Zakes Mda - The Heart of Redness

“But since then we have spoken with them,” he assured the elders. “The rising of the dead will still happen. The next full moon will be the moon of wonders and dangers. On that great day two suns will rise in the sky. They will be red like the color of blood. In the middle of the sky, over Ntaba kaNdoda, our sacred mountain, they will collide, and the whole world will be in darkness. A great storm will arise, and only those huts that are newly thatched in preparation for the arrival of our ancestors will survive it. Out of the earth, at the mouths of all our great rivers, the dead will arise with their new cattle. Our forefathers will finally come wearing white blankets and shiny brass rings. And be warned, all you Unbelievers: the English and their collaborators, all those traitors who wear trousers, will be swallowed by the sea, which will take them back to the place of creation whence they came. . to be re-created into better people.”

The next full moon was in mid-August. Twin and Qukezwa did not sleep that night. They joined the revelers at the banks of the Gxarha River, and filled the valleys of Qolorha with song and laughter. The hills echoed the joyous sounds, and sent shivers down the spines of the colonists.

While all the carousing was going on, Heitsi slept on a grass mat behind Mhlakaza’s hut. He was not alone. There were other toddlers and babies of the Believers. They were looked after by those girls who were too young to participate in the revelry. Heitsi was getting used to this. Of late he was spending a lot of time with strangers while Qukezwa attended to matters of belief.

Soon the night was a memory. Everyone was tired. But no one slept. They wanted to see with their eyes the wonders and dangers.

Qukezwa sat on the bank of the Gxarha River, rocking Heitsi on her lap and singing a lullaby that she had learned from her Khoikhoi people. Her eyes were looking fixedly at the horizon, waiting for the two red suns to burst out of the pink-and-purple skies. Her husband sat behind her, and joined in the call-and-response parts of the lullaby. His eyes were red and his breath reeked like a pigsty. When he belched, one could actually see waves of deadly fumes assailing the crisp air of dawn. His head was pounding with a hangover and lack of sleep. Yet he was going to soldier on for the rest of the day. If he slept, who would welcome Xikixa and the rest of the distinguished ancestors?

The sun that rose was not red. Perhaps it would change color on the first steps of its journey across the sky. Perhaps a second one would rise. The Believers watched in breathless anticipation. The solitary sun walked across the sky as if it was just another day. It took its time, as it always did when it was watched. No other sun came. No great collision happened. No darkness. Instead the day was brighter than usual. The people had waited in vain. The ancestors did not venture out of the mouths of the rivers.

This was the Second Disappointment.

Once more there was anger directed at the sacred persons of the prophets. While the staunch Believers held tightly to their belief, the weak let disillusionment get the better of them. King Sarhili summoned Mhlakaza, who denied that he was the source of the prophecies. He put all the blame on Nongqawuse.

“She is the one who talks with the new people,” he said. “I am merely her mouth.”

King Sarhili retreated to Manyube, a conservation area and nature reserve where people were not allowed to chop trees or hunt animals and birds. He had often told his people, “One day these wonderful things of nature will get finished. Preserve them for future generations.” There he was able to think things over in a peaceful environment. He decided to issue a decree that chiefs should ban all further cattle-killing activities in their chiefdoms.

But a few days later the Believers were encouraged by new reports that the new people had been seen taking a stroll in the countryside near the mouths of the great rivers. This proved that the prophecies had not failed completely. Perhaps something had gone wrong somewhere. Soon the truth was discovered. The fault lay with the people who had sold their cattle off instead of slaughtering them. And those who slaughtered them without going through the ritual of preserving their imiphefumlo , their souls.

This explanation of the Second Disappointment was good enough for Sarhili. He issued new orders that the cattle-killing should continue. This time he pushed it relentlessly. He was like a man possessed. He rode once more from his Great Place at Hohita to Qolorha, where he conferred with the prophets.

Qukezwa and Twin were among the multitudes that accompanied the king to the river. He rode further than the mouth of the Gxarha River, all the way to the mouth of the Kei River. And there he saw his father, the great King Hintsa, who had been beheaded by the British twenty-one years before. He was among a host of new people who appeared in boats at the mouth of the river. They told the king that they had come to liberate the black nations, and that this message must be passed throughout the world. In the meantime the cattle-killing movement must be strengthened.

Sarhili was very excited. He announced to the multitudes, “I have seen my father! I have seen Hintsa face-to-face.”

That night, as provisions were being cooked for the king and his entourage for the long ride back to his Great Place, he decided to take a walk. When he came back he announced that he had seen his father again.

“I met my father among the wild mielies,” he said. “He gave me the spear that was buried with him. I have it now.”

His words sparked a new wave of cattle-killing. And a new fervor in Twin and Qukezwa. Sacred fires were burning in their chests, jetting out of their mouths in the form of sermons that rende-red the words of the prophets to the multitudes.

King Sarhili took the message of the new people seriously. As soon as he returned to his Great Place he sent emissaries to other black leaders in the region, to exhort them to kill their cattle. King Moshoeshoe of the Basotho people sent his own messengers to Qolorha to find out what all this cattle-killing meant. But none of the other kings heeded the prophecies.

At the same time, Mhlakaza was extending a hand of reconciliation to the white settlers. He was asking them to kill their cattle and destroy their crops as well, for the sake of their own redemption. He invited them to come to the Gxarha River to see for themselves and hear the good news of the resurrection.

“It is not enough for you to read the big black book,” he warned them. “You must throw away your witchcraft. The people that have come have not come to make war but to bring about a better state of things for all.”

But the colonists were too stubborn to accept his invitation. What the Believers had suspected all along, that the whites were beyond redemption, was confirmed. What else would one expect from people who were a product of a different creation from that of the amaXhosa, people who were so unscrupulous that they killed the son of their own god?

While Twin was trying to come to grips with issues of faith, Twin-Twin was grappling with his conscience. It seemed to him that his unbelief was sinking him deeper into collaboration with the conquerors of his people. Although he was strong enough to resist conversion, some of his fellow Unbelievers were becoming Christians. And when they did, they sang praises of the queen of the conquerors, asking some god to save her. That worried him a lot. He did not want the queen to be saved. He wanted nothing more than to see the complete disappearance of the colonists from kwaXhosa. But the way of Nongqawuse was not the way.

Chief Nxito seemed to depend increasingly on Twin-Twin’s counsel, especially because Twin-Twin was now stationed at Qolorha under the protection of the British government, and was able to see what was happening in the old man’s chiefdom. Whenever the chief had to meet representatives of The Man Who Named Ten Rivers — even if it was merely John Dalton — Twin-Twin was required to be there.