‘What do you mean?’ I lean forward with curiosity.
‘All will be revealed in due course, my child; I’m too forward and speaking out of turn. I should let you discover the secrets of your heart.’ She keeps me in suspense.
‘But you’ve whet my appetite already,’ I protest.
‘Look deep within; your greatest answers lie deep in the well of your soul sphere.’
A stony silence follows thereafter.
Nomkhubulwana lights impepho and kneels, overlooking the gigantic cliff, she lifts her hands high above her head and amazing grace exudes from her being. I follow her lead.
‘Qamata!’ The sound of her voice ricochets in the mountain.
‘Mvelinqangi!’
‘Oh great Nkulunkulu, please hear me almighty; the one who is and ever was.’ Her voice echoes in the mountain gorge again and again.
She takes a deep breath before letting the feelings deep within fly with the wind. She prays loudly: ‘Oh wandering souls of the land bounded with the wind, surfing the furthest dreams; oh passionate hearts of the seas, welcoming of all the streams in your eloquent stride that breathes the very life; oh spirit of all spirits hidden behind the ten gates of eternity with all the knowing of the known world; fly away with thee to the seven corners of time and reveal thee to thy self; strip all the human fallibility and unmask the naked beauty that resides deep in all ages; unbound the earthly form that stands as obstacle to all purity; burn thy anxiety in the scorching flames of forever-night that know no end; sculpt a philosopher’s stone with this very heart and bring upon a sage with crystallised purpose; fashion wings to thy soul and dare it to fly a pathless journey; swallow thee you blinding light; swallow thee you boundless love. Amen.’
Tears fall down the lines of her wizened face. Her eyes tell many stories. I am sensitive to the deeper truth she’s expressing.
‘My time is nigh, this is the moment of alchemy and the gods are in cahoots; I cannot overstay my welcome.’ She shares the deeper truth.
She looks at me with eyes that hypnotise and penetrate my soul.
‘My child, the world is turning; the seasons are changing. The volcanoes are erupting; the quakes are rumbling. The rains are flooding; the thundering storms roar with anger. The natural kingdom groans in pangs. The world of spirits speaks profoundly. The council of high spirits from the inexplicable world of paramount earth is becoming anxious. Messages of warning are communicated every so often but fall on deaf ears. The children of the star are sent to pass messages from beyond and their messages are met with ridicule at times and indifference most of the time.’
My heart gets fuller with a muddle of emotions and the breath dances into a different rhythm. Stories of yore are awakened. There’s much more to discover; surrender is necessary.
‘Be the light, my child; let your spirit be felt in its purest,’ she says to me and her eyes once again bore into my soul.
‘Open your heart bare and let the divine inspire; bow in all humbleness.’ She feeds me the deep passion in her spirit.
‘I will continue to walk by your side; we journey this road together and are bound by something deeper than both of us. Our history is written in the stars,’ she assures me.
I listen attentively with the ears of my soul. Nomkhubulwana divulges the knowledge of time past and greater truths from beyond. She expresses her readiness to journey to higher planes and prepares me for my journey. She’s bare and open, sharing for the better. She delivers yet another sermon for the soul.
‘Awaken your god-given spirit my child; free your mind from the world of form and become a partner in creation by refining the original spirit. Focus within and experience the highest kingdoms, the heaven of the heart and the mysterious openings to ancestral realms. By focusing within, the energies of the body increase and long enough the light crystallises, thus achieving spiritual illumination. Persist with inward focus and the fire of spirit will be ignited and thus sagehood will be bestowed by the higher forces; it is through pure effort of concentration that the spirit alchemises and you’ll arrive at the effortless. When you preserve the original spirit, you will experience life outside the duality of positive and negative and therefore transcend the “world”.
‘Let not the physical actuality grab your absolute focus as, in doing so, there’ll be running unguarded leakage of original spirit. Always remember that the light is within and the absolute unified energy of celestial immortals resides in the deepest depths of the soul sphere. You are the master of your destiny; all the predestined dreams await for you to put much more emotion in them to make them dense and they shall appear in your apparent reality.’
