Chapter 2: The Beginning! Moripane Village!

Chapter 2: The Beginning! Moripane Village!

The chapter, The Beginning, takes me to the very beginning of my life journey at the small rural village of Moripane, outside Jane Furse, under Makhuduthamaga Local Municipality, in the Sekhuhune District of the Limpopo Province of South Africa. This small rural village is the stage on which my childhood movie is playing. It offers me a sense of belonging and a personal identity. Our communal life defined this beginning. We were poor and yet blessed with the abundance mentality and sharing lifestyle that helped us cope with the challenges of life. The village had an abundance of love, togetherness, culture, tradition and practices.

The small rural village of Moripane gave us leaders in all the spheres of our lives. We hadreligious leaders and pastors like Ntate Paulus Rantho, Ntate Lekwana, Ntate Lentswane, and many others. It gave us school committee leaders. We had constructors and builders like my late grandfather Jimson Phaphedi Patjane, and the others. We had livestock farmers like Ntate Bashele Mphela, Ntate Mapotlakele Mphela, Ntate Manape, Ntate Sekate Tema, Ntate Katedi Kubjane, Ntate Magomarele Lekgogola, Ntate Mokone Mphela, Ntate Lepota, Ntate Lekwana Mphela, Ntate Asarease Kgoroba, Ntate Mokiri Lekgogola, Ntate Motsiedi Nkadimeng, Ntate Mokoti Malaka, Ntate Kgobise Patjane, Ntate Seage Lekgogola, etc. They are so many to mention. These were the pillars of the little rural village of Moripane who played a crucial role in feeding the village.

The Makgagasa Women Traditional Dancers of Moripane Village

I was fortunate to have been born at the time, in Sekhukhune District Limpopo Province, South Africa, when the villages were establishing community schools. This was viewed as being progressive and almost every village wanted to have their own community school. What was fascinating was that every household would contribute money towards the building of the school. The villagers proudly built Moripane Bantu Community Primary School.We now know that the word Bantu is derogatory and was serving the politics of the then apartheid government. We had no choice but to accept the school’s middle name, Bantu Community! The desires of the then Apartheid South Africa. I wish we had the power to rename the school Moripane People’s Community Primary School. That is what I believe the school to have stood for. That is what it still is today. But let the bygones be the bygones! The Moripane Primary School, in my vocabulary, is the People’s Primary School. From here on I will refrain from using the word Bantu in the name of Moripane Primary School. The school became our post office, the villagers meeting place, the conference and community affairs meetings centre, the integral part of the administrative affairs of our village. Ntate Magolego, who lived nearby became the defacto overseer of our schoolyard and its properties. He became a dependable caretaker. His entire family played along. Theirs was more service than anything else. The villagers built the Moripane Primary School with their own hands, sweat and tears. That is why, in my view, they are an example of what communal living is all about. I got my early inspiration in life from this little rural village of Moripane. It was not designed to become a great village. But the spirit of its villagers was just too big. They contributed their hard-earned funds to the good of the school, and therefore the village as a whole.

The Makgagasa Women Traditional Dancers of Moripane with the little Dancers

I remember clearly my early years as a child, on the back of my mother, the first steps of becoming a herdboy, and my first days at school. I am told that as a toddler I would crawl into the dusty streets of the small rural village of Moripane. The villagers would pick me up and bring me back to my grandparents’ homestead. My first months at school were full of drama. I got ill and was allowed to stay home until I had recovered. Being at home became so nice that I did not want to wake up early in the morning to go to school. This carried on until my then teacher, Mr Motshele Mohlala, told my schoolmates to inform me that I was going to get lashes the day I got back to school. That was enough to terrify me and I resolved never to be back at school. One morning my mother and my uncle’s wife, Mme Mabatleng Patjane, grabbed me, washed me by force, and carried me to school. To my surprise, Mr Mohlala was very welcoming. I was never punished. I was actually embarrassed to realise that I was a coward and easily intimidated by just words. Unfortunately, it was very late and had to repeat the class. I resolved to never again find myself having to struggle to return to the class for studies.

