The Okavango Delta on a warm summer’s night is an unlikely setting for a murder story. But death is in the air. It comes from afar, and is executed by people who think that what they’re doing is good.

“They kill all of us in Botswana,” Keeditse Bailang says on the subject of a call to boycott tourism to the country. Supported by charitable souls who think they’re protecting the rights of the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) Bushmen this campaign will do the exact opposite.   If successful, it will condemn many thousands of Botswana’s people to lives of poverty.

Keeditse, or Kiddy as she is better known, is a 49 year old chef at one of the tourist camps. She comes from a humble village background where she received seven years of formal schooling.  As a MoYei (a tribe that’s lived in and around the delta for nearly 300 years) the only traditional skill that she had, to generate cash for her family, was basket-weaving.   Her lucky break came when she landed a job as a bar lady in a tourist camp. After a year she was promoted to chef.  For her the tourism industry has made all the difference.  She nows sees a future for herself and her children.

“I want to get to a higher standard of cooking. I am taking my daughter to school to learn how to cook like me.  That’s because she is not educated and I believe if she can pass that cooking course she can save her life under safaris.  Safaris are very good for people who are not educated because we can’t pass, all of us, to university,” she explains.

Kiddy teaching a tourist to weave

Seaparo Rendo is a River Bushman, of the people called the Qanikhwe.  He has also found his niche in Botswana’s tourism industry.  Somewhere in his seventies (he’s not sure when he was born) he is the epitome of good health. His barrel chest looks as if he’s been breathing in deep lungfuls of fresh, wholesome, air all his life.  Which he has.

“I grew up in a hunter-gatherer community. These communities were very close knit and family was very important. We hunted for consumption, and to sell at the meat market, which was at that time in Maun under a well-known tree.  A lot of our food came from the delta.  We dried jackalberries and ground them to eat.  Above all we were fishermen.  Fish was a very staple food for us and we had it at all meals prepared in different ways.  We had fish for tea in the morning, we mixed it with mealies or sorghum for lunch, or it was just cooked on its own.  What we enjoyed doing most of all was singing and dancing. We would do it every time we got the chance.  I wore traditional attire until I was a grown man.”

Seaparo never went to school.  As he says: “The industry found me here”.  As Chief of the staff village his knowledge and wisdom are highly regarded by all.  He describes his job as a jack-of-all-trades.

The call for a boycott saddens this wise old man. “Communities that lived in the delta long before these luxury lodges were built are now dependent on tourism.  A lot of us are directly involved and are breadwinners for our families.  My heart is not good knowing that someone would like to take away what we have worked so hard for.”

Seaparo still practices the old ways

Safari guide, Kambango Sinimbo, talks about his childhood in the bush near the Okavango Panhandle. “I grew up in a poor family. My parents were farmers. It was very difficult for me to get things like normal clothing and I would go over a year without new trousers or shoes. I grew up in a traditional house which we had to rebuild each year. We ate the same food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.   As I grew up I came to realize how hard my parents had to work for us.”

Starting out as a waiter Kambango worked his way up to the position of guide.  Several training courses and exposure to international tourists have opened his eyes to a wider world.

“When you meet people you don’t just talk about animals but you talk about ideas on how to better your life,” he says. “Now my family has a brick house that they do not need to build every year, with normal beds. We eat different and healthier foods.  Now I can provide a better growing-up for my kids.”

What does he think about the boycott?

“I feel bad about it.  If [overseas] people knew the life of our people, and realized what tourism has done for us and the country, they wouldn’t be saying such things.  If this boycott will happen it will take my life back to the beginning again.  Which means my life would stop as it would go backwards.  I feel nervous about the effect on my life very, very much.  My family is relying on me.  If I relied on farming it would not take me anywhere.”

“Stopping tourism would mean they want people to lose their jobs.  They are killing the people because most of the people rely on tourism.”

At 41 Daniel Mafikizolo is a waiter at a tourism lodge.  He explains that after getting his certificate he started work in a lodge in the small town of Kasane on the Chobe River.  He then made a strategic decision to move to the bush.

“Because in town you spend a lot of money, you have to buy food and you have to rent.  But in the bush they provide you with food and accommodation. The bush gives you the best experience to become a guide or a manager.  And I am trying very hard to end up as a manager, as this is my dream.”

His upbringing, like so many of his generation, was rural and poor and the opportunities that the tourism industry have opened up for Daniel has released him to another world.

“I can help my kids and my family without any fear.  Not like my parents who had to struggle just so that I could go to school.”

Regarding the ethics of a boycott he has this to say.

