by Tyler Majaga
CHAPTER TWO
AND SO THE STORY WENT
Brandon Chidzala is my name and turning thirteen two years ago made me a teenager. The 22ndof February 1992 was the night Jubilee Hospital in my home town of Francistown got to hear my first cry. I was born to a teacher and an aircraft engineer. Since birth, I had been living with my mum while my dad was studying Engineering in St. Alsace University, France. He only came home for good when I was six years old. Due to my parents’ successful careers, I was enrolled into John Mackenzie English Medium School for my first grade; a classy private school in the city center. That was where I met my best friend and, two weeks later his family moved into my neighborhood.
His name, by the way was Bagomotsi Moalosi, a talkative and argumentative character by nature. A good looking kid too, fair to say. He and I were two totally different people. I was always the reserved and shy type. He was a loner at times when things got tough though – which you could say was the only thing we almost shared. But then, despite our differences, we still remained best friends. We had been through a lot together as kids, and day by day, fight after fight, our bond grew stronger.
Botho, who was quite our nemesis-cum-friend and undisputed rival, also went to JMS along with his friends. A fight over who had the most toys back in pre-school had led to our status with the rich boy. He had held on to the tittle for so many years and when he finally lost it due to another rich boy having more than his, he started hating on everyone and got in to a fight with Bagomotsi one day when he offered to borrow him some of his toys. I got in to help a buddy in need and Botho automatically hated me too. Half way through Grade five though, his family moved to Bloemfontein in South Africa and the trouble was gone, leaving peace in Motsamai Street.
Since parting with Esther, I had told myself that I would wait for us to meet again. Therefore I was not seeing any girl. Bagomotsi and most of my friends had started dating. He had always mocked me for my policy to remain single until I'm reconciled with Esther, at times even teasing that I may be gay. But that did not change my intentions. It was true love, like I have fore-mentioned and true love is not easy to let go of sometimes. No matter how hard you try, you just feel you have to keep holding on.
His first girlfriend was doing when we were doing Grade seven. We were both thirteen, now teenagers even though we had not really experienced anything we had always dreamt of. But we were proud to be teens. The girl's name was Masego Dikgang, a catch who was in the same class with me. Her parents were rich, and it was alleged that they were shareholders in a Platinum mine in South Africa. I could only imagine how rich they were with that possession. Despite the fact that most guys didn't like her sarcasm and hard-to-get attitude, she was pretty.
Bagomotsi overlooked all that and wrote the girl a love letter – the primary school style – telling her everything he felt for her. I guess my relationship with Esther had inspired him. The cute, hard-to-get Masego fell for my boy’s charm and a few weeks after dating, she was a changed girl. She, at first, never ate with just anyone, except classy girls like her. She had this group of friends that she was usually with, who ran the lives of many poor Johns with their flair and beauty. But after Bagomotsi swept her off her feet, she quit the group and spent most of her time with Bagomotsi. They were truly in love, real love. Well, at least it was real love for him since she was his first love interest. I even felt a bit jealous because he spent a lot of time with her than me. She had totally taken over.
I remember this other time when we were waiting for our pick-up ride by the school gate, conversing about the day’s happenings. Masego appeared from nowhere, hugged my friend and they just got lost in their lovey-dove conversation. She was all smiles, holding his hand as they moved a few meters away from me. I honestly felt lost as I watched them shift to a love-filled tête-à-tête. I got a visit from thoughts of having another girlfriend but something just kept telling me that I should wait for Esther. I know I sounded and acted like a total dumb-head but hey, it was love and when love has taken over, the world stops.
‘Brandon, I think I won’t be able to go to the library with you today…’ his voice interrupted my day-dreams, ‘…I am staying behind with Masego for her swimming lessons so see you tomorrow’
‘You are not coming for the game as well?’ I asked somberly.
‘I’ll try but no promises. See you later buddy’ and they went back into the school, leaving me standing there alone. I couldn’t believe my best friend would do this to me, over a girl he had known for less than a year. They looked good together yes, but he was still my friend. Masego often came with us to the library, but whenever she did, I must say all they did was flirt, cuddle and kiss. Too big a world for twelve years olds but the reality of the twenty-first century was just that. I know I was pretty much starting to act like Janis Ian, but who cared?
But in the end our studying did pay off. Two months later we wrote our final exams and passed. She got a Merit, Bagomotsi and I got first class. Our parents were so happy and they got us our first cell phones. It was and it still is common in modern day Botswana to have your first cell phone when you start upper primary school so we finally got ours. I was overwhelmed when my parents handed me the parcel. Since I hardly asked for any girls’ numbers, the only contacts I had were Bagomotsi and my parents’.
Just before the exams, the School Head had announced that should our group pass more than the previous Grade sevens, they would throw a party for us. The day this was announced, everyone was so happy and fashion was the topic on everyone’s lips. Grade seven is usually just about the time when teenage-hood tendencies start to kick in – experimental habits like smoking, watching porn, in the most extreme cases, sexual intercourse as well as fashion – and the latter is by no means a close buddy with that stage. Girls start keeping it short and the boys make sure it all looks really expensive. A party like that would present a platform for the student community to flaunt all they had so the excitement that hung over the school was no gate-crusher.
As we were clearing our lockers that Friday afternoon just after the last examination sitting, some girls were emotional as they said their goodbyes to their boyfriends. It was a sad state of affairs and the heat was not helping the ill-fated, some of who collapsed in the rarest cases. It was just too sad for all of them, experiencing what I had experienced some four years before. Bagomotsi must have been one of the grieving ones because I never saw him until later that day.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ I asked the poor guy when I went to his house and found him playing with his portable game device. He looked depressed as he sat there all alone.
‘I’m cool man. Just a little stressed because of something Masego told me,’ he replied.
‘What’d she say?’ I got curious.
‘She might be leaving JMS next year, bra.’
‘But why would she do that?’
‘Same thing that happened to you and Esther’
‘Her parents are being transferred?’
‘Yeah man, but she’s not sure because they haven’t really said it officially to her. She just heard them talk about it,’ he bemoaned.
‘I’m sorry, man,’ and I hugged him, the same thing he did when my Esther left. He smiled when I let go of him.
We were very good friends, Bagomotsi and I, and I hoped the friendship would go on for a long time because with him, my life felt secure. I am sure that was how he also felt. No matter what hard life can knock you down, it is sometimes your friends who can pull you right up again. Friendship is an important aspect of life and even though some will leave at some point, you should always have that one friend who will be there for you and love you unconditionally. For me, Bagomotsi was that friend. God had thrust us upon each other.