Whites (5 page)

For a moment they were in darkness, enclosed in the dust of their passage as the wind came up sharply behind them. Nothing could be done until it was clear again. They waited.

Tom moved to get out. But Gareth caught Tom’s wrist and pulled him roughly back. “One of us must collect the bottle,” Gareth said again.

As from 1978, God chose me for a thief. Could I, a boy, withstand Him? If God marks you, you must fall, always.

Why must God choose out one Mokgalagadi who is poor and who in all times past loved all things of God and B.V.M.? I was very much in churches. I was foremost in singing of hymns, praising God most highly. My name of Paul is found in Scripture. To me, God hates all thieves. And if Lord Jesus may forgive a thief at times, always it is just because this thief is vowing he shall steal no more. What book is my greatest treasure, if not
St. Joseph Daily Missal?

As well, I am Mokgalagadi, of a tribe that in all ages of time is misfortunate and despised in Botswana and always made to be enslaved and mocked, and having any treasures taken from it, never taking them from others. Only Basarwa are less than we to the prideful Bamangwato and Bakwena, our masters. At Tsane I never took items from my mother as children do. Always I was truthful. I only sought to prosper with good English-speaking. My tutor was Sister Honoria at St. Boniface Mission, godsent to me. But she was taken out from Tsane to aid others.

I came to my fate by an egg, at Lobatse, at Boiteko School. A cooked egg came to be found in my bed. At Boiteko, we few Bakgalagadi were ill treated by Bamalete and Coloured boys at times, myself the most. It was because I am tall, and
fast in my English. I was first in Geography by far. To this day I state Headmaster Sebina and the bursar Chibaya made a crime ring, with hiding of sports fees and claiming of a cashbox stolen, with, then, Sebina found as owner of a new van for hire. They feared inspectors coming. So that if some boys could be shown out as thieves for taking food and cooked eggs from the kitchen, those boys could be given all blame, and so forward with more crimes! They said Here is Paul Ojang who is late on fees and with no relations to aid him in the Board of Trust, and he is a boarder from far-distant Tsane, from where he cannot be heard again. So a miracle passed and an egg was found to walk. Still today I can cry at this wrong done to me.

The cur Sebina said I was only telling falsehoods—he, the master liar. When that cashbox was taken, keen boys were sleeping two hands from the office, yet they heard no sounds when doors were broken through. Miracles were all about. I said to him If at all I am a thief, why am I known to say to some chaps who are stealing in shops in Lobatse it is wrong? But he said I must pack and go. He said I was known to name him as Headmonster. He knew it only from spies. Who set that egg into my bed? It was boys or the crime ring, or God’s hand.

At any time, Sebina stopped our food, as when there was a turmoil at film night. Always he would punish us a day when there must be meat provided. He sold our meat, I know it. Always the head boy for our form was in fear, because I said he must report to the inspectors on all manner of wrong-doing. I said he must report as to food, as to cabbages crushing us day upon day. But he was afraid.

Why was I not given strokes only, if I took that egg? It was because I had no protector. My father is unknown. My form mates were silent. Sebina forced me to sit one night through at Central Transport yard, with my goods, to wait for
the Bedford sent to carry me in shame back to Tsane. I was chopped from my Junior Certificate by that cur with yellow eyes.

You are put to shame. You must go atop a Bedford to your mother, who shall thrash you. You must hold fast to ropes. Your goods are pushed under ropes. Much wind scrapes off tears from your cheeks. When you need some water, there is just but one hosepipe siphon, used the same for petrol and for taking water, so you must fall ill with swallowed petrol. You shall be sent to herding by your mother. After Kanye you come to bush, with no houses. At Jwaneng Mine, you pass far-distant houses behind fences caused by diamonds buried there. After Jwaneng it is bush evermore. Those drivers were fast.

What! at Sekgoma Pan those drivers turned from the road to go straight for the bush. They shall make me a mother too soon, was said by Monusi Maome, a pregnant girl who was a passenger with me. They were shaking us every way. At last they halted at a tree. They jumped down with rifles to go for duiker, whilst sparing no words to us of returning back.

