‘Oh Somandla, I humble myself to you. Please help me regain my strength. Relieve me from this nightmare, oh great Nkulunkulu. You are the lord of miracles and I ask for one this very moment. Give vigour to my joints and breathe your spirit of power in my entire body.’
I project my heart of hearts to the all-knowing one and receive all the blessings. I pray to Qamata asking for guidance. I ask the high one to fill my body with vitality so I can fulfil my last earthly wish. I believe in the magic of miracles; believing is reality and reality is existence. I pray for the healing hand of the almighty to sprinkle the magic of life back into me. I beg the nine gods of the nine heavens to come to my aid. The gates of eternity are flung open and the prayers are honoured.
Eighteen
DEATH KNOCKS AT THE door demanding to be let in; the gnawing knowledge that the end of the journey is nigh fills my heart with sadness. It is not the fear of death nor my clinging to the physical actuality that has bred apprehension in my mortal self but rather the emotional turmoil that I feel is sucking the very life from my biological mother’s heart. The ominous feelings make her unsettled and unready to let go of past misdemeanours. My heart yearns to release her from the bondage of guilt and let her know that all is well in my soul and I forgave her before I was born.
I pray to the lord of lords deep in the ten gates of eternity with deep emotions. I summon the all-knowing Qamata to hear me. I appeal to the lesser gods of the nine heavens in the gateway of eternity to plead on my behalf. I pray to the high one to wake me up from the deep slumber. I ask for strength to go and search for my mother.
‘Oh Mvelinqangi, the shining light in all the darkness; oh Sonini-nanini, knower of great truths from beyond; I humble myself to your might and wisdom, oh all-knowing one,’ I plead passionately.
‘Allow me to relieve the heavy load and burden my mother has had to carry ever since I was born, oh Somandla.’ I express the feelings deep within.
‘Please hear me, great Nkulunkulu. Please fill my body with strength so I can look for her.’ I request divine intervention.
‘Show me where she is, oh almighty Qamata.’ I bow in all humbleness.
We are presented with challenges in order to grow. Pain visits us when the trial is beyond our comprehension. The hidden wisdom is only revealed once we rise above the level of the paradox and therefore attain a higher state of self.
I reach for my mother in the faraway spheres of pure dreams, flowing with the impartial winds searching even the forbidden territories in the unknown world. I surf the tide of time to all of its seven corners and reach the clouds above and they reveal untold secrets that bring calm to my spirit. Forever and eternity stare in awe at my deep passion to see my mother and all is granted.
I see my mother; I feel her heavy heart and her hopelessness evokes tears in my soul. I see her ready to jump off the mighty cliff to her death. I shout out, ‘Oh mother of my flesh and blood. Oh mother of my creation, through the passage of your womb into this world I came and your mission was fulfilled.’ She melts my heart.
‘You served your destiny in that respect and my heart will be forever filled with gratitude that knows no end. Oh daughter of the soil, I am reaching out to tell you that all is well. Do not invite death for what you think is an unfulfilled purpose. We were both given mysterious challenges to learn in life and to realise more of the self. The wise ones say that no soul remains forever ignorant and we should rise to that reality.’
The message travels far and wide and into her paining heart.
Tears ran down her face and hopelessness engulfed her spirit. She stood on the edge of the cliff ready to will death to her tortured self. Nokwakha saw no reason to live another day on the unforgiving earth. The seasons had long lost their fascination. All she wanted was to die and get away from the misery that followed her like a shadow. She looked up at the horizon and all she saw was a desert of lost hope. The natural kingdom depressed her. The birds made irritating sounds and the singing of crickets irked her profusely. She looked down the cliff and could see her dying moment playing out before her. A voice of reason whispered to her soul and said, ‘Death will not bring you eternal resting peace.’ The voice echoed in the deep corridors of her being.
‘You may rest for a while after the perceived “death” however, you will have to face up to yourself and those abilities that you did not use.’ Silence swallows the voice into the unmanifested.
She closed her eyes tightly, summoning all the courage to jump. She edged closer to her demise but the moment was interrupted by a deep and profound plea from an unknown voice. She heard it passionately begging her not to jump and the voice seemed to be echoing from the very mountain gorge. She didn’t know if she was hallucinating but she was suddenly overwhelmed with fear and stepped back from the edge of the cliff. The pleading voice kept reverberating from deep within. She was mystified but the yearning to see the growth of the seed that was planted in her garden overwhelmed her. The changing winds whistled messages from the faraway lands; she trusted the unknown and obliged to the calling.
Water.
‘Water,’ I ask, to relieve my scratchy throat.
