Living on her homestead in Omagalanga, five kilometers outside Oshikuku, Kuku (grandmother) Rita Simeon cares for eight of her eleven grandchildren. Three of these children attend hostel schools outside northern Namibia, but on school holidays they return home. The youngest child, Shagwana, is infected with HIV; Kuku Rita often finds more success with traditional medicines from local plants than western medicine and creams obtained from the clinic and hospital. He is currently on ARV treatment. You would never know what she & her family have been through in the last several years. Three of Rita’s seven children died from HIV/AIDS related complications, and her husband passed away in 2005.

Kuku Rita, stoic and committed, is an excellent example for the grandchildren she loves so dearly and has such high expectations for. The children note their grandmother expects them to be productive and do their part around the homestead. For the children on holiday from Windhoek, the urban country capital, returning to the north means serious work in the field. But Kuku Rita is there, either doing work alongside them or weaving baskets. She has been weaving baskets since she was a young girl at a Roman Catholic Mission, where she learned from the Catholic Sisters. Traditionally, she would weave baskets and leave them at her boyfriend’s homestead, where he would then fill it with gifts.

A great deal of time has passed since then, and life has not always been easy. Kuku Rita made baskets to help pay school fees for her children, and she continues to do the same for her grandchildren. She often apologizes for the baskets produced with what she calls, her “old hands, and old eyes,” claiming they are not as quality as they once were. However, she consistently weaves the best baskets in the group. She is gentle, kind, sincere, and an incredible member of the project.

Meme Valeria has been a project member, along with her eldest sister Pelagia, since the beginning in April 2006. She is a natural leader, gregarious and smart. She brings a great energy to project meetings, and has a wonderful sense of humor. She has one child, he is in secondary school in Windhoek, and her husband works as a cleaner at a bank in Walvis Bay, a coastal town nine hours from home. He comes home every December. This is a common way of life throughout Namibia; husbands and wives living most of the year separated geographically because of work.

There are currently seven people living on her homestead in Omagalanga. They are family, some of whom have been orphaned as a result of HIV/AIDS, and are completing school nearby. Valeria uses the money earned from the project to buy shoes, household items like soap, and for transport costs. She started weaving baskets when she was in her twenties, after watching her grandmother make them since she was a child. Before the Oshikuku Basket Project, she would sell them when she could, but mostly made them for wedding gifts and home use (i.e. sifting mahangu, the traditional millet seed grown in the fields that is used for porridge and traditional drinks, traditional plates, etc).

She is generous with her family, visitors, and in her efforts in basket weaving. She commits herself fully to the activities she is involved in, and is a great example for both her family and other project members.

It is with pride, and a coy smile, Theresia displays her beautiful baskets at each meeting. She enjoys good cooperation within the group, and strives to maintain that. She was one of the first members to take the basket project so seriously, and recognize the significant opportunity available if she made many baskets. The quality did not diminish, however, as the quantity increased.

She has four children, one who remains on the homestead. The other children have grown and two are continuing their studies abroad. She has high expectations for her last born, as well, and if she completes her schoolwork she also practices weaving baskets that are sometimes sold at the project meetings. As with many women, Theresia learned to weave baskets from her mother and grandmother. She collects materials for her unique dyes from difference plants around her homestead. Her contagious laughter, sense of humor, and generosity make all feel immediately welcome when visiting. Her family and friends share her pleasant disposition, and the energy on her homestead is lighter and more jovial then at most homes.

Teopolina Uusiku, 40, was born and raised in Iithindi, just a few kilometers from Oshikuku. Quiet and thoughtful, she may be mistaken as shy, but is gentle. This is evident in her leadership at the basket meetings, as she helps guide the other members with her good understanding of how quality and price are intertwined. She lives with her sister and four nieces and nephews, and is currently, using the money from the basket project to help construct her room on the homestead.

Her baskets are, without question, among the best in the project. Her basket trademarks are a delicate tight weave and her use of pink and lavender dyes she makes with various plants around her homestead. She started making baskets when she was eight years old, learning the techniques in primary school in Oshikuku. Until her membership in the Oshikuku Basket Project, however, she only made baskets for weddings or home use.

