Botswana Reflections

I’m back from Botswana.

Since I returned, so many people have asked me the same question: “How was it?”

My answer has usually just been, “It was amazing.”

But even that feels too small.

The trip was exhausting, humbling, exciting, and one of the most meaningful experiences I’ve ever had. It is difficult to explain what it felt like to watch something I have worked so hard on become real at a scale I had only imagined before.

Over several weeks, we worked with roughly 1,000 students and teachers across Botswana.

At the beginning of the trip, it could take us close to 40 minutes to get everyone set up and comfortable. By the end, we had gotten the process down to about five minutes.

There were a few moments when I just sat in the back of the classroom and took everything in.

The students were completely locked in. I could see the furrowed brows as they worked through something difficult, the excitement when they figured it out, and students helping one another navigate the experience. By the end of the trip, it felt like I could set everything up, give them the basic instructions, and walk out of the room. They didn’t need someone standing over them and telling them to keep going. They wanted to explore.

Those were some of my favorite moments - just standing in the back, looking across a classroom full of students using something I had spent countless hours building.

For so long, Asobo existed behind my laptop. It was an idea, then a prototype, then something we tested with individual classrooms and small groups. There were many late nights spent changing things that did not work, questioning what we were building, and trying to make the experience a little better.

Then, suddenly, I was standing in a classroom in Botswana watching hundreds of students engage with it.

One student told me that something they had been discussing in class had never made sense before, but it finally clicked while they were using Asobo.

That was incredibly special to hear.

The numbers and data matter, but that one moment captured why I started doing this. Learning struggles are often not about whether a student is capable. Sometimes they need another explanation, another way into the material, or the freedom to work through it at their own pace.

The engagement continued outside our sessions. Students submitted feedback at 7 in the morning and 8 at night on weekends. They explored subjects and skills we had not assigned. They wrote about what they liked, what they wanted us to add, and how the experience could improve.

Many of them didn’t just ask what Asobo could do for them. They asked how they could help us.

And one question kept coming up:

“Are you coming back?”

Students wanted to know whether this would continue or whether it was only a one-time project. I didn’t want to make a promise that I could not keep, but I told them I would do everything I could to return.

That question has stayed with me.

One of the most meaningful experiences happened at Maun Senior Secondary School, where we worked with a group of deaf students and their teacher.

The students were able to begin navigating Asobo independently within minutes and work through the material at their own pace. Their teacher explained some of the challenges they normally face when information has to move from English, to Setswana, and then into sign language.

I want to be careful not to overstate what one session proves. But seeing those students engage with something we had built - in a context I had never anticipated - was incredibly powerful.

It felt like the cherry on top of an already special experience.

It also reminded me how often we build for the people and circumstances we already understand. If we want to create something that expands access to learning, accessibility cannot be an afterthought. We have to listen to the students and teachers whose experiences are different from our own.

The teachers’ response was equally meaningful.

They saw ways Asobo could save them time, align with what they were already teaching, and help them understand which students needed support. One school is now forming a teacher task force and continuing to meet with us every two weeks to train more teachers and students.

That meant a lot to me. It showed that this was becoming more than a demonstration. Local educators wanted to take ownership of it and find ways to make it work for their school.

There was also real interest from regional and national education leaders in continuing the project, including exploring an offline version for rural schools. I don’t want that to overshadow the students and teachers, but it was meaningful to know that the people responsible for the larger system could also see the possibility.

It is honestly surreal to think that something I started building could eventually contribute - even in a small way - to education across an entire country.

When I got on the plane to leave Botswana, I remember sitting there with a huge smile on my face.

I was exhausted. There was still plenty that had gone wrong and even more work waiting for me at home. But I kept thinking about those classrooms, the students’ reviews, the deaf students in Maun, the teachers who wanted to keep training, and the students asking whether I would come back.

For perhaps the first time, I could fully see the impact that Asobo could have.

The trip gave me a kind of confidence that is difficult to manufacture. There are still days when I feel like a 23-year-old trying to figure everything out. But then I remember the students who trusted me with their stories, the teachers who believed in what we were building, and the classrooms where I could step into the back of the room and simply watch learning happen.

I left Botswana feeling proud, but mostly I felt grateful.

Grateful to the students who welcomed us, tried something unfamiliar, and gave us honest feedback.

Grateful to the teachers and school leaders who made space for us and began imagining what could come next.

Grateful to Question Ramontsho, Common Code Foundation, the U.S. Embassy, the Ministry of Child Welfare and Basic Education, and everyone who helped make this project possible.

And especially grateful to Garry, Chanelle, Ahmed, and all of the people on the team whose support made it possible for us to reach so many students.

This was never something I did alone.

The students will continue to have access through the end of Botswana’s school year, and our work with the schools is continuing. There is still a great deal to learn and a great deal to build.

I hope this was only the beginning.

And to every student who asked me if I was coming back: I’m going to do my best.