What must I find at Tsane? Thrashings, a mother ever seeking beer, harsh words and all such things until I am forced away to Ghanzi to work for Boers. Of all whitemen, you cannot love them, even if as brother citizens we should do. You cannot love these white Batswana, in no way. Because they will not teach you. In the freehold farms you are paid by food and with some pinches of coins at times. You toil endless days.

I determined I must go before those men returned back, go to the capital even if I must go every click by foot. Then I took down my goods and took from them what I could carry, and all the rest put under heaped-up stones, laughing because it was a beacon for thieves to come, I knew it. I took clothes, provisions, water, my best books:
St. Joseph Missal
and my set-book of
Shane
. I took farewell of Monusi, who was saying I must stay with her. She said I must post a letter to my mother, from Gaborone, at the soonest. She said to guard as to snakes. I went away, marching, trusting to God to help a boy.

I fled fast from Sekgoma Pan, lest those men come searching. As well, the closer you become to Jwaneng, you are the safer as to lions, which do not venture nearby Jwaneng unless at drought times. I was bold, striving with all things such as hunger and hot sun. I made two lifts, always by Europeans. One night I lay in a tree. I lay all one day in the gum-tree forest at Lobatse, too weak. I was quenched out.

I came to our capital. I saw rich housing, tarred streets, vehicles crowding up. Yet every day my schemes were blasted. In all shops a sign says
Ga Gona Tiro:
No Work in Here. With no sponsor, no testimonial, no relations, I saw I must become as animals. By night I lay in the bush nearby the university, changing my place at times. I must wash up in Bontleng at some standpipes. By day I asked jobs or sought to carry parcels at the Hyper Store amongst the
tsotsi
boys, forcing myself foremost among them. All about Gaborone you discern many boys with no home. My funds were drained. I dreamed of milk.

A cobbler sits amidst a multitude of shoes, at Dove Close. I said I can be apprentice to you. He felt my hands and saw I was a student. He said no. I said But I can carry shoes to homes roundabouts for payment, because now you must wait endless days for payment. But he asked if at all I would give gold coins for polishing to a vagabond. I went away. They no more take novices for the mines in South Africa. I went for labor at the Industrial Site, for building work, but was thrust back by ruffians. Biting sores came in the sides of my mouth. I feared always as to lice.

Ever slowly I was sinking down, until God moved his hand to give me aid, a savior, the true thief Elias Odireng.

He was called Alias. He found me in a ruin, lying ill. That ruin was to be a bottle store one day. But in those times it was mere walls. Work was stopped, it seems. No watchman came. Bush was springing back from whence it had been chopped. He was three years my senior. Already he had been at prison. He knew this place where I was found. He knew many sites. At once he took pity. He said if I am well I can aid him many ways. If he would bring some girls there, I could stand lookout. He prophesied I would soon be healed by him.

So at once he was gone to steal food. He made true feasts, with pilchards, sour milk, scones, polonies, tinned sea fish, Pine Nut soda and others, Fray Bentos tinned beef,
naartjies
, some cooked foods still warmed, peaches, mince, sweets. All thanks to him I was made well.

I said Where can you unearth such food? He said he would gladly tell me just because he would soon be gone to South Africa, to Diepkloof, to join in thieving cars with guys he knew from prison, soon to be free. He was awaiting one master-thief only. He said on Notwane Road I should find two houses wherein Peace Corps guys were passing through. He said that if at all they hide door keys it is in one place only. He said they were carefree, most times not locking that place whatever. I must take plastic sakkies in my pocket and go to the kitchen, but I must take only sums of food, never the whole of any food. But I must never take beers, because then Peace Corps guys would go raging all about, with lights switched on, eager for fighting. He said You can rob there every day, with ease. Too many guys are holding food in just one fridge, he said. I said Why do they not complain to the police. He said Because they are themselves thieves, and
you shall see very many plates and tumblers marked from Rhodesian Railways in those hostels.