The sermon of the transcendent message speaks directly with my original self. I feel lightness in being. The channels to the deeper self are wide open as the message moves from shallow to deep and from crude to fine. Heavy dark clouds gather in the distance and move above the majestic mountain; forked lightning flashes and big raindrops begin to fall. We seek refuge in a cave and listen to the mighty roar of the heavens in exhibition of divine power. The thunderstorm doesn’t last long; the rainbow paints the horizon with magical undertones. We slowly make our way down the slopes on our journey back home.
The red soil breathes new life as the butterflies flaunt refreshing innocence.
Thirteen
THE SUN RISES EAGERLY and the birds sing beautifully, praising the dawn of the new day. The recent heavy rains have thoroughly nourished the maize fields and filled up the rivers. Spring has sprung and the natural kingdom blossoms in absolute splendour. We sit lazily in the big hut listening to Mama’s tales about the ‘good old golden days’ while doing beadwork.
Mama comes from a long ancestry of traditional healers and noble medicine men. She has been taught the ways of the forefathers and foremothers on how to relate and heal the mind, body and spirit. She tells us that this is not the life that she chose but rather the life that chose her. She knows a lot about plants and their healing powers and says that from the African spiritual perspective we don’t only relate to the genetic material of the plants but also their consciousness and spirit.
I’ve observed that when she consults with people she goes beyond the physical body and heals the energy field of the individual by balancing their vibrations. Sometimes she burns impepho, sage or other ritual incense to alter consciousness and energy to calm the physical body of the individual and at times she uses medicine that doesn’t talk directly to the physical ailment but rather shocks the sense of taste, and therefore the psyche, and this has an effect in altering consciousness which then heals the body holistically. At times I’ve seen her use detoxification techniques to clear density in the physical body by steaming patients with certain herbs or giving them medicine to purge their bowels, rid phlegm in their chest and any unwanted waste that brings about blockage in their physical system. She puts prominence in the spiritual perspective though and treats the physical focus as secondary reality. She always tells her patients not to overemphasise their physical focus as that may be limiting; she says when one becomes dense like that, the extraterrestrial vision or existence is cut off and one then misses the bulk of the multilayered reality and god-self.
A middle-aged woman with a young girl enters the hut. Zimasa offers them a reed mat to sit on; their demeanour exudes humility but the woman’s eyes give away her troubled soul and the girl’s eyes looked dazed as if in another world.
‘Camagu,’ Mama greets the visitors.
‘Camagu Makhosi,’ the mystified woman acknowledges the greeting.
‘How are you?’ Mama asks about their well-being.
‘If all was well we’d be resting at home, Makhosi; we came here seeking your help,’ says the woman with a heavy tone.
Mama lights impepho and puts it in front of her. She then lights a candle and asks the visitors to move closer to her at the north end of the room next to her altar.
‘My child has been acting queerly for a while, Makhosi. She has become a
wanderer and sometimes she leaves the homestead without notice and when we search for her we often find her on the banks of the Mthonyama River.’ The woman shares her troubles.
‘When we ask her why she’s there she says an old woman in her dream told her to meet her there and when we ask the whereabouts of this woman she points to an empty space; she sees her but we can’t. She has described the features of the old woman and the elders of the family are convinced that it’s her great-grandmother.’ The woman breathes heavily.
‘When she is at home, she prefers to sleep with the goats in the shed. She also tells us about voices she hears that want her absolute attention. She hasn’t been eating much lately and is becoming thin as a result,’ says the mother in distress.
The young girl’s eyes look disorientated. There are many like her who have been brought by their concerned families because of the perceived anomaly in their behaviour, those who see and feel ‘things’ that are not apparent in the physical actuality. Mama usually diagnoses with ease when there is a spiritual crisis that needs to be guided with absolute care.
