Unibo is an acronym of University of Bophuthatswana, and everyone who grew up in Mafikeng knows is it that, not Uniwest. We’re known for the calibre of lawyers we produce… Followed closely by the lecturers who bang students.
Case in point: I heard about a lecturer who got caught by the student’s roommate. I don’t know how stupid you have to be to go to the girls dorm, bang a student and then attempt to sleep over. This idiot got caught because he refused to leave after the first round and then the roommate told everyone in the res that he was there. The students came to the said room and then the roommate unlocked the room while he was busy with another round. He left with his pants around his ankles with the male students dragging him off.
When there’s an event in town, back when Maftown was known as a party town, celebrities would help themselves to our hot girls from Unibo. You would most certainly hear about a celebrity being spotted at the res’s parking lot, picking up that girl you had had your eye on for the whole year. And then when the girl is being driven off by said celebrity you would hear the guys who were standing there say, “baby, o sa mo fa neh! Keep those legs closed tonight, ke dijo tsa rona tseo, that’s our food that you’re giving away!”
It seems like “hate”, as all celebrities who face criticism always claim, but it’s deeper than that as often manifested itself in the abuse we hurl at them in an attempt to hurt them and make ourselves feel better about our inequities.
Have you ever noticed how the guys who have made their money through tenders are regarded as crooks, cheats and lucky to have known sebanebane? We look at the and see how after building a road, with no engineering qualification, they drive around in Range Rover Sports and BMW cars? We look at them and think: “But i’ve studied! I’ve worked hard! I’ve sacrificed! Where’s my reward? Where’s that promise of financial freedom?” Seeing these young boys run around and spend money at parties, falling all over the place flat-out drunk? The same young man who never worked hard in his life now suddenly has the freedom you continue to work for? And he seems to take for granted so much, what, with all the booze and girls?
And then comes in this random celebrity who just wants a good time with some young girl, enter her most holiest place, go back to Jozi and tell his friends a story about… “this crazy nympho who gave me a blowjob backstage, son!”
Celebrities are unfortunate in terms of we think we own a piece of them because we see them on TV or hear them on radio. Unfortunately they bear the brunt of so much of our self hate, our anger and low self esteem. We project all the negative energy we have onto them, attempt to tear them down and shame them publicly in an attempt escape our own worlds. We feel vindicated doing it to them because, well, shiiit, they’re celebrities and they have money, and all my friends know that I hate Donald’s gay-singing ass!
If you remember back to chapter 1, we met Stapura and his buddy OB. They’re tender dudes. Stapura is from a village called Setlagole, about a 100 km’s from Maftown. OB is from the local villages, and I never cared to know where. Stapura went to ISSA, International School of South Africa. Our own local private school. You must have some cash to go there, hey! It’s the most elite school around, and the fact that it’s local also means that we know the kids who attended that school, called them cheese boys or ma-rice. They’re also treated like mini-celebrities. And, as Stapura has, on more than one occasion, shown us, it doesn’t buy you class! #Farmish!
Stapura went to ISSA for about two years, failed, and then onto Mmabatho High to finish off his Matric. His father owns a pig farm, a shop (where he worked over school holidays) and the only petrol station in Setlagole.
They say that in a village, the only fat kids are the shop keeper’s kids and the ANC councillor’s kids. If you’ve ever bought anything from a village you’ll know that there’s no such thing as customer service. You will never be greeted with a ‘Good Morning, Sir!’. You buy here or voetsek to the nearest town to buy that snuif and Minestrone Soup! The kids who’ve worked at these shops now transfer that “be grateful I’m helping you, you peasant” pompous attitude to the towns and cities where many folk don’t give two fucks who you’re Daddy is! This is why they get into conflicts with niggas like me. Give me attitude and I’ll promptly describe your mother’s and daddy’s privates! Ke kleva ya Maftown nna.
There was a time I used to be in a clique with Stapura. We would roll 20 deep! I’m not sure why, but there would be all of us chilling at Star Shop, 20 deep, drinking quarts, smoking blunts and chasing girls! This was all random with no prior planning whatsoever, but it happened so often that it seemed like someone called a meeting and shit.
Within that clique was Special Star, Greg and Stunt101. We also had another buddy, Thomas Gaekgwathe, who just came through to live in Maftown. He hung out with us because of another member of the clique who stayed in Unit 6, another well-off suburban kid. Our ages ranged from 21 to 29 in that clique. The clique eventually broke off, with members forming separate cliques until it was completely broken up. Yes, niggas also have ditshele, and this is eventually what lead to the break off. So I ended up only chilling with Thomas and the rest of my usual crew, Special Star, Stunt101 and Greg.
