The strike in Francistown

In the north is the Marimavu Street junction. On the way to the city centre, there is the mammoth Botswana Insurance Company (BIC) billboard overlooking the ground.

Its advertising message is 'get hassle-free insurance cover that goes the extra mile'. For the last one month-plus, civil servants have been gathering at the grounds in support of the on-going strike and to hear messages from union leaders.

Near the grounds, a woman sat under a tree selling sweets, chewing gum and airtime among other items. Last Wednesday, the woman was engrossed in a conversation with an elderly grandmother who sat on the ground with feet straightened in front of her. The elderly woman's wrinkled face mirrors years of wisdom and her beady eyes are alert as they dart hither and thither when she makes a point. It was obvious the old woman was dominating the conversation, not giving the younger sister a chance to put her point across.

The vendor kept saying: 'But then, but then, you see' without finishing her sentence as the old woman interrupted her, apparently in an effort to dispense her grey-haired wisdom to the lost generation. To drive her point home, the old woman, who appeared articulate used a stick, with which she stabbed the ground from time to time. And then she expertly drew a seven and an eight and then looked at the younger woman.

'Can you see how old I am?' she challenged the younger woman who responded by saying 78. 'Ahaa ngwanaka, ke tsone dingwaga tsa me tseo (Those are my years). What I want you to know is that these people are provoking the ire of our president's uncles. They will come here and wipe you all.

'Do you know that our president has powerful uncles overseas who would not like to see or hear of what people are doing to their nephew?' she challenged with a serious deadpan expression. She said that what strikers should know is that President Ian Khama is not only the president of Botswana, but also paramount chief of the Bangwato tribe.

'What do you think anyone can do to him? Nothing.  Ba ba a tshameka ba (these ones are playing),' the septuagenarian said.

At the grounds,a van which has been stationary since April 18 is the centre of attention. A loudspeaker hoisted on a pole next to the van fills the air with one of Olebile 'Maxi' Sedumedi's famous songs that go like: 'Ke tlodile molao wa batsadi bame/kene ke rata mosimane/ a ntira gore ke tlole molao wa batsadi bame' (/I have broken my parents' law/I have fallen in love with a boy/ he has made me break my parents' law. The song stopped mid way for an announcement that someone was being wanted at the van. There is yet another announcement that someone should go and close his car windows. The registration number and make of the car is given. Then a man in green overalls is seen talking and gesticulating animatedly as if preaching to a stubborn congregation.

Someone by the van suggests that he should be given the microphone to aid his audibility. But as he comes closer he can be heard saying: 'Le seka la lebala baloi! Le bone ba batla dituelo tsa bone! Bateng go ne fa baloi fa. Ba bangwe ke mapalamente le diministara. (Do not forget the witches! They too demand what is due to them! They are here with us. Some of them are MPs and ministers'.

Realising that he is talking gibberish, it is decided that it will not be wise to offer him the mike. Another man comes up to complain about something and takes aside one of the women holding the microphone. In no time, he walks away nodding contentedly.

The chairman of BOFEPUSU, Francistown region, Time Moupi is standing near a car in blue overalls tied around the waist revealing a yellow T-shirt emblazoned: BOFEPUSU, the struggle continues.

On the head he is wearing a red baseball cap with the acronyms of the union on the forehead.  'Yes, we appreciate the fact that our members have been resolute in what they want. They have never wavered and that goes to show that we have done our job in educating them about their rights as employees.

'But the fact that we have been here for a month is not good because had all our members heeded our call to strike, definitely, the government would have long acceded to our request. 'What we are happy about is that the few that remain are so overworked they are regretting not coming here. We still tell them to come because once all institutions are closed, the government will  realise how important we are,' he said.

Moupi and Tshekatsheko Lekang are the face of the struggle in Francistown. The lanky Lekang is not around because he has travelled to Tonota, Moupi said. The two field queries and enquiries from members and keep morale high.  Away from the ground, one young man tells another that Ian Khama is stubborn and it seems he is not willing to listen to the demands of the workers. But his mate feels that Khama is right. 'Look, he has said there is no money. Why is it that these people do not want to listen? Khama is helping the poor and unemployed with the little money that the country has. If he gives these people the money they want, the country will be left poor.' The younger man responds: 'But Ntatemogolo (grandfather) ake re when these people are given an increase in their salaries, they will be able to help at their homes. They will be able to augment the pensions of their parents, help their siblings with school fees and other things. That is why I am saying Khama is stubborn. He is going to ruin this country'. The older man still seems unconvinced and pushes his bicycle away.

Along the way people, with fear written on their faces, talk about the strike and what it is doing to the economy of the country. At Nswazi Mall, four young men are debating the strike with one of them saying Botswana is going to be just like Zimbabwe if not worse. Then one of them says: 'Le boneng koo. Re tloga re tshwarwa. Ga re sa itse ko re ka tshabelang teng malatsi a.' (Guys, watch out. We might be arrested. We no longer know where to run to these days.)'.