Lesilo Arise!

By Johannes du Preez

A Latin proverb: “Out of Africa there is always something new.”

This is exactly what “Lesilo Arise!” comprises. The detective, Tshepo, soon realises that in this terrifying case of theft and murder he is up against far worse than a common criminal.

Sinister and diabolical African forces are at work. Will he survive the onslaught of pure evil with his western orientated training and approach? Sometimes he wonders whether even the superior British detectives of Scotland Yard would have succeeded.
This is an extraordinary and typically African story which will grip and fascinate the reader who will experience the milieu and customs peculiar only to Africa.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Johannes du Preez
• Release date: Aug 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301423538

Johannes du Preez

Hans du Preez, the author of Like Ducks On The Water, was born in the Free State province of South Africa on 11 November 1939. He matriculated in the town of Kestell, also in the Freestate, and graduated with a B.Admin degree.He spent the greater part of his working life with the South African broadcasting Corporation (SABC) in Johannesburg. Fluent in the South Sotho language, he was employed by the South Sotho Radio Service. His first work as a writer was a radio serial for this service. This serial proved to be extremely popular and successful. With the advent of television services for black people, he was appointed as Manager of Television Drama. Whilst in this role he was permitted to write his own drama series, which was broadcast in the Tswana language. This series was also hugely popular. Hans was honoured with a Golden Plumes Award for his drama series by the SABC in 2006.

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About the author

Johannes du Preez, the author of Lesilo Arise! was born in the Free State Province of South Africa on 11 November 1939. His ancestors were French. He graduated with a B. Admin. degree. He spent the greater part of his life working for the South African Broadcasting Corporation in Johannesburg. As he is fully conversant in the South Sotho language, he was employed in the South Sotho Radio Service. His first work as a writer was a radio serial for this radio service. This serial proved to be extremely popular and successful. He was also allowed to write a television drama series that was broadcast in the Tswana language. This series was also hugely popular. On the thirtieth aniversary of the advent of television to South Africa, Johannes du Preez was honoured with a Golden Plumes Award for this drama series by the SABC in 2006.

Description

A Latin proverb: Out of Africa there is always something new.

This is exactly what Lesilo Arise! comprises. The detective, Tshepo, soon realises that in this terrifying case of theft and murder he is up against far worse than a common criminal.

Sinister and diabolical African forces are at work. Will he survive the onslaught of pure evil with his western orientated training and approach? Sometimes he wonders whether even the superior British detectives of Scotland Yard would have succeeded.

This is an extraordinary and typically African story which will grip and fascinate the reader who will experience the milieu and customs peculiar only to Africa.

LESILO ARISE!

Chapter 1

This was Africa.

It was a summer day in the year of 1983.

Children were playing boisterously in the dusty road of a rural village which comprised mainly Tswana inhabitants. At the inception of the town, there had never been a tendency towards the establishment of any town planning. Even the main road had not yet been tarred and traffic was never at peak. The girls were jumping over a skipping rope and the boys were kicking an old and decrepit soccer ball around. At some houses, there were fruit trees glistening in full bloom in the summer sun.

The schools had closed for the December holidays.

The adolescent boys, who were kicking the soccer ball around, ceased doing so because someone approaching them caught their attention. They silently watched him. Their playful manner became, for the moment, a serious attitude. The man was unmistakable because he had only One-Eye and they remembered him very well even although four years had passed since they last saw him. Some of the older boys recognized his stature and his manner of walking. Over the missing eyeball, he wore an eye shield made of cured buckskin, which was held in place around his head with a leather thong. His apt name, Raitlhwana, meant One-Eye. That was how he was known throughout the whole town and they also knew that he could be a difficult man.

That’s Uncle Raitlhwana approaching us, boys, one of them said in a smothered whisper.

He was in jail, whispered another because he did not want One-Eye to hear what he was saying.

One-Eye walked briskly and rapidly approached the boys.

The boys were silent now.

One-Eye was approximately forty years old. He was slender of build, of medium height and with the clothes he was wearing looked reasonably neat- a yellow T-shirt, khaki trousers and a pair of well-kept shoes with a pair of bright red socks. He had an elegant, vivacious manner of walking. Furthermore, he had a flavescent (yellowish) complexion with a snappy, thin moustache and a finely chiseled face. His short hair was neatly brushed and he was clean-shaven; definitely not an untidy man. He had thin lips and his set of pure white teeth glistened. Judging by his appearance and superior air, he should actually have been an aristocrat.

