Tlou! Tlou! The Elephant-Singers of Botshabelo

By Erna Buber-deVilliers

The book tells the story of the Batloung, a Batswana tribe of Southern Africa, from the early nineteenth century to ca. 1960. It provides historical insight into the Batloung's ancient customs, practices and beliefs and describes the experiences that shaped the people. It tells of wars, of disruption, of the wanderings of a homeless nation and of their first encounter with the white people who came to settle in South Africa. The book deals with how the Gospel affected the Batloung, and how their pastoral, communal way of life was changed by the rapid expansion of mining and industry and the uneasy social structures of the twentieth century. Tlou! Tlou! is the product of research, interviews and the personal experience of the author, Friedrich Dierks, who was a missionary to the Batloung for many years. He dedicated his original German book to his predecessor, Johannes Schnell, who founded the Evangelical Lutheran Free Church Mission Station of Botshabelo. The translator is a granddaughter of Missionary Schnell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erna Buber-deVilliers
• Release date: May 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466136861

Erna Buber-deVilliers

I am a retired high school art teacher, with a bit of time, at last, to pursue my many and diverse interests. I hope to get those books that are inside me out. One of them is a kind of auto-biography-with-family-history (I think). My research for that one led me to translate Tlou! Tlou! - the first of my writings published on Smashwords.

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Tlou! Tlou!

The Elephant-Singers of Botshabelo

by Friedrich Dierks

translated by Erna Buber-deVilliers

Copyright 2011 Erna Buber-deVilliers

Smashwords Edition

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The cover of the original book shows a photograph of the Lutheran mission church in 1957, when the new school was opened. In the foreground is a banner showing the tribal totem of the Batloung, an Elephant, and a reference to their traditional praise song:

NTHAPELE KE SA NNTSE; KE EMA, GA KE RAPELWE

Ask me as long as I am seated, for when once I am standing, the time for asking is past.

The book tells the story of the Batloung, a Batswana tribe of Southern Africa, from the early nineteenth century to 1960. It is the product of research, interviews and the personal experience of the author, who was a missionary to the Batloung for many years. He dedicated the book to his predecessor, Johannes Schnell, who founded the Evangelical Lutheran Free Church Mission Station of Botshabelo. The translator is a granddaughter of Missionary Schnell.

The pen and ink drawings by Erwin Wohlfeil come from the original book and are used with permission from the artist's estate.

Please consult the Glossary and notes at the end of the book for the meanings of certain words and additional information.

Chronology

1821 - Moselekatse and his followers cross the Drakensburg Mountains

1836 - The first white Afrikaner settlers arrive in the Transvaal

1857 - The first Hermannsburg missionaries are called to the Batswana peoples

1867 - Missionary Rabe starts work among the Baphiring and Batloung

1887 - Missionary Cassier founds the Bethel Mission Station

1899 - Missionary Schnell is sent to the Batloung

1899-1902 - The South African War

1903 - The Batloung buy Putfontein farm. The founding of Botshabelo Mission Station

1918 - Pastor Piet Mokone is ordained

1923 - Diamonds are discovered on Botshabelo

1933 - A church is built in Sophiatown, Johannesburg

1954 - Missionary Dierks starts rebuilding Botshabelo

The Kings of the Elephant-Singers of the House of Modisane

Make

Son of King Mabe of Tlhakong (Mabieskraal), died at Limao

Lekgowe (Rrankudu)

Son of King Make, died at Monamaladi

Thlabang

Son of King Lekhowe, died at Melatshaneng, buried at Bethel Mission Station.

His younger brothers were Mokatane (Jacobus) and Mogani (Abram), who carried out most of the duties of kingship for Thlabang’s son and successor.

Botlhole

Son of King Thlabang, died at Botshabelo

and was the first of the Batloung to be buried there.

His younger brothers were Laban and Manasse

Laban

Son of King Thlabang, and regent for Wilhelm. Died and buried at Botshabelo.

Manasse

Son of King Thlabang, and regent for Wilhelm. Died and buried at Botshabelo.

Wilhelm

Son of King Bothlole. Reigning King of the Batloung in 1960

Laban

Son of Regent Manasse. In 1960 he was the chief executive officer of the Batloung Kingdom.

