Segametsi Moumakwa's Blog, page 2

Redemption Reader Review – 14

Lynnet Arlaat wrote I just finished reading Redemption. Wow, I just don’t have a word bigger than awesome. I felt like I took that journey with Macy.En her new group of friends? Love them all. I sooo loved the ending, Perhaps book 3 Segametsi? I cannot wait to have friends read it so that we can talk about it. #Redemption #TheSetUpNovel

Rest in peace Madiba!

This week I have been pre-occupied with everything Mandela! From Facebook to twitter, CNN, eNCA and Sky news.

I took my 10 year old son to see “Long walk to freedom” on Monday. He kept asking me where I was when “those things were happening”. Well I was in Bophuthatswana, one of the homelands created by the apartheid government.

But I can clearly remember some of the things from the radio- some and not all, I guess because of censorships. And I can clearly remember visiting relatives in Soweto, and seeing graffiti and burnt up buildings, but I did not connect the dots until I was older.

Tuesday I watched the Mandela memorial on eNCA. If truth be told I was more interested in the ordinary people’s stories, those who braved the wet weather to pay their last respects. Did we really need the BRICs leaders? But Obama’s speech was very good, as expected (albeit ironic), and Castro.

And OMG! From rainbow nation to rainboo nation?

And the fake interpreter who is “a champion of sign language”! Comedians have enough material for the next couple of years! And if they make a Mandela movie, who do you think should play the fake interpreter? Lol

Wednesday was my chance to say goodbye to the father of the nation. We waited for five hours at LC de Villiers Sport Ground, cooler box, camping chair and food. Fortunately the Pretoria weather was kind. Around 14h30 when I was beginning to lose, we finally boarded the bus to the Union Buildings.

It was a sobering moment when I saw Madiba, lying there, lifeless. The end of an era.

And I was able to comment about my Madiba moment on radio 702 during Xolani Gwala’s show! That just made my day even more special!

Rest in peace Madiba

There is no passion to be found playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.

- N Mandela

Boitshepo: Work in progress

It is very interesting and challenging to be writing this novel in my mother tongue. I am enjoying it because I feel that it is overdue, and because on some level I feel that I am making a contribution towards the preservation of my language. I am also hoping that maybe someone somewhere will see it fit to prescribe it for schools. If not I am hoping that some schools will at least stock it in their libraries.

I have no doubt that the kids would love it because 1) I specifically targeted them when I wrote it 2) It deals with current topical issues that teenagers face 3) I tried to write it in a simple and humorous narrative.

One of the challenging part of writing it is trying to find suitable Setswana words for some terms. Sometimes simple words, like “steak”! I posted on Facebook for help, and my friends suggested a whole lot of translations, “sesuma” being one of them that I can recall off the top of my head .

But at the end of it all, we all agreed that even though I am writing in Setswana, the book should not need a dictionary to be understood. Therefore I settled on the borrowed version of the word- “seteiki”.

Follow this blog for updates. I will try to post something about the book every Friday.

The book “Boitshepo” will be available in March 2014.

Go tswa bukeng ya ka ya Setswana: Boitshepo

Tla ke go ngathele go tswa bukeng ya ka e ntshwa ya Setswana. E bidiwa Boitshepo, mme e tla phasaladiwa ka Mopitlwe. Nka itumelela go utlwa maikutlo a gago.

1

Maleka ga se makgona, makgona ke maboeletsa.

Boitshepo o ne a santse a itebeletse mo seiponeng, a kgatlhegile ka mokgwa o di skinny jeans tsa gagwe di mo nnang ka teng. Di ne di mo ngaparetse e kare di segetswe mo go ene. O ne a di aparetse ka hempe e tshweu, e nang le dikonopo tse dihibidu, mo matsogong a hempe go le gohibidu mo a menwang teng mo. Ditlhako a tsentse tse di bohibidu go tsamaelane le hempe, di na le serethe se se seng ko godimo, ebile se se ko tlase. Ditlhako le bokate o ne a di reketswe ke mmaagwe go tswa New York, kgwedi tse mmalwa tse di fetileng. Malengana e le a di konopo, a o fitlhelang a bakasela o kare ditaemane. Fa o re o lebelela moriri, o ne a o logilwe disingle, mme a o bofile lephondo le le fa, le le tshwarelwang mo gare ga tlhogo.

Ga a fetsa go kgotsofalela ka moo a lebegang ka teng a ntsha seitshaso sa molomo. Wa se bona se se elelang se, se o fitlhelang se phatsima thata o ka re mafura a oli? A itlepesetsa ka sone mo dipounameng. Se ne se le mmala o tsamaelanang le wa dipounama tsa gagwe, ka jalo go sa bontshe gore o itshasitse sengwe, go bonala thata gone go bakasela fela. Go ya ka ene o ne a ratile go ka itshasa se se khibidu go tsamaisana le diaparo tsa gagwe. Fela o ne a tshaba gore MmaItseng o tla mo kgala.

A tshikela ka fa le ka fa, go bona gore a tsotlhe di apere tshiamo.E rile a santse a re o tla tshika go itebelela ka letlhakore  le lengwe, lentswe la ga MmaItseng la bo le tla le tlhabeleditse, le mo itaya tsebe.

“Ago! Naare mosetsana ke wena  o dirang? A kere ke go reile ka re o ipaakanye re ya kerekeng? Ga o bone gore ke nako mang o nnetse go dikologa jaana?”

“But Gran, ke ready!” a araba, a makaletse gore a kampo matlho a mosadimogolo ga a bone bontle jo ene a bo bonang.

“Ready? Ready kae ka marokgwe a disomongaga? Re ya kerekeng ga re ye di katareng! Apola dilo tseo o apare mosese! Direla ka pele, ga ke tle go tsena thari ko kerekeng ka ntlha ya gago mosetsana!” MmaItseng o bua jaana, matlho a gagwe a tomogile go bontsha gore o fedile pelo. A tsamaya go naya Boitshepo sebaka sa go fetola diaparo jaaka a mo laetse.

E ne e setse e le sebaka sa beke Boitshepo a nna le MmaItseng le RaItseng, lekgetlo la ntlha a nna sebaka se se telele jaana le bone. Makgetlho a o ikileng a tla go ba bona, o ne a aga a tla le mmaagwe, ebong Itseng. Le teng ba ne ba seke ba nna sebaka. E ne e le dilo tsa go tsena ba tswa, ke gore ga ba gorogile Labotlhano maitsiboa, Sontaga motshegare ba bo ba namela N4 gape ba leba Tshwane. Jaanong ke yo, o feditse beke a le nosi le botlhogoputswa, morago ga gore mmaagwe a mo tlise, a sena go mmolella gore o ya moseja ka mmereko, fa rraagwe a ya Kapa conferenseng. Boitshepo o ne a sa tlhaloganye gore goreng mmaagwe a tla batla go mo phuaganya kgwedi yotlhe, ko motseng wa Dinokeng, o o senang ditsela, dijarata tsa teng di ditlhaga kampo di dithole ka di sa alwa sepe, ebile motlakase o tsamaya beke le beke. Mme ga se gone gotlhe. Ga e sale a fitlha fa, ga a kgone go bona thekenoloji ya 3G mo mogaleng wa gagwe, se se kaya gore ga a kgone le go ka kwala mo lebotaneng la gagwe gongwe go tlhola maemo a ditsala tsa gagwe mo Facebook.

