Download the PDF: Reflections on Issue 3, Transforming Lives & Livelihoods through Agency-focused Adult Education by Robert Jjuuko

In this review, Robert Jjuuko examines Issue 3 of the MOJA Journal of Adult Education. He points to the rich collection of contributions demonstrating how Adult Learning and Education can strengthen people’s capacity not only to respond to difficult circumstances, but also to shape more sustainable and dignified livelihoods. Across diverse contexts, the Journal illustrates how knowledge, practical wisdom, collective action, and learning can enable individuals and communities to move beyond survival towards greater autonomy, solidarity, and transformation.

The third issue of the MOJA Journal of Adult Education arrived at a difficult and fluid moment in global politics, governance, and economics with consequential stresses, shocks, and risks on the lives and livelihoods of individuals and communities everywhere in the world. In this review, I examine how the MOJA Journal frames Adult Learning and Education (ALE) as a foundational pillar for building sustainable livelihoods. I approach this conversation using the dual lenses of agency and resilience. As the Editorial brilliantly implies, by moving beyond a survivalist tradition toward a prefigurative one, the Journal highlights how transformative ALE enables individuals to not just read the word, but to read the world and change it (Freire, as cited in Baatjes & Baatjes, 2008). In the phrase ‘people need more than just bread…they also need roses - dignity, respect, and the opportunity to live fully, with purpose and pride,’ the Editorial eloquently flags ALE’s transformative rhythm.

Agency as the soul of livelihood transformation

I see the idea of reclaiming individual and collective agency as a core of sustainable livelihoods (Manlosa, 2022) running through most of the articles. Agency, defined as a person’s ability to pursue and realise goals they have reason to value, is presented as the essential ‘treasure within,’ that ALE must unlock (Crocker, 2008; Delors, 2013). For instance, Keltouma Adouane’s article describing her Saffron Learning Journey, and her transition from business law to setting up a saffron-based social enterprise, exemplifies the essence of the freedom for individuals to pursue goals they have reason to value (Walker & Unterhalter, 2007). I think her commitment for sharing saffron knowledge with other rural women escalated a personal quest for well-being into collective agency for community empowerment. 

A reflection on the Tunisian Joint Programme on Accelerating Progress towards Rural Women’s Economic Empowerment reveals latent agentic intentions and resilience. The authors make a powerful recognition of the practical wisdom of often neglected social actors in society. As agreeably observed by Monia Manai and Kaouther Rassaa, rural women are among the most economically vulnerable, and their traditional wisdom and skills often go unrecognised. It is encouraging to read that the project implements a predominantly ‘Participatory Learning and Action methodology’ with a blend of andragogical principles where the experiential knowledge of adult women farmers constitutes one of the essential knowledge building blocks. 

Resilience in the theory and practice of sustainable livelihoods

The Sustainable Livelihoods Framework conceptualises a living as sustainable when one can ‘cope with and recover from stress and shocks’ (Chambers & Conway, 1991; Natarajan et al., 2022). Issue 3 presents resilience not as a slogan but as a demonstrated capability of the poor to navigate a vulnerable context, characterised by knowledge and economic injustices. The role of social actors in the informal settlements of Namibia illustrates the resilience-harnessing power of adult literacy education. Nicholette Mutenda and Colette February argue that adult learners from the two informal settlements ‘feel empowered and independent in certain aspects of their life.’ According to the authors, the adult learners reported that acquiring English communication skills, for example, enabled them to express their healthcare needs, and assist their children with school homework.

The North African initiatives in Abdelhakim Zidi’s article highlight how communities of urban farmers can make a strategic response to socioeconomic shocks. By transforming urban residential locations into production zones, city dwellers strengthen their food autonomy and social inclusion. The idea that permaculture training in Algeria can build community resilience, and that this demonstrates the transformative power of small, collective efforts by groups or individuals who are united for a cause, are both compelling intellectual arguments.

Transformative ALE and ‘communities of practice’

Issue 3 showcases how self-organised groups who share a common sense of purpose can exercise individual and collective perspectives to trigger community action. The South African story of mature women working in Early Childhood Development work demonstrates the multiplier effect of ALE-embedded communities of practice. Kaylianne Aploon-Zokufa suggests that older women, who had ordinarily been denied access to mainstream education and training, used this form of ALE as a pathway from having limited work opportunities to engaging in meaningful work. Aware of the structural barriers, such as apparent ageism in the social struggles over limited decent work opportunities, I deeply appreciate this as a contribution to dignified ageing while acknowledging and preserving practical wisdom in promoting early learning outcomes. A similar argument is presented by Rebecca Nthogo Lekoko and Ontlametse Kebatenne in their article about the ‘catalytic role’ played by adult education in the lives of two senior entrepreneurs in Botswana.

Salome Olesi Terah’s article about Kenya’s Gravity CBC and Community Learning Centre demonstrates intergenerational learning which blends Indigenous wisdom with so-called scientific knowledge. By grounding its work in the REFLECT approach which fuses Freirean theory with Chambers’ Participatory Rural Appraisal (PRA), the Community Learning Centre supports the empowerment of communities to tackle systemic local problems through collective agency and action. Ms SYLLA Fatoumata Hama CISSE’s examination of ALE’s impact in the lives of women in Mali further exemplifies the social actors’ courageous choice of REFLECT, an agency-freeing methodology amidst escalating ‘economics in social policy’ across the entire world. Betty Lunkuse’s narration of home-based workfocused ALE is a beautiful testimony of what it means to approach ALE practice with sharp attention on matters that are often peripheral to public policy making. Uganda’s Ngalo Buwereza Organisation’s ALE approach illuminates the possibilities of supporting home-based workers to value and defend their occupations. This clearly resonates with social justice and transformational resistance which can thrive on the power of collective bargaining and solidarity.

Conclusion

In general terms, MOJA Issue 3 tremendously contributes to our understanding of ALE’s transformative potential as an essential tool for sustainable livelihoods. By providing space for ALE practitioners and professionals to share stories of the learning and working experiences of communities including rural women, farmers, and displaced citizens, the Issue affirms the power of practical wisdom. This wisdom, in turn, is a mirror of the social actors’ agency and resilience. Among the many important takeaways from Issue 3 is the virtue and essence of democratic adult education (Slowey et al., 2023). 

Democratising ALE practice gives  rise to the idea of reclaiming the personal and professional autonomy  of social actors in ALE policy and practice to enable them to act as animators, mentors, and facilitators. Relatedly, Jjuuko’s research suggests freeing the individual agency of social actors to overturn deficit narratives that blame the poor and socially disadvantaged learners for their circumstances (2021). Fundamentally, MOJA Issue 3 powerfully reminds us that another world can happen and that it is possible when communities are facilitated and motivated to use their agency to plant seeds of meaningful livelihoods underlined by social, ecological, and cognitive justice. 

About the author

Dr Robert Jjuuko (PhD) is a Ugandan educationist, researcher, and development consultant with more than 20 years’ experience in education and development work. He has a strong contextual understanding of adult education across subSaharan Africa with practical and professional experience as an adult educator spanning community and institutional settings for non-literate adults, early school leavers, higher education students, professionals, and development practitioners.

He is a lecturer at Gulu University researching and promoting lifelong learning and meaningful youth transitions. He is the co-chairholder of the UNESCO Chair on Lifelong Learning, Youth and Work which brings together professionals and practitioners from Gulu University, University of Groningen in the Netherlands and other knowledge institutions.

References/Further reading

Baatjes, B., & Baatjes, I. (2008). The right to adult and community education (S. Vally, Ed.). Centre for Education Rights and Transformation.

Chambers, R., & Conway, G. (1991). Sustainable rural livelihoods: Practical concepts for the 21st century. Institute of Development Studies. https://opendocs.ids.ac.uk/opendocs/ handle/20.500.12413/775

Crocker, D. A. (2008). Hunger, capability, and agency-oriented development. In Ethics of global development: Agency, capability, and deliberative democracy (pp. 255-294). Cambridge University Press.

Delors, J. (2013). The treasure within: Learning to know, learning to do, learning to live together and learning to be. What is the value of that treasure 15 years after its publication? International Review of Education, 59(3), 319-330.

Jjuuko, R. (2021). Youth transition, agricultural education and employment in Uganda. [PhD thesis, University Groningen].

Manlosa, A. O. (2022). Operationalizing agency in livelihoods research: Smallholder farming livelihoods in southwest Ethiopia. Ecology & Society, 27(1), Article 11. https://doi. org/10.5751/ES-12887-270111

Natarajan, N., Newsham, A., Rigg, J., & Suhardiman, D. (2022). A sustainable livelihoods framework for the 21st century. World Development, 155, 105898. https:// doi.org/10.1016/j.worlddev.2022.105898

Slowey, M., Hinzen, H., Omolewa, M., & Osborne, M. (Eds.). (2023). Adult education and social justice: International perspectives. Firenze University Press. https://doi. org/10.36253/979-12-215-0253-4

Walker, M., & Unterhalter, E. (2007). The capability approach: Its potential for work in education. In M. Walker & E. Unterhalter (Eds.), Amartya Sen’s capability approach and social justice in education (pp. 1-18). Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi. org/10.1057/9780230604810_1

Download the PDF: AfroSymbiocity: Unity in Diversity Dissolves Conflict (PDF)

In the heart of Africa’s land, Wisdom walked 
with gentle hand. Moshoeshoe spoke with 
love so wide, Turning foes to friends beside.

Conflict came with storm and flame, 
Yet peace was born, not war or blame. 
Through sharing bread, through open door, 
He built a world worth fighting for.

Love that asks for nothing back, 
Healed the wounds, repaired the crack. 
Timeless truths in simple ways, 
Guide us still in modern days.

In a world of shifting sand, 
Volatile, complex, hard to stand, 
We learn anew what elders knew: Unity makes strength shine through. 
Adult hearts can still be free, 
Learning through eternity. 
Fluid minds, not bound by age, 
Write new peace on history’s page.

From Africa’s bright symphony,
A lesson sings for all to see: Diversity dissolves the strife, 
And harmony gives birth to life.

About the author

Dr Ilongo Fritz Ngale is a Cameroonian psychologist and counsellor by profession, and a creative writer by passion. He is currently a Senior Lecturer at the University of Eswatini, Kwaluseni Campus. His research interests include philosophies of education, workplace bullying, dispute management and conflict resolution, gender-based violence, mental health, and African counselling approaches.

Dr Ngale formulated the concept of AfroSymbiocity as a psychological and cultural framework for understanding conflict and conflict resolution. The framework is exemplified by King Moshoeshoe I, whose use of authentic African conflict resolution strategies enabled him to forge peace and harmony among diverse communities in Southern Africa.

Download the PDF: The Naaba and his Notebook: What Conventional Law can Learn from Customary Practice by Souleymane Tall (PDF) 

The smoke from the morning fire still hung in the air as I crossed the threshold of the courtyard. Seated beneath an old shea [1] tree, the Naaba was leafing through a notebook with a torn cover, its pages crumpled by years of consultations, discussions, and pronouncements made in hushed tones. 

The Naaba looked up, smiled, and said simply, ‘This is my penal [2] code.’ 

As commonplace as it may appear to some, this simple statement encapsulates a complex and profoundly significant reality for anyone interested in the dynamics of social peace in the rural societies of the Sahel.

Since 2015, Burkina Faso has faced an unprecedented security crisis that has progressively destabilised institutional structures in the north and east, as well as in the Sahel. Constrained in its ability to deliver public services, the state has been forced to retreat on several fronts, including the closure of schools, the suspension of court sessions, and the withdrawal of personnel from local administrative structures. It comes as no surprise then that the formal justice system - the principal institution responsible for resolving disputes among citizens - is, in many affected areas, no longer able to fulfil its basic mission and fundamental functions.

Faced with this institutional void, customary authorities continue to manage land, family, and intra- and intercommunal disputes using the resources and mechanisms available to them. Their legitimacy, rooted in collective memory and reinforced through public recognition, grants them an authority that neither the state nor aid organisations have been able to replicate. This article is motivated by the disconnect between the increasing inaccessibility of formal justice and written law, on the one hand, and the continued effectiveness and social legitimacy of customary justice, on the other. It asks how these two normative [3] systems can be constructively integrated to serve social peace and the protection of rights. It further explores the role that education can play in fostering such integration.

• Conventional justice and customary justice

Legal pluralism means that different systems of law exist and operate at the same time within the same social space, with no single system having complete control over how people behave (Kohlhagen, 2010). In subSaharan Africa, these systems include customary laws that existed before colonialism, laws introduced during the colonial period, and modern state laws established after independence. Hagberg (1998) showed that in Burkina Faso, farmers and herders often choose either customary or formal legal systems depending on the type of dispute they face.

• Customary justice through the lens of restorative justice 

Restorative justice is an approach that focuses on repairing relationships and restoring harmony rather than simply punishing offenders (Zehr, 2002). Although the contemporary theory of restorative justice was largely developed in North America, its principles closely resemble many long-standing customary justice practices in Burkina Faso, where reconciliation, forgiveness (kôrô), and reparation (ligidi) are central to resolving disputes and rebuilding social relationships. Community leaders frequently resolve family disputes and intercommunity conflicts with values such as these, without relying on the formal justice system.

• Learning peace through nonformal education

Freire (1974) [4] argued that authentic education is inherently political, based on dialogue, rooted in the lived reality of participants, and directed toward their capacity to act upon the world in order to transform it. From this perspective, customary palavers [5] (or sessions) can be understood not simply as mechanisms for resolving disputes, but also as spaces for collective learning where community members share and pass on norms, values, and social skills. This interpretation aligns with Lederach’s (1997) concept of middle-range (intermediary) leadership in peacebuilding, which emphasises the role of actors who connect grassroots communities with institutional structures. These intermediary actors provide the guiding focus for our analysis of how sustainable peace can be built and maintained.

• The study

In 2025, I conducted a qualitative study based on participant observation. Rather than seeking statistical representativeness, my aim was to gain an in-depth understanding of how customary justice functions in practice. As an advisor to Burkina Faso’s School and University Administration, I am deeply rooted in the country’s institutional context. My position facilitated access to participants and provided me with a deeper understanding of the cultural assumptions that shaped their perspectives and practices. At the same time, I remained aware of the need for continuous reflexivity to minimise potential bias arising from  my close involvement with the research setting.

