A few years ago, I was one of the young Namibians who left. I lived and worked overseas, travelled through different parts of the world and experienced what life looks like outside our small community.
I would encourage every young Namibian who has the opportunity to do the same. Go. Travel. Study. Work. Get uncomfortable. See how other countries operate and discover what you like – and what you don’t. But perhaps most importantly: come back with perspective.
Since returning to Namibia, I have noticed something interesting. We complain. A lot. About the roads. About the government. About crime. About service. About the economy. About things taking too long and things simply not working.
And to be fair, that criticism is justified (especially considering how some issues persist for years). There are people struggling in this country. There is crime. There is unemployment. There are systems that desperately need improvement and a big update. Pretending otherwise wouldn’t help anybody.
But travelling has also taught me that problems don’t disappear when you cross a border. They simply change. The countries we sometimes idealise have their own housing crises, political frustrations, social problems, bureaucracy and people working incredibly hard just to afford their lives.
And suddenly Namibia looks a little different. We live in an extraordinarily peaceful country. We have space. We have a sense of community. We have breathtaking nature on our doorstep. We still have a pace of life that allows us to know our neighbours, sit around a fire, spend time with our families and occasionally stop long enough to actually live.
Even our news sometimes makes me smile. A story that would barely make the local section elsewhere can become a national conversation here. We laugh about it on Facebook, complain about the reporting and wonder whether there really was nothing more important happening that day.
But perhaps there is another way to look at it. Maybe sometimes having relatively small things become big news is also a reminder of how fortunate we are that not every day is dominated by catastrophe.
Namibia is changing, too. We have our first female president. The world is watching developments around our oil and gas resources. New businesses and industries are emerging. And perhaps most interesting to me, I am meeting more and more Namibians of my generation who have spent years abroad and are choosing to come home.
Not because Namibia is perfect. But because the grass isn’t necessarily greener on the other side. The grass is greener where you water it. And water is expensive everywhere – metaphorically and, in Namibia, quite literally.
It costs money, time, energy and love to build a good life wherever you are. After living abroad, I have realised that Namibia gives us something increasingly valuable: room to do exactly that.
So, I don’t regret leaving. Quite the opposite. Going abroad was one of the best things I could have done for myself. It changed me, challenged me and gave me perspective I couldn’t have gained by staying comfortable.
But coming home has made me curious. What happens if those of us who have travelled, studied and worked elsewhere bring some of that experience back? What happens if, alongside complaining about what isn’t working, we start asking what we can contribute to making it work?
Namibia has problems. But Namibia also has enormous potential. And after seeing quite a bit of the world, I’m genuinely glad to be back. Maybe the grass here just needs a little more watering, love and community engagement.
– Silvia Schenk