Chapter 1

The Elephant arises

Underneath the spreading crown of a low thorn tree a man sits. He is wearing a loincloth and large leather sandals. On the ground in front of him lie his spear and his shield. A leather thong suspends a long, curved cow’s horn from his shoulder. This man is the convenor of the Batloung ba Modisane nation – the Elephant-Singers of the House of Modisane. At sunrise that morning he had traversed the settlement, stopping at specific spots where he sounded three short, powerful blasts on his horn. After that, he had called out that there would be a tribal meeting under the big thorn tree this morning. He is the first person settled at the meeting place. He is waiting for the men of the tribe to arrive.

There are some large stones in the shade of the tree. These are the seats reserved for the heads of families when the men gather here to resolve disputes, plan hunting expeditions and migrations, or raids and battle plans in times of war. The meeting place with its remarkably large thorn tree lies at the edge of a small stand of scrubby Bushveld trees covering the slow rise of the hill. Below it lies open, rolling grassland that runs into other, similarly bush-covered hills. The big thorn tree is not far from the village of the Elephant-Singers. A footpath all along the edge of the forest leads down the hill to the village – groups of round mud huts with thatched roofs. The huts resemble mushrooms growing in the veldt. Each group of huts has a small yard around it, fenced in by a sturdy hedge of dried thorn branches. Along each yard lie stone- or thorn-fenced kraals for the animals – cows, sheep and goats – and irregular plots of sorghum and beans.

Groups of men start arriving at the meeting-tree. They are dressed in goatskin loincloths and wear coarse sandals. Each man carries a spear and a shield in his left hand, in his right a fighting stick. It is still early morning. The sun has barely risen above the mountains to the east, its rays still gentle. Later it will stab fiercely at the land with scorching heat.

The men gather near the tree, and stand around in animated discussion. The chief has not yet arrived. There is a sense that something momentous will come about today. Now and again one voice or another rises above the general buzz of conversation. A speaker might even emphasize his words with a resounding thump of his stick. Finally the last group of men arrives from the village: the Chief and his Councillors. The voices die down. The men lay down their weapons outside the circle of shade around the tree, and each finds a place under its spreading crown. The Headman’s huge leopard-skin shield is his only mark of distinction. His powerful, gleaming body bears no decoration. His companions, the Councillors, are older than he is. Their shields are larger and more colourful than those of other members of the tribe. King Make, Chief of the Elephant-Singers of Modisane, steps underneath the thorn tree and takes his place upon the largest of the stones. His councillors follow him, and finally all the others sit down too. Rankwe, one of the Councillors, rises. He is Rrangwane: the uncle of the Headman, his father’s younger brother. Dumelang, Ba-bina-tlou! he calls loudly to the assembled crowd: Be greeted, Elephant-Singers!

From the assembly an echo sounds: "Tlou! Tlou! Elephant! Elephant!" With their cry the men of the tribe greet their totem. In their minds, the Elephant is who they are. Again the Rrangwane, Rankwe, raises his voice: "A tlou e okamele, re tsalelwe ditlouane! – May the Elephant cover, so that young elephants may be born to us! Again an echo resounds from the assembly: Tlou! Tlou! – Elephant! Elephant!" The meeting has begun.

Moruakgomo, head of the Motlhabane clan, gets up and opens the discussion. His clan ranks second to last in the nation of the Elephant-Singers of Modisane. In the assembly the traditional ranking given each clan determines the order in which each family may voice their opinion upon the matter under discussion. The lowest ranking family may speak first, then the next, and so on, until finally, when he has heard the concerns of each, the Headman will give his judgement.

Moruakgomo begins his speech: Tlou! Elephant! Men of the Elephant! At the last assembly of the tribe it was decided to enquire of the ancestors whether they would be willing to travel with us when we go out once again to find grazing for our herds. The great witchdoctor consulted them by throwing his bones. The Chief slaughtered a big, black cow for the ancestors, so that the mouth of the Witchdoctor would be opened. And now, the bones have spoken. They say: The Elephant arises and settles himself in the tall grass between the mountains! Men of the Elephant! The bones have spoken! With that, the question has been answered. Let us not delay. Let us pack up at once!

