6 June 2018

Dear Papa,

 Meya khona! 

 The year is 2018. Only one year and it will be exactly 10 years since you left. I intend to visit your grave in 2019. Can you believe the last time was in 2015? Tanjti Rra! 

 I’ve been meaning to write you a letter. The last time I wrote you I had just turned 33, your exact age when you married the 20-year-old Mama – back in 1974. A lot has happened since the last letter. A lot. Nkgotla and Onyanas have another child, a baby girl, Rethabile. Rafiwa is so grown! Molly has a beautiful house. As you know her, she built it on her own. It’s in Kanye, ka ko Mheelo. Not too far from Leachman’s house. Michaela and I finally left beautiful Scotland. But not for Botswana, we are now in expensive London. I have loads of ideas they scare me. Is that normal?

 I was just home in April. Mma Obanka still lives with Mama; she has been super-supportive to Mama. She is 93. The very first morning following my homecoming, suddenly, she expertly taught me various medicinal plants. I now know of plant power, herbal remedies such as: Masigomabe, Makgonatsotlhe, and Wheatgrass. 

 Ok, before I update you about Mama, you know her response when I asked her of the day care centre receipts she has kept since 1980 and 1988? She reiterated that she made sure that my siblings and I attended kindergarten because she didn’t want to raise shy children. Interesting right? 

 Etched in my memory is the protective Mama, in the darkness, chasing drunken intruders from our home yard when I was a small boy. My favourite was the loud one who peeped through the kitchen window while we were cooking! You remember? She has always been tough!

 By the way, Mama finally retired on the 31st of August 2016. 

 You see I am at a phase where I try to detach myself from selfishly looking at Mama and understanding her only as Mama. I want to also look at Mama as an individual: a woman, with her own mind, her own feelings. That is, her own pain, her own happiness. And not as someone whose sole purpose is to nurture me, Molly le Nkgotla, but also, more importantly, as someone with her own needs and wants. I must be honest: its very strange. Is this what growing up is about?

 You see, I’ve always been curious to know how she was blushing when you guys first met, or when you first proposed. I think I now have an idea! A ke go sebetse: It was between June & July 2017 when I curiously observed Mama around Rre Lenong. You should have seen her! 

 Papa, tomorrow we officially welcome Rre Lenong to our family. Wa ko Ntsweng, Rraagwe Boago le Phillip. You remember him akere? Mme Mma Lenong passed in 2016. He is also Raizer’s uncle. Did I ever tell you about the talkative Raizer? I sat next to him at Seepapitso in my Form Three classroom back in 1997. It was then that he asked me whether I knew his uncle, Rre Lenong, during our very first meeting. As soon as he noted my last name: Kgasa, he associated it with Sabata, his mother’s and uncle’s church.

I strongly believe that Mama’s inspiring decision to remarry is critically significant. I am reminded of inspirational women such as Tona Unity Dow; Mme Edith Mmusi; Captain Atamelang Koboyankwe and Professor Lydia Nyati-Saleshando. Strong women who refuse to be reduced and push society forward through deeds not words. Even though their powerful actions are different, they are similar in that they are all steered towards equality, women self-empowerment, and women rights. And ultimately, reshaping Botswana’s social, political and economic development.

I’m really glad to know that Mama is commendably honouring your legacy by explicitly demonstrating to my beautiful niece, Rethabile, her granddaughter, your granddaughter, that, a 64-year-old widow can indeed remarry, if she chooses to. Isn’t it heart-warming that she will grow up and her consciousness will flourish in such environment?

Ohh before I go, this beautiful picture of me and the couple was taken by the ever-smiling Thwathwa on a beautiful balmy afternoon just last June. Thwathwa has graduated from Mmadikwele. She is 26 now. I asked her to capture this historic moment while we were enjoying bogobe with lotlhodi fused with vegetables, and morogo wa rape. We washed it all down with super-chilled Spar grape juice. Ee, go sena nama! 

I’m gutted to miss tomorrow’s joyous celebration at Lodubeng Village Park. The magnificent cultural park is owned by William, wa ga K. But you know you and I are right there, in spirit, to lovingly cheer Mama and Rre Lenong on. Don’t worry; there will be plenty of nama!

Let me go and call the Bride and Groom now!

Your Son,

Beglik

 

P.S. Please, greet everybody for me.