Thomas drove a 3 series G String he claimed was his, depending what day of the week you asked him. He only had money because his parents left a good enough lump some for him when they passed away. But not that much that he would buy a 3 series. After a while I gathered that it was his uncle’s.
At one of our usual gatherings at Star Shop, some of the guys from the old crew met unexpectedly one Friday night. It was the Telkom Knockouts, before the municipality e re senyetsa monate. We hung out and got up to the usual bullshit. Later on, a Motswako rapper from Maftown rolled through with OB and Stapura and some other rapper from Jozi. Well, both are quasi-celebrities, really, pseudo-celebrities, more like, kings of the D-list, actually. For fear of getting sued I’ll call him Tshepo. So, Tshepo and his hangers-on (OB and Stapura included) came and joined our little circle. Of course we all act cool because, really, we grew up with this nigga, and we don’t want to be seen as if we’re sucking his dick climbing all over ourselves to say hi, but the girls at the Star Shop had no such problems and started screaming and shouting his name. A crowd gathered around us, asking for pictures and shit.
When the crowd got a bit too rau-rau we left for OB’s place and had an impromptu braai. The place, of course, started swarming with girls and other people like it was some sort of street bash. My crew, seeing all the stock that was there, was now on a mission, walking around with our dicks in our hands, we started an introdicktion with these 3 girls. And we noticed something, since Thomas was the one driving us around that night, when this girl would introdick us to her friends she would point and go “This is Greg, this is Star, this is Stunt…” and then when it came to Thomas the hand motion would change and she would make a fast steering wheel motion and then point and say “and this is Thomas!”. This, apparently is to signal which guy has the nice car, thus this is who you should bang.
So Thomas, after noticing this little hint, lays down the mack game on thick on one of the girls. He shelas the girl, ngwana a mo kenya, a re lamza, and then the river of Jordan flows downstairs. He reads her her rights, leads her to the house to give her some satisfaction and lay pipe! He asks OB where he thinks he can go and read this girl’s obituary because he’s gonna kill her kitty kat! OB points across the hall, and that’s where homie and this girl go. But he first decides to take a piss. BIG MISTAKE! Everyone knows that if a chick is ready you don’t waste time o phapha and decide to go here and there first. Thomas and the girl are waiting outside the toilet when Tshepo comes out. Thomas steps in but leaves the door open. He then hears Tshepo macking on the girl outside the toilet. “Tshepo nigga, you better find your own stock my chomi, this isn’t a train station.” “Fsek wena sani, can’t you see I’m busy here?”. Thomas says “ao baby, and now what’s wrong?” The girl doesn’t want to hear anything about Thomas anymore. Seeing that hes just been hit with a stena, tells Tshepo where to get off. Tshepo retorts with some “Ha o latlhile ra go shapa bari!” and then shoves Thomas into the toilet bowl. With pee going all over the place, legs and arms flailing everywhere, Thomas falls into the bowl he just relieved himself in. Thomas is a little guy, skinny and short, so it’s not like he can take on this guy, so he goes outside a tla go vutha majita.
He comes to us wet and smelling like pee, “Thomas dude, what the hell happened to you? Did she R Kelly you?” “Ntja, Tshepo o ntlwaela blind. He shoved me into the toilet and I fell on the floor with all that piss.” This is not something we’ll take lying down.
All 5 of us, in a straight line, go inside the house, “Where’s that bastard!” We go through the house making noise and opening all the doors, “Come out fake-ass celebrity wanna-be nigga!” we scream! OB looks at us, “Hey lona, you can’t be rummaging through my house like that! What the hell do you want?!” “Tshepo o kae? We’re gonna kick his ass!” Stapura and OB stand up and block us from running through the rest of the house. Out of one of the bedrooms comes Tshepo, sweating and out of breath, but these two idiots are now in our way. Stunt, the hot head he is, gives it to OB. It seemed like a falcon punch, as OB is put flat on his ass! Blaaah! He walks right over OB and runs to Tshepo, jumps up into a flying kick catching Tshepo on the chin! Star gives Stapura a judo kick and I get on top of OB. Fists, bloody teeth and judo kicks fly all over the house! Stunt stands Tshepo up and calls Thomas to come get his revenge. Thomas gives Tshepo a kick to the stomach and a spinning kaffir-klap! Slaaaap!
All the guys see what’s happening inside and rush inside to stop the fight. The celebrity already had a busted lip and a black eye. From then on Stapura and OB never got along with us. Every time they see us they always wanna talk shit or start a fight with us.
These celebrities run around small towns and think that they can bang any girl they want, and like Jabba said, ha go na kasi ya di kleva kaofela, and ha go na kasi ya di bari kaofela! If you’re on TV or something, don’t think we will let shit like this slide… We judo-kick you if o tla ka masepa!