The faces of Namibia's post-independence activism
A decade ago, Dr Job Amupanda stood before a rented plot in Kleine Kuppe and declared a rebellion against land inequality.
That single act of defiance in 2014 – the “Erf 2014” symbolic occupation – gave birth to the Affirmative Repositioning (AR) movement and reignited hope among landless Namibians who believed that change could come from youthful courage.
Amupanda’s firebrand rhetoric shook the establishment, inspired thousands of young people, and embarrassed policymakers into promising land reforms.
Yet, 10 years later, the slogans have faded into parliamentary speeches and the dream remains deferred.
The activist became the mayor, then a councillor, and now a parliamentarian – but the landless still wait.
Back then, Amupanda thundered against high housing costs and exploitation by landlords as he justified the 2014 symbolic land grab, declaring that “the rent industry in this country is an immoral industry.”
At one time Amupanda questioned: “Who will remember 100 of you (MPs) who have done something significant in dealing with this problem of foreigners owning our land?”
Street Justice
In the vacuum left by Amupanda’s quieter stance, a new name burst onto the scene – Michael Amushelelo.
He brought with him anger, spectacle and a sense of street justice.
Where Amupanda wrote letters to ministries, Amushelelo stormed the gates. When workers complained of mistreatment, he marched into company premises, often with cheering crowds and cameras in tow.
Amushelelo’s defining moment came when he threatened to shut down Chinatown in Windhoek, accusing Chinese traders of exploiting workers and evading tax.
He later mobilised thousands for a national protest against youth unemployment alongside fellow activist Dimbulukeni Nauyoma.
The two were arrested and detained for months – their fight momentarily celebrated, then forgotten as the system they challenged closed ranks.
But the heroism came with scars. Many of the workers they defended lost their jobs, and Amushelelo’s own influence began to wane.
In one of his most reflective statements, he confessed: “As a normal thinking human being, I have come to the realisation that it is pointless and hopeless fighting for people who are not willing to fight for themselves.”
Later, when he joined a new political formation, Amushelelo’s frustration with established parties was still evident: “Old political parties are just there to serve their stomachs. We cannot continue to do things the same way because it is about what we should do for our people.”
Today, he speaks less of revolutions and more of rest, tending to a farm outside Windhoek – a symbolic retreat from the battlefield that once made him a household name.
Street Grit
A new voice is emerging from Windhoek’s restless streets. Shaun Gariseb, known for his relentless fight against RedForce debt collectors and his advocacy for pensioners and marginalised communities, has become a fresh face of civic resistance.
Gariseb speaks with the grit of the street rather than the polish of the podium.
“Yes, ratepayers may owe bills, we are not denying that,” he said during one of his protests against unfair billing. “But how do they determine what we owe? How do bills escalate when services are suspended? We want to honour our municipal obligations, but not when the city is run as a profit-making scheme as opposed to a social service. The city is playing tricks.”
On another occasion, Gariseb declared: “Electricity is not a luxury and should be considered a basic need,” arguing that Windhoek’s tariff increases punish people with low incomes.
Gariseb, who has indicated plans to contest as an independent candidate in Katutura Central in the upcoming local elections, says his activism is about giving ordinary people a stronger voice in decisions that affect their lives.
Changing Voices
Namibia’s activism, once defined by radical land occupations and fiery anti-capitalist marches, is evolving.
It mirrors the fatigue of a nation where revolutionaries turn into administrators and protesters into councillors.
The causes remain – landlessness, joblessness and inequality – but the voices keep changing.
Whether Gariseb’s rise signals a revival or just another cycle in Namibia’s long struggle for social justice remains to be seen.
But the pattern is familiar: the young rise in anger, make headlines, get arrested, get tired – and eventually, they too go quiet.
Perhaps the real revolution, still waiting to be won, is endurance.
That single act of defiance in 2014 – the “Erf 2014” symbolic occupation – gave birth to the Affirmative Repositioning (AR) movement and reignited hope among landless Namibians who believed that change could come from youthful courage.
Amupanda’s firebrand rhetoric shook the establishment, inspired thousands of young people, and embarrassed policymakers into promising land reforms.
Yet, 10 years later, the slogans have faded into parliamentary speeches and the dream remains deferred.
The activist became the mayor, then a councillor, and now a parliamentarian – but the landless still wait.
Back then, Amupanda thundered against high housing costs and exploitation by landlords as he justified the 2014 symbolic land grab, declaring that “the rent industry in this country is an immoral industry.”
At one time Amupanda questioned: “Who will remember 100 of you (MPs) who have done something significant in dealing with this problem of foreigners owning our land?”
Street Justice
In the vacuum left by Amupanda’s quieter stance, a new name burst onto the scene – Michael Amushelelo.
He brought with him anger, spectacle and a sense of street justice.
Where Amupanda wrote letters to ministries, Amushelelo stormed the gates. When workers complained of mistreatment, he marched into company premises, often with cheering crowds and cameras in tow.
Amushelelo’s defining moment came when he threatened to shut down Chinatown in Windhoek, accusing Chinese traders of exploiting workers and evading tax.
He later mobilised thousands for a national protest against youth unemployment alongside fellow activist Dimbulukeni Nauyoma.
The two were arrested and detained for months – their fight momentarily celebrated, then forgotten as the system they challenged closed ranks.
But the heroism came with scars. Many of the workers they defended lost their jobs, and Amushelelo’s own influence began to wane.
In one of his most reflective statements, he confessed: “As a normal thinking human being, I have come to the realisation that it is pointless and hopeless fighting for people who are not willing to fight for themselves.”
Later, when he joined a new political formation, Amushelelo’s frustration with established parties was still evident: “Old political parties are just there to serve their stomachs. We cannot continue to do things the same way because it is about what we should do for our people.”
Today, he speaks less of revolutions and more of rest, tending to a farm outside Windhoek – a symbolic retreat from the battlefield that once made him a household name.
Street Grit
A new voice is emerging from Windhoek’s restless streets. Shaun Gariseb, known for his relentless fight against RedForce debt collectors and his advocacy for pensioners and marginalised communities, has become a fresh face of civic resistance.
Gariseb speaks with the grit of the street rather than the polish of the podium.
“Yes, ratepayers may owe bills, we are not denying that,” he said during one of his protests against unfair billing. “But how do they determine what we owe? How do bills escalate when services are suspended? We want to honour our municipal obligations, but not when the city is run as a profit-making scheme as opposed to a social service. The city is playing tricks.”
On another occasion, Gariseb declared: “Electricity is not a luxury and should be considered a basic need,” arguing that Windhoek’s tariff increases punish people with low incomes.
Gariseb, who has indicated plans to contest as an independent candidate in Katutura Central in the upcoming local elections, says his activism is about giving ordinary people a stronger voice in decisions that affect their lives.
Changing Voices
Namibia’s activism, once defined by radical land occupations and fiery anti-capitalist marches, is evolving.
It mirrors the fatigue of a nation where revolutionaries turn into administrators and protesters into councillors.
The causes remain – landlessness, joblessness and inequality – but the voices keep changing.
Whether Gariseb’s rise signals a revival or just another cycle in Namibia’s long struggle for social justice remains to be seen.
But the pattern is familiar: the young rise in anger, make headlines, get arrested, get tired – and eventually, they too go quiet.
Perhaps the real revolution, still waiting to be won, is endurance.
Comments
Namibian Sun
No comments have been left on this article