I am a marginal Namibian. Not marginal in the sense of opportunity. As a sporadic visitor to these shores, I am marginal in the sense that I have not been living in Namibia for the past 13 years. This sense of marginality informs the many observations that I make of our diverse conditions in relation to other nations.
Even if I understand and see the suffering of many, I cannot claim to know the full plight of those who are marginal in the socio-economic sense of the term. The point of emphasis here is modesty in the manner in which we observe and pretend to speak for others. Or those we claim to be voiceless when they in fact have spoken as citizens through democratic processes, of the sort that overwhelmingly elected President Hage Geingob in November 2014.
But I also do know that as a citizen, more so as an intellectual, I have the good fortune to devote more time to the life of the mind, to calmly study, and at times to violently interrogate the direction of our country. It is a signal privilege! It is an act of citizenship in an era that is avowedly transformational.
There is no escaping the fact, however, that my claims can be tentative and imperfect. Analysts, activists, the fourth estate, and those who carry at times all these contradictory hats, ought to understand that in a republic with democratic anchors, they don’t hold the monopoly of knowledge, nor of the ‘truth’.
Consequently, they don’t hold the monopoly on pain or suffering, particularly not that of others. We as a result cannot sufficiently claim to represent the interests of these categories more than the elected women and men in our Republic.
As such, to return to my earlier strand, we cannot recklessly appropriate the vote the masses of our people expressed in elected representatives.
Let me hasten to add that President Geingob is the ultimate expression of the sovereignty of the Namibian people. It is why Namibians in their thousands stormed our independence stadium on 21 March and braced the searing sun to renew their vows.
This republican celebration, a solemn moment, provides an opportunity for the President to report on the social contract.
A few days away, on April 5, 2016 President Geingob will deliver his second State of the Nation Address (SONA), which in itself is also a solemn republican tradition of substantive democratic accountability. The President is expected to announce during the SONA his flagship programme, the Harambee Prosperity Plan, whose objective is to eradicate poverty in Namibia through strategic interventions.
Speeches and public interventions of the President, particularly their regularity in the first year of office serve as crucial landmarks in the definition of priorities and structuring of objectives, including driving behavioural change. They reinforce accountability and transparent leadership.
Speaking from the bully pulpit, President Geingob made the promise that 2016 would be dedicated to moving the mews. It suggests that the President understands fully the weight of expectations and the responsibilities that the Namibian people have bestowed upon him.
While remaining vigilant, we should at least take this aspect for granted in light of the President’s sense of mission and purpose.
In a similar vein, the regularity of consultations with fellow Namibians, and visits to all corners of the land reinforce a method/practice that is consistent with the scale of his ambitions. As we await the contours of the Harambee Prosperity Plan, whose sanity we ought to interrogate critically, there are two questions worth asking:
Do we, as citizens, understand what we ought to do in order to craft the fair society that informs the verbs of the President? Are we engaging sufficiently with this transformational moment?
I am not sure that we are. Looking at the presidential method and statements from my position of marginality, what I find deficient is the role of citizens in internalising and owning the language of the President, and acting consistently within that tone.
We are in a transformational moment that demands more from us as citizens. But as citizens we can only own that language and translate it into action when the ambitious vocabulary and grammar of the President is sufficiently owned by the entire executive, the legislative chambers, including village councilors.
They should reinforce what is qualitatively new in order to drive the agenda of socio-economic transformation. Even when the opposition, civil society and the media is assuming its democratic role, that of enlightened contradiction, it ought to be fully versed and immersed in what it is opposing!
Petty divisions and politicking would be contrary to the type of citizenship that is required in crafting what is expected – a fair society. In this endeavour of building a fair society, Namibians cannot be divided between young and old. Logic and familial ties imply that the young are our own sisters, brothers, sons and daughters. They are our grandsons and granddaughters.
The old-age pensions that were increased at the inception of this Presidency guarantee a better life for the young in conditions of neglect. What is more, we should guard against ethnic entrepreneurship. These artificial constructs of division and newly invented forms of ethnic marginality have no place among an engaged citizenship that embraces diversity and consolidates our peace in Namibia.
What is unsustainable however, we all agree, are the continued inequalities and injustices. They instigate violent political conflict. Gladly, the current administration has declared fighting poverty a singular goal that underpins its policy architecture. At the right time, we should judge it on that count!
Still, in unison, we should as citizens in this transformational hour make it our responsibility to fight inequality and injustice in order to guarantee the basic human rights of all of citizens, irrespective of age, gender or race.
Alfredo Tjiurimo Hengari holds a PhD in Political Science from the University of Paris 1 Pantheon-Sorbonne. He is a senior fellow at the South African Institute of International Affairs.