Mashota

Mashota would come to our home most Sunday mornings. He would then reach for a spade, digging fork and began tendering to the various fruit trees and flowers before watering them using a greenish hose pipe. My brother and I were often grumpy each Sunday Mashota did not come.

Often, when Mashota was halfway, he would tell my father that he needed a partial advance of his payment. Reasoning that he can only continue after a short visit to the nearby Apola Jase, for a ‘sekale’. Following a familiar lecture, my father would give Mashota a few coins.

Mashota would finish work just after lunch. He always finished his food. With my brother and I running about, I would see our father paying Mashota, cash in hand, no receipts.

Mashota is one of the very first people, who explicitly demonstrated to me that one can indeed speak and fight his truth to power. I remember one Sunday afternoon when, rolling his sleeves, wanted to fight my father over the violation of the agreed terms of employment.

In these uncertain times, it is particularly people such as Mashota, his wife, and children that we should proactively protect from the shocks of coronavirus.

Praying for Botswana, for the world!

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