32 years of independence without freedom
Namibia will be commemorating 32 years of independence from colonial masters and apartheid rule; a dark and morally repugnant part of our history which witnessed and documented scores of Black and Coloured Namibians stripped off their dignity and bereft of substantive resources to establish meaningful and secure futures for themselves.
Thirty-two years later, we have been declared independent and enjoy state sovereignty en masse. Though, if three decades later over 40% of Namibians still live in shacks, at least 6o% of our economy is informal, plagued by more than 50% of unemployed youth, bedevilled by archaic apartheid laws which restrict reproductive autonomy and criminalise same-sex male partnerships et al, to what extent then, should we claim full independence when entrenched colonial ideology and attitudes continue to fester in every nook and cranny of our society?
Namibians virtually witnessed history unmistakably unfold in front of their eyes as a constitution which is the supreme law of the nation, was adopted and institutionalised, setting historical precedence on the concepts and tenets of equality, liberty and freedom. Political parties all reeling in pride from the collective and conscious efforts it took to reach absolute agreements and truths on the constitution despite ideological and political differences, and of course, the ordinary Namibian looking forward to a new normal in which a semblance of freedom may be felt and imbued post-independence.
Finally, this meant that a utopian society and government might begin to be envisioned as the building blocks have already been laid through this new-found and obtained sovereignty at a national and conscious level. Independence, on 21 March 1990, therefore served as a benchmark from which all leaders and the citizenry may plan and profess to serve, that at every strata and corner of society, their mandates are fully outlived.
Defining what freedom and independence mean for each Namibian may lead to various paths and answers, all of which may reinvigorate our appreciation for what the two terms may mean to us at micro-individual, perhaps even granular levels, and depending on who is answering, the context may be expanded and contested.
But when we transparently and critically begin to assess how far we have come in living out these truths, so much begins to surface and reality once again wags its finger in our faces to shame us for our moral failures.
When we begin to peel the wool from our eyes, the eyes which have not only witnessed Independence Day, but the eyes which continue to monitor state progress on social and economic protections, that have for years lived under corrugated iron structures, that have been rendered stateless because of who their parents choose to love, that have had to settle for meagre undignifying work because of limited employment opportunities, the eyes that lose their lives from backdoor unsafe abortions yearly because of colonial laws, then we begin to see just how much of this independence is trampled by the limited and restricted freedom we feel and enjoy.
When independence was envisioned not only by our fore parents but by current living and active politicians in and outside parliament, perhaps freedom was not so broadly and manifestly outlined.
Of course, nobody is to be blamed, as 32-years later, we are all grappling with this term which often requires retrospective selfexamination to continue to internalise and embody this principle. Even in recognising that the process to do so is arduous, demands vulnerability and an acute demonstration of self-awareness to refine our views over the years that will arrive at conclusions that are more foundational post retrospection, is the inescapable truth that the basics should still have been delivered and bridged.
The process of formalising an independent Namibia therefore should have been an act of participative civic duty to timeously reform failing systems, to remain accountable to the oaths made before occupying seats in the highest office of the land entrusted by an inspired and hopeful electorate.
Thirty-two years later, we continue to sugar-coat so many institutional failures with colourful manifestos yearly regurgitated to gaslight a population that has been under severe sociopolitical and emotional strain without so much of a national assessment on the state of mental well-being we may be dealing with in a country that purports to be independent but whose youth are consistently undermined, whose women and children are consistently oppressed and whose LGBTQIA+ identities are consistently erased.
A country still facing serious structural challenges so steeped and entrenched, it virtually and merely renders 21 March 1990 an event etched in our memories which we relive as nostalgia at every extravagant Independence Day celebration.
The difference between independence and freedom is not in the date when sovereignty was finally declared; it is in how the state has remained active every day after the fact, to safeguard those fundamental human rights enshrined in our constitution.
It is in how we rigorously assess the state of our society to finally, and reluctantly so, come to a truth that independence without freedom looks like a decorated politician in parliament who is incapable of yielding results beyond the nostalgia they cling onto at every Independence Day celebration. Sound familiar?