Freedom of expression not freedom from responsibility
THOMAS NKHOMA | Monday January 12, 2026 06:00
As South Africans wound down the year in December, an uncomfortable but revealing pattern emerged from their cities. A young man was caught on a cellphone camera snatching a phone from a young woman before darting into a getaway car.
In another incident, a group of unruly individuals were filmed assaulting a security guard whose only “crime” was asking them to move a poorly parked vehicle. These were not isolated events. Phone snatching, petty violence and everyday lawlessness have increasingly become part of urban life in South Africa.
Yet, what followed was perhaps more instructive than the crimes themselves. Instead of retreating into helplessness or waiting passively for overstretched law enforcement agencies, ordinary South Africans pushed back.
Social media platforms were mobilised as tools of exposure, identification and accountability. Faces were shared, timelines reconstructed, vehicle registration numbers analysed, and before long, arrests followed.
What many now casually refer to as “social media detectives” is, in essence, community policing meeting citizen journalism in the digital age.
Such a phenomenon is not accidental nor is it uniquely South African. It is rooted in the very origins of citizen journalism itself. When citizen journalism gained global traction, it did so not as a pastime or a weapon for insult but as a response to a crisis.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, citizens armed with mobile phones documented devastation long before mainstream media crews could arrive and long before government authorities could respond. Cellphones became lifelines. Images and videos were not about ego or virality. They were about survival, truth and urgency. They amplified voices that would otherwise have been lost beneath the rubble.
Fast forward nearly two decades, and we now have to ask uncomfortable questions about how far we have drifted from that original purpose.
Contrast this with what played out in Botswana during the same festive period. As December settled in, much of the mainstream media, particularly the private press, understandably slowed down for the holidays.
What remained was largely routine reporting, stripped of the depth and investigative rigour we have come to expect at other times of the year. Nonetheless, while newsrooms took a breather, social media platforms did not. Unfortunately, what filled that vacuum was not citizen-led accountability or constructive national dialogue but a barrage of political infighting, personal attacks, expletives and unfiltered anger.
It was sobering and frankly disturbing to observe how citizen journalism in Botswana appears to have taken a wrong turn. Instead of serving as an extension of the public interest, social media became a theatre for insult, misinformation and disinformation. At its worst, malinformation - content that may be factually correct but deliberately shared to cause harm - found fertile ground.
Posts became deeply personal, crossing ethical boundaries, eroding dignity and poisoning the very idea of public discourse. This raises a fundamental question: when did citizen journalism stop being about citizens and start becoming about chaos?
Citizen journalism was never meant to replace professionalism, ethics or verification. It was meant to complement them. It was meant to fill gaps, not create new wounds. Philosophically, it rests on the idea that an informed citizenry is essential to democracy and that truth does not belong exclusively to institutions. Consequently, truth, even when spoken by citizens, still demands responsibility. Botswana, perhaps more than many countries in the region, understands the value of credible mainstream media. For decades, our newspapers, radio and television platforms have played a central role in exposing corruption, maladministration and abuse of power.
Investigative reporting has shone a light on questionable public procurement processes, land allocation irregularities, misuse of public funds and governance failures in parastatals. These stories were not built on rumours or rage. They were built on documents, sources, verification and courage.
It is no exaggeration to say that some of the most consequential accountability moments in our country did not begin in courtrooms but in newsrooms. Mainstream media has repeatedly forced uncomfortable national conversations, prompted investigations and, in some cases, policy reform. That legacy matters. It is also fragile.
Public trust, once eroded, is difficult to rebuild. When social media is used irresponsibly, it not only discredits individuals it also spills over and weakens confidence in journalism as a whole. The public begins to see all information as suspect, all reporters as biased and all platforms as partisan. This is precisely the environment in which misinformation thrives, and democracy suffers.
South Africa’s current experience offers Botswana an important lesson. Social media, when anchored on purpose, can be a powerful force for good. It can expose crime, protect the vulnerable and assist law enforcement. It can foster solidarity rather than division. However, this requires a shared understanding that freedom of expression is not freedom from responsibility.
As we step into 2026, Batswana have an opportunity to reset. To ask ourselves what kind of national conversation we want to have and what kind of digital citizens we want to be. A healthy national discourse does not mean the absence of disagreement. It means disagreement grounded on facts, respect and a shared commitment to the national good.
Mainstream media, on its part, must continue to uphold the highest professional and ethical standards. Verification, balance and accuracy are not luxuries.
They are obligations. In an era of information disorders, the role of professional journalism as a trusted referee becomes even more critical. The public, too, has a role to play - to support credible journalism, to challenge falsehoods responsibly and to resist the temptation to reward outrage with attention.
Development does not happen in an environment saturated with distrust, insults and half-truths. Nations do not move forward when public spaces, both physical and digital, are polluted with anger. Botswana’s strength has always been its ability to talk to itself, sometimes robustly, sometimes uncomfortably, but usually with a shared sense of restraint and mutual respect.
Citizen journalism can still be a force for nation-building. Social media can still amplify truth rather than noise. Notwithstanding, that will only happen if we consciously restore their original purpose. The choice before us in 2026 is not between silence and chaos. It is between responsible engagement and reckless expression.
The new year offers a clean slate. Let us use it to rebuild trust, elevate discourse and reclaim the power of both citizen and mainstream media for the good of a nation that still believes in going higher together.
*Thomas Thos Nkhoma is MISA-Botswana chairperson