Namibia’s green hydrogen dream now faces its greatest test — the departure of James Mnyupe, the man who became its brain, heart, and global face.
When he leaves, it will expose what many insiders have quietly feared: that the project has always depended more on individuals than institutions.
Under former President Hage Geingob, green hydrogen was not just a government programme; it was a personal mission.
Geingob championed it as the signature of his presidency, often speaking about it with warmth, conviction, and optimism. He hugged the project — literally and politically.
By appointing Mnyupe as both his economic adviser and the country’s first Green Hydrogen Commissioner, Geingob ensured the initiative had energy, coherence, and credibility.
Mnyupe travelled widely, negotiated tirelessly, and explained complex ideas with clarity.
Together, the two men gave the world confidence that Namibia could build a clean-energy industry from desert sun and Atlantic wind.
That unity of purpose is now gone. Since Geingob’s passing, the project has drifted into bureaucratic quiet. The current administration talks about hydrogen but does not live it.
There is little of the same enthusiasm, understanding, or technical drive that once came from the State House. No senior leader has stepped forward with Mnyupe’s fluency in policy, finance, and global climate diplomacy.
The “Namibia” that once spoke with confidence at world energy summits has gone silent, replaced by cautious, fragmented voices.
It is also fair to say that the current leadership bench has not yet demonstrated the depth of technical know-how or project-management muscle that Geingob and Mnyupe brought as a duo. That does not mean the administration opposes hydrogen; instead, it has not owned it.
Without Mnyupe’s coordination and Geingob’s protection, the programme risks losing its national anchor. Under Geingob, hydrogen had the state’s full weight behind it. Every ministry, agency, and partner knew who to call and what the president wanted.
Today, that clear line of authority has faded. What remains are private developers — like Hyphen, Cleanergy, and Daures — pursuing their own projects, but without the same level of state direction or cohesion. The government, once an active partner, now stands more on the sidelines than in the arena.
This is dangerous for a young industry that still needs nurturing. Hydrogen is complex; it requires skills in engineering, finance, regulation, and diplomacy, areas in which Namibia is still developing.
Mnyupe filled that gap — not only as a project manager but as a teacher to the system. With him gone, and with no one of similar depth waiting in line, the state risks losing both knowledge and momentum.
It would also be dishonest to ignore the quieter social undercurrent that surrounded Mnyupe.
Namibians are not a xenophobic people, but in his case, there was a silent, subtle aversion — a sense that the most visible face of Namibia’s future was somehow “not from here.”
It was never loud, never public, but it whispered through corridors and meetings.
Some questioned his loyalty, others his authority to speak for the nation. Yet it was Mnyupe who stood on the world’s stages selling Namibia’s vision, while many who criticised him could not explain the basics of hydrogen chemistry or project finance.
That quiet bias diminished the recognition he deserved, and now, with him gone, the irony is painful — the very nation that hesitated to own him fully will now struggle to replace him.
Individual projects might continue, especially those backed by foreign investors. But the vision of a coordinated national hydrogen economy — one that Geingob and Mnyupe sold to the world as “Namibia’s gift to the planet” — could die a quiet death.
The world will not wait while Namibia reorganises itself. Investors will move to countries that speak with confidence, not hesitation.
When Hage Geingob was alive, Namibia’s hydrogen future felt alive too — guided by belief, energy, and purpose.
With Mnyupe stepping away, that light is flickering.
Unless new leaders step up with the same curiosity, technical understanding, and public courage, the country’s once-celebrated hydrogen dream could fade into another unfinished chapter of good intentions and lost opportunities.
