When they say, "Never say never"....

Long overdue greetings to you all.

First I need to apologise for my sudden disappearance on the blogging scene. I can give you a number of reasons and excuses and hope that you will just understand. But the truth really: I stumbled and lost my way, in the process lost interest in having contact with the world! Lame, I know for a person who claims to have found the formula to live a simple life. But hey, we don't have all the answers and we don't have controls on all that happens or still is to happen to us...I've learnt to have to accept that...in a very hard way!

But my come back is not to beg for your understanding, but rather to pick up where I left...and hopefully to never stop writing on my beloved blog.

Back to the essence of my post...

The past few months have been an extremely trying time for me. When I thought I have found answers to questions that had been boggling me for a long time, but I still felt a very painful void.

After accepting the calling to become igqirha, I honestly thought that all would be well and fine. I assumed I would gradually get my life back and regain my social status. As a result of not answering the calling sooner, my marriage brokedown, I lost my beautiful house in North Riding (a northern suburb in Johannesbag), left my position as a Senior Project Manager at a consulting company in Rosebank, lost an Audi A4, BMW, Citigolf...eish...the list is endless! I had to give-up my beautiful Labrador, Smirnoff!

When I did my first ritual of iSiphuthumo, hardly a week later, I received a call to attend an interview the following week. I accepted the offer, though the earnings would be much less than my previous salary, I was elated to get a job in the field of economic development in my hometown.

I assumed my life would slowly start getting back to normal. But, ALAS!...it was only the beginning of my troubles.

I was under igqirha uMama uMamNtande from kwaNothenga Location in Middledrift. Damn, she is a shrewd trainer! At the beginning I was excited that my ancestors had chosen igqirha that is well respected and as such is always needed to conduct rituals that only igqirha lomlambo can lead. It was exciting for me to pack every other Friday to join her and my spiritual sisters ezintlombeni. I would proudly put on my gear and smear my face with the white clay (imbola), and waltz around town looking for whatever items that would still be outstanding for the specific ritual. I had become a celebrity gqirha in my own little way. The ladies at the Kwantu Spar admired my confidence...I invested in beautiful izishweshwe from Durban and my white t-shirts would be brand names such as Lacoste, Guess, Dickies...hey wena! I would even walk barefeet sometimes (between you and me, I was a show-off shame).

On joining my spiritual family at entlombeni (the poor souls would have been at this home for the whole week because they are unemployed, and you can't miss intlombe without a valid reason), I would be welcomed with cheers as I would be bringing them izibiliboco from town. I kept secret stashes of sweets, chips, take-away food, etc. in my car. This was my own way of buying my comfort as they would help me with my chores in exchange for a few delicacies...tl tltl...

We would be expected to dance to the beat of the drum until midnight, sometimes until the sun came out! As initiates we were not allowed to sleep before amagqirha amakhulu! There would be so many chores, from grinding herbs to cooking for the whole cast of amagqirha.

As time passed, I began resenting izintlombe and feeling lazy to attend. But my biological mother would push me and because of her I persevered. My spiritual sisters began missing from izintlombe, at times, I would be the only initiate attending. I remember at the home-coming (Umgoduso), of our eldest spiritual sister, I was the only initiate attending. I had to attend to five senior amagqirha. As an initiate, your job is to wake up before everyone wakes up. The first four days we spent in the bush and I would have to make a fire andd fetch water from the river to make them tea, cook porridge, make brekfast, give them water to wash, prepare lunch and supper, wash their clothes, etc.! Also back at the homestead, I had to attend to their needs, all in all we were there for seven days! This is all happening during December! I only went back home on the 24th of December! Most of my friends had written me off the social scene.

