Life after SOS
From age one, Gontse Modise, 29, grew up at the Children’s Village in Francistown surrounded by other children, caregivers and a structure.
Yet behind the routines of institutional life was an emotional emptiness that followed her into adulthood. She does not know where she was born. She never knew her biological parents.
“I understood I was an orphan around age 10 because people in the community would always mention it,” she says. “It hit me really bad.”
For many children raised in care institutions, the deepest wounds are not always physical deprivation, but the constant reminder that they are different.
At school, Gontse says children relentlessly mocked them. “They constantly reminded us we were from SOS,” she recalls, adding, “They assumed we were all left in a bin.”
The bullying became unbearable and led to depression and hopelessness. “I was a very angry child.”
Eventually, she stopped going to school in 2012. What followed was years of emotional isolation. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to,” she says. “Most people were judging.”
Though SOS offered counselling services and retreat camps where children could express their feelings, the emotional burden remained heavy.
“Those moments mattered,” she says of the camps. Despite the pain, Gontse says SOS also gave her stability and survival skills. Daily life followed strict routines.
It was school, chores, studying and shared responsibilities. Some caregivers became positive mother figures. Friendships formed there still remain strong today for her.
“Yes, SOS felt like home,” she says. But life after care presented a different challenge altogether. “When you grow up in a boarding-school structure, society is difficult to navigate,” she explains.
Upon leaving SOS, she received household basics and a first-year allowance to help her transition into independence. It was practical support that gave her a foundation, but emotional adjustment was a different ball game altogether.
“I felt alone most of the time,” she says.
Now living in her own apartment and raising three children, Gontse says motherhood changed her understanding of herself. “My children made me realise that I wasn’t the cause of my abandonment,” she says. “I see true love when I look at them.”
For the first time in her life, she says, she experienced unconditional connection. “It gave me purpose,” she says. “For the first time, I had someone to fight for and love without fear.”
But motherhood also comes with uncertainty. “Healing because I know I can break the cycle. Fear because I never had a model for parenting and I’m learning as I go.”
Without parents or extended family support, she faces many parenting struggles alone.
“Not having someone to call for advice when my child is sick or when I don’t know what to do, that is really hard,” she says.
Hoiwever, she remains determined to give her children something she spent much of her childhood searching for: emotional security.
“I want my children to always feel heard,” she says.
Gontse believes many people misunderstand orphans and often respond with pity instead of empathy. “We don’t want pity,” she says. “We want to be treated equally.”
She believes children in care need more than food, shelter and education. “They need one consistent adult who listens without judging and teachers who step in when they are targeted.”
Today, unemployed but resilient, Gontse continues to build a life for herself and her children from the small apartment she proudly calls home.