Volume 65 December 2026-January 2026 : Social

 As if some part of his body had been seized up, 61-year old Bushi Pheto wakes up every morning to stroll in his well-kept yard. Behind his huge house, a middle aged man routinely sits on a bench, slowly taking sips from a pint of Chibuku. He cuts a forlorn figure. Adjacent, more than 10 wooden benches that pile idly against the wall of a kiosk tell a story. Thus, it`s no longer business as usual and the pile of benches are a sign that he once ran a vibrant shebeen. Pheto has had to adjust to a new way of living so that when January 1 date comes, that is when traditional beer regulations take effect, he is not caught unawares.

 This is because the regulations bar the sale of traditional beer such as Chibuku and other similar brands of sorghum

brewed under licence for commercial purposes from households. Consequently, for Pheto, a former Department of Water Affairs employee, who thrived from the sale of Chibuku from his yard for the past two decades, much rests on what his next move is notwithstanding that he seems to be at his wits end.

 “It is very sad because we (shebeen owners) don`t know what our next move is,” he says. The Gaborone West dweller is a father of four school-going children, aged between six and14 years. He says Chibuku has been his main source of income.

 Shake ga e na profit mme re a patchermo lwapeng, fa motho a reka ka P5 o kgona gorekela bana morogo le one madi a magwinyao sekolong,” literary meaning that thelittle profit from Chibuku helped make

ends meet. Though Pheto owns a kiosk, he laments that some items do not sell as fast as Chibuku. Pheto says government should find a way of accommodating them because Chibuku had for many decades been the main source of income for many poor families. At Turn One, still in G-West, Maria Kgangyarona is busy with her laundry while one of her daughter servescustomers who come in pairs.

The 52-yearoldmother of seven has been running the shebeen since 1990. She says the business was her husband`s brainchild. When they started the business, Chibuku was a profitable commodity. By then, Kgangyarona was a PG Timbers employee. However, when she resigned, she had to swap roles with her husband as the latter joined the formal sector while she took over running of the shebeen.

“I used the profit to send my children to school and I managed to send one to a private school,” she says, pointing to a young man standing by the entrance. Again, the little profit from Chibuku has helped unburden her children, whom she says are now married, from looking after her.

“I am not used to begging and it would be difficult for me to develop a dependency syndrome at my age,” she says. Kgangyarona believes there is need or further consultation. She blames poverty for her plight and feels her future now looks uncertain because she cannot afford to operate from designated selling points that government is proposing. On the other hand, all seems normal and is business as usual in some shebeens around Old Naledi.

 It appears many were only waiting for the January 1 date to start complying. As the clock strikes 11am, Maria Ikopeng`s shebeen is choking with patrons. Across, young boys are busy playing a snooker game because there are no clients. Ikopeng`s is home to a variety of home brews, ranging from brown liquids to creamy thick ones. Like other shebeen operators, Ikopeng, the mother of seven, is quick to point out that despite the little profit, she would not go to bed on an empty stomach.

 “I am against this law because its whole intention is to make us beggars,” charges Ikopeng as her daughter chips in and pulls away a money bag from her pocket to give customers change. Unlike G-West shebeen operators, Ikopeng concedes that the area MP addressed two meetings with all shebeen owners in Old Naledi. However, she is not convinced that government will fulfil its promise to help them secure space in the envisaged designated selling points. Also, she fears that moving out from her dwelling will expose her to criminals. What is the social, psychological and environmental cost of shebeens Notwithstanding, the sale of alcohol from homesteads has had asomewhat devastating social and psychological impact especially on children.

 Studies have shown that most children who stay in homesteads where there are shebeens suffer some sort of abuse by patrons who may subject them to verbal abuse. They may also experience subtle detachment from their immediate physical environment.Further, they are not able to study well because of the noise and may choose to lead a life of recluse or stay away from home for most of their time to avoid such. Neighbours are also subjected to noise or indiscriminate waste disposal from shebeens.

 Again indiscriminate sale of alcohol encourages abuse and children may copy such behavior because of too much exposure and may become indulgent because alcohol is readily available. Also, because of lack of enough ablution facilities, some patrons just urinate anywhere leaving neighbours burdened with the stench. Morally, the sale of Chibuku from homesteads also offends against trade laws notwithstanding that it had not been regulated under such laws. It is against this background that government came up with some laws to regulate the sale of such and move Chibuku and similar brands away from homesteads. Consequently, the Ministry of Trade and Industry took it upon itself to advise the public and concerned business operators to prepare for the changes precipitated by the implementation of the new regulations. In a statement the ministry further states that only traditional beers like mokuru, ila, setopoti, morula and khadi will be sold from households and administered through the Tribal Administration Authority Act under Dikgosi.

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