Ga a nagana dibeke tse di setseng pele kgwedi e fela, pele a tlaa boela gae, a bona o kare di lekana le ngwaga otlhe. O lekile go rapela mmaagwe gore ba mo tlogele ko ntlong le mothusi wa bone, MaThato, ka gonne o ne setse a tlwaetse go sala le ene fa ba tsamaile ka mmereko, fela seo ga se a thusa. Rraagwe o ne a mmolella gore go mo tlogela le mothusi kgwedi yotlhe go ka se kgonege, “it’s out of question Tshephi”, ke ka mokgwa o a e beileng ka teng. O ne a leka go tlhalosa gore kana ga se ngwana, o na le dingwaga di le sometlhano, a leka go lela, go gana dijo, go gana go bua le bone fela tsotlhe tseo ya nna tsa lefela.

Fa a santse a ja marapo a tlhogo ka bothata jo, a itharabologelwa ka pele fa a utlwa mosito wa dinao tsa ga MmaItseng. Ke ga a bula raka ya diaparo ka lepotlapotla, a ntsha mosese wa ntlha o a o bonang, a apara ka bonako jwa legadima.

“Bathong, mosese oo go tshwana fela le ga o sa apara, bona jaaka marago a tswetse ko ntle!” MmaItseng a bua a lebeletse mosese wa gagwe. “Ija, tla re tsamaye, go seng jalo ga nka ya ka wena ke a go fitlha moruti a rera.”

Boitshepo a baya letsogo mo molomong go thibela gore MmaItseng a seka a bona gore o hupetswe ke ditshego. Kana ga a ne a ka bona gore wa tshega, o ne a tlile go mo omonya.

MmaItseng, a ikgateletse ka seaparo sa gagwe sa bomme ba thapelo – sekete se sentsho, hempe e ntsho e e nang le bebe e tshweu, le hutse e tshweu- mme a di feleleditse ka ditlhako tsa di kwaekwae tshe dintsho. Malengana a di pearl a ne a kgabisitse ditsebe. Ga e sale a fitlha, Boitshepo e ne e le gone a mmonang a sa apara dikhiba tsa letoisi tse a tlwaetseng go di apara mo gare ga beke, le tuku e a sekeng a tlhoka go e rwala. A utlwa a gopola mmaagwe thata, ka ntlha ya gore e ne e le gone a lemogang gore mmaagwemogolo le mmagwe ba tota ba tshwana. Mo letlhakoreng le lengwe, ene o ne a tsere tshobotsi ya ga rraagwe, go tloga ka mmala wa letlalo o o dithupa-tsa-maretlwa, go ya ka nko e ntlenyane, e e tseetsweng matsapa.

“You looking great Gran,” ke ga babatsa mmaagwemogolo.

“Ke a leboga ngwanaka. Tla re ye. RaItseng le ene ke solofela a fedile pelo. Ke yole o re emetse ko koloing!”

Motho yo o bonolo RaItseng, a se bogale jaaka MmaItseng. Boitshepo o ne a ise a bo a utlwe a tsholeditse lentse. Se a neng a ithatela go se dira fela ke go tlhokomela tshingwana ya gagwe ya merogo e e neng e le fa thoko ga ntlo. O ne a jwetse sipinitshi, ditamati, digwete, le dierekisi. Moso le moso, maitsiboa mangwe le mangwe, ga o ne o mo tlhoka o ne o tshwanetse go mmatlela ko tshimong. Fela mosong ono o ne a apere sutu e tshetlha, ka hempe e tsheu a bo a e gatisa ka thae e ntsho. O ne a ba emetse mo kolotsaneng ya gagwe ya Toyota Corolla, a sa bontshe go fela pelo.

Morago ga kereke MmaItseng o ne a tla le tsala ya gagwe ya ko mokgatlhong. O ne a na le mosimane wa go ka lekana le Boitshepo ka dingwaga, fela a le moleelenyana.

Mo tseleng, ke ga MmaItseng a itsise baeng ba mo go Boitshepo.

“Ke ngwana wa ngwanake yo. Wa ga Itseng. Boitshepo, ke MmaItumeleng le Itumeleng. Dumedisa.”

“Hello,” Boitshepo a araba.

“Hallo mma,” ga araba MmaItumeleng a bua a tshega. “Hei, bana ba makgoa.”

MmaItseng ene ke ga a sa kgatlhega. “Boitshepo, go a twe: Dumelang bo mma!”

“Sorry,” Boitshepo a araba.

MmaItumeleng a ba a swa ka ditshego gape. “Waai mo tlogele tlhe. A kere ba goletse mo ditoropong.”

RaItseng ene jaaka gale, a itidimaletse, a lebeletse fela gore koloi e seka ya wela mo dikhuting tse di tletseng mo tseleng, gongwe go thula matlapa a neng a ka senyetsa motho koloi.

Itumeleng, yo o neng a ntse mo setulong se se kwa morago, mmagwe le Boitshepo ba mo tsentse fo gare, le ene a ikhwanya ka ditshego. O ne a didimala ka bonako ga a bone Boitshepo a mo dilola.

“Ee ba goletse mo ditoropong, fela ga ba le mo gae ba tshwanetse ba ithute,” ga bua MmaItseng. “Seo se tla diragala fela fa a tsaya matsapa, a leka. Maleka ga se makgona, makgona ke maboeletsa. Ga go jalo Itumeleng?”

“Ee mma,” Itumeleng a araba a lebeletse Boitshepo, yo o neng a mo ikgatholositse, a lebeletse kwa ntle ka letlhabaphefo.

Boitshepo a nagana gore ke sengwe sa dilo tse dingwe tse di dirang gore a batle gore nako e tsamaele ka pele gore a kgone go boela gabone ko Centurion. O ne a ikutlwa gore ga tsamaisane le lefelo le. Sa ntlha, MmaItseng o bua Setswana se se thata. Ga a mo araba, o batla gore le ene a dirise Setswana. Fela Setswana se a se itseng, ke se a se ithutileng go tswa go mmaagwe. Le teng mmaagwe o se bua a se tlhakanya le sekgoa. Sa bobedi, kereke ya fa e tsaya sebaka, diura di le tharo. Le gale gone e ne e le monate. Ke gore fela ene kereke e a e tlwaetseng, e tsaya fela ura. Ka jalo o ne a sa solofela gore o tlile go tlhola tsatsi lotlhe fa. O tla tshwanelwa ke go itshoka, go santse go setse Sontaga di le tharo.

O nagana jaana a lebile ko ntle ka letlhabaphefo, a ikgatholositse mosimanyana yo a bapileng le ene. Dithole di ne di kuile fo koloing e fetileng teng, di gasa batsamaya ka dinao. MmaItseng le MmaItumeleng bone ke ga ba setse ba le mo dipolotiking tsa bone tsa mokgatlho.

“O shapo?” a utlwa Itumeleng a bua.

Boitshepo a mo gadima gangwe fela a ba a boa a lebella ko ntle gape.

