The Onion that WON’T Shrivel

Source : Kutlwano

Author : Mothusi Soloko

Location : Gaborone

Event : Feature

 

As we tried hard to suppress our breaths as if something awful awaited us, the minibus finally came to an abrupt stop under a big Morula tree, signaling the end of our journey. The venue was the Gaborone taxi rank from where my eyes fell on what looked like a giant onion towering over the bushes below. And a gaze at the giant onion-like tower evoked memories past.

That was the Onion Tower, the distinctive yesteryear landmark of Gaborone, which not very long ago, was capable of capturing the imagination of people from afar and near.

The tower used to be one of the rare signature buildings of the city, and that was the time when those who had the privilege of staying in Gaborone referred to KFC as Kentucky; when munching a meat pie was a sign of utmost sophistication, and when drinking cold beer was associated with prestige.

It was the time when those who were semi-modernised referred to Ice-cream as ice-grim.  It is incredible and sometimes sad how fast time flies! 

There were not many buses then; just a few with bags loaded on roof tops in a manner similar to some buses we usually see shuttling between Botswana and some neighbouring countries. 

As we alighted, another bus hoaxed its way sending swirls of dust in the air as it meandered its way through possibly to Lobatse. “Is this the Gaborone I have heard about?  But then what of the dust and the morula tree, I thought they talked about lights and all the nice things in Gaborone,” I asked myself.

Contrary to my imagination, there were not many fantasies, and on that day the heat was enough to melt my shoe soles. There were young men who kept afro hair while their trousers were several inches shy of the ankles. Also present were the nasty but pretty girls who would respond with, “never mind I`m not your type,” to any of the young men who tried to initiate a conversation with them. A shrubby bush sprawled to the north, and the roof of the Parliament building dazzled from a distance to the east, while the onion towered like a giant mushroom from another direction thereby alienating my imagination.

I looked around and realised that it was the only thing that decorated the sky. “Maybe I`m at the wrong side of town, this can`t be Gaborone, I have heard of all the nice stories,” once again I said to myself.

The taxi rank was itself densely populated but the onion tower gave me a reason to want to explore further. I arrived at the foot of the Onion in the company of several people who had come from far-off places just to admire this rare building. 

Getting a little bit underneath the structure and gazing at the top gave me a dizzy feeling. There were several groups of students who had come from far off just to have a glance at this rare structure.

The curiosity, I guess, stemmed from exaggerated stories by those who had visited the onion tower before. It was the talk of the town and the stories captured everyone`s imagination. That was in 1987. And today when I pass at the taxi rank, the onion still towers gigantically while the mushrooming of the latest developments compliments its elegant look. It is still a contender as an attraction in the Gaborone Sky line.

Built in the 1970s the 38-meter high tower has the capacity to hold 250 cubic meters of water. It is the only reservoir built out of steel because the rest are built from cement.  

The market of its admirers has since switched from ordinary members of the public to corporations. We hear from the Water Utilities Corporation communication manager, Matida Mmipi, that some corporations want to use it for advertising but they turned down offers. “We want it to just stay as it is; it is classic in its own right and blends well with the Gaborone skyline,” she says.ENDS

Teaser:

 

The tower used to be one of the rare signature buildings of the city, and that was the time when those who had the privilege of staying in Gaborone referred to KFC as Kentucky; when munching a meat pie was a sign of utmost sophistication, and when drinking cold beer was associated with prestige.