The Namibian State’s Duty to Protect Citizens’ Rights: Why Unclaimed Benefits Demand Urgent National Attention

The protection of the rights and benefits of citizens has always been a core duty of the State. Long before Independence, this principle was embedded—albeit unevenly and with racial bias—into the legal framework governing estates and public administration. One of the clearest examples is the Administration of Estates Act of 1965, a law that still shapes how Namibia safeguards the financial interests of beneficiaries today.

A Law Built to Protect the Vulnerable

The 1965 Act was drafted with four key objectives:

• Consolidation of Estate Law – bringing scattered rules under one coherent system.
• Clear Authority of the Master of the High Court – establishing a central figure to oversee estates and ensure accountability.
• Protection of Beneficiaries and Creditors – preventing abuse, mismanagement, or loss of rightful entitlements.
• Regulation of the Guardian’s Fund – creating a secure mechanism to hold money belonging to minors, untraceable heirs, and adults under curatorship.

The Guardian’s Fund remains one of the most important public institutions for safeguarding vulnerable citizens. It exists precisely because the State recognises that some individuals—children, incapacitated adults, or missing beneficiaries—cannot protect their own financial interests.

The Hidden Crisis: Unclaimed Pension Benefits

Despite these protections, many Namibian consumers remain unaware of what happens to their pension contributions when they leave an employer. When a member resigns, retires, or is dismissed, an Exit Event occurs. If the member does not claim their benefit, the money does not disappear—but it does enter a long and complex legal process.

The journey of an unclaimed benefit typically follows this path:

• Missing contact details stall the payment.
• Statutory tracing begins, as fund administrators are legally required to search for the member or dependants.
• Unclaimed Benefit Designation occurs after five years of unsuccessful tracing.
• Every January, funds must submit a sworn statement of all unclaimed amounts.
• Every February, these amounts must be advertised in the Government Gazette, giving beneficiaries three months to claim.
• If still unclaimed, the money is transferred to the Master of the High Court for safekeeping.

This system is designed to protect citizens—but it only works if citizens know it exists.

A National Record of Missing Money

In 2020, I began a project to collect every Government Gazette that published “Unclaimed Monies” notices. By January 2026, I had uploaded all beneficiary information from these notices online, making them publicly accessible for the first time in Namibia’s history.

The database (GRN Gazettes: https://shorturl.at/f6R21) now contains:

• Beneficiaries from 2014 to 2026 (13 Gazettes)
• 26,928 individual claims
• N$ 324.7 million in unclaimed benefits

This is not just a statistic—it is a national alarm bell. Behind every unclaimed benefit is a person, a family, or a community deprived of money that legally belongs to them.

Tracing the People Behind the Numbers

After compiling the Gazette records, I focused on the traceability of beneficiaries. Using publicly available information and the NamConsumer Database, which began in 2004, I started identifying individuals who may be unaware that money is waiting for them.

The results are clear:

Namibia does not have a problem of missing money.

Namibia has a problem of missing people.

Many beneficiaries have moved, changed phone numbers, relocated to rural areas, or passed away without their families knowing about the benefit. Others simply never understood the pension system or assumed their contributions were lost.

Why This Matters Now

The State’s duty to protect citizens is not theoretical—it is practical, measurable, and urgent. The Administration of Estates Act created mechanisms to safeguard benefits, but modern Namibia needs modern solutions:

• Public awareness campaigns
• Digital tracing tools
• Collaboration between pension funds, government, and civil society
• A national unclaimed benefits portal
• Community-level outreach, especially in rural areas

The money exists. The beneficiaries exist. The gap between them is a matter of information, access, and awareness.

A Call to Action

Every Namibian deserves to know that the State has systems to protect their financial rights. Every pension fund must fulfil its legal duty to trace members. And every citizen should check whether they or their relatives appear in the unclaimed benefits records.

The principle that the State must protect its people is not new—it is older than Independence. But today, with hundreds of millions in unclaimed benefits, it is more important than ever.

