Remembering the great Lefesto: Anecdotes of a millennial
Keletso Thobega | Friday May 15, 2026 10:18
A few days prior to learning about the passing of former President Festus Mogae, I had been to my hometown, Lobatse, on personal business. I bumped into a childhood friend, and we reminisced about days gone by. We remembered the fun days of playing with bicycles at the BMC quarters where we lived. We remembered how we would walk to the local stadium or Peleng grounds to watch the home-side team, Extension Gunners, which we called ‘Ezimnyama.’ My memory jogged to special times, like when the KTM choir visited our town, and we would dress up for the concerts.
I recall this one time I was given fifty Pula as pocket money, which at that time was a lot of money (during our time, taxi fare was two Pula and bread was three Pula). As the choir prepared to leave, I took my pocket money and asked the conductor to ask the choir to return on stage one last time and sing my favourite choral from them, Mississippi.
They did. The whole hall sang along to the hook, “Mississippi, oh river carry me home!”. I also remembered how, after church, we would sometimes go to the house of our Anglican Church parish pastor, Ntate Mthethwa, in Peleng and enjoy fat cakes with a char sold from his home-based tuck shop. Because he was a man of God, we often joked that he sold magwinya a rapeletsweng!
Another highlight from those early days in Lobatse was President Mogae’s visit to the town.
I don’t remember the story of how and when we started calling him ‘LeFesto’, but our generation of millennials liked nicknames, so it just stuck. All the Presidents but one have had a nickname. I doubt anyone would dare give Rre Masire a nickname. He was an amiable man of the right, but he was also very strict.
I know President Ian Khama was referred to as ‘Tshetla’. I don’t know if it has to do with his fair complexion, or that it is widely believed that he can turn himself into a fly, through a “delicate process”, as he recently said in a podcast. Ha! Masisi was ‘Sisiboy,’ and I recently heard some ma2k refer to the current President as ‘Functus’, probably because of his love for punctuating speeches with Latin terms.
Anyways, I first saw President Mogae live when he visited Lobatse some time in the late 1990s for a commemorative event. I was part of the Band of Hope (which later changed its name to Off the Street). It was a small social group for children run by my mother, Ethel, and some of her acquaintances who shared her passion for community development. The idea was to keep the children distracted from social ills. We probably had major events once or twice a year, but they were something to look forward to and a great occasion for a marching parade for visiting dignitaries.
The girls wore white dresses with a blue, black, and white top, and the boys wore white shirts with that same pattern, representing the flag of Botswana. We would don white canvas sneakers, AKA menangaso, and the girls wore pantyhose stockings and had fancy hairdos. On the occasion of President Festus Mogae’s visit, I was selected with three others to hand him the welcome garland. I was around age 9 or 10, so it was a big deal for me.
When the President eventually arrived with his entourage, we welcomed him excitedly. I did a small curtsey as we had been told to and shook his hand while bending my knee in the traditional Setswana manner to show respect. I recall some newspaper photographers taking pictures as we posed. It was a fleeting, happy moment. After that, we chatted about not washing our hands that day because we had touched Rre Mogae. Ha!
Most of us had only ever seen Rre Mogae in newspaper pictures or government posters in public facilities. This was the late 1990s, and there were no Botswana Television or social media, so we relied on local newspapers or radio for news information. I recall that at our home, my family bought newspapers every week, and that is how I got to see him. I have always enjoyed reading, even as a child, and I voraciously read about Rre Mogae, realising that he is a highly educated man.
At the time, before I understood the complexities of geopolitics and the vicissitudes of life, he was the epitome of the transformative power of education; we believed that to live a good life, you must have read thick books at white people’s institutions! By the time we experienced globalisation and globe-trotting, he had opened our eyes to the comprehension of economics and the richness of our human capital.
Where other African leaders fought and preached against colonialism, apartheid and imperialism, he boldly advanced economic emancipation and personal development.
Most notably, President Mogae was a pragmatic leader. He had the rare genius of meshing theory and practicality. He was practical and sensible. During his time, there was very little populism and rhetoric across governance and the political landscape. Some of the best times many Batswana had were during Mogae’s tenure. Botshelo bo ne bo tobetsega! He quietly instilled hope in Batswana, steering laws and policies that made it possible for more Batswana to have access to opportunities that could help transform their lives. He believed in success for one, success for all, and knew well that a leader has to fight poverty to empower people.
Mogae’s tenure marked a great transition. Our country moved from a humanitarian to an economic approach to development and governance.
In the same breath, he made some unpopular decisions. Who will forget the Marietta Bosch case, the white South African woman who reportedly killed her love rival in Botswana? After a lengthy trial, Mogae signed the writ for the death penalty without flinching. It was an act of principle. Someone had to do it. Another unpopular decision was the demolition of nearly 5,000 homes allegedly occupied by illegal squatters in Mogoditshane.
