Beyond "willing-seller, willing-buyer: A path to address pre- and post-independent colonial land dispossession in Namibia

For more than three decades, land has been the loudest issue in Namibian politics and the quietest in terms of results. At every election, at every rally, and at two National Land Conferences, we have been told that government has a solution to colonial land dispossession. Yet drive through communal areas, urban peripheries, and even past vacant commercial farms, and the same question haunts us: where is the land promised to the people?

The answer we were given in 1991 was “willing seller, willing buyer.” It was repeated in 2018. But “willing seller, willing buyer” is not a restitution policy. It is a remix of the land economic market forces of supply and demand.

In 1990, Namibia chose reconciliation and the rule of law. That choice is written in Chapter 3 of our Constitution. Article 16 entrenches the fundamental property right. It says property may only be expropriated for a public purpose, by law, and with “just compensation” paid promptly.

The state cannot take it without paying market price. It cannot force a sale. “Willing seller, willing buyer” was therefore the only option the Constitution allowed. The state would buy land at market price and redistribute it.

The First Land Conference in 1991 and the Second in 2018 ended in the same place not for lack of will, but because the same legal ceiling bound both. And this is where political deception begins.

First, we are made to believe politicians have a solution to address colonial land dispossession outside Article 16. A government with a two-thirds majority, comprised largely of people who are victims of colonial land dispossession, campaigns on bold promises. Yet in Parliament, no one dares to touch Article 16. They know that doing so would weaken property rights, shake investor confidence, and undermine the Constitution itself. The promise is made for votes. The law makes delivery impossible.

Second, we hear from the politician’s mouth: “we can expropriate without compensation, like Zimbabwe.” It sounds revolutionary, but it is unconstitutional and, in my view, it is incitement to violence against a protected right. The courts would throw out any such laws within weeks. Political leaders know this very well. They say it loudly to pull a crowd and to win elections.

Third, we are told, “colonial land dispossession is over.” It is not. It has only changed its tools.

The colonial regime used guns and proclamations to push Namibians into reserves. Today, we use Town Planning proclamations to dispossess people of their customary land rights, rather than protecting those rights by issuing title deeds at the time of the proclamation.

The redline is the clearest symbol. It divides this country and blocks the free movement of livestock and meat. It limits the dignity, choice, and income of people north of the line. With a two-thirds majority, Parliament could amend the Animal Health Act and remove it, but it has failed to do so. Again, big talk, no structural change.

The Alternative: Productivity, Not Just Ownership

If we cannot amend Article 16, and we cannot afford to buy all the land, then we must change what we measure. Stop measuring justice only by title deeds and start measuring it by output.

The principle does not matter who owns the land. What matters is whether the land is feeding Namibians, employing Namibians, and building Namibia.

When land is productive, it does five things. It reduces hunger and food inflation by reducing imports. It creates jobs with proper working conditions in farming and agro-processing. It drives innovation and the development of value-added products, so we export beef cuts rather than live cattle. It attracts investment because investors go where returns are. And it gives government control over food security and the economy.

This model addresses pre-independence dispossession by breaking the link between “no title” and “no future.” If communal and resettlement land is productive, people can build wealth now.

It addresses post-independence dispossession by exposing the new elite land grab. Land allocated through political connections can no longer sit idle and pretend to be “development.” Productivity becomes the test.

The Two-Lever Solution: Carrot and Stick

To make productivity the national standard, government must do two things at the same time.

First, government must provide incentives to productive land.  

Productivity is not magic. It needs support. The state must be a partner to farmers and agro-businesses, not just a regulator.

That means affordable finance based on business plans, not only on 1000-hectare title deeds. It means water, boreholes, irrigation, roads and electricity in both commercial and communal areas. It means building abattoirs and pack houses north of the redline so farmers there can access the same markets. It means government procurement that prioritises Namibian produce for schools and hospitals.

And it means tax relief: 0% land tax and lower corporate tax for farms and businesses that meet annual production and job-creation targets.

The message must be clear: if you produce food and create jobs, this country will back you.

Second, unproductive land must pay a high land tax.  

We must end the era where land is a parking lot for wealth. Set clear productivity benchmarks.

A vacant commercial farm or an empty erf in Windhoek that sits idle for three years should face escalating taxes, for example, 5% of the market value per year.

Crucially, all that tax revenue must go back into the incentives above. This is not punishment. It is a cycle: tax idleness, fund productivity.

This approach does not violate Article 16. The state is not taking land. It is taxing it. The owner can keep it if they choose to pay and be productive. But the economic pressure forces a choice: use it, lease it to someone who will, or sell it. Land will move from speculators to producers without breaking the Constitution.

Namibia cannot keep pretending that “willing seller, willing buyer” will deliver restitution. It won’t, because it was never designed to. It was designed to keep peace in 1990. That peace is now being tested by poverty and inequality.