“Stopping tourism would mean they want people to lose their jobs.  They are killing the people because most of the people rely on tourism.  Those people work in all kinds of hotels, camp sites and camps.  Which means if people stopped coming there would be no life for them and no life for me.  And without tourism there is nothing I can assist my son with, which will affect him and his future.  If tourism industry stopped we would lose money and we won’t be able to help our family or our parents.  The tourism industry provides jobs for a lot of people, and in my village lots of people work in camps.”

While members of the American and European public may be unaware of the consequences of a tourism boycott, the same cannot be said of an organisation that claims to defend the world’s tribes.

Eleven years ago the Calitz family arrived with the intention of raising their young family in rural freshness. They soon realised that the reality of life for the people of the valley was completely out of synch with this dream. “Maid, Spade or Fade,” is how Erika Calitz describes the opportunities available for locals. Combined with the emotional legacy of apartheid, these limitations rendered feelings of futility and inadequacy among the inhabitants. As a result dysfunctional behaviour flourished.

It all began with a boy named Alfonso.

Alfonso was a loiterer. He hung around the farm watching the family’s every move. As time went by the Calitzes became accustomed to his habitutal presence, until one day the police arrived looking for him. The result: Alfonso was placed with the Calitz family as an alternative to going to juvenile prison. During the three years he lived with them, he went back to school, became a prefect and was much loved by fellow students and teachers. Since then Alfonso has flourished into a fine young man.

Alfonso set the stage. Over the years other youngsters have lived with the Calitz family, either voluntarily or placed with them through social welfare or the correctional services.

Understanding the desperate need for emotional anchorage, the Calitzes started holding casual meetings on Wednesday nights for the youth of the valley. They sat on the floor of their living room, shared stories, listened to music and sometimes watched inspiring movies – Forrest Gump was a favourite. Soon many parents started joining, and eventually, singing and praying also became part of the evening’s format.

But the Wednesday meetings weren’t enough. To give these kids a real chance hope was needed. Thus the idea of a guided hiking trail over the massive and daunting Swartberg was born. At an average of over 2,000m high the range is a fitting symbol for the emotional mountains these youngsters take on.

Amidst much scepticism and downright obstructionism – “we survived death threats, stones lobbed at our cars, offensive and abusive language” – the Donkey Trail started in 2008. It’s a two day hike into a remote valley called Gamkaskloof.   All the male staff are local. From camp hands to donkey trainers, lead guides to donkey operators they’ve all attended, at one time or another, the Wednesday meetings at the Calitz home.

The obvious attractions of the trail (a world biodiversity hotspot, spectacular scenery and quirky history) ensure a steady stream of travellers, yet it is the palliative effect on damaged psyches that charms those who delve deeper. To hear a stutter of uncertainty turn into a clear, confident reply in just two days is heartwarming. “It’s rehab for my body, mind and soul,” explains Franklin Dido, a guide.

Moreover, this is a world class tourism experience. Attention to detail merges with thorough training and excellent equipment to ensure a high level of safety and enjoyment. It’s an example of empowerment tourism that really works.

There have been many challenges of course, but the lads are now looking beyond tomorrow, into a deeper brighter future. Interests in studying nature conservation, ornithology and rock art have been expressed, as has the wish to learn more about business management and tent and tack making.

As Erika Calitz says, “We cannot take our guides to the world, but we are bringing the world to them.” Each trail, each interaction, no matter how compassionate or difficult the guest might be, is a valuable lesson in the personal journeys of these young men.

History makes South Africa a fitting country to start the Peace Park ball rolling and it is appropriate that the first one was established between Botswana and South Africa (the Kgaligadi Transfrontier Park). Botswana, an African country, is a symbol of stability and tolerance in the world.

As sports fans know South Africa has been awarded the privilege of hosting the 2010 Soccer World Cup, and it was with this event looming that a recent high-powered conference was held in Johannesburg. With a few exceptions all the Ministers of Tourism from the SADC countries were present, and individuals in the top echelons of their fields made presentations.

What really struck me from the two-day event was the pervasive sentiment from the South African team that 2010 is not only a win for South Africa, but also for all SADC countries. Most importantly, South Africa wants to share this opportunity to showcase the wonderful tourism attractions that all its nearest neighbours offer. There is nothing self-centred about this rationale. On the contrary, it communicates the principles of Ubuntu very well. Ubuntu is a southern African ethic focussing on human relations. It advocates openness and affirmation of others and provides an enabling environment for those around you.

Peace Parks are the brainchild of the late Dr Anton Rupert and now his son, Johann Rupert, is promoting these exciting ventures. All in all, Peace Parks is a truly African initiative and one that sets an example to the World.