‘My child!’ Mama exclaims.
I wake up from my paralysis through the divine intervention of the all-knowing one. The almighty Qamata heeded my plea and granted me the chance to fulfil my heart’s desire.
‘My child!’ Mama cries out again.
‘Water.’
‘Zimasa! Get some water! Quickly!’
Zimasa races out to the hut where meals are prepared and comes back with water. I gulp it down.
‘All hail to you, oh all-knowing Qamata.’ Mama gives due praises. ‘We bow to you as these wretched mortals, oh Mvelinqangi.’
There is an air of relief circling the room. Mama and Aunt Nontsebenzo rejoice and ululate, thanking those of yore for obliging their prayers.
‘How are you feeling, my child?’ Mama enquires. ‘Do you want some more water?’
‘No thank you; I’m quenched, Mama,’ I respond.
‘How are you feeling Nkwenkwezi?’ Mama asks yet again.
‘I feel rested, Mama.’
‘You have been in a deep sleep for quite some time, my child, and we were not sure when you would wake up from your “dream”.’ Mama fills me in on the episodes in the land of the walking dead.
Everyone looks at me with a touch of curiosity in their eyes. Aunt Nontsebenzo stares at me without saying a word; she seems flabbergasted by the turn of events. Zimasa keeps her distance and observes from the sidelines.
‘Do you know how long you’ve been asleep, Nkwenkwezi?’ Mama asks.
‘I wasn’t really asleep Mama; I was very much awake in my sleep.’
‘What do you mean, my child?’ Mama asks with deep interest.
‘I travelled to different worlds, Mama. I saw future histories and listened to the stories of past.’ I share my journey with her.
‘I had a vision, Mama. I saw my biological mother and I recognised her instantly. She was full of anguish and is reaching out to me. She is yearning to see me; I have to meet her Mama.’ I plead with heaviness in my voice.
‘But you are not strong enough, Nwelezelanga.’ Mama states the obvious with deep concern. ‘And where are you going to meet her anyway?’ She is perplexed by my intentions.
‘The spirits tell me to go to the Mthonyama River. I have to trust that all will be revealed in due course. Time is not mine, Mama. I’ve been given this moment to fulfil the message from my dream. There are no certainties at all. I have to trust and honour my instinct. The wise ones usually say that there is knowing in the knowing that one doesn’t know. I have to trust what can’t be seen. I have to trust the feeling, Mama.’
Silence falls after my speech and speaks notorious riddles that turns the heart into knots.
Nineteen
I GO TO THE MYSTERIOUS Mthonyama River the following day. The day is one of glorious splendour and the birds sing songs of enchantment with en
thusiasm. I float in and out of daydreams. I walk up and down the red hills of the land towards the Mojaji mountain. My heart pulsates with the rhythm of my stride. I pass grazing cows, goats and sheep. The sun beats unmercifully but it doesn’t distract me from my quest. I reach the river at high noon. I sit on top of a big oval rock that rises above the lush vegetation under a big oak tree. The breeze strokes me gently as I sit under the all-watching heavens. The echo of the humming river travels with the wind and bathes the surrounds with mystical suggestions. The mood is perfect. Butterflies show off their purity and crickets chirp perfect melodies to the divine orchestra.
At first I thought I was high in a dream when I sensed the mood in the air change. While fluctuating between the world of form and daydreams, I hear a bristling sound in the long grass. My heart pounds as if it wants to burst out of my chest as I suspect a creature of the wild is on its way to attack me. I stand erect on top of the rock, anticipating the worst. I hold my knobkerrie high in my left hand but courage has long deserted me. I tremble with fear as the sound in the grass gets closer.
‘Go away!’ I shout.
The bristling movement continues my way.
‘Go away you dragon of day.’ I try to summon courage deep from the depths of my being but it seems so elusive.
The face of a woman appears. She looks at me with affectionate eyes full of warmth. Her watery eyes glaze as the sun basks the day, then tears fall from her round moon face. We’re locked in each other’s gaze and time seems to evaporate in that moment. A part of me knows her intimately and I was wandering beyond space and time to connect with the feeling. It is coming back to me with a sudden rush when she says, ‘Is that you, my child?’ The question bursts out of her.
‘Mama,’ I blurt out immediately as all connection to the woman in front of me is revealed.
She looks at me as if I am a lucky omen that has fallen from the blue heavens above. I burst into tears for all kingdoms to hear me and shower me with all their mercy. She looks at me and talks in silence, asking the riddles in her heart to be untangled. I jump off the rock and move towards her with a beaming smile on my face. She comes towards me with relief written all over her oval face. We fall into each other’s embrace and I feel all the burdens lift off our shoulders and release us to a world of pure dreams.
