My name is Anton Geinub, and I am 33 years old. I was born and raised in Leonardville, a small village in the Omaheke region of Namibia that is more dust and dreams than anything else. Growing up here, I have seen the sun rise over endless farmlands, watched my parents and grandparents bend their backs in the fields, and wondered if this is all there is for us. Leonardville is not just a dot on the map; it is home to about 1 500 people who scrape by on whatever the land gives, which is not much these days.

Climate change has made rains unreliable, and the jobs? Mostly low-paying farm work that is being passed down like an unwanted inheritance. My parents and many of my friends are farmworkers, earning just enough to keep the lights on but not enough to send my little sister to university. It is generational, this cycle, and it is breaking us.

However, do not get me wrong, farming is honourable work. It has fed families here for decades. But it is not sustainable anymore. The just-ended drought wiped out crops, livestock prices fluctuate, and young people like me are leaving in droves for Windhoek or Gobabis, chasing something better. The community does not want to be trapped as generational farmworkers forever. We want options: education and skills which lead to jobs that pay well and build futures. 

That is why, when Headspring Investments announced plans to open a uranium mine nearby, it felt like a spark of hope in a dry veld.

Headspring wants to extract uranium using in-situ leaching, a method that puts solutions underground to dissolve the ore without traditional digging. It is not without controversy, in fact, far from it. 

The lobby group Stampriet Aquifer Uranium Mining Association (SAUMA) has been vocal, pressuring the government and raising alarms about potential water contamination in the Stampriet Transboundary Aquifer, which supplies water to thousands across Namibia, Botswana and South Africa. They have organised legal protests, written open letters, and highlighted risks from similar operations elsewhere that have led to polluted groundwater. SAUMA’s concerns are valid.

But here is the thing: the mine is not barrelling ahead unchecked. There is a hydrological pilot study that needs to be underway to test the safety of the in-situ leaching method, specifically for our aquifer. This is  not some rushed job; it is a thorough assessment of water flow, potential contamination risks, and long-term impacts. The problem? It has stalled because of delays in water permits from the Ministry of Agriculture, Water, and Land Reform. Bureaucracy is holding it back, not science. If that study, once completed, proves the method is safe, with no irreversible damage to our water, then why should not the mine get the green light?

Opponents like SAUMA argue it is too risky. Farming itself is the riskiest business there is, yet as farmers, they get up day by day and work tirelessly to get gains. Where does all that courage run to this time around?  Let us look at the flip side. 

The mine could create hundreds of jobs, from skilled technicians to support roles, paying way better than farm labour. It could bring infrastructure: better roads, schools and clinics. 

For youth like me, it means training programmes in mining tech, environmental monitoring, or even renewable energy tie-ins. We could diversify our economy, reduce reliance on unpredictable agriculture, and keep families together instead of scattering to cities.

I agree that we need to protect our water at all costs. But blocking it outright, without waiting for the data, feels like denying us a chance to break the cycle. 

SAUMA speaks for the privileged and not for the many. Some of us in Leonardville see potential: sustainable development if done right, with strict regulations and community oversight.

As a youth who has seen friends emigrate for lack of opportunities, I say give science a shot. Complete the hydrological study, address the permit issues, and let the facts decide. If it’s safe, let Headspring proceed. Our future depends on bold steps, not endless hardship. Leonardville deserves more than just surviving; we deserve to thrive. I repeat, we do not want to become generational farmworkers forever.

*Anton Geinub is a youth activist from Leonardville. He writes in his personal capacity.