Indigenous Concepts of Education

Toward Elevating Humanity for All Learners

Kenneth A. Loparo, D. Adeniji-Neill, Kenneth A. Loparo, D. Adeniji-Neill

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781137382184
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Education Theory & Practice

Featuring in-depth examinations of concepts of knowing, learning, and education from a range of cultures worldwide, this book offers a rich theory of indigenous concepts of education, their relation to Western concepts, and their potential for creating education that articulates the aspirations of communities and fosters humanity for all learners.

I

Education and Identity

1

The Khoisan Indigenous Educational System and the Construction of Modern Khoisan Identities

Berte van Wyk

This chapter explores educational perspectives of the indigenous Khoisan people of South Africa. My argument is that any attempt to understand ways of education of the Khoisan people cannot solely rely on Western notions and understandings of education. To this end, I explore three key notions pertaining to Khoisan education, namely community, traditional leadership, and the land question. In these discussions, I briefly touch on initiatives aimed at promoting Khoisan culture, languages, heritage, and the struggles for the restoration of ancestral lands dispossessed under colonialism and apartheid. In doing so, I will also dispel and challenge myths and distortions by European settlers of the Khoisan people.

Khoisan (first recorded as “Koïsan”) is the name by which the lighter-skinned indigenous peoples of Southern Africa, the Khoi (Hottentots) and the San (Bushmen), are known. The name refers to cultural, linguistic, and even traditional patterns among the people. Khoi (in old Nama orthography) or khoe (in modern Nama orthography) means “person.” The Nama and Korana, the two herding peoples who have survived into the seventeenth century, use the compound Khoekhoen, “People of People,” as their self-appellation (Barnard, 1992, p. 7). Khoe was first recorded as Quena (the -na is a common-gender plural suffix) by Jan van Riebeeck in January 1653 and is found as a generic term for people in most Khoe languages—that is, those of the Khoehkhoe, the Damara, and certain “central Bushman” groups. In Nama, the term requires a number-gender suffix (khoeb, a man; khoes, a woman; khoera, two women; khoeti, three or more women, etc). The term Khoisan is widely accepted among the indigenous people over the last few decades, and the different groupings embrace the term as they seek to restore their traditions and culture.

Education in the context of this chapter takes on a different meaning, a meaning that is sometimes at odds with a Western notion. The Western notion is primarily a formalized one, which refers to the institutionalized, chronologically graded, and hierarchically structured educational system, spanning lower primary school and the upper reaches of the university (Rasmussen, 1998). However, when the first Europeans came to the Cape Town, there were no structures among the Khoisan people that fitted this description of education. When van Riebeeck landed with three ships in Table Harbour in Cape Town on April 6, 1652, there were no written records (such as books) that could serve as references of Khoisan education, and the Europeans made no effort to understand the indigenous Khoisan people from a Khoisan perspective. They, instead, used their Eurocentric traditions to view the Khoisan people. An example of this is a comment by Pascal Dubourg Glatigny and Estelle Alma Maré (2002) on the Khoi in seventeenth-century European representations:

Thus they were soon subjugated and finally, as could be expected, became extinct.

The educational traditions of the Khoisan people in the seventeenth century, the time of the arrival of the Europeans, were characterized by an oral tradition although there were important writings such as the rock art. However, such paintings were regarded as primitive and invariably were interpreted through foreign lenses, which distorted and devalued precolonial forms of education in South Africa. In contrast to Western views, Khoisan education during this period can best be described as informal and nonformal. Rasmussen (1998) describes informal education as the lifelong learning process by which every person acquires and accumulates knowledge skills, attitudes, and insights from daily experiences and exposure to the environment. Nonformal education is described as any organized, systematic education activity carried on outside the framework of the formal system to provide select types of learning to particular subgroups in the population, adults as well as children.

South Africa after 1994 is characterized as a silent cultural revolution. There are also attempts to downplay the indigeneity of the Khoisan people, and from some quarters there are even attempts to group all the African and black people in the country as being indigenous. It is not the aim of this chapter to explore such claims, but suffice it to say such claims are accompanied by silence on the part of the African National Congress (ANC)–led government in recognizing and giving First Nation status to the Khoisan people.

I will next explore key areas of Khoisan education and will interweave these with my experiences growing up on the ancestral lands in the Northern Cape province of South Africa. This is done in an attempt to draw on contemporary practices to inform historical interpretations.