There were many other izintlombe where I would be the only initiate attending. I would have to fetch MamNtande from her house with my car  and take her back. Even with all this commitment, it hurt to realise that she didn't appreciate my effort. She would be shouting at me in the presence of the various families we would be serving. Not once did she seem to have confidence in me by giving me the chance to do some of the things such as ukuhlwayelela, etc! When the other initiates decide to join us at izintlombe, she didn't find it difficult to engage in gossip about me. I began resenting my spiritual journey. There would be people coming to consult her regarding their various problems (ukuvumisa). It did not bother her that all her initiates were not good at ukuvumisa---we would always miss the point...tl tl tl. This was bothering me big time! I began asking myself questions about igqirha that my ancestors chose for me.

Then I had the priviledge of having a private conversaton with igqirha from Port Elizabeth who frequented izintlombe zethu. She taught me the process of ukuphahla and how this was an important communication tool with my ancestors. She seemed to have picked up our lack of the know-how on many aspects of ubugqirha. She told me that I could make my own mixture of izilawu at home so that ndiphehle ibhekile in the quest to finding answers from my ancestors. She told me that I needed to buy two tot-glasses that i would fill with gin and brandy at all times to encourage my ancestos' presence. She told me why I had to mix impepho with snuff. She told me to get red, blue, yellow and white candles to light and pray to the Lord almighty and ask him to intervene in my journey. She told me that in mrayesr to God and my ancestors, I could report igqirha lam if I felt she was misbehaving. I proceeded to do as advised and prepared a room that would be private for my prayer rituals.

Within a month, my dreams were much more clearer. I began hearing voices and sounds in my ears. I began having visions. I remember the first time ndivumisa and being on point, this family had come to consult about their son that had gone missing. Somehow I knew I was on the right track and I could feel it in my blood.

Then a few months later, the inevitable happened! The ancestors made their presence in me known in full view of my brothers. We had been sitting and fooling around in my hut, when suddenly I had a funny feeling. I felt I was not in control of my body and my emotions. I began laughing and cring at the same time! I tried to stop, but I could not. My brothers thought I was playing a funny joke on them, but hey, I was also surprised and scared. I was making funny sounds and started rolling on the floor. I was talking and they could noy hear what I was saying. My voice was deep. I kicked the door with so much powere, lying on my tummy! They called my mother. She didn't know what to say. I went into deep sleep afterwards.

When I woke up, I knew my life would never be the same again. I new it was time to find out about uMndawu as I suspected this had something to do with it.

I started remembering how we would laught at izangoma wearing read amahiya as my spiritual family. MamNtade had instilled in us that those are people who have fallen in the trap of eating umgubo (the powder mixture that causes amakhosi/izizwe to habitate in your body. Somehow, I had always felt that this notion was wrong as my very own Aunt had thwasad uMndawu and I was present when she woke up from her bed and was led by a dream to the house of the woman that was going to initiate her.

Over time I had done my research on the internet on Umndawu and IsiNguni. As a Facebooker, I am a member of about ten groups zamagqirha/abathandazeli. I have followed posts and comments that have helped to mould my own opinions ngoMndawu and IsiNguni.

My very own community is misled about uMndawu and IsiNguni. It is a general assumption that if you wear amahiya ---unamakhosi/izizwe.

The question was, am I willing to go against my immediate community's social belief system and be an outcast? I myself had pointed fingers at such people and had even spoken to some of them telling them how they were misled. In the past, to me, a real gqirha liphatha ishoba lenkomo, hhayi elenkonkoni! Damn, I had vowed that "NEVER" shall I be misled!

 On the 8th of May, I boarded a bus, enroute to Soweto to be initiated by Baba uJombigazi insizwa kaMtshali, kwiMpande iDamu La Mahlebo. I will never forget the day they beat drums for me in the process of ukukhuphula idlozi (ukugajeka) . Umnikazi came out first and introduced himself as Kholekile (my grandfather), then Mazizi ( my father) then Mphuphumi (my greatest grand father)! That day I knew....."this is it, ngiyinyanga and I don't owe anyone any excuse!".

Today I know what they mean when they say, "Never say never!"