Continuing in our Hall of Kings series:
"KING KHAMA, Khama of the Ba-Mangwato. “
I must say I looked forward with great interest to seeing a man with so wide a reputation for integrity and enlightenment as Khama has in southern Africa.
Somehow, one’s spirit of scepticism is on the alert on such occasions, especially when an African is the case in point; and I candidly admit that I advanced towards Palapwe fully prepared to find the chief of the Ba-mangwato a rascal and a hypocrite, and that I left his capital, after a week’s stay there, one of his most fervent admirers.
Not only has Khama himself established his reputation for honesty, but he is supposed to have inoculated all his people with the same virtue. No one is supposed to steal in Khama’s country. He regulates the price of the goat you buy; and the milk vendor dare not ask more than the regulation price, nor can you get it for less.
One evening, on our journey from Shoshong to Palapwe, we passed a loaded wagon by the roadside with no one to guard it save a dog; and surely, we thought, such confidence as this implies a security for property rare enough in southern Africa.
The aspect of Palapwe is very pleasant. Fine timber covers the hill slopes. A large grassy square, shaded by trees, and with a stream running through it, has been devoted to the outspanning of the many wagons which pass through here.
Everything in Khama’s town is conducted with the rigour of religious enthusiasm.
The chief conducts in person church services, twice every Sunday, in his large round kotla, at which he expects a large attendance.
He stands beneath the traditional tree of justice and the canopy of heaven, quite in patriarchal style. In manner the chief is essentially a gentleman, courteous and dignified.
He rides a good deal and prides himself on his stud. On one occasion he did what I doubt if every English gentleman would do. He sold a horse for a high price, which died a few days afterwards, whereupon Khama returned the purchase money, considering that the illness had been acquired previous to the purchase taking place.
On his wagons he has painted in English, “Khama, Chief of the Ba-mangwato”. They say he understands a great deal of our tongue, but he never trusts himself to speak it, always using an interpreter.
There is something Teutonic in Khama’s imperial discipline, but the Bechuana are made of different stuff to the Germans.
They are by nature peaceful and mild, a race with strong pastoral habits, who have lived for years in dread of Matabele raids; consequently their respect for a chief like Khama – who has actually on one occasion repulsed the foe and who has established peace, prosperity and justice in all his borders – is unbounded, and his word is law.
Khama pervades everything in his town. He is always on horseback, visiting the fields, the stores and the outlying kraals.
He has a word for every one; he calls every woman ‘my daughter’ and every man ‘my son’; he pats the little children on the head.
He is a veritable father of his people, a curious and unaccountable outcrop of mental power and integrity amongst a degraded and powerless race.
His early history and struggles with his father and brothers are thrilling in the extreme and his later development extraordinary. Perhaps he may be said to be the only African living whose biography would repay the writing.” Extract from “The Ruined Cities of Mashonaland” by J.Theodore Bent, F.S.A. F.R.G.S. – 1892
"KING KHAMA, Khama of the Ba-Mangwato. “
I must say I looked forward with great interest to seeing a man with so wide a reputation for integrity and enlightenment as Khama has in southern Africa.
Somehow, one’s spirit of scepticism is on the alert on such occasions, especially when an African is the case in point; and I candidly admit that I advanced towards Palapwe fully prepared to find the chief of the Ba-mangwato a rascal and a hypocrite, and that I left his capital, after a week’s stay there, one of his most fervent admirers.
Not only has Khama himself established his reputation for honesty, but he is supposed to have inoculated all his people with the same virtue. No one is supposed to steal in Khama’s country. He regulates the price of the goat you buy; and the milk vendor dare not ask more than the regulation price, nor can you get it for less.
One evening, on our journey from Shoshong to Palapwe, we passed a loaded wagon by the roadside with no one to guard it save a dog; and surely, we thought, such confidence as this implies a security for property rare enough in southern Africa.
The aspect of Palapwe is very pleasant. Fine timber covers the hill slopes. A large grassy square, shaded by trees, and with a stream running through it, has been devoted to the outspanning of the many wagons which pass through here.
Everything in Khama’s town is conducted with the rigour of religious enthusiasm.
The chief conducts in person church services, twice every Sunday, in his large round kotla, at which he expects a large attendance.
He stands beneath the traditional tree of justice and the canopy of heaven, quite in patriarchal style. In manner the chief is essentially a gentleman, courteous and dignified.
He rides a good deal and prides himself on his stud. On one occasion he did what I doubt if every English gentleman would do. He sold a horse for a high price, which died a few days afterwards, whereupon Khama returned the purchase money, considering that the illness had been acquired previous to the purchase taking place.
On his wagons he has painted in English, “Khama, Chief of the Ba-mangwato”. They say he understands a great deal of our tongue, but he never trusts himself to speak it, always using an interpreter.
There is something Teutonic in Khama’s imperial discipline, but the Bechuana are made of different stuff to the Germans.
They are by nature peaceful and mild, a race with strong pastoral habits, who have lived for years in dread of Matabele raids; consequently their respect for a chief like Khama – who has actually on one occasion repulsed the foe and who has established peace, prosperity and justice in all his borders – is unbounded, and his word is law.
Khama pervades everything in his town. He is always on horseback, visiting the fields, the stores and the outlying kraals.
He has a word for every one; he calls every woman ‘my daughter’ and every man ‘my son’; he pats the little children on the head.
He is a veritable father of his people, a curious and unaccountable outcrop of mental power and integrity amongst a degraded and powerless race.
His early history and struggles with his father and brothers are thrilling in the extreme and his later development extraordinary. Perhaps he may be said to be the only African living whose biography would repay the writing.” Extract from “The Ruined Cities of Mashonaland” by J.Theodore Bent, F.S.A. F.R.G.S. – 1892
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