I remember sitting with my family in our lounge, watching Nelson Mandela’s Walk to freedom. The air was electric, the television glow almost sacred. I can still see him holding Winnie Mandela’s hand, smiling as he stepped into a sea of celebration. In that moment, we weren’t watching history, we were living it. Only later did I understand that what I had witnessed would become one of the defining stories of our time. It revealed something profound to me even as a child: history is not a list of dates and facts; it is a story of courage, choice, and change.
That realisation has never left me. Today, as I work in education, I see how the past continues to shape our understanding of justice, identity, and belonging. History does not sit behind us; it lives within us, guiding how we see, how we teach, and how we build.
This belief lies at the heart of They Fought for Freedom, a series first published nearly three decades ago and now newly revived. When learners open these books, they encounter more than the stories of South Africa’s heroes, they enter a living classroom of courage and conviction. Each narrative reminds us that freedom is not a single moment in history but a responsibility renewed by every generation. It lives on each time a young person recognises themselves in the struggles and triumphs of those who came before.
At Maskew Miller Learning, They Fought for Freedom has become more than a project; it represents what education should be. These stories connect learners to history not as a distant archive but as a compass for the present. They invite reflection and dialogue, prompting learners to ask: What does freedom demand of me? What does justice look like in my community? What is my role in shaping the future?
The humanities; history, languages, and the social sciences are not “soft” or optional subjects. They are the disciplines through which we learn what it means to be human: how we remember, how we reason, and how we find meaning in a world of constant change.
In Same as Ever, Morgan Housel reminds us that while the pace of life has quickened, much remains the same. Human ambition, fear, and hope continue to shape our choices. Knowing history helps us see these continuities clearly. It shows us that progress is rarely about discarding the past but about understanding it deeply enough to move forward wisely. Humanities nurture that understanding, they help us recognise patterns, discern meaning, and situate our present within a larger human story.
In an age of algorithms, automation, and acceleration, these disciplines matter more than ever. They slow us down long enough to think and to listen. They teach us to distinguish between information and insight, between data and wisdom. Progress, after all, is not only about what we build, but also about how we understand and relate to one another.
When we teach learners to study history, we are not asking them to live in the past; we are helping them navigate the present. History teaches them to ask sharper questions, to recognise bias, and to see how culture and power shape their world. A learner who can weigh evidence and think critically is prepared not only for exams, but for life as an engaged citizen.
They Fought for Freedom captures this truth in action. It translates the abstract value of the humanities into lived experience. Through the stories of those who imagined a different South Africa, learners discover that knowledge carries moral weight. It calls them to empathy, reflection, and responsibility.
Humanities build the capacities our century needs most: ethical reasoning, empathy, clear communication, and the courage to lead with humanity. The future will belong not only to those who can code, but to those who can think critically, write clearly, and connect across differences.
We can automate processes, but not purpose. We can code to get efficiency, but not empathy. That is the enduring work of the humanities.
At Maskew Miller Learning, we see ourselves as custodians of stories and stewards of understanding. The books we publish, the voices we amplify, and the knowledge we share all serve one goal: to keep humanity at the heart of education. Because if we lose sight of the human thread, even the most advanced technology will have nothing meaningful left to serve.
About the Author:
Allison Staals is the Head of Languages and Humanities at Maskew Miller Learning. She is an educational leader and Publisher dedicated to advancing inclusive, high-quality learning across South Africa.