Held by the Veld: Relational Research, Memory Embodied in Place, and Dreaming Forward

Eva Ross, PhD candidate with the Bio-economy Chair, shares her field notes from the Cederberg

I recently spent time in the Cederberg as part of a shared research journey shaped by co-learning, care, and relational accountability. While the group began with a set of planned methods — food-based activities, participatory mapping, nature walks, talking circles, and a vision board process — we approached them as flexible tools rather than fixed steps. Together, in a participatory process, these approaches were adapted and reshaped in response to what emerged. The process was not linear or rigid, but emergent; guided by relationships with the land, with one another, and with the rhythms of the place.

The collaborative work was grounded in principles that we agreed on. Oom Chris, a community elder, often refers to these as ‘Khoi values’: eerlikheid (honesty), respek (respect), verantwoordelikheid (responsibility) and sorg (care).

Beyond the agenda: co-learning and the in-between spaces

During the food-based activities, something significant began to shift. As we harvested wild herbs, prepared local dishes, and shared plant knowledge, it became clear that expertise flowed in many directions (Photo 1). Reflection circles revealed how much we valued learning from each other. Hierarchies dissolved; instead, horizontal learning could take root, guided by trust and deep listening.

Photo 1: Learning about potato harvesting from the experts

On the 16th of June, we celebrated Youth Day. The day included games, music and a walk with the children to learn about indigenous herbs growing in the veld (Photo 2). Along the way, elders shared stories and knowledge, and we ended by preparing a herbal tea from the plants we foraged. It was a day of connection across generations, honouring the importance of passing on knowledge through shared experience.

One day we paused the research work to celebrate Khoi Day – a day without agenda, without recording, just to be together and honour heritage. We visited a cave with ancestral rock art, burned herbs, and offered prayers to the forebears. Someone found what appeared to be a fire stick: an artefact that felt like a quiet blessing from the ancestors and a symbolic reminder of the fire guiding this research journey. Fireside moments became daily rituals for sharing food, warmth, and conversation. We baked sweet potatoes in hot ashes—like the Khoi once prepared bulbs in the fire (Coetzee, 2015). In honour of this tradition, we also roasted an indigenous bulb, kanelbol, in the coals, remembering and reconnecting with ancestral practices.

Another highlight was the screening of the Kosbaar videos, a series of videos about local foodways co-created with the NGO People and Plants International and the community during a visit in March 2025. We used the opportunity to gather feedback for the final edits, and the response was very positive — people loved seeing their stories and knowledge reflected on screen (Photo 2). The screening also sparked an important discussion about the protection of indigenous knowledge and how to move forward with sharing the films in a way that honours community ownership, consent, and care.

Photo 2: Screening the Kosbaar videos for community feedback in Beukeskraal

Some of the activities sparked a remembering. A few participants mentioned they hadn’t walked in the veld for years. On our nature walks, they shared memories and knowledge of their younger days when they would go to the veld with their parents. As Haupt (2021) writes, memory is often held in the body and reawakened through movement and land-based practice. As such, even those who had initially said, “I don’t know much about veld plants,” found themselves joyfully naming plants and sharing stories—remembered through an embodied presence that the knowledge was never lost, only dormant, and reawakened through being in relationship with the land.

Seeds of change and vision

The realities of place such as the remoteness of the area, the sudden rains that cut off access, and the difficulty of securing drinking water on some days, also became part of this field trip. These are not abstract challenges; they are daily realities shaped by the legacies of dispossession and injustice. Listening to stories of apartheid trauma, forced labour, and food insecurity was emotionally stirring and reaffirmed that research aiming for justice must be rooted in care, accountability, and action — not neutrality.

In the mapping sessions, participants reflected on the loss of land, access to natural resources, and the impacts of historical discrimination on local foodways. But alongside these reflections, stories of survival, pride, and resilience were shared, showing that memory and resistance live on.

The community also created a droom board (dream/vision board) activity in two groups—men and women—inviting drawing, writing, natural materials, and creative expression. Visions included reviving healthy food practices like making butter and cheese from goat’s milk, preserving medicinal plant knowledge, strengthening inter-communal trade, and cultivating practices rooted in dankbaarheid (gratitude).

At the farewell session, we celebrated with a vibrant veldkos salad made from umpichan, karuna, haaskos and spekboom (Photo 3), alongside other local dishes. One woman even began improvising a song about veldkos. Through our conversations, there was a shared sense of gratitude and also a reawakened interest in wild foods and herbs — alongside a strong recognition of the importance of preserving this knowledge, especially for younger generations.

Photo 3: Foraged ingredients for a veldkos salad: umipchan, haaskos, karuna and spekboom

The community also started a small local business, selling ash-baked bread and wild honey. On the final day, packing the first orders was met with much enthusiasm. These small steps opened up bigger questions: How to sustain momentum and continue this work when I have left as well as how to share resources and income generated by the business.

The group expressed a strong desire to continue meeting as a collective, to establish a community fund, and to take ownership of future steps. They plan to continue the work independently, which filled me with gratitude and hope.

A way of knowing and learning rooted in relationship\

The research work moved at the pace of relational accountability — caring, attentive, and transparent. It was shaped by deep listening, sharing and collaboration. Everyone contributed, and along the way, we shared many gifts. One of the most symbolic was the kierie that Oom Chris made for me: a carved walking stick that, in Khoi culture, represents protection, resistance, and resilience (Photo 4). In this journey, it became more than a gift, it became an important principle for indigenous research. A guide for walking intentionally, with knowledge rooted in place and community, and with a reminder of the potential research holds as a form of resistance and a path toward social justice.

Photo 4: The kierie – a symbol of protection, resistance and guidance

For me, the most meaningful moments were found in the in-between spaces: slow walks through the veld (Photo 5), harvesting wild honey and veldkos (Photo 6 and 7), sipping indigenous herbal tea, listening without an agenda. I experienced another way of knowing — what Haupt (2021) calls kithship: rooted in an intimate relationship with the land, where each rock, herb, and footpath is not just known but deeply felt.

Photos 5 – 7: Veld walks, harvesting wild honey and kanelbol

These relationships shaped not only the research, but the way I move through it. As Shawn Wilson (2008) reminds us, respectful research is rooted in relational accountability: a responsibility not to knowledge itself, but to the people and relationships that make the knowledge possible. This way of knowing is rooted in relationship; with nature and with each other. During our gatherings, a simple ritual emerged organically: before each session, we stood in a circle, held hands, and shared a short prayer. This quiet moment became a grounding practice — a symbol of unity, collaboration, and collective intention (Photo 8).

The goodbyes were tender. While the research phase may one day be complete, the relationships and the seeds we are planting will continue to live on.

Photo 8: Holding hands at the beginning of each session became a vital ritual