I conducted the fieldwork in a rural commune in northern Burkina Faso at the residence of the Naaba, whose customary authority extends over several neighbourhoods and villages. Data collection took place in two stages. First, I observed a morning of traditional village meetings, during which I attended three informal arbitration sessions. Second, I conducted a semi-structured interview lasting approximately two hours in Fulfulde. I documented my observations through detailed field notes and an analytical memo [6] with the Naaba’s informed consent. The interview was not audio-recorded, in keeping with local customs of hospitality and discretion and at the Naaba’s request.

I analysed the data thematically. Three main themes emerged: the practical management of conflicts; the educational role of traditional village meetings; and the relationship between customary justice and the formal legal system. I then compared these themes with theoretical perspectives to identify areas of convergence and divergence.

The limitations of this study are those inherent to any qualitative work based on a single case from which neither generalisations nor conclusions can be drawn. It follows then that this article should be considered as an exploratory contribution, calling for further research on a larger scale.

• Findings

Local customary justice 

The first key finding is the central role of the Naaba in managing everyday social tensions and conflicts. During a single morning of observation, three disputes were brought before him: an inter-family land dispute over the boundaries of a sorghum field; a marital conflict concerning the return of a dowry; and a dispute between a farmer and a herder over crop damage caused by stray livestock. In each of these cases, the Naaba followed an informal but rigorously structured process that included hearing the parties separately, calling on relevant witnesses and/or elders, private deliberations, followed by a public announcement of the decision with an explanation of its reasoning. This customary protocol, passed down through tradition and refined by personal experience, provides an effective means of conflict resolution in a setting where the nearest court is 45 kilometres away on dirt roads. 

Formal justice is also costly, slow, and primarily concerned with determining legal responsibility, often giving limited attention to the long-term effects of its decisions on community relationships. By contrast, customary justice draws on local values and practices that promote dialogue, reconciliation, and social cohesion.

Kôrô and ligidi: Customary instruments of restorative justice

The second finding concerns the principles guiding the Naaba’s decisions. Unlike formal justice, which focuses on determining guilt and enforcing legal rights, customary justice seeks to repair damaged relationships and restore social harmony. Two key concepts shape this approach: kôrô (forgiveness) and ligidi (reparation). They are not mere procedures; they are public social acts, whose effectiveness lies precisely in their collective and visible nature. 

As the Naaba explained: ‘The court heals the broken bone with its law. I must heal the surrounding flesh so that the bone can heal.’ This metaphor captures the essential distinction in purpose between the two systems. While formal justice re-establishes legal rights, customary justice restores the social bonds that enable communities to live together peacefully.

The Naaba as an unwitting educator

The third finding, and perhaps the most unexpected, is the educational role of the palaver. Although there is no formal curriculum, programme or classroom, the Naaba serves as an educator teaching community values, conflict-resolution skills, and social norms through practice. Each arbitration session is a living lesson. Young people, though silent, learn how a conflict is named, presented and discussed, and then how it is resolved. Women, although also participating less directly, witness the proceedings and pass on this knowledge within their families and communities. The disputing parties practise a form of storytelling by presenting their grievances according to shared expectations of truthfulness, respect, and responsibility.

This learning through observation, participation, and experience represents a form of non-formal education that contributes to peacebuilding and social cohesion. Yet it remains largely unrecognised by formal education systems and externally funded peacebuilding programmes.

The limits recognised by the Naaba

Finally, the Naaba himself openly acknowledged the limitations of his actions. He recognised that his decisions have no formal legal status and that agreements reached through customary mediation may be contested before the state courts. He also noted that certain disputes, particularly those involving parties from outside the community or land conflicts linked to commercial investment, fall beyond the scope of his customary jurisdiction. This awareness of the boundaries of his authority is, in itself, an important finding. This reflective stance and openness provide a valuable foundation for strengthening dialogue and collaboration between customary authorities and state institutions within future peacebuilding and  justice programmes.

• Discussion

Legal pluralism: From coexistence to cooperation

The findings confirm the literature on legal pluralism, which shows that the coexistence of customary and formal legal systems is a structural feature of rural Burkinabè society (Kohlhagen, 2010; Hagberg, 1998). However, coexistence alone does not ensure effective collaboration. Without mechanisms that connect the two systems, customary agreements may lack legal recognition, while formal judicial decisions may have limited social legitimacy when they are perceived as disconnected from local cultural realities.

The study and this article suggest that effective cooperation between customary and formal justice cannot be achieved through legislation alone or left to chance. Rather, it requires trained actors to navigate both normative systems, facilitating communication and mutual understanding. We propose calling these intermediaries normative mediators.

Restorative justice

The conflict-resolution practices observed in the Naaba’s court closely reflect the principles of restorative justice outlined by Zehr (2002). Priority is given to restoring relationships rather than punishing wrongdoing, community participation is central to the process, and emphasis is placed on future social harmony rather than retrospective blame.

This correspondence suggests that restorative justice is not an externally imposed framework but one that resonates with long-established customary practices in Burkina Faso. These practices are embedded in a normative logic that prioritises social cohesion and recognises that collective survival depends on sustaining cooperative relationships despite conflict. This provides a strong basis for the development of community justice support programmes that build on and strengthen existing local approaches rather than replacing them with imported models.

Popular education 

The educational role of customary palavers highlighted in this study reinforces the importance of nonformal education in peacebuilding. As Freire (1974) argued, meaningful learning emerges from people’s lived experiences. In communities, everyday conflicts over land, family, or livestock become opportunities for dialogue, collective learning, and the transmission of shared values. 

Popular education can support cooperation between customary and formal justice in three ways. First, it can document and strengthen effective local conflict-resolution practices. Second, it can prepare the normative mediators to translate customary approaches into practical tools for community peacebuilding, for example local peace committees. Third, it can equip these mediators with an understanding of the formal justice system, including its procedures, legal safeguards, and avenues for appeal, thereby enabling them to bridge the two systems more effectively.

Towards a model for training normative mediators

Building on Lederach’s (1997) framework of middle-range leadership, this article proposes a three-tiered training model:

• A level of recognition, which seeks to formally acknowledge customary chiefs as legitimate peace actors in their own right.
• A level of translation, aimed at equipping intermediary actors to convert customary agreements into legally recognisable forms.
• A level of institutional dialogue, aimed at creating formal spaces for exchange between customary authorities and judicial institutions.

For such a model to be effective, it must be developed in close collaboration with customary actors themselves, rather than being externally designed for them. The Naaba’s reflective stance - particularly his awareness of both the strengths and the limits of his own authority - constitutes precisely the type of profile on which such training could productively build.

Human rights considerations in customary justice

Customary justice mechanisms offer clear advantages in terms of accessibility, social legitimacy, and the restoration of community relations. However, they also raise important concerns regarding the protection of individual rights, including gender equality, the representation of vulnerable groups, and procedural safeguards - domains that remain persistent challenges in many settings. The objective is not to replace one with the other, but rather to develop complementary mechanisms that reconcile social legitimacy with the protection of fundamental rights.

Conclusion

This article began with a simple scene: a Naaba and his notebook, under a shea tree on an ordinary morning. From this moment emerged a reflection on the conditions under which customary justice and formal justice can mutually reinforce each other in the service of social peace in the rural communes of Burkina Faso.

Four main findings emerge from this study:

• The practical effectiveness and strong social legitimacy of customary conflict-resolution mechanisms in remote areas;
• The alignment between the locally rooted normative logics of kôrô and ligidi and the principles of restorative justice;
• The educational role of customary palaver as a form of non-formal learning; and
• The need for intermediary actors trained to navigate between the two normative orders.In terms of practical recommendations, the article argues for:
• The integration of customary authorities into formal peacebuilding mechanisms, not as supplementary actors but as full partners; and
• The design of training programmes for community mediators that combine locally grounded knowledge and positive [7] law, alongside the creation of institutional spaces for dialogue between customary leaders and formal judicial actors.

On the research front:

• Further work is needed to test this model on a larger scale, compare dynamics across different regions of Burkina Faso, and incorporate the perspectives of women whose roles in customary deliberations require specific analysis; and
• The question of the protection of individual rights within customary mechanisms, particularly regarding gender and social status, remains a priority research area.

Peace in our villages in crisis will not emerge from a single text or a single institution. It is constructed in fragile yet fertile spaces: between the pale ink of an old notebook and the rigor of a legal code, between the words of elders and the law of the state. It is a process of learning to build together, with humility and urgency.

About the Author

Souleymane Tall is a School and University Administration Advisor and holds a Master’s degree in Mediation and Conflict Management from Joseph Ki-Zerbo University, Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. He works at the intersection of emergency education, intercultural mediation, and social cohesion in the Burkinabè context.

References/Further reading

Freire, P. (1974). Pédagogie des opprimés. François Maspero.

Hagberg, S. (1998). Between peace and justice: Dispute settlement between Karaboro agriculturalists and Fulbe agro-pastoralists in Burkina Faso. Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis.

Kohlhagen, D. (2010). Land, conflict and local governance in Burkina Faso. Nordic Africa Institute.

Lederach, J. P. (1997). Building peace: Sustainable reconciliation in divided societies. United States Institute of Peace Press.

Zehr, H. (2002). The little book of restorative justice. Good Books.

Endnotes

1. Also known as vitellaria, this is a traditional African food tree. Village meetings are generally held under shea or baobab trees. 
2. A penal or criminal code is a statutory document that compiles a jurisdiction’s criminal laws. It defines specific offences, outlines the penalties for each, and sets general rules regarding culpability, defences, and the scope of judicial authority. 
3. A normative system is a structured framework of rules, principles, and values that guide and regulate human behaviour. It establishes standards for what is considered acceptable, permissible, or desirable within a society, culture, or organisation. 
4. Pedagogy of the Oppressed: Pedagogia do Oprimido was written in Portuguese between 1967 and 1968, and first published in Spanish in 1968.
5. This term is used in West Africa. Customary palavers are traditional, communitybased gatherings deeply rooted in African customary law, designed to resolve disputes and restore social harmony without violence.
6. A brief, informal written record where researchers or professionals document their immediate thoughts, interpretations, and reflections on collected data.
7. Positive law refers to written rules, statutes, and regulations explicitly created, enacted, and enforced by a recognised human government or legislative body . It is deliberately imposed by human authority and does not depend on moral, religious, or universal natural laws for its validity.

Download the PDF: Learning Peace and Justice Through African Philosophies by Selloane Pitikoe 

This article is rooted in Indigenous knowledge as a theory, which refers to a combination of skills and practices that Indigenous communities acquire over generations through everyday life experiences, relationships, and the specific contexts in which such knowledge is created. In particular, the article seeks to explore the role that Indigenous knowledge institutions can play as instruments of peace in Lesotho.

Although Lesotho, like many postcolonial states, formally recognises state-based judicial systems for conflict resolution and the maintenance of law and order, Indigenous institutions such as lebollo, khotla, borena, and pitso (all explained further below) continue to enjoy social legitimacy and practical relevance within Basotho [1] communities. Despite this, the peacebuilding role of these institutions in Lesotho’s context remains under-researched and under-theorised in African and peacebuilding scholarship. 

The content is structured as follows: it begins with a discussion of my own understanding of peace and its broader meaning, then situates peace within the context of Indigenous knowledge in Lesotho. This is followed by an examination of Indigenous institutions and peace education, and an exploration of King Moshoeshoe I’s [2] teachings on nonviolence. The article concludes by reflecting on the relevance of Indigenous institutions in contemporary peacebuilding scholarship and their potential contribution to global understandings of justice and reconciliation.

Why am I writing this article on peace?

My inspiration to write this article is two-fold. Firstly, it emanates from my rural upbringing as a Mosotho child [3] , where the spirit of Ubuntu shaped everyday life. Ubuntu, an Indigenous framework, embodies collective African principles of care and responsibility - ‘looking after our own.’ I recall the famous phrase: ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ In practice, this meant that a child was not raised by parents alone but by the entire community. Discipline, morality, and peace were instilled at the family level and then replicated across society, creating a moral fabric that bound us together.

Secondly, my involvement in Peace and Justice Education exposed me to diverse peacekeeping methods, including Alternatives to Violence programmes [4]. These experiences broadened my understanding of how communities can resolve conflict without resorting to violence. It was through this lens that I came to appreciate the legacy of King Moshoeshoe I, the founder of the Basotho nation. His leadership was deeply rooted in Lesotho’s Indigenous institutions. These institutions continue to remind us that peace is not merely the absence of war, but a lived practice sustained by culture, values, and community.

In 2005, Johan Galtung [5] introduced a simple yet profound way of understanding peace. He distinguished between negative peace - the absence of direct, physical violence, and positive peace - which conveys a deeper sense of harmony and the removal of social structures that limit human potential. His framework has since become a cornerstone in peace and conflict studies, albeit that his work is largely Eurocentric. It is important to note that Africans have long had their own context-specific ways of understanding peace and conflict. 

Situating peace within Lesotho’s context

Khotso! Pula! Nala! Peace! Rain! Prosperity! To an outsider, these may seem like simple words, but to a Mosotho, they carry the weight of history and identity. This powerful slogan echoes the legacy of King Moshoeshoe I who cherished peace so deeply that it became entwined with his very name. The idiom: Khotso, khaitseli ea Moshoeshoe (peace, the sister of Moshoeshoe) reminds us that peace was not just a value to him, but a kinship bond, as close and vital as family. Peace is equated with blood relations, hence the saying: Chabana sa Khotso - the nation of peace - binding the Basotho together. The term Chabana sa Khomo - the nation of a cow - is also used. Chabana sa Khomo denotes that Basotho are related by blood and through marital relationships whereas, in the latter, khomo is used to pay lobola [6] to welcome the new relatives. A cow is therefore more than an economic asset - its deeper meaning in Lesotho is about relationships, identity, continuity, and connection (socially and spiritually).

For me, Chabana sa Khotso is more than a slogan; it is a living philosophy. It teaches that knowledge and values grow through interaction with family, elders, and the wider community. Observation, participation, and shared responsibility matter as much as formal instruction. Above all, learning is rooted in context and indigenously inherited, passed down through idioms, rituals, and everyday practices.

Reflecting on Moshoeshoe’s vision, I see peace not as an abstract ideal but as a lived reality woven into language, celebrated in community, and carried forward as a moral inheritance. It is this peace that continues to define Basotho identity, reminding us that true prosperity begins with harmony.

