The research, led by Negessa Tilahun Shukure with co-authors Mekonen Geleta, Solomon Ijigu, Girma Degaga, and Eftu Fereda, sits within the field of cultural astronomy, sometimes called ethnoastronomy. This discipline examines how societies around the world have observed the sky and embedded those observations in myth, ritual, timekeeping, and practical decision-making. Africa has a long record in this field, from the Namoratunga stone alignments in Kenya, proposed in 1978 as the first archaeoastronomical evidence in sub-Saharan Africa, to studies of the Borana calendar and the weather-forecasting traditions of Borana Oromo and Gujii pastoralists. The Gedeo study adds a richly documented lunar system to this growing body of indigenous astronomical knowledge.

At the heart of the Gedeo system is a sequence of named lunar phases, each carrying its own social meaning and practical consequences. The new moon, known as Sa’imarroo, marks a period in which marriage ceremonies are traditionally prohibited. Intriguingly, the same phase is believed to carry positive implications for childbirth, so the dark of the Moon is simultaneously a time of restraint for weddings and of auspicious expectation for new life. This pairing of prohibition and promise illustrates how the Gedeo interpret the lunar cycle not as a simple clock but as a rhythm of openings and closures in social life.

As the Moon waxes toward its first quarter, the phase called Baate, the social atmosphere shifts. Baate is associated with hope and marks the beginning of periods in which marriage becomes permissible for young men and women. The phase also serves predictive purposes, allowing community members to anticipate what the rest of the lunar month may bring. In effect, the first quarter functions as a threshold: the restrictions of the new moon lift, courtship and ceremony resume, and the community reads the sky for signs of what lies ahead.

The researchers describe a further observational practice that bridges the first quarter and the full moon. As the Moon approaches fullness, Gedeo elders watch for a signal known as Koncora, which prompts preparation for the coming full moon. This detail is significant because it shows that lunar knowledge in Gedeo society is not passive stargazing but an active, institutionalized monitoring practice, with designated elders responsible for tracking the sky and alerting the community. The system depends on trained observers, shared terminology, and a communication network that turns individual observation into collective action.

The full moon, called Goobana, holds the most consequential role in the Gedeo lunar calendar. Culturally, Goobana is interpreted as an indicator for major events that shape communal life: Bagedo, meaning war; Dhukkuba, meaning disease; and Nage’a, meaning peace, which is also associated with Xeena, or rain. In other words, the appearance and character of the full moon are read as omens or signals bearing on conflict, health, and rainfall. For an agricultural society in the highlands, where rain determines the fate of crops and herds, tying the full moon to such forecasts embeds celestial observation directly into survival strategy.

Beyond these named phases, the study emphasizes that lunar cycles influence agricultural activities and communal rituals across the Gedeo year. The Gedeo are renowned for their home-garden agroforestry, a sustainable land-use system in the Gedeo zone that has attracted attention for its socio-ecological benefits. The new research suggests that the timing of farming and ritual work is coordinated with the Moon, so that celestial and terrestrial calendars reinforce one another. This integration of sky-watching with land management exemplifies what scholars of indigenous knowledge describe as knowledge systems that preserve cultural identity while offering perspectives on sustainable living and environmental stewardship.

Methodologically, the study draws on qualitative approaches standard in ethnographic research, working with Gedeo elders whose knowledge anchors the account. The authors acknowledge contributions from Gedeo elders and Gedio communication, and the study received ethical approval from Dilla University, with partial funding from the university under grant number DU/2015/12. The research team, whose members contributed equally in several roles spanning manuscript writing, methodology design, and data collection, note that they used generative AI tools for language correction and illustrative images, with review and responsibility remaining with the authors. The study was published on 15 September 2026 in volume 6 of the journal, as article number 437.

The findings place the Gedeo within a worldwide pattern of sophisticated sky cultures. From the skywatchers of ancient Mexico documented by archaeoastronomer Anthony Aveni to the first-fruits celebrations of the Nguni peoples of southern Africa, societies have long used celestial cycles to regulate ceremony and subsistence. What makes the Gedeo case striking is the completeness of the lunar sequence: a prohibition phase, a hope phase, a preparation signal, and a full-moon oracle, each with a distinct name and function. The system demonstrates that careful, generational observation of the Moon’s phases can yield a framework precise enough to govern when weddings happen, when preparations are made, and how communities brace for war, disease, or welcome rain.

The authors argue that such indigenous knowledge systems deserve attention not only as cultural heritage but as living science. In a region where formal meteorological infrastructure can be distant, lunar-based forecasting and seasonal regulation represent accumulated empirical knowledge tested over generations. Documenting these traditions, the researchers suggest, helps preserve them for younger generations while offering valuable perspectives on sustainable living and environmental stewardship. As the Moon waxes and wanes over the Gedeo highlands, it continues to mark the rhythm of marriages, harvests, and communal hope, a reminder that the sky has long been humanity’s most widely shared calendar.

