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33 A Journey to Botswana Paidashe Yolanda Tekede One morning I was busy cleaning the house when my mum surprised me when she told me that my father, who was working in Botswana, wanted to see us. My mum’s news came as a shock because he had never asked us to visit him there before. I went to bathe so fast as I so looked forward to seeing my father, and to see another country. After I had bathed and got dressed I packed some clothes into my little bag. My mother, my brother and I then went to catch the bus. We got on the bus, the engine started and we were off, driving and driving on the way to Botswana, but first to Bulawayo. Through the window I saw so many different trees, watched the baboons sitting by the side of the road and the men selling oranges and sweets and other things. I looked up at the sky and then turned my face to my mother. She smiled at me. I smiled too and then turned to look at my brother, but he was fast asleep. The bus stopped in the city of Bulawayo and the driver asked if anyone wanted to go to the toilet. Of course we took the chance to go and then my mother and I bought some fruit and pizza. I shook my brother awake him so he could also go to the toilet. After thirty minutes the driver started up the engine, so we got back into our seats on the bus and started to eat. I took the pizza and my mother started to laugh because she knew I was greedy like a pig. Now with a full stomach, I looked out of the window and saw it was like a mirror. I saw my face in the window and asked my mother, ‘Am I beautiful?’ ‘Of course you look beautiful’ she said. I smiled and turned back to the window and watched the different types of tree and all the different animals. It was a long, long way to travel. After a while my eyes grew tired and I dozed off. We travelled and travelled on the road, all the way to the border post at Plumtree. The bus stopped and we took out our passports to show to the immigration officials. Then we travelled for another few kilometres across into Botswana, where we had to show our passports again. 34 My mother and my young brother were happy because the journey was safe, even if it was a long way. ‘Is it further than to travel from Bulawayo to Harare,’ I asked my mother and she answered that of course it is. After the border, we travelled again for what seemed hours until we finally reached Francistown in Botswana. I had dropped off to sleep and my mother shook me awake and showed me the town. I smiled at my mother and asked if we would stop here. My mother whispered no and I sighed. ‘Your father lives in Maun, which is much further.’ I sighed again and I looked out of the window and saw people walking by so I waved at them. We got off the bus to buy some more food and then got back on to the bus to continue the journey. In the evening people on the bus started to sing songs praising the Lord, while others chatted amongst themselves. It was getting cold so we put on our jerseys. I wriggled in my seat as I could not be patient any longer and I complained to my mother. I said it was too far to travel but my mother and brother both laughed at me. After seven hours she shook me from sleep and, smiling, told me the journey was over and we had finally arrived. I sat up and saw the town of Maun. It is in a very beautiful area. My father was waiting for us and I got out of the bus and I ran to him. My brother and I gave him a big hug and my mother looked happy. My father took our things to his car and we laughed and chatted. We had lots of fun on the way to his home. I was so pleased to see him. It was worth the long journey. ...

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