Between the years of 2001-2006, I had the privilege of attending the same university – in the neighbouring South Africa – with a significant number of fellow Batswana. From a very large diverse group, the notable ones that always sparked my imagination included: first, the free-spirited, dreadlocked – grown and growing – black, red, yellow and green prettified, Buju Banton, Peter Tosh banging Rastafaris. There was a well-told story that one of the Rastas, who I’m told was very good in the kitchen, had decided to re-flavour the delicious food with weed, to the highness of his very Christian flatmate. Second, there were the very neat carefree Kwaito lovers Pantsula, All-Star laced up, Dickies hats sitting on the heads, with pants about ¾ long. I was particularly fond of the Pantsula walk, as most crafted the speedy steps as if were walking on burning charcoal. Third, some of us – the hip-hop heads – freely rocked Timberlands boots, yellow bandanas, Phat Farm hoodies and oversized FUBU jeans. With ’’Wadup! Wadup!’’ uttered at every opportunity.
Last but not least, were passionate heavy metal heads. Equally, the rockers freely rocked Cowboy Boots, with metal buckles and tips, as well as flame patterns; black leather pants, Iron Maiden t-shirts, and black cowboy hats.
I am reminded of the strolling Lawrence. I am reminded of the smiling Karateka, Dick.
#expression
#freedom
#maroko
#rockers
#botswana
#bot50
Photos: Frank Marshal; Paul Shiakallis; Pep Bonet
Blessing Kgosi e tsile Kgasa 