Namibia cannot afford to leave its citizens’ money behind.

The Legacy I Want to Leave: Building Systems That Help People Find What Belongs to Them

 "True success isn’t what you leave behind—it’s what continues to benefit generations after you’re gone."

 

When I look back at my journey, I realise that many of the things I have done started with a simple question: Why does the system work this way, and can it work better?

As a child, I found value in what others ignored. Those torn magazine covers and discarded floppy disks opened my eyes to the fact that information has value — even when someone else thinks it is no longer useful. Years later, that same thinking followed me into technology, databases, consumer rights, and now helping people find money that belongs to them.

Over the years, I have become convinced that one of the biggest problems in society is not always the lack of resources. Sometimes the problem is that the resources exist, but ordinary people do not know where to find them.

A person can work their whole life, contribute to a pension fund, have an insurance policy, inherit money, or be a beneficiary of an estate — and yet years later that money can sit somewhere untouched because nobody knows how to claim it.

That is where the idea started: create a system that connects people with what is already theirs.

For many years now, I have been working with information that is publicly available. In 2003, I started building a consumer database using information that was available through public sources. It was not about collecting secrets. It was about organising information that already existed, and using it to solve problems.

At the time, many people did not understand the importance of data. Today, everyone talks about databases, artificial intelligence, and digital platforms. But the real value of data has always been the same: helping people make better decisions.

A database is not just rows and columns. Behind every record is a person. Behind every name is a story.

This is why the work I am doing with unclaimed monies has become so important to me.

When people hear the words “unclaimed money”, they often think it belongs to someone else. They imagine it is complicated, or that the amounts are too small to worry about.

But behind every entry in a government gazette, every pension fund record, and every estate file, there is a person or a family who may be missing something that belongs to them.

Sometimes it is a pension benefit from a previous employer. Sometimes it is money from an estate. Sometimes it is simply a case where life moved on, addresses changed, and communication was lost.

The frustrating part is that the money is often already there. The challenge is creating the bridge between the institution holding the funds and the person who should receive them.

This is where technology, tracing, and organised information can make a difference.

My vision is not just to help one person at a time. My vision is to create a system where citizens can easily check what belongs to them, understand their rights, and get assistance when the process becomes complicated.

The same principle applies to consumer protection.

For years, I have watched consumers struggle because they do not know their rights. They sign contracts they do not understand, they pay fees they cannot explain, and they often do not know where to complain when something goes wrong.

A strong consumer database and information system can help identify patterns. It can show where problems are occurring, which industries generate complaints, and where laws or regulations need improvement.

Information gives citizens a voice.

Governments have databases. Companies have databases. Banks have databases. Pension funds have databases.

But ordinary citizens often do not have a system working for them.

That is the gap I want to help close.

When I started collecting information many years ago, I did not know exactly where it would lead. I was simply trying to solve problems. I was looking at information that others ignored and asking: “How can this help people?”

Today, that same philosophy continues.

Technology is not valuable because it is modern. Technology is valuable because it helps people.

A database is not valuable because it contains millions of records. It is valuable when one person receives a phone call saying: “We found something that belongs to you.”

That moment changes lives.

As a father, I often think about what legacy means. It is not only about leaving behind possessions or money. Those things can disappear.

A true legacy is leaving behind something that continues helping people after you are gone.

My hope is that my children will look back one day and understand that their father believed information should serve people. That systems should not only benefit organisations and institutions, but also ordinary citizens.

I want them to see that one person with a computer, some curiosity, and a belief that things can be improved can make a difference.

The journey started with torn magazine covers and free floppy disks.

Today it is about finding lost money, protecting consumers, and building bridges between people and the systems that are supposed to serve them.

The technology has changed.

The mission has not.

I kept the tone reflective and story-driven like your CNA/floppy disk blog, with the focus on systems, information, citizens, and legacy rather than making it sound like a corporate article.

Namibia Has a Referendum Law… But Almost Nobody Can Use It

Imagine your school announces some exciting news.

