A red t-shirt, a pen, a purpose: Remembering Mosikare

Ntibinyane Ntibinyane | Friday April 25, 2025 08:30

At the time, I was managing a small but committed team of reporters charged with covering the pulse of northern Botswana, its politics, people, and pressing issues. The job required long hours, sharp instincts, and above all, a deep sense of commitment to the craft of journalism. It was through a close friend and colleague, Oarabile Mosikare, that I first heard Lebogang’s name. Oarabile and I had spent years in the trenches of journalism together, we reported side by side, shared dreams, and at one point worshipped together on Sundays at the Methodist Church. He was like a brother to me. But, strangely, despite our closeness, I had never met his actual brother, Lebogang. One day, in passing conversation, Oarabile mentioned that Lebogang was a trained journalist but unemployed. Without hesitation, I asked him to send his brother to my office. I still remember the day Lebogang walked in. He was wearing a red T-shirt, brown pants, a little unkempt, the way someone might look after months of waiting for a break that never came.

He looked like life had been hard on him, but he carried himself with quiet dignity. He was soft-spoken and polite, with an air of humility. I did no conduct a formal interview. We simply had a conversation, about journalism, politics, and life in Francistown. I made a decision then and there; we would hire him on a freelance basis. His only task was to write stories. I was curious to see what he could do. His first assignment was political, naturally he had an intense interest in politics, which was evident from the start. I do not remember much about the details of that first piece, but I remember how it read. Lebogang’s writing was fluid and elegant. He had a gift for clarity, structure, and tone. For someone who had never published professionally before, he showed maturity. The story needed some editing, as most first drafts do, but the raw talent was unmistakable. He wrote with intention, with care, and with an eye for detail. He was also bold, sometimes fiercely so. Lebogang was not afraid to confront sources, and he often did so head-on in his reporting. His style could be fearless and, at times, confrontational. That was part of his strength, but it was also a point of contention between us on more than one occasion. We did not always agree, especially when I felt that tone or framing might be too sharp or too direct, but I respected his courage and his refusal to be intimidated.

He believed strongly in speaking truth to power, even if it meant stepping on toes. As we continued working together, I began to notice something else. While Lebogang could write about politics, I sensed he had a different strength, his ability to pay attention to detail and his patience made him well-suited to another beat: the courts. So, I made a deliberate decision to assign him more court stories, pulling him away from the politics. And he thrived. Court reporting demands precision, fairness, and a deep respect for process. Lebogang embraced it fully. He found his rhythm covering legal proceedings and at times capturing the human drama that plays out in courtrooms every day. He became a dependable and skilled court reporter, known for his accuracy and respect for the facts. It was a beat he made his own. I worked with Lebogang only for one and half a years in that Francistown bureau. During that time, I watched him grow, steadily, quietly, and with conviction. Even though we often disagreed, particularly about tone, style, and how far a reporter should push a story, those disagreements were never personal. They were rooted in a shared passion for journalism and a mutual respect for the craft. Lebogang stood his ground, and I admired that. He listened, he challenged (me), and he learned. Eventually, Lebogang left Botswana Guardian/Midweek Sun to join Mmegi/The Monitor stable.

As our professional paths diverged, so too did our daily interactions. I no longer worked with him directly, and I could only follow his progress from a distance. But every so often, I would hear from his brother Oarabile, proudly updating me on where Lebogang was writing or what story he was working on. And sometimes, I would stumble upon his byline in the newspapers. Even from afar, I could still recognise his voice in the work, measured, bold, and unflinching. At some point, I would later learn, Lebogang took a step away from journalism to enter the world of party politics. He contested in national elections, another bold move that reflected his deep engagement with public life and the issues he had reported on for years. He did not win, but he did well. But true to his roots, he eventually returned to journalism. It was, perhaps, where he truly belonged. The newsroom, with all its demands, deadlines, and sense of purpose, seemed to call him back. Over the years, Lebogang remained deeply committed to journalism. Like all of us, he had his personal struggles, some known, others perhaps private. Journalism is not a kind's profession; it often demands more than it gives. But he stayed the course. He did not walk away, even when the job became thankless or the stories heavy. He kept writing. He kept showing up. In a profession marked by high turnover and burnout, that kind of endurance deserves to be honoured. Lebogang was not the kind of journalist who chased the spotlight. He was content doing the work, often behind the scenes, quietly contributing to the national conversation with his pen.

He believed in journalism as a public service. He remained active in the field until his final days. That, to me, is a profound testament to who he was. Not just a journalist, but someone who believed in the power of journalism to make sense of a chaotic world. He was not perfect, none of us are, but he was present. He kept writing even when it would have been easier to quit. He stuck around. He will be missed, not only for what he wrote, but for how he lived out the values of our craft; consistency and courage. Ntibinyane Ntibinyane is a former editor of Mmegi and has worked for the Botswana Guardian and the Midweek Sun newspapers as Bureau Chief and investigations editor. He is currently an Assistant Professor of Journalism at MacEwan University in Edmonton, Canada.