This story by Arlana Shikongo, which The Namibian originally published on 6 January 2023, is part of a series produced with support from the Arcus Foundation and the National Endowment for Democracy. It emerged from Taboom Media’s October 2022 journalism training workshop in South Africa.

WINDHOEK, Namibia — When Daniel Digashu met Johann Potgieter in 2010, their romance spun like any other. Little did they know their quest for matrimony and a family would be marred by litigation and discrimination.

In 2015, Digashu, a South African national, and Potgieter, who is Namibian got married in South Africa – the only country in Africa where same-sex marriage is legal. In 2017, with ambitions to start their life together, the couple moved to Namibia.

“There were a few reasons [for the move], one of them being to sort of introduce our child to his [Potgieter’s] family, and to try and build some sort of relationship with them,” Digashu says. Digashu and Potgieter mapped out plans to live on a farm and run a tourism company.

“The plan was that I would step back from the IT company I was working at and help run our own company. That’s when the chaos started – when I applied for a work permit,” Digashu says.

‘LIVING LIKE A PRISONER’

Five years later, Digashu still cannot work in Namibia. He describes this experience as psychologically, emotionally, and financially draining.

“I feel like my life just stopped for so many years . . ,” he says. Digashu has been fighting the Namibian government to be granted a work permit since 2017.

This, by virtue, has been a battle for the recognition of his marriage to Potgieter.

Digashu says he feels like a prisoner.

“I may not do this, I may not do that. I don’t actually know what I am free to do.

“I feel like I’m treated not even like an animal. I’m just treated like absolute trash by the system and by the laws. It hurts me to even speak about it,” he says.

He recounts emotional turmoil and psychological breaking points.

“I’ve done a lot of work to control that but sometimes it just hits me. I would wake up in a good mood and then it just literally gushes down on me, no warning, no trigger.

“It just happens and then I’m just out for a couple of days, sometimes weeks,” Digashu says.

Although he says he is doing better now mentally, he and his family are still carrying the burden of living life in limbo with no clear direction.

‘WHAT ABOUT MY FAMILY?’

The couple’s son, who was seven years old when the family relocated to Namibia is now 14.

The fathers have not shied away from sharing their tenuous situationVwith him and involving him in their decision-making.

Digashu says their son’s resilience through this journey offers something of a silver lining at the end of what has proven to be a long, winding tunnel of uncertainty.

“He didn’t understand the controversy around it . . . If one of his friends would ask, ‘oh, you’ve got two dads?’ and they found it weird, it bothered him.

“He’s so proud of himself and so proud of his family and where he comes from,” Digashu says.

Yet he worries about the effect their circumstances would have on him.

“I hope we didn’t steal too much of his childhood [or] that he felt like he had to grow up quickly to understand things,” Digashu says.

The boy, who is being homeschooled found himself having to defend his family when he attended school, often more against adults than his peers.

“His whole school career here has just been questions and people being weird. They just didn’t understand. The teachers became a problem and then the kids, and he was just unhappy,” Digashu says.

“A kid shouldn’t have to make people understand. That’s not a kid’s job.”

Fortunately, they have had no difficulty getting their son into schools, and that, Digashu says, is positive.

THE CHAOS

The Legal Assistance Centre (LAC) states that a foreign spouse married to a Namibian citizen has domicile if they are lawfully in Namibia (through a good-faith marriage to their Namibian spouse), is physically living in the country, and intends to make Namibia their home.

The centre explains that domicile is acquired automatically, but that a foreign national domiciled in Namibia through marriage to a Namibian could consider applying for a certificate of identification, a temporary or permanent residence permit, or a work permit in order to document their status in the country.

However, without legal recognition of their union in Namibia, same-sex couples are denied access to these avenues.

“If you look at a woman who’s South African and her husband is Namibian, they just come in and by default they get their rights,”

Digashu says. “Why can’t it be the same for me?” That’s the main reason they took the matter to court, he says.

“To say you don’t treat people like this. Not when they didn’t do anything to you. We felt we needed to fight, and we felt now is the time,” Digashu says.

On 20 January 2022, the High Court of Namibia gave judgement in the consolidated cases of ‘Digashu versus the Government of the Republic of Namibia’, and ‘Seiler-Lilles versus the Government of the Republic of Namibia’.

The High Court dismissed their applications on the basis that it was bound to follow an earlier Supreme Court decision of 2001, but made important findings and positionings for the rights of same-sex couples in Namibia and its constitution.

JUDGEMENT

In its judgement, the High Court held that “homosexual relationships are without doubt, globally recognised, and increasingly more countries have changed their laws to recognise one’s right not to be discriminated against on the basis of one’s sexual orientation. It is time to recognise that homosexuality is part and parcel of the fabric of our society and that persons – human beings – in homosexual relationships are worthy of being afforded the same rights as other citizens”.

The joint case was appealed to the Supreme Court of Namibia, and both couples are currently awaiting trial dates.

Digashu says while his family’s journey has been exhausting, they will continue to fight against public and systemic opposition.

“I know I’ve lost so many years of my life, but I’ve gained so much insight into myself as well. I would do it again. I would go to the court again tomorrow,” he says.

For now, Digashu remains in waiting as the couples prepare to take their case to the Supreme Court.

In the meantime, he has resumed his studies and his family continues to live a quiet life at Otjiwarongo, where his spouse works.