The story starts here: The Story of this Motley Crew – part II – TheGreatReset(of2020) (thegreatreset-thorn.com)

He is an enigma. He keeps to himself, knows how to survive in the veld eating from the bounty of nature, and works harder than any of the young men on the team.

When there is a debate on site, whether a raging clash of ideologies, or a philosophical debate about the nature of decline of political parties, he will get a far off look in his eyes, like he is gathering filaments of information from all corners of the world, and then he weaves his response into a well-considered mantle of knowledge.

Very much use or lose it. And mostly, it is wise to use it.

Not much is known about his past. And for some strange reason, not many people have attempted an interrogation. So, this would be the crumbs where we pick up his story. Or rather, his stories.

Some say he was raised by wolves. Having drifted down river as a toddler on a raft constructed of old pallets, not crying, accompanied by a flock of twittering birds, his life-raft beached on the sandy banks of a side stream to the mighty Okavango River. The wolves found him; they did not devour him as a morsel of sweet meat. Instead, they gently took him by the loose folds of the hide he wore and raised him as a member of the pack.

The story diverges here. Some say he was later found by a local witchdoctor, who taught him all the secrets of the veld. What herbs to use for toothache, medicine for stomach upsets, and the secret to longevity. And the many uses of old wooden pallets, from lean-to shelters, to raised vegetable beds, and many more.

There is another tale often repeated late at night. In this account, he is very, very old. Some say, he personally brokered the safe passage of the Dorsland Trekkers. These “Trekkers” consisted of a succession of explorers searching for political independence from 1874, to 1881.

Now if you are paying attention, you would at this point exclaim disbelief. Because that would make him more than 170 years old…..

Mine is not to reason why, mine is to share with you the tales told. But I will tell you this, it could make sense, if you see the sage way he advises the young men of the working crew on the meaning of life, and why it is important to make your peace with your friend, and your foe.

Some say, that after his family disappeared one stormy night, he spent all his days and nights searching. Searching the backstreets of all the towns in the region, searching all the abandoned villages in the North, searching the ghettos of the city, even in the poorest pallet homes part of the poorest locations, searching in vain. And no one knows whether he gave up hope, and became a hermit, or whether he scoured every inch of the secluded countryside which is how he came to learn about surviving on what nature provides.

Either way, he must have found at least his mother and his sister, because his entire pay packet is sent home, and on occasion a beautifully woven basket, filled to the brim with all manner of dried berries, or Mopane worms; or hand-crafted rubber string extricated from worn tyres, finds its way to whichever site he has found employment at. And he shares. With his paltry possessions fitting into a small duffel bag, he still shares. He shares his food, and his wisdom.

Some say he saved someone’s life once, at great personal peril. And when he woke up from the induced coma the doctors had to place him under for his body to recover, he could not remember anything. He was told he was found under a pile of pallets near an overturned lorry; hence he took the name John Pallet. We will never know the real story of John Pallet. But look into his eyes. You will see the wisdom, the harmony, and you will see his truth.

How does he fit in the end ? –>The Story of this Motley Crew – part II – TheGreatReset(of2020) (thegreatreset-thorn.com)

The story starts here:The Story of this Motley Crew – part II – TheGreatReset(of2020) (thegreatreset-thorn.com)

Now here is a naughty fellow. Although that would be unfair to taint him forever by the brush of his youthful folly.

And to be fair, he did not have the most stable role models as a child. So it is no wonder that he had no specific qualms about what one to do to survive. Not only survival, also how to make money.

Even as a child, he was always hustling. Collecting empty beer bottles from the shebeens near and far from his family’s abode, to sell back to the brewer. Perhaps bottles just lying about, perhaps taking a couple from the neat stacks the proprietor set aside to take later.

Or, as a sinewy teenager, he earned protection money by taking pensioners to the mobile pay point on pension pay day. Sometimes for money, sometimes for a slice of Auntie Babs’ Mahangu cake.

It is sad commentary on the state of society today, that shebeens are the most sure-fire way to make money. And it is sad because it takes from those with little, and ultimately gives to those who have a lot. It takes money, it takes dignity, it takes hope. This is possibly why he only dabbled with the devil’s juice for a short bit.

But it is all the more disheartening, that he fell afoul of the law on one of his “procurement expeditions”, and it was in the detention centre, that he was introduced to drugs. Nothing hard at that stage, just the furtive scurries of monkey tobacco. Aka Cannabis.

It made him king of the world, and nothing could take him down. Being a talented maker of plans, he started growing the stuff, vertically integrating his distribution channels, and general man about town. It was not enough. He wanted more. A SWOT analysis (although he may not have known the formal term for identifying your strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats), pointed him in the direction of expanding into towns, and eventually the city. Afterall, one needs volumes to make money.

Besides, the local “fuzz” was starting to impede his delivery schedules.

On his second promo trip, he had his best quality produce with him. Enough to make the big boys sit up and take notice. And they sat up and noticed.

They eagerly awaited his arrival at the product launch, at a seedy bar in town. In a blur of violence, guns, and blue lights, they fleeced him of everything he had on him, even the pocket watch which was his last remembrance of his late father. Ironic that it is fortunate that they left him for dead because that meant that the cops mistook him for collateral damage.

It was his cousin, who knew what he was up to, that found him in the alley and hid him in the home of the brother on the mother’s side of Aunt Babs for two months, while he healed. Maybe he would not have had the limp he still has today, had his cousin taken him to hospital, but where they came from, you looked after your own.

Now Aunt Babs may have the best Mahangu cake in the world. But Aunt Babs has a sharp tongue, and a mean spanking action. BaasLang’s healing was perhaps longer than necessary, after Aunt Babs was done with him.

But I will grant Aunt Babs this credit. She knows young wayward men. And she does not indulge their ways. It was under her eagle-eyed watch, that BaasLang recovered his senses, and his sense. The cousin who picked him up in the alley managed to get him a job as a general worker at a construction company, where soon the bosses saw this guy was sharp. He quickly picked up skills like welding; and coupled with his ingenious ways of making things work, he soon became a firm favourite for contract work.

He still has that cheeky swagger. The one that says, look out, look up, I’m going places. But he has dropped the social malaise that is the drug culture. He is an ardent soccer supporter and plays a fair game himself. He now looks after his lady like a man should. He now is a supervisor that cares for his fellow workmen. You watch him now; he is going places.

How does he fit in at the end? –> The Story of this Motley Crew – part II – TheGreatReset(of2020) (thegreatreset-thorn.com)

The story starts here: The Story of this Motley Crew – part II – TheGreatReset(of2020) (thegreatreset-thorn.com)

While we don’t know Bru Ben, we like him. Mr Jokes is his other name. I am not sure he is intentionally funny, but nonetheless, where he is, there is general laughter all round.

Take this photograph of the crew as an example. There he was, minding his own business, when he startled a lazy sun-baked lizard out of minding its very own business. I say he startled the lizard, but I think it was the other way around. How else do you think BruBen ended up in the wheelbarrow?

A very happy-go-lucky soul, who easily breezes in and out of town, wherever the winds of fortune carry him. And he always seems to have something. Something he is happy to share and share alike. Even if he has not been on a job for a few weeks, if he has an apple in his pocket, he will share it with you. Quite possibly, that is the secret to happiness. Don’t hog, share. And be content with what the universe shares with you. Whether by way of an unforeseen job opportunity when you, if truth be told, came to visit your brother from another mother, or the fact that it was not a poisonous snake that was baking on the rake in the sun.

How does he fit in at the end? –> The Story of this Motley Crew – part II – TheGreatReset(of2020) (thegreatreset-thorn.com)