SWAZILAND SOIRÉE
Where maidens sing and mountains dance
AT 4am in a nightclub, our little tour group is still dancing with some of the local women, who came over to make friends — quite bizarre, given that we are in Swaziland, a tiny nation known for its traditional and patriarchal culture.
The Pub & Grill, an Irish-style sports bar and restaurant in Ezulweni, doubles up as a dance club in the evenings. On my second Sibebe Lager, a local brew, I start to chat with a woman named Nolwazi Dlamini.
The surname means her family comes from one of the first Swazi, or Nguni clans, that originated in Southeast Africa. Under the leadership of the Dlamini kings, they settled first in Mozambique and later in what is today known as Swaziland. The Dlamini dynasty is enormous in this tiny country, which has only 1.25 million people.
The rain is pouring when we make our way back to the Happy Valley Hotel across the street. Our gracious tourguide, Michael Mabaso, helps some of the women across puddles.
In all, we spend five days in a minibus, crisscrossing a country roughly the size of Gauteng.
The time spent together leads to some heated debates about certain patriarchal traditions. Mabaso says it would be strange for him not to take a second wife — his first wife has no say in the matter. When I ask if his wife might take another husband, he looks at me as if I’ve had one Sibebe Lager too many.
The country is filled with fascinating landscapes. There is Sibebe Rock (yes, like the beer), a monolith just outside Mbabane. It is the secondlargest exposed granite pluton in the world, after Uluru in Australia.
Then there is Execution Rock, also known as Nyonyani, which means little bird. Those who were suspected of witchcraft would be prodded by the spears of Swazi warriors until they leapt from the granite peak — to fall hundreds of metres to their deaths, like a little bird falling out of its nest. Relatives were not allowed to collect the remains of their “bedeviled” loved ones, as this would bring further trouble to the families.
For brave visitors, there is a fourhour horse ride up the summit side of the rock, from where one can see Sheba’s Breast Mountain, with two pointy peaks supposedly resembling the assets of Queen Sheba.
The best viewpoint can be found at Shewula Mountain Camp, an ecocamp owned and developed by the local community. It’s run by two women, one of whom, Ntombikayise Magagula, is also the traditional healer to the local chief.
The camp is very basic, with rondavel huts and traditional food such as maize meal, morogo and braaied chicken. There is a bonfire and good company, but no electricity.
We arrive just before sunset and enjoy a glass of wine at the viewpoint over the Lebombo Mountains.
“On a clear day, one can see up to Maputo,” says Magagula.
She says the camp was born from the chief’s vision.
“He was dreaming about this place, dreaming that the people could start looking after themselves. He was looking out from [the view- point] and he saw the skies and the mountains and he knew we could do something with this.” The camp was the first community eco-tourism project in Swaziland and has been running for 16 years.
At the Mantenga Cultural Village, close to Execution Rock, my feminist-friendly heart endures another shock as the women on the tour are told they must wait for the men to enter the huts first and also exit first, as per Swazi culture.
Men and women sleep in separate areas and only the father is allowed in the “holy” cattle kraal, where he will smoke certain herbs that give him the courage to go out and potentially fight a leopard. This is also where he will commune with the ancestors. The direction of the smoke will indicate where the men and boys should head out to hunt — and hopefully avoid a leopard or two.
The village also hosts some traditional Swazi dancers. Dancing in Swaziland is common, not only as entertainment for tourists but also for local events — most notably the eight-day Reed Dance ceremony. Every August, virgin or childless women dance topless in front of the king so he can choose his next bride. Currently, King Mswati III has 14 wives.
We seek our thrills elsewhere — on a zip line. At the Malolotja Nature Reserve, we buckle up and get our helmets on for a canopy tour. As I am being hooked on from one line to another to fly across the treetops, my guide tells me he’s been doing this for six years. “I really love doing this — it makes me feel free,” he says. So, for a second, I let myself feel free and it is exhilarating.
Twenty minutes away by car, we find ourselves at the Phophonyane Falls Nature Reserve, where we sleep at the eco-lodge, whose traditional beehive huts have been transformed into mini luxury apartments. Refreshed, we tackle the steep hike to see the waterfalls. However, we are disappointed — the country is experiencing its worst drought in 104 years . At least it is a good workout for the glutes.
Although Swaziland is not known for its thriving industries, there is sugar cane and pine across the countryside. We also visit the Potholes, which are somewhat different from the ones we know in Johannesburg, since they are nat- ural rock formations and absolutely beautiful.
My mouth still waters over the Sunday lunch buffet we had at the Foresters Arms Hotel.
We end our visit in style at the Summerfield Luxury Resort, with a fine-dining experience and a minibar in the room — just in case.
As the saying goes, good things come in small packages. And Swaziland, as small as it is, has a lot of good things going for it. It deserves to have a song and dance made about it, whether that be at the annual Reed Dance or in a small Irish pub that turns into a hip nightclub. It’s up to you. — Prinsloo was a guest of Swaziland Tourism
The camp was born from the chief’s vision. “He was dreaming about this place, dreaming that the people could start looking after themselves. He was looking out from the viewpoint and he saw the skies and the mountains and he knew we could do something with this.”