Although not an educated man, the inhabitants of his hometown were well aware of his sharp intelligence. His children had employment in Johannesburg and lived in Soweto. They were doing well and one of them drove a shining new car. His wife, Nkele, was extremely proud of her children. She had encouraged them in their education, even although there had been a shortage of money.

One-Eye was gesticulating with his arms whilst talking to himself as he neared the children.

He now lifted his head and saw that he was not far from the boys in the street. He stopped and glared intently in their direction. He decided to stop talking aloud to himself because the boys might believe that he had lost his reasoning whilst in jail. He removed his pipe from one trouser pocket and his matches from the other and pretended to light the pipe although he was aware that there was no tobacco in the pipe bowl. He then lifted the heel of his foot and tapped the pipe against it to remove the ash. Putting his pipe and matches back in his trouser pockets, he carried on walking.

His path carried him straight towards the boys and they made a hasty retreat out of his way. Open-mouthed, they stared at him as he strode past. They were so alarmed at the mere presence of One-Eye that not one of them thought of greeting him. Five metres further, he stopped dead in his tracks and suddenly turned around. Yes, they were still observing him as if he was something the cat had dragged in.

What are you staring at? Raitlhwana asked indignantly. Is this the first time you have seen a person? he angrily spat out of quivering lips. When he decided he had waited long enough for a reaction, he said harshly: I am talking to you!!

None of the boys had a reply. One of the boys licked his lips; another rubbed his hand over his scalp and the third dropped his head because he was too scared to look into the angry eye.

Something evilly mysterious was emanating from One-Eye. Out of the corner of his eye One-Eye glimpsed a stone on the shoulder of the road about two metres away. With an agile jump, he reached the stone, and, in a flash picked it up and aimed it at the boys. The boys, not knowing whether the unpredictable Uncle One-Eye really would thhrow the terrible stone at them, quickly beat a hasty retreat. A stone from behind against your skull or between your shouder blades should not hurt you very much if you had already picked up speed!

As On-Eye stared after them for a moment, he slowly threw the stone to one side. He dusted his hands while still watching the boys. I will hammer the daylights out of you he shouted after them, before continuing on his way, all the time mumbling something about the bad people who lived in the town. Their children have no manners at all.

The boys had, by now, stopped running and turned round to look at One-Eye. They waited until One-Eye was far away enough before slowly returning to retrieve their soccer ball, which they had abandoned. The discussion concerning One-Eye continued as they carried on walking. The danger was now past and they were in a happier frame of mind. One-Eye brought excitement to their town.

What terrifying implications One-Eye’s presence would bring to the small sleepy town, was beyond comprehension.

Raitlhwana was on his way to Rampe and Setlhabi,co-owners of the modern butchery in the town. These were the two individuals who had incurred One-Eye’s wrath. Rampe’s wife, Morwesi, was also employed in the butchery. She was a beautiful, lissome woman with strong characteristic features and a well-groomed Afro hairstyle. Whilst busy with administrative duties in her office, she never wore her normal butcher’s apron, and thus was presently clad in a neat cream-coloured slacksuit. To compliment her attire, her jewellery consisted of a red beaded necklace with matching earrings.

Setlhabi was behind the counter. He was a burly man with a thick neck, two harsh eyes and a pair of hands with fingers the size of bananas. Rampe, his stout partner, was busy slicing meat on the band saw. His hair had been combed out and formed a wild halo around his head. His eyes, two large white orbs, contrasted sharply with his round black face.

Morwesi had her own office where she was kept busy with the butchery’s administration and the few telephonic orders that required delivery. The moment her office duties were complete, she donned her butchery apron and kept herself busy with mincing of the meat and the preparation of the sausages. She was an energetic woman who never had an idle moment.

Rampe had completed the sawing of the meat and he switched the band saw off. The silence in the butchery was tangible. One-Eye appeared in the doorway and, without greeting, glared at the two butchers. Their chins dropped and they stared speechlessly at One-Eye. One-Eye stepped slowly and resolutely forward, the heels of his shoes sounding loudly on the hard floor. He moved right up to the counter, near to the two men. He paid Morwesi, standing well to the side, no attention at this time.

Yes. I am out of jail, said One-Eye loudly and ponderously. . . . Spent four years there, he said reproachfully, holding up four fingers. Then, with the same four fingers, he stroked his thin moustache.

