Ndlovukazi - Queen

Chapter 11

Igazi, igazi eliningi kangaka! (Blood, so much blood). I am standing waist deep in the river, trying to wash my hands clean of the blood. The wind is blowing so viciously, that I feel myself swaying, struggling to stand steady in the rapids moving past me. I know better than to be standing in the middle of a river on such a windy day, but my mind seems to only be occupied by the sight of the blood on my hands.

My face is damp from tears, I cannot stop crying.... All I see is blood, and I just keep scrubbing. I suddenly feel someone's arms around me holding me upright. Pulling me out of the water and onto dry land. I am cold and wet but my body feels weightless and I can no longer feel my limbs, my vision gets blurred and I no longer hear the loud rustling of the trees, I cannot feel the cold breeze blowing past me; as I close my eyes in an attempt to regain my bearings, I hear wailing and then darkness...

It's all I can remember from the dream I woke up from this morning. Its bad enough I rarely have dreams but after everything Sindiswa told me, I fear it might not be coincidence. Not to mention the feeling of something like a rock sitting inside my chest, I don't know what it means but these dreams have to mean something. I sigh as I bring my focus back into the present.

Why did I want to become a healer again? I cannot help but wonder as I drink the bitter mixture the Nyanga has given me. It's dawn, and at sundown, I shall begin my final exam. The mixture is made of herbs that Nyanga says will cleanse my body and mind, it should help me focus.

We are at the top of the healers' hill, I hear the rushing waters of the river that separates the hill from the rest of the village, with another healer's hut is down below. Although there is a healers hut in the village, the people who are really sick are cared for far outside the village and the healers hill is where the healers plant the herbs that aren't native to our region, and where healers are initiated. I will be sleeping in a separate hut away from my family until my exam and initiation are completed. My family may visit me but I cannot visit them.

I feel the heat of the morning sun begin to warm the air around me, I try to concentrate on finishing the drink, as not to vomit before I drink it all. The Nyanga is dancing next to me, singing and clapping her hands, her feet move to the beat only she can hear, giving me courage to finish.

The cleansing ritual is the test before the test, it is said that to truly help those who are suffering, we must first look within and heal that which needs healing within. My ability to keep down this vile substance will determine whether I am worthy to continue with the next test...

I hold my breath as the last of the mixture enters my mouth. Ungaphalazi (do not vomit), I repeat to myself, until I can no longer hold my breath and then I gulp the last of the liquid and hold my breathe again. I breathe out slowly through my nose and fall to my knees on the cold, dew covered grass. I put down the calabash and closing my eyes, I begin to feel my body tingling from the effort I just exuded downing th mixture. Slowly I begin to sway to the rhythm of the song the Nyanga is dancing to. I hear her dancing around me as if in a trance, but I dare not open my eyes in fear, of vomiting too soon and although the bitter taste still lingers in my mouth, my stomach is just beginning to settle. This continues for awhile, I continue to take deep breathes in and out listening to voice, echo around us.

While I sway, I actually listen to the song she is singing. It sounds like praise songs to uNkulunkulu(God), giving thanks for the gift of healing and provision of herbs to heal. She repeats it as if it were a prayer and soon I join her, clapping to the rhythm of the song, my shoulders rise and fall in sync and softly sing along with her.

Eventually, I feel her hand on my shoulder as she stills my movements. I open my eyes to find her kneeling in front of me, with one hand on my shoulder and the other carrying a bowl of red clay. She gives it to me to hold and then curls her fingers into the clay, scooping up a handful she says, "vala amehlo" (close your eyes), I do as she instructs me and I soon feel her paint the clay on my face. As she paints my face from top to bottom, she prays for me, asking for strength and guidance and for favour for the coming day. Once she is done, she helps me up and I begin to dance with her, I mirror her movements and soon feel the rhythm of the beat she is dancing to.