An Ode to the Matriarch

By Rebaone K. Motsumi

I remember the first time I saw you perform
Palpitations had my heart beating out of sync
I wanted to print all of it in ink
The eight year old in me was mesmerised
Held in awe by the true artistry categorised
By your expertise
How I loved your performance!

You held a hoe in your right hand,
A gourd in the other;
As you sang “Mmamati mpelegela ngwana.”
The kgotla sat in hushed reverence;
I knew then that one day I will emulate
The joy as I saw your gift in me mutate.

The ‘bloody fools’ you raised
Congregated today in remembrance of you;
Tears rolled unchecked
As each was cocooned in their own reminiscence.
Rejected porridge with flour bubbles flecked,
Pot lids flying,
Clods of dirt landing on retreating backs,
Full pots of half-simmered porridge chucked
The crack of a whip at the crack of dawn
For dirty pots left unwashed overnight.

Your legacy is the stuff of folklore,
May nations rise from you,
May our conversations be the gravy from your meals
The meat that you fed us in all your speeches.

Robala ngwana wa mmala wa sebilo
Robala Motlha
Robala wena wa go belegwa ka thari ya talo la phuduhudu
Robala kgarebe ya Goora-Borotho

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Rebaone K. Motsumi is a teacher of English, an author with three books published. Her fourth book is coming out in January 2026. She runs a Personal development program for children and teenagers called Reset Active.

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