By Trophy Shapange
In Namibia, and indeed across much of Africa, supporting your parents and siblings financially is not just a gesture of generosity, it is often a cultural and moral obligation. The spirit of Ubuntu, “I am because we are”, runs deep and it manifests in how we care for one another, particularly within families.
Whether it is helping a younger sibling with school fees, covering your parents’ medical expenses, contributing to the upkeep of the family home, or topping up airtime for your cousin who only calls when he needs data, it is all part of the package. The minute you land your first job, it is as if a sangoma somewhere performed a ceremony announcing your success to the entire bloodline.
Suddenly, your name mysteriously appears on WhatsApp groups you did not even know existed. Even that uncle who disappeared into thin air the moment you finished primary school and mentioned you were heading to secondary school suddenly resurfaces with a smile.
There is a modern term that often describes this noble family obligation: “black tax.”
It refers to the financial support that black professionals, particularly those who are the first to achieve formal employment or success, are expected to give to their
families. Basically, once you “make it,” everyone else makes it… onto your budget.
In many circles, the term carries a negative connotation, as if it is some kind of punishment for succeeding, like life is saying, “Congrats on the job! Here is your starter pack: payslip, pressure, and permanent debit orders to people who call you ‘my child’ when asking for money.”
But let me be clear: I do not personally subscribe to the view that black tax is a bad thing. In fact, I am who I am today because of it. I am a product of a family that valued collective progress. The sacrifices made by those before me and the sense of responsibility instilled in me are not burdens, they are blessings. In fact, my father use to emphasize the importance of helping others so they can learn to take care of themselves.
He would say that once a person becomes successful, they no longer add pressure on anyone else. In fact, when they succeed, they move from asking for help to being the ones who offer it, sometimes even with a little change to spare.
That said, balance is critical. Paying black tax is okay, as long as you do not forget the bills at your own house need paying too. And this is the part many of us are struggling with these days.
Let us face it: many of us are sandwiched between two worlds. On the one hand, we are trying to build a future for ourselves and for our own children and households, investing in education, saving for emergencies, paying off bonds, and preparing for retirement. On the other, we are expected to uplift those who raised us and those who walked the journey with us.
In some families, success is taxed emotionally and financially. Promotions come with whispered expectations. Salary increases are followed by new requests. And when you say, “I cannot right now,” you are labelled as selfish or stingy. What starts off as heartfelt gratitude can easily become unsustainable if not managed well. Some people fall into debt trying to please everyone.
Others lose the trust of their spouses when too much is given away without alignment at home. In worst-case scenarios, people neglect their own children’s future trying to uphold traditions that were never meant to break them.
There is nothing noble about draining yourself to keep everyone else afloat. You cannot empower others if your own foundation is crumbling. It is why I always encourage young professionals to set boundaries, not from a place of selfishness, but from a place of sustainability.
Start by establishing a family support budget. Decide how much you can give each month without compromising your core financial obligations. Communicate this respectfully to your family. Most importantly, do not be afraid to say “no” when you must. Those who truly love and respect you will come to understand.
Setting boundaries is not a betrayal of your culture. It is an act of maturity and foresight. It ensures that you can continue to help, not just today, but years down the line.
If there is one lesson I have learned over the years, engraved in my DNA by my father, it is that the greatest gift you can give someone is not money, but the ability to stand on their own. I am a living product of that philosophy. When my father encouraged us to become independent, he planted a seed of self-reliance. He believed that if each of us could stand, we could help others rise too.
That is the kind of empowerment we should aim for. So instead of endless remittances, think about paying for a sibling’s vocational training. Instead of covering someone’s rent for years, consider supporting a small business idea that can become self-sustaining. Help others build their capacity to earn, and in doing so, you reduce the long-term pressure on yourself and create a ripple effect of success.
However, your first responsibility is to your own household. If your children lack because you are constantly sending money away, then something is off balance. If your partner feels sidelined or resentful about the financial help you offer to others, that tension will eventually strain your relationship.
This does not mean you must choose between your family and your household. It means you must prioritise wisely. Make sure your home is secure before extending your hand. Secure your children’s education, your emergency fund, your investments, and your retirement plan. After that, give with joy and without guilt.
I may seem to be going against the grain by supporting black tax, but I know very well that the majority of young professionals often give black tax a bad rap. They paint it as an unfair burden, a financial leash holding back those who have worked hard to break generational cycles of poverty. Yes, it can be overwhelming, especially when it feels like your paycheck has more dependents than a government grant.
But perhaps it is time we looked at it differently. Instead of seeing black tax as a punishment for success, we should start viewing it as a powerful tool for empowerment, a bridge between generations. It is an opportunity to lift others as we climb. After all, there is no greater legacy than helping your family stand tall beside you, not behind you.
Many of us unknowingly keep our families trapped in cycles of dependency because it feels easier to give than to teach or to wait. But true empowerment is transformational. When you help someone build their own capacity to earn, they not only regain their dignity, but they may one day become supporters themselves, easing your burden and expanding the circle of prosperity.
I believe we can redefine the idea of black tax, not as a financial burden, but as an opportunity for collective empowerment. We must also educate ourselves and our families about financial literacy. Budgeting, saving, investing, and planning for the future must become part of our shared language, not just among professionals, but at all levels of our communities.
However, supporting your parents and siblings is not something we should be ashamed of. It is a reflection of Ubuntu, a reminder that we rise by lifting others. But even Ubuntu requires wisdom. The village cannot thrive if the well is dry. So support your family, yes.
Honour your parents, absolutely. Invest in your siblings’ growth, if you can. But do not neglect the very people who depend on you daily, your partner, your children, your own future self.
Let us build a generation that knows when to say “yes,” and when to smile and say, “sorry, my wallet just ran away for a breather.” But more importantly, a generation that lifts others up, empowers like everyday superheroes, and understands that black tax is not a burden, it is a bridge.
A bridge to dignity, to opportunity, to generational progress. Just remember charity starts with yourself, because you cannot pour from an empty cup, but once you are full, share that overflow. That is how we rise together.
*Trophy Shapange is the Managing Director of Lebela Fund Managers. He writes on leadership, financial responsibility, and generational progress in Namibia.
Opinion expressed in this piece is of the writer and not of his employer.
