When I first came to Botswana, I used to think the front yards, cleared of all plants and swept to bare ground, were ugly and wondered why people didn’t take care to plant a nice garden. Coming from a world of green lawns, I didn’t understand what my eyes saw. I learned over time that a cleared yard kept the danger of snakes away. A swept yard with beautiful swirl patterns on its surface meant that you were a conscientious home-owner. Now, I look at a clean, well-swept yard and see beauty and pride in a house well kept. It’s the same yard I see, but what I understand is entirely different. What we see is not always about our eyes and the images that they collect of the world around us, it’s often more about our perceptions and our histories. This became crystal clear the other day when I was out on my morning walk with my two little dogs.
Batswana1, unlike many Africans from around the continent, are hard to find in the diaspora. They go out to study, but come back home. Even travelling outside of Botswana’s borders is not something most Batswana find enjoyment in. But within our borders, we are a people forever on the move.