Indigenous knowledge

Nyiraruhimbi [7] (2012) identifies three useful ways of understanding Indigenous knowledge. The first is to view it as local science knowledge, deliberately developed over time through familiar tools and practices, such as the use of traditional medicinal plants (Moteetee & Van Wyk, 2011). The second perspective frames it as a local practice, gradually shaped through experience, experimentation, and trial and error, as evidenced in creative activities like arts and crafts. The third understanding sees it as local memory ideas and wisdom internalised through socialisation, storytelling, and folklore.

Drawing from these three categories, I argue that in Africa, including Lesotho, Indigenous institutions stand at the very centre of knowledge creation. They are not static traditions but dynamic systems of learning, rooted in everyday life and sustained across generations. Whether through medicinal practices, communal rituals, or oral storytelling, these institutions embody communities’ lived experiences and ensure that knowledge remains both relevant and resilient.

Indigenous institutions and peace education

The pivotal role of Indigenous institutions in peacekeeping cannot be overemphasised. The pre-colonial era saw African countries with strong, well-institutionalised Indigenous administrative systems deeply aligned with local contexts. For instance, in Cameroon [8], communities resolved their conflicts through the wisdom of community leaders, who relied on past experiences (local practice) and native intelligence acquired through daily interactions (local memory) to mitigate disputes (Olaopa & Okundare, 2023).

Across many African communities, peace is not simply declared; it is lived and celebrated. When conflicts are resolved, the moment is often sealed with solemn oath-taking, sometimes followed by vibrant ceremonies that honour the hard-won reconciliation. In some traditions, the mediator introduces sacred elements of daily life, such as the kolanut or palm wine, and the first bite or sip is taken as a gesture of trust. Each disputant then follows, symbolically sharing in the bond of restored harmony. To refuse is to reject the peace itself. Practices of this nature have been observed in parts of Eastern Nigeria, including among the Aguleri, Umuleri and Umuoba Anam peoples, where ritual acts of unity have accompanied broader peacebuilding processes (Olaopa & Okundare, 2023).

Lesotho, like other African countries, was no exception in its reliance on Indigenous institutions for peacekeeping. Local structures such as khotla (a community court and meeting place for men), borena (kingship), pitso (community gatherings), and lebollo la banna (a rite of passage for males) continue to hold social relevance nationally. This article mainly focuses on lebollo la banna. 

Lebollo is not just about marking the passage of boys into men; it is about shaping identity. It prepares young men for marriage, for leadership, and for the weight of protecting their families and communities. No one could ascend to leadership without first undergoing initiation. That requirement transforms leadership from a privilege into a responsibility, earned through discipline and shared experience. 

History tells us that King Moshoeshoe I, like other Basotho chiefs of old, could not ascend the throne without first undergoing lebollo. This was not a mere formality; it was a rite that shaped him into one of the most prominent African kings, instilling discipline, courage, and a sense of patriotic duty. Today, lebollo continues to hold its revered place among the Basotho, reminding each generation that leadership is not inherited by name alone, but earned through responsibility and sacrifice.

In a world where modernity often overshadows tradition, lebollo teaches us that true education is not about erasing the past, but about carrying forward the values that shape identity and community. It is a call to honour heritage, to recognise that leadership begins with initiation into responsibility, and to embrace the lessons that history continues to whisper through rituals that endure.

This serves as a reminder that knowledge is not confined to books or classrooms. True wisdom is lived; it is passed down through stories told by elders, songs sung during ceremonies, and rituals that bind communities together. In that sense, lebollo is both education and memory, a way of carrying forward the values of courage, loyalty, and patriotism.

King Moshoeshoe I’s spirit of non-violence 

The story of King Moshoeshoe I is fascinating not only for his rise to power but also for the values he carried into leadership. 

A defining feature of King Moshoeshoe I’s leadership was his commitment to nonviolent peacekeeping. History records that cannibals once captured, slaughtered, and ate his grandfather, Peete. Many leaders would have sought revenge, but the King chose a different path. 

He told his men that hunger and poverty had driven the cannibals to such desperate acts. Instead of punishing them, he gave them livestock so they could begin anew. That decision was not a weakness; it was wisdom, a recognition that peace is built not by retaliation but by restoring dignity and livelihood.

The King also rejected discrimination. His words: ‘U seke oare ho moroa moroa tooe!’ (Do not say to a Bushman: You Bushman!) were a call to his people to resist racial prejudice. In essence, he reminded Basotho that humanity is shared, and that leadership must rise above divisions. This notion reflects that King Moshoeshoe I was more than a king. He was a teacher of values, showing that true leadership is rooted in compassion, inclusivity, and the courage to choose peace over vengeance. His story is a reminder that traditions like lebollo were not only about shaping men for leadership but about instilling the moral compass needed to guide communities through conflict.

Conclusion 

Reflecting on these practices, one can argue that Indigenous institutions are more than cultural artifacts: they are living systems of wisdom. They remind us that peace, leadership, and identity are not abstract ideals but responsibilities carried in the body, the memory, and the community. For me, they serve as a call to honour the past while navigating the present, to see reconciliation not as a one-time act but as a lifelong commitment to harmony. These practices continue to offer valuable insights for contemporary approaches to peacebuilding and social cohesion.

About the author

Dr Selloane Pitikoe is a Senior Lecturer in Adult Education at the University of KwaZulu-Natal (UKZN) and serves as Chair Replacement for Peace and Justice Education. She holds qualifications in Adult Education from the National University of Lesotho (NUL) and a PhD in Adult Education from UKZN. She has taught and supervised students from undergraduate to PhD level in Lesotho, Eswatini, and South Africa, and has served as an external examiner across Southern Africa. Beyond academia, she has worked with local and international NGOs on poverty alleviation initiatives in Lesotho, where she played a pioneering role in introducing the Participatory Learning in Action (PLA) approach to support organic farming among Basotho communities. The initiative was later adopted by the Ministry of Agriculture. Dr Pitikoe has published widely on adult education, non-formal education, and inclusive education.

References/Further reading

Galtung, J. (1969). Violence, peace, and peace research. Journal of Peace Research, 6(3), 167-191. 

Moteetee, A., & van Wyk, B. E. (2011). The medical ethnobotany of Lesotho: A review. Bothalia, 41(1), 209-228. 

Nyiraruhimbi, A. (2012). Indigenous approaches to maize production and soil management in Msinga, KwaZulu-Natal Province [Master of Agriculture thesis, University of KwaZuluNatal]. 

Olaopa, O. R., & Ogundare, S. (2023). Traditional leadership, indigenous knowledge, and local governance: Implications for good governance and sustainable development agenda. In S. Kumar & M. Bangalore Lakshminarayana (Eds.), Indigenous people: Traditional practices and modern development (pp. 61-75). IntechOpen. https://doi. org/10.5772/intechopen.1003144

Endnotes

1. Basotho are citizens of Lesotho, united under King Moshoeshoe I in the 19th century. They are distinguished by their language, Sesotho, and by cultural symbols such as the Basotho blanket and the Mokorotlo hat (a type of straw hat). Despite external pressures, they have preserved a strong national identity rooted in unity and resilience.
2. Moshoeshoe I was the first King of Lesotho and is remembered as a leader who prioritised peace by resolving conflict through dialogue, reconciliation, and restraint rather than violence.
3. As a Mosotho child, I was raised within a communal setting that, amongst other, emphasises and instils respect for elders, and unity and collective responsibility alongside personal growth. Our cultural traditions, language, and storytelling shaped my identity and resilience. 
4. The Alternatives to Violence Project (AVP) began in 1975 at Green Haven Prison, New York. It was initiated when inmates requested assistance to reduce physical violence. 
5. Johan Vincent Galtung (1930–2024) was a Norwegian sociologist and one of the founders of peace research. He was instrumental in establishing the Peace Research Institute Oslo (PRIO) in 1959 and founded the Journal of Peace Research in 1964. He pioneered influential concepts including structural violence and the distinction between negative and positive peace, making a major contribution to the development of peace research and the study of conflict and peace worldwide.
6. Bride price or wealth.
7. Agnes Nyiraruhimbi was a Master’s scholar at the University of KwaZulu-Natal. Her 2012 study explored Indigenous knowledge in maize production and soil management in Msinga, central KwaZulu-Natal. Using a qualitative design, she employed focus group discussions and semi-structured interviews to examine local practices.
8. Traditional institutions in Cameroon resolve village conflicts at the community level. Leaders prioritise governance and collective projects over individual concerns. This local approach sustains peace by embedding conflict resolution within communal structures.

Download the PDF: Critical Adult Education for Sustainable Security

Contemporary security challenges are increasingly shaped by interconnected environmental, economic, and social risks that cannot be addressed through state-centred or technocratic approaches alone. As communities face the impacts of climate change, food insecurity, economic exclusion, and social inequality, there is growing recognition that sustainable security depends on the active participation of citizens and the capacity of communities to anticipate, adapt to, and respond to change. This requires new approaches to security governance [1] that strengthen local agency, collective responsibility, and resilience.

Within this context, adult education has an important role to play. Moving beyond the transmission of technical knowledge or prescribed behaviours, critical adult education enables people to analyse their own realities, participate in collective decision-making, and develop locally appropriate responses to shared challenges. By fostering critical thinking, cooperation, and civic engagement, it contributes to more inclusive and participatory forms of security governance.

Drawing on the experience of DVV International Tunisia through the Joint Programme on Accelerating Progress towards Rural Women’s Economic Empowerment (JP-RWEE) (Manai & Rassaa, 2025) [2], this article examines the extent to which critical adult education can contribute to a form of security governance based on civic participation, collective responsibility, and sustainable development. It argues that adult education should be understood not merely as a training tool, but as a mechanism of social transformation capable of strengthening the long-term capacity of citizens and communities to address contemporary security realities.

Rethinking security governance

As political, social, economic, and environmental crises become increasingly interconnected, security has moved to the forefront of development policy, particularly in African contexts. For many years, security policies were shaped primarily by technocratic, institutional, and state-centred approaches. Today, however, these approaches have proven insufficient to address the complexity of today’s security realities. Security can no longer be understood solely as the responsibility of experts or state institutions; it increasingly depends on shared responsibility, civic participation, and collective action.

In this article, security governance is understood as the ways in which public authorities, civil society, and local communities work together to prevent and manage social, environmental, and economic risks. Grounded in human security and sustainable development, it emphasises collective resilience, cooperation, and locally driven responses rather than relying solely on crisis management and law enforcement (UNDRR, 2015) [3].

From this perspective, adult education grounded in a transformative approach [4] becomes a means of strengthening civic participation, enhancing citizens’ agency, and building collective resilience. Rather than focusing solely on the transmission of knowledge, this approach encourages critical reflection, autonomy, and active engagement with the social, environmental, and security challenges that shape everyday life. 

While numerous studies have highlighted the contribution of education to civic responsibility, social cohesion, and sustainable development (UNESCO, 2017), comparatively less attention has been paid to how participatory adult education initiatives may contribute to more inclusive and sustainable forms of community security governance, particularly in African contexts. The experience of DVV International Tunisia through the JP-RWEE provides an illuminating example of how adult education can contribute to social transformation and support community-based approaches to security governance.

The limitations of traditional approaches to security

For decades, security policies have been shaped primarily by technical, regulatory, and institution-centred approaches. Within these largely centralised models, decisions have been designed by experts and public authorities, while citizens’ knowledge, lived experiences, and everyday concerns have played only a limited role. The growing complexity of economic, social, environmental, and public health crises has revealed the limitations of this approach, particularly in African contexts where multiple forms of vulnerability often overlap.

These developments call for a fundamental rethinking of the relationship between citizens and security governance. Rather than relying solely on public institutions for protection, people increasingly seek to participate in decisions that affect their lives and to contribute to locally appropriate solutions. The central question is therefore no longer simply how security can be delivered, but how it can be collectively shaped through cooperation, participation, and shared responsibility.

This shift raises important questions:

• How can security be reconciled with freedom, social justice, and equity? 
• How can policy move beyond approaches centred on control and surveillance towards those that emphasise prevention, resilience, and civic participation? 
• How can citizens become active contributors to security governance rather than passive recipients of public policies? 

Addressing these questions requires a more democratic, inclusive, and locally grounded understanding of security governance.

The Tunisian context illustrates how security is understood through the interconnected dimensions of food security, environmental sustainability, and social cohesion. For many years, agricultural extension services relied on a top-down approach in which technical experts were seen as the primary source of knowledge, promoting standardised farming practices with limited consideration for local conditions or farmers’ experience. The shortcomings of this technocratic model have become increasingly apparent. By promoting standardised solutions to highly diverse contexts, it has often marginalised knowledge developed through generations of local practice while limiting communities’ ability to adapt to rapidly changing conditions driven by climate change, economic uncertainty, and wider social transformation. These limitations have created space for more participatory approaches that recognise local knowledge, collective learning, and community engagement as essential components of both sustainable development and security governance.

The role of adult education

Educational responses to security governance reflect broader debates about the purpose of education. This distinction is reflected in Vare and Scott’s (2007) distinction between education that promotes predetermined behaviours and education that fosters critical inquiry. The former views education as the transmission of knowledge and prescribed practices that encourage compliance with established norms. 

This transmissive model conceives learning as a linear, top-down process in which knowledge produced by ‘experts’ and institutions is transferred to learners to promote adherence to accepted rules, procedures, and behaviours. While effective for such things as disseminating technical information, it leaves limited space for critical reflection, local knowledge, adaptation, or citizens’ lived experiences. This perspective resonates with Foucault’s notion of governmentality (Laborier, 2014). From this viewpoint, security functions as a means of governing populations through institutions, expertise, and norms that shape how individuals understand and regulate their own conduct. Citizens are positioned primarily as subjects of governance rather than as active participants in defining and producing security.

By contrast, the transformative perspective conceives education as a process that enables learners to question, interpret, and respond to complex realities through dialogue, reflection, and collective inquiry. Drawing on Freire’s (2021) conception of education as a practice of freedom, it rejects the ‘banking model’ of education and instead seeks to cultivate critical consciousness. Learning becomes a collaborative process through which people critically engage with their experiences, challenge dominant assumptions, and develop the capacity for democratic participation and collective action. Applied to security governance, this approach equips citizens not only to understand the structural causes of insecurity but also to participate in developing locally appropriate and sustainable responses.