Bernadine Shimwandi, mother of 4 boys and widowed, lives on her homestead in Omagalanga (about five kilometers from Oshikuku) with many family living nearby. During our visit, true to form, she welcomed us warmly and ushered us to our traditional mud round house with a grass roof. Slowly, family and neighbors joined as well, and we crammed together in the room, watching Meme Shimwandi weave her basket with determination.

With pride, she told others about the project and displayed her work. It was also with pride she introduced her sons and extended family. Meme Shimwandi is highly motivated and is an example to other project members. She is also business savvy and understands the importance of quality control. She reminds members of that, and isn’t afraid to respectfully call out certain techniques that need improvement. Together with a few other members, she questions the decisions to buy substandard baskets, concerned The Oshikuku Basket Project will not then be associated with only the highest quality baskets. She is pragmatic about the selling price of the baskets, wanting fair prices but understanding an increase in the selling price might mean more money immediately, but less success in the future. She is an asset to the project.

On homesteads in rural villages here, it is rare to find a spirited toddler like the one we met during our visit to the home of Meme Veronica Shikesho. He set the tone for what was a fun and informative visit, after a long 90-minute walk from Oshikuku. Very early, Loide, one of Veronica's eight children, left their Embumba homestead to meet us in Oshikuku and guide us back through the ten kilometers of sand and dried oshanas.

As we arrived and settled in, Mee Veronica, 53, could be heard singing from her sister's neighboring homestead, as she ran home, with her three year old grandson, Paulus. She, one of three sisters in the project, greeted us warmly and gathered her materials to start weaving while we chatted. Born in Oshikuku, her mother taught her and her sisters how to weave traditional baskets. The money generated from the baskets, along with bread sold on Sundays at church, is the sole income and is used to pay school fees of her five children still in primary school. Before her involvement in the project, she tried to sell her baskets to the Catholic sisters at the Roman Catholic Mission, but was often disappointed with the amount of money she received. With quiet pride, she works on a new basket, with two of her children watching and translating, explaining further how the baskets have helped, especially this year when some of their field where traditional food is grown was adversely affected by the flooding.

Told about the project by another member, Mee Yambeko visited a meeting with beautiful baskets that we decided to purchase on the spot. She was overwhelmed by, what felt to us, a modest amount of money for the quality of such basketry, and expressed sincere appreciation in the midst of her near shock. It is the continued humility, gratitude, and quality of baskets she, one of the newest members of the project, displays that has quickly made her a role model for others.

Together with a neighbor in the project, she travels the farthest, approximately 50 kilometres on difficult gravel roads, coming from Oshivandashankatanga, just near the Angolan border. Her mother taught her to weave, but wove with functionality in mind. Mee Yambeko was gifted with a more artistic eye, and began to more intricately weave her own baskets. Like most women, she collects the palm leaves and material for the brown coloring from the land around her homestead. Her family field was mostly destroyed by pests this year, and the money generated from her involvement in the project helps her to buy maize for her family. She has only one child of her own, but lives on a homestead with 17 other family members, five who are in school. Many of her extended family, neighbors, and friends gathered to extend their welcome and join for the group photo. As she so often does, her elderly parents also expressed sincere appreciation for helping sell baskets and also for visiting their home.

In 1989, Lavinia David started weaving baskets, selling them to teachers and at local shops. She grew up with baskets being made around her, but is mostly self-taught and weaves outstanding baskets. She did so for the reason she continues weaving today, to raise money for her family. She pays for school fees, soaps, clothing, and food depending on the amount she makes, for her four children and others who are staying at the homestead, of which there are eight.

Her beautiful, warm, smile paints a youthful and optimistic picture, one which hides the challenges of rural life in the far north of Namibia, 50km from Oshikuku. She welcomed me into her home for what I called, “the basket wedding,” a very generous celebration and an opportunity to proudly introduce me to her family. Staying late into the afternoon, dramatic shadows started to be cast over Oshivandashankatanga by the time I had a lift. We hugged and waved, exchanging promises of an overnight visit to come.

A member since nearly the beginning, Aili Mushiki, 53, joined the project after learning more from friends. Friendly and fair, Aili was a pleasant addition to the group. Learning from her mother, Aili sold to community members before the project to raise funds. People came to her because they knew she wove nice baskets. She uses funds raised for school fees of her children still in school. She is the mother of six children, one passed away.

