HIS ROYAL BRIDE

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

[KULANI]

‘You are moving on to the next stage of your initiation’ The old woman who always appears in my dreams says to me. When I describe her to my father, he suspects that she is his great grandmother. The one who is said to have lived till 112 years of age. I have never been to this place before. She has been giving me a tour, feeding, and sprinkling me with things. The first time I discovered that I had a spiritual gift was when I blacked out and collapsed in a mall two months ago. It wasn’t the first time I had a blackout. When I opened my eyes, there was a woman looking over me. I concluded her to be a traditional healer from her beads and outfit. She was the one who took the most interest in me amongst that large crowd. She left me with a simple sentence. She told me to get a blue Njeti cloth that I will tie around my waist when I experience lower back pain or over my shoulders whenever they feel heavy.

I was taken back home and when I arrived, I told my dad everything. He said he wasn’t surprised. When I asked why, he said I was born with my amniotic sac still intact around me and that this was expected. When I asked to go see a traditional healer regarding this, he blatantly said no. His reasons were that if I am meant to consult, I will be shown in my dreams who I need to consult with because not all traditional healers will have my best interest at heart. I simply went and got the cloth. Two nights later, I was shown a concoction that resulted in lucid dreams, bright as day.

I wake up on top of a cold flat rock, in a white vest, black tights and my cloth around my waist. I am pale and dripping wet. I hear the sound of the water and I open my eyes. I have no idea if the sun is setting or rising. The headache and time disorientation is making my head spin. Where is this place? My heart starts racing. I begin trying to breathe and I remember where I was. They brought me here. They would never allow anything to happen to me. The last image I remember is getting swallowed by a monstrosity of a python. The trees surrounding this place are forest green, shrubby and healthy. There’s someone here. I cannot see them yet but I can feel that there’s someone here. I begin hearing footsteps and I wait. That lady, the lady from the mall. She appears with a smile, wearing a white dress with a cape and a matching doek. The spiritual belt made of wool around her waist has her body snatched. She looks like she’s in her good forties.

She extends her hand towards me and tells me to stand up. I do, with her help. I’m cold and I am trembling due to this fact.
‘You must be hungry. Let’s go get you something to eat’
My instincts assure that she’s harmless. I am an excellent reader of vibes. They never lie. I tell her where home is and she says I mustn’t worry. We get to her house and she gives me bread and milk. Not what I would voluntarily go for but I was taught never to be picky in other people’s houses. We go sit outside on reed mats. I start eating my breakfast.
‘How was home?’ she asks with a warm smile. Wait, she knows? I drink my milk.
‘You’ve been there?’
‘Not in the physical sense like you. I had to go to Swaziland to find my Gobela’ she explains.
‘Does that mean I’ll have to go too?’
She laughs. ‘No. We’re all different with different spiritual specs. You’re one of those people who don’t have to go to any initiation school. Your ancestors prefer to be hands on. That’s why they are thwasaring you themselves. Your initiation started the first time I saw you, through dreams. Your journey can never be the same as anybody else’s, hence we have prophets operating in churches, sangomas and the likes. We are all different parts of the huge body of God’
‘In other words, I am doing all of this by myself?’
She smiles. ‘No. You will have guidance along the way. They will send you people who are more experienced than you, or simply tell you these things themselves’
I am slowly losing my appetite. I was okay with the dreams and seeing things that nobody else can, but this thing of waking up in random, dangerous places? They need another modus operandi because this is not it. I burp and shock myself. I usually do but it’s mostly subtle. I am certain I heard the roar of a lion towards the end of the sound that just came out of me. She develops the widest of smile and bows her head and claps her palms thrice.
‘Ndauwe. Thokoza gogo’
I have to ask.
‘Why are most terms in Zulu in ancestral language?’
‘It’s not necessarily Zulu. Our great ancestors were predominantly Nguni so that’s where it comes from. A good example is your marital destiny. You are a Ngobeni bride. Those are Zulu people from Louisville that got assimilated into the Tsonga culture. oNdwandwe, oMkhatshwa, oNxumalo, unlike vaka Ngoveni who speak a slightly different but almost same type of Xitsonga. The Ngobe-Zithas are Shangaan if you trace them from way back. We are all connected, one way or the other’ she throws some maize to the chickens in front of us.
I laugh at my ignorance.
‘I have always thought there was a fault at Home Affairs or something, hence they’re written differently’
She sips on her water.
‘No. There’s different groups. Vatsonga va hambana’ (Tsonga people are different)
I nod.
‘I am sensing a lot of anxiety and worry from you. Don’t overthink this. This journey takes time’
Time? Have I not the reached the end? Was I not graduating this morning?’
‘There’s still more?’
She chuckles.
‘Way more. What are you were doing by far is getting acclimatized to uMndau, the marine ancestor. Your journey continues. What lies ahead of you is a bit tedious because you have what we call abalozi, which communicate by whistles or bird sounds. There’s usually an irritating ringing sound you get in your ear that sounds like a whistle. Once it’s there, it demands your focus and concentration, right?’
I nod. She seems passionate about all of this.
‘These are not your direct ancestors, same as uMndau. Hence you see this type of ancestor through mermaids and white people. They are spirits that died by the mountains and rivers, without a place they can call their own. This whistling sound you hear is what they used to communicate back then – imitating the sounds of birds to encrypt their messages from enemies. They are the type to tell you a direct message you will hear in your ear as if someone is verbally saying something, sitting next to you. You don’t have to use your imagination with them’
‘But, that’s mostly how I see things, with my imagination?’
‘You need to understand that you don’t receive messages from one type of ancestor or spirit. We walk with a crowd, which is sometimes a disadvantage because they can clash. When elephants fight, it’s the grass that suffers’
To say I am amazed would be a great understatement.
‘How do I learn their bird or whistle language then?’
‘Forget about it. They will come to you and teach you everything themselves. They are not like uMndau. Their training can take a very long time. There’s a white bird that likes to visit you. That’s not just a bird’ she informs and stands up. ‘In due time, you will understand what it’s actually saying to you. Let me go wake this child up so he can drive you home’ she beams as she speaks. I am still taken aback. I was never mindful of that particular bird.