Stories from the Margins

In the heart of Botswana, the San people, also known as Basarwa or Bakgalagadi, have lived in harmony with nature for thousands of years. They mastered survival, passing down knowledge and skills through generations. Their traditions, from hunting techniques to storytelling, are a vital part of their identity and way of life (Read more). However, things aren’t as they once were…?

Botswana has a complex history with the San people, and the impacts of this past are still felt today. Traditionally the San were nomadic hunter-gatherers, however their way of life was disrupted by colonial and post-colonial efforts to modernise and control them (BBC). Forced evictions from their ancestral lands in the late 20th century pushed them into resettlement camps, stripping them of their traditional lifestyle and exposing them to unemployment, alcoholism, and social discrimination? (Minority Rights Group).?

We have so much to learn and celebrate from the San, their wisdom and resilience offer invaluable insights into the importance of community. In light of this, today's edition of "Stories from the Margins" is dedicated to the International Day of the World’s Indigenous People, commemorated yesterday. We will be sharing the often overlooked stories of the San community in Botswana.

Recently, we arrived in a settlement where on one side of the road were developed houses and structures, and on the other there were mud huts and plastic bag shacks. On a Friday morning, children were loitering around houses as opposed to attending school. While basic services like healthcare and education were theoretically accessible, they were either unattainable or unused due to deep-seated discrimination and neglect. This scenario isn’t unique to this settlement but rather commonplace for areas where the San often live marginalised.?

We were invited to a village where we met the local leadership to discuss their community-run preschool, its challenges, and how Learn To Play could support them in their efforts to provide early childhood development. Our discussions revealed a pressing issue, despite their school fees of just 500 Pula ($35) per month, which allowed them to sustain the school, many of the families still could not afford to send their children to preschool. This discussion is what led to our invitation to visit the San settlement described earlier.?

Here, I witnessed severe poverty but more devastating, was the absence of hope. Our work at LTP has exposed us to many impoverished communities, such as refugees, who despite their circumstances still have hope and ambition. However, the San community seemed trapped in a cycle where generations of marginalisation had robbed them of the ability to imagine a better future.?

The extent of child neglect, substance abuse, and alcoholism was devastating. One woman in particular was brought forward, clearly beaten and abused. She stood before us, forced to speak. When asked about her children, she replied, “I think I have 12 children,” but she couldn’t be sure. She had no idea how old she herself was, but didn’t look any older than me.?

In the face of such overwhelming, complex, societal challenges like this, the scale of the issues can feel paralysing. It's easy to think, "these problems are way too big and messy for Learn To Play. And it’s almost instinctive to fall back into our primitive, “fight, flight or freeze” modes of behaviour when we feel threatened. But there is another option: “figure it out!” Rather than feeling overwhelmed, we try to focus on the steps we are able to take. By training local women as early childhood educators, we uplift them and create new income opportunities for them and their families. We hope to allow opportunities for their rich traditions, stories and games to live on. By establishing playgroups, we foster a community culture that values education. “One person can spark hope, but a community can turn hope into progress,” (Emily Ehlers).?

Our visit to the San community is a reminder of the disparities that still exist within our nation. By sharing stories like these, we hope to challenge perceptions and advocate for more inclusive policies and support systems within Botswana. The despair we saw was overwhelming, but it also strengthened our resolve. At Learn To Play, we believe in the power of small, meaningful actions and despite the challenges, we are dedicated to restoring hope through the power of mindful play.?

So, what can you do with this information? Stand with us, support these communities, and help us build a brighter future for Botswana. Your involvement, whether through donations or raising awareness, can spark the change needed to turn hope into progress.