This educational vision is inherently participatory. Adult learners are active partners rather than passive recipients of expert knowledge. Through dialogue, shared experience, and collaborative problem-solving, they connect new knowledge to the realities of everyday life while strengthening their capacity to act collectively. Civic education forms an important dimension of this process by promoting democratic participation, human rights, social responsibility, and awareness of the inequalities that often contribute to insecurity. Adult education for security governance therefore extends beyond knowledge acquisition to develop the critical thinking, cooperation, conflict resolution, and decision-making skills needed to address social, economic, environmental, and digital risks.

This approach fundamentally redefines the relationship between learning and security. Rather than treating security as compliance with externally prescribed practices, it understands security as a collective capacity to interpret local realities, mobilise community knowledge and experience, and develop contextually appropriate and sustainable responses. Its effectiveness, however, depends on supportive institutional and community environments that enable learning to be translated into meaningful participation and collective action in security governance.

Learning from the JP-RWEE project

Within the JP-RWEE project, DVV International Tunisia developed training materials tailored to the needs of rural women and implemented training programmes for members of agricultural professional organisations (APOs). Rather than relying on conventional agricultural extension models based on one-way knowledge transfer, the organisation adopted a participatory learning approach rooted in local realities that recognised participants’ experiential knowledge as a valuable resource (Manai & Rassaa, 2025). Trainers and learners become co-investigators, jointly analyse local challenges and develop context-specific responses. In doing so, the project strengthens participants’ agency, encourages local cooperation, and reinforces community resilience by promoting collective practices of prevention, solidarity, and risk management. It demonstrates a form of security governance in which adult learning plays a key role by strengthening people’s capacity to analyse problems, participate in decision-making, and collectively develop solutions.

The JP-RWEE project’s training programmes foster learning across three complementary dimensions. First, participants acquire technical knowledge related to sustainable natural resource management and climate-resilient agricultural practices. Second, they develop socioemotional competencies, including self-confidence, mutual trust, and the ability to work collectively. Third, these learning experiences are translated into action as participants become trainers within their own communities, sharing knowledge and supporting the emergence of new local learning networks.

The project’s permaculture training programmes illustrate how this educational approach translates into practice. Grounded in observation, ecological understanding, and local adaptation, participants learn to analyse their own environments, assess soil and water conditions, and adapt agricultural practices to local ecological realities. In doing so, they strengthen their capacity not only to manage environmental risks and improve food and livelihood security, but also to participate more actively in decisions about the management of natural resources within their communities. Security therefore becomes a collaborative process of learning, deliberation, and collective action rather than a set of solutions delivered by external experts.

The project also draws on a semio-didactic approach (Manai & Rassaa, 2025) [5], supporting both the co-construction of knowledge and the transformation of social understandings. As participants develop greater autonomy and confidence, they also enhance their capacity to engage collectively in addressing the environmental, economic, and social challenges affecting their communities. The cascade training model extends these benefits beyond the initial participants. As participants became trainers within their own communities, knowledge spreads through local networks, strengthening relationships of trust, mutual support, and collective learning (Manai & Rassaa, 2025).

The JP-RWEE project therefore demonstrates how adult education can contribute to participatory and locally grounded security governance. Security is no longer understood as compliance with externally prescribed practices, but as a collective capacity to understand local contexts, mobilise experiential and local knowledge, participate in decision-making, and develop responses that are both sustainable and locally appropriate. Through this process, adult learning becomes a driver of resilience, cooperation, and community ownership of security and development.

Conclusion

The increasing complexity of contemporary crises highlights the limitations of security policies that rely predominantly on technocratic and institution-centred responses. In a context characterised by interconnected environmental, social, and economic risks, security can no longer be understood solely as the responsibility of public institutions. It must also be conceived as a collective endeavour, sustained by civic participation, shared responsibility, and the capacity of communities to respond to change.

This article has argued that critical adult education represents a key driver of this transformation. By strengthening citizens’ agency, fostering critical reflection, and promoting collaborative learning, it contributes to forms of security governance that are more participatory, inclusive, and resilient. Rather than treating citizens as passive beneficiaries of public policies, it recognises them as active contributors to the production of security and sustainable development.

The JP-RWEE project provides compelling empirical support for this argument. Through participatory learning, the recognition of local and experiential knowledge, and the cascade training model, the project demonstrates how educational practice can strengthen both individual and collective capacities. Participants emerge not only with new technical competencies but also with greater confidence, stronger social networks, and an enhanced ability to act collectively to address environmental, economic, and social issues within their communities.

More broadly, the findings invite us to reconsider the place of adult education within contemporary debates on security governance. Rather than serving merely as an instrument for skills development or a component of development policy, adult education is a democratic practice that strengthens citizens’ capacity to understand complex risks, act collectively, and shape more inclusive and resilient communities. Contemporary security challenges therefore require a renewed vision of adult education - one that moves beyond the transmission of knowledge and prescribed behaviours to support the development of active citizens capable of contributing to sustainable, participatory, and locally grounded forms of security governance.

Future research could usefully examine the long-term impact of participatory adult education initiatives on security governance, social cohesion, and sustainable development in African contexts and beyond. Such work would deepen our understanding of how educational processes contribute to building societies that are not only more secure, but also more just, inclusive, adaptive, and resilient.

About the authors

Salem Saaidia is a Senior Special Education Educator and a PhD candidate in Subject Didactics and Pedagogy at the Virtual University of Tunis. His research focuses on activity analysis for the development of training and professionalisation programmes for adult practitioners working with persons with disabilities and/or individuals in situations of vulnerability.

Kaouther Rassaa is a Senior Lecturer and researcher at the Faculty of Sciences of Tunis, Tunisia. She holds a PhD in Physical Education, and her research focuses on the analysis of learning difficulties and lifelong learning.

References/Further reading

Freire, P. (2023). La pédagogie des opprimés (É. Dupau & M. Kerhoas, Trad.) Agone. Laborier, P. (2014). Gouvernementalité. In J.-F. Bert & J. Lamy (Eds.), Michel Foucault, un héritage critique (pp. 169-181). CNRS Éditions. 

Manai, M., & Rassaa, K. (2025). Les femmes se mobilisent, les communautés avancent : Le programme conjoint « Accélérer les progrès vers l’autonomisation économique des femmes rurales ». Le Journal MOJA pour l’Éducation des Adultes, 3, 23-26.

ONU/UNDRR. (2015). Cadre de Sendai pour la réduction des risques de catastrophe 20152030. Nations Unies.

UNESCO. (2017). L’Éducation en vue des Objectifs de développement durable : Objectifs d’apprentissage. UNESCO.

Vare, P., & Scott, W. (2007). Learning for a change: Exploring the relationship between education and sustainable development. Journal of Education for Sustainable Development, 1(2), 191-198. https://doi. org/10.1177/097340820700100209

Endnotes

1. The concept of human security shifted attention from protecting states to protecting people, emphasizing that security includes economic, social, environmental, and political dimensions (United Nations Development Programme [UNDP], 1994). Building on this perspective, security system governance highlights that effective security depends not only on state institutions but also on accountability, participation, and collaboration among governments, civil society, and communities (OECD, 2023).
2. See Manai, M., & Rassaa, K. (2025). Women rising up, communities moving forward: The Joint Programme on Accelerating Progress towards Rural Women’s Economic Empowerment. MOJA Journal of Adult Education (3).
3. The Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction 2015-2030 (adopted at the Third UN World Conference on Disaster Risk Reduction in Sendai, Japan, on 18 March 2015), outlines seven clear targets and four priorities for action to prevent new and reduce existing disaster risks: (i) Understanding disaster risk; (ii) Strengthening disaster risk governance to manage disaster risk; (iii) Investing in disaster reduction for resilience and; (iv) Enhancing disaster preparedness for effective response, and to “Build Back Better” in recovery, rehabilitation and reconstruction. 
4. Developed by educator Jack Mezirow, transformative learning theory explains how adults draw on new experiences to question and revise their deeply rooted assumptions, beliefs, and frames of reference.
5. The semio-didactic approach (also referred to as the semiotic approach to didactics) combines insights from semiotics (the study of signs, symbols, and meaning-making) and didactics (the theory and practice of teaching and learning). It recognises that learning is a process of co-constructing meaning through signs, symbols, and representations. Rather than simply receiving information, learners actively interpret and make sense of knowledge within their own cultural, social, and linguistic contexts.

Download the PDF: Community Mediation and Adult Learning in Central Mali: Building Peace from the Ground Up

For more than a decade, communities across central Mali have lived with violence, displacement, and deep social divisions. As insecurity escalated, the Malian government and the international community responded with a range of interventions. These responses, largely centred on military action, have had limited success in rebuilding the social fabric that once sustained peaceful coexistence. In response, community leaders began developing their own locally driven initiatives [1]. This is how, amid a prolonged crisis, something significant emerged: communities gradually relearned how to talk to one another, negotiate their differences, and manage conflict collectively. 

Although these processes of building peace ‘from below’ have been examined from many perspectives, they have rarely been understood as forms of social learning and adult education. Local peace agreements illustrate this educational dimension, as the dialogue through which they are negotiated creates opportunities to transform perceptions, rebuild trust, strengthen local capacities, promote civic engagement, and foster new pathways to peaceful coexistence. This article examines the role of these locally driven processes in conflict management and peacebuilding in Mali. It argues that sustainable peace depends not only on national policies and formal institutions but also on endogenous [2], communityled processes that enable learning, dialogue, and collective action.

Security and political context

The conflict that began in northern Mali in 2012 spread to the central regions from 2015 onwards, resulting in central Mali [3] being regarded as the epicentre of violence affecting the country. Taking advantage of the state’s limited presence in many rural areas, armed groups exploited longstanding local grievances and social tensions to establish themselves across extensive rural territories. Having gained control in these areas, the groups imposed their own systems of governance, taxation, and social control.

Despite the deployment of both national and international security forces, violence continued to escalate. In response, many rural communities turned to community self-defence groups, notably traditional hunters from Dogon, Bambara, and other communities - collectively known as the Dozo. Originally organised to provide local protection, these groups multiplied as the security situation deteriorated, contributing in turn to an escalation of violence both within and between communities. It was in this context of communal conflict that local peace initiatives began to emerge. Recognising the limitations of military responses alone, community leaders mobilised at the grassroots level to rebuild social cohesion through locally led action. Thus, were born the community-based peace initiatives that have since become an essential feature of conflict management in central Mali.

Reactivating traditional conflict-resolution mechanisms

The crisis has prompted communities to rediscover traditional mechanisms for resolving disputes - approaches that had often been marginalised as the formal state justice system expanded. Ironically, it took the intensification of violent conflict to expose the limitations of formal judicial institutions in restoring peace and repairing fractured social relationships. This recognition helps explain the renewed interest, evident since the 1990s, among researchers, non-governmental organisations, and regional institutions in Africa’s endogenous approaches to conflict resolution.

Unlike modern judicial systems which tend to emphasise punishment, traditional approaches prioritise reconciliation and the restoration of damaged relationships. Their primary objective is not to punish offenders but to rebuild harmony within the community. In Mali, this philosophy is reflected in customary practices that emphasise forgiveness, dialogue, and symbolic or material forms of reparation. Research on traditional conflict management in Mali, including the work of historian Bintou Sanankoua [4], demonstrates that Indigenous mechanisms for resolving disputes are grounded in principles of forgiveness, restitution, and community mediation. These approaches not only address immediate conflicts but also strengthen social cohesion, rebuild trust, and support peaceful coexistence over the long term.

Likewise, Niagalé Bagayoko and Fahiraman Rodrigue Koné (2017) [5] , argue that:

From the most commonplace disputes to the most exceptional conflicts, traditional mechanisms of conflict management, grounded in customary expertise, help maintain social equilibrium (p.19). 

These observations reflect a longstanding African tradition of resolving disputes through dialogue, mediation, and consensus-building. Long before the emergence of modern states and judicial systems inspired by Western legal traditions, many African societies had developed sophisticated systems of mediation and arbitration based on the moral authority of traditional chiefs, respected elders, and religious leaders. As William Zartman [6] (2000) observes, these institutions played a central role in regulating social relations and maintaining communal cohesion.

When Mali’s political and security crisis evolved into widespread communal conflict, these customary institutions were once again mobilised. Across the country’s central regions, village chiefs, imams [7], traditional leaders, and other respected community figures organised numerous local dialogue initiatives. In many instances, they also succeeded in opening channels of communication between armed groups and local communities.

The search for peace and reconciliation in central Mali has increasingly relied on what is commonly described as a bottom-up peacebuilding approach. Rather than treating local communities as passive recipients of externally designed solutions, this approach places them at the centre of efforts to restore and sustain peace. Its underlying premise is that communities directly affected by conflict possess social, cultural, and institutional resources that can contribute to the long-term resolution of disputes. As John Paul Lederach (1997) argues, durable peace is most likely to emerge when those living with conflict become active participants in rebuilding their own relationships and institutions. This perspective is consistent with the work of Alioune Sall (2007), who argues that Africa’s own endogenous institutions, knowledge systems, and cultural resources should play a central role in addressing contemporary social and political realities. Grounded in dialogue, mediation, arbitration, and consensusbuilding, these mechanisms seek to restore social harmony rather than simply determine winners and losers.

Mediation and negotiation as spaces for adult learning

Local mediators

Government institutions, nongovernmental organisations, and international agencies [8] quickly recognised that sustainable reconciliation required the active participation of local communities. As a result, adult education became an integral part of many peacebuilding programmes, with the aim of professionalising local mediators and equipping them to serve as community educators as well as peacebuilders. Hundreds of traditional authorities, religious leaders, customary chiefs, representatives of women’s and youth organisations, and members of civil society received specialised training. These programmes strengthened their knowledge and practical skills in a broad range of areas, including conflict prevention and management, conflict analysis, mediation and negotiation techniques, the prevention of violent extremism and radicalisation, local governance, civic participation, nonviolent communication, human rights, and international humanitarian law.

By combining contemporary mediation techniques with traditional knowledge, these training initiatives enabled participants to adapt long-established Indigenous practices to new forms of conflict and social tension. Whereas mediators had previously focused on resolving disputes within their own immediate communities, many are now equipped to facilitate negotiations across much larger geographical areas. Since 2017, successive Malian governments have entrusted religious leaders, traditional authorities, and prominent cultural figures to mediate between the various parties involved in conflict across the central regions.

