Geingob, the measure of a man

President Hage Geingob will be sorely missed, but certainly not for the prosperity he gleefully promised the Namibian people. As it is said, "the easiest man to be forgiven is a dead man."

Mark Antony, on the other hand, argues that “the good that men do is often interred with their bones.”

Geingob, who many affectionately called 'Omes, Hagelolo', connected with people genuinely, earning their trust and respect and will forever be carved into the hearts of Namibians as ‘the people's president’.

He was undoubtedly a champion for a free press and access to information, but he was also extremely condescending towards the media. As a result, I mentally prepared myself for a few years before I dared to ask him a question, because he would usually sweep the floor with journalists.

But, let me not lie, we had easy access to him and if it were not for the shielding by press secretary Dr Alfredo Hengari, we would have had unhindered access to Geingob, who wore his heart on his sleeve. At times, when we arrived at events before guests and found him waiting in the chamber, we could chit-chat with him and even put him on the spot, and that is my best memory of him. This was a privilege that no other journalist in this world can boast of.

I recall once, when an international guest visited, they walked off to tête-à-tête in the chamber after a photo opportunity, and I shouted: “Mister President, I have a question.” He turned around and said: “Please wait so the guests can leave before we, as a family, discuss things of home.”

Mixed legacy

As a journalist, my memory of Geingob is a mixed bag. I will cherish his huge success as the country’s first prime minister and his commitment to press freedom, which allowed us to have several field days, but as president, he was underwhelming.

In 2015, Geingob was overwhelmingly elected with 87% of the votes, but in 2019, this shrank to a sorry 56%. This decline tells the story of how the masses felt about his leadership.

He tiptoed around corruption, downplaying it and insisting that it was not systemic, despite several studies and reports pointing to the contrary. Geingob failed to decisively deal with non-performing officials. Instead, he “reshuffled his problems," as The Namibian once wrote.

He had a rocky relationship with the Nama and Ovaherero communities with regards to negotiations for genocide reparations.

Six years ago, he declared informal settlements a humanitarian crisis that he wanted gone in five years. Now he is gone and the shacks are the last man standing.

Instead of disappearing from the face of Namibia, shacks continue to sprawl across Windhoek's hillsides. Then there was the Fishrot bribery scandal and allegations that its proceeds were used to fund his re-election campaign in 2019.

Subsequent media reports allege that many fishermen committed suicide due to the loss of their jobs as fishing quotas were diverted from their employers to benefit the political elite. Geingob's dismissive attitude towards inquiries about Swapo’s Lubango dungeons further complicates his legacy.

Another nail in the coffin of his legacy was when he said that apartheid South Africa's actions were "worse" than the genocide committed by Germany against the Nama and Ovaherero people.

The real tragedy about Geingob's passing is that a man who came with so much promise to turn around this country's fortunes will largely be remembered for things that don’t matter.

And as Mark Antony said, Geingob's great unfulfilled promises will indeed be interred with his bones.

• Jemima Beukes is a political journalist at Namibian Sun. These are her personal views.