We, the pupils of Moripane Primary School participated in all its activities, programmes, and projects and made sure that it was always functioning as it was supposed to.That was expected. That was part of our holistic education, character building, self-help, and self-love. I am still feeling that deep inside me even today. We loved the school unconditionally.We fetched water from Ngwaritsi river for the school projects, ourselves. We had fun, joy and happiness in doing so. We were at all times pleasant in performing our school duties. The school leaders and teachers were building future leaders and responsible citizens in us. Weprovided for our own needs. For example, we filled up the water reservoir that was built for us by our parents week in and week out, looked after it and kept it clean at all times. It became our source of life, for we preserved and drank water from it with pride. We understood the scarcity of water. After all, we fetched it from the river ourselves. We always rejoiced when it rained as we would harvest rainwater from the roof of our school building. We took care of our environment and did the artwork, gardening, housecraft, and handwork as part of our educational programmes with pleasure. We sold our handmade products to raise funds for our school. We cleaned our schoolyard, planted flowers, washed the windows of our school, and cleaned the gutters of our school buildings. We participated in school sports, athletics, and music competitions. We did it all! Yes, we did it all! We were willing learners. All these changed my life forever. I shall always remain grateful to the small rural village of Moripane and its primary school for who I have become.

The famous Mosehla tree next to our water reservoir was a landmark in the schoolyard.It served as an overflow classroom for our school, the parking spot for our principal’s car, the visiting school inspector, vaccination teams, and a meeting venue for our school committee meetings. We, indeed, had an abundance mentality. We were materially poor but mentally and spiritually rich inside. Yes, it was very hard to undergo classes under the Mosehla tree. It was a beautiful experience in summer, but horrible in winter, disastrous and impossible on rainy days.

At Moripane Primary School we enjoyed our clean playgrounds and the overall environment. It was free of any hazards, gems and diseases because we took care of it. This was due to the leadership of our school principals who were to us our parents. They were not just great teachers but inspirational leaders. The famous principals will always remain the pride of our school’s history. The most remembered by me is Principal Ms Madime. She is to us our mother and pillar of our school from the very beginning. She was a mentor and still is regarded as such by all of us. She led the other teachers like Meneer Motshele Mohlala, Mistress Motshadi, etc. She guided the other private teachers. They are all honoured for the part they played in our education and development.

Principal Mr Solomon Masemola followed in the footsteps of Principal Madime. We nick-named him “Namane e ja Mokgarakwane” because he was full of energy and always on the go. The nickname “Namane e ja Mokgarakwane” literally means the calf is galloping. He was always active and fully present in the class. He loved his work, led us with passion, and became part of the little rural village of Moripane. He collected the post of the villagers from Jane Furse Post Office, transported our elders to the old age pension pay point, and supported and guided our school committee members with love. He was fully trusted by them. We remember some of the teachers that made his staff, the ever-smiling, Mr Washington Mahlase, the disciplinarian, Mr Mashiangwako, and many others. We thank them for what they did for this little rural village of Moripane, for us in particular. I know that there are other teachers that followed after we moved on to further our education at other further institutions of learning. This is also a dedication to them. They continued the beautiful legacy I have just shared here. This book is a dynamic project and they are welcome to add their input to it, especially to this chapter, The Beginning, as it is about the small rural village of Moripane, and they are part of it by virtue of having been teachers at Moripane Primary School.

The leadership of the school was anchored on the collaboration between the school committee, the principal and the teachers. The villagers would elect what was commonly called the School Committee that, together with the school principal, would look after the affairs of the school. The school committee knew that they were looking after the affairs of the school on behalf of its owners, the villagers. It was not theirs and there was nothing prestigious about serving on the committee. In fact, it was hard work. I learned about leadership from just observing how the school committee members conducted themselves. The chairman of the school committee would almost be at the school every week attending to issues with the school principal and preparing for the upcoming meetings.

The Makgagasa Women Traditional Dancers of Moripane in COMETSA T-Shirts

Unlike my uncles, I did not have to travel far for my primary education. Instead, the surrounding villages had to send their children to Moripane Primary School for their education. The rural upbringing and schooling provided me with diverse opportunities to grow like all other rural children. We did a lot at the school that contributed to our make up as a people. I was a herdboy-scholar, i.e. a scholar that also looked after livestock, and had no excuse but to do well at school as well. That laid the foundation for my discipline, self-management, purposefulness and hard work. As a herdboy, one learns to take care of the livestock, co-exist with nature, master farming (peasantry), and at the same time succeed at school. I grew up with a strong connection, a bond to nature, and a love for education.

