Samuchao of Tsodilo – Death of a passionate heritage practitioner

Like King Shaka of the Zulus, Samuchao of Tsodilo was known by his first name. In fact, many supposed that Samuchao was his surname until they realized that he was the son of Mokate from Tamachaa where, at least according to the identity card, he was born in 1924. I am surprised that when he died last week nothing peculiar was reported – such as the huge boulder that fell into the Moremi gorge on the night that Seretse Khama died in 1980. Samuchao was a herbalist; some say he knew how to read the bones in
divination. He was a guide, a pioneer on traditional conservation methods, a leader and kgosi to the 200 inhabitants of Tsodilo from the 1950s.
Samuchao was royal, but a pioneer for royalty in his family because besides coming with a group of people to settle in what was the cattle posts of his ancestors, there is no mention nor evidence that his parents were of royalty. In fact Samuchao frequently referred to Kgosi Moremi as the one who assigned him to take care of the Tsodilo hills area, a factor that seemed to justify his position, but a sign of the political savvy he possessed in
paying homage to Batawana hegemony in the area.
Yet, if one thought Samuchao paid reverence to the traditional tribal hierarchies in the area, one would be naive to ignore his shrewdness and diplomatic prowess in promoting Hambukushu heritage, position and integrity.
For instance even though Kgosi Samuchao spoke fluent Setswana, albeit with a serious Hambukushu intonation, he made sure to speak through an interpreter at all public gatherings that involved government officials. Whether it was in May 2001 when former President Mogae officially opened the Tsodilo site Museum or in 2012 when The Diamond Trust celebrated its community projects at Tsodilo, Kgosi Samuchao always spoke through an interpreter, apparently
hitting hard and leaving it to his interpreter to soften the blows of his concerns. Samuchao was often frustrated by government protocol where he has to speak first to welcome guests and where he would then be expected to be silent until the conclusion of a ceremony. The smart guy that he was, he would always pick areas that needed follow up and particularly got inspired after a vote of thanks by the likes of Kavindama and Aaron who would use the occasion of proposing a vote of thanks as MPs to score a political mileage.
The civil man of royalty that he was, he would not want to be the one to introduce politicized issues, but the protocols of his position as kgosi
always denied him an opportunity to come back again. In the last such an occasion where I was Director of Ceremonies he gave me a post session lash for denying him an opportunity to speak again at the end. In the mind of Samuchao therefore, a kgosi should speak at the beginning and at the end, a matter that counters modern civil service protocol and yet well within the
adage ‘moja morago ke kgosi’.
My current role as a civil servant, and my other as a church minister would limit a detailed public postulation on Samuchao and partisan politics.
However his leadership in an environment of opposition influenced politics, minority language issues and one of the most poverty stricken remote areas in the country would have influenced his thinking. An immediate and curious effervescence always befell Samuchao whenever his opposition Members of Parliament rose to speak. I witnessed this on more than two occasions and wondered whether it was the fact that both Kavindama (and now Aaron) speak
his language or whether they spoke freely about things that he could only be diplomatic about – as a headman of arbitration. Yet the tone of his speech was consistent with either a voice of protest or perhaps one of cautious trust.
At the time of his death Kgosi Samuchau was blind and had been so for close to 15 years. However, his position and the respect he commanded in Tsodilo and beyond was unshaken. When I first met him 13 years ago he was in his last knacks of visual grasp. His sharp ear and quick memories became his buttresses as he negotiated heritage and development issues for his community and in his duties as a headman of arbitration. I remember introducing him to (the then) new Director of National Museum, Soso Mweendo at the pinnacle of negotiations in the acquisition of some community
farmlands. Samuchao picked her voice and never forgot it. In one of the negotiation meetings Samuchao demonstrated his resilience as a debator and negotiator, at one point even standing alone when the community gave in to
the requests by the Museum to acquire and fence in some community lands. As a civil servant I understood well the government and landboard ideas of strict demarcations but as a student of heritage management, sometimes I felt like Kgosi Samuchao was many years ahead of both government policy, his people and the current preservationist interpretations and fears of World Heritage Operational Guidelines by African state parties. As we soon learnt; Samuchao had a soft spot for Director Soso Mweendo and gave in to
museum requests just when we thought negotiations were reaching a stalemate.
Samuchao the diplomat would give in but his critical comments and demands were noted as they reverberated in board rooms and management plan formulations, influencing guidelines on empowerment and privileging of Tsodilo people in tourism development products.
