Sometimes There Is a Void (29 page)
Read Sometimes There Is a Void Online
Authors: Zakes Mda
Initially I had thought that my girlfriend was Mpho, who I later learnt to distinguish as the slightly bigger and more serious of the two. But the girls laid down the law: they had always shared everything, including boyfriends, and I should learn to see them as one person.
âSo what are you going to do when you get married?' I asked.
âWe'll marry the same man,' they said in unison. They spoke like that quite often, as if each one knew what was in the other one's mind. It was either in unison or they completed each other's sentences. At first this spooked me out, but soon I learnt to like it.
Having two girlfriends was not a bad arrangement for me at all. They liked to cook, and since we were far away from âcivilisation' we depended on canned beef and fish. I learnt from them about a spice called
mixed masala
which could transform the dullest corned beef into a gourmet's delight when fried with tomatoes and scallions. As village girls of Leribe, they knew a lot about all sorts of
masalas
since they had lived with Indians all their lives. The British colonial rulers had
confined the Indians to only two of the nine districts of Lesotho â Leribe and Butha Buthe â because they didn't want Indian traders to compete with English traders. In their statutes, of course, they claimed they were protecting small Basotho traders who would be smothered to death by the savvy Indians. But it was the English colonists and not the Basotho traders who had large general dealers' stores throughout the country, and therefore needed protection from competition.
mixed masala
which could transform the dullest corned beef into a gourmet's delight when fried with tomatoes and scallions. As village girls of Leribe, they knew a lot about all sorts of
masalas
since they had lived with Indians all their lives. The British colonial rulers had
confined the Indians to only two of the nine districts of Lesotho â Leribe and Butha Buthe â because they didn't want Indian traders to compete with English traders. In their statutes, of course, they claimed they were protecting small Basotho traders who would be smothered to death by the savvy Indians. But it was the English colonists and not the Basotho traders who had large general dealers' stores throughout the country, and therefore needed protection from competition.
The twins served the corned beef with macaroni, a starch we never ate at home where we were more rice, wheat bread,
pap
and samp kind of people. This was another way the twins found the route to my heart, via my stomach.
pap
and samp kind of people. This was another way the twins found the route to my heart, via my stomach.
I spent most of my time with the twins; I lost all desire for alcohol. The year that I spent in that village I never even got to know where the shebeens were located. It was satisfying enough to imbibe the twins' presence and become intoxicated by it. And to engage in lovemaking with them in nightly turns. Though I suspected that it could not have been that much of a satisfying experience for them because of my old dysfunction â premature ejaculation.
About two months into our relationship the twins wanted to introduce me to their mother. We walked on the village path through fields of emaciated corn and across dongas and rivulets to the village of Ha Qokolo on the foothills. Their mother, Mme Mmapolo, welcomed me with open arms and slaughtered a hen for me which Mpho immediately cooked with her
masalas
. We ate it with the
theepe
wild spinach. I had announced how much I liked it; I had experienced it when I lived with my grandmother at Qoboshane, so Mme Mmapolo sent a little girl to harvest it from the veld.
masalas
. We ate it with the
theepe
wild spinach. I had announced how much I liked it; I had experienced it when I lived with my grandmother at Qoboshane, so Mme Mmapolo sent a little girl to harvest it from the veld.
Neighbours and a few relatives came to see the visitor and I was struck by the fact that many of them were identical twins. I later learnt that Ha Qokolo was a village of identical twins. Every other family had at least one set of identical twins. I met some of them when my twins took me to a general dealer's store owned by twins who were my twins' friends. And each set I came across dressed alike. Even those who were old ladies with
tuba-tuba
scarification marks on their faces â testifying to the fact that they belonged to an earlier world of traditional practices
â wore tired
seshoeshoe
dresses that had similar patterns and colours. Another thing that struck me was that most of these twins were females â I didn't see a single set of male twins. My twins told me that there were some families with male twins but one could count them on the fingers of one hand.
tuba-tuba
scarification marks on their faces â testifying to the fact that they belonged to an earlier world of traditional practices
â wore tired
seshoeshoe
dresses that had similar patterns and colours. Another thing that struck me was that most of these twins were females â I didn't see a single set of male twins. My twins told me that there were some families with male twins but one could count them on the fingers of one hand.
I had never seen nor heard of anything like this before and I wanted to write a magazine article about it. But I never got around to doing it.
We returned to our village quite late.
Some weeks later I got a surprise visit from old friends, people I had not seen for years. At first I did not recognise them because they were wearing heavy Basotho blankets and Basotho grass hats. They looked like any man you would meet in the village. But soon I realised that it was Sabata, the friend with whom I was once sent on an assassination mission by a leggy woman, and Masiu, who I had met at Peka High School. He was doing the final year of the Cambridge Overseas School Certificate when I was doing my first. When I returned to the high school after I had suspended myself for using cheat sheets in Latin, he had already left. The last time I heard of him he was searching for riches up in the mountains, a place called Letseng-la-Terai, where people acquired strips of land from which they mined diamonds.
