One of the 3 sponsorships we originally received for Namibia (that trip had to be postponed) allowed us to deploy a CB in another outlying rural area in South Africa.
The area is called the Makgaben and it is a so-called “tribal area”.
Our friend Kevin had frequently visited this area 12-15 years before, amongst others with US actor Val Kilmer, but foremost with a man called Adrian Bouchier.I
Adrian Bouchier was possibly one of the first “white sangomas”. After the traditional African people and was let in on many secrets. He discovered much about ancient settlements and other human artefacts that proved a much earlier occupation by black Bantu people than conveniently assumed by the white settlers who often liked to claim that they arrived almost at the same time as the Bantu. (One of
The body of evidence
(that had to be neutralised) slowed us down so that we reached the target area only after dark, at approximately 8 pm.
Apparently familiar landmarks had changed to the extent that Kevin couldn’t recognise the spot.
We drove way past it, still scanning the perimeter of the road.
When we realised that we were lost we spoke to some white farmers on the road.
They had neither heard of an area called Makgaben, nor of a headman called Samson.
Things started getting mysterious.
We drove back, me already slightly irritated.
And then it happened:
The strip of grass to the left and right of the road was used by the local population for grazing cattle, and some smaller herds were out that evening.
One of the cows suddenly decided to cross the road and – BAMMMM! – I hit it. It was moving so fast that I cannot even remember having seen it run over the road; it must have been hidden behind another cow.
Zuuusch, the radiator blows, the lights go off, silence.
Middle of nowhere.
We step out unharmed but confused. The Pajero is a mess.
The cow lies 5m in front of us and is dead. (Luckily I don’t have to slaughter it.) Traffic whizzes by mercilessly. All the white people shoot by without stopping. Quite scary, because we haven’t managed to put up any warning signs yet, and the dark mass of the cow is still lying there.
Some friendly black people finally stop, offer help, consolation and cigarettes, which were appreciated in our state of shock.
right after impact
They help us drag the cow off the road and then amazingly I manage to start the engine and hobble the car off the road like an injured animal.
Later at the towing yard
We were towed some 150 km to Pietersburg, where we spent the night in the car in the towing service’s yard. So shocked must we have been, that we didn’t even notice that the windshield was missing.
In the morning I thought that
Makgaben 2003 someone had pinched it from the
yard while we were sleeping.
Undeterred, however, we got into a rented VW Polo and went back to complete our mission. While busting some towers in Pietersburg, recently renamed Polokwane in an attempt to erase white memory, we were greeted by a widely visible X sprayed in the sky. I couldn’t help thinking that some bad boy was displaying a strange kind of humour, trying to say something along the lines of “gotcha”.
Giant sprayed X – one cannot deny that “they”
have some sort of dry humour
Well, we’ll see who’s gonna get whom in the end.
All ideas of a great hike in the wilderness were abandoned. Let’s just find this Samson and give him the cloudbuster.
We went into the area again and in the daylight we finally found the man, but only after an extended search and at a totally different place than Kevin remembered.
In his memory the place was still indigenous Africa with traditional huts and an original African lifestyle.
Not so any more. Development
had brought wide and straight gravel roads, ugly rectangular cement-block houses and a general aesthetic deterioration. Samson’s homestead had been moved about 30 km from where it had been, away from the road and into the bush.
Finding Samson was the real shock. He is still recognised as the headman, but what had happened to him? He had almost lost his eyesight, and worse: he had lost his memory!
The only white person he could remember was a man from a big mining company who had been negotiating mining rights with them after platinum had been found in the Makgaben!
He didn’t know the name Adrian Bouchier or remember Kevin.
Totally blanked out!
The final place for the CB
We talked to some younger men who were staying close by and found a very friendly man who was keen to be the custodian of the CB for the time being.
At least we could leave the CB in the area in good hands
The body of evidence
We left feeling very strange;
Kevin probably more affected than I because a world that he had known and loved had disappeared forever.
We were of course wondering what was going on there:
The destruction of a once vital and strong man; the total memory loss of the area; and the idea of throwing cows in our way to halt our advance. (A healer friend told me I
finding the place etc ...) Then there was the looming encroachment of the mining company
Traditional Africa and each and every memory of a time different from ours is wiped out at a breathtaking speed, turning the once proud owners of the land into while to get over this.
Somebody really didn’t want us to get there, for sure!