The principal says, “From now on, whenever there is a really important issue, all the learners can vote.”

Everyone cheers.

You think, “That’s wonderful! If enough learners want to change a rule, we’ll simply ask for a vote.”

Then you discover something surprising.

The learners are not allowed to ask for a vote.

They cannot collect signatures.

They cannot force the principal to listen.

They cannot even insist that the school board discuss their idea.

The only people who can decide whether there will be a vote are the principal or the school board.

Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like the learners have much power after all.

That is very similar to how referendums work in Namibia.

What is a referendum?

A referendum is one of the simplest ideas in democracy.

Instead of politicians making a decision, the people vote directly.

Everyone receives the same question and answers either YES or NO.

Countries use referendums to decide important issues such as changing their constitution, introducing new laws, or settling questions that divide public opinion.

The people themselves become the decision-makers.

Namibia has a referendum law

Many Namibians do not realise that our Electoral Act already contains detailed rules about referendums.

The law explains how polling stations should operate, how votes should be counted, and how the Electoral Commission should organise the process.

In other words, Namibia already knows how to hold a referendum.

But there is one very important problem.

Who gets to start one?

Imagine a sixteen-year-old girl asks her mother:

“Mommy, how can we get a referendum to legalise abortion?”

Her mother opens the law to find the answer.

She discovers that ordinary people cannot start a referendum.

Not if 100 people want one.

Not if 10,000 people want one.

Not even if one million Namibians agree.

Instead, only two things can happen.

The President can decide that a referendum is in the public interest.

Or the National Assembly can pass a resolution asking for one.

That means ordinary citizens have no legal way to force a referendum to happen.

Why does this matter?

This is not really about abortion.

Someone else may want a referendum about cannabis.

Another person may want one about the death penalty.

Someone else may want one about electoral reform, corruption, regional boundaries, or another important national issue.

The subject is not the point.

The principle is.

In a democracy, should ordinary citizens have the right to ask the whole country to vote on an important issue?

At the moment, the answer in Namibia is largely no.

The missing piece

Many democratic countries allow citizens to collect signatures.

If enough people support an idea, Parliament must debate it or a referendum must be held.

This is called a citizens’ initiative.

It does not guarantee that people will win.

It simply guarantees that the people can start the conversation.

Namibia has no such system.

We have rules for running a referendum once someone in authority decides there should be one.

We do not have rules that allow ordinary Namibians to begin the process themselves.

Democracy belongs to the people

Our Constitution begins with the words:

“We, the people of Namibia…”

Those words remind us that government exists because of the people—not the other way around.

If the people are trusted to elect governments every five years, perhaps they should also be trusted to ask for a referendum on issues of national importance.

That does not mean every proposal should succeed.

It simply means the people should have a lawful way to place an important question before the nation.

Namibia already has a referendum law.

What it does not yet have is a true citizens’ referendum.

Perhaps that is the next step in strengthening our democracy.

Yango’s Navigation Problem Shows a Bigger Truth: The App Does Not Understand Namibia — and It Does Not Care to Learn

For months now, Namibian consumers have complained about Yango’s routing system: long detours, time‑wasting loops, and navigation choices that make no sense to anyone who actually lives in Windhoek. Drivers lose income. Passengers lose time. And Yango’s support team continues to blame drivers instead of fixing the underlying problem — their maps simply do not know Namibia.

A recent exchange between Yango Support and Milton Louw, Executive Director of the Namibia Consumer Protection Group, illustrates the issue perfectly. It reads less like customer service and more like a chatbot stuck in a loop.

𝑨 𝑫𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝑵𝒐 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆
Milton lives in Avis and takes Yango every morning to Kleine Professor School. Anyone familiar with Windhoek knows the route: a short, direct drive via Auasblick, across Robert Mugabe and around the army base and into Andimba ya Toivo. Yet Yango’s app insists on sending drivers on a bizarre detour:
* Around St Paul’s College
* Up through Jan Jonker, then Robert Mugabe
* Through morning traffic
* Adding unnecessary kilometres and minutes

The app’s own ride reports show the direct route is 14 minutes faster, yet Yango repeatedly claims their system is “avoiding traffic jams.”