“Eish, bana ba makgoa! Ne ke re are you okay?” Itumeleng a bua  ka lentse le le tletseng ditshego.

“I heard you first time, ga ke setlaela,” Boitshepo a mo kgakgautha.

“Jaanong ntlha ga o arabe? Ke tla itse jang gore o nkutlwile?”

Boitshepo a bala go fitlhela ka lesome mo pelong, fela gore maikutlo a gagwe a wele. A lebella Itumeleng gape, mme a fitlhela a mo tlhomile matlho, a na le monyebo o ka gangwe fela o ne wa mo lebatsa gore kana o ne a batla go mo raya a reng. A bona gore se se botoka ke gore a itebelele ko ntle gape.

“Go siame ga o sa batle go bua le nna Boitshepo,” Itumeleng a bua, a tsholeditse lentse. O ne a dira ka bomo gore mmaagwe le MmaItseng ba mo utlwe.

“Tshepi, molato ke’ng o sa batle go bua le Itumeleng? O tla dira ditsala jang ga o bifela batho jaana?” MmaItseng a botsa.

Ka sebaka seo RaItseng ke ga a baya koloi ka fa tlase ga setllhare sa modutu, go e tshabisa mogote wa selemo. Ka letlhogonolo ba ne ba setse ba fitlhile mo gae, ka jalo ga boloka Boitshepo go araba gore goreng a sa bua le Itumeleng. O ne a setse a feditse le mogopolo wa gagwe gore Itumeleng wa tena, le gore a kampane a nna a sena ditsala gona le gore a tsalane le ene. O ne a tena jaaka monang o o fitlhelang o boka mo tsebeng ya motho bosigo.

Gone go lebega o kare monang o, a ka se kgone go o koba ka gore MmaItseng ke ga a setse a mmitsa gore a tle go mo thusa ba tsholele baeng dijo tsa motshegare. A tshwanela gape ke go nna go bapa le monang o fa ba ja, a reeditse fa monang o ntse o mmotsa dipotso. Ga ba kabo ba ne ba le babedi fela, nkabo a mo ikgatholosa. Jaanong MmaItseng o ne a mmeile leitlho, le MmaItumeleng, go ne go sena ka mokgwa o mongwe.

“O tlile leng?” ga botsa Itumeleng.

“Last Sunday,” Boitshepo a araba, a sa tlose matlho mo dijong tsa gagwe.

“O boa leng,” Itumeleng a botsa, ka nako eo a kodumetsa galase ya Coke.

Boitshepo ke ga a nagana, a ipona a nanabelela monang a ba a o pinyelela a o bolaya pele o ka kgona go siya.

“O tlile go nna kgwedi yotlhe,” MmaItseng a araba ga a bona Boitshepo a tsupile molomo.

“A dikolo tsa lona di tswetse?” Itumeleng a botsa gape, a ntse a itatswa menwana.

“No!” Ka gore a ka se kgone go bolaya monang o, Boitshepo a bona gore a arabe ka bokhutshwane, gongwe o tla lemoga gore ga a batle go bua le ene.

“Jaanong ga o tle go salla ko morago ko sekolong? Eish o kare nka nna mo gae kgwedi yotlhe,” ke Itumeleng, a tshega.

Le ga a ne a mo tena jaaka monang, Boitshepo a iphitlhela a nyeba fa a utlwa ka mokgwa o Itumeleng a tshegang ka teng. A lemoga gore ke raditshwegana, o e reng ga a tshega, setshego sa gagwe se go gogele gore le wena o iphitlhele o tshega, le ga o sa itse gore o tshegang.

“Nnyaya Itumeleng, Boitshepo a ka se nne mo gae kgwedi yotlhe,” MmaItseng a araba, a ba a tsaya lesela la go iphumola, a iphumola molomo.

Ga a utlwa MmaItseng a rialo, Boitshepo a tlala tshepo ya gore ka gongwe dilo di fetogile, o tlile go boela Tshwane. A tshwara moa wa gagwe, a emetse gore MmaItseng a tlhalose.

“Ke buile le MmaMotse ko kerekeng gompieno, mogokgo wa ko Serankure, ka mo tlhalosetsa. A re Tshepi a ka nna a tla go tsena ko go ena ga a santse a lefa. Ke ne ke tlile go go bolella kgantele Tshepi, jaanong ka gore radipotso Itumeleng ke yo o nnetse go botsa, ke one ao.”

“Boitshepo o tla ko Serankure? Ke sekolo sa me seo. Ke tla tla go go tsaya kamoso phakela, o seka wa wara,” Itumeleng a bua ka boipelo.

“Nnyaya Tumi, ka gore ke letsatsi la gagwe la ntlha, ke tshwanetse ke tsamae le ene. Le gale o ka tla go mo tsaya go simolla ka Labobedi, akere.”

“Ee mma,” Itumeleng a araba.

Boitshepo ke ga a sa dumele se a se utlwang. Santlha mmaagwe o mo latlhela mo motseng a le nosi, sa bobedi o tshwanetse go ya ko sekolong se seshwa. Go dira dilo maswe le go feta, sekolo se Itumeleng, mothong yo a sa mmeeng sebete a yang ko go sona! A tlala pelo, matlho a gagwe a seka dikeledi. O ne a itse gore le ga a ka re wa gana, MmaItseng o ne a ka se mo reetse. Ga a mmotse le go mmotsa gore a o batla go ya ko sekolong seo. Ga a fetsa o mmolella mo gare ga batho, gona le gore a mmolelle ba le babedi le go utlwa gore o ikutlwa jang. MmaItseng ke mosadi yo o setlhogo, yo o sa kgathaleleng maikutlo a batho.

“Excuse me,” a bua a emelela ka bonako, go ya ko kamoreng pele ba bona gore o tutetse pelo.

Ga a fitlha ko kamoreng a batla mogala wa gagwe, gore a leletse rraagwe go llela mo go ene. A fitlhela beterii e fedile. Ga a re o e tlhomela mo polakeng go e tsosolosa, motlakase ga o yo – ga e sale o tsamaile mo mosong pele ba ya kerekeng! Mogala wa Telkom o ne o le teng mo ntlung, fela o sa bereke. MmaItseng o sale a bua gore ga e sale magodu a utswitse megala ya koporo e e dirisiwang ke megala e ngwaga o o fetileng.

A itatlhela mo go dimo ga bolao, a lemoga gore o nosi. Dikeledi tsa elela mo marameng a gagwe. Goreng batsadi ba gagwe ba ka mo tlisa fa?  Mo lefelong le e leng gore ga kgone le go ka ikgolaganya le bone nako nngwe le nngwe e a batlang? A gone ba a itse gore MmaItseng o mo kwadisitse ko sekolong ntle le go bua le ene? E seng gore ke matshaba sekolo, ke fela gore batsadi ba gagwe ba mo tlwaeditse go bua le ene pele ba tsaya tshwetso ka sengwe le sengwe se se mo amang. Ga a tlwaela go bolellwa fela, ko ntle ga go bodiwa gore o ikutlwa jang.

Ga a nagana sentle, batsadi ba gagwe ga ba a ka ba mmotsa gore o ikutlwa jang ka go tla go nna le MmaItseng. A lemoga gore ke sone se se dirang gore a fitlhela go le bothata go tlhaloganya. Ke lantlha ba mo dira jalo, ebile o solofela gore ke la bofelo.

