution, departure and return, and sharing experience. It was developed following extensive consultation with the Irish diaspora.
Ireland also explicitly recognises that returning citizens bring skills and knowledge acquired overseas.
Its government has worked on reducing barriers to return, improving information for citizens abroad, providing information on skills needs and facilitating recognition and portability of professional and academic qualifications.
This is the kind of thinking Namibia needs.
Returning home should not be an act of patriotic sacrifice.
It should be a viable professional proposition.
But bringing people home is only half the equation
Perhaps the more uncomfortable question is whether Namibia sufficiently values the people who are already here.
This is where meritocracy becomes crucial.
A country cannot repeatedly complain about brain drain while creating an environment in which highly competent professionals believe that their skills will not necessarily determine their career progression.
Meritocracy does not mean ignoring transformation, equity or Namibia’s historical inequalities.
It means that within whatever transformation framework the country adopts, competence, integrity, performance and qualifications must matter.
If Namibia wants to become a knowledge economy, it needs institutions where the best person for a particular job has a realistic opportunity to get it.
The question should not be where somebody comes from.
It should not be who they know.
It should not be which faction or network they belong to.
It should be: Can they do the job?
This becomes especially important when we look at state-owned enterprises and public institutions.
Vacant senior positions are not merely administrative gaps.
A prolonged vacancy at the top of a parastatal can mean strategic uncertainty, delayed decisions, weakened accountability and loss of institutional momentum.
At the same time, Namibia cannot simply fill every vacancy with another highly paid executive.
The IMF has correctly highlighted that Namibia’s public wage bill is already substantial and that reform needs to align staff numbers, skills and deployment rather than simply expanding government employment.
The answer is therefore not more jobs for the sake of jobs.
It is, better people in the right jobs.
We need a national talent strategy
Namibia should consider establishing a dedicated National Talent and Diaspora Programme.
It could be relatively inexpensive compared with the cost of losing skilled professionals.
First, create a secure national database of skilled Namibians abroad.
Second, identify critical national skills shortages.
Third, actively approach Namibians abroad whose expertise corresponds with those shortages.
Fourth, establish visiting-professor, visiting-expert and technical-assignment programmes.
Fifth, make it easier for professionals returning from abroad to have foreign qualifications recognised.
Sixth, create incentives for returnees willing to establish businesses, research institutions or professional practices.
Seventh, establish structured mentorship programmes connecting diaspora professionals with young Namibians.
And finally, create a mechanism through which the diaspora can participate in national development without necessarily having to relocate permanently.
The government should also consider tax and investment incentives for returning professionals and entrepreneurs, where fiscally responsible.
But money alone will not solve the problem.
The greatest incentive may be something more fundamental: the opportunity to make a difference.
The culture of excellence
There is another dimension to this conversation.
Namibia needs to celebrate excellence without making excellence politically uncomfortable.
A country that wants to develop must create an environment where an ambitious young Namibian can say:
“I want to become the best engineer in Africa.”
“I want to build a world-class law firm in Windhoek.”
“I want to establish a technology company here.”
“I want to conduct research here.”
“I want to run a world-class public institution.”
And importantly:
“I can become that person without leaving Namibia.”
This does not mean Namibia should become protectionist.
Quite the opposite.
The country should become more globally connected.
We should want our people to study abroad.
We should want them to work abroad.
We should want them to gain experience in London, Johannesburg, Dubai, New York, Nairobi, Kigali, Singapore and elsewhere.
But we should also want them to remain connected to Namibia.
The ultimate measure of a successful education system is not simply how many people it sends into the world.
It is how effectively it converts that global exposure into national development.
Namibia cannot afford to lose its human capital
The urgency is heightened by Namibia’s current economic circumstances.
The IMF estimates that economic growth slowed to 1.7% in 2025 and projects 2.1% growth for 2026, while warning that structural constraints such as skills mismatches and limited diversification continue to weigh on productivity and employment.
At the same time, the government has maintained a freeze on recruitment for non-critical public-service positions because of budget constraints, while critical health and education posts remain eligible for recruitment.
This makes the question of talent even more important.
Namibia cannot afford an ever-expanding state.
But neither can it afford a state in which critical institutions lack the specialised people required to function effectively.
The solution is not necessarily to spend more.
It is to spend smarter.
It is to identify the skills that matter most for the next phase of Namibia’s development and make sure those skills are available where they are needed.
That includes the government.
It includes parastatals.
It includes universities.
It includes hospitals.
It includes the private sector.
And it includes the diaspora.
The real resource is human capital
Namibia has spent decades talking about its natural resources.
Uranium. Diamonds. Fisheries. Oil. Gas. Green hydrogen. Critical minerals.
But none of these resources will transform Namibia automatically.
They require engineers, geologists, lawyers, financiers, economists, scientists, entrepreneurs, project managers, regulators, technicians and competent public administrators.
In other words, they require people.
And this is why the question of brain drain is ultimately much bigger than whether individual Namibians leave the country.
It is about whether Namibia can create a national system that attracts, develops, rewards and retains talent.
The country needs to ask itself a brutally honest question:
If a highly qualified Namibian has a choice between building a career here and building one elsewhere, what exactly are we offering them?
If the answer is only patriotism, we are unlikely to win.
Patriotism matters. Belonging matters. Home matters. But professionals also need meaningful work, institutional integrity, competitive opportunities, professional respect, intellectual freedom, career progression and confidence that competence will be recognised.
Namibia should therefore not beg its best people to come home.
It should build a country to which they want to come home.
And for those who never left, it should build institutions that make them want to stay.
The challenge before Namibia is not simply to produce educated citizens.
We have done that.
The challenge is to build a country capable of using them.
That is where meritocracy becomes more than a political slogan.
It becomes an economic necessity.
Because if Namibia is serious about moving from a resource-dependent economy towards a knowledge-driven, diversified and competitive one, there can be no greater national asset than a competent citizen who is given the opportunity to contribute at the highest level.
Our international citizens should not have to choose between global excellence and Namibia.
And those already here should not have to choose between their professional ambitions and their country.
The ultimate measure of Namibia’s development may therefore not be how many people we educate.
It may be whether, after educating them, we give them a reason to come home, and a reason to stay.
