The procedures and aesthetic styles of these courts differed greatly. For Tshidi, who had a rich tradition of public oratory-they even nicknamed men by their known rhetorical gifts and idiosyncrasies-the sekgoa courts were marked by their impoverished discourse. "A magistrate only wants to know what happened," an irritated old man told us, echoing the perception of many Tshidi. "'Quickly! Was this law or that law broken?' He is not interested in people's lives!" In the kgotla, time was not an issue, and "facts" were debated as part of the construction and negotiation of biographies (Comaroff and Roberts 1981); in setswana, by contrast to En- glish, "fact" and "deed" are indistinguishable. A case (tsheko) was itself an aspect of tiro, a moment in the constant process of social engagement. The magistrate or the Bantu Commis- sioner, whose courts were invested by tangible signs of state power, belonged firmly in the domain of bereka. Not only were they situated in Mafeking, but, more often than not, defen- dants appeared before them because of an offense allegedly committed at work, because they had violated the property of whites, or because they had defaulted on the obligations of some or other sekgoa contract. And usually they had to pay for their crimes by "serving time" or by forfeiting their cash wages