Bojale, bogwera, nothing much has changed

| Thursday July 26, 2012 00:00

 

My mother had taken me to a hairdresser to plait my hair since salons were rare in those days. That time, your neighbour could even plait your hair free of charge. Since I was the only female in my family, followed by twin brothers, my mother did not have a problem of paying a hairdresser once a month to plait my hair.I had only two days with my new hairstyle and I had plaited condro, which was fashionable during our times. Surprisingly my grandmother ordered me to undo my hair, and then I said what? as I demanded to know why. The old woman, who passed away when I was expecting my only child, insisted that I undo my hair or else she would totally remove it with a razor blade and I obliged without asking more questions.

After undoing my hair I was asked to wash it with washing powder since a shampoo was not enough. After washing my hair I was advised not to comb it as usual and also not to apply any body lotion after taking a bath and I obliged. It was on a Saturday afternoon that my late cousin and I were informed that we were going to join bojale.We left home at around 3pm with my late grandmother to Ra Kgamanyane ward where our names were registered. Then grandmother left us and went back home since she was already too old and therefore could not spend some time with us at bojale. However, we were advised not to worry because we were in good hands. My mother was then working in Gaborone and did not know that grandmother had taken us to bojale.We put on miniskirts when we went there and were also advised not to wear any perfume or anything that smells nice because the old women at bojale would be mad with us, as this (perfume) was not part of our culture. We started learning bojale songs and the steps for each song - and the song that I only knew since it was common was 'Mmamodisano wa mangana, o phakeletse metsi o jele eng?' The song simply asks a woman why she is drinking too much water in the morning and what she had eaten. We were also taught different songs each day until we knew all of them, including their steps. I thought bojale was fun, but little did I realise that problems were coming.

I was lucky only because I was still young and my body therefore was still flexible. My son came in 2000, 11 years after graduating from bojale. Fortunately I joined bojale a week after the rest of the mophato had done so. I did not go there everyday unlike others who were not students and also not working. Those who were students and working only reported during the weekend, which is still being practised in the current bojale. Although I went there only on weekends I still remember how tough the whole process is even though I was still young.Every day we assembled at our respective wards and from there we headed to the main Kgotla, which is still the norm today. At the main Kgotla we sang bojale songs and did the steps and later the organisers and those who headed bojale, for instance a mophato called Mangana, which headed the just graduated bojale, would analyse the songs and once they were satisfied that we knew them, we would then disperse to our respective wards around 12 midnight. But this reporter can reveal that a number of things have changed. For instance, during Kgosi Linchwe II's time, bojale used to remain at the Kgotla until 12 midnight during the week and stay there until 2 am in cold weather at the weekend.

However, Media and Heritage Officer at Mochudi Kgotla Ntikwe Motlotle, says this is because we (Matukwi - the name of the last mophato under Linchwe II), were difficult and bully. 'That is why we were punishing you and also you knocked off late because you did not want to sing perfectly as we wanted,' she explained.According to Motlotle, there is a daily programme and each and every day they know what they are going to teach unlike in our days when we did not have a programme. However, Motlotle says she does not find anything new with the current bojale. 'We still do it the old way,' she said. However, a number of Bakgatla, especially old women who went to bojale a long time ago, have a feeling that Kgafela's bojale is fashionable. For example, before, bojale women were not escorted by magwera, unlike today where they are seen escorting bojale after their classes at the Kgotla. It was taboo for male counterparts to get close to bojale but under Kgafela it is the order of the day. Nowadays bojale and bogwera are publicised on radio, television and even in newspapers unlike before when it was taboo. The bogwera and bojale songs unlike before are even played on radio stations.

Also members of the tribe were not allowed to sing these songs publicly except at the Kgotla but nowadays there are even recorded clips on bogwera and bojale songs, for example my younger brother's ring tone is a bogwera song. A female who goes for bojale called a 'swaile' was not allowed to relax her hair and come in contact with a man until she had graduated from bojale, but these days some do so even when advised not to. During our time we were advised that one would just collapse if she 'shared' blankets; with a man but modern girls who go there say this is superstition and a hoax. I did not have a problem with this instruction since I was only 15-years-old at the time.One thing that women do not like most with the current and the past bojale is bending and kneeling on the ground. The two are painful, I must say. When you kneel down, the elders do not care whether there are thorns, stones or any sharp object, which is likely to hurt you - and you are not expected to complain even if you land on a stone. When you try to level the ground, to create a comfort zone, you would land in trouble and get punished for it.

