“HAVE nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness but rather expose them.” – Ephesians 5:11

Namibia is a constitutional democracy built on the foundations of transparency, accountability and justice. 

But in recent years, a quiet and deeply concerning erosion of these values has been taking place. 

It is most visible in the shadow cast by August 26 Holdings, a company wholly owned by the Ministry of Defence and Veterans Affairs. 

Established in 1998, August 26 Holdings was supposedly created to support military self-sufficiency. 

Over time, however, it has become an opaque and unaccountable web of business interests spanning construction, logistics, energy, textiles, telecommunications, insurance and even hospitality. 

Despite being a State-owned enterprise and being funded by public money, August 26 does not publish financial statements. 

This is not just an administrative anomaly but a direct challenge to the spirit and letter of our Constitution. 

Article 1(2) of the Namibian Constitution clearly states that all power vests in the people. That includes the power to scrutinise how public money is spent. 

But how can citizens exercise that power when presidential reports on August 26 remain hidden, financial activities are a secret and key questions from Parliament go unanswered? 

I find it profoundly disturbing that the eighth administration continues to sit on several presidential reports believed to contain findings about August 26 Holdings. 

These reports are not military secrets from an enemy battlefield but public interest documents, dealing with possible misuse of public resources, procurement violations and financial irregularities. 

To continue withholding them is nothing short of a betrayal of public trust. 

I stand in principled agreement with the former leader of the official opposition, who has tirelessly asked for transparency regarding August 26. 

His persistence, despite lacking resources to mount legal battles, reflects a commitment to justice and accountability. 

Recent revelations have escalated public concern. 

August 26 and its subsidiary, Enercon, were paid N$60 million for fuel that was never delivered and reportedly owe Namcor more than N$100 million. 

Enercon is also said to have borrowed fuel stock from Namcor and never repaid it. 

This crisis is not unique to Namibia. 

Across Africa, countries are grappling with how to manage defence-linked enterprises. 

In Uganda, for example, the National Enterprise Corporation (NEC), which is also owned by the defence ministry, is involved in agr i culture, const ruction and manufacturing. However, NEC is subject to parliamentary oversight and publicly publishes some financial data. 

In Nigeria, the Defence Industries Corporation of Nigeria (DICON) is a State-owned military manufacturing firm. 

It is known for producing arms and even ventilators during the Covid-19 pandemic. 

Unlike August 26, DICON operates within an audit and reporting framework set by government watchdogs. 

In Ethiopia, the Metals and Engineering Corporation (METEC), a massive military-run industrial entity, faced a scandal, leading to the arrest of its senior leaders in 2018. 

The Ethiopian government responded by launching a criminal investigation, making public findings and implementing reforms to rein in military overreach. 

These examples show that military ownership does not mean exemption from the Constitution. The opposite is true – the greater the strategic sensitivity of an institution, the higher the obligation for public accountability. 

Economically, when defence-linked companies operate with secrecy and zero accountability, they undermine private sector competition, distort state procurement and crowd out local entrepreneurs. 

They create a two-tier economy, one subject to rules and one above them. 

Politically, they weaken civilian oversight and erode democratic governance. 

The risk becomes even higher when these companies are used as safe havens for corruption, political patronage, or to fund ruling party interests, thereby weaponising the State for political survival rather than public service. 

Let it be ma d e unambiguously clear: August 26 is not above the law. 

No entity in a democratic society should be. 

The defence ministry must break its silence, the Presidency must release the reports, and the eighth administration must stop treating silence as a strategy. 

“Woe to those who make unjust laws – to those who issue oppressive decrees.” – Isaiah 10:1 

This matter is not just about August 26. 

It is about whether our constitutional promises mean anything. 

It is about whether State power belongs to the people or a hidden few. 

It is about whether the war against corruption is real or just rhetoric. 

If we cannot account for our defence-linked enterprises, we cannot claim to be a modern State. 

If we continue to protect those in uniform while they plunder public resources, then we are no better than those we once criticised in post-colonial history. 

*This article was shortened. Hidipo Hamata writes from Omafo,