For Morwesi, One-Eye’s presence indicated a feeling of unrest.She felt the danger brewing. One-Eye was well known to all of them but why were Rampe and Setlhabi reacting so strangely. The fact that One-Eye was out of jail did not seem to enamour the two men in the least. And why was One-Eye so antagonistic? Rampe and Setlhabi were visibly alarmed. One-Eye’s presence intimidated them. One-Eye still ignored Morwesi and she remembered that he had always been jovial and courteous towards beautiful women.

Arms akimbo, One-Eye stood with his feet apart. He appeared completely fearless as, with compressed lips, he stared straight at the eyes of the two men in front of him. So, don’t you even greet a man? he asked in a arrogant tone. Even if you have not seen me for four long years?

Rampe could not endure the tension any longer. One-Eye had unnerved him completely.

G – Good day Raitlhwana, he stammered and, with his hand, rubbed nervously over his wild bush of hair. He moved from one leg to the other. Morwesi could see that her husband was deeply agitated.

Good day, greeted Setlhabi bluntly and audaciously in his deep voice. He was not going to show One-Eye that he was nervous.

Good day Morwesi greeted One-Eye with a smile, because he carried no grudge against her. She was a beautiful woman, he thought as his eyes roved over her.

Morwesi’s face brightened, Good day, Raitlhwana she replied in a friendly tone, hoping that the tension had now been appeased.

But that was not to be. One-Eye nonchalantly removed his pipe from his trouser pocket and lit it. He had managed to beg a plug of tobacco along the way. His cheeks hollowed as he took a long, deep draw on his pipe. When the tobacco had taken well, he insolently blew a ball of smoke over the counter, right into Setlhabi’s face. Setlhabi irratably shook his head and, with his big hand, waved through the air in front of him to dissipate the pipe smoke. He would not just stand and do nothing at all; but he remained silent.

One-Eye abruptly came to the point: You two owe me money, he said and paused to take another draw on his pipe. Seven Hundred Rand, he said emphatically. I want my money now! he demanded boldly and determinedly.

Morwesi was confused. What money, Raitlhwana?

One-Eye swung round to face her. They bought young oxen cheaply from me. And they knew that it was stolen livestock. Then, the Police caught me for other livestock I had stolen before these two could pay me, continued One-Eye. I never mentioned at that time that they had purchased stolen livestock from me. I did not want to get them in to trouble…. And now this is what they are doing to me.

Morwesi remained silent

Is that right, Morwesi? asked One-Eye, humbly playing on her emotions. For four long years Nkele lived from hand to mouth. Indicating with his pipe towards the two men, Could they not have given her the money, Morwesi?

Morwesi looked reproachfully at the two butchers.

You two men now listen very nicely to what I am going to say to you, said One-Eye, pursing his lips firmly together. Either the spirits of my ancestors will take care of you …. or I must inform the police of your part in the affair and they can lay a charge against you, he warned. The law states that, if you purchased goods which you knew were stolen, then you are as guilty as the individual that stole them. Pointing his finger towards his own chest, One-Eye said, As I was jailed for four years, then why cannot you two serve time? A spiteful smile played around his lips, as if the decision whether they would go to jail or not, rested entirely on him.

One-Eye turned and walked to the door where he once again turned back to the butchers. He calmly put his pipe in his mouth, lit it, drew in a few breaths, and blew the smoke in the air.

You will still get to know Raitlhwana Maoto, he threatened and walked determinedly out of the building.

Morwesi went and closed the butchery door: I am not at all satisfied with the manner in which you handled Raitlhwana. He has not finished with you. And what did he mean when he said: ‘The spirits of my ancestors will prevail?’ It sounded as though he was passing the death sentence over both of you.

Chapter 2

Mothusi was the owner of the only general dealership in the town. He was well to do and well known for his benevolence towards the townspeople. That was why his name meant The Helper. He had a shiny baldhead by nature and a goatee. In special cases, he granted credit to the inhabitants of the town, which debt he noted in his black ledger. Clients were required to pay their debts at some time or another and, in this respect, Mothusi was very strict. Inhabitants from the surrounding areas also supported him. He was clever and well educated, with a good education. There was a transistor radio on a shelf in his store and he was dedicated to listening to the news bulletins.

An old model Datsun 1200 cc light delivery van and an old Toyota-Stout van with a dilapidated wheelchair tied to the roof rack, were parked in front of his shop. A horse was tethered to the verandah pillar and a bicycle was propped against the verandah railing. It was a covered verandah and, during the heat of summer, served as the favourite visiting place of the inhabitants. It was already hot and people were gathered on the verandah. They sparingly sipped the cold drinks they had bought from Mothusi; people who never saw each other every day, met each other outside the store. A few men were playing cards on the cement floor, while traditional music emanated from Radio Setswana.

