The N$1m-for-every-Namibian man, Elifas Dingara, resigns

In a rare move in Namibian politics, veteran Swapo parliamentarian Elifas Dingara is stepping down voluntarily.

Dingara delivered his exit speech in the National Assembly this week, announcing that he will leave the August House at the end of the month.

At a time when many are fighting to enter parliament, Dingara is walking away from it.

“Leadership is not about holding office indefinitely. It is about knowing when to pass the baton with dignity and confidence in the next generation,” he told fellow lawmakers.

His parliamentary career spanned multiple terms and extended into regional diplomacy through the SADC Parliamentary Forum. Yet one bold idea came to define his time in the House: the proposal known as “One Million Dollars for Each and Every Namibian".

Simple arithmetic

The concept was built on valuation arithmetic. If Namibia’s national wealth – including mineral reserves, land and fisheries – stands at roughly N$3 trillion, and the population is just over three million, then the implied per capita value is about N$1 million.

Although Dingara referenced an estimated N$3 trillion in national natural resource value – a theoretical long-term valuation of Namibia’s mineral and natural assets rather than cash reserves – the arithmetic was simple. The economics were not.

Most of that N$3 trillion sits underground or reflects long-term projected revenues. Converting it into immediate liquidity would require borrowing against future income or aggressively monetising state assets.

Injecting N$1 million per citizen into a small economy would dramatically expand the money supply relative to GDP.

Without matching production growth, inflation would follow. Asset prices would surge. The currency could weaken. Debt risks would intensify.

The patterns

Dingara's proposal was mocked, yet beneath the laughter was a serious policy question: how should a mineral-rich country convert underground wealth into lasting citizen benefit?

Globally, countries have answered that question in different ways.

Norway channels oil revenue into its Government Pension Fund Global, investing abroad and spending only a controlled portion annually.

Botswana uses its Pula Fund to smooth volatility in diamond revenue. Chile and Saudi Arabia operate stabilisation funds to protect public wages, pensions and infrastructure when commodity prices fall.

Alaska distributes annual dividends from its oil-backed permanent fund, creating a visible link between citizens and natural resources.

Others expand pensions, child grants and food subsidies, or invest heavily in education, healthcare and infrastructure.

The pattern is clear: successful mineral economies save during booms, invest for the long term and protect macroeconomic stability. Failure to do so often leads to inflation, debt dependency and inequality – the classic resource curse.

During Muammar Gaddafi's time, Libya offered a partial example. After nationalising much of its oil industry in the 1970s, the Libyan state captured the bulk of petroleum revenues and funded free healthcare, education and large infrastructure projects. But the system depended overwhelmingly on oil exports.

Saudi Arabia's oil income funds free healthcare, free education and subsidised utilities, with the surplus channelled into the Public Investment Fund (PIF), one of the world’s largest sovereign wealth funds. Citizens do not receive direct annual oil cheques, but they benefit through state-funded services and employment.

From their oil, Qatari citizens receive free healthcare, free education, housing support and utility subsidies.

Rethink participation

Namibia now stands at a similar crossroads, with uranium expansion, offshore oil prospects, critical minerals and green hydrogen ambitions.

Dingara’s proposal, stripped of its headline number, raises a deeper issue: should Namibia rethink how it participates in its resource economy? Not through wholesale nationalisation, which risks discouraging capital and efficiency, but through disciplined equity participation.

A strengthened sovereign wealth fund – using royalties, dividends and selective share acquisitions in mining and energy companies – could gradually build national ownership without destabilising investor confidence.

Mineral revenue could be ring-fenced into stabilisation buffers, infrastructure investment, pension enhancements and diversification funds for agriculture and manufacturing.

It could reduce debt during boom years, creating fiscal space for downturns. Or it could be absorbed into consumption and lost to volatility.

If Dingara’s N$1 million for every Namibian proposal were ever seriously debated in a future oil era, Namibia would not be relying on a single commodity like Saudi Arabia or Qatar. It would be layering oil on top of an already diversified mineral base – uranium, copper, gold, zinc and emerging critical minerals such as lithium, graphite and rare earths.

That multi-commodity profile changes the economics.

But with Dingara gone, his proposal lingers less as a literal payout and more as a provocation.

How long should a mineral economy remain extractive before it becomes participatory?