Subject of Research: The role of lunar phases in the cultural astronomy, social customs, and agricultural practices of Ethiopia's indigenous Gedeo society

Article Title: Cultural astronomy: on the connection between the moon and Gedeo society

Article References: Shukure, N. T., Geleta, M., Ijigu, S., Degaga, G., & Fereda, E. (2026). Cultural astronomy: on the connection between the moon and Gedeo society. SN Social Sciences, 6(9), Article 437. https://doi.org/10.1007/s43545-026-01722-z

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1007/s43545-026-01722-z

Keywords: cultural astronomy, ethnoastronomy, Gedeo society, Ethiopia, lunar phases, indigenous knowledge, new moon, full moon, marriage customs, agriculture, weather forecasting, environmental stewardship

The research, conducted by South African specialist in engagement, communication and stakeholder management Anton Binneman, reflects on roughly a decade of meetings with elders and knowledge holders from Indigenous communities descended from the San. The work took shape in the context of the construction of MeerKAT and the development of SKA-Mid, two major telescope projects in the South African Karoo, and formed part of the environmental and social impact assessment required before these facilities could be built. Rather than treating Indigenous knowledge as a static relic to be catalogued, the study set out to understand how it has changed, what has survived, and how it might enter into genuine dialogue with modern science.

One of the central findings challenges a widespread assumption about traditional knowledge: that it is frozen in time, preserved unchanged from some distant past. Binneman’s work demonstrates the opposite. Indigenous narratives, like the communities that tell them, evolve continuously, incorporating new linguistic, religious and social elements, and today even scientific ones. Stories are retold in changing languages, adapted to new circumstances, and reinterpreted by each generation. What survives is not a fixed text but a living relationship with the sky, one that has bent and reshaped itself under the pressures of colonialism, industrialisation and Westernisation without disappearing entirely.

The practical trigger for the research was the international SKA Observatory’s requirement to assess the environmental and social impact of its new telescope. As part of that process, Binneman investigated the ethnoastronomical knowledge of the communities living around the site. To map what remained of this knowledge and how it had transformed over time, workshops were organised in seven locations around the SKA site. These gatherings involved around 52 elders and knowledge holders recognised as such by their own communities, ensuring that the people consulted carried genuine standing and authority in local eyes.

A crucial entry point for these conversations was the Bleek and Lloyd archive, a remarkable nineteenth-century collection that recorded many San narratives, including stories about the sky, in the late 1800s. During the workshops, participants were shown images of celestial objects together with stories drawn from this archive. The prompt was simple and open-ended: tell us what you see and what stories you know about this object. The activities also included evening observations of the sky itself, and when elders were unable to attend the workshops in person, the team conducted home visits and interviews instead, extending the reach of the study beyond the formal meeting rooms.

Binneman is careful to note that the archive could not simply be used as it stood. The collection is strongly shaped by the beliefs of the white researchers who created it at the time, embedding colonial-era assumptions in its very structure. Instead of treating it as an authoritative record of an authentic past, the project used it as a starting point for dialogue with the communities themselves. The archive supplied fragments and prompts; the living memory of the elders supplied meaning, correction and continuity. This methodological choice, treating historical material as a conversation partner rather than a final authority, became a foundation of the approach that emerged from the work.

The findings reveal a highly selective pattern of continuity. Knowledge connected to everyday life has remained far more vivid than complex cosmological narratives. Venus, for example, is still remembered in the region as boer se horlosie, the farmer’s clock, because its appearances in the morning and evening sky traditionally marked the beginning and end of daily activities. This is astronomy in its most practical and durable form, tied to the rhythms of work and survival rather than to abstract theory. It demonstrates how the most functionally embedded elements of sky knowledge resist erosion even as more elaborate narratives fade.

Elsewhere, only fragments have survived. The Milky Way is still called Hemelstraat, the road in the sky, but few people now connect the name with the old |Xam story of the girl who threw ashes into the heavens so that a little light would be made. Binneman observes that older generations still remember these stories, whereas among younger people they are no longer part of living, practised knowledge. Yet this does not mean the stories have simply vanished. They continue to exist, he explains, but their form has adapted in response to colonialism, industrialisation and Westernisation. The narratives persist as cultural material capable of being reawakened, reinterpreted and passed on in new forms.

Out of this decade of engagement grew the Dialogical Knowledge Renewal Model, the study’s central contribution. The approach deliberately does not attempt to recover a supposedly authentic tradition, an idea the research treats as both impossible and misguided given how knowledge actually evolves. Instead, it brings three sources into structured dialogue: historical archives such as Bleek and Lloyd, the living memory of community elders, and contemporary scientific astronomy. Crucially, the model then returns the results of that process to the local area, so that communities benefit directly from the renewed knowledge rather than merely supplying raw material for outside researchers.

The practical outcomes in the Karoo are already visible. The project has contributed to the training of local astronomy guides and to the development of astrotourism in the region, creating economic and educational pathways rooted in the area’s own heritage. But Binneman emphasises that the impact is also symbolic, and perhaps more profound. Recognising the region’s long history of observing the sky helps communities see the SKA not as the arrival of astronomy in a place where it had never existed, but as a new part of their own history. As he puts it, the work restores dignity to people, because the first astronomers were not those who built MeerKAT or the SKA. In the shadow of dishes tuned to the cosmic dawn, the oldest astronomy of the Karoo is being written back into the record.

Subject of Research: Indigenous San ethnoastronomy and cultural memory in the Square Kilometre Array construction area in South Africa

Article Title: The SKA Project: Just the latest chapter in a story thousands of years old

Article References: The SKA Project: Just the latest chapter in a story thousands of years old. (n.d.). Original publication

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: Not provided

Keywords: SKA Observatory, MeerKAT, San people, ethnoastronomy, Indigenous knowledge, Karoo, cultural memory, Bleek and Lloyd archive, science communication, astrotourism, radio astronomy, South Africa