Flowing Boteti River looks set to revolutionise peasants' life

EPHRAIM KEORENG
Staff Writer | Friday November 12, 2010 00:00

 

Nestled between the Orapa-Maun road and Boteti River, Khumaga village has developed rapidly in the past four years since I last visited the place.

Around 2006, the village was a dusty quiet rural settlement.  But now things are different.  Boteti River, which has been dry for some decades, is now filled with water.  In the past, this writer wrote about the then dry river.  People in the Boteti sub-district are peasant farmers.  As is usual, the river has always (when it had water) been used among other things, as a source of fish.  However, due to the dryness of the river for some time, the lives of these people, most of whom have built their homes along the river, has become desolate and poverty an order of the day.  They have been concentrating much on farming - tilling the land and rearing livestock.  Now the river is flowing, and looks set to revolutionise life in Khumaga. Though fishing has not started in earnest, some people are said to be using nets to catch fish.  It is used mainly for relish in homesteads and also sold, especially to outsiders.

Some people are already planning to take advantage of the river and go into serious commercial fishing, where they will employ boys to haul the fish out of the river.  All this highlights the importance of this river to the economic well-being of the people in the area.

For me the Boteti River, which I saw for the first time about a decade ago, has always been a strange 'river'. Because of the absence of water in the river it was used as the link 'bridge' between Khumaga and the Makgadikgadi National Park.  We used to cross over to the park, riding through the hot sand bed of the Boteti River in my cousin's Land Rover.  It was always a busy 'highway'; a path cut out by the off-road vehicles traversing the sands to and fro the park.  Tourists, wildlife officers and locals used this road frequently.

From 2001 up to last year when I used to go there, it was just like that - a naked river growing bushes and grass on it, with a few 'road networks' to transport tourists, park employees and others going into the Makgadikgadi.

I remember my first time as a new tourist, I saw to my surprise, thousands of zebras in the river.  The zebras had come to drink water by the manmade pools inside the river.  The water was drilled from underground by wildlife officers to try to make up for what the dry river could not do - avail drinking water for wild animals in the park.   It was late in the afternoon, and as we sat watching from a safer distance, multitudes of zebras, painting a breathtaking beautiful black and white, alighted from the thick forest of the park, and drank the water.  Other herbivores like wildebeest will follow, painting a rainbow of colours as the sundown meets the billowing dust gathered from the hooves of the zebras and other animals.  So it was with nostalgia and curiosity about this dead river that I packed my safari bag, sleeping bag, camera and other essentials for a tourist. I wanted to see what had become of this dead river that used to sate my love for nature, revitalising my outlook on life.  My cousin, a wildlife management expert was involved in work around Makgadikgadi National Park and Nxai National Park and during semester breaks I would come all the way to this gateway to Botswana's tourism wealth.   It was a place that I used to reflect on life, refresh and most importantly to marvel at my country's natural fauna.  So this dead river, being the link-chain to the park was pivotal, hence news that it has come to life, filled with water, excited me.  As I approached the river I could not hold my breath at the beholding sight before me.  The river was covered with water and there was no sign that there used to be a network of roads cutting across the river.  The bushes that used to cover the naked river in some places were almost gone.  On the riverbanks, leafy trees line the river in a long green canopy (of tree tops), offering cool shades for relaxation.

Khumaga councillor, who was accompanying us, tells us that the river with its water is already changing the lifestyles of people in his ward.  Some people, who had been previously unemployed are now eking out a living by harvesting fish to sell, especially to tourists.  Some even contemplate carving canoes to transport tourists across the river, so they can access the park.

Now travelling with other tourists, we wondered how we will cross the river to reach the northern side of the river bank, where the park lay, welcoming us with its green giant trees and grey elephants lazing about.   Perhaps sensing our dilemma, our tour guide tells us not to worry.

'We will use a speedboat,' he says much to my delight.  The speedboat was an exhilarating experience.  As we cruise across the river, I reached out to the clear water.  It did not seem to be deep, but we were shocked when the boat driver, took out a five-metre long stick and dipped it in, it went in without resistance.  Suddenly I was careful with the water and wondered what will happen should the boat capsize.  But before I could muse further on the horrific thought, we arrived.   New gigantic buildings greeted us just as we raised our eyes from the bank. 

They make up the park entrance.  At the reception desk we found two wildlife officers and without ceasing we literally pummel them with a barrage of questions.

However, as they respond, we are disappointed that we will not be able to go inside and penetrate this landmass of flora and fauna.

'We don't offer game drives,' she tells us.

But then our vehicles are on the other side of the river.  So how do we get them this side?

Someone tells us the nearest point of entry into the park is far off to the west, about 50km from Khumaga. 

Disappointed we head back to the boat and get to the south of the riverbank.  Fortunately, someone leads us to a spot in the forest where we are fortunate enough to see a troop of zebras, ostriches, impala and various birds like vultures.  Suddenly everyone's mood is good.

Amidst shouts of joy at sightings of the animals, we shoot pictures and marvel at the picturesque environment, a mosaic of sparkling green trees and plants against the bare ground, punctuated with bird calls and the shrill sound of flies.

As we were soaking in this nature's experience, the sun came down, as long shadows fell; a blanket of darkness covered the atmosphere.  The day had come to an end.  As we trooped back to our tented accommodation, we pick an elderly man.  Along the way we learn that he had been looking for his cattle for the whole week.  He talks about the futility of livestock-rearing in an area infested with lions. Finally we arrive in the village and rest our limbs for the night.