This is not a traffic‑based decision. It is a mapping failure.

𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 — 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑫𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚
The email thread shows a pattern:

1. 𝙍𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣
Yango Support repeatedly asks for coordinates, screenshots, and technical details that the average consumer should never be expected to provide. As Milton wrote:

“No. That’s your job. I am the Director of the Namibia Consumer Group (and an IT Guru), and this is unacceptable.”

Instead of investigating, Support keeps asking whether he can “see their previous messages.”

2. 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 — 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆
When Milton points out that the app’s route is wrong, Support responds:

“Passengers often know a faster or more convenient route… the driver should agree to follow the route that his passengers prefer.”

This has nothing to do with the complaint. The issue is not the driver. The issue is Yango’s faulty navigation system.

Yet Support repeats the same line again the next morning — almost word‑for‑word — showing either automation or a script that ignores context.

3. 𝑵𝒐 𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎
Even after Milton explains that the app’s suggested route is three times longer, Support insists:

“The navigation system suggested the driver to select a route without any traffic jams.”

This is factually incorrect. The app’s own ride report contradicts it.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆: 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒐’𝒔 𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑰𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑩𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒂
Windhoek is not Moscow. It is not Lagos. It is not Dubai.
Our road network is unique:
* Steep hills
* Shortcuts known only to locals
* Traffic patterns that differ from global models
* Suburbs with limited entry/exit points
* Roads that appear “major” on satellite maps but are inefficient in practice

Yango’s routing engine clearly relies on foreign data models that do not reflect Namibian reality. Instead of adapting to local conditions, the company expects consumers to provide technical data so they can “forward it to their Maps team.”

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫‑𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜

𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬
For passengers
* Longer travel times
* Higher costs
* Frustration and wasted mornings
* Feeling unheard by customer support

For drivers
* Lower earnings due to inefficient routes
* Blame from passengers
* Blame from Yango
* Pressure to ignore the app and rely on local knowledge

Drivers are being forced to choose between following Yango’s flawed system or following the passenger’s instructions — and then being blamed either way.

𝑨 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑫𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏
The email thread shows a deeper problem: Yango’s support system is not designed to understand Namibia, and it is not designed to listen.

When a consumer explains the issue clearly, Support responds with:
* Repetition
* Scripted apologies
* Irrelevant instructions
* Blame shifting
At no point does Yango acknowledge the core issue: their maps are wrong.

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆
Namibians deserve a ride‑hailing service that:
* Uses accurate local mapping data
* Respects consumer time
* Supports drivers instead of blaming them
* Provides real customer service, not chatbot‑style scripts
* Invests in Namibia instead of treating it as an afterthought

Until Yango fixes its navigation system, Namibians will continue to pay for inefficiency — in time, money, and frustration.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
This is not a small glitch. It is a systemic failure.

Yango entered Namibia promising convenience, affordability, and modern mobility. But if the company cannot even map a simple Avis‑to‑Kleine Professor route correctly — and cannot respond to consumers with meaningful support — then it is failing in its basic duty to the Namibian public.

The Namibia Consumer Protection Group will continue monitoring this issue and collecting complaints. Yango must invest in proper local mapping, proper local support, and proper respect for Namibian consumers.

Windhoek’s Invisible Walls

When South Africa’s Constitutional Court recently delivered a unanimous judgment concerning Cape Town’s urban development, it did more than settle a legal dispute. It reignited a debate that resonates far beyond South Africa’s borders: when does the legacy of apartheid become the responsibility of today’s leaders?

That question deserves to be asked in Namibia.

Not because our legal circumstances are identical—they are not. Nor because Windhoek is Cape Town—it is not. But because the underlying challenge is remarkably similar. Our cities continue to bear the imprint of decisions made decades ago, and unless we deliberately change course, future generations will inherit those same divisions.