Community

The Khoisan people were hunter-gatherers in the past, living largely off game, honey, and the roots and fruits of plants. They lived—and some still do today—in total harmony with nature, posing no threat to wildlife and vegetation by overhunting or gathering. The seminomadic existence of the San was (and is) governed by the seasons and the movement of game. Thus, Khoisan ways of life were built on a strong sense of community. In such a community, the well-being of the community came first, as opposed to that of the individual. Since the community was dependent on natural resources, there were no permanent towns or places of living. For instance, during periods of drought, food became scarce and the survival of the community depended on moving to greener pastures where food was plentiful. To move an entire community was no mean feat. Given the terrain (semidesert in large parts of the country), it took skillful organization to manage and navigate their way. When game is scarce, the group splits up into smaller parties to search for food. During severe, prolonged droughts, the women chew the bark of a particular tree, which acts as a contraceptive, so preventing an increase in the number of mouths to feed. Many animals such as snakes, lizards, and even scorpions are eaten when food is scarce.

To provide liquid in dry areas and at times of drought, the San store water in ostrich shells, which they bury deep below the sandy desert surface. They recover the shells with uncanny accuracy. Skin kaross, loin cloths, and aprons are the San’s only adornments. Their seminomadic life makes it impossible to possess anything that is not easy to carry. Their shelters are built of sticks and form roughly a circle, 150 mm high. Some cover the sticks with mats woven from reeds.

Most groups today are less nomadic than their forebearers were. However, the desert San live much as their ancestors did. They move in small clans, each with its clearly defined territory. The women gather wild melons such as tsamma (a source of food and water), roots, and edible berries. The men hunt with wooden bow and arrow and use clubs and spears if necessary. The arrowheads are tipped with poison made from insect grubs. It acts slowly on the victim’s nervous system.

I attended primary school in the small town of Kenhardt and my mother, Maria van Wyk, left for work before I went to school and returned when the school was closed for the day. During those years, we were allowed to go home to eat during school intervals, as my home was just across the school. Very often I was asked by neighbors to join with their children for a meal. At that time I took these gestures for granted as my mother always served food to other children visiting my home. Reflecting back, I now realize that this sense of community epitomized the way of life for us. At that time if I was at somebody else’s house, they almost automatically would provide me a meal as well. In this way the community took care of the children, and at that time incidents of child abuse and violence against children were almost unheard of.

Caring for neighbors is an integral part of community life. Next to ours lived a poorer family, and they always came to our house asking for small things, from matches to paraffin and sometimes for food. My mother always reminded us that if someone comes asking for something that we have in the house, we should give what they asked for. So when we served food, there would be extra plates for them, and sometimes people will be seen crisscrossing the neighborhood taking food to other families—it was at times quite funny to see this!

Wedding ceremonies in our community are occasions when the community spirit is also manifested, and I remember the wedding of my cousin in the small town of Rietfontein in the Kalahari. After the church service, the celebration in the hall went on from about 3 in the afternoon till about 11 in the evening. Nobody needed an invite, but guests kept on arriving in stages, had their meal, congratulated the couple, and then made way for the next round of guests to arrive.

While this sense of community still prevails in many parts of the country, it is sadly lacking in many urban areas. Khoisan communities are in urgent need of the restoration of their sense of community. A sense of community characterized by the adage ‘I am my brother’s keeper’ can make a significant difference to deal with modern social ills, such as school dropouts, teenage pregnancies, substance abuse, violence, and gangsterism, as well as to provide a safety net for struggling families.

Traditional leadership

Job Morris (2012) claims that San leadership cannot be understood by others and that it is elderly based. The leaders are known for their fairness and their ability to consult. The San believe that in the absence of a leader, leadership does not exist. Leaders should create an enabling environment and hear everyone’s concerns. In this leadership structure, women, children, and men have different gifts, and everyone should contribute to the wholeness of the community.

San leadership is further described as one that is not coercive and one that is not imbalanced (Morris, 2012). The San have a history of their leaders acting as servants of their people. The principle is that leaders should not be hard, warrior-based, coercive, or directing. Leaders are those who seek advice from their people. A leader invites his people around a fire and establishes dialog about matters of interest to the clan or community. Very importantly, this is where healing takes place. He invites them to touch on their joys and sorrows as they tell their stories. Folklores or tales were passed on to many generations in this way, and such depictions can be seen in the rock art that had existed for centuries. San leaders also prosecute an offender depending on the nature of the offence but after an offender has been repeatedly warned. Trial judgment is passed only after consultation with other elders.

The clan system of the Khoi was somewhat more reformed than that of the San. Each group had a chief. Khois dwelled in beehive-shaped huts made with pliable sticks. Long mats with the strips sewn together covered the frame, leaving an opening at either end. A narrower mat to roll up or down was hung over these openings. The huts could be dismantled easily and transported on the back of oxen as people moved on. These mat-covered huts can still be seen in Namaqualand and other parts of the country.

