24 Feb 2020

It starts to drizzle as we approach a team of Ipelegeng workers, busy removing the damp sand and slashing grass along the traffic ‘frenzied’ Western Bypass in Gaborone. 

Crouched over to swing their slashers all in a synchronised manner, these workers seem oblivious to the speeding traffic and our approach, as they are all focused on the work. 

Ultimately, our presence catches the eye of an elderly gray haired man, who slowly rises from the crouched position, in an effort to stand straight, but holds on to his slasher as though his life ‘emanates’ from it.

As he slowly walks towards us, the elderly citizen wipes his hand against his overall pants and stretches his arm out in salutations and presents himself as Charles Mbombo.

“I am doing so well” he says, by way of introduction. But his grimace suggests otherwise and  his wriggled face, however lights up as he commences to narrate the story of his life as an Ipelegeng worker.

Born in Beetsha village, north of the Okavango Delta in 1944, where poverty was the order of the day, Mr Mbombo migrated to the then South West Africa, today’s Namibia,  in 1958. There he survived on odd hand to mouth jobs for 21 years, before fleeing back to Botswana in 1978, on the eve of South West Africa People’s Organisation (SWAPO)’s guerrilla warfare campaign.

In an effort to escape from the hardship of poverty in his native Beetsa, ‘Ratsie’ as he is affectionately referred to at his work place, due to his admiration of the legendary folk musical prodigy Ratsie Setlhako, relocated to  Gaborone in 1980, to escape poverty.

The going got tough for Mbombo, as he struggled to make ends meet and survive the hustle and bustle of the financially demanding Gaborone life, from his year of arrival until his first enrolment in the Ipelegeng programme in 2017.

When he first enrolled in the Ipelegeng programme, Mbombo says people would taunt and make fun of him for doing such a ‘dirty and low paying job’. But for him, the choice was between putting food on the table and hunger.

He speaks softly and avoids making eye contact as he explains, “I was shy and was worried about how people would view me, more so that I was one of the elderly in the group.”

“In fact, some of my four children were angry that I decided to take up this kind of job. But I told them since they cannot meet my needs, and are unable to get me a better job, I had to do this ….”

A widower since 2005, with four mouths to feed, the 76-year-old has only applause for the Ipelegeng programme, as it has been the only source of survival for him and his family, since the demise of his wife. 

From 2017 to date, Mbombo said cherishes every moment he spends in the programme, as neither the rain nor the scorching heat, are sufficient excuses to deter him from going to work.  

His morning, starts at six, with a routine checklist at the local ward development office, where he hooks up with other colleagues to be allocated their tools of the trade, (brooms and slashers), which he casually refers to as his daily ammunition. “Nothing stands in my way to keep the city clean with a slasher or broom in my hand, hence I call it ammunition,” he said, with a shy smile.

But the work is physically crushing; bending over for hours at a time to sweep thick layers of sand off the asphalt with a straw broom leaves many a sweeper with debilitating aches and pains.

“This job is not for the fainthearted,” Mbombo admits, adding that ‘most times my body aches, but I am not fazed by that because this is the only employment I have and I have responsibilities to meet, like to take care of my children.’

 He takes a sip from a two-litre container of water he had safely kept by the shade and follows that with a swing of his slasher, as he continues to manicure the grass sandwiched between the road reserve and the  pedestrian way. He then halts and says, ‘the dust and sand can cause respiratory problems and eye infections for the workers, more so that there is no protective clothing. but I am committed to the core, despite the challenges.’ 

 The pains in his aging muscles and joints, which heavy doses of pain killers have done little to suppress, are not the only side effect of this work, as he says he constantly suffers from respiratory problems and eye infections.

“As you can see, our health is in jeopardy, as we are exposed to hazardous conditions without being issued protective clothing,” he said.

By about 10 am, Mbombo takes a much needed break from his labour intensive job and joins some his already queueing colleagues for their midmorning feeding break.

“Ipelegeng might have its own woes, but I take my hat off to government for introducing the feeding break, where we are supplied with meals to sustain us to the completion of our tasks,” says Mbombo.

The positive impact of the programme to many ordinary Batswana out there, he said, are second to none and need to be acknowledged, hence beneficiaries should strive to deliver at all costs, to ensure the sustainability and viability of the programme.

Rain clouds start to gather overhead immediately after their feeding break and it is clear that another downpour is on its way. Mbombo and his colleagues would prefer not to be caught in it, so they  quickly run for cover in the nearby bus stop shade.

He mentioned that even though the programme continues to address the plight of the poor, through temporary employment, government needs to however create permanent and sustainable employment opportunities.

At noon, it is raining cats and dogs, but Mbombo’s shifts ends at 1230pm, hence the crew is still trapped in the bus stop shelter for refuge. 

 Despite the risks to their health as a result of their work and the danger inherent in working so adjacent to speeding vehicles, the workers receive neither health nor life insurance, but only P500 a month, which Mbombo says he augments by doing minor casual jobs, after knocking off from Ipelegeng.

Through the Ipelegeng wages, Ratsie says he has managed to sustain himself and his family  and put a roof over their heads.

With all the odds stacked against the Ipelegeng workers, with regard to their welfare and low remuneration, Mbombo has a constant fear of  what would happen to his children if he was to be severely injured while on duty or if government was to abolish the programme.

The Ipelegeng programme he said, has contributed immensely in improving the lives of many, who have limited means of survival, particularly in poverty stricken communities in rural areas. 

By the end of his shift, Mbombo is clearly exhausted, but he has plans, he says, for a life away from the dust and grime of the streets.

“This is not the kind of job one should do for a very long time. It saps one’s energy and exposes one to all kinds of danger, but at the same time has relieved a lot of Batswana from the jaws of abject poverty,” he reflects. 

As he manicures grass and grime off the city roads, Mbombo  remains optimistic of a brighter tomorrow.

Ipelegeng is a government initiative, whose main objective is to provide short term employment support and relief whilst at the same time carrying out essential development projects that have been identified and prioritised through the normal development planning processes.

The programme targets unskilled and semi-skilled labour for short term assistance due to other economic factors through the use of simple tools and machinery.

In 2008, the programme shifted its focus from drought relief to poverty alleviation and it currently targets to engage a total of 50 000 beneficiaries per month.

Recruitment into the programme is done by the Village or Ward Development Committees (V/WDCs) at the village Kgotla.

Employment is for a period of 20 days, working six hours a day.  Employment is not on permanent basis.

 All beneficiaries are engaged on rotational basis, with preference given to those who were not engaged previously thereby spreading the opportunities and benefits. Ends