Mama asks the young girl to lean forward and inhale the smoke of the everlasting plant. The girl inhales and coughs a few times. Mama sings a song and Zimasa grabs a drum hanging on the wall. Aunt Nontsebenzo and I follow suit, clapping and singing along to the haunting tune. Mama picks up her charmed cow-tail whisk from next to her and whips the air; she circles the hut in a rhythmic dance. The spirits rise with song and dance. Mama asks the girl to stand up and dance with her. The girl obliges and dances awkwardly. The booming drum talks with the matters of the heart. The girl suddenly throws herself on the floor and cries uncontrollably. She kicks and screams as the song is deliriously chanted. Mama takes the impepho and hovers the smoke closer to her nostrils. Mama repeatedly taps the girl lightly on her back and calls on the girl’s ancestors to visit. The girl calms down a bit and Mama starts addressing her mother.
‘Your child has a calling, ubizo; it’s a solid yearning for a deep connection that transcends the apparent reality into the celestial realm. Rituals need to be done to aid the birth of the deeper self and allow the emerging thwasa to move out of the distress and accept the calling wholeheartedly by cooperating with ancestors in the healing work they want to express. There have been amathwasa who have stayed with us for some time in order to be trained as traditional healers.
‘Your child is reaching out to higher paradigms, the spiritual realm of those of old. The suspect behaviour she has been exhibiting is an emergency call to be tuned to higher planes of the old wise ones from beyond. The ancestors use sensitive souls like her in an attempt to convey messages they want communicated to the land of the walking dead. The call is absolute and she has to be guided with care or imbalances may occur and sick energy may haunt her soul and psyche until such time that she honours the call from those of yesteryear.’
Mama takes her duty as a healer very seriously. She sees it as her most important calling to assist those who are ready to break through to the ancestral realm.
‘Your daughter has been chosen as a medium by higher spirits to pass messages from the spirit realm to those who walk the unforgiving terrain and to all the troubled souls of the tribes. The old wise one that appears in her dreams and calls her to the river is an ancestral spirit that is rising and reaching out to her and the whole clan at large. She is appearing in her dreams to form a bond with your child so she can use her for spiritual ends.’ Stillness fills the moment.
‘The hallucinations and mind disturbances that you have observed are as a result of the ancestral spirit demanding to be heard; your daughter’s longing for the connection with ancestral spirits has been unconscious but the ancestors have continued bombarding her with messages trusting that her sensitivity would finally make her yield to their call. It’s a good thing that you came now because further spiritual imbalances would have occurred and if she isn’t assisted in merging with the spirit of the old wise one that appears in her dream, she might suffer a psychotic breakdown and further behavioural disorders as the result of the fact that two obviously irreconcilable spirits have merged in one spectrum.’
‘Vumani Bo?’ Mama chants, asking if we agree with the divination.
‘Siyavuma!’ We all concur in a chorus.
‘Vumani Bo?’
‘Siyavuma!’
Mama clears her throat and makes grunting sounds. She whips the air with her cow-tail whisk. She hovers her nostrils above the burning impepho and says, ‘Ignorance to the emergence of the ancestral spirit will create problems for your daughter and your family. The existence of the psychic phenomena cannot be thwarted forever as those from beyond will have the final say.’ Mama delivers the message of caution.
‘The ancestral spirit sees something striking and significant in your daughter, and thus trusts her ability to fulfil the calling. The old wise ones are drawn to those who have more awareness outside the physical focus and are not completely desensitised. Their sensitivity can be viewed as a precursor for the calling.’
‘Can we plead with the ancestors to let my child be and lead a normal life?’ asks the mother of the child with anguish in her popping eyes.
‘As I said earlier, the messages cannot be ignored forever, the ancestral spirit might attempt to get the attention of other members of the family until someone responds to the call wholeheartedly. The bombardment of messages from beyond will be sustained until your daughter listens and if she continues to refuse, she will become unstable. The best cure is to say “yes” to the calling unreservedly. Once an ancestral spirit has identified someone to fulfil a purpose, the individual can run but cannot hide from the all-seeing of old.’ Mama shares the naked truth.
