Review by Paul Lothane
Folksiness is often defined as a combination of being informal, affable and friendly; a characteristic of “simple country life”. Most would agree that this is something traditionally associated largely with black African people concentrated in certain areas, be it townships, towns, or even cities.
Hence we are used to expressions like “he’s my brother” “my brother from another woman” “my sister” etc being used for people who are in fact just acquaintances or even strangers. Folksiness, I hope to argue briefly here, is very much evident in Omoseye Bolaji’s work of fiction, Tebogo and the epithalamion (2009)
The action takes place in a small town where people are very much affable and “folksy” – from the very beginning, even Tebogo himself - a stranger here, is made to feel very welcome. In the first chapter Biggie goes out of his way to come to him, talk to him, and assumes Tebogo would sit down with him and talk. Tebogo is compliant and notes:
“I suppose that’s the beauty of we black folks – we don’t consider such things as an ‘imposition’. Rather I was a bit flattered…”
A bit later on Biggie invites Tebogo to the special ceremony:
“…there are some things you get to know through the locals. For example I am going to a special occasion now and I assure you (that) if you go with me you won’t regret it...the epithalamion.”
“The what?”
Biggie grinned. “I suppose that’s the ‘white’ word that comes closest to describing it…we have special singers that churn out these songs in honour of the bride. In our Sesotho language!”
(pages 8 – 9)
But Neo, the bride to be disappears and Tebogo is easily persuaded to help with investigations. He is invited to Mike’s house where of course he’s given “snacks…cakes and juice”. Then we follow Tebogo as he goes on to talk to “suspects”, or other characters, like Aaron, Seleke Chico, and Rose.
Aaron in fact is initially hostile – with some good reason, as Tebogo directly puts him (Aaron) on the defensive. The initial ambience is that of anger and indignation:
There was a deafening silence but only for a short while, as (Aaron) said: “What’s this rubbish about? Haven’t the police harassed me enough? Who cares if that tart disappears? What’s this for (expletive) sake!”
Yet a few minutes later the same Aaron becomes very affable and loquacious:
Aaron said (to Tebogo); “Pally, sit down and have a glass of drink…” (which Tebogo does, as they go on to talk)
(Page 27)
Chico, who comes across as tough as teak and not a man prone to being friendly, plays the perfect host when Tebogo inadvertently “visits” him at the farm:
Chico stared at me. Here was a strong man! On the few occasions we had met we had hardly talked, but now he was in an expansive mood. ‘Friend” he said to me “We never (really) got acquainted. In our neck of the woods here you can’t just walk past. You must have a tot of this stuff (alcohol)”
(Page 37)
The lady, Rose who has a baby for Seleke, the man who was about to wed Neo, is also entitled to feel cheated but when Tebogo, a complete stranger calls on her uninvited she is as welcoming as anybody can be under the circumstances. In fact she is sedately relaxing and drinking Coke with her sister when Tebogo enters her salon:
With old world courtesy both ladies stood up and ‘begged’ me to sit down. “Pls sir I’m Rose” the more slender one of the ladies said. “This is my sister, my older sister, ausi Maki…”
(Page 42)
Of course if one wants to be hypercritical here, one might argue that it was only logical that Rose would have offered Tebogo some Coke to drink (which she does not). Whether this is due to slack writing by the author is neither here nor there, though.
The important thing is how a chord of folksiness on the part of the people runs through this work. There is a strong, unforced feeling of camaraderie and bonhomie – in part also typified by the many jokes, smiles and grins – in Tebogo and the epithalamion. A feel good factor is reinforced despite the mystery involved; and it is almost as if we black Africans are reclaiming our heritage in the new Millennium.
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