I was born in the Patjanes, my grandparents’ homestead, and identified myself as a Patjane, until when my mother got married to the Tsimas and had to change my surname. I must admit that I struggled with this change although I did not discuss the matter with anybody. I dealt with it internally and alone. I had an identity crisis for a while until later when I was a teenager and had developed a bond with the Tsimas as I frequently visited my cousins, grandmother, and my mother. But the bond with the small rural village of Moripane and identification with it remained strong until today. It is however no longer at the emotional level but a rational one. However, I had also fallen in love with my mother’s new home village of Madibong. I continued interrogating the earlier years of my life. I asked myself many questions and answered myself. Young in my life I learned to process questions, made conclusions, and took the appropriate steps according to my own interpretation.

My grandfather, Ntate Jimson Phaphedi Patjane, named me after his own father, Nganganko, which is actually the same as Patjane. Hence, we opted to use Patjane as my African name. Whereas he did not explain the rationale for this naming to me, I concluded that he might have been emotional about my identity as well and wanted the connection to the Patjanes to be firmed. Even though I had become used to and proud to carry the new Tsima surname like my mother, I felt rich to also carry my mother’s maiden name, Patjane, as my African name. I think that my grandfather was a genius in recognising this potential dilemma for me. This for me is fundamental to my perspective, hence the writing of this chapter, The Beginning. It is the opportunity for me to reflect on who I am and what it meant for the subsequent steps I followed as I was developing personally and professionally.

In the small rural village of Moripane I grew up very close to my cousins. We looked after the livestock together, even alternating between going to school and the field. In the Bapedi culture, like all the other African cultures, you find yourself belonging to a clan and every child around you is your brother, sister or cousin. We shared everything equally. As mentioned I was brought up by my grandparents in the later years of their lives. Their hard work and commitment to surviving any challenges in life influenced and inspired me. I did not realise that the hardships and poverty they were subjected to shaped their resolve to work hard and better our lives. Irrespective, they brought us up with much love and care. My grandmother’s presence at home was always a great joy for me. Whenever she was not at home I would feel so insecure and long for her. She provided warmth to me.

The Ngwaritsi river along the small rural village of Moripane was our lifeline. The rivulets, Makuswaneng, Mabodibeng, Moripane, and others fill it up whenever it is raining. It flows into the Olifants River (Lepelle) at the Apel Cross. The river had a stream of gardens and small farms along its banks. We never used to buy vegetables and fruits from the market. We planted, harvested and fed the village. We would catch fish, swim, wash, and drink from the river. That is how clean the river used to be.

Then there was this gift from nature, the fresh and natural water well called Sedibaneng. It was a miracle of nature. It spewed boiling water every morning. It was as if there was a boiler underground. We used to rush there every morning to have a warm bath. At the same time, we would fetch fresh and clean water from the well.

And then there was the vegetable and fruits farmer, and pastor, Ntate Paulus Rantho. I regard him as one of the best community builders in the small village of Moripane. Farming and gardening on the river banks of Ngwaritsi river were perfected by Reverend Paulus Rantho, and many other farmers like Ntate Asareas Mampuru, Ntate Katedi Kubjane, Ntate Bashele Mphela, etc.

The livestock farmers provided the village with meat, milk, and other bi-products like fat, skin, etc. This was irrespective of whether one’s parents had livestock, garden or not. Every child in the village would be given the task of farming. We would always be invited or volunteer ourselves to participate in these activities. You were frowned at for doing nothing.

The community of Moripane village was clustered into the clans’ kraals, known as Kgoro, where the members of the clan would build their homesteads in either a circle or row next to each other. This sustained the subcultures of the clans and entrenched their protocols. The cultural identities were very strong. We had Patjane’s, Mphela’s, Kubjane’s, Mapota’s, Rantho’s, Lekgogola’s, Malaka’s, etc. The disadvantage of such kind of settlements was that if there was a feud among the members of the clan, it would be a devastating one and nobody external would be able to intervene.