It was legal but cruel. I still remember the image of one woman who flung herself to the ground, crying like a small child, as the ‘yellow monster’ bulldozed her house. It was heartbreaking. But Mogae never flinched. In the same way, he remained resolute when he firmly ordered Basarwa to move to New Xade, reminding them that they are just like other Batswana. He was also unmoved amidst hostility to the establishment of what was suspected to be a rogue institution, the DIS.
Mogae always remained resolute in the face of criticism. He wasn’t wishy-washy; he always stuck with the decisions he made!
In Botswana’s small society, some people always look for reasons to hate/resent someone, particularly those in leadership. Rre Mogae probably had some nemesis here and there, but it was hard to dislike the man. He was honest, sincere and levelheaded. Personally, I admired his high-minded nature. I am a person who is intellectually inclined and logical, and I have favoured respect for people with that same disposition.
Most notably, former President Mogae will be remembered for the decisive stance he took in response to HIV/AIDS. One of the foremost signs of intelligence is decisiveness: the ability to make good decisions at a whim. Had Mogae not been quick on his feet, the Botswana economy would have been brought to its knees, and a large percentage of the nation would have been wiped out.
He made tough decisions under fragile and vulnerable circumstances and remained steady in the midst of a storm. He did not praise problems; he sought solutions. With HIV/AIDS, it was a case of, “Look, people are dying like flies, how do we save their lives and prevent more deaths?” He introduced free ARVs at a time of treatment hesitancy when the disease was shrouded in fear and suspicion. He became the first African head of state to publicly test for HIV. He ensured that millions of Pula were pumped into campaigns to educate people about the virus. Who could ever forget the ABC: Abstain, Be Faithful, Condomise.
Who could forget the kgaola chain that aimed to thwart promiscuity? And who would forget that old ad on BTV that encouraged condom use, where the drunken man slurred: “Tsenya khontomo!” Condom use was highly encouraged. At a time when ‘kgotlopo (condom) was perceived as a sinister item, through his directive, Mogae made sure that the Ministry of Health distributed free condoms and taught people how to use them. Remember those quality latex condoms in pink plastic, some people used call “di sweets”.
Public education, messaging, and contraceptives were easily accessible.
I come from the township, raised between townships in Lobatse, Gaborone and Francistown, so I am familiar with how ignorance thrives in those locations often referred to as ‘makeishane’. Those of us who grew up in the 90s and early 2000s saw how HIV/AIDS ravaged lives. Children were left orphaned or raised by struggling grandparents. Almost overnight, women became widows and gentlemen became widowers, breadwinners were lost, and dreams buried.
Yet HIV remained veiled in secrecy and shame. It was called all sorts of things: Z3, Four letters, Slow puncture, segajaja, bolwetsi jo bo tona, etc. Few people wanted to say ‘HIV’ or ‘AIDS’. It was like an insult to utter those letters. At some point, many people rejected education on HIV/AIDS, particularly related to sex. They referred to it as “dilo tse di maswe” (bad things). There were many conspiracy theories. Some people were convinced it had been sent to Africa to wipe out the black race, while others insisted it was a curse and anyone who tested HIV positive had been bewitched.
Many others refused to test for HIV and perhaps only realised the seriousness of it once it reached the painful stage of Aids where they lost weight rapidly and clothes started hanging from their frame making them look like scarecrows...That stage when the cheeks cave in, their hair gets soft like it was smeared with relaxer, sores develop, and the skin becomes patchy.
During that time, I once saw AIDS patients with my two eyes at a hospital in Lobatse. On Sunday afternoons some of our church members went to hospitals to pray the sick, and one particular occasion I went with them.
We went to the TB & AIDS ward, and the sight horrified me – most of the patients were a ghastly sight: they were skinny and looked like giant versions of an insect called the praying mantis. You could tell it was a matter of time before mournful hymns were sung.... they were on the verge of being prematurely reunited with their ancestors. At the time, there were no ARVs yet, so HIV positive patients survived through the favour of the Lord, while others suffered until they were literally skin and bones.
I never forgot how cruel HIV/AIDS was to people in our communities.
Rre Mogae saved the day by introducing free ARVs. In the townships, we saw people who, a few months prior, looked as if they were on the verge of being prematurely reunited with their ancestors gradually regain health and vitality.
Public education was also amplified through the media and various public forums, which debunked myths and challenged misinformation and disinformation around HIV.
The HIV/AIDS fight is undoubtedly former President Mogae’s best legacy, an honourable part of Botswana’s history that will remain etched in the memory of many. I had the privilege of meeting Rre Mogae in person several years ago at a local mall. It was lovely to see a former head of state walking out of a bank like an ordinary person. Many people recognised him, and he greeted us all with a kind smile and warm handshake. So much could be said about him, but above all things, he maintained great civility and humility, and it is this humbleness that endeared him to both young and old.