Now at the Nitty Gritty there are two types of patrons. Those who drink and settle their bills, and those who just want to drink and dodge their responsibilities. The latter are generally the scum of the earth.
The rumour has a traceable source but due to lack of time and space we will simply jump a few steps and reveal what this rumour is because it has caused the greatest consternation and concern amongst the fellows. It is whispered that Lerato is a live and practising lesbian. As these things generally go, everyone in the Nitty Gritty knows except Lerato’s mother - Ausi Maggie, who also happens to be the sole proprietor and chief operating hostess of the establishment.
This rumour has brought the elders out in their big, grey long coats. And if there was a kgotla, that is where they would assemble. But alas, we have to make do with the much beloved shebeen, Nitty Gritty, and it is here around the fabled oblong table that we are all gathered - summoned by the elders, who are otherwise known as the executive committee of Tsogang Banna Julle Bliksems Association of Men.
Directly across the oblong table, perched casually on a bar stool, is Lerato. The elders have taken the opportunity of her mother’s absence to summon her to this august gathering of men in long, grey old army coats to reflect the gravity of the occasion.
Every week on Friday between two o’clock and five in the afternoon Ausi Maggie goes for stock at the big wholesalers in town. The elders, in their infinite wisdom, thought this the most opportune time to summon Lerato to this meeting.
Everyone who matters is now seated. Those who do not matter have not been invited because of the simple reason that they have fallen behind with their subscriptions and with their drinking accounts. They have, as a result, fallen out with the elders and senior patrons of the Nitty Gritty.
The assembly is called to order and the meeting begins with the senior elder clearing his throat and downing a tot of something that is meant to prevent further hoarseness.
Then the interrogation begins. “We have brought you here as your elders to try and get to the bottom of what we have heard. What we have heard, my child has brought the tortoise out of its shell in the thick of winter. This news has entered our lives like a bull into a kraal of pregnant cows!”
As the elder talks, there is a lot of nodding of heads in agreement.
LERATO: What gives you the right to even think you can summon me...?
BIG ELDER: Because we are your parents. I hope you haven’t forgotten that as a Motswana child, the whole village is your father and your mother.
LERATO: No, I haven’t forgotten...
BIG ELDER: So please allow us to present the case...well, it’s not really a case. We have heard from certain sources that you practise something that is different from what we are used to when it comes to things of the blankets. A ke bua sentle bagaetsho?
OTHERS: Ya, ya is waar!
LERATO: Things of the blankets? What are you talking about?
BIG ELDER: You are a Motswana child. You were born of Batswana parents so don’t pretend you don’t understand.
LERATO: Look, if we are to understand each other we will have to be a little more open and explicit.
ELDER 2: I agree with her. We must call a spade a spade and not a gigantic spoon.
BIG ELDER: Spoons and spades aside, this thing that we have heard with our collective ears has ached in our heads and will soon find its way to our fragile hearts. We have to deal with it and confront it before it spreads like a cancer all over our bodies.
LERATO: So, in a nutshell, are you worried about your own bodies or my body?
BIG ELDER: This goes beyond the body my child; this goes right down to the soul. My soul, your soul - the very soul of our community and our nation.
LERATO: Ok, so what’s you point?
BIG ELDER: We hear that you are a er...gatweng kana...less being...
LERATO: A what?
ELDER 2: Er...mogolo, e kare gatwe Lesbian in English.
LERATO: Shucks! I don’t believe all this! Is this all about my sexual orientation?
BIG ELDER: Nya, No, no, ga se sex hela. Le gone don’t shout because this is a gathering of civilised people. It is bad enough that we are addressing a child on these deep matters of the blankets.
