Respect ubuNgoma to avoid life cul-de-sacs
City girl forgoes parties to fulfil her destiny
‘‘ I disrespected my then illunderstood gift
‘‘ All I knew was ndiyagula (I am sick) and I need help
Often, I find myself at the centre of conversations around ubuNgoma, my perception of its appropriate iterations and performances today.
By iterations and performances I mean how contemporary sangomas carry themselves, specifically in dress, talk, practice and the spaces they occupy.
I think this happens because it is difficult to miss that I am a sangoma because my beads and goat skin bracelets and anklets (inqwambu) are visible at all times. I wear beads around my neck symbolic of the varying hoops that I have galloped through in my journey.
Beads and the order in which you wear beads is not a haphazard exercise, it is intentional. This is why when you wear beads Gogo, funeka nje uyazi indaba yakho (you know your story) because if not, danger! danger! Danger Mntakabawo!
Walk with me...
When I first arrived at Mathiyane’s (my Xhosa shaman’s) home circa 2018, I was clueless about ubuNgoma.
At the time, I was inundated with what I then labelled as mild depression, anxiety resulting insomnia. All I knew was that ndiyagula (I am sick) and I need urgent help.
My first instinct wasn’t to seek traditional help. I had exhausted all biomedical options. Let me describe how I felt daily for about 18 months before I knew I had to see her. I felt like my stomach was physically eating itself away. I couldn’t keep food down. My stomach made a constant grumbling sound and it was always sore.
I couldn’t sleep for more than two hours a night and in that short sleep I’d have what felt like 50 dreams, which were all vivid as day. I literally dreaded sleep because I would dream way too much, and some of the dreams were scary and dark. The dreams were revelatory nonetheless. It is needless to say, ndandigowa (I was going through) the most.
Amid the chaos I had one dream that changed my entire understanding of my physiological symptoms. I dreamt I was with a woman nearly as short as I am. I was drenched in imbola emhlophe (burnt and pounded ochre mixed into a white paste), wearing white clothes, white beads, a white headwrap and barefoot.
In this dream I was at my maternal grandmother’s homestead in Lower Nqwara, Mqanduli in the Eastern Cape. There seemed to be a ceremony in my honour because my uncles and great-uncles were sitting Ebuhlanti. I walked up to them and I knelt in front of them.
They welcomed me with a bottle of gin and a goat tied to a tree stump. We beat drums and sang and as I was about to go into a trance, I woke abruptly as if someone had poured ice cold water on me in my sleep. I was sweaty, shaking and my heart was beating fast. In that moment I knew I had to seek traditional help. Shortly after that dream, I went home and my mother took me to see Mathiyane (who to my surprise turned out to be the short woman from my dream). I told her that I think I have a spiritual problem and that I need to
thwasa (initiation). We talked and I relayed the dream. She smiled and told me that my dream was indicative of my Mvuma Kufa ceremony and the people that needed to be involved. We did our first ceremony days after where she cleansed me and she put beads around my wrists, ankles, neck and waist (also known as
umsebenzi woqhina ithwasa). She also gave me isilawu (ibhudlu/gobongo), the foam of medicinal plants soaked in water, which completely settled my stomach and returned my sleep.
I was relieved. I went back to varsity.
Back at varsity, I felt fine. iDlozi had settled down and I thought I owned my life again. I remember my bestie, Asande, picking me up from the bus stop. I had left her with my house key (mainly so she could water my plant) and to my surprise she’d laid out an outfit for me.
She instructed me to shower and we went to groove. We loved to party! My life went back to normal; my dreams were stable and I was okay. I was partying a lot though, with my neck beads zesiXhosa (known as iCamagu) on, which I later learnt is a big no-no.
I was a city girl and nothing could stop me. I was a hot sangoma. I disrespected my then ill-understood gift as I treated it like a party trick. This continued until I had another dream (cue ominous music).
This time, I dreamt I was standing at the end of a long corridor with rooms on either side. In the dream, I was very apparently distressed and I was clearly seeking refuge. I ran through the corridor opening each door; each time I would find people partying, taking drugs and in compromising positions.
I slammed each door shut and moved along. I began to feel disheartened because I couldn’t find what I was looking for. The last door I opened, as I was about to give up, was a room full of amaGqirha, singing, dancing and beating drums.
I walked in and my outfit instantly changed and I was dressed like them. I felt like I belonged. I knew immediately that this dream was a message that I had to redirect my focus towards my spiritual gift.
I had to give up my life for the time being to fulfil my destiny. This dream also said to me that the reason I put my beads on misaligned with my current actions.
It was a gentle warning and reminder.
To you Gogo, wear your beads with intention. Respect your beads and all your spiritual regalia. Know your story. Know why you are doing this because when you don’t, you risk non-progress in your journey.
Your beads become an extended Heritage Day school project. Journey forward to avoid izinto ezingalunganga like treating your Dlozi as a party trick. Thwasa, get it done and then live your life.