Now they want Mma Shana�s contacts

Bame Piet | Thursday April 3, 2014 11:59

I’m talking about my mom, sisters, brothers, and 12 or so nieces and nephews. We were happy to meet after an eventful festive season, which brought us closer to each other than ever before. We reminisced about the fireworks we bought, the good meals we had, and of course, the good time we had over the festive season in general.

I got home in the evening, and therefore expected nobody to have seen me. After greeting my family I sneaked into my house. I was surprised to hear a knock on my door early in the morning. It was Uncle Sporo. I suspect my Uncle is spying on me. How on earth did he know that I was around ‘town’ when we never discussed my trip? He greeted me, ‘updated’ me on the state of our family, and town, and of course his state. “As you can see, I’m not very fit. I was hit by flu, which healed a few days ago. My cow is also sick. Eish, my donkey cart broke down three weeks ago and Shonkololo wants P200 in exchange for an old deef”. Shonkololo is a local mechanic who has been doing the trade since my boyhood. He is a local celebrity, very good at his job, but you give him your car, you should be prepared for the worst. I have heard many people complain about him, but they continue taking their cars to his place for service.

Uncle Sporo was immediately done with his State of the Family Address. He quietly walked out of the room and went to have a chat with his sister – mom. His body language was clear – ‘I’m waiting for you’. I took my time to do the morning rituals on my body – brushing my teeth, taking a bath, and preparing soft porridge. He sat there watching my every move. Apparently tired of waiting, Sporo uttered  a few words to change the mood of the day. “Hei, that day, you never told me how you went home. It was one such good day nephew. I really enjoyed it”. His smile was compelling, demanding an equivalent. 

“How did you go?” I responded, although barely aware of what day he was talking about. “Waaai, I can’t tell”

He is off his chair now and taking short walks in the yard. He accuses his friends of being stingy, and snobbish whenever they have got money.  I knew the time was right to take him half way, and he called for it immediately.

“I want to rush somewhere, Mma Kobongo has a small party, her grandchild is turning one and they have a celebration”. I don’t know whom he is talking about, but that is not important.

Along the way, we get greetings from Sporo’s admirers. Some of them remind him of the promises he made, which he never delivered. He seems not bothered until we get to this place where he suggests we take a break. It is a two and half house - unplastered. There is a group of young men who seem to have spent the previous night either dancing or busy on something. Two of them are sleeping.  Sporo goes straight to the lady and buys two quarts. He produces P30, but the lady issues a stern warning, which he ignores. “This is P20 each, you know it.” Sporo is not bothered and opens the two quarts. He is not showing any signs that he will pay the P10 balance. The lady continues with her business as if nothing has happened.

It was clear that the remaining P10 would be my liability.  Three hours later, after I have bought two more quarts for each of us, the lady reminds me to settle the P10 balance. I oblige.

“So, how is Gabz, o kae Mma Shana?” I’m baffled as to who he is talking about. “I mean that woman, the Mmamelaomogolo. I hear that she is stubborn, she beats people”.

“Who is that, where did you get your information.” Sporo laughs off my question. “We know these things that are happening in Gabs. You think the news does not reach us?”

“Is it true that before she beat that husband of hers with a nurse she shouted words like “You are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent or anything you say will be used against you in a court of law”? I laugh my lungs out.  Where did Uncle Sporo get all this information. “ Monna, last week there was this woman, that other side of the village, who claims that she witnessed the whole scene. She says she even kept one of the bricks as a souvenir. She also claims she spoke to Mma Shana”.  Sporo seems happy now. “So, women with big money are fighters also, Kana nna I’m a lover, not a fighter.  I want you to do me a favour, please find me the mobile number for that Mmamelaomogolo. I want a woman with money. One who can beat me, hurt me, but also take care of me. A mpetsa ka lefofa….” I was watching helplessly as Uncle Sporo began singing and dancing. Then, he came back to his seat. “Let me tell you, there is one thing that these people are hiding from us. There is no way someone can smash windows in fury and not utter a few unprintables”. A woman who just joined us interrupts: “Are you talking about the Gaborone lawyer who broke windows looking for her husband? She laughs: hei dilo tsa Gaborone, jaanong ke eng ne ba sa kwale mo Daily News. Akere sengwe le sengwe se bo minister ba se dirang se tsena mo Daily News. I can assure you that woman was screaming something like leb…, mos…o ntlwaetswa ke eng?”

Uncle Sporo, now insists that he should pay me a visit in Gabs and pass by parliament to look for mmamelaomogolo...Mma Shana. “Please give me her number, I think she will be interested in me”.