In the absence of a stare in the eyes of a negotiator, Samuchao would give surprising signs -a wide smile that ended with a serious face when he disagreed with a position on the table; Yet he would interrupt with murmurs of joy and long nods when he agreed. Whether it was in his welcome remarks at a kgotla meeting or in management plan sessions, Samuchao’s speech was three fold: Firstly, Tsodilo Hills belonged to the people of Tsodilo who have taken care of it. Secondly, Tsodilo had special heritage in the form of rock paintings, engravings and evidence of occupation from ‘boholoholo’, and lastly, people from out of Tsodilo should respect and not deface the heritage of Tsodilo.
Samuchao was a story teller. The stories today popularized by archaeologists and anthropologists as Hambukushu legend may well be the gospel according to Samuchao’s inspired wisdom. The stories were collected in the 1960s when Samuchao and the late Xhao of Basarwa were the main guides and leaders of the two communities of the Hambukushu and Jun/huasi. In the legend, very much comparable to the Islamic legend of creation, God (Karunga) dropped the first humans and their cattle on Tsodilo evidenced by the groves that are on the hills today and illustrating the slippery marks of the cattle hoofs as they were going down the hill to the first water spring. The 4 peaks in the Tsodilo landscape too, according to Samuchao and Hambukushu legend, are monumentalized remains of a family that had broken apart similar to the Biblical ‘pillar of salt’ that became of Lot’s wife. Therefore, even though Samuchao and the Hambukushu are traditionally not a literary community (say, with the Holy Bible, the Quran to show) they have left a legend passed on by word of mouth where Samuchau was a key prophet possibly in its inspiration but definitely in its publicizing. Samuchao relayed these stories with a great passion. However, the Hambukushu legends and interpretation of rock paintings and engravings are similar to Tswana views at Matsieng where late arrivals attempt to appropriate landscape histories and relics of Basarwa by ascribing their authorship to ulterior powers of the gods and legendary giants. Samuchao the story teller was therefore also a player in the deliberate or inadvertent politics of the contested history of the occupation of the Tsodilo hills.
Samuchao was a great friend of the late Alec Campbell who always made sure to bring Samuchao a bottle of wine on his frequent visits to Tsodilo. Their friendship spanned almost 4 decades from the days of Alec as Director of the
National Museum and researcher on the rock art of Tsodilo. Yet there was something intangibly strong between the two men. When we reviewed the 1994 Alec Campbell management plan on Tsodilo, Samuchao did something that demonstrated he was willing to die for Alec. First of all he wondered why we want to change something written by such a good man as Alec who loves Tsodilo and knew it more than the rest of us. Secondly, he was shocked and denied the fact (as we quoted) that Alec could ever suggest that the road to Tsodilo should be kept sandy and difficult to traverse. Ofcourse Alec’s management plan had said so in the old preservationist views of heritage management, but Samuchao would have none of that said about his friend despite its evidence in black and white. According to Samuchao it must have been some other evil person who would want to deprive road ‘developments’ to the people of Tsodilo but not Alec. Yet Alec mentions in one of his writings
that Samuchao was close guarded about the heritage and secrets of Tsodilo.
In one such incident Samuchao revealed a very important cave to Alec only after 15 years of friendship, mentioning to Alec that now he could be trusted.
As we reflect on the life that was Samuchao we are reminded that he was (together with the late Xhao and now with Xuntae Xhao) a custodian and host to many tourists and researchers long before the Department of National Museum had a physical presence at Tsodilo. Samuchao and the people of Tsodilo were custodians in the protectorate years when the colonial government through the Bushman Relics Act were practically interested in the protection of stone walled sites vandalized by gold and treasure hunters.
When the experts of the International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS) came to evaluate Tsodilo for World Heritage Listing in 2000 they could not hide their astonishment at the near-impeccable condition of Tsodilo rock art. Samuchao was a participant in the deepest excavation so far in Botswana when in the 1970s he joined the University of Michigan and team led by Larry Robbins to excavate 7 metres that revealed Middle Stone Age occupation of Tsodilo about 100 000 years back. He was an observer and host when Professor Jim Denbow of the University of Texas made the discovery
of settlement at Nqoma and Divuyu placing Tsodilo Iron Age to between 600 and 800 AD. Samuchao found it normal to a Tsodilo of mysteries when Professor Coulson of Olso Univerisity reported strong evidence of ritual
worship and snake-like carvings at Tsodilo’s Rhino Cave. No wonder then that in September 2009 Samuchao Mokate was given a Presidential Award in honour of his contribution to the conservation of the Tsodilo rock art and its heritage resources.
Mr. Samuchao Mokate was both a cattle keeper and a tiller of the Tsodilo alluvial soils and deep sands. He is survived by his 2 wives, 4 children and reportedly over a hundred grand and great grand children. May the proceeds of his life inspire us to be passionate about the things we believe in. May his soul rest in peace.
**Phillip Segadika is Chief Curator at the Botswana National Museum. He
writes in his personal capacity.