Lack of Government Support
While the Namibian government has committed to supporting the arts, including the music industry, as a way to support freedom of expression and work toward sustainable development, musicians today feel that there is a disconnect between the Ministry and the people it is meant to serve.
“There’s a big disconnect between government and what’s actually happening in the arts.” TRIM
Does the Government Appreciate Namibian Musicians?
Musicians expressed a sense that the arts in general, and music in particular, are undersupported in Namibia (“I think everybody loves a musician and music, but is the same funding and support—or not the same: is a proportionate amount of the funding and support that would go to something like sport directed to music? No. No, I don’t believe that at all, I think it’s undersupported in that point of view”). They acknowledged that Namibia faces other issues, like high unemployment (“We have very high poverty levels, we have very high unemployment … but in Namibia, those funds must go somewhere else”) and a need to develop infrastructure (“Because we are still a developing country, it feels like creativity is something that is not really a priority … Institutions are not really pouring too much into that”). However, given the government’s stated goal of supporting the arts, the lack of support many Namibian musicians feel reveals that there is room for improvement.
Musicians called out the government for exploiting local artists for political gain (“When it comes to government, not at all. I don’t feel like we’re valued or appreciated. I feel like it’s just a tool that the government uses for political gain”). Events like the funerals of Namibia’s third president, Dr. Hage Geingob, and first president, Dr. Sam Nujoma, which took place in February 2024 and March 2025, respectively, have spent so much money that the government has been forced to institute a moratorium on state funerals. While caterers, security guards, and others are paid for their contributions, musicians are expected to contribute for free, highlighting the way that the government sees them (“I feel that the Namibian creative scene, let me rather call it, is valued as so far as entertainment is needed for those events, no further,” “That gives you a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very pure and clear answer in how these people look at us.”).
Musicians acknowledged that the government is trying to support the arts more effectively (“the arts are starting to stand out a bit more,” “the government does want to increase the awareness and access”). Progress is a slow process (“might not be so visible, because of how tedious the process is,” but there is cause for optimism (“I’ve seen an improvement in the legal framework, for example,” “We are moving in the direction of ‘appropriate and sufficient’”). However, the issues they face today indicate that the government’s efforts have not yet been successful.
Centralization of Opportunities
Although there are some opportunities for performance and education in Namibia, they are highly centralized. In an article from 2015, Shishani Vranckx, a Namibian musician and academic, wrote that Windhoek, which is Namibia’s capital and largest city, was “the musical centre of the country, offering most possibilities regarding performances, major events, recording, promotion and networking,” along with “almost all arts institutions, broadcasters, arts-related activities and arts education opportunities.” Musicians observe that the situation is largely the same today, with educational institutions like COTA and UNAM only offering music courses in Windhoek (“College of the Arts is only in Windhoek, it needs to happen more in other regions[…]that can also cater for the rest of the country”), venues limited to larger cities and towns (“A lot of our music is centralized[…]People have to come from far just to do a song. It’s sad.”), and grants which are not designed to accommodate those living outside of Windhoek (“I have a problem with these grants because they are not being decentralized. How can an artist in Otjimbingwe who can not even read English, how will he ever get that grant? But he deserves that grant. These things are not being decentralized, and it’s a problem.”). Even within Windhoek, opportunities are centralized. Because of the legacy of apartheid, Windhoek continues to be segregated not by race, but by socioeconomic status, with the majority of music venues situated in or near the Central Business District (CBD), forcing Namibians living in Katutura to travel further to attend concerts or musicals (“The way Windhoek is built, you know?[…]to come to a show in town.”).
Royalties
Many musicians spoke about the difficulty of actually receiving royalties in Namibia and the frustration caused by the Namibian Society of Composers and Authors of Music (NASCAM). NASCAM is meant to function as a collective management organization (CMO), administering the copyrights of artists and helping them to collect royalties. While radio stations are required to submit their logs, recording artists who go to NASCAM to collect their royalty payments are often told that they have not earned as much as they expected, forcing them to do the work of contacting radio stations one by one. In fact, NASCAM only tracks radio play based on Namibian Broadcasting Corporation (NBC) stations, putting artists whose music plays on other stations at a huge disadvantage (“I’ve worked for a bunch of media houses before, and I know for a fact all radio stations are required to submit their logs to NASCAM[…]if that is really the case, then we’ll all do this, but…”).
