Botswana’s democratic journey will be judged not only by its peaceful elections or well-crafted policies but by the everyday willingness of its leaders to face the public square, including the sometimes-uncomfortable space of a probing interview. Writes THOMAS THOS NKHOMA*
One of the first lessons drilled into journalism students is that interviews are never casual conversations. They are structured encounters where the journalist represents the public, armed with questions that demand clarity, truth, and accountability. I recall my own time as a journalism student at the Harare Polytechnic’s Mass Communication Department, where we underwent rigorous training in interviewing techniques. We were taught not just how to pose questions but how to read silences, how to follow up evasions, and how to maintain composure in the face of hostility. Those mock interviews felt theatrical at the time, but they revealed a truth I hold to this day. The moment an interviewee refuses to engage honestly, the citizen - the very heartbeat of democracy - is the one shortchanged. Unfortunately, in many young democracies, including Botswana, this lesson seems lost on too many public officials. Journalists routinely encounter evasions, half-answers, and outright hostility when trying to probe matters of national importance. Instead of clarity, the public is given smoke. Instead of accountability, the airwaves are filled with platitudes. Such moments matter more than officials often realise. Every time a minister dodges a question about corruption or an official dismisses a journalist’s inquiry on service delivery, the interview ceases to serve the public interest. It becomes a missed opportunity, wasted airtime that could have empowered citizens with knowledge about how their government functions. This is not unique to Botswana. Across the globe, journalists face similar struggles. In South Africa, for instance, former president Jacob Zuma became notorious for ducking pointed questions about State capture and corruption.
Press conferences descended into shouting matches as officials sought to control the narrative rather than answer for the looting of public funds. The result was not merely political theatre but a collapse in public trust. Citizens concluded that their leaders could not be relied upon to tell the truth when it mattered most. The same dynamics are visible in the United States, where politicians on both sides of the divide often use interviews to peddle talking points rather than grapple with tough questions. President Donald Trump, for example, frequently lashes out at journalists who press him on matters of national importance, even labelling some “fake.” Such tactics, designed to delegitimise the media, ultimately weaken democracy by eroding the channels through which citizens hold power to account. Botswana may not face the same intensity of political scandal or media hostility but the seeds of a troubling pattern are visible. Too often, officials speak only when it suits them, avoid direct questioning or provide vague answers couched in bureaucratic jargon. Citizens notice. Civil servants, businesspeople, farmers, and unemployed youth all understand when leaders are dodging the truth. They may not articulate it in academic terms, but the frustration is palpable: “Why will they not just answer the question?” This disillusionment gnaws away at public trust, making citizens cynical about both government and the media that fails to extract answers.