A new job for Uncle

| Thursday May 22, 2014 11:22

I was very lucky that my cousin invited me to his birthday party last weekend. The venue of the party was somewhere on the outskirts of the city, in a compound full of one-roomed houses. The place is Mugadishu or something. There were very few incidents, except when one of the occupants almost spilled used water on our braai stand. She got out of one of the rooms, with a towel around her waist and a container half full of bath water. She did not utter a word to us – I mean no greetings whatsoever. In Mugadishu,  there are many instances where more than three families share a compound but they do not talk to each other. We later learned that the ‘water bowser’ was in actual fact, not on good terms with my cousin’s ‘wife’.

To my pleasure, my cousin has truly reconciled with his ‘wife’ and love was in the air. Apparently she has accepted that my cousin has to service his Toyota Cressida more than her. She has also accepted that they are yet to marry, so my cousin is still a free agent and entitled to a logbook of his life. She has also accepted that the man is the king of the family irrespective of the couple’s marital status. But it was not the birthday party that made my life good during the month of April. It was my journey home.  I have learned to save a few Pula every month and my post office book reflects good numbers nearing four digits. I am very careful with the money and hardly visit the post-office. One weekend I got home under the cover of  darkness and woke up the following morning to a knock on my door. This time it wasn’t Uncle Sporo, but my mom. She had come to remind me about a case between my two siblings.  It was resolved a week earlier. Apparently, one of the weekends, my little brother came home with a plastic bag full of meat, which he requested the elder sister to cook. He went away for hours and when he came back he found that the sister only dished two very small pieces of meat for him. He was not very amused at the size of the pieces, in comparison to what he brought home. When he enquired, the sister gave him a nasty response and they exchanged a few unprintables before getting physical. It was an unpleasant scene.  What intrigued me when I got out of my house was the jubilant mood in which I found Sporo. He has bought a pen, which he puts in his shirt pocket.  As Uncle, he was assigned to be the prosecutor, and judge. You know how it is at home! He also updated me on the matter and told me that he handled it so perfectly that he is now interested in pursuing a career as a headman of records, or arbitration. Sporo shared with me how he conducted the trial:

Sporo: I asked him: “Was the meat so important to you that you had to assault your sister and spend a night in police cells…why didn’t you eat out?”  His response to me was: “nywee nywee we had gone to  campaign for the councillor and arrived very late in the evening and there was nobody at the councillor’s yard cooking for us, so I came home where I left meat.” “I looked at the boy, and the incident quickly reminded me of how he once insulted his sister, something, which I ignored then.”

But Sporo seemed in full spirits the source of which I could not understand. He later broke the news to me. “Party ya rona e gaufi le go tsaya puso,” he said. I was in the dark as to what party he was talking about. Is this the reason why he had bought a pen? He continued: “I hear that my party president went to meet with Ian to discuss the handing over. The meeting is being reported everywhere, in the Daily News and radio stations. I am happy that finally someone in Domkrag has accepted that their time is up and that they should hand over peacefully”.

Myself: “What exactly are you  talking about Uncle?”

Sporo: “You don’t know? How come you don’t know these things when you are staying in Gabs? Ian has called Boko to his office and he wants to give him the presidency…you Gaborone people don’t read. He has told Boko that he is very intelligent and wants him to lead the country!”  I looked at my watch and it was still early in the morning. One thing I was very sure about was that I had not bought him any alcoholic drink that morning.  Whether he was high on something I could not tell, but he looked fine.

Myself: “So when is your party taking over?”

Sporo: “I hear people saying that the newspapers reported that there was someone in that meeting, who said that the meeting went well and that Ian may hand over before October. I have been waiting for that moment for years. I want to either be councillor or headman of arbitration. It doesn’t matter whether or not I am royal blood. Ian assured me last time when we were enjoying a bonfire that I qualify for the position of headman. Now that he is handing over to my party, I can assure you that I am in.

Sporo: Maybe you should start giving me loans right now, I will soon be counted among the people.

Myself: What?

For the first time in many years, my meeting with Sporo ended before noon.