In his own words�
Sir Ketumile Masire | Friday June 30, 2017 17:50
My parents named me Quett Ketumile Joni Masire. I think Masire is a good name, because it means “the protector”. It is shortened from “Masire pheho ya borwa”- “the protector against the cold from the South whose chill gets into the marrow of one’s bones”.
As was common in our family in those days, I had several names. Ketumile means “I am well known,” and it was the given name of one of my mother’s uncles. Quett is a shortened form of Marquette, after the 17th century French missionary and explorer, Father Jacques Marquette.
This was given by another uncle, my mother’s older brother Tom Kgopo, who had an avid interest in French history and called himself “Valois” Kgopo.
Joni was the given name of my father. Most of my life I was known to my friends and colleagues as Quett and that is how I have introduced myself to others.
My parents lived in the Motebejana ward, a sub-division of the Ngwaketse tribal area, on the southern side of Kanye, where my father was the headman, as his father had been before him. A headman is a traditional leader – a sub chief – at the ward level within a tribe.
The position is hereditary; it would have come to me had I wished it. The headman could be removed by the kgosi, but there would have to be some good reason to do so and it seldom happened except in the case of serious disputes.
The headman undertook the functions of the chief within the ward, allocating land, presiding at kgotla, settling disputes and rendering judgments in civil and criminal cases.
Our ward, Goo-Motebejana, was named after my great-grandfather, who had been part of the Bahurutshe people on the South African side of the border near the present town of Motswedi.
My ancestors, the Batebejana, had first been of the Bahurutshe tribe and later the Baphiring. They migrated from South Africa and came under the rule of Bangwaketse chiefs early in the 19th century.
The ancestors of my chief, Bathoen II, had invited them to move to Kanye. Their family totem was the phiri as a reminder of the difficult times during the migration to the Kanye area. My mother’s family, the Kgopos, were direct descendants of Chief Moleta (c. 1770-1790), the father of Makaba II (c. 1790-1824), though they were not considered royalty.
Their family totem was the kwena. We became of the Ngwaketse tribe of Botswana by virtue of our settlement there.
My parents were people of modest means, ploughing land and rearing some cattle. My father, Joni, also had the responsibility for the day-to-day running of the Rowland Brothers and Peat Trading Store in Kanye, owned by Richard Rowland, one of the more prosperous traders in the Protectorate.
Only whites, Asians and coloureds (as people of mixed blood were known in Southern Africa) could obtain trading licences from the colonial government.
My father established his moraka at Moshaneng, and it was one of his favourite places when he was not at Rowland’s store. His lands were at Tlapaneng, some 23 kilometres south of Moshaneng.
My parents were living in the compound of the Kgopo family when I was born. Three years later my father built his house for our family in the Motebejana ward.
I was followed in the family by two sisters (Gabalengwe and Morufhi) and three brothers (Basimane, also called David; Basimanyane, also called Peter; and Bantlohile).
My brothers and I had a good many adventures when we were at the cattle post together, some of which could have ended in disaster. Once my brother Basimane and I had lost our bull, we went from herd to herd to look for it and late in the day, we started walking back to the cattle post.
He was following me and we were talking and in the middle of our conversation, we saw a kudu. I took at shot at it with my rifle, but I missed it.
As we walked further on, suddenly I landed right on top of a black mamba in the path. I was very frightened and fortunately it too was frightened. I was jumping and dancing and trying to keep myself suspended in the air! I eventually got past the snake without being bitten and it disappeared into the bush.
On another occasion we were collecting cows for go phokisa (grazing the cattle before milking in the morning), and we found a trail where something had been dragging an animal. We found a python in a pile of rocks, it had just killed and swallowed a young duiker.
I shot the python and killed it, and we took it home and skinned it.
For the whole day, we dared not touch any utensils, since my mother had a strong aversion to touching snakes. Some months after I had killed the python, I came upon a black mamba that had swallowed a small hare.
I knew if I missed the mamba, I’d lose my life; but I shot it and killed it. The independent life at the cattle post was often exciting for a boy growing up!
Education
I began school when I was thirteen and a half. Much earlier my mother had felt strongly that I should go to school, and I suspect that my father also wanted me to go to school, but only at a ripe old age!
My first school was the Rachele Primary School in Kanye, where I advanced quickly. When I was very young, almost every man went to the mines in Johannesburg when he turned 18, so I had anticipated that I also would be a miner.
There were boys in the same class who were 20 or 21, many of whom dropped out and went to Johannesburg to the mines.
