Gasebalwe Seretse
22 August 2008
opinion
Gaborone — Tales of perilous journeys through the Kalahari Desert have been told by travellers of old; so it would not be surprising if some modern day travellers believe that they could still be faced with untold dangers in the desert in this day and age.
When one arrives at the small town of Ghanzi, he or she is tempted to dismiss the thought of being attacked by a lion in the area. Ghanzi is a modern town with modern infrastructure that most villages in Botswana lack. As a matter of fact, when one is in the small town, he or she would not miss the luxuries of Gaborone that much.
That is until one arrives at the Dqae Qare Game Farm the place made famous by the Annual Kuru San Dance Festival. When you reach the game farm, which is in the village of D'Kar, you start feeling that you are right in the belly of the desert. To start with, you become a prisoner of sorts because your movements are restricted. It would not be surprising to hear one of the locals advising a tourist, "Never venture into the wilderness unescorted, there are dangerous animals out there."
The thought of being mauled by a lion would most certainly send a chill up somebody's spine even the would-be African warrior.
For some, attending the Kuru San Dance Festival is pure adventure and adventure can influence somebody to have unguarded moments as it will be later revealed in the story.
One of the pieces of advice that you are likely to get when you arrive at the gates of the game farm is that you have to identify a group of people as companions and stick with them as you get in and out of the farm. Another piece of advice is that you should drive into the farm using the shuttle that the organisers of the festival provide or alternatively a four-wheel drive vehicle.
In one of those unguarded moments, the enthusiasm of getting into the farm and not missing out on the night of healing dances overcomes my companions and I and we decide to use a vehicle that has been declare unsafe.
Fortunately for us we manage to get into the farm in time for the healing dances. After watching the graceful dances we file back to our car back to D' Kar and Ghanzi where we are lodging.
To our utmost horror, after a couple of kilometres the vehicle gets stuck in the sand. The driver tries to negotiate the sand dunes all in vain. We get out and push the vehicle and fortunately it lurches forward. However our joy is short-lived when it gets stuck again.
Behind us, impatient travellers choose to use the other route that is reserved for those vehicles getting into the farm. Also behind us, there are two Norwegians and some locals in their 4 x 4 vehicles.
The Norwegians, putting their safety aside, alight from their vehicle and offer to help push the stuck vehicle.
A big truck full of locals drives past and we scream at them, "Please help us, our vehicle is stuck in the sand." The driver of the truck stops for a moment and then drives away. In the back of my mind, I know that he is doing this for his own safety and that of the people he is in charge of.
After pushing our vehicle for what appears to be more than 20 minutes, it lurches forward and gets freed from the sandy trap. We shake hands with the Norwegians in heartfelt gratitude and say our goodbyes as the driver of our vehicle pulls away.
Inside our vehicle, there are two people, Lephirimile Goleanye and Lone Kochane. Outside it is myself, Ketlaadireng Molefinyane, Tom Hozlinger and Botswelelo Tsekane.
Somehow there is miscommunication and those in the vehicle believe that the Norwegians have given us a lift. As our vehicle pulls away we run after it hoping and believing it will stop somewhere.
We run behind the car for about a kilometre and soon we become breathless. Then the reality of the situation hits us. Goleanye and Kochane are not aware that we were trailing behind and were therefore not going to stop with us.
I look around us, there is complete darkness, the kind of darkness that seems to have eyes that are staring back at you. I tremble a bit.
Then I begin to think of lions and other beasts that are said to be freely roaming the farm. Never in my life have I ever imagined that I would be in such a moment of danger.
It is in times like this when people tend to make peace with their Maker and being from a Christian background I start humming the hymn Peace Be Still.
I think of the passage in the Bible when the disciples were in a perilous moment when they faced the raging seas and asked the Lord to intervene and He just rose and said to the billows of water, Peace Be Still. I feel more than ever that we need God's divine intervention.
"What are these people doing? They can't leave us in the middle of nowhere," I shout in rage.
Then I become aware that my shouts of rage might attract some predators that are lurking in the dark and I quickly keep quiet.
Hozlinger is in front of us and I turn to Molefinyane and Tsekane, "Gentlemen, we are in deep trouble. This area is infested with dangerous beasts."
Silence falls as we brisk walk and then break into short marathons. Time and again, we stop to catch our breaths.
Despite my spiritual revival, I feel like wringing somebody's neck.
Perhaps out of desperation, despite being fully aware that there was no network, I ask Molefinyane to call Goleanye.
Molefinyane brings out his cellphone and attempts to call him. Fortunately, the call gets through and Goleanye stops for us.
I am not sure if we all thanked God for his intervention but we were all relieved. When we get into the vehicle I am not in a talking mood, somehow I restrain myself from committing murder!
Goleanye and Kochane explain that the thought we had been given a ride by the Norwegians and them being our friends we reach the conclusion there would be no motive for them to want to see us dead.
The following day runs smoothly. We park our vehicles at the gate and use the shuttle to the dance arena. We enjoy the dances but towards sunset Kochane expresses the desire to go and call somebody at the farm gate where there is network.
I also want to collect business cards from my vehicle and so I agree to accompany him. Someone would think that we had learnt our lesson from the previous day's experiences, but as there is no transport available to the gate, we choose to walk there.
"Gentlemen, where are you going?" a young man asks us.
"We are walking to the gate," we reply.
"Didn't you hear that lion roaring? Please do not put your lives in danger and wait for the shuttle," he almost begs.
Without a second thought, we decide to take his advice. As we wait for the shuttle, I begin to think hard. Suppose the lion that the young man had heard was in the vicinity the previous night what could have happened to us? Suppose Molefinyane had not been able to make that call what would have happened to us? I am not sure how others would interpret this but I am convinced that God must have intervened that night.
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