‘What needs to be done, Makhosi?’ the mother of the child asks with a heavy voice.
‘Traditional ceremonies need to be done to aid her in this calling. The rituals will open a relationship between her and the ancestors and reveal deeper messages contained by those of old. We’ll have to do an initiation ceremony for her to legitimately honour the calling. She will then become a thwasa and observe the strict code of conduct in her journey to transcend the world of form into the world of the spirits. My role is to merge the spirit of your daughter with old wise ones and discover the identity of the spirit that’s holding her absolute attention and wanting to be born again through her.’
The woman nods her head in agreement.
‘Spirits usually associate with the natural kingdom, especially the ocean, rivers, mountains, caves or forests and, in your daughter’s case, the ancestral spirit visits her in the guise of the spirit of Mthonyama River. She will be drawn to other natural splendours and find healing and calmness as a result.’ Mama reveals the truth in the meaning.
‘It will be necessary to go to the Mthonyama River to do a ritual ceremony there in order to merge your daughter’s spirit with the spirit of the river to gain the power needed for development to higher planes. The spirit of the old wise one who is in the guise of the river will give guidance as to how to best fulfil the spiritual quest. We will slaughter a chicken as a sacrifice, baptise your daughter in the river, and ask the high spirits to journey with us on this road less travelled.’ Mama paints the road ahead.
‘It is my duty to assist your daughter to reconcile the energies of both worlds to enable her to serve as a bridge between the two realities and become a sangoma; healing the many across the land with knowledge gained from time immemorial.’
‘Vumani Bo?’
‘Siyavuma!’
The mother of the child swallows hard and takes a deep breath; she looks at Mama with unknowing eyes and says, ‘I will relay all that you have told me to the elders of the family. I don’t think there’ll be an obstacle in allowing her to be initiated; but what I do need clarity on is what you will need from the family to do the initiation ceremony?’ the mother asks.
‘In order for me to start the healing process, you will have to appease the ancestors with a goat and that wi
ll be a symbol of the working relationship and connection between our ancestors. You will also need to bring three cocks for the ceremony; one should be red-feathered, one white and one grey. We will also need candles for the evening ceremony and maize to make fermented sorghum beer.’ Mama lists the priorities to aid the initiation.
‘You will have to also bring samp and beans to cook umgqusho to feed those in attendance and finely ground maize for porridge. The head of your clan and elders must come to bestow blessings on your daughter as she takes the passage to those that have gone long before her. It is also important to be sensitive to the higher spirit guides and listen to their intentions as they are taking the lead in this journey.’ Mama imparts another pearl of wisdom.
‘There are a few rituals and ceremonies to be observed at different stages of this journey but I will have to limit what I say to you so as not to confuse you. That’s all I will tell you for now; relay your experience here to the members of your family and the spirits will guide you on what to do next.’
‘Camagu.’ The woman expresses her gratitude.
‘Chosi,’ Mama responds in acknowledgement.
The woman and her daughter leave the homestead with an air of wonder and resignation to the unknown.
Fourteen
IT’S BEEN AN UNUSUAL DAY indeed. The sun rose hesitantly from behind the distant mountains. The morning has been uninspiring. Even the birds didn’t sing lively tunes to welcome the new day. The wind is sluggish and humid. There’s reserved grief that is lingering. News of Nomkhubulwana’s ‘death’ has spread. She was an unconventional woman to many but all knew the wisdom she possessed and she was respected the land over.
The confidence in my stride is suspended; there’s a big lump in my throat that refuses to go. Nomkhubulwana’s passing to the land beyond reminds me yet again that we are visitors here; our mission in the land of the walking dead comes to an end at some point. Life is a cycle of existence, we are born to die and we die to be born again, yet my heart is heavy with grief that knows no end. Nomkhubulwana’s departure among us mere mortals seems sudden.
Nwelezelanga: The Star Child Page 7