Towards more active citizenship

As local actors became increasingly involved in peacebuilding initiatives, whether through government programmes, civil society organisations or international partners, they also developed a deeper understanding of both the immediate and structural causes of conflict. Through the collective analysis of issues such as climate change, competition over natural resources, insecure land tenure, and poor governance, mediators increasingly came to recognise that conflict arises from human decisions, institutions, and practices rather than from fate or purely religious causes. This growing awareness fostered a stronger sense of civic responsibility. Rather than seeing themselves simply as custodians of tradition, local mediators increasingly began to view themselves as citizens capable of shaping their communities and influencing public life. This evolution represents one of the most important educational dimensions of local peacebuilding. Beyond resolving disputes, mediation has become a process through which individuals develop critical thinking, strengthen their leadership capacities, and acquire a deeper understanding of their responsibilities within society. It is, in effect, a form of adult learning rooted in lived experience, collective reflection, and practical action.

Transformative learning

During mediation sessions, it became apparent that people on all sides of the conflict often associated one another with armed actors, reinforcing fear, mistrust, and collective blame. Dialogue revealed that these perceptions were frequently based on assumptions rather than people’s actual experiences, obscuring the fact that civilians from every community had suffered violence, displacement, and loss.

In numerous localities, including the districts of Koro, Bankass, Djenné, and Niono, mediation helped dismantle these stereotypes by revealing that civilians from all communities had themselves been victims of violence, often perpetrated by the very actors with whom they were presumed to be aligned. This recognition fostered greater empathy, encouraged participants to see one another as fellow victims rather than adversaries, and challenged entrenched narratives of collective blame. In this sense, the dialogue process became a form of transformative [9] learning: participants critically examined longheld assumptions, reframed their understanding of the conflict and of one another, and developed new perspectives that made cooperation and reconciliation possible. One of the most significant achievements of the dialogue process was the gradual transformation of these perceptions.

The inclusion of women and youth 

One of the longstanding limitations of Indigenous conflict-resolution mechanisms was the marginal role assigned to women and young people, whose participation was often restricted by customary norms and cultural practices. Today, however, most local mediation committees and peace-monitoring bodies include representatives from both groups. During mediator training programmes, particular emphasis was placed on recognising the essential contributions that women and young people can make to peacebuilding. This not only enabled them to participate in negotiations, but also prepared them to assume lasting roles in the local structures responsible for maintaining peace after agreements had been concluded.

Local peace agreements

Local peace agreements represent one of the most tangible outcomes of community mediation efforts, offering important insights into the achievements, limitations, and possibilities for national peacebuilding. Mediation efforts often resulted in negotiated compromises commonly referred to as ‘survival agreements.’ In several areas, they led to the lifting of blockades, temporary cessations of hostilities, the resumption of economic activities [10], the return of displaced families, and the restoration of a measure of everyday normality. Although often fragile, these agreements demonstrated that dialogue could reduce violence while strengthening communities’ capacity for collective problem-solving.

At the same time, the agreements reveal important limitations. Many remain highly localised, lack mechanisms for monitoring implementation, and exist in areas where armed groups continue to exercise significant control. Some also contain provisions that conflict with the sovereignty and constitutional authority of the Malian state, making their formal recognition difficult.

Rather than seeking to formalise individual agreements, greater value may lie in the lessons they provide. These mediation processes exposed underlying drivers of conflict, including competition over land and natural resources, environmental degradation, climate change, and longstanding governance deficits. They also generated locally grounded knowledge and practical experience that can inform broader peacebuilding efforts. Beyond their immediate outcomes, they should be understood as dynamic processes of adult learning through which communities acquire new knowledge, strengthen skills in mediation and negotiation, and build greater capacity to manage future disputes collaboratively. Ultimately, one of the principal lessons to emerge is that sustainable peace depends on the interaction between community ownership and national commitment. Grassroots initiatives can lay the foundations for reconciliation and coexistence, but lasting peace requires supportive state institutions and public policies capable of addressing the underlying causes of conflict while building on the knowledge and capacities generated through local peacebuilding processes. 

Conclusion

As the crisis in Mali has become increasingly entrenched, it has become clear that the engagement of local actors is indispensable to conflict management - not only in central Mali but across the wider Sahel. Despite significant structural constraints and an exceptionally challenging security environment, locally led mediation initiatives have played a vital role in repairing the social fabric after more than a decade of instability. They have helped restore dialogue, reduce violence, and create opportunities for communities to rebuild relationships that conflict had severely damaged. At the same time, their long-term effectiveness remains constrained by the continuing influence of armed groups, the limited presence of the state, and the difficulty of integrating local initiatives into national peacebuilding strategies.

Beyond these security concerns and constraints, deeper research highlights a dimension that has received relatively little attention: the educational value of local peace processes. Viewed through the lens of adult learning, mediation and the negotiation of local peace agreements become spaces of community education. In these spaces, traditional authorities, religious leaders, mediators, women, and young people learn collectively, develop new capacities, and reshape their understanding of conflict and coexistence. Seen from this perspective, local peacebuilding initiatives can be processes of social transformation. Communities become the architects of their own peace which can be sustained by incorporating newly acquired skills of conflict resolution and citizenship into the core fabric of community life.

About the author

Hamidou Amadou Ganaba is a researcher and consultant specialising in geopolitics and conflict management, with more than 25 years of professional experience, including 10 years with the United Nations Multidimensional Integrated Stabilization Mission in Mali (MINUSMA). A specialist in political and security dynamics, he has extensive expertise in strategic analysis, mediation, peacebuilding, and capacity development. Throughout his career he has contributed to the design and, in some cases, the implementation of several stabilisation strategies, produced strategic analyses for decision-makers, and facilitated dialogue between government institutions, local communities, and international partners.

Alongside his work as a consultant and researcher, he teaches and develops training programmes for civilian and military professionals. Holding degrees in marketing and communication as well as innovation and social development, he now provides expertise to international organisations, public institutions, and research centres working to advance peace, governance, education, and sustainable development across the Sahel.

References/Further reading 

Autesserre, S. (2014). Peaceland: Conflict resolution and the everyday politics of international intervention. Cambridge University Press.

Autesserre, S. (2021). The frontlines of peace: An insider’s guide to changing the world. Oxford University Press.

Bagayoko, N., & Koné, F. R. (2017). Les mécanismes traditionnels de gestion des conflits en Afrique subsaharienne (Rapport de recherche no. 2). Centre FrancoPaix en résolution des conflits et missions de paix, Chaire Raoul-Dandurand en études stratégiques et diplomatiques, Université du Québec à Montréal.

Lederach, J. P. (1997). Building peace: Sustainable reconciliation in divided societies. United States Institute of Peace Press. 

Pouligny, B. (2006). Ils nous avaient promis la paix: Opérations de l’ONU et populations locales. Presses de Sciences Po.

Sall, A. (2007). Les mutations de la famille en Afrique : Le cas du Sénégal. L’Harmattan.

Thiam, A. (2017). Centre du Mali : Enjeux et dangers d’une crise négligée. Institut du Macina.

Zartman, I. W. (2000). Traditional cures for modern conflicts: African conflict “medicine”. Lynne Rienner Publishers.

Endnotes

1. The limitations of predominantly military approaches to conflict resolution and the rebuilding of social cohesion have been widely documented by several scholars, including Séverine Autesserre, Béatrice Pouligny, and Yahia H. Zoubir. Their work shows that military interventions, when not accompanied by locally driven initiatives for dialogue and reconciliation, struggle to produce lasting peace.
2. Organic, locally led, or bottom-up processes that originate entirely from within a community, rather than being imposed by external organisations or international agencies.
3. The focus of this article is mainly on the regions of central Mali: Ségou, Mopti, San, Douentza and Bandiagara.
4. Bintou Sanankoua is Professor of History at the École Normale Supérieure de Bamako, specialising in the history of Mali in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
5. Bagayoko, N., & Koné, F. R. (2017). Les mécanismes traditionnels de gestion des conflits en Afrique subsaharienne [Traditional conflict management mechanisms in SubSaharan Africa] (Research Report No. 2). Centre FrancoPaix, Raoul-Dandurand Chair of Strategic and Diplomatic Studies, Université du Québec à Montréal. https:// dandurand.uqam.ca/publication/les-mecanismes-traditionnels-de-gestion-des-conflits-en-afrique-subsaharienne/
6. Traditional mechanisms of conflict regulation in Africa have historically been based on mediation, arbitration, consensusbuilding, and palaver (community-based gatherings deeply rooted in African customary law, designed to resolve disputes and restore social harmony without violence), conducted under the authority of customary and religious leaders. Today, these mechanisms continue to provide an important foundation for local governance and social cohesion in many Sahelian societies.
7. An Islamic leadership position. Most commonly, it refers to the worship leader of a mosque and the Muslim community.
8. From the early years of the Malian crisis, as tensions began to erode relations between communities, a number of national and international institutions launched training and capacity-building programmes to enable influential community leaders to become local actors for peace and reconciliation. These included the Ministry of Reconciliation, Peace and National Cohesion/Unity, the École de Maintien de la Paix (Peacekeeping School), the United Nations Multidimensional Integrated Stabilization Mission in Mali (MINUSMA), the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), the Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue, Search for Common Ground, and a range of civil society organisations.
9. Developed by educator Jack Mezirow, transformative learning theory explains how adults use new experiences to question and revise deeply held assumptions, beliefs, and perspectives.
10. Agreements reached in places such as Mondoro (Douentza), Sabèrèdara (Koro) and Kouakouro (Djenné) illustrate this - the suspension of hostilities in exchange for conditions allowing limited socio-economic activity to resume.

Download the PDF: Peace Through Empowerment: Adult Education and Domestic Workers’ Rights in Tunisia by Naouel Chibani

The home is universally perceived as a refuge, a private space where one is supposed to be safe. Yet, for hundreds of thousands of women in Tunisia, this same space becomes a place of vulnerability hidden from public view. As an invisible pillar of the economy, domestic work is carried out behind closed doors, in a grey area where fundamental rights too often cease to exist. This article explores how, through a significant initiative led by DVV International Tunisia and the National Union of Tunisian Women (UNFT), those most affected have been able to challenge exclusion and strengthen their agency. The article argues that adult education is not merely a form of learning but a catalyst for transformation, enabling ‘invisible’ workers to become active and empowered citizens who can challenge the structural inequalities and violence that shape their lives.

Domestic work: An invisible source of national wealth

Whether paid or unpaid, domestic work is a vital pillar of the Tunisian economy. It encompasses a wide range of demanding tasks, including cleaning surfaces requiring specialised care, handling hazardous products, ironing, caring for older persons, and raising children. Yet because this work takes place within the private sphere and is performed predominantly by women, it remains invisible in official statistics and public policy. As a result of this invisibility, domestic workers often lack adequate legal and social protection. Limited access to paid leave, a minimum wage, social security, and retirement benefits, combined with the widespread use of informal employment arrangements, creates conditions in which exploitation can flourish. These systemic inequalities constitute a form of structural violence, perpetuating exclusion by denying women equal rights, protection, and opportunities. Abuse ranges from severe forms of forced labour to more commonplace but deeply entrenched violations, such as unpaid wages, excessive working hours, and the denial of weekly rest days.

Field research

To understand the extent of this insecurity, DVV International Tunisia and the National Union of Tunisian Women conducted a survey of 100 women in Greater Tunis, divided into two groups: 50 paid domestic workers and 50 unpaid housewives. Conducted in late 2020 , during the restrictions imposed by the COVID-19 pandemic (curfews and social distancing), the research required an innovative approach. Participants were selected using a combination of purposive and random sampling. Most were recruited through the UNFT’s existing network, including its support and listening centres for women in vulnerable situations and survivors of violence. Researchers also conducted field visits to streets, transport hubs, shopping centres, and mediation agencies [1] to reach domestic workers. A smaller number of housewives were approached randomly in local markets, souks [2], and supermarkets during weekday morning shopping hours (9:00-11:00 a.m.).

The predefined selection criteria required participants to come from modest or low-income socio-economic backgrounds, and deliberately included women with educational levels ranging from illiteracy to higher education, to capture the diverse realities of women whose domestic work remains largely invisible.

The face of precarity

The survey findings present a stark picture of the realities faced by domestic workers in Tunisia. Many women come from economically disadvantaged regions, particularly the North-West and Central-West, and enter domestic work as a result of poverty or decisions made by male guardians rather than by choice.

For paid domestic workers, insecurity is absolute. Half are paid on a dayto-day basis, earning as little as 10 to 40 dinars [3] with no guarantee of employment from one day to the next. Their economic precarity is compounded by difficult working conditions. Many spend more than two hours commuting each day without reimbursement, and during the COVID-19 pandemic, purchasing protective masks at their own expense. The absence of social protection further deepens their vulnerability, with 80% reporting that they have no health insurance and are therefore left to cope with illness or injury on their own. Unsafe working conditions also pose significant health risks. Limited awareness of occupational safety standards exposes domestic workers to occupational health risks, such as musculoskeletal disorders, skin irritations, and respiratory illnesses caused by prolonged exposure to cleaning chemicals.

Most alarming is the widespread experience of abuse and violence. The survey revealed that 34% of the women experienced problems with employers in this regard:

• Refusal to pay wages (30%)
• Physical violence (28%)
• Verbal abuse (16%)
• Harassment (14%)
• Other (12%).

The above offers a stark glimpse into the harsh realities many domestic workers endure behind closed doors. In the face of such violence and exploitation, silence too often prevails.

While limited or a lack of education contributes to many women’s ability to understand and claim their rights, it is not the only factor. Their precarious situation and vulnerability arises from the intersection of multiple forms of disadvantage. They are women from impoverished backgrounds working for employers who almost invariably possess greater social and economic power. Fear, shame, economic dependence, and the absence of family support frequently prevent them from reporting abuse. Even among the few who seek assistance from the police, justice is rarely obtained. Their vulnerability is further exacerbated by the practices of mediation agencies. Among the 34% of women who paid registration fees in the hope of securing employment, only half ultimately found work, exposing another dimension of economic exploitation. The dependence on poorly regulated mediation agencies reinforces structural violence by entrenching unequal power relations in the recruitment process and deepening workers’ economic vulnerability and exploitation.