Always sometimes now I say what! was this thief a Holy Guardian Angel and not a true man, not born out of a woman, in fact? Because it says in
St. Joseph
at page 1078 that everyone of the faithful has a Guardian Angel from God, even unto some pagans as well. I know this page until today. On it the Lord God says
I am sending my Angel to guard you and bring you to the place I have prepared
. Alias was very quick in coming and going, like a ghost. He was ever advising against evils such as cigarettes and beer drinking. And as well he healed me in so short a time and prophesied when I should be made well and going about. What was he? He ate in small amounts. The house dogs thereabout were silent when he was there. He was very becoming, he was smooth-faced, with no initiation scars. At every hour he advised me. He said I must never borrow someone any money. He said You must not hide stolen things at your mother’s house, for the police always go first to her. He warned against long-holding of stolen goods, saying you must sell them, even for a little, to escape danger. He showed me to make tea in a jar of water set in sunlight, with no fire. Amounts of good things fell from this known thief, to confuse me.

Soon one morning he was gone. Withinside my shoe was twenty pula, left by him. I was cast down. Never shall I see his face again.

I was once more at Hyper Store, amongst those boys. They said Chumza, hello, where is your boyfriend Alias, tell us for we must see him, where is that guy just now? I said to them he was gone. Now they said What! he has taken so much cash and some items from us, promising studies with a mastermind thief from Diepkloof. I said On this I know nothing. They told to me all that he was promising: means against watchdogs, means for temptation of servants, means
to divine if someone is abroad within a dark house, much about keys, much about thieving through window bars with wire hooks. They pushed me, and after many kind of threats said they shall watch me day unto night. They said to beware them.

Those were cruel days, I may say. Always I wished only to slip down from God’s eye. I ceased from prayers. I ceased from reading of
St. Joseph
. At the library I could not be granted pockets, as I had no postal bag, so I must study books there what hours I could steal from bearing parcels, weary and too weak. I feared as to my English, with no studies and conversing.

At last one night I saw great throngs passing in at Town Council Hall, rejoicing. It was when after long struggle Zimbabwe was free in victory. Some way I could not be glad in this, because in this free nation of Botswana I was not progressing. Soon those bush fighters would be as kings in Zimbabwe, and it was said many brave fighters were in fact mere boys, not school-trained even up to Standard Three.

In no way could I gain a seat within. Thick as bees, some guys made noises chatting even whilst ministers were giving off statements of great importance. Therefore I lingered on the outside, regarding many posters of the war that were stating as to all kind of tasks and vowing
chimurenga
many times over.

So at once a fat whiteman saw me there. He was rushing, with a camera. He said to come aside to the shadows. With no greetings whatsoever he asked me if I speak English and if I can greatly help him. If I can swiftly pull down some posters, he shall give me at his house three pula each, which he said as “puler.” He said he must go forward to the stage, else he should pull down these mementos for himself. He stayed in Seepapitso Crescent, plot number three-zed-twenty. He said I am a friend to these comrades, never fear.
Those posters are mounted up with mere spots of chewing gum, he said. Others shall take them, he said, unless we are fast.

All whilst he spoke, I said to beware, for this was thieving. But yet if this guy was well pleased, I could venture with asking any kind of job from him. So I saw I must do it.

In all I saved six posters, very fast. Then at once some guys saw me, hailing out cries that said I was a traitor. So I ran fast, going all about amongst vehicles until I could turn up these things tight into a stick and thus escape.

All the night to come I was fearful. As children we are made always to beseech God. But I was blocked from prayer, fearing even as to prayers to Sister Honoria, a mortal, because clergy are at all times watched on by God. But at last I saw my hope. I said if you hand up these things freely for no payments whatsoever, you are no thief, and this guy will be the more pleased about it. If at all there was to be a thief, he would be the thief, as I would take nothing. So at that I slept on.

I found his place with ease, as there was a sign naming Jarvis and the plot number as I had it. My heart played fast, for all this plot within the fence was in ruins and untidy. Dog holes stood throughout the street fence. I said what! a Type One house with no one raking, arms of trees scraping on the roof, gum-tree bark fallen down, dry gardens. It was evening-time.

There was no dog about, yet signs stated to beware a dog. I walked slowly there. I saw dark ghostly quarters at the rear, thus there were no servants with them, I was sure of it. His Land-Rover was brown with dust all over. I was at the back way. A white woman was before me in the kitchen. In her lips a Santos Dumont burned whilst she cooked up meat, stirring. I knocked the windowpane. She too was fat. She shook her head, sharp, as if to send me straight away,
and thus some ashes of her smoking fell down into that food. She took no notice, I may say. I have no job, she said.
Ga ke na tiro
, she said, over again.