‘Forgive me my child for I have sinned; how can I justify my existence for what I did?’ Guilt and excitement fill her heart. ‘I deserve the harshest punishment for my evil deed.’
‘I forgave Mama a long time ago. Let’s not dwell on the past for the present is a gift.’ I’m overwhelmed by her grace.
‘I am grateful for this moment; glory to the all-knowing Qamata.’ Mama sings praises to the divine one. ‘The guilt exhausted me my child; I was swallowed into a rabbit hole. There was no more light in my days; a heavy dark cloud followed me everywhere I went and life exhausted me.’ She opens her heart bare. ‘I wished the earth would open up and swallow me so that the guilt could be forever buried deep in the belly of the ageless soil.’
Everything happens for a reason within the grand design of the natural splendour; we live and we learn and precious experience we earn.
We make our way back home holding hands. The conversation flows as we share our earthly existences. I tell her the story of my life and she shares the times of her hard living. I see a lot of me in her. We connect deeper in silence. I feel my strength waning and I become weaker with every step. The beating sun is making it worse. I don’t express my discomfort to Mama. It is becoming evident that our reunion is actually our separation. Absolute truth reveals the beginning of the end; the end of this journey at least. My truth calls beyond the borders of this lifetime.
We reach the homestead and go into the big hut where everyone is sitting. Greetings are exchanged and I take the pleasure of introducing everyone to each other. Zimasa goes to make tea.
‘Light impepho, Nwelezelanga,’ says Mama as she sits on a reed mat next to her altar.
I stand up to take the impepho to the north end of the hut. I feel weak and dizzy; I faint and am plunged into the world of pure dreams.
Twenty
I SEE THE LIGHT. It is calling and calling. I’ve penetrated the halo. I’m becoming one with it. I’m slowly transforming; gearing for transcendence. Time is not mine. The ultimate god has already spoken and the lesser gods rejoice for the arrival of one of the children of the star. A sense of freedom and ecstasy fills my spirit as the life force drains out of my body. The purpose has been served. ‘Death’ is knocking, ready to transport me to higher planes. We die in order to grow in another reality. There is no point when the spirit vanishes. Life is a state of becoming and ‘death’ is part of the process of becoming. Both the form and the formless are states of aliveness but in varying degrees. My truth lies beyond the borders of this lifetime and the time to rise to that realisation has come.
The gateway to the land of origins has opened up. I’ll have to journey through the blinding colourless light of emptiness to the land beyond. The children of the star wait at the gates of eternity, anticipating the return of one of their own. I leave behind heavy hearts. I wish I could dry the tears from their eyes. Absolute truth will eventually put their paining hearts at ease. Revelations will come articulating that the movement of time alchemises even the deepest suffering. My moment is nigh. The land of spirit calls with a definite voice; mine is to honour the command of the high one. My life flashes before my eyes in a moment that seems to last a lifetime of its own. I learn from all my immediate life events wholeheartedly. It’s another opportunity for spiritual realisation; it is death of all illusion. My spirit reaches for the clouds in ascension to the realm of origins. Suddenly, I’m aware of all the truths that were concealed. The identification with time structures collapses and loses its fascination. I plant feelings of calm and understanding in all those I leave behind; the message is communicated in the deeper terrains of their subconscious. I summon all the strength to leave a message for their suffering hearts.
‘Don’t cry when I die as I will already be born again;
Celebrate, for there is birth within my death;
I came for a while and was rather pressed for time;
I came to love and to pass a message from beyond;
I promised not to stay a while longer;
I begged for more time in the distance yonder;
I flew too close to the sun and indulged in the exotic orgy of earthly desires;
Through the fires, I transcend, illuminate, giving birth to true self;
The circle continues bringing wonder to itself;
I want to fly really;
Cross the oceans with the birds of a feather;
Merge with the divine star and claim my worth in the land of origins;
And be reminded what it’s like to be completely spirit.’
I slowly let go of the physical focus. Inside us lies a radiance, a most magnificent presence and it is this inner essence that we all justly desire and seek union with.
The last ounce of energy leaves the body; I’m gone already.
Okumhlophe kuwe.
Acknowledgements
There are many people who have sprinkled good fortune my way. There are those who were kind enough to be the bridge in order for this dream to be realised. I am grateful. I am humbled. Enkosi kakhulu, kakhulu. This journey has been a great teacher. I bow. Camagu!
Nwelezelanga: The Star Child Page 10