In my case, as mentioned in chapter 1, I also attended Sunday School at the Evangelical Lutheran Church in the next village of Ga-Moloi wa Madihlaba. As if this was not enough I played football for my village football club, Moripane Scientists FC, originally called Moripane Lekatika Loss My Cherrie Football Club. Lekatika means trouble. Troublesome we were and are not. But in the field of football, we were, indeed, troublesome. We were the fighters and entertainers. We played the game with passion. The village football club imparted tradition and cultural practices to all of us. I will touch more on my village football journey in Chapter 7, Inspired By Village Football.

Growing up in my grandparents’ household, without a sister to share the domestic work, I learned to shoulder those typical “girlie” responsibilities. I kept my home garden and planted and watered flowers around the homestead. I am grateful to have been made to do so many duties as I was growing up. I benefited from a village where community and collective existence, the uBuntu Way, was the order of the day, and every child was the responsibility of every elderly, irrespective of blood relationships. So as a child, I was always making sure that I did not break any rules, norms or traditional practices. If you did that you would be punished, for that would be equivalent to shaming your parents and the village as a whole. The values we grew by include, respect for the elders, trustworthiness, honesty, loyalty, togetherness/collectivism, brotherly/sisterly love, servanthood, and citizenry. My overall and holistic development was influenced by the village football clubs, schooling, church, village events, and general village games.

As we grew up, we had no time to think and worry about what we did not have. It was never an issue for me that I grew up without a father. My grandfather, uncles, men of the village, football coaches, teachers, church leaders, and peers filled up this gap. It was only once I left the village to further my education outside that I became preoccupied with the gap.

I know that the situation and conditions are no longer the same due to changes that our entire country, South Africa, has undergone. But for me, the small rural village of Moripane of those years will always be central when I reflect on my life journey. Some of those practices did not have to be stopped. We could integrate them into our way of being today. Therefore they remain valuable reference points in my Self-Mentorship & Coaching Philosophy.

I would have not made it without the collective and community lifestyle the village offered me. My transition from primary to secondary school was the most prestigious one. I moved to Malekutu High School at Ga-Sekwati Mamone village, and later to Legaletlwa High School at Ga-Moloi wa Madihlaba village. I continued to Boaparankwe College, at Marble-Hall, to complete my high school education. In my last years of high school education, Boaparankwe College was relocated to Limburg at Ga-Matlala outside Polokwane. I can safely say that my basic education was very progressive and laid a solid foundation for my future professional journey. But it all started in that small rural village of Moripane.

This chapter, The Beginning, is dedicated to this village, its founding fathers and mothers, children, and all the activities that shaped my life. They are the basis of the title of the book, Self-Mentorship & Coaching Philosophy. My aim is to inspire you, the reader, not to ever think that you are on your own when there seems to be no one whispering wisdom into your ears. You have it inside you. All you need to do is to be active, observant, fully present, mindful, enthusiastic, energetic, and brave to make decisions and learn from both your successes and failures in life. That is the objective of this book.

The small rural village of Moripane derived its name from another historical river called Moripane. This river is a source of meaning to all of us who were born and bred in the area. It was a true fountain of culture, traditions and practices as it flows from Jane Furse Hospital (Mashadi Sepetlele), through Dithabaneng hillocks, into Ngwaritsi river, just below the rural village of Mogorwane.Its original name is Mahwelereng, derived from a tree called Mohwelere. There are many such trees in our area.So the original name is befitting. Mohwelere trees are sources of life. The iron of our time. The raw material. The source of the fire and the warmth. So, Mahwelereng means “The place of the Mohwelere trees”. Its earlier residents, as I am told, were refugees from other regions in the Sekhukhune. They were running away from tribal wars and conflicts. They were welcome by the Bapedi ba Mamone authorities.Mahwelereng was designated for their settlement. The small rural village of Moripane was to emerge. The rest is history. A proud history for that matter. We are the sons and daughters of these early residents. They are our proud great-grandfathers and mothers. They are our originators.The main river that was the lifeline of the village is Ngwaritsi river, which unfortunately is no longer flowing continuously due to changes in climatic conditions and the damming practice. The residents of Moripane village, then, turned the banks of Ngwaritsi river into gardens, farms and grazing fields.

