A Namibian entrepreneur walks into the Development Bank of Namibia (DBN) with a registered company, a sound business plan, government approvals, environmental clearances, and financial projections demonstrating profitability.

Development Bank of Namibia reviews the application, finds the project viable, and grants approval. Then comes the condition: provide 10% of the loan amount as an own contribution. For a N$10 million project, that is N$1 million. The project does not die from lack of merit, but from a requirement that no ordinary Namibian start-ups can meet.

Once again, a bank that bears the word “development” in its name chooses to turn its back on the very people it was created to serve.

The Development Bank of Namibia was never intended to operate like a commercial institution. Its mandate is unequivocal: to finance development, support emerging enterprises, and ensure that Namibians drive their country’s economic transformation. Yet somewhere between that mandate and the loan officer’s desk, the purpose has been lost. DBN has become a gatekeeper, filtering out local potential while foreign capital walks through unchallenged.

This is the paradox suffocating Namibian enterprise: the institution tasked with developing Namibia demands that Namibians be developed before it will lift a finger to help.

The majority of Namibian entrepreneurs are not born into wealth. They do not inherit farms, businesses, or trust funds. They begin with a salary, a skill, and a vision. They spend their own money to register companies, navigate bureaucracy, secure approvals, and prepare documentation.

By the time they stand at DBN’s door, they have already invested years and tens of thousands of dollars just to become eligible to request support. And then they are told: “Your project is approved. Now show us the money.”

For a nation grappling with high unemployment and a youth population desperate for economic inclusion, this is not conservative banking. It is economic sabotage.

While DBN turns away Namibians with approved, viable projects, foreign entities enter the country with capital in hand, extract Namibian oil, mine Namibian minerals, and ship the profits abroad. The claim that Namibians “lack capacity” rings hollow when the very institution designed to build that capacity refuses to fund the tools of production. How does capacity grow when the development bank will not finance a drilling machine, a processing plant, or a manufacturing facility in Namibian hands? This is not just exportation of opportunities but an importation of poverty.

Prudence is necessary. Banks must recover their funds. But risk mitigation does not require impossible equity demands. DBN could structure loans with graduated repayment terms linked to project milestones. It could take equity stakes in high-potential ventures rather than demanding cash upfront. It could partner with international development financiers to blend concessional capital with commercial terms. It could invest in rigorous project supervision to ensure funds are used as intended, rather than using the 10% rule as a lazy filter that excludes everyone except the already-rich. A Namibian entrepreneur with a registered company, government approvals, and a profitable project plan has already demonstrated commitment. That entrepreneur has skin in the game, not in the form of millions in the bank, but in years of effort, personal sacrifice, and national loyalty. That should count for something.

DBN must choose whose interest it serves.

A N$20 million oil drilling plant in Namibian hands is worth infinitely more to this country than a N$2 million deposit from a foreign competitor. The question DBN should ask is not “How much does the applicant have?” but “How much will this project give back to Namibia?” Success should be measured not by the size of the loan book but by the number of Namibian-owned enterprises moved from paper to production.

To the Board and Management of DBN: your mandate is not to replicate commercial banking. Commercial banks already exist. Your purpose is to fill the gap they leave, the space where potential meets poverty, where vision meets viability, and where Namibians seek to shape their own future. Review the equity requirements. Introduce alternative risk-sharing instruments. Create dedicated windows for capital-intensive indigenous projects.

Stop treating a cash contribution as the sole measure of creditworthiness, when it is, in fact, a measure of inherited privilege.

To the Minister of Finance and the Prime Minister: economic empowerment, local content, and resource sovereignty are not abstract ideals. They are tested when a Namibian entrepreneur is told “approved, but…”.

Development Bank of Namibia lending criteria are not merely an operational matter; they are a matter of national sovereignty. When a Namibian with an approved project cannot access funding for oil extraction while foreign companies operate freely, the nation is not developing. It is surrendering.

Entities owned by Namibian men and women are drowning while we celebrate foreign investment.

Will the next generation inherit a Namibia where their resources are controlled from boardrooms in London, Houston, and Beijing? Or will they inherit a Namibia where a registered company with a sound plan can secure the resources to build the nation?

The answer depends on whether DBN chooses to be a wall or a bridge.

*Eico Nghidipohamba Matheus is a Social Justice Advocate for Change.