Moeng College: The Farming Institution That Has Lost Its Lustre

| Monday August 3, 2009 00:00

The development of education was primarily left in the hands of missionaries and private investors.  The 'neglect' of education by the colonial government resulted in situations where there were limited or no opportunities for learning in Botswana. Secondary school education was the hardest hit by this neglect.  

Realising that Botswana faced the prospect of a bleak future, it fell on the shoulders of luminaries like Tshekedi Khama, the then regent of Bangwato, to embark on self-help projects. Khama rose to the occasion to mobilise his morafe to build Moeng College as a self-supporting institution. People donated all they could afford - cattle, sheep and goats, farm produce, cash and their labour, among other things.

To all intents and purposes, Moeng College, or MOCOL as one of its sobriquet goes, as envisioned by its founders, was to exist and sustain itself on the basis of the principle of self-reliance. The school's spirit of self-reliance had been partly influenced by its geographical location. The college like an ivory tower is isolated from villages and major centres. For the better part of its existence, the college seemed to have lived up to the expectations of its founders.

However, with the passage of time, Moeng College could not escape the changes that gripped post independence Botswana. Among these changes was the erosion of the spirit of self-reliance, giving way to a dependency syndrome, which has become a characteristic feature of modern Botswana. Today, Moeng College has been reduced to an ordinary school having lost its uniqueness.

Recently President Ian Khama spoke of the prospect of turning schools into a ready market for small-scale farmers. True enough, students, especially those who are somewhat insulated from the society by virtue of their accommodation in boarding schools, yearn for letlhafula. It is therefore quite thoughtful of President Khama to consider bringing letlhafula to schools.

But as for Moeng College of our time, it did not have to take the intervention of the highest office in the land for students to enjoy 'delicacies' like watermelons, fresh maize and other fresh fruits and vegetables. On the other hand, we also enjoyed dairy products coming from a professionally managed farm right from within Moeng College boundaries.

Anchored on the spirit of self-reliance, Moeng College combined academic learning with production. Taking advantage of its vast virgin land, Moeng College practised animal husbandry (rearing of goats and cattle) and tilled the land for crop production. No child looked beyond the frontiers of the school for letlhafula. While some schools had to scout (sometimes without much success) for meat supplies on the open market, Moeng College proudly tapped on its own local resources. The school possessed a sizeable number of cattle, which provided a reliable supply of meat and dairy products. The school also had its own abattoir, which readily provided meat to the school. For the supply of vegetables and fruits the school relied on its own orchard. A fully-fledged farm manager manned the orchard, livestock sector that included the dairy facility and the butchery where he (farm manager) employed his expertise in advising the school management on pertinent issues.

I (Ryder) remember vividly at Moeng College when I was reunited with the Mosigi brothers of Orapeleng, Moses and Boipuso (now deceased) after a long break. The latter two Mosigi brothers only joined me in the second year whilst the eldest Orapeleng was ahead of us. The late Boipuso at the same time with Hosia Tshwarelo (1983) - the co-author of this article - and Moses arrived in 1984.

My regular meeting place with the Mosigi brothers was Mokgacha-wa-dinama- a cattlepost outside Maunatlala village in the Tswapong North constituency. Our meeting points were in the thickets of the cattlepost, herding cattle.

So, the Moeng College environment rekindled our fond memories of yore in the Mokgacha-wa-dinama thickets. They provided us at least with something to talk about proudly because we had spent almost all our pre-school years literally chasing cattle. There was a dam in the thickets just after the girls' hostels where we used to watch bulls fight after taking our swimming lessons from those who were good at it. This dam was one of the many reliable sources of water around Moeng.

Although I was born and brought up in Palapye, I can't remember a month I ever spent in Palapye without going to the cattlepost. By the way, even the name my mother had originally christened me - Radikonyana - tells a story that I was born and raised at the cattlepost. In fact, I was born during the year when the family had many lambs. So, Moeng College of years of yonder was a second home away from home.

In many respects Moeng College distinguished itself from other schools. School governance was never the monopoly of school administrators. It was a shared responsibility among school authorities, teachers and students. The school had a strong prefecture system, which commanded the respect of the entire school ranging from the cook to the school head.

The school had nurtured the culture of mutual respect. For instance, a mere school head boy commanded the respect that in a school is usually the preserve of a headmaster.

Head boys in Moeng college were entitled to royal treatment. One has in mind the likes of Gosego Tshukudu - affectionately known as 'Sea' - who was hero-worshipped by staff and students.  Moeng School authorities were ahead of their time. There was this rare culture of students' empowerment, which the authorities nurtured. The prefect system was not a 'paper tiger', but real power was devolved to the prefects.

The administration and teachers had very little to do in terms of instilling discipline as many cases of discipline were ably disposed of by the prefects.

Supervision of student meals, which today is the responsibility of teachers, was purely a student affair. Meals under the supervision of prefects were taken in an orderly environment free from any scramble. The prefects insisted on good eating etiquette and students obliged.

I (Hosia) recall many instances where our assistant head boy, Tshoganetso Sepako, when dispensing justice, would say 'ya mosimane ke e nkgwe.' 

The head boy was capable of administering corporal punishment and the culprit obliged without any qualms. Matters amicably resolved at student level were usually sealed and forgotten with no prospect of ever reaching the ears of the school's top brass. This arrangement gave the culprit an opportunity to turn over a new leaf and avoid landing into the hands of the school head. The spirit of self-reliance upon which the school was founded permeated all facets of life in Moeng College.

The one area where Moeng College set itself apart from the crowd was discipline. Moeng College students had their priorities right. The pursuit of academic excellence was a top priority, which could not be traded for anything. In fact academic excellence was the glue that kept the school together. For the better part of its history, Moeng College enjoyed relative calm. Strikes and student disturbances were alien to the school.

Some naughty students spent their valuable time in the thickets of Moeng College mainly to watch bulls fighting. This provided some form of entertainment mostly to those who grew up exposed to it.

I (Ryder) can't remember spending my time watching television at Moeng College during the three years that I was there before I moved to Shashe River Secondary School with the likes of Mothusi Prigar Lebang, Mmabontle Mogotsi (maiden surname), Ookeditse Saboi Moakapa (maiden) and Elizabeth Lefhetogile.

Bullsfight were like the modern Wrestling match, which attracts millions of people across the globe who remain glued to their television sets.

The echo of a mooing cow searching for its calf in the valley of Moeng College was literally a permanent feature at my Alma Mater. Cattle also competed for attention with the many kudus some of which used to be killed and the meat served to students in the school's dining hall. But, for those who had the opportunity to attend their secondary education at Moeng College in the early 1980s, they know better and their experience at the school cannot be traded for anything.

Perhaps, to show that they had bonded with one bull at Moeng, which was christened 'Dustbin' for its tendency to feed from the leftovers in the rubbish bins outside the dining hall, some students chose to 'mourn' the death of the bull once it was slaughtered and its meat served as part of lunch.

When it was announced that 'Dustbin' had been slaughtered, instead of celebrating its demise some students 'protested' by leaving its meat on their plates as a way of 'mourning' its death. At times, words alone are insufficient to describe the mood, the excitement and appreciation of living on a big farm like Moeng College, which some students used to refer to as Pachanga, the rural village in Bediako Asare's novel, Rebel.

The revival of the spirit of self-reliance at Moeng College would definitely take the school back to where it belongs, in line with its original vision propagated by Tshekedi Khama.