When he straightens up, some young women have tears in their eyes. Joseph has no arms and legs, only stumps that end at his elbows and thighs. He is sprawled on the pavement in front of Triple-S Sports Bar opposite the Francistown taxi rank. He is in the company of his cousin and wheelchair pusher, Kabelo Molosiwa who helps him in his public performances as he constantly attracts more spectators and curious passersby.
And many who come to see him doing his stuff find themselves enthralled by his marvelous dancing. He dances to kwasa-kwasa music, particularly by local artists. Franco’s music is his favourite, he says.
“I like Franco music because he’s a hit with the locals. So I dance to most of his music,” says the self-taught 25-year-old Tonota-born dancer.
Apart from dancing, he can act, write scripts, sing and operate a computer. People who watch Prince dancing usually feel humbled by his courage and skill. Take Baitshepi Mbulawa, a lively first year student at the Institute of Health Sciences (IHS). She drops P10 in the bag in front of Joseph, and then stands back to admire Joseph.
“This is just amazing. I like dancing. I’ve got all the limbs but I couldn’t do something this.” Another woman remarked: “I’m standing here asking myself what happened to those limbs and how long has he been like that”.
Many people in the crowd watching Joseph on stage‚ ask the same questions. How he lost his limbs, one of a dancer’s most treasured possession and greatest asset. But he was born without limbs.
Joseph is the last born in a family of 10. His father passed away in 1994 when he was only 14. Two of his elder sisters have also died. He is the only child in the family who was born with a disability. In his early childhood, he was under the care of his parents and siblings. “They always liked me, maybe because I brought some fun into the family,” says Prince. “I was never a burden. I’ve always done everything for myself that other people do with their own hands, like washing and eating.” As if to prove it, he drinks from a can of Sprite, gripping the can between his stumps.
Joseph left the country for Zimbabwe in 1986, where he attended a school for children with special needs in Bulawayo. He got a certificate in computer studies. Since then he has been moving in and around the streets of Francistown, his God-given talent the only means of survival. He hangs out at drinking spots around the city, usually earning about P200 a week from his
performance, he says.
Joseph has only two wishes: he wants money to buy musical instruments, and the chance to perform in schools.
“I’m certainly positive that if I can get musical instruments, and a chance to perform, my life would be complete,” he says.
But whatever happens he would not become a beggar because he is a proud young man who believes God has plans for everyone. “Look, He gave me this talent,” he says, roaring with laughter. It is not a bitter jest, but an expression of gratitude because he says he can do anything with his stumps that others do with their hands.
He is been pushed from pillar to post whenever he is applied for a job, but it does not seem to bother him.
“No one is going to employ me because they’ll use my lack of limbs as an excuse,” he says. “But no one can say I can’t dance or sing, so I use the talent God has given me.”
