When The Star of An Unsung Hero Fades – A Tribute to Emmanuel “Shakes” Letshwiti

In the midst of the lockdown anxiety the last thing one wishes to hear is news of demise, much less that of an associate.

Recently, we woke to the heart-rending news of the passing on of one of my boyhood heroes, Emmanuel “Shakes” Letshwiti. One of the greatest footballers to emerge from the soccer rich village of Mogobane, who not only flourished on the village green but went on to shine in the country’s Premier League where he eventually coached after hanging his boots.

My mind raced back and forth retrieving memories.

In the early to mid ‘80s, Independence Day Celebrations were a big deal in the village. The quiet village, endowed with picturesque and scenic views of the mythical Lentswe la Baratani (in part), the now popular Dam and Dipopolere trees (with the attendant greenery), would spring to life.

People would gather at the kgotla for some serious festivities, with primary schools kids proudly waving small flags of the Republic. The procession from the school to the kgotla would always be led by a visiting troop of Boy Scouts from Moeding College, a school in nearby Otse, then held in revered admiration by the village folk. Gaborone people had BDF at the Stadium for their Independence Day

Celebrations, we had the Boy Scouts at the Kgotla, and boy did we have a ball!

The loud drumbeat would fill the morning air and hijack everyone’s attention. Skilfully flourishing the mace at the head of this parade was a young man whose mesmerising artistry drew deafening ululations from the mothers. The stretch from the school to the kgotla generously allowed spectators to eat from the palm of his hand.

The icing on the cake was that unlike the majority of his mates, this drum major was a son of the village.

Often times concluding the independence menu, would be a dessert of delightful football in the afternoon. If Golden Stars featured in the game, that young man would, with equal vigour, swop his khakhi boy scout uniform for the golden jersey. Marshalling the defence with a good dose of acrobatic bicycle kicks, he led from the back. This would become a prominent feature throughout his lengthy playing career.

It was no surprise that he elevated to ply his trade in the country’s top flight with Prisons XI, his employer’s team. One game that stands out for me was a promotional play-off in either ‘92 or ‘93 in Francistown, against one of the Francistown sides whose name eludes my memory.

The home side were leading 2-0 and Prisons had to fight from behind. The game intensified after the visitors had pulled one back and hungrily searched for an equaliser. As the team committed more men upfront, he remained as part of the ‘skeletal staff’ at the rear charged with not only thwarting further attacks but pumping all balls towards the opponent’s box.

The efforts paid off when that trusted left foot delivered a corner kick that a teammate headed home in the dying minutes of the game. That late equaliser saw them march to the then Super League the next season.

If football had been his religion, Mogobane Golden Stars would have been his church. His passionate love for this team could perhaps only be rivalled by his passion for the game. Even as he was playing in the elite league he would be home every festive season to lead the team at the Christmas tournaments as player-coach.

The discipline he brought to the team was either influenced by his professional background as a member of the disciplined forces or his passion for the team and the sport. It was enormous.

From his players, he insisted on, and maintained exam room silence during football practice sessions. He would be the only voice bellowing instructions with a serious no nonsense gaze. Immediately after practice that face would change to a wide reassuring smile as he would embrace and put his arm around especially those players he noticed to have been struggling with the demanding physical exercises.

His coaching acumen turned this team into a ruthless mean machine that won a lot of these tournaments. He turned ordinary players into extra ordinary stars. He earned the respect of even players who were his age mates. Even with his knowledge of the game and achievements he still respected and deferred to the team elders.

Amongst others he has coached BR Highlanders and Prisons XI.

As fate would have it, the lockdown abnormal normal would allow only a small number to attend the funeral of a man who in his life had delighted multitudes and wowed them with his God given skills. A great multitude would definitely have preferred a physical attendance to bid fare well to this worthy son of the village soil. However, the member of the disciplined forces in him would probably take comfort that people obeyed the authorities’ instructions like his players would obey his.

One last salute to the Superintendent, one last standing ovation to the coach, one last applause to the player, one last ululation to the drum major!

Thank you for your service and Fare the well Shakes