Meteor showers. Really, really intense meteor showers.
Suppose that several plumes of small rocks are orbiting the same star as this planet in highly eccentric orbits, containing an extremely large number of such rocks, collectively the mass of a planet or more broken into tiny bits.
Each time the habitable planet's orbit intersects the orbits of one of these plumes, the rocks light up the entire night sky like the finale of a fireworks show (and would light up the day sky too if the star weren't so bright), unlike the relatively tame meteor showers we get on Earth. Anything in the vicinity of the planet above the upper atmosphere at that time is either perforated by the accompanying dust or destroyed completely by collision with one of the larger pieces.
In between meteor showers, spaceships can come and go safely.
Just be careful not to get caught in one, and forget about parking anything in orbit for any extended period of time.
If the planet's orbit is close to the periastron of the rocks, they'll catch up to it from behind at high speed, less than the difference between the planet's orbital speed and escape velocity from the star, but not necessarily much less. If the planet is near the apastron of the rocks, it will plow through them while they are relatively stationary. At some point in between, the rocks hit the night side of the planet on the way in toward the star and the day side on the way out.
Life may even be a little precarious on this planet, as mixed in with these billions of tiny projectiles that burn up in the atmosphere there are a few rocks large enough to make it to the surface, some large enough to create large craters. The really big ones are few and far enough between, however, that the local biome has always recovered from these meteor strikes, and there's a reasonable opportunity to establish a human colony with the wherewithal to detect and deflect any rock large enough to be a threat to the colony's existence.