One-Eye approached the store. After his experience with the two butchers, he felt hatred towards everyone in the town. He had been in jail and now everyone probably regarded him as a down and out good-for-nothing. Even the children stared at him, not bothering to greet him. He had, previously, decided not to greet any one in the store … except Mothusi, because he needed tobacco and he would have to buy it on account.

‘Hello, look who is coming", said one of the men happily.

Good morning, Raitlhwana, said another courteously.

He was astonished when One-Eye ignored him. Are you angry with us? enquired the man, with good intentions. One-Eye’s attitude troubled him. Surely it was bad manners not to bother to return a greeting. Especially when you had not seen the person for many years. What was the matter with One-Eye?

One-Eye angrily swung his arm in the direction of the man and sullenly muttered, Just leave me alone. With long steps, he pushed past them into the store. Whatever they would think of him after this … well, he, One-Eye, would definitely not lose any sleep over their opinion of him.

Everyone on the verandah stared crestfallen after On-Eye. Definitely, jail time had left its mark on him and that not for the better.

There were a few customers in the store. Mothusi and his assistant, Mmaphefo, were serving the customers over the counter. Mmaphefo was still young and slightly plump. There was a friendly smile on her pretty, round face and her lips and well-manicured nails were painted a rosy red and several rings adorned her fingers. She was the girl friend of Setlhabi, the butcher. One-Eye’s presence immediately drew everyone’s attention. It had been years since they had last seen him.

Good day Raitlhwana, someone called, but One-Eye ignored him completely and strode straight to the counter, right in front of Mothusi.

With a slightly forced smile on his face, he said, Good day, Mothusi.

Good day, Raitlhwana. It has been a long time. . .

Coming to the point immediately, One-Eye said, Mothusi, please give me a packet of Boxer tobacco, and pointed to the tobacco on the shelf behind the counter. And two boxes of matches.

Mothusi turned around, collected the tobacco and matches and placed it on the counter in front of him. When One-Eye reached over to take the tobacco, Mothusi placed his hand over the items, preventing One-Eye from taking them. One-Eye’s hand, with open palm, hung suspended in the air for a moment. The two men glared at one another; like two rams ready to do battle.

One-Eye immediately understood the implication of Mothusi’ action. Mothusi, my friend, I do not have any money today, said One-Eye contritely. I … I will pay you later

With a sharp glance at One-Eye, Mothusi picked the tobacco and matches up from the counter and replaced the items back on the shelf behind him. Then he felt under the counter, removed his black ledger, and turned to One-Eye and said, Listen, Raitlhwana, before you went to jail you owed me thirty Rand, or have you forgotten? Opening the book, Mothusi pointed with the finger of his other hand on the page. Here it has been entered, and books do not forget.

Brazenly, One-Eye again extended his hand. Mothusi, give me the tobacco. I will soon have money, … a lot of money … I’m telling you, he explained.

With a frown on his broad forehead, Mothusi shook his head determinedly and said, No, Raitlhwana, first bring the money. The debt of thirty Rand has been outstanding for many years.

One-Eye lost his temper immediately. Angrily brandishing his arm in Mothusi’s direction, he said, Keep your tobacco! and turned around.

That’s right, Raitlhwana, I will keep my tobacco, said Mothusi firmly. He had not expected that One-Eye would re-act so violently. Perhaps he should have allowed One-Eye to have the tobacco. After all, he, Mothusi, was well known as The Helper.

As One-Eye turned to leave the store, one of the men in the store uttered a stifled giggle. One-Eye heard this and turned round to face the man. Then he grabbed a new pickaxe handle leaning against the counter and lunged toward the man. Why are you laughing at me? he ground out between clenched teeth. "I’ll bash your head in!’

Petrified, the man lifted his arms above his head in a defensive manner, in case One-Eye really intended attacking him. With a pickaxe handle held the way One-Eye was holding it, nobody would survive the blow.

Mmaphefo, Mothusi’s assistant got the fright of her life. When One-Eye lifted the pick axle on high, she instinctively covered her head protectively with her hands, clenched her teeth and waited for the worst to happen. She really thought that he intended killing the man.

One-Eye replaced the new pickax handle against the counter and the man who had purchased it, put it to one side, away from One-Eye. One-Eye continued on to the store exit, where he again turned to have his last say: You, Mothusi, beware! The spirits of my ancestors will prevail, spittle bubling obscenely. Remember what I just told you. He thereupon turned around and strode angrily through the door.

