Letter to the Class of 2026
Laone Choeunyane | Tuesday January 20, 2026 11:42
On Tuesday morning, I stood at Ben Thema Primary School and watched you arrive, small bodies wrapped in oversized uniforms, some clutching lunch tins tightly, others holding onto their teachers as if the world might shift beneath their feet. It was your first official day of school. For you, it felt ordinary. For the rest of us, it was a quiet checkpoint in time.
This letter is meant for you to find again, perhaps 20 years from now, when the dust of childhood has settled and life has revealed its sharp edges and soft mercies. Consider it a send-off from a generation that walked before you, leaving behind some elemental findings and unfinished work.
You begin your journey in a world of decision and consequence, a world teeming with opportunity, but equally familiar with misfortune. Things for you will not always be as we found them. In fact, much of what once seemed permanent is already shifting.
Botswana, the country welcoming you into formal learning, stands at a crossroads. The diamond industry that carried this nation from a barren dust bowl to a respected regional power, is no longer the unshakeable anchor it once was. Synthetic diamonds are no longer a novelty; they are a serious competitor. Natural diamonds, once a reliable solution to Botswana’s financial aches, are approaching a breaking point. The economy is tired, and certain comforts enjoyed by previous generations are fading.
Yet decline has a strange generosity. In the slowing down of diamonds lies space, space for real economic diversification, space for human investment. For decades, diamonds tethered Botswana safely to shore, but they also kept us from setting sail. Yours may be the first generation to meet a Botswana that truly needs your talent, your innovation, your expression. Hone it quickly. Showcase it until exhaustion. We have never needed you more than we do now.
Being born of this soil is an appointment far above many honours. In a region once heavy with bloodshed and segregationist misery, Botswana stood resilient, united. From improbable beginnings, it became a symbol of peace, stability and democracy in action.
That legacy, however, is no longer immune. Corruption scandals have bruised the country’s reputation. A name that once commanded automatic respect in foreign chambers now faces scrutiny and reclassification. Your task will be difficult but clear: answer betrayal of public trust with honesty, rejection and courage. Refuse to normalise rot. Abhor the reflex to associate with it. Above all, emerge as defenders of justice, truth and Botho, the principle without which none of this survives.
You are also growing into a new global order. Sovereignty is being tested in digital spaces. Economies are shifting online. Health is no longer what we once understood it to be. Citizenship matters in ways previous generations could not have imagined. Movement is restricted. Competition for resources is intensifying. Many eyes are now fixed on what Botswana has.
Still, some things never change.
The knowledge of self will never expire. In this smaller, louder, less forgiving world, you may not have the luxury of not knowing who you are. The self is sacred, your one true asset. Protect it fiercely. Burn bridges that funnel doubt, fear and humourless self-deprecation into your spirit.
You are growing up in the age of African self-realisation, a spectacular and terrifying time. Old forces are re-energising. New pressures are emerging. Learn your languages. Hold onto your values. Prepare yourselves for hard seasons, but do not surrender your humanity in the process.
As I watched you at Ben Thema Primary School, some excited, some terrified, and some just dazed and confused, I was reminded that history does not move in leaps. It arrives quietly, in classrooms, in chalk dust, in the first time a child writes their name.
This is your first checkpoint. There will be many more.
May you meet them bravely.