Poverty stalks Ex-Bechuanaland Police officer
Onalenna Kelebeile | Friday September 5, 2014 14:17
Now living in poverty and with nothing to show that he served his country for a better part of his life, Morapedi sadly remembers how he found his colleagues rewarded with shiny medals for good service and conduct when he returned from England.
He says he was in line to receive the award but failed to convince his bosses to give him one, an effort that ran fruitless until he retired in the 1970s holding the rank of Inspector, still sporting the police number, 1966.
“You know sometimes those who are in charge are so self-centred and have the tendency to disappoint junior officers like I was at the time,” he said.
Morapedi was born in November 1923 and grew up in Mmadinare where he attended primary school before the joining Bechuanaland Protectorate Police.
“I started school in 1935 during a time when there was a severe drought in this region. I was taught by a teacher from Lesotho called Bernard Seleso. I do not remember the year I finished my primary school,” he said.
What he knows is that primary education graduates of that time, would go for higher education at Tigerkloof, Kgale Hill or even Serowe. But he chose to join the Bechuanaland Protectorate Police over furthering his studies.
“The majority of my working life was with the police here in Botswana and abroad. I started as a constable and went up the ranks.
“During our times, the ranks included trooper, messenger, lance corporal, corporal, sergeant and sergeant major,” he said.
Though he never fought in the World War, the nonagenarian believes he played his role as a police officer in maintaining peace and stability. Despite its lasting ill-impact, the three year stint in England, around 1966, gave him the opportunity to study peace-keeping and stability, cooperation, investigations, law enforcement in general and good morals.
“We were taught that all people are equal in the eyes of God and that we are all equally and similarly God’s creations on earth,” he said.
Though speech, memory and sight seem to elude him owing to his advanced age, Morapedi is eloquent and has a strong command of English.
He vividly remembers that in those days, junior officers conducted patrols on foot, while those occupying higher ranks enjoyed the privilege of horses and sometimes bicycles.
In most cases, according to Morapedi, the luxury of using horses for patrol was reserved for Basotho officers.
Using these as their transport, police officers traversed the country to conduct trials for cases like murder, rape, stocktheft and assault, before returning to base. “Guns were also a rare privilege reserved for senior officials.”
Before retiring in the 1970s, Morapedi was stationed across the country in areas such as Maun, Kasane, Shakawe, Kazungula and Pandamatenga. During that time officers stayed in rondavels and one-roomed houses and used notebooks (popularly known as hardcovers) to store cases and any information as there were no computers.
As modernization slowly set in and vehicles came onto the scene, a single vehicle would be assigned to a police station such as in Palapye and that would cover all surrounding areas.
He explains that during his early years, Bechuanaland Protectorate Police was dominated by whites and Basotho, with the earnings a paltry 100 pounds for senior officials.
As for ordinary officers, Morapedi says the remuneration was equal to voluntary work and many former police retired into poverty.
“Basically we were workers but we were as good as volunteers because we had to sacrifice to make ends meet on a daily basis. All in all being a police officer carried a lot of dignity even though articulation of the law was very low,” he adds.
With his meagre retirement package, Morapedi developed his plot in Mmadinare and bought a tractor and a trailer with the intention of generating income through small tenders in the Selebi Phikwe area, which was by then still a cattle post.
“Due to my experience in law enforcement, government appointed me a herdman of record for Gojwane village,” he recalls.
“I held the position for a 16 years until ill-health condemned back to poverty again. I collapsed and lost my sight and I was brought to Mmadinare almost lifeless,” he says.
His health has since disqualified him from work.
The veteran policeman agonises over the fate of his tractor and trailer as he says the person he hired to generate income while he took up the Gojwane assignment, “confiscated” them. His efforts to seek help from the tribal administration have been of no help.
“I am only left with the blue books which which bear the 1982 dates. I still appeal to those in authority to help me recover my property,” he says sorrowfully.
His ill health has also ended his ambitions of becoming a farmer. Morapedi at one point had 30 cattle at his Mmadinare cattle post, but says all of these died. He bought another 60 beasts at some point, but says his herders abandoned them when his health deteriorated. Without the means of monitoring the cattle, they gradually drifted away.
The 91-year-old Morapedi was married three times, with first producing two children and the second ending childless.
“My third wife was from Maun and I married her when I was still a police officer in Tsao. I do not remember how many children we have,” he said, at which point his wife chirps in to remind him that they have seven children together.