There is one sentence in our report on Baboon City that should haunt every elected official in Namibia:
“Politicians only come here when they need votes.”
It is a simple statement. It is not wrapped in political ideology, academic language or constitutional theory. It is the lived experience of citizens who feel abandoned by the very system they participate in. It reflects a painful reality that extends far beyond Baboon City and echoes through informal settlements, rural villages and struggling communities across Namibia.
The tragedy is not merely that these residents lack clean water, sanitation, electricity or proper roads. The greater tragedy is that many have come to believe that their value as citizens lasts only until the ballot boxes are packed away.
That should trouble every political leader, regardless of party affiliation.
Democracy is not an event that occurs every five years. It is a continuous relationship between leaders and the people who entrust them with power. Elections are not the destination of democracy; they are merely the beginning of a covenant between citizens and those who seek to govern them.
When communities begin to believe they are remembered only during campaigns, that covenant begins to fracture.
The residents of Baboon City are not demanding luxury homes, expensive infrastructure or special treatment. Their requests are remarkably modest. They want access to clean water. They want sanitation. They want electricity. They want roads. Above all, they want recognition that they exist.
These are not extravagant demands. They are basic human necessities.
The City of Windhoek is legally entitled to explain why Baboon City cannot presently be formalised. The municipality’s position is based on lease agreements, land-use planning and the temporary nature of the original occupation. Those legal realities cannot simply be ignored.
But legality should never become an excuse for moral indifference.
Whether a settlement is formally recognised or not, people are living there today. Children are growing up there today. Mothers are raising families there today. Workers leave from there every morning in search of income today.
The legal status of the land does not eliminate the humanitarian needs of those who occupy it.
No government committed to human dignity can simply point to maps, zoning regulations and lease conditions while people struggle to obtain the most basic necessity of life, water.
The Constitution speaks of dignity. National development plans speak of inclusivity. Political manifestos speak of leaving no one behind. Those principles cannot suddenly become negotiable because a settlement exists outside an approved municipal framework.
Human beings cannot be placed on hold while bureaucratic processes unfold.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of the Baboon City story is the honesty displayed by both sides.
Residents openly acknowledge that the settlement originated from temporary accommodation linked to a road construction project. They do not deny its legal complexities.
Likewise, the City has not attempted to disguise its position. It has clearly stated that it has no intention of formalising the settlement and that it is pursuing compliance with existing lease agreements.
That honesty is refreshing.
Too often, political discourse is characterised by empty promises designed to postpone difficult conversations. In this case, at least, the positions are clear.
Yet honesty alone is not enough.
Leadership requires compassion alongside candour.
It is possible to uphold planning laws while simultaneously ensuring that vulnerable people have access to emergency water supplies, sanitation facilities and humanitarian assistance. These objectives are not mutually exclusive.
Indeed, governments are judged not by how they treat those living in affluent suburbs but by how they respond to society’s most vulnerable citizens.
History repeatedly demonstrates that informal settlements do not disappear simply because governments refuse to recognise them. People move where opportunity exists, where work can be found and where survival is possible.
Ignoring this reality has never solved urbanisation anywhere in the world.
Namibia’s rapid urban growth demands new thinking, not old excuses.
The residents’ recollection of political visits before elections should also provoke serious reflection.
To be fair, political leaders regularly visit communities during campaigns because that is precisely when they engage voters and communicate their programmes. There is nothing inherently wrong with that.
The problem arises when those visits become the only meaningful engagement communities ever receive.
Campaigns should not be performances staged for cameras before disappearing for another electoral cycle.
Citizens deserve leaders who return after victory—not merely to celebrate electoral success but to account for promises made, explain constraints honestly and work together toward solutions.
Nothing destroys trust faster than hope repeatedly raised and repeatedly abandoned.
The Baboon City residents are not asking to be used as symbols in political speeches. They are asking to be seen.
This should serve as a warning to every political party preparing for future elections.
Namibians are becoming increasingly discerning. They remember promises. They compare words with outcomes. They distinguish between leaders who visit communities to listen and those who visit simply to collect votes.
Political credibility is no longer built through slogans alone. It is built through consistent presence.
If leaders genuinely cannot fulfil certain promises, they should say so openly.
Citizens are often more forgiving of difficult truths than of beautiful falsehoods.
The residents themselves appear to understand this principle. According to their representative, when then-presidential candidate Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah visited, she reportedly refrained from making promises she could not guarantee.
That restraint deserves recognition.
What now matters is ensuring that engagement does not end there. Listening must eventually translate into action, even if that action begins with temporary measures rather than permanent solutions.
Water tanks, sanitation facilities and structured dialogue cost far less than the long-term social consequences of neglect.
Ultimately, Baboon City is not merely about one settlement.
It is about the relationship between the governed and those who govern.
It is about whether citizenship means something every day or only during election season.
It is about whether democracy is measured by campaign rallies or by the daily dignity afforded to ordinary people.
The people of Baboon City should never become a convenient backdrop for campaign photographs before fading into political memory.
Their votes are not a currency to be spent and forgotten.
They are citizens.
And citizens deserve leaders who remember them long after the campaign posters have been taken down.
