RANKS OF ELDERS WHO GOT OVERFED BY GREED AND LOST THEIR SENSE OF JUDGMENT

Somewhere in Namibia, an elder is adjusting his tie for a TV interview about “serving the people” right before signing off on a deal that serves only his bank account. Another is lecturing the youth about hard work while his own wealth came from cutting ribbons, not breaking sweat. They call themselves leaders, custodians of wisdom, and defenders of the nation’s values. But strip away the titles and respect, and you’ll find a club of men and women who have been so overfed by greed that their moral compasses no longer point anywhere.

Once upon a time, an “elder” meant a wise, respected figure whose words carried the weight of lived experience. In Namibia’s new political dictionary, however, “elder” often means someone who has mastered the art of eating not food, but tenders, allowances, and public resources. These are elders marinated in greed, grilled in privilege, and served with a side of selective amnesia.

Our housing shortage is the perfect example. The elders have perfected the national housing strategy: “Build yourself a mansion, and let the poor build character in a shack.” Housing conferences are attended, speeches are given, ribbon-cuttings are photographed, yet the people are still sleeping on floors while their leaders are sleeping on imported mattresses from Dubai. Affordable housing? Yes, for their dogs.

Land redistribution was once a noble mission to heal historical wounds, but it has turned into a game of musical chairs where the music stops and, surprise, all the chairs are occupied by cousins, comrades, and golf buddies. The landless still dream of just one small plot, while some elders have so much land they could get lost driving from one fence to the next.

The infamous Redline stands as an invisible wall of shame. Farmers north of it can’t sell their beef freely, but elders south of it are too busy tendering for veterinary supplies to care. Why fix a barrier that conveniently separates the poor from the lucrative markets?

Youth unemployment is a national emergency, but for these elders, it’s just background noise. For years, they’ve promised “job creation” for the youth. What they meant was jobs for their own children. The rest of the young people get motivational speeches about entrepreneurship from people who have never started a business without government funds. Some graduates are now skilled in only one thing: attending job interviews that never lead to anything.

The nation’s resources suffer the same neglect. Namibia’s beef, fish, diamonds, and uranium are shipped raw, feeding foreign industries while our factories close. The term “value addition” rolls off elders’ tongues like a campaign slogan, but nothing changes. Finished goods return with price tags that could buy a decent car, yet the middlemen are happy and many of these elders just happen to sit on their boards.

The Anticorruption Commission barks loudly when a scandal breaks, but its teeth rarely sink into the meat. There’s the occasional dramatic arrest for the cameras, but cases drag on for years while accused public servants attend high-profile events as “distinguished guests.” In the meantime, the public is expected to be patient while justice takes a tea break.

The much-celebrated Green Schemes were supposed to make Namibia food secure. Instead, they’ve become memorials to what happens when greed is the fertilizer. Rusting tractors and overgrown canals now stand where once there was promise. The elders who cut ribbons at their launch have long moved on to the next project or the next paycheck.

Meanwhile, in the mining and construction sectors, foreign companies continue to exploit Namibian workers with low pay and poor working conditions. The elders could push for stronger labor laws and better enforcement, but that might upset “business friends” who fund their overseas trips. And so, the exploitation continues while the speeches on “economic empowerment” keep flowing.

These ranks of overfed elders are not shepherds of the nation; they are shepherds of their own wallets. They don’t lose sleep over national crises unless the crisis is about their benefits being cut. And when they do speak on national issues, it’s usually to lecture the youth about patience, as if patience can pay rent or buy bread.

The tragedy is not just that these elders have lost their sense of judgment, it’s that they’ve sold it, often at a discount, to the highest bidder. Namibia deserves elders who lead with vision, not greed; who feed the people, not on the people. Until then, the ranks of elders will keep growing not in wisdom, but in waistline.

History will not remember them as elders, only as well-fed spectators who watched the nation starve.