I arrived late for our visit, but Mee Aili was forgiving and welcomed me warmly into her home, though the visit was shorter than it would have been. With many children running around, it was clear there was never a dull moment and was difficult to clarify who all the children were. As they walked me in the direction of Oshikuku at sundown, we walked passed neighboring homesteads, Mee Aili pointing out where new members live. One young woman, who has witnessed the weaving of Aili for years, would also like to join in the future and joined us during the visit. They finally let me go by bicycle, when nearing Oshikuku, so they could begin their long walk back.

Met by her son early one Oshikuku morning, we walked the 90 minutes to Uugongoampanda. Olingenus, 20, finished his Grade 12 but is trying to improve his marks, and is one of eight children. Her eldest is studying in Kenya, and three are working in other cities. One grandchild, along with the four remaining children, live at home. Mee Aili asked to join the project when her son began his studies in Kenya, because the support they were receiving from him stopped. Prior to joining the project, she only made baskets for home use.

Humble and gentle, she has worked hard to improve her baskets, and uses the money as most do, to help pay for school fees and buy household items, like soap. Her three year old grandson, Tangeni, is clever and energetic. He loved to playfully shout to me “Ino kwata ndje, Ino kwata ndje” which means “you can’t catch me,” in Oshiwambo. Then I would catch him, and he would yell out “Onda tila, Meme Emba, onda tila,” which means “I’m scared!” What may seem like simple play time, is an indicator that Mee Aili is providing excellent care and nurturing his development.

Kuku Teonila Ashipala, 73, is the embodiment of strength many elders must have in rural Namibia. She is the primary caregiver for the 20 children and grandchildren living in her homestead. She no longer goes to church because in the past some of the children would misbehave, not looking after the animals, or fighting, if she left for long. She receives support from her first-born sometimes, and occasionally other children, but for the most part they live only off of her government pension and their land in Onemedhiya. She sold meat and baskets at Oshikuku’s open market in the past, but now her daughter has taken over because of her age. She uses money generated from the basket project to buy simple items for the home, such as sugar and soaps.

She learned to weave baskets in school as a child, living near a mission in Okatana. She worked for some time as a cleaner at the clinic there, when she married in 1957. She and her late husband then moved to Onemedhiya, he died in 1998. Kuku Ashipala is clearly doing the most with what little resources she has, and has strength I have not experienced in few other places in Namibia. Even for our visit, she prepared the largest pot of Omulovo I have ever seen, in addition to chicken, spinach, porridge, and cattle meat. Monika, a young woman in Oshikuku who helps with the project and translation, covered her mouth in shock when we turned the corner to see what she had prepared. We were overwhelmed by her generosity; it was a feast for many, but we were so few. That is how much the basket project means to her, which provides her with a relatively small amount of money.

Rachel Amakutsi, 29, is one of the youngest members of the project, and people have never seen such beautiful baskets come from someone her age. She is shy and it has taken years for her to demonstrate the confidence to help translate and lead basket meetings. We now have a great rapport and working relationship; she will be a major contributing factor to the future success and sustainability of the project.

She lives with her parents and family in Iipumbu, a village near Oshikuku. There are 18 people living on the homestead, and Rachel contributes to her parents pension to help pay for school fees of younger OVC at the home and to buy items needed to home use, like cooking oil and soaps. She learned how to weave by watching her mother and neighbor, kuku Elina, a new project member. The project was the first time she sold baskets. With ease, I stayed for hours laughing and chatting with her and her family, learning more about them and enjoying some time in the village, which I could not visit last year because of the flood waters. I had tried to explain I wanted to see her village during such flooding, but she refused, saying it was impossible to visit, as the waters was waist deep and had a strong undercurrent.

Kuku Elina Uuyuni, 80, is one of the newest members of the project, and is the eldest. Her granddaughter explained Kuku Elina believes she is actually older, but that accurate records were not kept when she was a child. She learned to weave in school as a child, and her baskets are stunning, even though she complains of poor vision now that she is at least 80. She will use any money generated to support family members in her home, of which there are six. Before joining the project, she sold baskets to family or community members, but often would give them away for free. Neighbors to Rachel Amakutsi, she has been instrumental to developing Rachel’s weaving skills.