Mokgwatlheng, you were many things to so many people that no one should claim to know you better than the other.

While your multiple characters never changed the person you were, locating your exactness was an insurmountable challenge.

The good thing in the maverick you, or enigma, as others describe you, was that you got on well with everyone. I'm still to know who your enemy was.

You defied the rules of friendship, but somehow managed to keep friends. How you did that is really puzzling. You did not shed your identity to be submerged in a group.

That you were a "Motswana wa Mokgwatlheng" was written on your forehead. You have always remained truthful to your roots and to yourself; even when telling a lie no one would convince you otherwise.

"Mathousand," your contribution to the development and sustenance of your Setswana language may have gone unnoticed, but the two awards you received from the Pan South African Language Board and the music industry of Botswana speak volumes.

You single-handedly broke new ground when you unapologetically introduced and popularised Setswana cultural music.

That the premier of North West renamed the Leopark Park Golf Course in your honour captures the influence you had in popularising the sport in the province.

You had a few friends and hundreds of acquaintances, and you always mentioned by name a few in the darkest hours of your life as your condition deteriorated.

In one of your sound clips played at your memorial service you say: "Those that are your friends you will always find around you in your darkest hour." I can't agree with you more. We were always a handful around you when your health deteriorated.

In May, your birth month, you took your last trip to Miegdol farm school as part of your annual pilgrimage to deliver health products, including sanitary towels to children, as you have been doing for the past 15 years.

Again in May you took a journey to Kathu in Northern Cape on what was to be your last annual Cebo Manyaapelo Golf Day. These two events are among the many that drove you away from the microphone at Motsweding FM.

You were very young when you joined Bop Broadcasting Corporation in December 1983 after writing your matric exam and even before you had received your results. Bravo!

In the tributes paid to you, one stands out for me as it best described what and who you are. Pitso Mosimane's eulogy narrates how he ended up sitting on empty beer crates at a sheeben you took him to, in Montshioa township.

"Finding myself at Nimla's shebeen, at the back of the house with local boys Cebo grew up with, capture the best identity of who he was," Mosimane said in a TV interview.

Manyaapelo, 50, was buried in Mahikeng yesterday.