Meanwhile, NASCAM collects payments from venue owners, radio stations, and artists themselves (“they want the venue owners to pay, they want the radio stations to pay, they want the artists and DJs to pay, and then they don’t want to pay out royalties. How is that fair?”). Although NASCAM itself is not a government institution, it functions like one, and even checks venue licenses with the help of the police (Participant 20 quote). Because of the power NASCAM holds, artists have few alternatives and little agency (“Right now the government kind of doesn’t have an organization, but they are endorsing an organization,” “So where do I go and complain?”). Despite its issues, some participants encouraged local musicians to register with NASCAM anyway (“Go register. Even though NASCAM is a lousy organization, go register for NASCAM[…]and that’s the only way you will get your music to be played anywhere.”). Others have chosen to register with organizations in neighboring countries, like the South African Music Royalties Organization (SAMRO) (“There are some people that register with international organizations,” “SAMRO, if people are playing your music on stage, you’re getting your royalties. They have those structures in place to make sure.”), revealing the lack of faith Namibian musicians have in NASCAM.
Visas
Several musicians brought up the difficulty of obtaining work permits for musicians from outside Namibia, which is a significant obstacle to international collaboration. Collaborations between musicians often come together on the spur of the moment, and many other countries allow musicians to obtain work permits quickly and with few restrictions (“easily, cheaply, simply,” and only requires “two, three weeks’ notice, sometimes it takes three months, here it takes six months, and it costs you more than the concert’s gonna pay you.”). However, the process in Namibia is long and expensive (“It’s the first country I’ve seen this in[…]This is a hindrance”), and the permits themselves are overly restrictive, forcing visiting musicians to apply for separate permits for every performance. Visiting musicians must also pay “licensing fees” to receive a letter from NASCAM, adding to the costs of permits, airfare, and accommodation. This discourages artists from visiting, while also making it impractical or impossible for local festivals (“I’ve seen a hundred shut down, because it’s unsustainable.”), ensembles (Participant 7 quote), or organizations to invite artists from outside Namibia.
There are severe consequences for falling afoul of these restrictions. Musicians who violate the terms of their permits are fined and can be blacklisted, threatening their careers (“The one I’ve been struggling with the most in the last few years was the work visa[…]What our government is basically doing to artists, potentially, is destroying their entire careers.”)
Music Education
Despite the importance of music education for ensuring that young people have opportunities to engage in musicking and develop their skills, musicians observed that music education is not a priority in Namibia. While music is included in public school curriculum, it is not a subject in its own right, and is combined with theater and dance (“Because music is not a school subject as such … So it’s just a little bit of everything, like an introduction, almost, to music,” “It’s not in schools. So I think they will tell you at the Ministry of Education that ‘Yes it is,’ but as I told you, it’s not a promotional subject. It’s also not a primary school subject[…]So that is obviously a drawback and a setback.”). This prevents learners from gaining exposure to Namibian music as well as from opportunities to create music (“That’s the biggest sad story of them all[…]So it’s quite sad that it’s not there in every part of the country”).
Opportunities for higher education in music are also lacking. UNAM offers diploma-level, master’s-level and doctoral-level programs in performing arts, while COTA offers a certificate-level program in music as well as one-year courses for learners in sound production, dance, and piano. However, COTA is based in Windhoek, and despite UNAM’s impressive 12 satellite campuses throughout the country, performing arts is only offered at the central campus in Windhoek. This makes it difficult for prospective students from outside Windhoek to access these programs.
In addition, these institutions do not always prepare graduates to be successful. Part of the issue is a chronic lack of funding, which affects facilities, equipment, and staffing (“College of the Arts is really, like, run-down[…]They don’t put attention on it.”) Graduates of these institutions commented that the curriculum (“Yes, the curriculum[…]the curriculum needs to change totally.”) does not emphasize the business and production skills that are necessary for success in the modern music industry (It was a good experience, but it could have been better with the right curriculum.”).
