Lesira Rampa

I’m a snob of utter silence, it’s oxygen to my distant demeanour. I dodge crowds like I would a bullet

Setopong sa Maseru…

I’m wearing flip flops, washed-out pants & an oversized shirt with two holes in it, I’m only here to run a quick errand. I didn’t bother getting dolled up… Heck! This is home to those who mind their business…

Noise here is the order of the day. The sound of ‘Tse nyane’ crying on their mummys’ backs. _timo_! Must be the heat, its scorching!

I make my way through one lane & the air reeks of something very unpleasant- a malodorous smell of sun-bathed trash cans & something you just can’t put your finger on…

Five feet ahead floats a cloud of smoke from cheap Mary Jane.

But from time to time there’s a nostalgic smell of likahare! Reminds me of nkhono‘s cooking. Meanwhile ‘Malibuseng murmurs something uncouth at the lady pushing a wheelbarrow & taking all the time in the world.

The second time she loses it! “Bathong! Sutha re fete! ”, ‘Malibuseng yells with all wretchedness she could master…

And bo-mme ba salooning–ba nkemelletse ka hore na ke batla ho loho, EMPA this is the place I make my way into and suddenly feel kin. Wave at the boy selling fruits by the corner. He sweet talks me into buying his fruits and I effortlessly give in to the temptation & flattery nicks me of my last cents!

“Ausi u batla metsi”,”plastiki… “? Five star hotel treatment!

A lil down the same lane ke bo-mme ba moroho. Nna l prefer “moroho oa libabane” as we call it lapeng, spinach you’ll find as well- neatly packed & affordable as ever!

Kae-kae there’s a passage leading to a taxi rank, making my way to my home town – Leribe le lets’oana la ‘Mamosa le Molapo.

It’s the beauty of proximity for me, how you can source out so much you need from such a tiny place, don’t even get me started on the humanity here!!