“Tshepi, tla o re tshelle custard, le tle le tlhatswe dijana le Itumeleng,” a utlwa MmaItseng a mmitsa. A itse gore o tshwanetse go beela kutlobotlhoko ya gagwe ko thoko, a dire jaaka a bolellwa. Beke tse tharo fela, a ikgothatsa.

Ba fetsa go tlhatswa dijana, ka nako yotlhe a reeditse Itumeleng a mmolella ka ditsala tsa gagwe tsa ko Serankure le barutabana. Boitshepo a dira o ka re o reeditse mme tota tlhaloganyo ya gagwe e se foo.

Moragonyana MmaItumeleng a leboga MmaItseng le Raitseng, le go laela.

“Re lebogetse dijo Tshepi, a kere,” MmaItumeleng a bua a mo phophotha mo legetleng.

“Ee,” Boitshepo a araba.

“Ee mma!” MmaItseng a mo tlatsa, a gatella lefoko “mma”.

“Ee mma,” Boitshepo a ipoeletsa, a digile matlho a sa lebelle Itumeleng. Le ga a ne a sa mo lebella, fela a itse gore sefatlhego sa gagwe se a bo se tletse ditshego.

“Ke tla go bona kamoso Tshepi!” a utlwa Itumeleng a mo laela.

E tlile go nna dibeke tse tharo tse di leele mo botshelong jwa gagwe!

-Bokhutlo ba 1-

Reka buka fa:

Boitshepo

Go tswa bukeng ya ka ya Setswana: Boitshepo

Tla ke go ngathele go tswa bukeng ya ka e ntshwa ya Setswana. E bidiwa Boitshepo, mme e tla phasaladiwa ka Mopitlwe. Nka itumelela go utlwa maikutlo a gago.

1

Maleka ga se makgona, makgona ke maboeletsa.

Boitshepo o ne a santse a itebeletse mo seiponeng, a kgatlhegile ka mokgwa o di skinny jeans tsa gagwe di mo nnang ka teng. Di ne di mo ngaparetse e kare di segetswe mo go ene. O ne a di aparetse ka hempe e tshweu, e nang le dikonopo tse dihibidu, mo matsogong a hempe go le gohibidu mo a menwang teng mo. Ditlhako a tsentse tse di bohibidu go tsamaelane le hempe, di na le serethe se se seng ko godimo, ebile se se ko tlase. Ditlhako le bokate o ne a di reketswe ke mmaagwe go tswa New York, kgwedi tse mmalwa tse di fetileng. Malengana e le a di konopo, a o fitlhelang a bakasela o kare ditaemane. Fa o re o lebelela moriri, o ne a o logilwe disingle, mme a o bofile lephondo le le fa, le le tshwarelwang mo gare ga tlhogo.

Ga a fetsa go kgotsofalela ka moo a lebegang ka teng a ntsha seitshaso sa molomo. Wa se bona se se elelang se, se o fitlhelang se phatsima thata o ka re mafura a oli? A itlepesetsa ka sone mo dipounameng. Se ne se le mmala o tsamaelanang le wa dipounama tsa gagwe, ka jalo go sa bontshe gore o itshasitse sengwe, go bonala thata gone go bakasela fela. Go ya ka ene o ne a ratile go ka itshasa se se khibidu go tsamaisana le diaparo tsa gagwe. Fela o ne a tshaba gore MmaItseng o tla mo kgala.

A tshikela ka fa le ka fa, go bona gore a tsotlhe di apere tshiamo.E rile a santse a re o tla tshika go itebelela ka letlhakore  le lengwe, lentswe la ga MmaItseng la bo le tla le tlhabeleditse, le mo itaya tsebe.

“Ago! Naare mosetsana ke wena  o dirang? A kere ke go reile ka re o ipaakanye re ya kerekeng? Ga o bone gore ke nako mang o nnetse go dikologa jaana?”

“But Gran, ke ready!” a araba, a makaletse gore a kampo matlho a mosadimogolo ga a bone bontle jo ene a bo bonang.

“Ready? Ready kae ka marokgwe a disomongaga? Re ya kerekeng ga re ye di katareng! Apola dilo tseo o apare mosese! Direla ka pele, ga ke tle go tsena thari ko kerekeng ka ntlha ya gago mosetsana!” MmaItseng o bua jaana, matlho a gagwe a tomogile go bontsha gore o fedile pelo. A tsamaya go naya Boitshepo sebaka sa go fetola diaparo jaaka a mo laetse.

E ne e setse e le sebaka sa beke Boitshepo a nna le MmaItseng le RaItseng, lekgetlo la ntlha a nna sebaka se se telele jaana le bone. Makgetlho a o ikileng a tla go ba bona, o ne a aga a tla le mmaagwe, ebong Itseng. Le teng ba ne ba seke ba nna sebaka. E ne e le dilo tsa go tsena ba tswa, ke gore ga ba gorogile Labotlhano maitsiboa, Sontaga motshegare ba bo ba namela N4 gape ba leba Tshwane. Jaanong ke yo, o feditse beke a le nosi le botlhogoputswa, morago ga gore mmaagwe a mo tlise, a sena go mmolella gore o ya moseja ka mmereko, fa rraagwe a ya Kapa conferenseng. Boitshepo o ne a sa tlhaloganye gore goreng mmaagwe a tla batla go mo phuaganya kgwedi yotlhe, ko motseng wa Dinokeng, o o senang ditsela, dijarata tsa teng di ditlhaga kampo di dithole ka di sa alwa sepe, ebile motlakase o tsamaya beke le beke. Mme ga se gone gotlhe. Ga e sale a fitlha fa, ga a kgone go bona thekenoloji ya 3G mo mogaleng wa gagwe, se se kaya gore ga a kgone le go ka kwala mo lebotaneng la gagwe gongwe go tlhola maemo a ditsala tsa gagwe mo Facebook.

Ga a nagana dibeke tse di setseng pele kgwedi e fela, pele a tlaa boela gae, a bona o kare di lekana le ngwaga otlhe. O lekile go rapela mmaagwe gore ba mo tlogele ko ntlong le mothusi wa bone, MaThato, ka gonne o ne setse a tlwaetse go sala le ene fa ba tsamaile ka mmereko, fela seo ga se a thusa. Rraagwe o ne a mmolella gore go mo tlogela le mothusi kgwedi yotlhe go ka se kgonege, “it’s out of question Tshephi”, ke ka mokgwa o a e beileng ka teng. O ne a leka go tlhalosa gore kana ga se ngwana, o na le dingwaga di le sometlhano, a leka go lela, go gana dijo, go gana go bua le bone fela tsotlhe tseo ya nna tsa lefela.

Fa a santse a ja marapo a tlhogo ka bothata jo, a itharabologelwa ka pele fa a utlwa mosito wa dinao tsa ga MmaItseng. Ke ga a bula raka ya diaparo ka lepotlapotla, a ntsha mosese wa ntlha o a o bonang, a apara ka bonako jwa legadima.