For years, politicians have celebrated Namibia’s political independence. They have every reason to do so. Independence transformed our nation and gave us the freedom to determine our own destiny.

Yet political freedom does not automatically erase the geography of inequality.

Take a drive through Windhoek.

Within minutes you can travel from leafy suburbs with broad streets, dependable municipal services and thriving commercial centres to communities where thousands of families continue to wait for serviced land, proper sanitation, tarred roads and secure housing.

The contrast is impossible to ignore.

It is tempting to explain this simply as poverty. But poverty alone does not determine where people live. Planning does. Housing policy does. Land availability does. Public investment does.

In other words, inequality has a geography.

Where you live influences how much you spend travelling to work. It determines whether emergency services reach you quickly. It affects access to schools, healthcare, banking facilities and employment opportunities. It even shapes whether businesses choose to invest in your neighbourhood.

Location creates opportunity—or limits it.

That is why urban planners often speak of spatial inequality. In Southern Africa, many describe its historical origins as spatial apartheid: the deliberate separation of communities through planning, infrastructure and land allocation.

Namibia inherited that system.

The uncomfortable question is whether we are dismantling it quickly enough.

To be fair, progress has been made.

The City of Windhoek has expanded basic services into new areas. Government has introduced housing initiatives. Private developers continue to build. Civil society organisations have worked tirelessly to improve living conditions in informal settlements.

Yet despite these efforts, the waiting lists continue to grow.

Informal settlements continue to expand.

Affordable serviced land remains scarce.

Young families struggle to enter the housing market.

Workers continue to spend significant portions of their income simply getting to work.

These are not isolated problems.

They are symptoms of a city whose physical form still reflects yesterday more than tomorrow.

Too often our public debates descend into assigning blame. One political party blames another. Local government blames central government. Central government points to financial constraints. Citizens blame everyone.

Meanwhile, the geography remains largely unchanged.

The more useful question is not who created the problem.

History has already answered that.

The more important question is who is prepared to solve it.

Every municipal budget is, in reality, a statement about priorities.

Every decision on land servicing shapes future neighbourhoods.

Every transport project either connects communities or leaves them isolated.

Every housing development either promotes integration or reinforces separation.

These are not merely technical planning decisions. They are decisions about social justice.

For too long we have treated housing as a social expense rather than economic infrastructure.

A family living closer to employment spends less on transport, has more disposable income, enjoys more family time and contributes more effectively to the local economy. Businesses benefit from a larger accessible workforce. Municipal services become more efficient. The entire city becomes more productive.

Inclusive cities are not acts of charity.

They are engines of economic growth.

This is where the conversation must evolve.

We should stop measuring success solely by the number of houses built or kilometres of roads constructed. Those statistics matter, but they do not tell the whole story.

The real measure of success is whether opportunities are becoming more equally distributed across the city.

Can a child born in Havana realistically expect the same access to opportunity as a child born in Ludwigsdorf?

Can a domestic worker afford to live anywhere near her place of employment?

Can a young entrepreneur establish a business without spending hours every day travelling across the city?

If the answers remain uncertain, then our work is far from complete.

Windhoek deserves a new urban conversation.

One that moves beyond compliance with legislation and focuses instead on enabling opportunity.

One that recognises that social inclusion is not a slogan but a planning principle.

One that understands that land reform, affordable housing, public transport and economic development are inseparable.

Most importantly, one that accepts that the invisible walls dividing our city are no less real simply because they are no longer enforced by law.

They persist through distance.

Through infrastructure.

Through economics.

Through planning.

Namibia cannot change the history that shaped Windhoek.

But we can decide whether the next generation inherits its divisions or its possibilities.

That choice belongs not only to politicians and planners.

It belongs to every citizen who believes that a city should bring people together rather than keep them apart.

If we are serious about building the Namibia envisioned at Independence, then perhaps it is time to stop asking whether apartheid planning still exists.

