Independence Day in Mochudi

EPHRAIM KEORENG
Staff Writer | Wednesday October 6, 2010 00:00

By lunchtime, Gaborone was locked in traffic jams. Almost all the major roads had bumper-to-bumper traffic.Some people were rushing to the malls to pay their bills, others to get money or send money to loved ones through the bank. Some just wanted to buy stuff to take to their homes for the holidays - groceries and clothes for the extended family. It was busy. After all, Independence Day was around the corner. It was the next day on Thursday.

At tyre service shops and petrol stations vehicles were being readied to take long trips away from the hustle and bustle of the city life, to villages far flung all over the country. You know as Batswana, just like most Africans, we have a strong attachment to our villages. Almost everyone will tell you that they are from a village.

Perhaps this is largely due to the fact that originally Batswana were an agrarian society, thereby spending a lot of time in the villages and the lands where they tilled the land and reared livestock for a living.

However due to various developments, including the discovery of diamonds in Botswana, Batswana left the villages and lands - masimo - and went looking for jobs in the towns. So it is during holidays that a lot of people working in the 'urban diaspora' re-trace their steps back to the village to go home and take a moment of respite, mingling under tree shades and discoursing with elders and cousins about this and that in a leisurely manner; a sure way of bonding as family members. As the vehicles were preparing to hit the roads, my mind went back to that South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) programme dubbed 'Khumbule khaya', which talks about people who spend a lot of time away from their families. Some even disappear forever.

A childhood friend of mine is fond of throwing this phrase in my face, accusing me of abandoning my folks back home. Most of the time when he says this to me I fail to defend myself for the simple reason that I hardly go there, especially during holidays.  But this is largely due to my line of work. Having accepted the burden of being the eyes and ears of the society, it is days like this that I have to be out there to gather news for the reading society. Nonetheless people were travelling in large droves. At the bus rank it was a nightmare as it usually happens when people leave for holidays. Long queues and congestion of traffic - both human and vehicular, define the moment.

The police did their level best to make sure that this Independence Day was celebrated without misery or misfortune of any kind. They mounted roadblocks across the country, especially on the main roads like the A1 road, which carries northbound travellers.

Despite their efforts, accidents continue to happen in the roads. On the Wednesday night, we drive from Gaborone to Molepolole to check out the road and see what is happening in the Kweneng capital. However we arrive to find a terrible accident in the village. A big truck has veered off the road and gone through the gate and right inside the house! It is quite a scene. People stand by in shock as they try to piece together this bizarre incident.

However later when the Mmegi team tries to get the facts of what happened and see if anyone has been hurt, an officer reveals that we will have to talk to the station commander. Unfortunately at press time station commander Andrew Bosilong's phone was off. The next day - Thursday - was Bopiuso or Independence Day. As I woke up in the morning I remembered my anxiety as a primary school pupil when after being told that tomorrow would be Independence Day, I thought everything would be different. That I would not only miss school but I would be allowed to play and ride my bicycle as far as I could.

All along we had been warned not to go close to the main roads to avoid being hit by cars. But most important I expected something magical to happen. It was a fantasy that I looked forward to.

However, that day, back in my childhood, I woke up to a normal morning, where the hot sunrays, as I looked at the sky hit my eyes. So last week Thursday I woke up with these childhood thoughts and smiled as I realised that a lot of people looked forward to the day as an important one, where they can have fun with families and friends and bond together.

This time we went to Kgatleng to see what the Bakgatla-ba-Kgafela had in store for the festivities. Just after the Btv traffic circle, we found a lot of people stranded after their Francistown bound bus came to a complete stop and refused to re-start again. They were told that it cannot carry them out of Gaborone, hence they had to look for another mode of transport to take them to their destinations.  A very serious setback, especially that Francistown, about 500 kilometers away from Gaborone, is tough to reach - you have to endure a five hour bus trip under sweltering heat.  In Mochudi, we found the village in a lull. It is a slow moving Thursday here. The usual camaraderie is not there. It is only after three hours that we come across a few parties where people sit and talk under tree shades as they eat their food. It turns out, as I was to hear from my colleague, that this Boipuso is a different one.

The government has not provided food for the festivities. However, President, Ian Khama, has sent an Independence Day message read by government officers in various villages. In the message, the president says how happy he is to be addressing them on Botswana's 44th birthday. 'At independence, our nation was among the world's least developed countries when measured by levels of formal education, health facilities, material infrastructure amongst others...as was the case back in 1966. Botswana has once more reached a crossroads that will test our resolve. Revenue from diamonds alone can no longer sustain our aspirations. The global economic downturn, from which we are slowly recovering, has put additional stress on our finances.

We must replace over-dependence on government, which encourages disempowering expectations of entitlement, with the courage to pursue sustainable wealth creation. The culture of dependence is not good for this nation,' he says in his statement. On the A1 road towards Artesia, it is clear, except for a few lone vehicles. The police are even having a moment of respite as the traffic has eased up on the road.

We go back to Mochudi and after the searing sun, we go to the B6 bars to find some soft drinks and bottled water to quench the thirst.

However, upon our arrival we are met by a lot of people, some in their cars, others sitting on chairs outside the bars, awaiting the time for opening.  'They open at 3pm,' we are told.

A lot of them look desperate. They resemble a scene I used to see at the cattle-post when we used to take cattle for drinking. The borehole will be closed and cattle will be hanging in there, outside the corral looking despondent.

Finally, the bars open and everyone rushes in. After braaing some meat and eating it with pap we hit the road to return to Gaborone.