On Death Row: We all are

By Samuel Mphuthi

After being hurt by his gay lover and disowned by his father the young man became a serial killer to pay revenge to people who hurt him. He further plays God by averaging for the weak and those he loves. To be able to complete his hit list he has to hand himself to police so that he can get a chance to kill one last person on his hit list and that means he will be put on death row.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Digital On Demand
• Release date: Oct 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780796115263

Book preview

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ON DEATH ROW

we all are

⁘

A story by

Sam Mphuthi

On Death Row is Sam Mphuthi’s own creation.

First edition 2019. All rights reserved.

Second edition 2020

© 2020 Sam Mphuthi

Published by Samuel Mphuthi

ISBN: 978-0-620-83105-5

eISBN: 978-0-7961-1526-3

Editor: Brenda Burgess www.brendaburgesseditor.com

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to any person, place or event is entirely accidental.

To order copies of this book, contact the author at:

[phone] or [e-mail]

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to acknowledge the incredible support of my wife and my family: without your help I would not have finished this book. My severe physical limitations due to the accident meant that the simple act of typing a line were a huge challenge, but with your encouragement I have persevered and learnt to use my computer in a new way. Thanks to this skill, I can continue to tell the stories that are in my imagination.

Thank you to Brenda Burgess, my editor and friend, for her encouragement and creative input in this new project.

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my two sons, Pule and Siyabonga.

Go on, my sons; the world is waiting for you out there.

Carry my legacy forward and make me proud

Other books by Sam Mphuthi:

Election Day

Coming Home

You Won’t Fail

Mangolo A Leshome

The Story Of A Poet

Prologue

At the time of publication, capital punishment is still practiced in Botswana. This excerpt, taken from The King’s Journal: From the Horse’s Mouth by Kgafela Linchwe, describes the final moments of a condemned man on death row in Botswana.

Before the Court of Appeal commuted his death sentence in July 2005, Mothusi Phiri bore aural witness to the execution of Simon Douglas and some other unnamed prisoners. From his cell, Phiri could hear prison guards preparing and testing the gallows trap door a day before the execution. On the day of the execution itself, he heard the shuffle of feet as the first two prisoners were led to the gallows. He heard the sobs and other sounds of terror - then crack–boom! as the trap door sprang open. It is a very unique sound from outside this world, he says. It is like the sound of a fierce thunderclap. He knew two were dangling just across the wall of his cell next door. His head swirled in madness of what was going on upstairs. After a little while, about 30 minutes later, another crack-boom! The last one was dangling. The gallows machine in Botswana takes two prisoners at a time.

Thus, where there are three souls to dispatch, two go first followed by a last one who is usually made to watch in horror as the first two dangle, Kgafela writes. Phiri’s ordeal was relayed to him a client of his, Kinsley Sebele, who witnessed this particular execution. By the latter’s account, one of the condemned men staggered into the noose, praying frantically loud in Ikalanga language. The praying continued until the noose was tightened around his neck. The execution chamber is said to be just around the corner from the death row cells. Its nearness is such that every small movement, sound and activity that takes place in the hanging room can be perceived clearly from the regular cells. In this way, the prisoners in these regular cells get to participate fully in the ritual of hanging taking place in the room above them."

I’ve only these words to say, your honour. They way I see it, we were all put on death row the day Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden. Human beings are born to die, and we are all on death row.

Chapter 1

In this journey called life, death is a destiny and a final destination common to all of us. No human being has ever born and never die. We are all born to die, it is just a matter of when and how. And during my life, I have learnt that some deaths are necessary. To Christians, the death of Jesus Christ was necessary and of a huge importance.

Being on death row for killing nine people in the last seven years (I include my biological father and my stepfather in this number) does, I think, qualify me as an expert on this subject.

Gatlhabane is a small village in Molepolole in the district of Kweneng, fifty kilometers from Gaborone in Botswana. My father, Goitsemang Knowledge Tlhabane, was the well-known and respected son of Reitumetse Caiphus Tlhabane, a former chief of Gatlhabane village. From 1957 (when my father was only two years old) my grandfather Chief Reitumetse ruled Gatlhabane with immeasurable love and dedication. For 33 years until he was put to rest in 1991 at the age of 63, he served the Batswana in the best possible way. When I was born in 1974, he insisted that I should be named Reitumetse Tlhabane. Carrying such a great name on my shoulder was a mammoth responsibility and left enormous shoes for me to fill. Yet being the son of Goitsemang Knowledge Tlhabane carried even more honour.

My father’s birth in 1955 brought great joy to the lives of both my grandmother Boitumelo Princess Masire and Chief Reitumetse Tlhabane. They had married in 1947 and for eight long years there was no sign of a child. And then, on 28th March 1955, their son and only child, Goitsemang Tlhabane was born. My father was the apple of not only my grandparent’s eyes but the apple of everyone else’s eyes in Gatlhabane because of the love they had for their chief. And of course they felt tremendously relieved that the long wait for the royal family and the entire community of Gatlhabane was now over. It was no surprise that huge attention was directed towards the chief’s infant son.

Being the only child of his parents and the son of the chief of the village, my father was given the kind of life all the money in the world could possibly buy. He attended the best schools in Botswana and abroad, learning no less than seven languages besides his mother tongue, including Spanish, German and French. It was expected of him to return one day to Botswana to succeed his father as the chief of Gatlhabane village, and so my grandfather and everybody else in Gatlhabane waited for him to come back from abroad to relieve his father of his responsibilities. But Goitsemang Tlhabane’s visits to his