âWhat are you doing hiding here when the country is on fire?' asked Sabata. âOur leaders are in jail and the King has been exiled to the Netherlands.'
âSince when do you care about the King? Are you a Marematlou now?' I asked.
Masiu got to the point. They had come to recruit me for a guerrilla army that the BCP was planning to form to overthrow Chief Leabua Jonathan's illegitimate government. It had been more than a year since Leabua's coup and already pockets of resistance were emerging in some villages where police stations were being attacked. A lot of Peka High School old boys were involved and some of them had been arrested. Even
Ntate
Khoto, the huge man who used to be our school minibus driver, had been involved in acts of sabotage and was in jail.
Ntate
Khoto, the huge man who used to be our school minibus driver, had been involved in acts of sabotage and was in jail.
I began to question myself: what was I doing with my life when my Peka High School colleagues were sacrificing theirs for freedom? Those
who were not participating in the fomentation of insurrection had gone to further their education at the University of Botswana, Lesotho and Swaziland or somewhere overseas. Jama Mbeki had gone to study law in England and the BCP had arranged for scholarships for a group of others to study in the Soviet Union. These included Dugmore Hlalele who was studying medicine and my St Mary's High School Muse, Ray Setlogelo. For a while I had kept up a correspondence with her in Kiev where she was studying international law. Later Dugmore and Ray were married and I regretted that I had been too cowardly to express my feelings for Ray during our long years of platonic correspondence. I suspect she had long been ready to take our friendship to a more romantic level. Since the nuns at St Mary's read all the students' incoming letters she had even devised a ruse for me to send her letters to a boy at the neighbouring Christ the King High School who would then take them to her. Why would she do this if she didn't expect the letters to contain something the nuns shouldn't hear? And yet despite the subterfuge my letters had remained innocent, even though in truth I had yearned for her. She must have given up on me as a lost cause. Now she had gone to Russia and Dugmore had married her. And I was marooned in a small village teaching twenty-three students at a nondescript secondary school.
who were not participating in the fomentation of insurrection had gone to further their education at the University of Botswana, Lesotho and Swaziland or somewhere overseas. Jama Mbeki had gone to study law in England and the BCP had arranged for scholarships for a group of others to study in the Soviet Union. These included Dugmore Hlalele who was studying medicine and my St Mary's High School Muse, Ray Setlogelo. For a while I had kept up a correspondence with her in Kiev where she was studying international law. Later Dugmore and Ray were married and I regretted that I had been too cowardly to express my feelings for Ray during our long years of platonic correspondence. I suspect she had long been ready to take our friendship to a more romantic level. Since the nuns at St Mary's read all the students' incoming letters she had even devised a ruse for me to send her letters to a boy at the neighbouring Christ the King High School who would then take them to her. Why would she do this if she didn't expect the letters to contain something the nuns shouldn't hear? And yet despite the subterfuge my letters had remained innocent, even though in truth I had yearned for her. She must have given up on me as a lost cause. Now she had gone to Russia and Dugmore had married her. And I was marooned in a small village teaching twenty-three students at a nondescript secondary school.
Masiu talked non-stop about Jama and Dugmore and many others, some of whom I didn't know because they were there before my time.
âYou seem to know about all the MaPeka
â¦
where they are and what they are doing,' I said to Masiu. âHow have you been keeping tabs on everyone when you are busy digging for diamonds up in the mountains?'
â¦
where they are and what they are doing,' I said to Masiu. âHow have you been keeping tabs on everyone when you are busy digging for diamonds up in the mountains?'
MaPeka are students of Peka High School â past and present.
âI am active in the underground, that's why,' he said. âAnd it's all thanks to you.'
âUnderground? I never belonged to any underground.'
He told me that all his years at Peka he had not been interested in politics, until I came when he was doing his final year. He used to listen to me debate at the Smoking Spot and he read some of the pamphlets I used to distribute.
âYou won me over,' he said. âI joined the BCP and the PAC and I work covertly for the organisations even when I am up there digging for diamonds. Actually, part of my mission there is to mobilise the miners against the regime of Leabua Jonathan and his Boer masters.'
Sabata, on the other hand, was quite reserved. As if he was brooding over something. He never used to be a brooder when I knew him back in Mohale's Hoek. He used to be bubbly and was always on the prowl for cheap sex. Now he looked so mature, but in a sad way. I tried to reminisce about some of our escapades in the BCP, especially the one where we botched an assassination mission.
âAnd you tell me you've never been in the underground,' said Masiu laughing.