The little rural village of Moripane! My origin! was rich with culture, tradition, and practice. Then every one of us, residents, would be welcome to village activities. No formal invitations. It was truly a communal life we lived. In the Sepedi language, there is a saying that goes “Mona le thipa o a itshegela!” It is an idiomatic expression that means that everybody is welcome. When you find the villagers working or slaughtering you do not have to wait to be invited to take part. As long as you have a tool of trade with you, you must get down and work as well. When we shared the rewards and benefits you would also be rewarded for your effort. Greed had no space in our vocabulary.

The small rural village of Moripane had rich green grazing fields around it. The arrival of the agents of the Apartheid government destabilised these grazing fields. They split the grazing fields into pieces and designated the most fertile section as the farmer’s camp (Ga-Molemi). That section was then put out of reach by the livestock farmers of Moripane, the rightful owners of the land. We shall never forget the hurt this caused us. The grazing fields of Leokeng, the famous Lekgwarapaneng, Sehlare Se Sa Tsibjego, Letheleding, Makushwaneng, and Ngwanamatlang, were no longer belonging to us. The famous Mabosolo mountain areas no longer belonged to us. We thank God that change came to South Africa and all these demarcations are no longer there. But the history remains and we continue sharing it with the young generation.

Some of the places of importance that contributed to our development and growth early in our lives include Sebayeng (a central meeting point at the centre of the village, where the young adults meet and socialise), Letheleding (a youth playing place where we will use leaves as a sledge and sail down from the high point to the bottom), Ngwanamatlang (a miraculous big flat stone surface that was just a joy to be relaxing on it mid-day as herdboys), Sehlaresesatsibjego (a tree halfway to Jane Furse. Its name means the unknown tree. Nobody knows where it originates from and what is its name), Leokeng (the popular and fertile grazing field where we were also spoiled for choice of different birds we would hunt), Mahlomola Railway Bus Station (the famous bus station where we would meet out homecoming brothers from the South during major holidays and carry their pieces of luggage for a fee. This was a treat for us), Leporogong (the bridge at Ngwaritsi river we would just enjoy playing in the water under it, facinated by the vehicles driving above us), Molapo wa Pula (the mountain range where we would flock to and fetch wild fruits), and some known and reputable farmers at whose farms and places we would play hide and seek games, and parents would fetch milk for the families (e.g. Ga-Ramatee, Ga-Phophoro, Ga-Mosoma, Ga-Masemola, and Ga-Ledwaba). There was a shop in the entire area called Ga-Makweng, a shopkeeper from Ga-Moloi wa Madihlaba, who extended generous credit to our families to provide food for the children. These iconic places played a huge role in our upbringing and the sustainability of our small village of Moripane and the surrounding villages. We took these entrepreneurs for granted then. Today, in hindsight, I feel that our villages were blessed to have these entrepreneurs then. They took the trouble of stocking to provide for our needs. We never expressed appreciation for what they were doing for our region. I feel privileged to mention and appreciate them for the role they played in our lives then.

The Dithabaneng hillocks and its famous Mabosolo mountain areas, and Swikeng la Ngwana Moloi, our natural tower, provided a vista that never escape our minds. We identify with Swikeng la Ngwana Moloi for it saved our livestock. We shall never forget the role it played in our lives as herdboys and livestock farmers. It was so dependable and trusted by us, the herdboys. But the famous Dithabaneng hillocks are no longer the same. They used to feed us with a variety of wild fruits, fields, and wood. It was the home of beautiful flora and fauna, our hunting place. It provided shelter to us the herdboys, hunters, livestock farmers, and fetchers of wood. We hunted and fetched wood responsibly. We learned to allow reproduction to be ahead of hunting and fetching wood. We understood the interdependence between nature and us. We called Dithabaneng Merakeng, that is, Home Away From Home. It supplied traditional healers with indigenous healing plants. Some of our livestock farmers kept their livestock permanently at Dithabaneng, and only sent milk and meat home.

We grew up observing and learning from our cultural activities in the small rural village of Moripane. Before the young adults would go to the mountain school they would be put through an induction and orientation process called Mothibong. They would be assigned to work in the projects designated by the royal house for a certain number of days or even months. The objective is to subject the young adults to a ritual of waking up early in the morning, working on projects, and learning to take instructions from the mentors, called Baditi. This process will be followed by the first cohort in the mountain school called Koma Ya Bodika. In the subsequent year, the graduates of Koma Ya Bodika would go for the last part called Koma Ya Bogwera. The graduates of Koma Ya Bogwera are called Dialogane or Dialoga. They have a mandate to join the others and participate in the village affairs as legitimate men of the village.