Yet even within this system of exploitation, quiet forms of resistance emerge. More than half of the women surveyed (54%) refuse to work on Sundays, asserting their identity as mothers and caregivers before that of subordinates.

Unpaid housewives - every one of whom comes from a modest household - experience a different but equally harmful form of invisibility. They devote an undefined amount of time to household maintenance and childcare, often without access to information (62% read neither books nor newspapers) and disconnected from their family’s financial realities (60% do not know their spouse’s income). Their labour is unpaid, unrecognised, and unvalued.

A clear majority (74%) believe that domestic work should be remunerated. Their responses reveal differing perceptions of who should provide this compensation:

• 38% believe it is the responsibility of the state, in recognition of their contribution to society and the economy.
• 16% believe their husbands should compensate them.
• The remainder (46%) expect support from other family members.

Figure 2 illustrates this paradox - despite being excluded from informational and financial spheres, the women clearly recognise the economic value of their daily labour.

Breaking free from submission: The role of adult education

Far from being passive victims, the women demonstrate remarkable resilience. The survey data - of which only a small part is presented in this article - reveals signs of change emerging beneath the surface. Sixty-four percent of respondents expressed a strong desire for training opportunities to improve their circumstances, while every ‘illiterate’ woman surveyed stated that she wished to learn to read and write.

Experiences from non-formal education initiatives elsewhere in Africa [4] demonstrate that everyday challenges can provide a powerful foundation for designing effective community learning programmes. In Tunisia, the findings of this survey should not remain merely as documented evidence. Rather, they should prompt broader research into the realities faced by women working in this largely unregulated sector and inform the development of educational and support initiatives grounded in the priorities that the women themselves have identified.

Responding to these findings, DVV International and the National Union of Tunisian Women translated the findings into concrete action. In 2025 a training programme was developed to benefit 60 women across four governorates [5], with a particular focus on raising awareness of the new Law No. 37 on domestic work. The broader initiative is structured around three complementary pillars: professional qualification, rights awareness, and financial autonomy. Together, these pillars seek to equip women not only with practical skills but also with the knowledge, confidence, and economic independence needed to exercise their rights and gain greater control over their lives.

Firstly, a recognised certification mechanism should be established. Domestic workers are too often regarded as ‘unskilled labour,’ despite performing tasks that require a wide range of practical and interpersonal skills. Formally recognising these competencies would strengthen the legitimacy of their profession and improve their social and economic standing.

Secondly, raising awareness of labour and legal rights is essential. Limited knowledge of existing rights is both a symptom and a driver of the women’s vulnerability. Equipping them with an understanding of the protections to which they are entitled is a crucial first step towards challenging the silence, exploitation, and impunity that too often characterise the women’s working conditions, including abuse and violence they endure.

Finally, functional literacy could reinforce women’s autonomy in managing contracts, wages, and personal finances. These educational measures should be complemented by legal reforms that guarantee access to social protection, and establish a fair retirement system. 

Together, these interventions would provide women with the skills, knowledge, and institutional support needed to exercise their rights and build more secure futures.

Conclusion

The stories of these 100 women from the Greater Tunis area are more than a collection of troubling statistics: they constitute a call to action. A nonformal education programme rooted in participants’ lived experiences has the potential to become a catalyst for change, enabling women to move from invisibility and vulnerability to empowerment and active participation in shaping their own futures.

In Tunisia, it is time to recognise domestic work for what it truly is: skilled, essential work that deserves the same legal recognition, labour protections, and social security afforded to other forms of employment. Transforming the home from a site of exploitation and violence into a place of safety, dignity, and decent work requires more than education alone. It also demands decisive political action, including dedicated legislation, effective regulation of mediation agencies, robust enforcement of labour standards, and the establishment of comprehensive social protection systems.

Ensuring the full social, economic, and civic inclusion of domestic workers is an urgent matter of social justice. It is a vital step towards building a more equitable and inclusive society - one in which women’s rights are protected, all forms of violence and exploitation are eliminated, and invisible labour is recognised, valued, and afforded the dignity it deserves.

About the author

Naouel Chibani is a Programme Officer at DVV International Tunisia. With more than 10 years’ experience in managing international cooperation projects, she combines her technical expertise as an engineer with a deep understanding of gender issues and adult education. As a field practitioner, she designs and supports initiatives aimed at the socio-economic empowerment of marginalised groups in Tunisia, working closely with government ministries and civil society organisations, particularly the National Union of Tunisian Women (UNFT).

References/Further reading

Bureau International du Travail. (2011). Convention n° 189 sur les travailleuses et travailleurs domestiques. Bureau International du Travail. 

DVV International Tunisie & Union Nationale de la Femme Tunisienne. (2020). Intégration des femmes de ménages et femmes au foyer dans le circuit socio-économique : Rapport d’enquête [Document interne non publié/unpublished]. 

Lekoko, R. N., & Tsayang, G. (2024). Enlivening Botswana’s vision of inclusive economic development through government economic empowerment initiatives: Sham or reality for older adults? In I. Barković Bojanić & A. Erceg (Eds.), Economics and business of aging (pp. 141-154). Josip Juraj Strossmayer University of Osijek. 

Rogers, A. (2004). Non-formal education: Flexible schooling or participatory education? Springer Science & Business Media.

UNESCO. (2016). Rapport mondial de suivi sur l’éducation 2016 : L’éducation pour les peuples et la planète : Créer des futurs durables pour tous. UNESCO.

Endnotes

1. Many domestic workers are recruited through mediation (or placement) agencies that act as intermediaries between workers and households. In the absence of effective regulation and oversight, some agencies have been criticised for facilitating exploitative practices, including misleading recruitment, excessive commissions, and placements without adequate legal safeguards.
2. An open-air marketplace or commercial quarter found in Arab and North African cities, typically featuring stalls selling items such as spices, textiles, and crafts. 
3. Official monetary currency.
4. See, for example: Lekoko, R. N., & Kebatenne, O. (2025). Entrepreneurial seniors: The role of out of school education and training (OSET). MOJA Journal of Adult Education (3) - about successful nonformal education and training initiatives in Botswana.
5. An administrative land division similar to a province or a state.

Download the PDF: The Role of Extension Adult Learning and Education (EALE) in Peacebuilding amidst Contemporary Insecurity in Northern Nigeria by Babangida Ladan and Samuel Solomon

Northern Nigeria faces persistent and complex security issues that continue to severely affect communities, their livelihoods, and socio-economic development. Despite numerous military and political interventions, insecurity remains widespread across the region. This insecurity is rooted in a complex interplay of socioeconomic, political, and environmental factors. Consequently, there is growing recognition that sustainable peace requires approaches that extend beyond military responses to address the underlying causes of conflict and promote long-term stability. This article explores the potential role of Extension Adult Learning and Education (EALE) [1] in peacebuilding efforts in Northern Nigeria. It argues that through EALE’s community-based, participatory, and transformative nature, it can play a significant role in peacebuilding and in fostering peaceful, cohesive, and resilient communities across Northern Nigeria, and, by extension, in other African contexts facing similar issues.

The state of insecurity in Northern Nigeria

The following provides a snapshot of the region’s security issues which, collectively, illustrate the complex and multifaceted nature of insecurity in Northern Nigeria. 

Ongoing reports document widespread attacks, killings, mass abductions, and raids on communities across Northern Nigeria. All 19 northern states and the Federal Capital Territory, Abuja, continue to experience persistent insecurity driven by a combination of ethno-religious tensions, insurgency, banditry [2] , kidnappings, and socio-economic marginalisation. Many analysts contend that this persistent insecurity reflects broader structural weaknesses within the Nigerian state, including corruption, the marginalisation of minority groups, weak governance, and the inadequacies of the country’s security institutions.

The impact of insecurity in Northern Nigeria has been profound, affecting lives, livelihoods, education, healthcare, and broader social systems. Since 2009, conflict, insurgency, and banditry have claimed more than 300,000 lives and displaced approximately three million people, leaving many communities vulnerable to psychological trauma and prolonged humanitarian suffering. Persistent violence has disrupted local economic activities, limited access to essential services, and weakened social cohesion. In many rural areas, insecurity has forced farmers to abandon their fields, while livestock theft and the disruption of local markets have undermined agricultural production and economic activities. Numerous businesses have closed, employment opportunities have declined, and household incomes have been significantly reduced. Recent accounts indicate that many communities continue to experience killings, kidnappings, and the imposition of forced ‘levies’ of naira [3] despite reported peace agreements with armed groups. Women and girls remain especially vulnerable to gender-based violence, including abduction, rape, and sexual exploitation, with far-reaching consequences for their psychosocial well-being and economic security. Education has also been severely affected. Over half of schools in highrisk areas have been closed, destroyed, or left underattended due to attacks and community displacement. 

Understanding the root causes 

Some scholars trace the roots of these issues to colonial legacies of underdevelopment, which have contributed to persistent socioeconomic and political inequalities in the region, while others emphasise more immediate causes, including the proliferation of small arms and the emergence of a ‘war economy’ in which banditry has become profitable through kidnapping for ransom and cattle rustling [4].

Socio-economic factors: In Northern Nigeria, poverty levels remain severe, with many residents lacking access to basic services such as education, healthcare, and clean water. Ongoing insecurity, conflict, and economic hardship have contributed to the displacement of many people from their ancestral homes and traditional livelihoods. There is widespread poverty and unemployment, particularly among young people in rural areas where agriculture and livestock herding constitute the main sources of livelihood. Economic hardship has compelled some individuals to engage in criminal activities as a means of survival, despite the adverse consequences for their communities. According to journalistic accounts and security briefings, many apprehended ‘bandits’ have cited joblessness as a major factor influencing their involvement in banditry. This situation is further compounded by high levels of illiteracy, which limit access to opportunities and increase vulnerability to recruitment by armed groups operating covertly within local settings.

Political factors: Political actors have at times exploited ethnic, religious, and communal divisions for personal, political, or electoral advantage. During election periods, some politicians have been accused of sponsoring armed groups or mobilising youths to engage in violent activities. In response to persistent insecurity, governments have negotiated various peace agreements with armed groups, particularly in conflict-prone states. Although these accords are intended to reduce violence and promote stability, they have sometimes produced unintended consequences. In certain cases, peace agreements have been perceived as rewarding violent actors while overlooking lawabiding citizens. Such perceptions may encourage other groups to resort to violence as a strategy for attracting government attention and securing concessions. Furthermore, weak implementation and a lack of accountability mechanisms have limited the effectiveness and sustainability of many peace accords.

Environmental factors: Land remains a critical source of livelihood for farming and pastoral communities. However, population growth, agricultural expansion, and increasing urbanisation have intensified pressure for available land over the years. As grazing areas continue to diminish, disputes frequently emerge between farmers and herders over land use and resource access. These conflicts often escalate into violent confrontations that result in the loss of life and destruction of property. Similarly, access to water resources has become increasingly contentious in many parts of the region. Rivers, ponds, and other water bodies that sustain agricultural and pastoral activities are under growing strain from population growth, environmental degradation, and changing climatic conditions. Consequently, competition over scarce land and water resources has become a significant driver of inter-community conflicts and farmer-herder clashes in Northern Nigeria.

Peacebuilding from an Extension Adult Learning and Education perspective 

While military and political responses remain important in addressing insecurity, including the deployment of security forces, enforcement of curfews, and government-led dialogue with key stakeholders, there is growing recognition that sustainable peace requires community-based educational interventions. State-led security interventions have largely focused on military containment strategies, which have proven insufficient in addressing the underlying factors that cause and sustain conflict in the region. Effective peacebuilding in Northern Nigeria therefore requires a more holistic approach that extends beyond the existing security responses to address broader political and socioeconomic issues, and the educational and community development needs of affected populations. 

Although not widely recognised, Extension Adult Learning and Education (EALE) should form an integral part of such an approach.

Adults play a critical role in shaping local social relationships, community engagement, and decision-making processes. Through EALE, they can acquire the knowledge, skills, values, and capacities necessary to foster dialogue, strengthen social cohesion, and support sustainable peace within their communities.

While insecurity continues to disrupt formal education systems, EALE - and the non-formal learning opportunities it provides - extends beyond formal institutions and reaches people regardless of location. It is communityoriented, culturally sensitive, and responsive to the lived realities of affected populations, making it suitable for addressing complex social conditions.

Grounded in a participatory approach, EALE is able to support peacebuilding efforts in the following ways:

• Encouraging critical awareness: EALE can help to deepen critical awareness by enabling participants to better understand the structural causes of conflict, including poverty, inequality, unemployment, and social exclusion. It supports efforts of conflict transformation rather than merely conflict management.
• Equipping participants with conflict resolution, communication, and leadership skills: These can help participants to identify early warning signs of conflict and intervene appropriately before disputes escalate into violence. 
• Creating inclusive platforms for dialogue, mediation, reconciliation, and trust-building: These can foster opportunities for peaceful and harmonious coexistence among divided groups, including those with histories of conflict, resentment, trauma, and mistrust. Through engagements such as roundtable discussions and community dialogues, conflicting parties are provided with safe spaces to express their concerns, identify underlying issues, develop mutual understanding, and work towards reconciliation. Such processes help rebuild relationships, restore trust, and promote sustainable peaceful coexistence within communities. One such example is interfaith education in the context of ethno-religious tensions in Northern Nigeria. Through interactive learning sessions, participants can challenge prejudices and stereotypes, develop a deeper understanding of different faiths and cultures, and cultivate mutual respect.
• Implementing adult learning programmes that integrate mental health education linked to peacebuilding is essential for providing emotional support and healing to participants affected by conflict and trauma. Such programmes can help individuals develop coping mechanisms, build resilience, and foster positive relationships, thereby contributing to social cohesion and sustainable peace within their communities.
• Providing vocational and livelihood-focused training that equips adults with practical skills for sustainable livelihoods and economic resilience: Examples include improved agricultural practices, modern retail knowledge and skills, and value-chain marketing techniques. Expanding income-generating opportunities and strengthening self-reliance can help reduce economic hardship, which is often linked to increased vulnerability to violence, criminal activities, and social instability.
• Strengthening civic participation: As stated earlier, EALE can contribute to peacebuilding as a complementary approach that goes beyond security interventions. Civic education can equip adults with the knowledge, skills, and confidence to engage in local governance processes and hold authorities accountable. 