You would also be reminded not to try destroying the new mat that had been bought from 'Bakgatla stores, (an old shop in Mochudi, now Maxi Save)', referring to the hard painful concrete. When you are instructed to bend all of you are expected to do it at the same time, no matter how tired one is. 'This is cultural,' you would be reminded. And when they would shout 'mathuding' obviously you knew it was time to bend whether you liked it or not, otherwise you would land in trouble and this is still the current practice.Kneeling on the ground, too, is part of bojale and usually the tribeswomen prefer where there is concrete so that 'boswaile' can feel the agony.  This is part of training for young women to remain tough and endure the tough times ahead when they become 'real women'. That is why bojale comes in winter and according to Motlotle, the cold weather is part of training women so that they learn how to fend for themselves. But still a number of people feel this is harsh.

However, Motlotle disagrees, saying: 'Life is difficult and we offer classes to these women especially those who did not have the privilege of going to school. We offer sewing classes, basket weaving, pottery, whatever you can think of, so that women can earn a living.'Among other things they are taught head balancing, how to be good mothers and good wives to their future husbands. They will also do head balancing while they carry another load on their backs to show that a woman can still do household chores while carrying a baby on her back unlike today's women who employ maids, fondly known as 'boaunty'. To wrap up on bojale training, on Saturday the Bakgatla tribe celebrated the homecoming of bojale after three solid weeks of serious training although Kgosi Kgolo Kgafela II was absent.The common practice has been that the Kgosi Kgolo gives the name but instead a tribeswoman did that on behalf of Kgafela's wife, Mma Matshego.

All the wards headed by the five main wards in Mochudi, Mabodisa, Madibana, Kgosing, Morema assembled at a place called Dikgalaope - by the new Show Ground, unlike before when they used to assemble by Mochudi Police Station, where they sang the whole night while the elders warmed themselves by the fire. Boswaile, unlike the veterans, are not allowed to sit around the fire until they have graduated. They would be sitting a distance away from the fire despite the freezing temperatures. While singing they would be putting on miniskirts exposing their thighs and are expected not to put on anything on top.At the same time they would be covering their breasts and using their own hands as bras. If found not covering your breasts with your hands obviously you land in trouble and get walloped with a moologa tree with elders shouting, 'leifi yaka e ke go reketseng ko Bakgatla Store e kae' - meaning: where is the bra that I bought you at Bakgatla stores?

All in all Bojale can be fun but at the same time painful. When at Dikgaolape bojale sang until the next morning when they assembled at the main Kgotla to graduate. And this is the time to feel the real pain because all the women would be walking slowly and at the same time bending, not seeing anything but would only be informed that they have reached the Kgotla. Imagine bending and not seeing where you are going from Dikgaolape until you reach the main Kgotla.As soon as they arrive at the Kgotla they assemble inside the kraal and most of the time they are advised to face the ground because the eyes of a swaile are not supposed to be seen, according to Sekgatla culture, until they graduate. While inside the kraal Kgosi Linchwe II would come and greet them thrice, 'Dumelang boswaile' and he would say this twice, then for the third time he would say their name, for instance with us, Kgosi Linchwe II said 'Dumelang boswaile' twice and then for the third time he said 'Dumelang Matukwi', the name of our mophato and from there you no longer face the ground and become real women. Under Kgafela, they are given the name while already on stage, not inside the kraal, unlike before.

Then they disperse to different dikgotla to celebrate homecoming where food is cooked and beasts slaughtered. Nowadays women when they graduate put on their traditional gear, letoitse and mogagolwane - unlike us who knew that mogagolwane and letoitse were for married women. As soon as graduation ceremonies are over the initiates walk free as real women who can face challenges in life and these days at times I remember a song which I was taught at bojale which says, 'Ke epa lekwantlana bosadi bo thata jang?' At the time when I went to bojale I was not aware of these difficulties in life and therefore this song did not mean much to me. Now that I am a mother of 12-year-old Lefika, I agree that this song has a lot of meaning because certainly being a mother is not a joke, really 'bosadi bo thata' and this is the beauty and one of the lessons of bojale.