“Bathong, mosese oo go tshwana fela le ga o sa apara, bona jaaka marago a tswetse ko ntle!” MmaItseng a bua a lebeletse mosese wa gagwe. “Ija, tla re tsamaye, go seng jalo ga nka ya ka wena ke a go fitlha moruti a rera.”

Boitshepo a baya letsogo mo molomong go thibela gore MmaItseng a seka a bona gore o hupetswe ke ditshego. Kana ga a ne a ka bona gore wa tshega, o ne a tlile go mo omonya.

MmaItseng, a ikgateletse ka seaparo sa gagwe sa bomme ba thapelo – sekete se sentsho, hempe e ntsho e e nang le bebe e tshweu, le hutse e tshweu- mme a di feleleditse ka ditlhako tsa di kwaekwae tshe dintsho. Malengana a di pearl a ne a kgabisitse ditsebe. Ga e sale a fitlha, Boitshepo e ne e le gone a mmonang a sa apara dikhiba tsa letoisi tse a tlwaetseng go di apara mo gare ga beke, le tuku e a sekeng a tlhoka go e rwala. A utlwa a gopola mmaagwe thata, ka ntlha ya gore e ne e le gone a lemogang gore mmaagwemogolo le mmagwe ba tota ba tshwana. Mo letlhakoreng le lengwe, ene o ne a tsere tshobotsi ya ga rraagwe, go tloga ka mmala wa letlalo o o dithupa-tsa-maretlwa, go ya ka nko e ntlenyane, e e tseetsweng matsapa.

“You looking great Gran,” ke ga babatsa mmaagwemogolo.

“Ke a leboga ngwanaka. Tla re ye. RaItseng le ene ke solofela a fedile pelo. Ke yole o re emetse ko koloing!”

Motho yo o bonolo RaItseng, a se bogale jaaka MmaItseng. Boitshepo o ne a ise a bo a utlwe a tsholeditse lentse. Se a neng a ithatela go se dira fela ke go tlhokomela tshingwana ya gagwe ya merogo e e neng e le fa thoko ga ntlo. O ne a jwetse sipinitshi, ditamati, digwete, le dierekisi. Moso le moso, maitsiboa mangwe le mangwe, ga o ne o mo tlhoka o ne o tshwanetse go mmatlela ko tshimong. Fela mosong ono o ne a apere sutu e tshetlha, ka hempe e tsheu a bo a e gatisa ka thae e ntsho. O ne a ba emetse mo kolotsaneng ya gagwe ya Toyota Corolla, a sa bontshe go fela pelo.

Morago ga kereke MmaItseng o ne a tla le tsala ya gagwe ya ko mokgatlhong. O ne a na le mosimane wa go ka lekana le Boitshepo ka dingwaga, fela a le moleelenyana.

Mo tseleng, ke ga MmaItseng a itsise baeng ba mo go Boitshepo.

“Ke ngwana wa ngwanake yo. Wa ga Itseng. Boitshepo, ke MmaItumeleng le Itumeleng. Dumedisa.”

“Hello,” Boitshepo a araba.

“Hallo mma,” ga araba MmaItumeleng a bua a tshega. “Hei, bana ba makgoa.”

MmaItseng ene ke ga a sa kgatlhega. “Boitshepo, go a twe: Dumelang bo mma!”

“Sorry,” Boitshepo a araba.

MmaItumeleng a ba a swa ka ditshego gape. “Waai mo tlogele tlhe. A kere ba goletse mo ditoropong.”

RaItseng ene jaaka gale, a itidimaletse, a lebeletse fela gore koloi e seka ya wela mo dikhuting tse di tletseng mo tseleng, gongwe go thula matlapa a neng a ka senyetsa motho koloi.

Itumeleng, yo o neng a ntse mo setulong se se kwa morago, mmagwe le Boitshepo ba mo tsentse fo gare, le ene a ikhwanya ka ditshego. O ne a didimala ka bonako ga a bone Boitshepo a mo dilola.

“Ee ba goletse mo ditoropong, fela ga ba le mo gae ba tshwanetse ba ithute,” ga bua MmaItseng. “Seo se tla diragala fela fa a tsaya matsapa, a leka. Maleka ga se makgona, makgona ke maboeletsa. Ga go jalo Itumeleng?”

“Ee mma,” Itumeleng a araba a lebeletse Boitshepo, yo o neng a mo ikgatholositse, a lebeletse kwa ntle ka letlhabaphefo.

Boitshepo a nagana gore ke sengwe sa dilo tse dingwe tse di dirang gore a batle gore nako e tsamaele ka pele gore a kgone go boela gabone ko Centurion. O ne a ikutlwa gore ga tsamaisane le lefelo le. Sa ntlha, MmaItseng o bua Setswana se se thata. Ga a mo araba, o batla gore le ene a dirise Setswana. Fela Setswana se a se itseng, ke se a se ithutileng go tswa go mmaagwe. Le teng mmaagwe o se bua a se tlhakanya le sekgoa. Sa bobedi, kereke ya fa e tsaya sebaka, diura di le tharo. Le gale gone e ne e le monate. Ke gore fela ene kereke e a e tlwaetseng, e tsaya fela ura. Ka jalo o ne a sa solofela gore o tlile go tlhola tsatsi lotlhe fa. O tla tshwanelwa ke go itshoka, go santse go setse Sontaga di le tharo.

O nagana jaana a lebile ko ntle ka letlhabaphefo, a ikgatholositse mosimanyana yo a bapileng le ene. Dithole di ne di kuile fo koloing e fetileng teng, di gasa batsamaya ka dinao. MmaItseng le MmaItumeleng bone ke ga ba setse ba le mo dipolotiking tsa bone tsa mokgatlho.

“O shapo?” a utlwa Itumeleng a bua.

Boitshepo a mo gadima gangwe fela a ba a boa a lebella ko ntle gape.

“Eish, bana ba makgoa! Ne ke re are you okay?” Itumeleng a bua  ka lentse le le tletseng ditshego.

“I heard you first time, ga ke setlaela,” Boitshepo a mo kgakgautha.

“Jaanong ntlha ga o arabe? Ke tla itse jang gore o nkutlwile?”

Boitshepo a bala go fitlhela ka lesome mo pelong, fela gore maikutlo a gagwe a wele. A lebella Itumeleng gape, mme a fitlhela a mo tlhomile matlho, a na le monyebo o ka gangwe fela o ne wa mo lebatsa gore kana o ne a batla go mo raya a reng. A bona gore se se botoka ke gore a itebelele ko ntle gape.

“Go siame ga o sa batle go bua le nna Boitshepo,” Itumeleng a bua, a tsholeditse lentse. O ne a dira ka bomo gore mmaagwe le MmaItseng ba mo utlwe.

“Tshepi, molato ke’ng o sa batle go bua le Itumeleng? O tla dira ditsala jang ga o bifela batho jaana?” MmaItseng a botsa.

Ka sebaka seo RaItseng ke ga a baya koloi ka fa tlase ga setllhare sa modutu, go e tshabisa mogote wa selemo. Ka letlhogonolo ba ne ba setse ba fitlhile mo gae, ka jalo ga boloka Boitshepo go araba gore goreng a sa bua le Itumeleng. O ne a setse a feditse le mogopolo wa gagwe gore Itumeleng wa tena, le gore a kampane a nna a sena ditsala gona le gore a tsalane le ene. O ne a tena jaaka monang o o fitlhelang o boka mo tsebeng ya motho bosigo.

