Okahandja dumpsite: Where some see rubbish, others see survival

On a bitterly cold morning in Okahandja last week, while many children enjoyed the comfort of school holidays with family, soft beds and warm meals, a very different reality unfolded at the town’s dumpsite.

Barefoot boys ran across piles of waste, their feet hardened by the rough ground.

Some laughed and chased one another through the rubbish, conjuring flashes of an innocent childhood amid a wasteland no child should depend on to survive.

Others sat quietly in the smoke and heat rising from burnt waste, patiently waiting for vehicles to arrive and unload more rubbish, not out of curiosity, but in hope of finding something to eat or salvage.

At the site, small groups of families could be seen gathered beneath sparse trees, seeking shelter from the harsh morning sun that slowly replaced the cold.

Parents waited while children rummaged through piles of discarded items, searching for food, firewood, clothing and anything of value that could be reused or sold.

Namibian Sun visited the dumpsite on Friday, witnessing scenes that were both heartbreaking and deeply unsettling.

Stuck at the dumpsite

Away from the busy groups, one elderly man sat beneath a tree, preparing what appeared to be meat he had found at the dumpsite for his breakfast – food someone had tossed out without a second thought.

Beside him was a young boy, quietly licking the remains from an empty jam packet found among the rubbish.

When asked whether the child attended school, the man, who identified himself as the boy’s uncle, simply replied: “No.”

He explained that the boy had followed other children here, and the site has now become part of his daily routine. “We come here early in the morning and leave when the sun sets."

Some people, he added, "even sleep here".

Nearby, women collected firewood while babies sat in the middle of clouds of thick smoke, waiting for their mothers to finish gathering wood to take home.

The dumpsite, which is reportedly still in the process of being relocated, is quietly expanding, year by year, as the town's waste mounts.

A never-ending cycle

For many, the dumpsite has become an informal settlement of survival.

Sixteen-year-old Fillemon, who was among those searching through the waste, said the situation requires urgent intervention. “We need assistance. Children are just here at the dumpsite, as you can see. Most of them do not attend school,” he said.

“We need educated children in the future, but children are just here eating and living at the dumpsite. Government needs to look into this situation for both adults and children here.”

The teenager appealed to authorities and local leaders to visit the site themselves. “The councillors should come here and see how we are suffering. People here need to relocate somewhere else. Some are of school-going age and should be in school, not here.”

At the time of the interview, he was accompanied by his mother, who was collecting wood, and his one-year-old sister.

Another resident, Elisa Hamutopola, echoed the same concerns.

"Some parents and children are trapped in this situation and are suffering," she said.

“Children here need government assistance and mercy to leave this place,” she added. “Many are school-going children who should be in classrooms."

Hamutopola suggested that government explore targeted support measures, including housing assistance, food relief or social support grants to help vulnerable families rebuild their lives.

“Most of us come here looking for firewood or valuables, but when you look at the people here, you can clearly see they need help,” she added.

Basic needs

She further noted that community members often struggle to convince people to leave the dumpsite. She believes improving living conditions elsewhere could encourage families to leave. “If food, water and basic human needs are provided, and people are shown a better standard of living, it may motivate them to leave and live with dignity.”

The sight of children playing among waste, smoke and rotting food is a stark reminder of how far the country's most vulnerable have been left behind.

Where some see rubbish, others see survival. But for the children of the Okahandja dumpsite, childhood is being shaped not by classrooms, playgrounds or warm homes but by hunger, smoke and the daily hope that the next arriving truck may carry something worth keeping.

Their laughter still rises above the ash, innocent and painfully out of place. That is what makes the scene most haunting of all.