Reminiscing childhood countryside
Nostalgia hit BG Lifestyle Editor, Phemelo Ramasu in her inaugural participation in the annual Desert Bush walk, which dug out memories from childhood lifestyle for a young girl who was a herdboy.
This past Saturday, I finally made my big debut at the sixth annual DESERT BUSH WALK- Winter 2022. The event, has been running since 2014, and is one of the most popular events in the calendar of events in Southern Africa for hikers.
For years, I have heard how grueling this walk can be. I have heard about tales of hikers who almost wanted to give up. Even with all of these stories, I wanted to see for myself what the hullabaloo is all about. Let me start of by pointing out that I did not train at all, not even for five seconds. When I shared with people that I was going to be amongst the multitudes who were going to walk, people thought that I was crazy. And crazy I was. A big part of this walk is all about conquering the unknown, or the known infamous sand and pushing your body, and reaching your goals. Regardless of how many hours or minutes it takes to complete the walk, as soon as you are done, and you get your medals, the crazy ones are already planning their next adventure to return to Jwaneng for the big walk.
Back to my crazy self, what those who laughed at my cockiness did not know was that I grew up in this part of the country, true story. I am a proud product of this unforgiving sand. I grew up a few kilometers away from Jwaneng, Tlanege to be precise and this sand and terrain is all too familiar for me. I was raised in a traditional household, and going to masimo ( traditional farms) was a big part of my childhood. My late grandmother, Gorataone Kenyafetse and Ntate Keresepe who we fondly
called Rraagwe Montle, and Rremogolo David ( who are all late) literally trained me for this big debut. And they would have been so proud to see me sail through that sand, representing them.
On the morning of the walk, we departed from Gaborone, almost forty minutes after our intended departure time. For someone who was making her debut this was not good, as it meant that I would not have time to meditate before the event started. We arrived at Jwaneng, just after 0630, which also meant that we had missed the all- important warm up exercises. Upon arrival, we rushed to find the bathroom, before we were on our way to conquer the unforgiving sand.
We departed at 0716hrs, in a sea of multitudes of hikers. For the first twenty/ thirty minutes of the walk, we were literally not moving at all. Young, old, and from Botswana, South Africa and Lesotho, they came from everywhere. Colleagues, friends, family, couples and hiking club fanatics, everyone was ready for this big moment. Mind you, it has been two years since the last event was held. And so people have been hungry and yearning for the event.
One of the things that I realized earlier on the walk was that I was not dressed in the right gear for hiking. Professional hikers were carrying all sorts of gears, heavily packed backpacks, walking sticks, and even metal cups, I am yet to understand what the cups are meant to do. On our way, we went.
I had jokingly said that my target was 0.5km, and when we supposedly approached my target, I was teased about going back. Expert walkers who have experienced the walk previously, assured me that soon, there will
be breathing space. They were spot on, as soon as we hit the 2- 5km mark, this is where the two categories take different directions, people started to move in small groups.
The brave ones who were tackling the 30km took their path, and we moved straight on our track.
Earlier on, I remember passing a Water Utilities plant, which I would later use to mark whether I am near or still far. Back to the story, they do not joke when they say that the sand is unforgiving. The walk reminded me of my years of being a herdboy, yes I was a herd girl. I was raised in a family where there were more girls than boys, which meant that we did all chores. During the dry months, my grandfather would send us to take cattle to boreholes that were kilometers away. Our food package for that trip would be Kabu ( boiled maize), packed in a packet of Blue Crystal sugar. We would walk for hours with thirsty cattle, and you can imagine, the dust that we would be covered in, and the horror of walking on trail that is still ripe from cattle hooves.
I remember walking for what felt like the whole day. We would leave right after having tea and soft porridge, before the sun became unbearable, and we would arrive at our destination mid- day. We would then rest for a few minutes, and then return with misbehaving cattle that were now full, you can imagine the trauma of herding cattle in such circumstances. I am sure you get the picture of my background with the terrain.
At five kilometers, it felt like we had been walking for more than five kilometers. I vividly remember seeing this young boy, turns out he is ten years- old, his name is ‘ Lefa’. He is a
Standard 4 pupil at Acacia School, in Jwaneng. That hiker really had an unmatched pace. He was literally hopping through- out the whole 15km, I swear. He maintained that pace from start to finish, and even when most were in great pain, he was still hopping.
The five kilometer point allowed us the chance to get refreshments and for some to pose and take a few pictures. At that point, we were now literally starting to separate.
Those who were struggling were giving us the chance to overtake them. The terrain took us over the Trans Kalahari Highway, on another grueling trek heading back to Jwaneng from another direction. The thing about this walk that makes it what it is, is how one minute your feet are literally sinking, and the next minute, the sand appears to disappear, and you now have a hard surface to deal which, which gave us relief for a few steps, and then back to that sand again. I remember seeing these women who were wearing 911 t- shirts, and I jokingly asked them where the rescue scooter was, as I was about to throw in the towel.
At 9.5 kilometers, I thought to myself, we are almost there. But nope, we still had what felt like another fifty kilometers ahead. One thing that kept my group ( inclusive of Keba Tsimanyane, BG Editor, Justice Kavehamatui, and our Accounts Manager, Ronnie Molatlhwa sane during the walk was our dear colleague, Tsimanyane, who entertained us and diverted our attention from the pain at hand. While some were walking, sulking and cursing the sand, ours was a different one. In fact, Tsimanyane is one of the hikers who deserved to be given a special award as he entertained almost everyone, joining different groups through- out the way. We met with the brave 30km hikers at our 10km mark, and I was amazed to see some of them still looking very fresh including the ever energetic Rebaone Tswioo. Both the 15km and 30km were now left with 5km.
And boy that five kilometers was not easy at all. A point of relief came when we reached the 2.5km mark, where we were rewarded with stickers to signal that we were almost there. The only time that I stopped my walking buddies was to remove sand from my shoes, which were now adding an extra weight to my already tired feet.
I am happy to share that in our last stretch, my pace changed, I found a new energy, and even had enough energy to jog for the last seconds. We completed our 15km in three hours. Now, would I do this again, I can safely say that I would do it anytime. Next year, I am going to train, and be like one of those brave hikers, I am conquering 30km, mark my words.