We also had men who had already been to the mines and who came back to begin primary school at the age of 21 or even older. They were not of any different social class, but going to the mines was something many just did in those days.
Because of my age and the fact that I did not give in easily, when I was told I was wrong in school I wanted to be shown where and why I was wrong.
Perhaps one could say I was difficult and argumentative from a very early age, and the trait persisted!
After I was in school, I started to think, well, one could be something even better than being a miner. I applied myself seriously and managed to complete seven years of primary school in five years.
I topped the class at the end of primary school and was awarded a government bursary to go to Tiger Kloof Institute in South Africa, since there was then no secondary schools in the Protectorate.
I thought I should study agriculture and be a farmer, as that seemed the best way to earn a living in Bechuanaland.
Because of my record of achievement in primary school, my government scholarship was not only to do JC and Matric at Tiger Kloof. It was also provided that I could go to Fort Hare University in the Cape Province, where I planned to do a BSc degree in agriculture.
I travelled by train in 1944 from Lobatse to Tiger Kloof Institute, a school run by the London Missionary Society seven miles south of Vryburg in the Northern Cape. Its former students had included Seretse Khama, my own chief Bathoen II and such future educational and political leaders as Gaositwe Chiepe and Archie Mogwe. My contemporaries at the school included Bias Mookodi, Moutlakgola Nwako and Motsamai Mpho, whom I also encountered in later life as well.
Family responsibilities
Unfortunately, my mother died in 1944 while I was doing Form 1. She loved her children, and we all loved her dearly, and we were all deeply saddened when she collapsed and died.
Two years later my father died, and it became clear that I could not go all the way in school. Chief Bathoen had visited Tiger Kloof to tell me how seriously ill my father was.
He talked with me in very fond terms, I would say, though we later developed serious differences and mistrust that persisted through the remainder of our lives.
The loss of my parents by the time I was only 21 was profound in three ways.
First, it was traumatic to lose, first one, then the other parent at such a young age. Second, my father had been both harsh and loving, so he played both a father’s role in firm guidance and a mother’s role of consoling and comforting.
Consequently, after my mother died, we still had the kinds of support, discipline, love and comfort that children need, despite the fact that we had lost our loving mother.
My father was also a friend, and we deeply mourned his death. Third, as the first born in the family, I felt the burden of sheer responsibility for five younger siblings.
I decided I could delegate some of the responsibilities to my uncles to look after the property, the kgotla and my siblings and I could keep an eye on all of them from school.
I felt that while my brothers and sisters didn’t need baby sitting, they did need some way to make sure their future was secured.
I sent my sister Gabalengwe to St Joseph’s at Kgale, south of Gaborone and later my brother Basimane to St Joseph’s and then to Zimbabwe and my sister Morufhi to the home craft school in Mochudi.
With arrangements made, I decided there was no reason I should not go to school myself, so I went back to do Form IV.
I was bent on going the whole distance in school to graduate with a BSc in Agriculture. However, while I was doing Form IV, my brothers and sisters who were staying with other members of the family became unhappy with their arrangements.
At the relatives’ homes, they were subject to different types of discipline and also they did not have the choices of food they were used to having.
For example, in our home there had always been milk to drink, and both mealie meal and sorghum porridge, as well as meat two or three times a week.
I had to take their unhappiness into account and therefore I decided to change the arrangements.
I consulted the Department of Education to see if a different course of study would prejudice my scholarship.
While they regretted that I couldn’t go the whole way to a university degree, they thought a change could be made, since they understood my circumstances. So, I added a two-year teacher training course and combined the first year of that course with Form V to save a full year.
I completed the final year at Tiger Kloof and received by Teaching Certificate, having scored a high pass in the “Cape National Primary Higher 2” examination. Chief Bathoen thought I should come back home to Kanye to start a junior secondary school with the sponsorship of the tribe.
I was to become the only qualified secondary school teacher in Ngwaketse territory, since Archie Mogwe and Ben Thema who were also from Ngwaketse, were teaching in South Africa.
By January 1950, I had secured a responsible position as a teacher. I was the head of a family responsible for five younger siblings and for managing the family’s property – the land and cattle my father had accumulated.
Our family was reconciled to the idea that I would be the headman in our ward.
I had been exposed to many exciting ideas and to a variety of formative experiences at Tiger Kloof and by travelling in South Africa. I was ready to begin a new stage of my life as a teacher and farmer.
*The above is an abstract from Sir Ketumile Masire’s published memoirs, Very Brave or Very Foolish