Financial Considerations: A Balancing Act
Making music is an expensive proposition, and others may not be aware of the significant time and money that musicians invest into their work (“Because music is not just you coming up, performing, and going home. You need to put hours into practice, you need to get practice rooms like at the National Theater, they have everything set up and stuff and you also need to pay for that). Production, travel and accommodation, marketing (“everything about music is image), and NASCAM fees can add up for musicians, while ensembles must also pay for travel and bringing in guest artists (“Of course the biggest problem is—like always—it’s finances[…]It’s very, very difficult,” “Yeah, this is exactly the problem, that we always have to balance[…]This is what we have, this is what we want; how can we integrate it?”).
These financial considerations make it very difficult to make a living in the Namibian music industry (“In Namibia, to really be frank…you cannot rely on the creative space alone”). Many Namibians are forced to choose full-time jobs or education over music (“What is more important, hunger or expression? Clearly hunger”). For some, having a source of income outside of music takes some of the pressure off, allowing them to focus on being creative (“Because my income is not tied to the music[…]and not care whether I get money out of it or not,” “a professional hobby: sometimes I get paid for it, and sometimes I don’t, but it’s not like my life depends on it”). However, attending to different commitments is a delicate balancing act (“Music typically happens…typically happens after five[…]asking my friends who produce for advice”) which can cause musicians to sacrifice their wellbeing (“How I balance? I don’t know, maybe just lack of sleep[…]I really want to start painting again”). This balancing act can make it difficult to devote attention to musicking (“I want to say we should take our craft more seriously … when you have to work an eight-to-five job … because music doesn’t really make money”).
Ensembles like local choirs or the Namibian National Symphony Orchestra (NNSO) face more complex struggles. While they may receive funding from the government or from private sponsors (“Right now…last year we wanted to travel to Swakop, and the Arts Council has funded us the bus,” “highly dependent on sponsors, either from corporates or from charity organizations outside the borders of Namibia”), Unlike popular music artists who are able to make money from their music, members of these ensembles actually pay dues to participate (“music is not putting food on the table. In fact, it cost me money to make music.”) In addition, coordinating work schedules adds another level of difficulty for these ensembles (“As most of our musicians are amateurs, they of course have another job, so it’s not so easy to be available every week for rehearsal.”). Despite personal sacrifices, maintaining this balancing act is sometimes impossible (“It’s very difficult. Because the tendency can be there that somewhere, one or perhaps even all of them can be…not given the correct attention. I won’t say necessarily half-heartedly, because you have to have a passion”).
Venues also face serious financial difficulties, and rather than supporting local venues, musicians commented that government policies seem to make things worse. Sound equipment is very expensive, and for small venues, renting equipment can cut into the amount that they can actually afford to pay musicians. Even public institutions struggle to maintain a collection of sound equipment beyond the bare essentials (“We need more technical equipment[…]because of our technological challenges.”)
Meanwhile, the number of regulations that venues and festivals must follow, and the fees associated with these regulations, make it almost impossible for many venues and festivals to continue operating (“It’s just a million compliance regulations that they have to go through, and the smallest thing can just make it impossible for a venue to open.”) While noise ordinances have their place, they have been weaponized against venues like Soundgarden (“Swakopmund has a great venue that’s constantly under attack[…]That’s what’s happening in this country. It’s one retiree going ‘Oh, I don’t like the noise!’”). Despite the lack of formal venues, existing public spaces are not being utilized (“Because we don’t have a public arts policy[…]Great spots in town that’s just a natural stage,” “Zoo Park, Three Circles, the UN Plaza in Katutura”). Because of these obstacles, performance opportunities are extremely limited.