Mothusi stared after him and just shook his head. To send a retort after One-Eye, would just be throwing fat onto the fire … And there was too much trouble already.

Gee, that Raitlhwana has become a dangerous man, said the man who had been the focus of One-Eye’s anger.

You can say that again, said Mmaphefo, rolling her eyes nervously. I am very scared of him.

A well-kept vehicle drew up outside the store. Detective Tshepo, smartly clad, with a hat on, stepped from the vehicle. He had only been stationed in the town for two years and therefore did not know One-Eye. The men on the verandah greeted Tshepo politely. They liked him very much. He was known as a true keeper of the peace and an avid enemy of criminals.

One-Eye stopped in his tracks. It had been a detective who had cornered him for the stock theft, for which he had been sentenced and sent to jail. He turned around and walked right up to Tshepo. So, you are a detective?

Astonished at this unexpected onslaught, Tshepo stared at him, but answered in the affirmative.

Well, I do not like detectives, said One-Eye, blatantly.

The onlookers on the verandah stared dismayed at One-Eye. His forthrightness surpassed the bounds of courtesy. They were shocked that he had the audaciousness to address an officer of the law in such a manner.

And who may you be, Sir? enquired Tshepo irritably, eyeing One-Eye up and down. I do not even know you, he said indignantly.

Raitlhwana … Raitlhwana Maoto is who I am, One-Eye introduced himself, lifting his head proudly. You too, will get to know me much better. Indicating towards the interior of the store with his hand, he said, Just as Mothusi there behind his counter will get to know me better.

Detective Tshepo was non-plussed. He was not used to the Tswana towns people acting in such a boorish manner. He stared unwaveringly and fearlessly at One-Eye, turned his back on him and strode purposefully into the store.

Chapter 3

One-Eye and his wife, Nkele, lived in a simple little stone house, which was located among the tin shanties in the town. Like her whitewashed house, Nkele was immaculate and her plain clothes always clean. She was a beautiful, light complexioned woman with a finely chiseled face and observant eyes. Her hair was neatly plaited to form an intricate pattern close to her scalp.

The sun was setting in the west when Nkele opened the skew garden gate, with its rusted, squeaky hinges, belonging to her neighbour, Granny Mmapelo. Granny Mmapelo was an older woman whom Nkele had, for many years, befriended, and who had aided and supported her, Nkele, over the years. Because Granny Mmapelo was plagued by hip problems, she had a shambling gait and walked with difficulty. Her apron covered her day clothes and her feet were clad in shabby slippers. Her gray hair was covered with a neat, brightly coloured, headscarf. Two lively, friendly eyes brightened the old wrinkled face and her name reflected her warm personality.

Good day, Nkele, she greeted while carefully watching her steps. At her age, to take a careless step, meant falling and breaking bones. Have you come to visit me? she asked happily.

Yes, Granny Mmapelo, I have news for you, and she affectionately took Granny’s arm.

Well, well, come on in my child said the hospitable old lady and placed her arm around Nkele’s waist. I’ll pour us a nice cup of tea. It is not really nice to drink tea alone.

Thank you, Granny, a cup of tea will be most welcome.

It’s wonderful that younger people still make time to visit us oldies, said Granny, her hands busy at the same time checking that her headscarf was correctly in place.

Granny has meant so much to me in the past, said Nkele with feeling. What would I have done without Granny?

Granny lightly pushed Nkele by the shoulders, indicating that she must sit down on one of her antique ball-and-claw chairs, which she had inherited from her mother.

Tell me, Nkele, how is the knitting going?

Well, Granny, I am getting a lot of work.

And, Nkele, do tell me what news you have for me? asked Granny inquisitively.

My Raitlhwana is out of jail, Granny, said Nkele, halfheartedly.

The news seemed to come as a shock to Granny Mmapelo. Her eyebrows rose and the eyes grew rounder because, in her opinion, that was not good news at all! She remembered One-Eye as a neat individual whose appearance always created a good impression. Without actually being able to fathom why, Granny Mmaphelo had always been afraid of One-Eye. She believed that the neat appearance hid a heart of stone …. She just could never have said it outright to Nkele.

In a very surprised tone of voice, she asked, What are you telling me?

Nkele hit her thigh with the palm of her hand and said, And he has no rest for his soul, Granny.

Frowning, Granny asked, What would be bothering him, my child?

Heaven alone knows, Granny, said Nkele and shrugged her shoulders. "He has