Seeking Fair Maintenance When You Are Not Poor

• Anonymous Submission

My experience of the maintenance system in Namibia is not the one most often told.

I am employed. I earn a decent income. I own my home and my car, and I have a strong social support network. The father of my child is also employed and earns significantly more than I do. He pays maintenance regularly, on time, every month. On the surface, this might sound like a success story.

It is not.

The amount he pays is small relative to both the actual cost of raising our child and his financial capacity. It does not reflect an equal or proportional sharing of responsibility. For that reason, I approached the maintenance court, not because he pays nothing, but because he does not pay fairly.

The Maintenance Act purposefully makes clear that there are no prescribed upper or lower limits to maintenance amounts, allowing the law to respond to the needs of all children, across income levels. 

My position is simple: my child should benefit from the standard of living that both her parents can afford. A contribution that may appear generous in comparison to other households is irrelevant to individual cases.

There is another reality that shapes my insistence on fairness: my daughter has never met her father. By the time she was over a year old, he had made no effort to see her, not because contact has been denied, but because he has chosen not to pursue it. He lives nearby and maintains a relationship with his other minor child. This absence is not something money can fix, but it does heighten my responsibility to ensure that my daughter does not also suffer material disadvantage.

While attending maintenance court, I encountered several deeply entrenched attitudes while chatting in the waiting room. Some men argued that they should not have to pay more because the mother does not allow them access to the child. When I pointed out that the law provides clear mechanisms, under the Child Care and Protection Act, to seek contact, this was met with resistance. Financial responsibility, it seems, is often framed as conditional on emotional access, despite the law treating these as entirely separate issues.

Others suggested that if mothers receive more maintenance, they will simply “spend it on themselves,” citing hair appointments or clothing as evidence. When asked whether they themselves ever visit a barber or buy clothes, the contradiction was obvious. Mothers are not required to live in austerity to prove their devotion. Having a child does not mean forfeiting your financial wellbeing. The law requires proportional contribution.

There is a persistent misconception that maintenance should cover only direct, visible costs like nappies and childcare while ignoring broader expenses. This is incorrect. The act clearly indicates that housing, utilities, food, transport, and the general cost of maintaining a household in which a child lives full-time are core needs and so liable to proportionate splits by both parents. In my case, I was told by the father’s lawyer that I was attempting to have him “pay off my mortgage.” This misrepresents both the law and reality. 

My experience with the maintenance court itself has been sobering. I was told that the amount I was claiming was “very high” because staff had “never seen an order that high” mind you, this statement was made before my child’s expenses or her father’s income were even examined. This kind of commentary is inappropriate and potentially harmful. The legality of a claim is not determined by precedent alone. Such remarks risk discouraging women from pursuing what the law explicitly allows.

Procedural delays have compounded the burden. Over nine months, hearings have been postponed due to staff illness, magistrate availability, and other administrative disruptions, each delay extending the period in which I carry a disproportionate share of the financial responsibility alone.

For those considering a similar path, these are the things that mattered in my experience: obtain legal cover early; understand waiting periods before lodging claims; read the Maintenance Act closely, it is a remarkably protective and well-crafted piece of legislation; and prepare for a long process. Even with legal representation, remain engaged. Review financial disclosures yourself. Be informed. Be persistent.

Seeking fair maintenance is not greed. It is not punishment. It is not hostility. It is the lawful pursuit of shared responsibility, for the benefit of the child, not the comfort of adults.

Editor’s Note: This article reflects one woman’s lived experience of the maintenance system in Namibia. It does not constitute legal advice. Details have been anonymised to protect the author and her child.