Wednesday, September 25, 2024

 


Chapter 1

 

Pule woke up to the choking heat of the dense summer night. Keeping his eyes closed, Pule stretched his arm to his side, where his wife Moradi was sleeping peacefully, seemingly unmindful of the heat. With the temperature hovering around 41 degrees Celsius, Pule felt as if their modest dwelling had been turned into a furnace. The stillness of the silent night was broken intermittently by distant sounds of traffic and dog barks. Occasionally, a cock crow, reminiscent of nights in the rural areas would supplement the sounds of the dying night. There was a reason behind the abrupt disruption of Pule’s sleep and an explanation for the pitch darkness that cloaked the night. There was yet again on this night, as it had been throughout the week, an electricity power supply cut resulting in a countrywide blackout. Pule had over the years developed reduced resistance to the sweltering heat of his country and to offset the discomfort he slept with a large electric fan on. The smooth purr of the cooling appliance rarely failed to lull Pule into a deep, restful sleep but when there was an electricity power disruption, the whirling electrical appliance would drone angrily to a halt, cutting the cool breeze and would be quickly displaced by a dearth of fresh air coupled with an almost tangible sense of soaring temperatures.

Pule was careful not to wake up his sleeping wife as out of force of habit he turned to look at the familiar ruddy face of the clock on the television stand at the foot of the bed. The electric clock was off. Pule sighed unhappily with growing discontent and indignation at the rapid deterioration of living standards in his country, the land that was hitherto regarded as a quietly efficient, fast developing, middle-income country- a far cry from the years when Botswana was classified as one of the least developed countries in the world. Knowing that his wife was a good sleeper who could only be roused from sleep by significantly loud sounds or movement, Pule once again became victim to force of habit when he reached for the television remote control and pressed. He could hardly suppress a grunted swear word when he remembered that the television would be off, naturally. Although he usually slept well, Pule had an aversion for heat especially at night and he realised with growing irritability that moistures of perspiration were beginning to form under his armpits, on the forehead and behind the knees. With a heavy sigh, Pule rose as quietly as his elevated temperament could permit, careful that Moradi was not disturbed, and walked into their en suite bathroom. He would usually wet a towel to wipe sweat off his body before lying on the bed with the dripping towel covering his chest to reduce the heat, but Pule’s disrupted sleep was to go on an extended sabbatical when upon turning the tap he realised with dismay that there was no water coming out. A combination of lengthy electricity power cuts and water supply disruptions had been the order of the day for two years now, driving the nation into depression and despondency.

Unable to control his temper any further, Pule swore under his breath and lost his bearings trying to return to the bed in the dark. His leg struck the wooden stool in front of the dressing table and the pain made him cry out, more out of frustration than pain. He recalled irritably that his wife persistently reminded him to push back the stool into its place under the dressing table but since it was usually his favourite chair when chatting to Moradi in the bedroom, he would pull the stool out but forget to return it to its position. This was not the time to prove how right his wife was on many issues that generally caused him considerable discomfort. In his futile attempts to create as little noise as possible, Pule hastily moved to his side of the bed but the dry long towel that he was holding fell to his legs, tripping his movements. Pule fell and sprawled to the ground, and in his desperate attempts to hold on to something pulled the cloth on the dressing table on which Moradi’s makeup world rested. Bottles, tins and other items crashed to the tiled floor with a cacophony highlighted by the silence of the night.

“Honey? Pule? Are you okay?” Moradi asked sitting up on the bed, a little alarmed by the noise and the dark outline of her husband lying beside the bed.

“I’m fine, “Pule replied. “The power just went off.”

“And you’re trying to fix it honey?” asked Moradi with a hint of suppressed laughter in her voice……

 

HOLD IT!!!!


YET TO COME...




Wednesday, June 12, 2024



 This is my 2024 publication that I am very proud of. In this collection of short stories, I apply my profound views on a variety of themes, including gender, AIDS, conservation, wildlife in general, alcohol abuse, partisan politics and others. 

The most trying challenge was "making the animals speak" but I enjoyed the endeavour tremendously. 

My writing as a hobby, is not as dormant as it seems; I would say, it's not rushed but stable. I have finished revisions on my sequel "to Love on the rocks," the novel most of my readers seem to prefer, and I should be able to have it published in due course. 

My seriously noted publications include, "Rassie", by Macmillan Publishers, who also published "Love on the rocks"; and "Carjack", published by Longmans. 

I am also writing a rather memoiristic manuscript that depicts the light, and at times, humorous aspect of my experiences with Botswana Heads of State. It is not really a memoir, and neither is it biographical nor autobiographical. It is a capture of anecdotes that stand out in my mind, the little nuances and musings that we do not often associate with the gravity of the presidential responsibilities. The major inspiration in writing the said memoiristic work came from my wife, with whom I would share the anecdotes and light moments that to my amazement amused her immensely. 

My wife, Rassie, said to me: "You must write and share these anecdotes... people only write and speak about presidents as if they are not human. Don't write any secrets or confidentialities, just write as you tell me... it makes presidents so endearingly funny and human... don't ridicule, just say it as you told me over the decades, male it light and funny."

