It was between the years’ of 1994-1996,on a bright hot afternoon. I think my brother and I were cashiers that day, definitely on a Sunday. We were inside the Borakanelo General Dealer, we heard a bit of arguing outside. We looked at each other before rushing outside. Where Shorty, had been busy cultivating the various fruit trees. Yes, my parents were obsessed with growing trees everywhere.
Outside the store, there was the not so talkative Shorty, I don’t know who was shorter, him or his name? Shorty was clearly not happy with my father’s remuneration terms and conditions. Demonstrating with his hands, he shouted at my father: ’’a re ye ko ntle ga shopo, ke go betse!’’ (Lets step outside the store yard so I beat you up! I don’t know with my brother, but I was excited, I couldn’t wait to see my strong father, taking Shorty down with ease. I knew very well how strong he was. Apart from seeing him holding his ailing father, with ease, when I about 10; apart from seeing him cutting hedges in the burning sun; he had worked for at least 20 years at the Rooderport Deep mine in apartheid South Africa, his certificate, and yellow helmet, confirmed: Team Leader. He once mentioned that he used to carry a 50kg bag of maize or sorghum at the Masimo, when he was a boy.
Instead, a very calm Papa just stood there, not saying a word. And the mumbling Shorty walked away, he was gone for a couple of hours. He came back to continue the cultivations and later was talking and laughing with Papa, on that fateful bright and hot, Sunday afternoon.
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Blessing Kgosi e tsile Kgasa 