Time flies. Last week Thursday marked exactly twelve months since my brother from another mother, Gomolemo ‘Sir G’ Motswaledi departed this world. It so feels like yesterday. Sir G to me was not just a political maestro and a national icon that we all agree was. He had become more of a brother and a friend to me. A confidante even. He was someone I felt so free around. He was someone I could easily confide in my deepest thoughts and emotions. Obviously I knew Sir G before he knew me. Before we met in person, he had long established his name as a force to reckon with through his work at the KTM Choir, which he founded, and through the Botswana Democratic Party, a political organization he so tirelessly worked for, until Ian Khama came in and red-carded him. Sir G only knew my name through reading my opinion pieces in the newspapers. He only got to put my face to the name Sonny Serite through an encounter at Mahalapye in a coffee shop housed at the Shell filling station. If my memory serves me well it must have been sometime around 2009. I was walking into the shop when I saw him reading a newspaper and because he was seated and I was up, I could see he was reading the piece that I had written. I walked over to him and greeted him. He rose from his seat and firmly shook my hand, grinning from ear to ear as he shouted “dumela Rara”.
I knew he didn’t know who I was but was just being polite to greet me as though I was not a stranger to him. At the time my column was not accompanied by a photo so a lot of people never really knew the face behind my writings. I introduced myself and you should have seen the look on the faces of other customers as they all turned to look at us. He had laughed so hard and loud everyone in the shop had to look our direction. He hugged me very tightly as he commended me for what he had termed ‘brilliant job’. He told me that he was an avid reader of my writings and that he had only detoured in Mahalapye to relax and read my column before proceeding to Gaborone. And yes, as you would expect with his weekend travels, he was from a funeral in Serowe. We exchanged numbers and promised to stay in touch. Our friendship blossomed thereafter. He became my tower of strength in almost all of my endeavours and I also became a friend that he could trust with his life. He always ran his thoughts and aspirations by me. When he resigned from the University of Botswana to pursue his political ambitions I was among the first people he consulted. I was also among the people who advised him to go back to UB. I became Sir G’s unofficial secretary and escort during the formative days of the BMD. He would call me in the middle of the night and ask me to do some research for him whenever he was billed to give a presentation somewhere. He had his way of coercing you to do something even when you had intended to refuse. He really enjoyed my company and would invite me to accompany him to official events when he was invited as a guest.
I still recall the standing ovation, amid deafening ululations that we got (or rather he got) from delegates at THE BLAHWU annual general meeting in Mochudi. I had accompanied him together with Roseline Panzirah and we sat at the high table, feeling and looking all important, all thanks to our association with Sir G. He enjoyed traveling with me probably because I was one of those few people who respected him but still allowed him to be himself. I think he liked the fact I didn’t always observe protocol where he would never be expected to talk about certain topics in the presence of his party members who revered him so much they wouldn’t feel comfortable discussing girls with him. Yep, we talked about girls and gossiped about people, just like normal people always do. Actually I laughed when I heard the BDP wanted to use the phrase ‘thulaganyo’ to counter UDC’s ‘moono’. Sir G had long given that tag to the BDP and it was in bad light. He called gay people ‘batho ba thulaganyo’ and after MP Tawana used the word ‘matanyola’ (gay sex) to refer to a BDP MP, Sir G would refer to BDP members as “Batho ba thulaganyo”. When we formed the BMD Youth League, I was the only one in our initial founding interim committee who was free to enjoy my beer in the presence of Sir G. I instilled in Sir G the appreciation that when we are not working, it was okay for us to enjoy our drinks. I never faked anything with him. I was real with him. When an ex-girlfriend wanted to cause havoc in my then new relationship, I approached Sir G as he was working closely with this lady and he knocked some sense into her. There is something we had in common that Honorable Sedirwa Kgoroba didn’t like. We loved speed. Actually the first thing that came to my mind when I heard Sir G had perished in a car accident was, he must have been burning oil. During the BMD congress, Kgoroba and other delegates from Gaborone left in a bus and we remained behind to ensure all other delegates from various corners of the country left Maun safely. Sir G rode in my car and we left some two hours later, long after Kgoroba and company had left us behind. In no time we were overtaking the bus and Kgoroba phoned and shouted at me for driving at high speed. He warned me that should Sir G die from my speeding, I should brace myself for a backlash from the nation for “killing our president”.
Sedirwa talked to Sir G and asked him to instruct me to drive slowly. He responded with, “go bothokwa makaulengwe”. As soon as he dropped the phone and I had reduced my speed, Sir G turned to me and said, “eee bona mokaulengwe, I have a meeting tomorrow morning in Gabs, jaanong go bothokwa gore re goroge ka bonaka”. It was his way of telling me to go back to my initial speed. Sir G would sing out loudly throughout the journey and where he didn’t know the lyrics of a song, he would sing in choral notes (do re me fa so la ti do). Sir G’s family wrote this after his death, “We, the Motswaledi family, fervently believe that the bitterest tears shed over losing a loved one are called forth by the memory of the hours we held back the expression of love. It has afforded us astounding equanimity not to have squandered any of the moments with Goms”. To them I say, thank you very much for not being selfish with your son, whom you allowed to take away from his time with you and share with the entire nation his unparalleled humour, selflessness, myriad of wisdom, artistry, creativity, oration, musicality and his benevolent disposition. Sir G will forever live amongst us.
Twitter:@Kuvuki
