“Oh nooooo! not again! this cant….wont happen…” These words echoed on my mind on the afternoon of 2nd November 2014 when I heard the news of my brother’s accident in Lake Ngami. It sounded like a nightmare, one I would soon be shaken out of by a knock or some form of interruption as it normally happens with dreams. That was not to be, there were numerous calls among siblings but nothing promising. We kept hoping against hope even when we were told that the search had been called off until the next day. On Monday afternoon we received the dreadful news that his body had been found. The pain was excruciating especially after burying our nephew exactly 13 days before. Death had struck again! Death had taken away unannounced, without warning! This piece is just to to share  how this precious gift that was Laona impacted the life of his little sister.

Laona was a giant, an imposing figure, brave and yet gentle at heart. He was named Joel, after my father’s paternal uncle who was a soldier and a courageous man. We are told the Segaetsho men killed vicious animals with their bare hands and referred to leopards as cats. They called him a gentle giant at his memorial service. He loved unreservedly, we can attest to that. I am told he promised my mother that when he started working I would be his. True to his word, he literally held me by the hand when I was admitted at the University of Botswana. I did not endure the long queues characteristic of UB applications and sponsorships at the time because he ‘cut corners’ on my behalf. During my university days he would drop unannounced to bring me cash, take me out for lunch or just spend time with me. Anytime I felt lazy to use public transport he would come running to chauffer me. He still did in my adult days. He would sneak me out of my office for very long lunch breaks where we would chat about almost everything. When he started talking it was not very easy for him to stop. Those who say ladies talk too much certainly had not met my brother and between the two of us, I was the quiet one. How i will miss those precious moments!

He treated me like a princess and any man who harboured ambitions of taking me for a wife had to compete with this brother of mine. It did not come as a surprise when my husband told me he would beat Laona at his own game one day. He had realised he faced fierce competition from my brother but as they say the rest is history. Even my friends knew that if we had plans, Laona was the only one who could alter them.  I also used him to convince my husband to change plans sometimes

The gentle giant was a brave man. He was a peace lover and always preferred laughter to arguments and conflicts. However, when pushed to the limit, he would take the matter head on. He was not afraid to speak his mind which sometimes put him on the wrong side of the ‘system’.

My brother had a great sense of humor. He could turn a very nasty situation into bouts of laughter within seconds, that is why it was so difficult to stay mad at him. Our conversations always ended with ‘ba go loile’ when he thought I was being silly. My husband and I were called masea to the amazement of my mother. For our entire life together I had to keep reminding him I was not young anymore. My friend Neo said he brought out the little sister in me and I fully agree.  I remember how I would choose to taste some pricey drink only because he was paying and he would gladly oblige and call it botsadi abuse. When I joined in making fun of him at home he would pinch me like I was a little girl. Oh how i will miss our trips home! There was never a dull moment. It was laughter all the way, making fun of each other and talking in codes. There are some words I will have to erase out of my vocabulary because they wont make sense anymore.

Laona loved unreservedly and what he loved he protected. He loved his wife so much that when he was away on trips we would receive instructions to check on her.  He loved my mother so much he always wanted to ensure it was well with her. After my mother’s near brush with death in 2008, he was careful not to hurt her emotions that he would snap at anybody who found pleasure out of sharing bad news with her. Even when he was critically ill, he would fake a smile and act normal just so my mother wouldn’t be worried.  He loved his family and could always be counted upon to act if there was a crisis of some sort. He had created a culture of us meeting on Sundays at my sister’s place in block 9 and when we failed to come he’d call us diganana.He would part with his hard earned cash if a family member came with some bogus project to improve their livelihood. I say hard earned cash because he was a hard worker. Other people thought he was lazy because he was not into the manual labour typical of men in traditional setups. The only thing he loved doing in that area was cooking seswaa and serobe  and he did that too well. Our family meals will never be the same.Still at that point of sponsoring family members and indeed his friends, I would say he was a generous soul in all sense of the word. He also loved nurturing talent that is why when he embarked on a work project dubbed Get up & go he handled it with so much passion like it was his own because it would grow local talent.

Some people abused his generosity though. A few months back he told me how some of his friends had borrowed his money never to return it and he vowed that going forward he’d develop a ‘stone heart’. I jokingly told him to instead give it me to which he responded ‘ba go loa.’

My brother was an inspiration to many people and it gave me great joy. However, he remained humble although I was duty bound to praise him for every milestone failing which I would be labelled jealous or botsarara. I had to watch the dramas he was part of, Morwalela and the Thokoloshi for example, watch Mmualebe on btv, listen to Masaasele, Gospel Melodies and Liveline programmes on RB1, just to mention a few.  In the same vein, I had to keep up with his fb status updates and give due credit and all this gave me great pleasure . I am glad I didn’t withhold my love but I also regret the stupid days we stayed mad each other over nothing.

There is a lot I can say about my brother but words fail me. He was such an extra ordinary human being, he passed through fires but he braved them and emerged victorious. He was a survivor. He encouraged me at my lowest moments because he was the one person who understood my language. He believed so much in me that sometimes I thought he lived in a fantasy world because the person he described just wasn’t me. He was a great writer and he was on the verge of unleashing that when death struck. He was a musician and everything he did was accompanied by loads of passion and enthusiasm. My brother harboured so much ambition and had so much life in him that it was difficult to accept that we would never see him again.

We will forever cherish that God honoured us with such a gift to call a son, a brother, an uncle, a husband and a father. His name Laona is a celebration of the love of  God and he was an embodiment of such love.