That is exactly what I am doing in the latter work that I have so far entitled "Corridors of Power."

Sunday, December 3, 2023


Illustrious moment with the Botswana 2024 WAFCON QUALIFIERS TEAM. A splendid match that ended with a 1 - 1 draw but revealed the prowess and talents of the Botswana national team. The 29th November 2023 match was a Nyayo Stadium in Nairobi, Kenya. The Kenyan Team was equally dazzling with speed and unrelenting energies to score but the defensive strategy of the Botswana Team thwarted many an attempt. 
With the Botswana 2024 WAFCON Team technical and management group in Nairobi Kenya. 

 

Diplomacy gives me East Africa

 

Presenting my Letters of Credence to President Paul Kagame of the Republic of Rwanda. That was in the city of Kigali
When your job is meeting people, meetings, conferences, accepting working and social dinners, appearing in public speaking events...you have to take care of the real doer: the body.
After touring the residence of the former and assassinated Leader of Rwanda, an event that sparked genocidal recriminations, and viewing remains of the presidential jet aircraft, my wife Rassie and I posed under this huge fig tree... washing away the strongest sentiments we've ever felt about the beastly shortcomings of people...
Striding but wrapped in the anxieties of every momentous occasion, I walk past the Guard towards the tall and lanky frame of President Kagame. 
Just as a little break, I am meeting the CEO of Nations Group Kenya, to discuss their hosting of the 2023 Kusi Ideas Festival in Gaborone Botswana on 7th to 8th December, 2023.
With the Burundi High Commissioner in her office. My diplomatic constituency covered Kenya, where I was based, Burundi, South Sudan, The Sudan, Uganda and Rwanda.
MY VERY FIRST EVER PRESENTATION OF CREDENTIALS TO THE CHIRPY AND ARTICULATE PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF KENYA, HIS EXCELLENCY. HONOURABLE, DR. WILLIAM SAMOEA RUTO
PRESENTATION MY MESSAGE TO PRESIDENT RUTO, THAT ENTAILED GREETINGS AND OTHER COMPLIMENTS FROM MY PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF BOTSWANA HIS EXCELLENCY DR MOKGWEETSI ERIC KEABETSWE MASISI
A HAND SHAKE FROM PRESIDENT H.E HON DR RUTO AND A MESSAGE FROM HIM TO MY PRESIDENT BACK HOME...CONDOLENCES OVER THE LATTER'S PASSING OF HIS MOTHER
THE TEAM OF DIPLOMATS THAT PRESENTED ON 7TH JUNE, 2023
LOOKING CALM BUT OVERWHELMED BY THE MOMENT
A COURTESY CALL LED BY THE YOUNG MOLTSWANA I HOLD IN THE HIGHEST ESTEEM, PROFESSOR MOSEPELE MOSEPELE, ON MY RIGHT. THEY WERE IN NAIROBI FOR A MEETING OF SCIENTISTS. PROFESSOR MOSEPELE AND I SERVED TOGETHER IN THE COVID-19 NATIONAL TASK FORCE CHAIRED BY HIS EXCELLENCY THE PRESIDENT. THAT ASSIGNMENT BONDED US TO THE SAME CAUSE OF SAVING LIVES AND ASSISTING OUR CHIEF CLIENT, THE PRESIDENT, TO NAVIGAYE THE VICISSITUDES OF THE PANDEMIC IN THE AMAZINGLY SUCCESSFUL WAY THAT HE DID.
RWANDA.... I LOVE THE SERENITY OF ITS PEOPLE
Break the fat, enhance work output; never say you don't have time
Preparing for the Kusi Ideas Festival 2023
The love of my life, Rassie.... we loved that fig tree, and because of the roots we stepped on, a colleague named the picture, "LOVE ON THE ROOTS"

Tuesday, May 11, 2021

HELLO FOLKS! 

I WILL BE RETURNING TO MY BLOG VERY SOON WITH AN UPDATE.

Suffices to say that after a 7 year assignment as Head of Communications at Bank of Botswana till 31st December 2018, I joined Office of the President on April 9, 2019, as Permanent Secretary, Government Communications. My contract ends 9th April, 2022, when I will be decommissioning myself into serious writing and 'potluck' farming. No, I am not a farmer; I just love growing plants... and raising chickens for the pot. Yes, I will put surplus to profitable use. 

I have a couple of finished manuscripts to publish as soon as I can 'inhale and exhale'. 3 manuscripts actually and some other creative works I work on for leisure.

Yes, I am still writing. I just want my next publications to be very serious writing, whether fiction or true narrative.

SEE YOU SOON! AND YES, I NEED TO SPRUCE UP MY BLOG. 



Thursday, January 24, 2019

NOTE ABOUT ADVERTISING

Kindly note that I am not responsible for the advertising content in this blog. Advertising is procured in the conventional manner of assuming that regulation thereof rests with appropriate authorities-  Andrew O Sesinyi