Technological Barriers
Advances in digital technology have fundamentally changed the global music industry, giving musicians greater control over their work and their ability to monetize it. However, Namibian musicians noted that the country’s failure to keep up with these advances holds them back in a number of ways. Musicians questioned NASCAM’s failure to effectively track radio play, pointing out that they have not adopted ISRC codes (“We don’t have the technology to track ISRC codes[…]who they want”). They suggested that implementing digital technology or even AI could allow it to do its job more effectively (“We are living in the world of AI. Why isn’t NASCAM or the government buying a system that sees that this is the amount of songs that have been played[…]we want that data as artists”). Until recently, Namibian digital creators, including music artists, were unable to profit from online platforms like YouTube (“Namibians are not getting paid from YouTube[…]South Africa is having an office of Tiktok, you understand?” “I would say, like, monetization of YouTube for example[…]That’s one of our biggest problems”). The Ministry of Information and Communication Technology (MICT) has recently made efforts to work with platforms like YouTube and Google to ensure that Namibian creators can monetize their content, prompting optimism (“But it’s something that’s gonna change soon, like how YouTube has been monetized now in Namibia, but it wasn’t before”). However, a lack of digital infrastructure (“even Internet [access] in our country is not fairly distributed”) and unequal access to equipment (“Technological…I think we have everything that we need[…]and also just costs too much”) indicate that Namibian musicians need more support through infrastructure and funding in order to empower them to be successful in the modern music industry.
Cultural Conservatism
Cultural conservatism is a factor which seriously limits Namibian musicians’ ability to express themselves freely. Many Namibians do not take music as a career seriously (“choosing music as a career is not something that’s encouraged in this country.”) This perception stems partially from the very real economic insecurity that many Namibians face, making many reluctant to spend money on concert tickets or CDs (“can be perceived as a luxury.”) However, being a musician also carries a stigma that goes beyond economic concerns (“Being interested in music is like having a disease,” “Growing up as a child back then, I remember, if music was one of the things you loved doing, you would be considered as being gay.”) More importantly, because many Namibians don’t see music as a viable career, young people who show an interest in music are not always supported in pursuing it (“There is a hierarchy … Or I won’t allow my child to go study music, or…you know?” Gretel Coetzee 23:15-24:05: “For parents—it’s one thing to allow the child to take music. I think most parents think ‘Yeah, it’s nice that you do it, especially if we don’t have to pay … It goes all over the demographics, it’s not limited to one social group at all.”) Even those who are already pursuing a career in music can experience a lack of support from family members (“It would be nice to have the support of my family … So yeah, that’s kind of sad.”)
Cultural conservatism, shaped by both traditional culture and Christian values, also limits certain forms of expression. It is not common to hear explicit lyrics on daytime radio in Namibia (Participant 3 quote), demonstrating that the way the media treats expression is shaped by Christian values. Given the ongoing battle for acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community in Namibia, LGBTQ+ musicians cannot express their identities in music openly (“I think if I tied my sexuality to my music, I wouldn’t survive in the music industry. Period … They would know that I am, but I wouldn’t, per se, go and make a music video where I’m kissing a guy. That wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t fly. We’re not there yet.”). Hip-hop music in particular is seen by many as both un-Christian and un-Namibian (“If I came to my house and I told my mother I was doing hip-hop, I think for her it wouldn’t tolerate, because tradition doesn’t, you know, allow that,” “It’s not just language, by the way; it’s also genre[…]informed by the culture I grew up in”), although other foreign genres like kwaito are accepted (“Hip-hop is still seen as an American thing in Namibia[…]That’s my problem.”)
Musicians also noted that social norms can hold them back from expressing themselves freely in some ways. They observed a tendency among Namibians to be critical of anything that stands out, from dress to behavior to messages (“Namibians are quite judgmental, especially towards the LGBT community, and just the artistic community in general”). As a result, many artists feel a pressure to fit in (“a lot of musicians are safe, they just do what everyone’s doing. It’s like copy-paste almost”) and avoid controversy (“have always been afraid to say anything controversial in our music, because we are so afraid of what people might think of us.”).
Musicians also observed that audiences themselves can be wary of standing out. They suggested different cultural reasons for this, including Namibia’s small population, which can make some feel like they’re always being watched (“I don’t think so, in a weird way[…]That’s my opinion on it, at least”), and the violence of the liberation struggle, which is still fresh in many Namibians’ minds (“We are very careful about what we say and how we say it, because whatever happens, we don’t want to go back to the war[…]a bit of self-censorship that is there. But in a way, we get things done”). After apartheid, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission helped many South Africans to put it behind them. However, Namibians never got that platform, and some feel that a valuable opportunity for healing was lost (“Namibia has not gotten that. … We still have the shackles on our feet and our hands. We cannot express ourselves with comfort.”).