In our culture, the royal house, the king and/or the queen are the custodians of the land for the villagers. They look after the interests of their subjects, i.e. their people. The people are also expected to make offers to the royal house and participate in the projects meant to sustain the royal house. One such annual project is called Moota or Mooteng, whereby the villagers participate in the pre-planting, planting, weeding off, and harvesting activities at the fields of the royal house. It is believed that if the royal house has harvested well the entire village will never starve, and run out of seeds for the next planting season. In principle, Moota or Mooteng is by the people for the people, and the royal house is the caretaker of the people’s harvests for life continuity. Should the villagers run out of seeds, they are entitled to approach the royal house and ask for the seeds so that they can plant as well. Something that was introduced in the later years of civilisation is the vaccination of the livestock of the villagers. The villagers would be invited to bring their livestock to what is called Palong, which literally means the counting of livestock. Of course, people were always sceptical of this practice when it used to be done by the apartheid government administrators. But since it is now under the new South African government it is welcome. Going to Palong used to be a big event for the herdboys and livestock farmers.

My perspective has to a certain extent been shaped by the experience of our cultural events and activities, especially the traditional dances and how they are performed. Certain categories of our people dance to particular kinds of music. For example, there are special dances for Mathumasha (young girls), Dikgarebe (ladies that are almost ready to be proposed to), Basadi (women participants, dancing to Makgagasa or Mekgolokwane), Bashemane (young boys), Mashoboro (young adults about to go to mountain school), and Banna (the men participants, dancing to Kiba or Kati). We tell our stories and explain who we are by residing on who we are (Direto).

In our communal way of living, the roles of the various members of the community are well understood and are fulfilled without any struggle. Whenever any household is organising and holding events, the neighbours (Banna ba Kgoro, or Basadi ba Kgoro) converge together and assist. This is a given and will always happen. This is a practice that defines who we are in living our communal life. You are always guaranteed of the men- or women’s power. Even the young adults (Bashemane ba Kgoro) would participate and assemble to enjoy what remains of the catering for the event.

In the later years of my life in the small rural village of Moripane I have witnessed developments that did not augur very well for the villages. We have lost the opportunity to educate our brothers and sisters on the recruitment practices of the farms from Groblersdal, Bethal, Brits and Delmas. The farmers would come to our villages during the planting and harvesting seasons and recruit our sisters away from schools to go and work at these farms. Similarly, most of the coal mines, especially from the Eskom power stations in the Witbank (eMalahleni) areas would come to our villages and recruit our brothers away from schools to go and work in the mines. We were made to believe that this was progressive. We have later discovered that this was not to the benefit of our own villages. We lost valuable time in educating our sisters because they had to go and work in the farms and mines. In hindsight, I would like to believe that these moves were selfish and abusive. I am glad that I did not fall for the enticement.

As a young herdboy, I always enjoyed the various seasons growing up in the small rural village of Moripane. We experienced participation in the pre-planting readiness activities like tilling the ground after the first rains of the year. After the first rains had fallen we would start with the planting activities. This would be followed by the removal of weeds to enable our crops to grow big. There is the most liked period which is a pre-harvest time wherein we enjoy fresh crops from the field. This period is followed by harvest time. In the field, the women would build what we call a Lapa in the field called Sebowa. It is used to assemble the harvested crops there and separate the chaff from the crops. There are those women who are so talented in building Sebowa that it remains intact for many days after the harvest. We would play in these Sebowa and that made our post-harvest times most exciting times for us, the herdboys. It is also the time when the herdboys are under lesser scrutiny by the livestock farmers and parents. They find time to connect freely with each other. I must say, this is one of the times during which I was at my best and felt liberated. We would be allowed to roam around in the village because there would be no risk of the livestock eating the crops.