Gone go lebega o kare monang o, a ka se kgone go o koba ka gore MmaItseng ke ga a setse a mmitsa gore a tle go mo thusa ba tsholele baeng dijo tsa motshegare. A tshwanela gape ke go nna go bapa le monang o fa ba ja, a reeditse fa monang o ntse o mmotsa dipotso. Ga ba kabo ba ne ba le babedi fela, nkabo a mo ikgatholosa. Jaanong MmaItseng o ne a mmeile leitlho, le MmaItumeleng, go ne go sena ka mokgwa o mongwe.

“O tlile leng?” ga botsa Itumeleng.

“Last Sunday,” Boitshepo a araba, a sa tlose matlho mo dijong tsa gagwe.

“O boa leng,” Itumeleng a botsa, ka nako eo a kodumetsa galase ya Coke.

Boitshepo ke ga a nagana, a ipona a nanabelela monang a ba a o pinyelela a o bolaya pele o ka kgona go siya.

“O tlile go nna kgwedi yotlhe,” MmaItseng a araba ga a bona Boitshepo a tsupile molomo.

“A dikolo tsa lona di tswetse?” Itumeleng a botsa gape, a ntse a itatswa menwana.

“No!” Ka gore a ka se kgone go bolaya monang o, Boitshepo a bona gore a arabe ka bokhutshwane, gongwe o tla lemoga gore ga a batle go bua le ene.

“Jaanong ga o tle go salla ko morago ko sekolong? Eish o kare nka nna mo gae kgwedi yotlhe,” ke Itumeleng, a tshega.

Le ga a ne a mo tena jaaka monang, Boitshepo a iphitlhela a nyeba fa a utlwa ka mokgwa o Itumeleng a tshegang ka teng. A lemoga gore ke raditshwegana, o e reng ga a tshega, setshego sa gagwe se go gogele gore le wena o iphitlhele o tshega, le ga o sa itse gore o tshegang.

“Nnyaya Itumeleng, Boitshepo a ka se nne mo gae kgwedi yotlhe,” MmaItseng a araba, a ba a tsaya lesela la go iphumola, a iphumola molomo.

Ga a utlwa MmaItseng a rialo, Boitshepo a tlala tshepo ya gore ka gongwe dilo di fetogile, o tlile go boela Tshwane. A tshwara moa wa gagwe, a emetse gore MmaItseng a tlhalose.

“Ke buile le MmaMotse ko kerekeng gompieno, mogokgo wa ko Serankure, ka mo tlhalosetsa. A re Tshepi a ka nna a tla go tsena ko go ena ga a santse a lefa. Ke ne ke tlile go go bolella kgantele Tshepi, jaanong ka gore radipotso Itumeleng ke yo o nnetse go botsa, ke one ao.”

“Boitshepo o tla ko Serankure? Ke sekolo sa me seo. Ke tla tla go go tsaya kamoso phakela, o seka wa wara,” Itumeleng a bua ka boipelo.

“Nnyaya Tumi, ka gore ke letsatsi la gagwe la ntlha, ke tshwanetse ke tsamae le ene. Le gale o ka tla go mo tsaya go simolla ka Labobedi, akere.”

“Ee mma,” Itumeleng a araba.

Boitshepo ke ga a sa dumele se a se utlwang. Santlha mmaagwe o mo latlhela mo motseng a le nosi, sa bobedi o tshwanetse go ya ko sekolong se seshwa. Go dira dilo maswe le go feta, sekolo se Itumeleng, mothong yo a sa mmeeng sebete a yang ko go sona! A tlala pelo, matlho a gagwe a seka dikeledi. O ne a itse gore le ga a ka re wa gana, MmaItseng o ne a ka se mo reetse. Ga a mmotse le go mmotsa gore a o batla go ya ko sekolong seo. Ga a fetsa o mmolella mo gare ga batho, gona le gore a mmolelle ba le babedi le go utlwa gore o ikutlwa jang. MmaItseng ke mosadi yo o setlhogo, yo o sa kgathaleleng maikutlo a batho.

“Excuse me,” a bua a emelela ka bonako, go ya ko kamoreng pele ba bona gore o tutetse pelo.

Ga a fitlha ko kamoreng a batla mogala wa gagwe, gore a leletse rraagwe go llela mo go ene. A fitlhela beterii e fedile. Ga a re o e tlhomela mo polakeng go e tsosolosa, motlakase ga o yo – ga e sale o tsamaile mo mosong pele ba ya kerekeng! Mogala wa Telkom o ne o le teng mo ntlung, fela o sa bereke. MmaItseng o sale a bua gore ga e sale magodu a utswitse megala ya koporo e e dirisiwang ke megala e ngwaga o o fetileng.

A itatlhela mo go dimo ga bolao, a lemoga gore o nosi. Dikeledi tsa elela mo marameng a gagwe. Goreng batsadi ba gagwe ba ka mo tlisa fa?  Mo lefelong le e leng gore ga kgone le go ka ikgolaganya le bone nako nngwe le nngwe e a batlang? A gone ba a itse gore MmaItseng o mo kwadisitse ko sekolong ntle le go bua le ene? E seng gore ke matshaba sekolo, ke fela gore batsadi ba gagwe ba mo tlwaeditse go bua le ene pele ba tsaya tshwetso ka sengwe le sengwe se se mo amang. Ga a tlwaela go bolellwa fela, ko ntle ga go bodiwa gore o ikutlwa jang.

Ga a nagana sentle, batsadi ba gagwe ga ba a ka ba mmotsa gore o ikutlwa jang ka go tla go nna le MmaItseng. A lemoga gore ke sone se se dirang gore a fitlhela go le bothata go tlhaloganya. Ke lantlha ba mo dira jalo, ebile o solofela gore ke la bofelo.

“Tshepi, tla o re tshelle custard, le tle le tlhatswe dijana le Itumeleng,” a utlwa MmaItseng a mmitsa. A itse gore o tshwanetse go beela kutlobotlhoko ya gagwe ko thoko, a dire jaaka a bolellwa. Beke tse tharo fela, a ikgothatsa.

Ba fetsa go tlhatswa dijana, ka nako yotlhe a reeditse Itumeleng a mmolella ka ditsala tsa gagwe tsa ko Serankure le barutabana. Boitshepo a dira o ka re o reeditse mme tota tlhaloganyo ya gagwe e se foo.

Moragonyana MmaItumeleng a leboga MmaItseng le Raitseng, le go laela.

“Re lebogetse dijo Tshepi, a kere,” MmaItumeleng a bua a mo phophotha mo legetleng.

“Ee,” Boitshepo a araba.

“Ee mma!” MmaItseng a mo tlatsa, a gatella lefoko “mma”.

“Ee mma,” Boitshepo a ipoeletsa, a digile matlho a sa lebelle Itumeleng. Le ga a ne a sa mo lebella, fela a itse gore sefatlhego sa gagwe se a bo se tletse ditshego.

“Ke tla go bona kamoso Tshepi!” a utlwa Itumeleng a mo laela.