Instead, we should ask a far more important question:

Are we building one Windhoek—or are we still living in two?

Reflections on Two Decades of Consumer Activism in Namibia

My journey as a consumer activist began in 2006 when I founded the Namibia Consumer Protection Group, which started as a dedicated pressure group of Namibians on Facebook. Since that time, my mission has been to advocate for a fairer economic environment and the establishment of a robust consumer charter for business. Reflecting on the twenty years that have passed between my initial efforts and the ongoing parliamentary discussions in 2026, it is disheartening to see how many of the same systemic issues—specifically regarding debt and lending—continue to plague Namibian citizens.

The Path to the First Parliamentary Enquiry

The formal process toward legislative reform began in earnest in the early 2000s. After receiving specialised training in Düsseldorf, Germany between 2002 and 2003 on credit rating and business reporting, I returned to Namibia to develop a business plan for a national credit information system. This effort culminated in a significant milestone on 14 July 2006, when I made a formal submission to the Parliamentary Standing Committee on Economics, Natural Resources and Public Administration.

In that first enquiry, I argued that high bank charges and interest rates were driven by the "difficulties in assessing risk" and a lack of reliable consumer data. My proposal at the time was the creation of a Credit Bureau and an economic database through a public-private partnership to provide a reliable source of information, which would theoretically force banks to become more competitive and offer better rates to creditworthy clients.

Comparing Current Proposals (2026) vs. Historical Context

Looking at the recent June 2026 public hearing on lending law protections, the conversation has shifted toward a "social problem" specifically affecting the civil service. While the core issues of high debt and predatory lending remain, the participants in this recent committee meeting offer varying perspectives:

• The Office of the Prime Minister (OPM): They identify the primary causes of debt as low salaries, easy access to credit, and the lack of control over the deduction code system. They acknowledge that the previously mandatory "one-third" net pay rule is no longer effectively enforced by the Ministry of Finance, resulting in civil servants receiving as little as N$ 500 take-home pay.
• Trade Unions (TUN and PSUN): They highlight that salaries are not commensurate with the rising cost of living and inflation. They strongly criticise "loan sharks" (microlenders) charging interest rates of 37% or higher and argue that the current regulatory framework actually supports the concentration of wealth in the hands of a few "well-connected" lenders with access to deduction codes.
• Microlenders Association: They maintain that their members are regulated by NAMFISA and adhere to legal interest caps—notably 30% for short-term "payday" loans—while pointing to the need for better financial literacy embedded in the national curriculum.

Comparing these to my earlier work, there is a clear stagnation in the implementation of protections. In 2011, I noted that the Information and Communications Act had taken ten years to pass, and other crucial laws like the Electronic Transaction and Privacy Protection bills had been "in the pipeline" since 2005. In 2026, officials are still lamenting that while the "regulatory framework could be good on paper," its implementation is failing to serve its purpose.

The Way Forward: Beyond Policy to Implementation

To move forward, we must stop the cycle of endless consultation and move toward specific, enforceable actions. Drawing from my book Future Namibia and the recent hearings, I suggest the following:

1. A Comprehensive Consumer Protection Act: This must include the "Right to Information" and "Right to Redress," ensuring that consumers can challenge fraudulent or misleading practices.
2. Establishment of a Small Claims Court: As proposed years ago, a court for claims up to N$ 20,000 would allow ordinary citizens to handle their own cases without the prohibitive cost of lawyers.
3. National Credit Register and Data Protection: We must finalise the National Credit Register and pass the Data Protection Act to ensure that consumer information is used correctly and that individuals have the right to access and correct their own data.
4. Reform of the Deduction Code System: As suggested in the 2026 hearing, the government must regain control over the salary deduction codes. Lenders should be forced to secure repayments through bank arrangements (debit orders) rather than having direct, unregulated access to the state payroll.
5. Compulsory Financial Literacy and Wellness: Financial education should be a mandatory school subject ("Citizens' Knowledge") to ensure that future generations understand both their rights and their responsibilities.