Strong leadership has been pivotal to Khoisan’s way of social life. The influence of leaders was also evident in my hometown, Kenhardt. In this town where I grew up, we had a Khoisan minister at our church. Through my research, I found that he was a contemporary of the late Chief Albert Luthuli, an ANC leader and recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize. Due to the influence by this ANC minister, Rev. Saul Damon came to Kenhardt and, as part of the congress tradition, assessed the state of education in the community. He then earmarked funds of the church and paid for the studies of late D. A. Titus (affectionately called Dappie) to become a teacher. This move inspired others in the community to also choose teaching as a career. Readers should note that this happened under apartheid, and there were not many career options available to Khoisan people, with the result that teaching and nursing became popular choices.

Due to these developments, schools in the Northern Cape produced many professionals across careers. Matric results, which are a major focus of academic excellence in democratic South Africa, consistently place the Northern Cape in the top three (out of nine) provinces. A further point to note is that I was only taught by Khoisan teachers at school, and this must have protected me from the worst impact of apartheid. Typically of that period, our school was quietly resisting apartheid symbols and celebrations. I remember on one apartheid Republic Day celebration that I was surprised to see some children tear the apartheid flags and trample upon them on the ground. What made these children to display such a drastic action? I can only assume that the then Khoisan leadership had a hand in such actions and there was tacit approval by the community leaders.

The Land Question

When the Dutch settlers arrived in Table Bay in Cape Town, they had to encounter the indigenous Khoisan people. Early European records describe these pastoralists, with large herds of stock, as being more wealthier than the average European peasant of the time. However, their wealth and prosperity would prove short-lived in the face of increasingly aggressive European migration into the interior. Soon after their arrival here, the Europeans aggressively and through their superior military powers occupied traditional Khoisan land. Morris (2004) provides the following statement by Jan van Riebeeck:

They strongly insisted that we had been appropriating more and more of their land which had been theirs all these centuries . . . They asked if they would be allowed to do such a thing supposing they went to Holland, and they added: “It would be of little consequence if you people stayed at the fort, but you come right into the interior and select the best land for yourselves . . . ”

This excerpt from van Riebeeck’s diaries describes with surprising honesty the sentiments expressed by the Khoikhoi leaders at the so-called peace talks in 1660, which brought to a close the first Dutch-Khoikhoi war in the Cape. It was the first of many wars waged by the settlers against the indigenous peoples of Southern Africa. Since then, the issue of land has remained the central and unresolved question in South Africa to this day.

What is the Khoisan philosophy toward land? It can best be described as: the land is not ours, we belong to the land. The Europeans exploited this philosophy and used this nonlegal position to their own advantage. Vinnicombe (1986, p. 287) posits that the question of the future of indigenous people in relation to their traditional land throws up several moral and political issues that researchers need to address. To her, the current conflict over land rights issues for the few existing hunter-gatherer peoples in the world derives from two different, culturally specific interpretations of the earth. One is based on the land as an inert, inalienable commodity—as a potential source of personal and corporate profits. The other is rooted in a view of the land as inseparable from the process of living (and may I add education) and as identical with communal human life. I agree with Vinnicombe that the basic controversy is whether the earth should be considered economic real estate or spiritual reality. If the latter philosophy holds a place in the modern world, then the issues of land rights and self-determination become matters of vital concern for hunter-gatherers espousing this philosophy.

San are perhaps the most profound human beings on earth who believe that nature has a spiritual and a symbolic relationship with them. In the transformation happening due to climate change and other human implications that contributed to the severe scarring and damage of the earth, San claim that their source of life has been destroyed as a result of those unfortunate events (Morris, 2012). According to the San, their mandate in this world is to bring balance to the ills of mother earth and heal the environment to be greener and fat. Believing that they have a phenomenal connection with the earth, they feel responsible for taking care of it. From time to time, they see people cut down trees, kill animals for their sport or for fun, burn down the environment, littering, digging gigantic holes to extract precious stones, and, as their population grows, expand into the territories of the San and occupy their land. Environment, veld (woods), Mother Earth is a source of life for the San, and their very existence is embedded in how they survive in that land. Mother Earth and the natural environment are integrated into the Khoisan system of education for children. Seeing other people take away their precious land is more like seeing their own people being killed. Their source of food is the ground—digging tubers and burying its roots so it can regrow and be a resource for others as well.

Under apartheid, land once again became a point of friction. The media sensationalized the story of District Six, which was inhabited by a mix of communities, at the centre of the city of Cape Town. The apartheid government declared this as slum area, forcefully removed all the inhabitants, and dumped them on the Cape Flats. For this purpose, Mitchell’s Plain was built, and early inhabitants of this area described it as a patch of sand where the wind always blows.

More Kho...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Introduction
• Part I Education and Identity
• Part II Knowledges and Epistemologies
• Part III Culture, Histories, and Language
• Bibliography
• Notes on Contributors
• Index