Conclusion

The persistence of insecurity in Northern Nigeria highlights the limitations of relying solely on military and political responses to achieve lasting peace. While security interventions remain necessary, addressing the root causes of conflict requires complementary approaches that empower communities and promote social transformation. EALE offers such an approach by equipping adults with critical awareness, conflict resolution skills, livelihood opportunities, civic competencies, and platforms for dialogue and reconciliation. Through its emphasis on participation, inclusion, and community engagement, EALE can contribute significantly to strengthening social cohesion, fostering resilience, and addressing the socio-economic conditions that often fuel conflict. Integrating EALE into broader peacebuilding initiatives can therefore enhance efforts to build more peaceful, inclusive, and sustainable communities across Northern Nigeria, and, more broadly, across Africa.

About the authors

Dr Babangida Ladan is an Associate Professor in the Department of Adult Education and Community Services at Bayero University, Kano, Nigeria, where he teaches and supervises postgraduate research in Adult and Extension Education. His areas of expertise include adult education, extension education, innovation diffusion, and social science research.

He currently serves as the National President of the Nigerian National Council for Adult Education (NNCAE), following previous terms as Assistant Secretary (2015-2018) and Secretary General (2018-2023). Through these roles, he has contributed significantly to advancing adult education policy, research, and professional collaboration in Nigeria. Dr Ladan holds a B.Ed., M.Ed., and PhD in Adult and Extension Education from Bayero University. Through his teaching, research, postgraduate supervision, and national leadership, he has made significant contributions to the advancement of adult education in Nigeria.

Dr Ladan is also deeply rooted in his community as a farmer and kola nut trader, balancing his academic life with active participation in agricultural entrepreneurship.

Pastor Samuel Solomon holds a B.Ed. in Adult Education and Christian Religious Studies from the University of Jos, an M.Ed. in Adult Education (Extension Education) from Bayero University, Kano, and an M.Div. in Theology from the Baptist Theological Seminary, Kaduna. He is Co-Founder and Executive Director of Mercy Helpline Initiative (MHI) - a non-profit organisation, and a Postgraduate Research Assistant at Bayero University. His research focuses on adult and community education, extension education, restorative justice and inmate rehabilitation, faith-based peacebuilding, and sustainable community development. He has published in peer-reviewed journals, presented at national and international conferences, and is a member of the International Association for Community Development (IACD), the Teachers Registration Council of Nigeria (TRCN), and the Nigerian National Council for Adult Education (NNCAE). His work integrates education, theology, and community development to advance locally driven social justice and peacebuilding initiatives in Northern Nigeria.

References /Further reading

Adelore, O., & Majaro-Majesty, H. (2008). Literacy teaching method and peace building in multi-ethnic communities of Nigeria. Australian Journal of Adult Learning, 48(1), 162-187. https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ EJ797570.pdf

Ladan, B., & Solomon, S. (2026). The role of extension education in developing resilient adult learning systems for economic and social transformation in Nigeria. Tropical Journal of Education, 8(1), 21–31. https://doi. org/10.47524/tje.v8i1.32

Omojola, I. O. (2020). Education for peacebuilding in Nigeria. IGWEBUIKE: African Journal of Arts and Humanities, 6(5).

Endnotes

1. EALE refers to community-oriented educational programmes, including literacy education, vocational training, civic education, and extension services, aimed at improving adults’ knowledge, skills, and capacities outside the formal education system, in order to support personal development, community participation, and socio-economic development.
2. A term commonly used in Nigeria, it refers to a highly organised form of violent, largescale criminal enterprise.
3. While individual poor farmers might be extorted for smaller amounts of money, entire rural communities, village clusters, market hubs, and affluent individuals are routinely forced to raise millions of naira (Nigerian currency) collectively to satisfy the financial demands of armed groups. 
4. This refers to the illegal theft and movement of livestock, particularly cattle, often carried out by individuals or organised groups for economic gain.

Download the PDF: Community-led Safety: The Role of Neighbourhood Watch and Adult Education in Botswana by Thapelo Gaolemogwe and Rebecca Nthogo Lekoko

Despite its reputation as one of Africa’s most peaceful countries, Botswana is facing rising crime and growing insecurity. Neighbourhood Watch, locally known as Ntebelele-kego-lebele, is a widely used community safety model aimed at combating crime and enhancing the safety and security of community members. Focusing on the Makgonatsotlhe Neighbourhood Watch (est. 2022), this article examines increasing crime in Gaborone’s [1] Tsholofelo, Phiring, and Ledumanang suburbs, where robbery, housebreaking, theft, drug abuse, and violent crime are exacerbated by poor infrastructure such as unlit streets and vacant plots, leading to heightened residents’ insecurity. The article situates neighbourhood watch within peacebuilding frameworks rooted in African ethics of shared responsibility, notably ‘your pain is my pain.’ By shifting from sole reliance on policing to proactive, community-based ‘eyes on the street’ vigilance, the model draws from long-held cultural peace-making values. The article further argues that adult education can play an important role in strengthening the effectiveness and sustainability of neighbourhood watch initiatives in Botswana. 

Background

Botswana’s peace and security are deeply anchored in long-standing cultural values such as botho and kagiso. These foundational pillars are recognised in Vision 2016 and subsequent national strategies. Botho is an Indigenous philosophy defining a person’s identity and personhood through their relations with others - it is about communal responsibility. Botho promotes humane conduct anchored in care and respect, and rejects antisocial and criminal behaviour. The Government of Botswana incorporated Botho as one of its five national principles - alongside Democracy, Development, Self-reliance, and Unity - to guide national development and interpersonal relations (Republic of Botswana, 1997). Kagiso, a core Setswana [2] concept of peace and security, emphasises communityled unity, shared responsibility, and harmonious living. Kagiso involves a commitment to resolving conflict through negotiation, consensusbuilding, and strengthening traditional community structures (such as the kgotla, where every voice matters) to ensure lasting stability. Peace is understood not as a reactive response to insecurity, but as an ongoing and proactive process that requires deliberate and sustained effort. This understanding was institutionalised through the 1977 Education for Kagisano (Education for Social Harmony) policy, which promoted peace, national unity, and social equity, while recognising that peace is fragile and must be constantly nurtured.

Today, the ideals of Education for Kagisano are becoming increasingly difficult to sustain, not because they have lost relevance, but because Botswana’s education system is struggling to uphold them. In a society founded on kagisano, education is intended to assist in binding individuals to the collective good and strengthen social responsibility. When this bond weakens, the social fabric itself begins to fray. Botswana is experiencing declining academic performance, widespread skills mismatches, and rising unemployment, particularly among the youth. These challenges extend beyond the classroom, contributingto frustration, inequality, and social instability that increasingly threaten peace and security across the country.

Senseless acts of violence further deepen fear and insecurity, undermining the sense of safety highly valued by Batswana [3] . While violent crime occurs nationwide, it disproportionately affects urban areas, particularly cities. Addressing the 2026 Botswana Police Service Annual Senior Officers Conference, Police Commissioner Dinah Marathe warned that escalating violent crime and increasing brutality are threatening public safety, with growing fear gradually eroding community trust and confidence in law enforcement. Marathe further cautioned that this trend poses a serious threat to Botswana’s standing as one of the world’s more peaceful nations (Botlhoko, 2026). 

Netebele-ke-golebele (Eyes on the street)

As communities feel increasingly unsafe, many are turning to a community-centred safety model known as Ntebele-ke-go-lebele, a neighbourhood watch initiative that literally means ‘watch for me and I watch for you.’ Firmly grounded in enduring cultural values, the approach promotes a shared commitment to crime prevention, mutual vigilance, conflict resolution, and a strong commitment to social cohesion expressed in the ethic of ‘your pain is my pain’ - the ability to experience deep empathy by internalising another’s suffering as one’s own (Nussbaum, 2003). By fostering a shared understanding that harm to one affects all, the initiative unites residents around a common purpose and mutual protection, as captured in its very name. Through these ethical foundations, the model mobilises communities for collective safety and reflects what Tyler (2007) describes as a ‘prosocial community,’ where members act together for the well-being of individuals, society, and the broader world.

In an interview, Ms Benana Mokonopi, Chairperson of the Makgonatsotlhe Cluster, explained that home security is a collective responsibility, stating This reflects the African worldview that society is like a spider’s web, disturbing even the smallest strand causes the whole to tremble (Akbar, 1976, as cited in Etieyibo, 2016). 

Peace and insecurity are not individual conditions but shared experiences: when one person lacks safety, fear spreads across the community, and when one attains it, collective confidence grows. Security is thus a communal concern, essential to a healthy society where all, including the most vulnerable, can move freely without fear of crime, drug abuse, or violence. Achieving this requires shared purpose and responsibility, with residents moving beyond sole reliance on the police toward active community vigilance, remaining alert to suspicious persons, vehicles, and activities within their neighbourhoods. 

As communities expand and crime grows more complex, tackling it becomes difficult without a strong collective spirit. Collective thinking enables locally driven responses to specific crime patterns. The image above highlights committed residents working together. It underscores that collaborative forums involving security agencies, local police, the kgotla system, and neighbourhood watch groups are essential for sharing insights and developing proactive crime prevention strategies.

According to Ms Mokonopi, the group works closely with local police to combat crime, treating residents as active partners rather than passive information sources. This approach emphasises trust-based police– community partnerships, moving away from a ‘command-and-control’ model toward a ‘partner and guardian’ role. Regular and open communication between neighbourhood watch groups and the police helps build trust and ensures concerns are addressed early, before they escalate.

The group uses multiple crime prevention strategies, including foot and horse patrols, awareness campaigns, WhatsApp alert systems, and private security support. Foot patrols target crime hotspots such as unlit areas and pathways, with small teams providing a visible deterrent. Horse patrols allow wider coverage and strongly discourage organised crime. WhatsApp groups enable rapid communication and coordinated community response, while private security firms supplement patrols in areas with limited volunteer capacity.

Although Ms Mokonopi reported that the neighbourhood watch operates successfully, its overall effectiveness is constrained by several practical and structural challenges. These include declining volunteer participation due to fatigue, limited resources and equipment, safety risks faced by inadequately trained volunteers, poor infrastructure that enables crime, gaps in coordination with the police, and uncertainties around legal authority and accountability.

What community members say

During interviews with members of the Makgonatsotlhe Neighbourhood Watch, some participants expressed strong feelings of safety, value, and motivation - the group has made a real difference in their daily lives, and the stories are inspiring. 

Ms Gaolatlhe Mary Mosidila, a community member, shared how the neighbourhood watch has changed the way she feels about her neighbourhood.

‘Since joining the Neighbourhood Watch, I feel much safer walking home at night,’ she said. ‘It’s comforting to know we’re all looking out for each other. We’re not just neighbours anymore, we’re a real community. I honestly sleep better knowing there are trusted people keeping an eye on our street.’

Ms Gaolatlhe could not hide her excitement when talking about the changes she’s seen: ‘What really motivates me is seeing actual results,’ she explained. ‘We’ve had fewer break-ins, and you see more people outside greeting each other. Now, when something happens, we know exactly who to call and we know someone will respond.’

Reverend Masego Irene Kabomo, pictured above, a secretary in one of the cluster groups within Makgonatsotlhe, described part of her duty as keeping the spirit of Ntebeleke-go-lebele high, to ensure that it is a trusted collective with visible results. She talked about the role of dedicated volunteers and the incentives given to them. The Reverend recalled a meeting where active volunteers were publicly thanked. ‘It might seem like a small thing,’ she said, ‘but being acknowledged really means a lot. It reminds volunteers that their efforts matter and keeps them motivated. Hearing their stories at meetings makes all of us proud and encourages us to volunteer.’ She added that every story brings something valuable, whether it is new safety tips or better ways to support neighbours. The secretary reiterated the need for collective responsibility, that many volunteers make it possible for them to rotate patrolling. ‘The rotating patrol system really helps,’ she said, ‘no one gets overwhelmed, and that’s why people are happy to stay involved.’

Together, these stories show that the Neighbourhood Watch is about more than safety; it is about connection, cooperation, and caring for one another.

Integrating adult education into neighbourhood watch in Botswana

Adult education, when used as part of a sustained peacebuilding strategy, can help to strengthen security, enhance safety, and support the long-term sustainability of Ntebele-ke-go-lebele initiatives in Botswana, as outlined below.

Key Adult Learning and Education (ALE) Principles in Ntebele-ke-go-lebele

Building shared ownership and purpose 

Adult education can play a role in building shared ownership and purpose in neighbourhood watch initiatives by shaping attitudes, values, and collective action rooted in botho and mutual care. 

‘Your pain is my pain’

Through participatory learning, neighbourhood watch members can reflect on how crime affects everyone socially, economically, and emotionally, and reinforce the belief that community safety benefits all members.

‘Your safety is my safety’

This can be done through adult education forums such as kgotla meetings, workshops, and community dialogues. Such events can help residents internalise a neighbourhood watch initiative as a moral and collective duty rather than a voluntary add-on.

Lived experiences matter

Sessions can be organised for residents to share stories of insecurity, loss, and success in crime prevention. Peer learning through these shared narratives strengthens trust, deepens a sense of common purpose, and motivates collective action.

Informed ownership and sustained engagement

Adult educators can assist residents to participate actively in neighbourhood watch activities, such as safety tips, first aid, legal issues, ways of communicating, amongst other. 

Culture as a thread weaving together collaboration and  public trust

Adult education can be used to promote cultural values of botho, kagiso and kagisano, emphasising the importance of collective action in neighbourhood watch initiatives. 

Conclusion 

Finally, the article shows that Ntebele-ke-go-lebele is not merely a community policing initiative but a culturally grounded peacebuilding practice which can be strengthened through adult education. Anchored in botho, kagiso and kagisano, which encompass the ethic of shared responsibility - ‘your pain is my pain’, ‘your safety is my safety’ - it fosters collective ownership, social cohesion, mutual accountability, and sustained volunteerism. As crime increasingly threatens Botswana’s peace, integrating adult education into community-led security shifts responses from reactive policing to proactive collective vigilance, enhancing the effectiveness, legitimacy, and sustainability of neighbourhood watch, while positioning communities as key agents of lasting peace and security. 