E tlile go nna dibeke tse tharo tse di leele mo botshelong jwa gagwe!

-Bokhutlo ba 1-

Redemption Reader Review – 12

Sanna Amier wrote Yoh this is a must read NOvEL pure joy 2read 1st n second books i finished them in 3days thats how hooked this book got me,eazy to read u will find it very interesting begining 2 end…..enjoy! #TheSetUpNovel #Redemption

On the queue

Laura waited her turn on the queue, slowly getting irritated.

This queue is so slow. Damn I hate banks. I wish I could do everything online. Now I am going to be wasting precious time waiting. Waiting to change my damn Internet password. That old lady has been at the counter for so long. What the hell does she want? And anyway, how come they only have one person working the inquiries counter at this time? Ehm, I guess there is nothing I can do except wait. It does not help that this lady behind me thinks I’m her therapist. I wish she could shut up. Maybe I should take out my phone and pretend to be busy. What a chatterbox!

“You see dear, I really don’t know what to do with him anymore,” the chatterbox behind her continued. Laura was not sure who she was talking about anymore. And she did not care. She just wanted to be over and done with this, so that she could be able to go back to work.

“What do you think I should do, I mean if you were in my position,” continued the chatterbox.

“Oh, that’s a tough one. I wouldn’t know what to do,” Laura answered back. She thought it was a generic enough answer, whatever the lady was talking about, it would be applicable.

“You see. Now my son thinks…” the chatterbox continued but Laura switched off. She looked over at the other queue, which at least looked like it was moving. A tall, dark and good looking gentleman caught her eye. Oh, look at that. He looks so handsome. I wonder if he is married or in a committed relationship, she was thinking to herself. The gentleman turned, and her eyes locked with Laura’s. Laura was about to divert her eyes in embarrassment. She had been caught drooling.

“Oh God,” she said out loud. The chatterbox assumed Laura was responding to her story.

“Exactly, I also thought oh God not again,” she said and continued talking.

Laura was not listening to her. She was busy flirting with her new discovery on the other queue. The gentleman smiled at her. She smiled back and looked down, blushing.

Oh God, this is so embarrassing. He caught me staring! Oh well, whatever. With the way he looks I am sure he is used to women throwing themselves at him all the time, she consoled herself.

She tried to turn her attention to the chatterbox, who was still going on and on about her alcoholic husband, or was it an alcoholic son? It did not matter to Laura.

The queue moved a few more inches. The old lady who was being helped at the counter had finished. About time! thought Laura. Hopefully that young man will not take the whole morning! In the meantime, I will keep myself busy with the Mr Eye Candy over there.

Laura’s focus shifted to the other queue again. But this time, it was Mr Eye Candy who was caught in the act. He had been checking Laura out. He did not try to look away, but rather, his mouth formed a slight smile as his eyes met Laura’s. His queue had moved, but he was still rooted in the same spot, gazing at Laura. The matronly-looking woman behind him poked him in the ribs to move forward. He in turn gave Laura a huge smile, raising his eye-brow and his shoulder as if to say “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” As he did Laura couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m glad you find this funny, but I don’t,” said the chatterbox. She was still under the impression that she had Laura’s attention.

Laura couldn’t help wondering, what is his name? Where does he work? Married? Children? Maybe he is single, and is looking for a serious relationship. He wouldn’t be flirting with me if he was happily married would he? I wonder how his voice sounds.

She started analysing his clothes. One of her friends had once told her that “If you want to know if a man has style, check his shoes and his belt my friend. You will never go wrong!” So Laura checked the shoes and the belt, mhh, not bad, she thought to herself. She could not tell if they were expensive or not, but they definitely did not look cheap.

“Now tell me, do you think I am being unfair doing that?” asked the chatterbox. Laura has no idea where the chatter box was at with her story, but she felt the appropriate thing would be to agree with her, so she said “I totally agree with you”. The chatterbox was pleased.

“Thank you! So how come nobody sees that? I mean they all…,” she went on, but Laura’s attention was gone.

The queue moved a little bit more. Two more people had already been helped, and Laura did not even notice. Hmm, staring is rude, but in this case it is definitely helping. Watching that hot guy sure makes the queue move faster.

Her eyes went back to the object of her affection. He reminds me of Taye Diggs. Yeah, he really does. Look at those biceps. And that shirt, I am sure underneath it is a well toned, well defined six pack. How come I have never gone out with a man who has a six pack?

“Wow,” she said out loud as Mr Eye Candy looked at her and flashed her smile.

“I’m telling you, I am not lying. His whole salary gone, on booze.” The chatterbox thought Laura’s “wow” was her disbelief at her irresponsible son.

Laura mind shifted to her past relationships. She did not consider herself a perfectionist, but like everybody else, she had her peeves. She absolutely hated people who had no respect for time. Like Steve. God that relationship was a drag. I spent most of the time practically waiting for him. He would be like, babe, I’ll be there in five minutes, and an hour later I would still be waiting for him. Actually, it was a miracle that relationship lasted as long as it did. I wonder if Mr Eye Candy over there treats time like a precious commodity that it is.

The straw that broke the camel’s back in her and Steve’s relationship, was when Laura had invited him to go with her to her cousin’s wedding. He knew how important it was to Laura that they should be there and seated for the start of the wedding ceremony. Laura had even asked him to sleep over so that he did not have to drive over from his place in the morning. He had refused, and as he left, he had kissed her on the cheek and assured her that he will be there first thing in the morning. The following morning, Laura was ready to go and there was no Steve. Laura spent exactly thirty minutes, asking herself if she was prepared to share her life with someone who would be late for the most important moments in her life. It did not take her long to know that it was not what she wanted. She immediately left and made it just in time for the wedding ceremony.

“Are you even listening to me?” said the chatterbox, poking Laura on the side.

“Oh I’m sorry; I was just thinking that I have wasted the whole morning standing on a queue!” She sounded apologetic but she really was in no mood to listen to the family saga about people she did not even know.

“I was saying…,” continued the chatterbox, as Laura’s mind drifted away again.

She checked over at Mr Eye Candy, trying to avoid being noticed. It did not work as their eyes met, as if on cue, and they both looked away, pretending they were not checking each other out again. Laura could feel a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, something she had not felt in a while. The last time she felt like that was when she was first introduced to John by one of her friends. John was an environmentalist. He believed in recycling and conservation and all that stuff that the greenies believed in. Charmed by what she thought was John’s caring nature, she had fell for him. She was touched when he talked passionately about “thinking of the future generation and make sure we leave something for them”.

Only Laura did not know that his conservation ideas extended to bath time. She found out by chance when they spent their first weekend together. John had arrived on Friday smelling all clean and fresh.

Saturday morning, Laura announced that she was going to take a shower, hoping John would join her. John just pulled her into his arms and said that showering could wait. Laura thought he was being romantic. But when the morning extended to afternoon, Laura, the neat freak she was, began feeling uncomfortable. Her skin began to itch as she imagined germs and all crawling on her skin. She jumped into the shower immediately after they had their lunch, without a word to John.

They had stayed in-doors the whole day, and when evening came and John still hadn’t showered, Laura assumed he would do so before bedtime. Bedtime came and, as John got ready for bed, Laura could not keep quite any longer. “Aren’t you going to shower?” she asked.