Traditionally the small rural village of Moripane falls under the Bapedi Ba Mamone Tribal Authority of Kgoshi Sekwati Mampuru. It is part of the Greater Jane Furse (Mashadi Sepetlele), The City in the Making, part of Makhuduthamaga Local Municipality, in the Sekhukhune District of Limpopo Province. This history is now part of the bigger district. We are proud of our contribution to the story of the Bapedi of Sekhukhune District. For that we are pleased. The future is great. Its legacy is entrenched. We are depositing your beautiful history into that of Jane Furse. You are part of the Makhuduthamaga Local Municipality. You are part of the Sekhukhune District Municipality. You are part of the Limpopo Province. You are part of Mzansi, South Africa.

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!!

You are part of the continent of Africa! You are here to stay! You are part of the World! You are part of the Universe! You are part of us! We are part of you!

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!

You gave birth to me! You gave birth to so many of us! Many of your children have left this world! Our grand-fathers! Grand-mothers! Fathers! Mothers! Brothers! Sisters! Uncles! Aunts! Cousins! Nephews! Nieces! etc. They are never forgotten! Their great memories live inside us! Their spirits are with us! The lessons they taught us are preserved! They remain more relevant than ever before! They are treasured! They are valued! They are appreciated! We are their offspring! We are their inhabitants! We are the carriers of their dreams! The carriers of their inspirations!

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!

We will take you to greatness! Some of your children relocated to other places! They have physically moved on! They have not forgotten about you! They will never forget about you! They have not disowned you! They can never disown you! They are spiritually connected with you! They are emotionally connected with you! They are our bridge between you and their new homes!

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!

I am the link between the Patjanes and the Tsimas! You are the reason! I am the bridge between you and Madibong village! You are the reason! Inside me live the two of you side by side! And you are the reason! You are the birthplace of my mother! You are her origin! I am her product! She is Mme Lebea Modipadi Sekgalemetsi Tsima! A Robale ka Khutso Modipadi a Modifa le Mologadi! Yena Lebee la Matlapsadi Letsega Mollo! Dikgolo Tsa Tla Ka Go Ora!  Lebee La Ngwana Seroka Sa Mokwala!

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!

Lebee is the daughter of Ntate Jimson Phaphedi Modifa Patjane! Modifa a Phaahla! She is the daughter of Mme Kgolane Mabale Patjane! Mologadi a Ngwana Seroka! Their identity is intertwined with yours! She is therefore your daughter!

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!

Modifa a Phaahla! Mologadi a Ngwana Seroka! They are my heroes! My pillars of strength! My role models! My influencers! There is no you without them! There is no them without you! They are not complete without you! You are not complete without them!

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!

You have taught me life! You have laid the foundation for many achievements in my life! You gave me wisdom! You gave me foresight! You gave me light! You gave me knowledge! You gave me courage! You gave me bravery! You gave me determination! You gave me a vision! You gave me identity! I applaud you! I honour you!

The small rural village of Moripane! My Origin! My Beginning!

This chapter, The Beginning, is not only based on the small rural village of Moripane. It continues with me to the village of my mother’s in-laws, Madibong village, which also happened to be part of Greater Jane Furse, under the Makhuduthamaga Local Municipality, in the Sekhukhune District. But I decided to have chapter 5 titled, Mother and Son Transition, dedicated to my transition to Madibong village with my mother. You will read more about my experiences from this transition, the new home, and how all of these impacted my personal and professional life journey as part of this book, Self-Mentorship & Coaching Philosophy! The Perspective!

The Reader’s Key Takeaway(s) and Reflections from the Chapter: As you leave your comments, we would like you to be guided by the following points.

  • Confirmations: What has been confirmed for you after having read this chapter, from a self-mentorship and coaching perspective?
  • Aha (Light Bulb) Moments: At what point(s) did you experience aha moments in the chapter, i.e. light bulb moments. That is the point(s) at which a penny dropped and you felt enlightened.
  • New Insights: What are the new insights that you have gained from reading this chapter?
  • New Knowledge: Reflect on the new knowledge (private or professional) you gained from this chapter.
  • Take Home: What are you taking home from this chapter? What would you like to share that other people in your circle of stakeholders?
  • New Practices: What are the new practices in your private and professional life you are going to apply as a result of reading this chapter?
  • New Behaviours: What are the new behaviours in your private and professional life that you are going to adopt as a result of reading this chapter?
  • New Practices: What are the new practices in your private and professional life you are going to apply as a result of reading this chapter?
  • New Behaviours: What are the new behaviours in your private and professional life you are going to adopt as a result of reading this chapter?

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