Picture this: it’s 3000 BCE, and instead of bingeing a Netflix series or endlessly scrolling social media, you’re sitting cross-legged on a reed mat, playing a game with carved stones and a dusty board scratched into the floor. No dice, no hashtags—just strategy, chance, and the occasional smug grin when you win. Believe it or not, that simple pastime has travelled through time, culture, and war to become everything from Monopoly meltdowns to intense Catan showdowns. Board games aren’t just a way to kill time—they’re snapshots of civilisation itself.
The earliest board game we know of is Senet, played in ancient Egypt. We’re talking about a game so old that Cleopatra probably played a round or two before a political meeting. Senet boards have been found in tombs, carved into stone, laid out with care for the afterlife. It wasn’t just fun and games—it symbolised the journey to the afterlife, complete with spiritual overtones and a sense of divine strategy. And just like that, games became more than play—they became philosophy.
Then came the Royal Game of Ur from Mesopotamia, which sounds like a heavy metal band but was actually a race game with beautifully designed boards and intricately crafted pieces. And in India? Chaturanga—an early form of chess—had people plotting their moves centuries before medieval knights turned it into the highbrow sport we know today. The game wasn’t just about kings and pawns. It was about thinking ahead, commanding respect, and teaching nobility to sit still and strategise.
By the time the Roman Empire was in full swing, you had Ludus Latrunculorum, a game of military tactics. Roman soldiers played it to pass the time—and maybe to stay sharp between battles. And in China, Go was already blowing minds. Go looks deceptively simple—black and white stones on a grid—but it’s one of the most complex games ever made, requiring abstract thinking that would make a philosophy professor weep. It’s still played competitively today and hasn’t aged a bit, unlike that dusty copy of Trivial Pursuit in your garage.
Fast forward to the Middle Ages, and Europe was all about chess, backgammon, and a host of other games involving moral lessons, religious symbolism, and patience (a virtue, apparently). These weren’t just casual pastimes—they were tools for teaching and sometimes even subtle ways of practising rebellion under the guise of a fun evening.
Then came the printing press, and with it, the idea that games could be mass-produced. Enter the 18th and 19th centuries, where board games started popping up in parlours, usually with educational messages: teach your kids maths, morality, and good manners while they try to beat you at something called “The Mansion of Happiness.” (No joke—that was a real game.)
By the 20th century, things got real. Monopoly exploded onto the scene during the Great Depression, and for a game that’s meant to be about real estate, it sure does end friendships fast. Cluedo gave us murder-mystery dinner party vibes long before they were trendy, and Scrabble made it socially acceptable to argue about whether “QI” is a real word. (It is. And yes, it will win you the game.)
Then came the 21st century, and the board game renaissance. Suddenly, games weren’t just family-time obligations—they were events. Settlers of Catan turned sheep and wood into hot commodities. Ticket to Ride made railway-building feel glamorous. Pandemic had us saving the world with teamwork, long before we had to do it in real life. And the indie scene exploded, with every theme imaginable getting the board game treatment: bee kingdoms, haunted houses, cult survival—you name it.
What’s fascinating is how board games reflect the time they’re from. War games during wartime. Economic games during recessions. Cooperative games when we crave community. We think we’re playing for fun, but really, we’re processing the world. In cardboard.
And let’s not forget the cultural shift—modern board games now come with lush art, inclusive storytelling, and mechanics that let you be a goat detective or time-travelling pastry chef. It’s not just a roll-and-move affair anymore. Today’s games are immersive, strategic, and sometimes bizarre in the best way.
In South Africa, the board game scene is growing rapidly. Cafés like The Big Box and Timeless Board Games are popping up in Joburg and Cape Town, giving people a space to connect face-to-face over meeples and miniatures. From family braais to nerdy Friday nights, tabletop gaming is becoming part of our cultural landscape too—and it’s not just Monopoly anymore, thank goodness.
So next time someone scoffs at board games as kids’ stuff, remind them they’re sitting in the echo of 5,000 years of cultural exchange, political commentary, and spiritual symbolism. Board games aren’t just what we play—they’re how we’ve evolved. And whether you’re rolling dice, flipping cards, or arguing over rules no one remembers clearly, you’re part of that ongoing story.
