When social media alerted me that the tree that used to stand as a serene symbol of local music had fallen, I walked to the place just in front of the Botswana Book Centre to see it for myself. As I saw Ko Setlhareng.Com’s fallen tree blocking the mall’s pedestrian-only walkway, I remembered how spine-tingling sounds of local music used to come from underneath there. The view as people walked past by did not just give me a beautiful playback but showed me that nothing is ever really immortal. The tree had stood the test of time but a heavy pouring rain in mid-February finally drowned its longevity.
For a tree that used to shade CDs and cassettes in the scorching sun, this wonder of nature paradoxically died alone in the cold rain. Before its corpse reached the lowest temperature, it was dismantled into parts with a jig saw. What is left of Ko Setlhareng.Com is saw dust, leaves, and a trunk still held by roots. This is a tree that provided a musical refuge when cassettes used to sell like fat cakes at the beginning of the current millennia. Before its demise and during its prime, the tree’s roots had spread and somehow weeded out the piracy of the music underworld. Some people on social media said the tree needs to be planted back and that alone goes on to show the meaning they have bestowed on it over the years. It also showed the significance it played in our lives because it brought people together. Despite the tree finally falling this week, it is safe to say the platform was, however, long dead. It was killed by the digital streaming platforms and accelerated by the COVID-19 pandemic a few years ago.
