YOUNG BASADZI-the shadows we chase after...
Shadows
by Rose Mokhosi
There is a legendary south African athlete, whose record on the dream mile that used to be held in the friendly port Elizabeth remains unbroken since year 1984. In an interview on the radio, when asked what stood out as a memorable moment in that race he said: ‘my shadow’ – a moving story everlasting in my mind. He said that he was at the last 100meters of the mile and the sun was slowly shifting his shadow so that with every 10meter strides that he took, his shadow would grow farther in front of him. In trying to catch up to this dark slim figure, he said that he ran so fast - his shadow spurring him on, pulling his strides even longer and faster towards the finishline - history Made!
Now my story goes back to around the same year – I must have been about 6 years old. Staying at my grandfather’s house – it was constantly abuzz with great friends, loyal family relatives, unknown strangers. My mother was always rushing about to get teabags, sugar, milk - these were exciting times for me as it meant that my cousins and I would once again play, laugh, giggle, fool around, catch up. These intense family gatherings would be held in my grandfather’s spacious lounge – only my grandfather could resolve matters because he was so wise. ‘Stoels’ that were used only in winter (if one was in front of the hot coal stove) would be brought into the room from the kitchen. The elders and uncles would sip on tea made and brought by my mother. They would arrive in the heat of the scorching sun. The talks would commence from just when the sun hid behind the landscaped horizon and only cease with everybody in solid agreement that they were indeed tired – and this would be only once the moon was high up with scattered surrounds of twinkling stars.
On that eventful day, just as the talks started - my cousins and I were summoned in the house as it was becoming too dark to play outside. We were told to sit still on the rugged floor while my mother lit the candle placed on the table in the middle of the congregation. Reluctantly we sat still - although we still had a lot to laugh about. Knowing that I was going to be called into the bathroom to wash up the day dirt in a minute, then have dinner shortly; followed by my bed left us wanting to capture all of the fun we could before parting.
As my grandfather’s voice grew more and more monotonous – and in trying to keep still, we had to find ingenious ways to entertain ourselves. The lame flame flickering sideways, my inspiration came in the form of my grandfather’s shadow on our brown lounge wall. His features distorted, I got my cousins to witness these funny tricks my grandfather’s shadow was pulling. Progressively as the mouth grew, the forehead peaked, the neck elongated – the giggles grew uncontrollably too. The fidgety cackles apparently distracted my uncle Jim from making a very crucial point because he suddenly just kept quite. At that precise moment we were discovered, and my grandfather and his shadow turned to look at us discontentedly. One of my cousins was repressing her laugh so much that one way or another it had to come out. And a sound and firm fart was let loose - and we just openly burst out in childish guffaws.
For the athlete, his shadow was the inspiration that urged him to go as far as setting a record. For me, well… it was just a really hilarious experience.
Please feel free to contact us at basadzi_inc@ananzi.co.za
by Rose Mokhosi
There is a legendary south African athlete, whose record on the dream mile that used to be held in the friendly port Elizabeth remains unbroken since year 1984. In an interview on the radio, when asked what stood out as a memorable moment in that race he said: ‘my shadow’ – a moving story everlasting in my mind. He said that he was at the last 100meters of the mile and the sun was slowly shifting his shadow so that with every 10meter strides that he took, his shadow would grow farther in front of him. In trying to catch up to this dark slim figure, he said that he ran so fast - his shadow spurring him on, pulling his strides even longer and faster towards the finishline - history Made!
Now my story goes back to around the same year – I must have been about 6 years old. Staying at my grandfather’s house – it was constantly abuzz with great friends, loyal family relatives, unknown strangers. My mother was always rushing about to get teabags, sugar, milk - these were exciting times for me as it meant that my cousins and I would once again play, laugh, giggle, fool around, catch up. These intense family gatherings would be held in my grandfather’s spacious lounge – only my grandfather could resolve matters because he was so wise. ‘Stoels’ that were used only in winter (if one was in front of the hot coal stove) would be brought into the room from the kitchen. The elders and uncles would sip on tea made and brought by my mother. They would arrive in the heat of the scorching sun. The talks would commence from just when the sun hid behind the landscaped horizon and only cease with everybody in solid agreement that they were indeed tired – and this would be only once the moon was high up with scattered surrounds of twinkling stars.
On that eventful day, just as the talks started - my cousins and I were summoned in the house as it was becoming too dark to play outside. We were told to sit still on the rugged floor while my mother lit the candle placed on the table in the middle of the congregation. Reluctantly we sat still - although we still had a lot to laugh about. Knowing that I was going to be called into the bathroom to wash up the day dirt in a minute, then have dinner shortly; followed by my bed left us wanting to capture all of the fun we could before parting.
As my grandfather’s voice grew more and more monotonous – and in trying to keep still, we had to find ingenious ways to entertain ourselves. The lame flame flickering sideways, my inspiration came in the form of my grandfather’s shadow on our brown lounge wall. His features distorted, I got my cousins to witness these funny tricks my grandfather’s shadow was pulling. Progressively as the mouth grew, the forehead peaked, the neck elongated – the giggles grew uncontrollably too. The fidgety cackles apparently distracted my uncle Jim from making a very crucial point because he suddenly just kept quite. At that precise moment we were discovered, and my grandfather and his shadow turned to look at us discontentedly. One of my cousins was repressing her laugh so much that one way or another it had to come out. And a sound and firm fart was let loose - and we just openly burst out in childish guffaws.
For the athlete, his shadow was the inspiration that urged him to go as far as setting a record. For me, well… it was just a really hilarious experience.
Please feel free to contact us at basadzi_inc@ananzi.co.za
posted by Rose Mokhosi at
3:22 PM
<< Home