Moruakgomo has finished his speech and sits down. It is quiet, at first, in the assembly, until soft mutterings become audible. Moswang, head of the Modutlwa clan, stands. Ahe, Tlou, Ahe, banna ba ga Tlou! I greet you, Elephant, I greet you, men of the Elephant! I do not have much to say. The word has already been spoken. May the Elephant arise and trek! That will be a great joy for all. My word is this: send messengers to the youths who herd the flocks at the outposts! Let them come home with the animals. Then we will sleep one more night, and the next morning we will trek. I close with this.

Mokotedi of the o-Tshoo clan is the next speaker. "Ahe, Morena, Ahe, borra. I greet you, Lord, I greet you, Fathers! We have heard the word. But I have a complaint. I am not satisfied with the planned trek. Think about it: here we live near a river! We drink the water from the river, and our flocks also drink. It is the truth: water is life. Our ancestors said of old: you must not trust the spring that still lies ahead of you! Therefore I say: let us remain here. Here we have our houses, our fields!"

As soon as Mokotedi is seated, two men get to their feet together. Both want to express their disagreement with what Mokotedi had to say. They are Setshiro, the young head of the Maswaing clan, and Lekgere of the o-Phiri. Setshiro has to sit down again, because Lekgere is next in the ranking order and is entitled to speak before him. "Lekgotla! Assembly! he says shortly. He is too excited for a long greeting. The word spoken by Mokotedi I do not understand very well. Do we live here in plenty? Is it not true that the grass for grazing has not been enough for a long time? Did we not kill but a hare and a sick buck the last time we went on a hunt? And you, Mokotedi – I ask you: do you not have five families of your five wives who can work fields of sorghum for you, and cut grass for more houses? And just look at our herds! No, I say, those are not cows! Those are mekodue ya dikgomo! Skeletons of cows! Men of the Elephant, that is my word. I have spoken."

As Lekgere seats himself, there are mutters of agreement from all sides, and Setshiro jumps up: Headman, Men of the Elephant! Lekgere has spoken a huge word! Where are the great flocks of which we Elephant-Singers are so proud? They have died out, starved to death! Furthermore: who of us still feels gladness when we are told that tomorrow we meet for a hunt? None! Because we know there are neither more hares nor buck. But all of that is nothing. The important thing is, after all: The Badimo, the Ancestral Spirits, have spoken! The bones have made it known! Were our Fathers not people who spent their lives wandering? The Badimo of our Fathers have spoken, they wish to trek. Therefore my word is this: We are not negotiating a matter that can be decided this way or that. We have the word of the Badimo, and it is thus: The Elephant arises! I have spoken."

As soon as Rankwe hears mutters of agreement from all quarters, he gets up once again and casts a questioning glance all around, to see whether anyone else has something to say. Then he addresses the headman: Morena! The heads of the clans have spoken! Our ears have heard what the Badimo have made us to know, we await your word, Elephant!

King Make rises slowly and with dignity, and speaks his word: Men of the Elephant! It is the whole truth: The Badimo have spoken, and we must obey. We will therefore prepare ourselves, and trek!

Tlou! Tlou! Elephant! Elephant! resounds joyously from the assembly. King Make continues: There is yet one matter I must speak of to you, Elephant-Singers. There is a rumour going around that can turn to water the marrow in a man’s bones! A rumour that says that an army of warriors as great as a swarm of grasshoppers blackening the sky is moving across the land, an army that leaves not a blade of grass standing behind it. The leader of this army is Moselekatse, a lesser chieftain under the great King Shaka of the Zulu nation. Moselekatse quarrelled with his overlords, then had to flee before them. Now he roves around these lands, murdering, plundering, burning! His soldiers are great in number, and they have won countless victories. When he attacks a village he lets live only those who are strong enough to join his army. All others, he kills. You Men of the Elephant know, that I, Make, son of Mabe, am no coward. The leopard whose skin graces my shield is not the only one I have overcome with this, my own spear! The men interrupt him again: Tlou! Tlou! Killer of the frightful animal!

Make continues: "You, too, Elephant-Singers, are fearless warriors, but we must remember that we are but few in number. Before the army of Moselekatse we would be as a small