Finale from hell
When organisers of the Miss Universe Botswana announced earlier this year that the pageant was returning, after a ten year-hiatus, some had high hopes for this prestigious exposition. After all, ten years is a long time, and this big return was expected to be spectacular, what the Gen Z would call, something for the books. But alas, having previously attended some of the events leading to the September grand finale, there had been no signs to indicate that the grand finale would take a completely different turn. On Saturday, the patrons and the 18 finalists who made it into the finale waited with abated breath for the crowning of the tenth winner of Miss Universe Botswana.
The event was held at the GICC. To paint a proper picture, when you hear Miss Universe, you expect nothing but the best. A few days before the Saturday event, this reporter had made a telephone call to get a picture of what the audience and Batswana can expect, as well as the line-up of artists who would hype up the event and take it a notch up. She was however informed that the details were still been finalised. Browsing through the Miss Universe Botswana social media pages, there was also nothing to indicate that there were some performances that would take place on this particular evening.
In the past, most of the major events in Botswana have used artists, to drive ticket sales. Yet this was not the case. Secondly, on Thursday, another call was made to enquire about media tickets/ passes into the event. Again, we were informed that there were no physical tickets, and that a media list will be used to give the media access into the event. Ideally, one would have expected the organisation to have been the one extending the invites but no, it wasn't the case.
On the day of the event, we had high hopes despite the shortcomings. On a very biting Saturday, we left for the venue and arrived around 20hr00. And upon arrival, we were shown the desk where we could enquire about the media tags, ouch, one of the ushers was clueless about us, literally in the dark. Adding more to this puzzle was how some of these ushers were sipping wine, perhaps nothing wrong with that, but hello, your task is to direct and usher guests to their seats without notable glitches. After we got over the shock of an usher who did not know this publication, the oldest private newspaper in Botswana for that matter, we were handed over to someone else. And this is where it got interesting.
As our tags were for VIP, and were supposedly taken to the VIP entrance. Lo and b hold, we are taken into the hall, and made to walk right in front of the stage while the Minister was on the stage officially opening the event. To say, we were embarrassed was an understatement. Ordinarily, ushers or those who know about protocol will ask to wait while there is a speaker on stage before they are ushered to their seats. After barely getting over this shock and embarrassment, we sat down, and braced for what would turn into a whirlwind of an event. A poet was called to the stage, stage fright got the best of her, and she retraced her steps back. A group comprising of two supposed upcoming artists was called to the stage.
One of them attempted to freestyle but like the poet before him, he told the audience that he had stage fright. They sang a few unknown songs before concluding their performance. The poet returned again to the stage but still was too shaky to deliver anything tangible. Another artist performed attempting to warm up the crowd. The situation was saved by a trio, of dancers, dancing to one of the 80/90’s hits. This was the only time that the audience were on their feet. And then it was time for the finalists to take to the stage with German prints shorts.
This was the first of four outfits that they wore during the night. What soon became obvious was how it was clear that the organisers might have done an injustice to the competition by taking 18 ladies to the finals. Ideally, and what is the norm is that around 10/ 12 ladies usually make it to the last round of the competition. You can imagine sitting there and watching 18 ladies strutting their stuff on stage, and multiply that with four change outfits. After the first attire, they changed into traditional attires of German print.
We appreciate that they were trying to add diversity to the event, but it was just unnecessary. Their third change were swimsuits, and lastly Evening Gowns. By the time they were in their fourth attire, some were already antsy, and losing patience. Adding salt to the injury for the audience was that the VIP’s had a meal/ snack after 23:00. Who eats at that hour, and one wonders why the meal was left up until that eleventh hour. What became evident was the lack of organisation, and someone who was firm when it comes to time management. It also appeared as if there was no stage manager, it was like the event was running on auto pilot. Another eye sore, was noting that the public voting was only opened for less than an hour.
This was meant to give the public to vote for their favourite. How do you give the audience that short notice to vote for their favourite at such a time. Sebaga Manyapetsa won the public vote, sailing into the Top 6. Again, this Top 6 was unnecessary, had they cut the finalists to 12, at that stage they would have picked the Top 3. The top 6, were given a series of questions from different judges. And this is where things got very interesting. It still beats logic, how the poor ladies were expected to still be fresh and ready to answer questions at midnight, or after midnight.
The frustrating part was trying to process and listen to the questions. What happened to asking simple questions instead of tricky, and puzzling? After the Top 6, the ladies were trimmed to 3. And this time, they were asked the same question and it was at past 0100. Once more, even this question was just a complete maze. Eventually, a winner, Thanolo Keutlule, was crowned at almost 0200hrs.