16/05/2026
𝐄𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐆𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐞
16 𝑴𝒂𝒚 2026 — 𝑼𝑩 𝑰𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝑨𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒂
“I rise here today, at this solemn gathering, to add my voice to the chorus of praise and commendations for our departed leader and statesman. I also dedicate these weak and feeble words to the memory of this great man.
Today we lay to rest our former President, the Third President of the Republic of Botswana, Festus Gontebanye Mogae. When I received news of his passing, the words that came to my mind were relayed by Joseph Conrad:
“He won’t be forgotten. Whatever he was, he was not common.”
A technocrat of humble beginnings, comparable to heroes of myth and faith, he rose to a position of power, hand-picked by providence; a gift of history. His Excellency the late President Masire was drawn to Festus Mogae. Masire recognised something in Mogae and kept him close: first as his Permanent Secretary, then his Minister of Finance, then his Vice President and, in the ultimate instance, his successor. He became thus the Third President of this great country. President Masire felt the premonition that, whatever he was, Festus Mogae was not common.
His entry into the scabrous landscape of politics was unconventional. His sojourn therein, “his very existence was improbable, inexplicable, and altogether bewildering. He was an insoluble problem. It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far, how he had managed to remain — why he did not instantly disappear.”
A gentleman of the Oxbridge mould. Educated, but neither elitist nor snobbish. Down to earth, and humble to a fault. His self-effacing humility seemed to render him unaware of his clout and gravitas. A leader of compelling authenticity. He was not common.
Erudite and opinionated, Festus Mogae relished a debate. His response to fierce opposing views gained my respect and recurrent admiration. Neither dismissive nor authoritarian, he listened and responded. He sought understanding, not validation. He upheld free speech, often dealt raw and undeodorized. Unvarnished, but always attended by civility and respect.
Here was a leader who resisted the tantalising options of snuffing out the democratic impulses and energies so vital to the deepening of democracy in our country. He understood that democracy grew not in lockstep agreement, but in the rowdy, rebellious tug-of-war taking place in public discourse. In all these wars and more, he strengthened and energised our democracy. He was not common.
Behind such a great man is a family that sacrifices to enable him. He was able to pour himself out in our service; to give, give, and give, because of those who supported him. He stood firm and strong because his family bore with him the malice and scornful derision of his detractors. There is no greater support than the support of family; for the unseen support, for the unheard counsel, for the tender love and care they gave him privately, away from prying eyes. For the sacrifices they made. The time that could have been spent with him, but was not. The memories that could have been made, but were not. The tears that were shed and never wiped. The hardships and hurdles that were faced in loneliness. The children that needed their father, who at times was not there. The wife that needed her husband, who at times was leading a country instead of their household.
The country cannot afford to recompense you for depriving you of the comfort and love to which you were entitled. However, the country is eternally in your debt for sharing such an uncommon man with all of us. We honour his legend. We acknowledge you with gratitude. He was who he was because you loved him. This country is what it is because he loved us. May your hearts be consoled.
We return to you the love you and him gave us a million-fold. Love — the most supreme of virtues — binds us all together in perfect unity. As a nation, we affirm that the charms and allurements of our togetherness prevail over any faults and foibles of our past. We love you. We thank you.
And I return to where and how I started, and adopt as my own the evocative and unbounded force of Joseph Conrad’s eloquence; his burning noble words, as he takes the storm and makes the point for me again and again:
“He won’t be forgotten. Whatever he was, he was not common. He had the power to charm or frighten rudimentary souls into an aggravated witch-dance in his honour; he could also fill the small souls of the pilgrims with bitter misgivings; he had one devoted friend at least, and he had conquered one soul in the world that was neither rudimentary nor tainted with self-seeking.
No; I can't forget him… a subtle bond had been created, of which I only became aware when it was suddenly broken… like a claim of distant kinship affirmed in a supreme moment.”
He rests now, not as the end of a journey, but the punctuation of a return to eternity; an uncommon consciousness of immortality.
May our nation be comforted.”