âThat was no underground. That was Keystone Kops,' I responded, also laughing.
But Sabata did not laugh.
âSo what do you say about what we came here for, Motlalepula?' he asked impatiently.
He was calling me by my Mohale's Hoek name. And he had no time for small talk. He was all business. A warrior's warrior. I gathered that he never went to high school but instead worked in the gold mines of South Africa. Gold dust drained him of all flesh and blood, most of which he coughed out in phlegmy fits. Now all he wanted was to go to war against Leabua and his Boer masters.
I was not prepared to leave the paradise I had created for myself with the twins to go fight a futile war.
âI want to focus on my studies so at the moment I have suspended my involvement in politics,' I told them.
I was not lying. I had enrolled for associate membership of the College of Preceptors, a professional organisation in the United Kingdom that offered distance learning courses internationally to teachers who wanted to improve their qualifications. I was focusing on the Teaching of English to Speakers of Other Languages.
This was the good reason for turning them down. But the fact remains that I didn't have the stomach to invade police stations and fight pitched battles with Leabua's paramilitary. I was not ready for
suicide. You have already seen in more than one instance that I was not much of a warrior.
suicide. You have already seen in more than one instance that I was not much of a warrior.
My friends and recruiters left the next morning, much disgusted that they had come to my house and all they drank was tea. They had eaten well because the twins cooked their corned beef and macaroni speciality, but I had not offered them a single beer because I had no idea where one could get it in the village. I had not made any attempt to find out because I was nursing my few remaining coins.
Money was the main reason my village paradise did not last. It was tight. The school depended on the fees paid by the twenty-three students and could not afford to pay me the measly thirty-three rands a month. Some months I went without a salary and had to ask my father to send me money for my survival.
I took a new job at Hlotse Secondary School, which was in town â the administrative capital of the Leribe district. The salary at fifty-two rands a month was better than at Likhakeng because the principal, Mrs Ntsekhe, took into account the few courses I had done in the Teaching of English to Speakers of Other Languages, even though she was not employing me for that. I was the new mathematics teacher! Don't ask me how I was always getting myself into such situations.
I prepared painstakingly for each lesson and taught maths with confidence. No one complained. I must have been doing something right because one of the leading mathematicians in Lesotho, Tholang Maqutu, was one of my students at Hlotse Secondary School. Unless, of course, he became brilliant in mathematics
despite
getting his early foundation in the subject from me. Another famous person to whom I taught mathematics at that school was Aubrey Moalosi. Well, he didn't become a renowned mathematician but an actor of stage and screen in Johannesburg.
despite
getting his early foundation in the subject from me. Another famous person to whom I taught mathematics at that school was Aubrey Moalosi. Well, he didn't become a renowned mathematician but an actor of stage and screen in Johannesburg.
We discovered that one of the twins, Mpho, was pregnant. Although the conception was an accident I was ecstatic. I had planned ultimately to marry the twins anyway. I had even taken them to Mafeteng one holiday to introduce them to my parents, without mentioning the intention of marrying both of them. That would have been ludicrous to my parents â especially to my father. My mother was quite broadminded about
many things. I don't know if she would have been broadminded about polygamy â a practice unheard of in my family even in past generations.
many things. I don't know if she would have been broadminded about polygamy â a practice unheard of in my family even in past generations.
When I brought up the matter of marriage all of a sudden Mpho was singing a different tune. She had realised, she said, that marriage to both of them would not work. She had discussed the matter with her twin sister and they had reached the conclusion that I could only marry Mpho. Well, she was the one who was pregnant, so she had the right to call the shots. The old deal was off; Mphonyane would have to look for her own husband.
When I told my father that I had impregnated a girl and wanted to marry her he was against the marriage. He was quite calm though. He flared up about minor things such as my posture when I sat or walked, yet he remained cool and collected about such a life-changing event in my life. He hoped to make me see reason. I was still young, he said, and there was no reason to rush into marriage. We would support the child, but it was not wise to marry just because the woman was pregnant. For the first time I stood up to him. I was twenty-three years old, I reminded him, and marriage at that age was not unheard of. I was marrying for love, and not just because Mpho was pregnant. He had to relent. He sent his two sidekicks,
Ntate
Rabonne (the one from whom we once stole meat) and
Ntate
Ngope Leballo (my friend Litsebe's father who was also Potlako Leballo's brother) to Ha Qokolo, the magical village of twins, to negotiate for her hand in marriage. Her father had also come from Benoni to be party to the negotiations.
Ntate
Rabonne (the one from whom we once stole meat) and
Ntate
Ngope Leballo (my friend Litsebe's father who was also Potlako Leballo's brother) to Ha Qokolo, the magical village of twins, to negotiate for her hand in marriage. Her father had also come from Benoni to be party to the negotiations.
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