The Pastor

When I was about 9 years old, there was a pastor who once lived at home – for around a month. I was told the pastor was from another country. The pastor came from the mountain kingdom of Lesotho.

I have seen Lesotho at school in the Atlas. I had heard of Lesotho on the Radio Botswana. My father had a ’’funny” straw topknot hat I had seen on the Lesotho flag; he occasionally wore the mokorotlo during the burning summer afternoons. Just like my sister, the pastor was very light in complexion. The talkative and always praying pastor had grey hair and he wore glasses. He drove a white Toyota Cressida. The pastor liked cornflakes and a banana for breakfast. My brother and I liked this pastor. If I remember well, the pastor did not eat meat; my mother stir-fried somoso for the pastor. However, my brother and I didn’t like somoso, we preferred meat.

In 2002 – while studying in South Africa – I had a friend by the name of Relebohile, simply known as Lebo, from Lesotho. In 2008, I attended my childhood friend’s wedding in Kanye. The beautiful bride was from Lesotho. I was reminded of the cornflakes eating pastor.

I was deeply saddened when I heard of Pastor Chalale’s passing. I miss Pastor Chalale. I miss Lesotho.

Image: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flag_of_Lesotho