Of gourds and the Babirwa tribe

LEBANG RADITLADI
Correspondent | Friday October 26, 2007 00:00

 

Called Blouberg, these mountains are of a special significance to the Babirwa, some of whom are scattered around this part of Botswana, either as farmers or just wayfarers who have settled among the indigenous populations.

Legeng has it that the Babirwa of Botswana originally came from there. The Defeqane wars of yore dispersed them hither and thither until they eventually came to live among the people of Tswapong, bringing with them the rain-making secrets. According to the elders of the tribe, this rain making practice persisted until not  very long ago.

Motlapele Raisaka, popularly known as Noko or Rra Nti, is now an octagerian. His eyes have dimmed somewhat and he cannot hold himself upright as he used to when he was of the goat-herding age. He prefers to sit in the sun all day, his head held down on his chest, perhaps pondering the era when life was easy and not as complicated as it is now.

Although his body is weak and not so willing, his voice is as strong as ever. When you have the time and inclination, he likes to recount the times with you when walking 300km was a breeze, all part for the course for a youngster full of marbles those days. It was the era of the sleigh, or ox-drawn wagon. Motor vehicles were still rare and owned only by a few rich white settlers. Now a resident of Tsetsebjwe, it was from this amiable old man that I got to hear about the exploits of the Babirwa, whose chiefs sometimes sent able-bodied young man to the caves of Blouberg Mountains to get the charms for making rain during lean times for the custodians thereof, who lurked amongst those rain soaked mountains.

'There were no boundaries between Botswana and the Transvaal during those times,' he recalls, 'people travelled freely then, either to look for work on white-owned farms in the Transvaal or to visit their relatives.' He recounts further that when the land was parched and no ploughing could be done, local chiefs and the witchdoctors looked east for salvation to the blue of Blouberg. A few swashbuckling young lads would be handpicked to run their errands so that the tribe could be saved from discrimination due to hunger and famine, 'You could not refuse if the chiefs chose you,' he said, 'you took enough provision to last the journey and you set course for the mountains, braving the wild animals and lions along the way,' The young men so chosen also braved adverse weather, crossed crocodile infested rivers and scaled hills and mountains to do the bidding of the chiefs. It took them weeks to make the return trip. They left their parents, wives, and children to embark on a hazardous journey that could end with some of them, the not so lucky  perishing and they were not sure what horrors awaited them when they eventually came to grips with the rainmakers at the Blouberg caves.

When the deed of collecting the charms was done and they had them in their possession, normally contained in a stop- filled gourd, it was a repeat performance of the outward journey again with all its perils and bothers encountered one more time. The old man recalls that whenever the young men stopped to rest for the night, the gourd of witchery would be suspended on a tree limb under which they slept, never being allowed to touch the ground. In fact, it was anathema that the gourd would be allowed to come into contact with the ground anytime or anywhere on the way home. If ever they arrived at Maunatlala before sunset, the young lads would camp outside the village until dawn when they could then proceed into the village. 'Beware, these lads had to come stealthily,' he recalls, 'They should not be seen arriving save for the chiefs and tribal doctors. They were not even allowed to greet their parents, wives or children, until after the ceremony of rain-making was completed.'

The chiefs and witch doctors then proceeded to a secluded spot, chosen beforehand where the ceremony of rain-making was to be conducted. At the spot chosen the witch doctors then threw their bones to ascertain whether everything was alright, and whether their ancestral spirits were in agreement with their ritual making or not. If the spirits were in favour, the head witchdoctor would then smash the gourd upon the ground, scattering its contents all around. 'It was powerful muti,' he recalls with a spirited shake of his head. 'The errand-runners were the blessed lot, the chosen few,' he continued. 'Now everything is in vogue. We have forsaken the ways of our fore-fathers and because of that our world is coming apart at the seams,' he concluded sadly. Rare Nti says the rains were known to wet the land soon after it was so cleansed. Now that we have abandoned our ways and we have adopted cultures of other people, persistent draughts have become the norm and famine and pestilence has become an everyday occurrence.

Even a pool of water atop the hill overlooking Maunatlala is known to dry up sometimes whereas in the past it was never known to do so. Even the matriarch snake (Kgwanyape) inhabiting the hill is believed to be really cross at times, at the folly of our ways. When it is really perturbed, Maunatlala and her environs brave its anger, unleashing strong winds which cover everything in yellow dust and debris. Why not, some people have been known to have been foolish enough to have even stolen its eggs. Next time I make a pilgrimage to the village and the hill. I will consult with the village elders about why things are in the state they are in and what can be done to reverse the situation. I will even go up the hill and see things for myself (If I set my mind to it, a little thing like scaling a hill with snakes that beam down blue light on the village below is nothing to me; nothing at all). I will even try to see if the village matriarch has been brood of eggs. If she sees me, I will play the go-between and plead for forgiveness and forbearance. If I come down the hill in one piece, I will even offer to go to Blouberg Mountains to ask for some new rain charms. Maybe the rains will come splashing down again timely and my offspring will be well fed.