“Reuse, REDUCE, recycle, remember?” John said, stressing “reduce”.

“What?” Laura was shocked.

“Now dear, you really don’t need to shower every day, you know. In fact research done by…” John continued to quote some obscure research about why bathing every day was not good for the skin. To Laura, cleanliness was next to godliness, so that was the end of John.

“Go on honey, move,” said the chatterbox, as the queue shifted again. Laura had not noticed that the chatterbox had stopped talking about her family issues. Her attention had been shifting between her past love life and Mr Eye Candy. She checked the Eye Candy and saw that his queue seemed to have slowed down. Good, more time for me to ogle, she thought.

“He is quite good looking isn’t he?” began the chatter box. She had noticed that Laura’s eyes had been repeatedly focusing in his direction.

“Yes I guess so,” said Laura. She felt annoyed that she could now not indulge herself because the chatter box was watching her. She decided not to stare anymore and her attention went back to her love life.

Her friends always laughed at Laura about this one, but she did not care. She couldn’t stand people “who did not speak properly,” as she liked to put it. Her friends said she was a snob since she went to a private school. “My friend if you are going to be that picky, you will stay single for the rest of your life. You are not getting any younger, you know?”

But she stood her ground. At that time, she had just told them she was breaking up with Ray. The reason? “I can’t stand the way he talks. It’s ‘Lend me a pen’, not ‘borrow me a pen’” she said.

“You are kidding right? How can you want to end a relationship because the guy does not know the difference between borrow and lend,” they laughed. But Laura was not amused.

“That’s not the only thing. He says things like ‘come wif me’. WIF!”

They all laughed. “Come on Laura. There is no master of pronunciation, right?”

“Wrong! Master or no master, it’s thirty, not fatty!” she emphasized.

“Fatty, really! Now you are exaggerating!” They had laughed some more about it.

“Did you tell him that it bothers you?” they had asked.

“Where do I start? I can’t just say hey honey, please say ‘with’ and not ‘wif’, it annoys me. I can’t do that,” she said. Nevertheless she had ended the relationship.

She was still lost in her thoughts when the chatterbox nudged her forward. “Come on now, what’s wrong? Move. You are the one who said you don’t have the whole morning.”

As she moved forward she quickly looked over at Mr Eye Candy. He was smiling at her, silently laughing at her, that she had also been caught napping on the queue. They shared a tender moment, just with their eyes, and their smiles.

Oh he has beautiful eyes. And beautiful lips. He is probably a good kisser. Oh damn, he is at the front. He will probably finish before me and then he will be gone. I will never see him again. This sucks. Let me take one last good look, she thought.

“Oh my!” she said.

“I’m telling you, you don’t want to be caught in that situation.” It was the chatter box. She had ventured on to another family saga, and was sure Laura was responding to her.

“Next,” said the teller, and Mr Eye Candy was at the teller’s counter. Laura sighed, and closed her eyes. She wanted to make sure the image of him had been burned in her memory. That she will be able to recall it later and reminisce. The eyes, the smile, the biceps, the six pack, Okay I have not seen the six pack, but I can only imagine, she smiled.

“Hi,” said a voice next to her. She opened her eyes. Her knees went weak. It was him. She tried to answer back. Her throat was dry, so she cleared it twice, and then said “Hi”. Her voice hoarse, she found herself lost in those gorgeous brown eyes. She could smell his cologne, and had to look up as he was taller than her.

He is perfect, everything that I have been looking for all my life, Laura thought.

“Look, I need to rush off somewhere, but I was wondering if you would like to, you know, have coffee sometime,” he said. Laura thought his voice was like music, some heavenly music.

“Coffee? Oh yes of course.” Laura said, her eyes locked by his, like a buck in the car’s headlight.

“I will phone you then?” He said, taking out his cell phone to take Laura’s numbers.

“Yes, that would be great”, said Laura. She was thinking he looks even better close up. And he is asking me out.

He cleared his throat, breaking Laura’s train of thought. “You are going to give me your number right?” he smiled, giving Laura the phone to enter her numbers.

Laura thought she was going to melt from the sheer heat emanating from him. She took his phone and began entering her phone numbers.

“You are quite somfing!” he said, as Laura was about to punch “Save” to save the numbers.

She paused. “Pardon?”

“Fanks for the numbers. And it’s Kennef by the way” he said looking at Laura and giving her the killer smile again.

“Laura,” and without missing a beat, Laura’s fingers started moving as she cleared the last four numbers, and replaced them with random ones.

“Will look forward to your call then,” she said giving him back the phone and smiling sweetly at him. Inside she was screaming Nooooo!

“What a good looking young man! I wish I was younger and …,” the chatterbox started. Laura was not listening. She kept thinking Why!

“Next,” said the lady at the counter, and it was Laura’s turn.

*Inspired by Poppy’s FB status!

Redemption Reader Review-11

Tidimalo Manyaapelo wrote O setswerere mosetsana ke wena wa Mohurutshe. Just like the first one, I couldn’t put this book down. You are an amazing writer Sega, keep doing girl. And as I read the end, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was an indication that the girl is on mission trilogy (:. It wouldn’t hurt hey. Don’t we all want to know what happens between Brandy and Leon with his fragile ego and…and…and…

#TheSetUpNovel #Redemption

Redemption Reader Review-10

Submitted on 2013/09/14 at 8:54 pm

This is a sequel to “The Setup” and I was one of those who thought that there shouldn’t be a sequel. In “The Setup”, Macy hires a hit-man to take out Jim because she was too weak emotionally to confront him about his dalliance with Brandy. In a horrible case of mistaken identity, her son, Jamie, is murdered. How do you recover from this? What is more to be done or not, after this horrific realisation? Whatever happens Macy’s life is changed irrevocably.

How does a mother recover from the death of a child? How do you continue living with yourself, let alone other people, with the reality of having your child killed? Can’t really explain this away.

I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to edit “Redemption” before it went to print. I must point out that I began reading it with a “she can’t possibly survive this” frame of mind.

She survives. She forgives herself and she lives. Macy joins a support group and makes friends. She ditches the “Martha Stewart” demeanour and takes control of her life. She confides in her mother and Maria, her mother, makes a plan. Jim, her husband, suspects that something is off but he’s too self-absorbed to investigate his hunch further. He continues trawling the dating sites to escape his life at home. Meanwhile Macy’s friends set him up with one of them and Macy gets her grounds for divorce. Her mother persuades her father to take the fall for Macy’s despicable act. After all, he’s serving a life sentence. One more will not take anything away from him.

I loved Sega’s character development. Unlike the first one, this sequel had more feeling and depth. The timeline is chronological and the use of language and grammar show’s Sega’s growth as an author. The book is easy to read and…

As all fiction go, this is totally unbelievable. Go Sega, go!!

NB: IT IS SELF PUBLISHED.

Redemption Reader Review -9

Poppy Mere wrote The Set Up Redemption” is a bomb!! What a talent!! Sega, I have no words to explain how much I got touched!!! Very realistic, in the SA context!! Keep it up, Sega! We are proud of you…! #TheSetUpNovel #Redemption