Undervaluing Local Artists
One issue raised by a number of participants is a tendency among Namibians to undervalue their own musicians. Part of the problem is a preference for South African music and musicians. This preference influences event organizers and venue owners, who often choose to bring in South African or other musicians to perform at local venues and festivals, rather than working with local musicians. When Namibian musicians don’t get access to these platforms, Namibian audiences receive less exposure to their own music, leading to a lack of belief in the skills of Namibian musicians and composers.
This ultimately results in a tendency to see music, and by extension local musicians, as entertainment (“They appreciate the entertainment part of the music … the majority just wants to have a good time,” “People see it as entertainment, I don’t know if they really appreciate music as an art form”). Some Namibian choir directors choose to perform South African repertoire (“A big problem we have is the South African influence. They are just simply refusing to build their own identity, to be authentic,” “A lack of originality, authenticity. The Namibian music industry, the commercial part, has been taken over by South African identity, South African music—and choral music”), while local singers and bands often perform covers (Participant 24 quote). Although some have achieved success this way, many feel that they are unable to express themselves freely (“I definitely feel they support the artists more than they even support the music … they probably don’t even know their songs, [so] they’re just singing covers at a bar,” “People who are at the shows, I say yes, they do value it, but in terms of whether they value our local musicians, it’s a very different thing[…]I start losing my own identity as an artist,” I didn’t sign up to be an artist to play birthday parties and weddings. I’m appreciative of them, but that was not my goal, to start from the beginning.”).
Musicians protested that local music should be seen as a valuable resource (“what is happening on the ground is that the government does not value their own artists, their own creatives.”) They pointed out that the success of the Namibian music industry can help boost the Namibian economy (“if you are not able to see that Namibian music can contribute to the GDP, then you are doing the artists a disservice”). With better support and more platforms, local musicians can gain exposure and express themselves more freely (“when you do play local music, a lot of people do identify with the music,” “The public would want to support these [local] events, but where are these events happening?). However, the government’s failure to invest in local music sends the message that neither their economic nor cultural value is important (“telling them that even with their art, they are barely contributing, so it doesn’t matter. Their opinion and music, nothing matters”).
Artists’ Lack of Training in Business and Production
Namibian musicians face the reality that success in the modern music industry requires either managing social media, booking performances, administrative tasks, and other responsibilities on their own, or working with producers and publicists (“We now need a team of people to help grow us bigger than what we are at the moment.”). NASCAM’s inability to effectively administer musicians’ IP rights can force them to manage royalties on their own (“every musician is, by virtue of themselves, their own legal person.”). Many musicians do not understand how to promote themselves (“Music Meets Entrepreneurship was a crucial initiative[…]it’s that they don’t know how to put it out there”) or negotiate deals with producers (“Artists are not educated[…]and that’s how they get trapped.”). However, many musicians are reluctant to work with industry professionals out of a fear that they will be taken advantage of (“Publishing companies[…]and the lack of publicists”).
Recognizing that this lack of training and education holds local musicians back, the National Arts Council of Namibia (NACN) and the NTN, along with cultural institutions like the FNCC and the Goethe-Institut, have introduced initiatives designed to help artists develop these skills, including the FNCC’s “Music Meets Entrepreneurship” project and the Goethe-Institut’s “Steps to a Professional Music Career” workshop, as well as regular workshops at the NTN for musicians and other creatives. These initiatives can help musicians develop the skills not only to create good music, but to market it effectively (“Music Meets Entrepreneurship was a crucial initiative[…]it’s that they don’t know how to put it out there”). However, administrators working at these institutions expressed frustration with musicians who are not prepared to work with them, indicating that getting local musicians to a basic level where they are able to present their work in an EPK (Electronic Press Kit), for example, may require work outside the scope of what these institutions can provide.