Twenty years is too long to wait for the "fruits of freedom" to reach the average consumer. We need a culture of innovation in government that acts fast to protect its most vulnerable citizens from the cycle of debt.

More Than N$200 Million Is Waiting. The Question Is: Will You Claim What Is Yours?

For years I have spent my time tracing people.

Not criminals. Not missing persons.

People who are owed money.

Sometimes it is an insurance benefit. Sometimes a pension payout. Sometimes an estate distribution. Sometimes money that has been sitting untouched for years because nobody knew it existed.

What continues to surprise me is not how much money is unclaimed in Namibia.

It is how little the public knows about where to look.

During my work as a tracer of beneficiaries and policyholders, I discovered that more than N$200 million is believed to be lying unclaimed at the Office of the Master of the High Court alone. Add to that unclaimed insurance benefits, pension fund benefits, deceased estate distributions and other forgotten payments, and the amount becomes staggering.

The money belongs to ordinary Namibians.

The problem is that many people never receive the information.

The Information Exists – But It Is Hidden in Plain Sight

Every week, government notices are published in the Namibia Government Gazette.

These notices contain valuable information about:

• Deceased estates
• Insolvent estates
• Company liquidations
• Trustee notices
• Estate distributions
• Legal notices
• Public announcements

For decades, the information has been publicly available.

The challenge is that finding it has often been difficult.

Many people do not know where to search. Others do not have the time to go through hundreds of gazettes. Some simply do not know that a family member’s name may appear in a notice connected to money or an estate.

As a result, assets remain unclaimed while families struggle financially.

A Typical Story

Imagine that your grandfather worked for a company many years ago.

He passes away.

An insurance policy or pension benefit remains unpaid because no beneficiary comes forward.

Years pass.

The records still exist.

The money still exists.

But nobody claims it because nobody knows where to look.

This is not an unusual situation.

I have seen cases where beneficiaries were completely unaware that funds existed in their name.

In some cases, the amount is modest.

In others, it can change a family’s circumstances significantly.

Why I Created the Gazette Lookup Service

After spending years helping people locate information, I realised that access to information was the biggest obstacle.

That is why I started compiling and digitising Namibia’s Government Gazettes.

What began as a simple project has grown into a substantial searchable database.

The collection currently covers thousands of gazette entries and continues to expand as older gazettes are digitised.

The aim is simple:

To make it easier for ordinary Namibians to discover information that may affect them or their families.

You can search the gazette lookup service here:

GRN Gazette Lookup Service

Why People Should Check

Many people assume that if money belongs to them, somebody will contact them.

Unfortunately, that is not always how the system works.

Addresses change.

People move.

Employers close down.

Family members pass away.

Records become outdated.

The responsibility often falls on the beneficiary to come forward and prove entitlement.

That is why a simple search can be worthwhile.

You may find:

• A deceased estate involving a relative.
• An estate distribution notice.
• Information that assists with a claim.
• Evidence that helps trace a long-forgotten benefit.
• A lead worth investigating further.

I Can Help

Finding a name is often only the first step.

Understanding the notice, locating supporting documentation, identifying the correct office and following the claims process can be confusing.

This is where my experience as a tracer can help.

I have spent years working with beneficiaries, estates and unclaimed monies, helping people navigate the process and understand what information is required.

No genuine beneficiary should lose out simply because they did not know where to look.

The Bottom Line

More than N$200 million may be waiting at the Master of the High Court.

Millions more may be sitting elsewhere in unclaimed benefits and estates.

The money already belongs to someone.

The real question is whether that person knows it exists.

If there is even a small chance that you, a family member or a deceased relative may have unclaimed funds, it may be worth spending a few minutes searching.

After all, if it is yours, why not claim it?

Search the Gazette Lookup Service:
https://shorturl.at/f6R21

Need assistance interpreting a notice or tracing a possible claim? Contact Milton Louw for guidance and support.