Bye Bye Botswana

After seven months, circumstances demand that I should move on, leaving this beautiful country of Botswana where I was just beginning to understand the language. In the next few years, I shall be working for the African Union. I want to taste the life of a diplomat.

In the impending few months, I plan to undertake a crush course in French. I do speak some, but in Malawi I could hardly come across people to speak with on a daily basis, so the language hibernated a bit. I remember in 2006, when I sat on a panel of judges for a West African short story competition in Accra, Ghana, one judge from Gabon spoke no other language but French. Two other judges spoke no other language but English. So I was like among the blind, as they say. I was the only one who served as the interlink between the Gabonese and the other judges. In one particularly hilarious moment, Benjamin, a driver from the offices of the Pan African Writers Association (PAWA) came to the hotel to pick us. Unfortunately, I was upstairs in my room. Only Sylvie the Gabonese and the other guys were around. Now, the other judges wanted to inform Sylvie about the arrival of Benjamin, the driver. They thought hard but could not figure out. In the few days we had been together, they had somehow been able to pick out from the conversation between Sylvie and me the French definite article 'le,' whidch means "the" but it is used where the gender is masculin. So, to alert the lady, the guys shouted: "Le Benjamin!"

The muse seems to be alluding me these days - I don't know why. But I am not altogether surprised. This happens once in a while. There was a time I spent two years without writing a single line. I hope, however, that this time, it won't have to take that long.