About the authors

Colonel Thapelo Gaolemogwe is a military aviation and security professional with over two decades of service in the Botswana Defence Force. As Commandant of the Air Arm Squadron Officer School, he provides strategic leadership and promotes civil-military relations. His expertise includes air power, defence strategy, peace and security, and leadership development. He holds a Master’s degree in Politics and International Relations from the University of Botswana and is currently pursuing a PhD at STADIO Higher Education, South Africa. His doctoral research explores the use of drone technology as a force multiplier.

Rebecca Nthogo Lekoko is a Full Professor, andragogue, researcher, author, and academic leader committed to lifelong learning, social empowerment, and human dignity. Her work promotes inclusive, rightsbased, and participatory approaches to community development. She has published extensively on lifelong learning, ageing, and community empowerment. Her publications include Entrepreneurial Seniors: The Role of Out of School Education and Training (OSET); Economic Empowerment for Older Adults; Lifelong Learning for Africa’s Older Adults; and Critical Humanistic Pedagogy in Adult Basic Education.

References/Further reading

Bothoko, P. (2026, February 23). Violence fuels fear, undermines public trust - Marathe warns. Mmegi Online.https://www.mmegi. bw/news/violence-fuels-fear-undermines-public-trust-marathe-warns/news

Etieyibo, E., & Chimakonam, J. O. (2016). African philosophy: Past, present, and future. Philosophia Africana, 18(1), 1-7. https://doi. org/10.5840/philafricana20161811

Hendricks, C. (Ed.). (2006). From state security to human security in Southern Africa: Policy research and capacity building challenges (ISS Monograph No. 122). Institute for Security Studies. 

Monitor Reporter. (2023, May 22). Neighbourhood watch programmes can help fight crime. The Monitor. https://www. mmegi.bw/news/neighbourhood-watch-programmes-can-help-fight-crime/news

Nussbaum, B. (2003). Ubuntu: Reflections of a South African on our common humanity. Reflections: The SoL Journal, 4(4), 21-26. https://doi. org/10.1162/152417303322004175

Republic of Botswana. (1997). Vision 2016: A long-term vision for Botswana. Government Printer. 

Tyler, T. R. (2010). Why people cooperate: The role of social motivations. Princeton University Press.

Endnotes

1. Capital city of Botswana.
2. National language of Botswana.
3. Citizens of Botswana.

Download the PDF: Safety, Security, and Peacebuilding in Mauritania: The Role of Adult Learning and Education by Abdoulaye Amadou Diallo

In a Sahelian context shaped by instability and shifting security dynamics, Mauritania stands out as a relatively stable country, despite persistent structural vulnerabilities such as youth unemployment, regional inequalities, and limited access to education and economic opportunities. In some Mauritanian urban and peri-urban areas, concerns have been raised about the influence of transnational extremist ideologies on vulnerable populations. Combined with socio-economic marginalisation, rapid urbanisation, and the weakening of traditional support networks, these factors may increase susceptibility to extremist narratives, although they do not inevitably lead to violent extremism.

These dynamics call for a broader understanding of security. Security cannot be reduced to military or law enforcement measures alone; it must also encompass the social, economic, and educational factors that underpin long-term stability. This is in keeping with the concept of human security, as defined by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) [1], which moves beyond the traditional state-centred understanding of security to focus on protecting and empowering people by addressing the conditions that threaten their lives, livelihoods, and dignity.

Within this broader perspective, Adult Learning and Education (ALE) can play an important role in Mauritania and across the Sahel. By addressing the underlying socio-economic conditions that contribute to insecurity, ALE helps strengthen resilience, social cohesion, and human security. This article examines the role of ALE as a tool for social cohesion, conflict prevention, and peacebuilding. It argues that security-focused approaches alone are insufficient and that inclusive strategies centred on human development are essential for addressing the root causes of insecurity and building more peaceful, resilient, and inclusive societies.

Social cohesion, cultural diversity, and the role of ALE

Mauritania is characterised by rich cultural, linguistic, and social diversity, which is both a national asset and an important foundation for social cohesion. Situated at the crossroads of Sub-Saharan Africa and the Arab world, the country occupies a unique geographical and cultural position that has long been shaped by exchanges between different traditions, identities, and ways of life.

Mauritanian society comprises several communities, including Arabs (Moors), Fulani, Soninké and Wolof peoples. Each has its own language, cultural heritage, traditions, social practices, and forms of knowledge - all of which contribute to the country’s rich national heritage. This pluralism is especially evident in regions where different communities have lived side by side for generations. In these areas, relationships are built on mutual respect, solidarity, cultural exchange, and peaceful coexistence. Such longstanding interaction has strengthened trust between communities and reinforced a shared sense of belonging to one nation.

Maintaining this social fabric requires sustained efforts to promote intercultural dialogue, tolerance, and inclusion. Valuing different cultural identities, respecting linguistic diversity, and ensuring the participation of all communities in economic, social, and political life are essential for strengthening national unity and preserving social peace.

Mauritania’s diversity can be a powerful driver of development and social cohesion when supported by policies and initiatives that promote peaceful coexistence, intercultural dialogue, and the active participation of all communities. Within this context, ALE has an important role to play in peacebuilding. By creating inclusive learning spaces, encouraging dialogue across cultural and social divides, recognising diversity, and fostering mutual respect, ALE helps strengthen more inclusive, resilient, and cohesive communities.

Contemporary approaches to conflict prevention recognise adults as key actors in promoting social cohesion, mediation, and the peaceful transformation of conflict. Rather than focusing only on responding to conflict after it has emerged, these approaches emphasise developing the knowledge, skills, and attitudes needed to identify tensions early, facilitate dialogue, and build trust within and between communities.

ALE supports these objectives by strengthening critical thinking, communication, problem-solving, and active citizenship. These competencies enable individuals and communities to engage constructively with differences, resolve disputes peacefully, and participate more effectively in local decision-making. In doing so, ALE contributes to stronger social cohesion, greater resilience, and more sustainable peace.

In a country where significant territorial and social inequalities persist, ALE also provides an effective means of addressing structural factors that can contribute to instability. Through literacy, vocational education and training, entrepreneurship, and other lifelong learning opportunities, it expands economic and social opportunities, particularly for people who have been excluded from formal education. By improving livelihoods and socio-economic prospects, particularly through vocational training and entrepreneurship, ALE also helps reduce the vulnerabilities that can fuel social tensions. 

In addition, ALE promotes the inclusion of vulnerable groups, including women, young people, refugees, and socially marginalised populations. Strengthening civil society organisations through nonformal adult education further supports local governance, encourages civic participation, and enhances communities’ capacity to address disputes peacefully, including those related to natural resources and access to essential services.

ALE in action 

In Mauritania, the UNDP’s broader concept of human security is reflected in two initiatives implemented by Ensemble pour un avenir meilleur (EPAM) (Together for a Better Future) in the commune [2] of Sebkha in Nouakchott. The first, Support for Vocational Training and Socio-economic Integration of People in Vulnerable Situations (Projet d’appui à la formation professionnelle et à l’insertion des personnes en situation vulnérabilité) (2021-2022), aimed to strengthen participants’ skills, improve their living conditions, and expand opportunities for social and economic inclusion. The second, One Woman, One Trade (Une femme, un métier), launched in 2024, provided vocational training to vulnerable young women in hairdressing and soap making. 

Through training in information technology, tailoring, hairdressing and beauty services, and electrical installation, more than 280 young people, including a substantial proportion of women, acquired practical skills to support their socio-economic integration. For many participants, this training opened pathways to salaried employment, professional internships, and selfemployment, while others established their own income-generating activities.

Together these initiatives demonstrate how ALE can contribute to human security by strengthening livelihoods and economic independence. By equipping vulnerable groups with practical and vocational skills, ALE can help to reduce economic vulnerability, expand opportunities for participation, and strengthen the resilience of individuals, families, and communities.

Limitations and future directions

Despite its significant potential, ALE in Mauritania continues to face structural challenges, including inadequate funding, limited geographical coverage, and a shortage of qualified human resources. These constraints are compounded by the need for stronger coordination among governmental institutions, civil society organisations, and other stakeholders.

To strengthen the contribution of ALE to social cohesion and peacebuilding, the following priorities should be considered:

Integrate non-formal education more fully into national policies as a recognised component of lifelong learning, human development, and social cohesion.

Strengthen the capacities of local actors, particularly civil society organisations, to incorporate conflict prevention and peacebuilding into their programmes. This includes promoting a culture of peace, developing dialogue and mediation skills, and fostering partnerships among communities, public institutions, and civil society at both the local and national levels.

Conclusion

ALE is a powerful means of strengthening social cohesion, preventing conflict, and contributing to sustainable peace. Through more inclusive education policies and active citizen participation, Mauritania can build stronger, more resilient communities that are better equipped to address social and security challenges.

More broadly, this analysis highlights a fundamental principle: lasting security depends not only on security measures but, above all, on human development, social inclusion, and equal opportunities. ALE should be recognised not simply as an educational priority, but as a vital component of efforts to reduce disparities, expand opportunities, and promote peace, resilience, and inclusive, long-term development.

About the author

Abdoulaye Amadou Diallo, better known as Ablaye Diallo, is a teacher, civil society leader, and President of the Ensemble Pour un Avenir Meilleur (EPAM) [Together for a Better Future] association. Under his leadership, EPAM works primarily in the fields of education and training, civic engagement, youth and women’s entrepreneurship, environmental protection, sustainable development, and capacity building for civil society organisations. The association also implements initiatives that promote socio-economic inclusion, social cohesion, active citizenship, and community resilience.

References/Further reading 

Programme des Nations Unies pour le développement. (1994). Rapport mondial sur le développement humain 1994 : Nouvelles dimensions de la sécurité humaine. Oxford University Press.

Endnotes

1. The UNDP identifies two essential aspects of human security: ‘first, safety from such chronic threats as hunger, disease and repression; and second, protection from sudden and hurtful disruptions in the patterns of daily life - whether in homes, in jobs or in communities’ (United Nations Development Programme, 1994, p. 23). United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). (1994). Human development report 1994: New dimensions of human security. Oxford University Press. https://hdr. undp.org/content/human-development-report-1994
2. Municipality.

Download the PDF: Abahlali not Abahambe by Shaheed Mahomed 

I feel so ashamed that 
My fellow worker and her partner 
And child
Are being chased 
Across a border 
Drawn by Cecil John Rhodes

My grief is unbounded 
Because they murdered 
My Mozambican brother 
On a rumour unfounded

A group groomed by 
The CAPS curriculum 
Imported from the USA 
Suddenly applying 
Mathematics to murder 
‘vertical or horizontal, 
Abahambe’ 
While some Socialists 
Are stuck on a machine 
Was it dialysis 
Or paralysis? 
Refusing to name the enemy… 
The mines continue to loot 
While the keyboard warriors reboot 
From cappuccino 
To cappuccino… 
They say it is ‘matcha’
Nowadays…

The SANDF
Protects the malls here 
And the imperial mines 
In the DRC 
Why don’t you see? 
The government 
Protects the big looters 
And now 
The small ones too

I feel so ashamed 
They turned away a 
Zimbabwean woman 
From a clinic 
To die on a pavement 
Next to the mall 
They refused to catch her fall 
They only heard the call 
‘abahambe’

They lost their humanity 
Oh, the insanity 
(even criminals are treated better)

Refuge
Refugee 
A place of safety 
A chance of life 
That could only be 
Gained by 
Crossing a border 
Drawn by Cecil John Rhodes

Yesterday
They said ‘Rhodes must fall’
Today they are the leaders 
Of Abahambe… 
So actually, they only sought 
A place 
At the master’s table 
‘please don’t disconnect my cable 
I need my wifi’ 
At night they cheer for 
The DRC and Ghana 
At the World cup 
By day they 
Hunt Black skins 
From the rest of Africa 
‘Ghana- be gone here’
‘DRC- we don’t want to see you here’
‘Pakistani- pack up and go’
‘Only those trained in misinformation By the USA
Can remain here.’

I am full of hope 
Abahlali meets abahambe, 
Giving direction 
Against the infection, 
Unite the workers, 
Check in on your neighbours 
Form joint committees 
Educate, act, unite… 
The imperialist is the virus 
We, are the cure.

About the author

Shaheed Mahomed coordinates the Volunteer Programme in the Health Promotion and Wellness Unit at the University of the Western Cape. His activism began in 1980 during the school boycotts against ‘gutter education’ - apartheid’s education system designed for Black children, when he served as one of the leaders of the Student Representative Council (SRC). Since then, he has been a Socialist activist, involved in strike support work, a founding member of the Unemployed Workers Movement, a trade union organiser with COSATU, a leader in the Palestine solidarity movement, Chair of the Anti-War Coalition, a member of the Workers International Vanguard League, and a writer and poet.

Abahambe is an isiZulu phrase meaning ‘they must leave’ or ‘they should go.’ It has become a slogan used by anti-migrant movements in South Africa such as March and March and Operation Dudula. Mabahambe is a more direct imperative form, meaning ‘let them leave’ or ‘they must go.’ These movements call for the mass deportation of undocumented migrants, citing concerns about crime, unemployment, and pressure on public services. Many of the protests have resulted in afrophobic* attacks on foreign nationals - whether documented or undocumented - and, in some cases, have turned deadly. *Afrophobia refers specifically to hostility towards African migrants, whereas xenophobia is hostility towards foreigners more generally.

Abahlali is an isiZulu word meaning ‘residents’ or ‘those who live in a place.’ The term is most closely associated with Abahlali baseMjondolo (meaning ‘residents of the shacks’), a grassroots social movement founded in Durban in 2005. The movement seeks to democratise society from below, campaigns for land, housing, and dignity, and opposes xenophobia.

CAPS stands for the Curriculum and Assessment Policy Statement. It is the official national curriculum framework used in South African public schools from Grade R to Grade 12, setting out the content to be taught and the standards for assessment in each subject. CAPS has been critiqued for dampening creativity. 

Rhodes Must Fall was a studentled protest movement that began at the University of Cape Town on 9 March 2015, calling for the removal of a statue commemorating Cecil Rhodes. The campaign soon evolved into a broader movement advocating for the decolonisation of higher education in South Africa. It inspired similar movements at universities both within the country and internationally. Following a University of Cape Town Council decision, the statue was removed on 9 April 2015.