A glimpse of my Heritage

The kuteka (above pictures)

The Kuteka ritual is part of the Swazi wedding ceremony often performed prior to the Lobola (bridal price)
ritual by the people of Swaziland. The above pictures depict a section of the ceremony.
More is to come. The blog or category( will decide soon enough) will describe Southern African tribes and nations of the Nguni People and other various peoples found in my part the Earth.
Bare with me as I collect pictures…I hope they all be original and clear.

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AmaZulu-The people of Heaven

Ama-Zulu,People of The Heavens are a
Nguni people found mostly in KwaZulu-
Natal,South Eastern Africa.You may
have speckles of them in Zimbabwe and
in modern day Mozambique.
Zulus are quite the proudest and most
known people of all the Nguni.Unlike
the Swazi their toungue is much more
fluid and easier on the Ds(as is
American English).This makes them-I
think-a lot more eloquent speakers
(believe me,true Swazi toungue is quite
noble).They have lost most of their
tradition and customs due to the trying
times they have experienced over the
years.One such is the Rule of King
Shaka.He abadoned-for example-male
circumcision,because it hinderd with his
regiments performance in battle.
I am not sure how the other customs
went away but Im certain that
Umhlanga and Ukweshwama(Incwala-
Ritual of the first fruit) disapeard
becuase of constant war through the
ages.I would not be fair if I do not
mention the effects of Apartheid(segre
gation) as it profoundly forced the Zulu
to be rid of trational clothing.Many
would rather make skirty trousers e.t.c
to replace the need for Animal skins.To
my dismay:you may also notice that at
this moment we Nguni are not losing
good tradition but our toungues
too.English is slowly but surely taking
over as king.
I hope to soon write more on this
people.Comment is welcome.

My pink tinted glasses

Pink tinted glasses

They are a marvel

Wear

Through them every summer’s

Heavenly inspired bliss

The sun scorches you

Yet its caress is warm.

As gentle as is a mother’s

Touch.

Beautiful scenery

Wonderful

There’s no variety here

No need for it

If in existence

Possibility’s the worst

Name a child could have.

Advise

Should we have it

Is it of any importance

Mother sister brother

I have all these in one pot;

Dare not remove

My pink tinted glasses

They are a marvel to wear.

Sent from Windows Mail

Things you can’t have; Window shopping love

I have never

Never had the chance

Of being given

A chance

To love

I have fallen in love

But have never swam in it.

I have seen the dynamics

Yes

But have never ever

Tasted it;

Damn me!

I’ve no such experience.

There’s a difference,

Books, videos and love stories only

Describe it

All of it;

The pains

The pangs

The aches and the groans

I wana feel

They are all there

But not for me;

I art only a window shopper.

My Land

They took my land dear me

They came with nothing

But bags pangas

And Savannah clothing;

They wore nothing but

Khaki clothes and

Cowboy sun hats,

Strapped their blossom and

Waists in iron and

Strong leather;

Rendering themselves breathless.

Them stilettoes:

They poked my land

Leaving it gapping for life,

In pain and sorrow,

The oxen;

Drawn to my land by

My women

To drain me of my waters

And leave me dry and sad;

Livid

Their chicken

They scratched my land bare

Of every green sprout

This my land they sucked

Dry and now leave it

Childless, as white as are

These their Dova beaches sands

Them parasites.

They striped my land naked

And childless

As naked as are these, their naked

Foreign eyes sunk in nothing

But spiritual darkness

Void of all else

But sorrows and pains

From

My mother’s heaving black chest.

These my own parasites

Born and raised not by foreign hands

But this my own.

A prayer from such and such concerning such and such

God…
If ever such was
Ever so such and such I
Would once more
Do such and such again

I tell you this
My heart was always
Yours.
Be it you hurt this
My heart
I dare not to care,

I gave it to you.
I gave you my I.

Stitch by stitch.
You wove your way into my
Heart.
Your path is there,
Nothing more can be done.
You simpley my being
Marriage is an understatement.
This stands beyond me.

If only I was left alone.
Not this dry.

My pink tinted glasses

Pink tinted glasses

They are a marvel

Wear

Through them every summer’s

Heavenly inspired bliss

The sun scorches you

Yet its caress is warm.

As gentle as is a mother’s

Touch.

Beautiful scenery

Wonderful

There’s no variety here

No need for it

If in existence

Possibility’s the worst

Name a child could have.

Advise

Should we have it

Is it of any importance

Mother sister brother

I have all these in one pot;

Dare not remove

My pink tinted glasses

They are a marvel to wear.

Sent from Windows Mail

Dear me

Dear me
It is time I reclaim the dreams and
aspirations I have forgone,
It seems my hardships are now
Simpley being taken away
The vision is still there.
The wish is still there
And my heart:
My dear fragile haert.
Still beats
And beats in still crys
In sync with that painstaking inner cry
Of that voice
I know not from wherence it comes.
But still dear Jah
I must listen to.
There is no other choice!
It is finally mine own time.

South Africa: My Lady

I love South Africa. It is not just an
ancestral home but it in truth a country
I would love to think of as a project
worth investing in.
There people however who forget that
this is not just a project.There are
peoples lives,feelings and stregnths
entour here. My greatest of troubles
comes to no greater view than when
one sits down and gets brave enough to
watch or listen to the countries news.
A horrid experience I tell you-a bit
commical at times and well quite down
right awe inspiring. There are accidents
every where,people are hungry and
poverty driven crime is evrywhere.
Some of us can’t even sleep properly
because of it.
What gets to me the most is we all see
these,yet when we talk we see ignorant
enough to romanticise the whole thing.
You here nicknames like
Ingwenya,inkunzi and silwane right
after horrible stories on raped,buchered
and disembowed women who had
nothing to do with the dog but smile at it
from afar. They will then ask you what
on earth was she doing going out at
night wearing nothing but skimpy tops
and skirts?
Is it her fault your sense of sexual
inhibition is but that of a scaled bum
street dog?
I think not.
A few are messing my beloved country
so bad We all look bad.

Confusions

It is not always possible

To remember every little

Detail there is

It is hard to forget some.

Those things that make you

Who you are:

A touch of sophistication

A bit of shattering,

Some simplicity

A bit of complexity

Some of us are never to give up.

Some chilling here

Cold water

Warm water there,

Rushing running and crushing

Feverishly and sometimes subtle, gently

But all purposefully put

Skillfully:

With love and care

To make you human

To remind me

Who I am:

Human