As schools reopened this week for the 2026 academic year, a great deal of reflection has been going on in my mind. 

Across the country, one encounters children who remain out of school, teachers who are exhausted and frustrated by overcrowded classrooms, and qualified, graduate teachers moving from interview to interview in search of work. 

At the same time, one cannot ignore the scale of public investment in education. Every financial year, the government allocates a significant portion of the national budget to this sector, yet the outcomes remain deeply troubling. 

This raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: is the ministry of education improving delivery, or are we investing substantial resources in ways that fail to address the real problems? Who ultimately benefits from the current system is not always clear, but there must be at least a willingness to acknowledge that something is not working as it should. 

There are many concerns, and they are interconnected. However, rather than dwelling only on what is failing, I want to focus on how we rethink education moving forward. 

Namibia’s education debate has, for many years, focused on budgets, curriculum changes, and examination results. Yet we continue to avoid confronting a deeper structural problem that undermines learning outcomes, fuels inequality, and weakens our long-term economic prospects. 

If we are serious about the future of this country and the generations that will inherit it, we must be willing to rethink not only what we teach, but how we organise education itself. 

This is a constitutional and legal obligation, not just a policy preference. Article 20 of the Namibian Constitution guarantees the right to education for all and requires the State to provide facilities to make this right effective. 

The right goes beyond physical access; it requires conditions for meaningful teaching and learning. The Basic Education Act enacts this duty by obliging the State to ensure access to quality education and empowering the minister to set norms for class size, teacher–learner ratios, and school facilities. 

When current arrangements undermine learning through overcrowding, the State must reorganise the education system to fulfill this constitutional promise. 

One such rethink is long overdue. Namibia should seriously consider introducing a double-shift school system for junior and secondary schools, operating from 07:00 to 13:00 and from 13:30 to 19:00, with class sizes capped at 35 learners. This is not a radical proposal. It is a rational and economically sound response to problems we have already acknowledged but have failed to resolve. 

Across the country, classrooms of 60 to 70 learners have become common, especially in rural areas, informal settlements, and townships, making quality education impossible. No teacher can track progress or provide support at that scale, and it turns classrooms into containment spaces with weak skills, low pass rates, rising repetition, and dropout rates. 

Reducing class sizes to 35 changes this, and enables better teaching, earlier intervention, improved discipline, and better outcomes, especially for disadvantaged students. 

This is not about comfort but about ensuring effective, equitable education. Namibia is not alone; many countries in Latin America, Asia, and Africa use double-shift schooling to expand access, reduce class sizes, and maximise infrastructure. Though not perfect, double-shift systems are a pragmatic tool when demand exceeds capacity. 

At the same time, this reform makes economic sense. Schools are among the most capital-intensive public assets the Namibian State owns, yet they are currently used for only half the day. In a constrained fiscal environment, continuing to respond to overcrowding primarily by building new classrooms is inefficient and unsustainable. 

A double-shift system allows the government to expand capacity and reduce class sizes by maximising existing infrastructure, consistent with constitutional principles of reasonableness and responsible public resource use. 

There is also a critical employment dimension. Namibia faces the contradiction of having unemployed graduate teachers while existing teachers are overwhelmed by unmanageable class sizes. Reducing class sizes automatically creates demand for more teachers. This is not artificial job creation or a temporary scheme; it is permanent, skilled employment directly linked to improve public service delivery and enhanced educational outcomes. 

Beyond education and employment, this reform has social implications. The early afternoon-to-evening hours are high-risk for young people. Afternoon school shifts offer structure, supervision, and purpose, reducing risks from crime, substance abuse, and unsafe settings. 

This approach also addresses inequality. Overcrowded classrooms affect rural and township schools more, while better-resourced areas use private schooling or extra support. A double-shift system helps standardise learning conditions across regions, promoting equality rather than deepening disparities. 

Concerns about teacher fatigue, student transport, safety, and parental acceptance are valid and manageable. Shift-based contracts, phased rollout, local coordination, and community engagement can handle these issues. 

Legally, such reforms are already permitted; what is needed is political will and proper administration. 

What should concern us more is the cost of doing nothing. Weak education outcomes translate into unemployment, inequality, crime, and social instability tomorrow. Education must be understood not merely as a social service, but as a constitutional commitment and a strategic investment with generational consequences. 

A double-shift school system is not radical. It is rational, constitutionally grounded, internationally recognisable, and aligned with Namibia’s fiscal realities and developmental needs. 

Future generations will judge us by whether teachers can teach, learners can learn, and schools truly prepare them for life. 

*Hidipo Hamata writes in his personal capacity.