Assuming Faith in Botswana

November 10, 2016

In Botswana, faith is assumed. Acquaintances (or, more often, strangers) assume my faith when they ask if I go to church—it’s not if I am religious, but if I am religious enough, if I attend church every Sunday or only when it’s convenient. My rugby team assumes my faith when we pray together at the end of each practice and before each match. I also experienced this assumption about my faith during a class field trip last Saturday, when we all blessed our food before sitting down for lunch.


The largest and most vibrant student organizations at University of Botswana are faith-based. People approach me in the student square all the time, pressing me with fliers about a youth group or “Faith Fun Day” occurring over the weekend. I often come home to find these fliers pushed under my door. I have never been religious, and so I’m never sure what to tell those who ask. To older women, I usually claim to be Catholic, since after all, Georgetown is a Catholic school. There are also very few Catholics in Botswana, which lessens my chances of needing to defend a faith I don’t understand. Lying about my religion seems easier than facing their admonishment and horror if I admit that I never attended church and avoided religious labels throughout my life. I do try to be honest about my views on religion with my friends. However, my honesty often results in my friends offering to take me to church.

One Sunday, when I accepted my roommate’s invitation to church, the priest asked at the beginning of the service if anyone was new to the congregation. After I raised my hand, each and every worshipper lined up to welcome me, one by one. I received at least 50 sincere handshakes or gentle hugs. I was stunned into silence by such a display of welcome.

Before I arrived to Botswana, I expected there to be a lot of (justified) hostility, or at least resentment, towards white people and the colonial legacy of occupation in Botswana. However, this has not been the case. Many of my friends and professors speak somewhat graciously about missionaries who brought the written word and religion into the region. Perhaps this is because the Protectorate of Bechuanaland was less oppressive than Portugal’s colonial Mozambique in the east, or the apartheid regime in the south. Botswana’s diamonds and other minerals went undiscovered until after it declared independence, and so Britain mostly left it alone, discounting the area as a vast and useless desert.

Still, something strikes me as odd about the students who frequently approach me on campus and ask me to witness their faith. Although my own ancestors never set foot on this continent, white Europeans like them first spread Christianity in Botswana. It seems the world has gone full circle, and now I am targeted by Batswana who hope to convert me. However, faith in Botswana has spread and splintered ever since David Livingstone first taught Sechele I to read the Bible beneath his famous fig tree. I have seen the effects of this, as I have met Batswana of a myriad of denominations—from Seventh-day Adventists to Latter-day Saints and even, occasionally, Catholics.

There are also vibrant religious minority communities in Gaborone, where many people of South Asian descent reside. For instance, there’s a mosque right across the street from campus. In front of the mosque is a large billboard, which proclaims, “Welcome to ISLAM welcomes you!!!” I also occasionally attend puja at a beautiful Hindu temple in Gabs. After the service, the worshippers share a delicious meal together. The people at the temple are incredibly welcoming. They urge me to come back the following week and always ensure that I’m equipped with prayer cards so I can follow along during the service.

When I first arrived here, I was overwhelmed by Batswana’s assumption of faith; I’m not a huge fan of lying about my beliefs. However, I am now left with the warm welcome of the faith that inspires so many of my friends here. In the United States, faith is often a deeply private matter. But here, nothing is private, and all are welcome.
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