THE NEXT KING

“Please don’t spoil this wonderful ceremony, we must behave so that we appease our ancestors because our next king’s guidance and wisdom rely upon them” Biyere- the late king’s Nduna told a group of drunkards who were making unnecessary noise.

 “You are right, as the air to a bird, the sea to a fish and culture to a man so is the ancestors power to our king-to-be” echoed Kanjombi, namkungwi wa kumadzi (advisor at the Nyau cult)  .

People were all over the place to witness the coronation ceremony of the new king of Mphudzu dynasty.


Women were busy cooking different types of food while others were sharing some of which was already cooked. People in small groups were busy discussing stories. To the young ones it was a billion dollar ceremony as it was the first to them.

  “Will the king-to-be going to rule this land as did our beloved king who is resting at kunkhadze (graveyard)?” I asked anxiously

 “May be, but I heard that the one who is likely to take the throne is Bulamu, a son to the fallen king’s sister” It was Mwandida, a young man known by his skill of beating the royal drum

 Bulamu? This name brought back to my memory the dignity of the throne which was about to be given to somebody. I vehemently believed that Bulamu does not deserve the throne. It did notmake sense to give such an important position to someone who spent ten years in the red man’s country (or they say Whiteman?) for one reason, education- blaspheming his own culture.

 “After all the years these years he has been in the land of the whites, he has been taught and accepted our  cultural inferiority and admired the white men’s culture for power, wealth and theso called civilisation it has, how will he going to preserve our tradition?” I tried to share the fear I had with my friends.

 “I have been thinking of the same thing. I saw him with a black book which he has been telling people that it is the bible. I also heard him telling children that the book contains the good news about someone he calls Jesus the only son of God” said Kanjombi

  “That’s true, that book does not talk about Mwari, Chiuta and M’bona but only names you can’t understand. I don’t know who bewitched him to believe everything these monsters told him” I reasoned with my friends.

 “The book is full of lies, he once told me of a woman called Virgin Mary, a mother of Jesus himself. How come her virginity continues after bearing a child? I think he must be told about thetrue virgins we have presented at Kumsinja” said Biyere while shaking mkwere (guard used for drinking beer).

 I sat restlessly on the stone, run my hands over my face, crossed and uncrossed my legs and so on. The colour and the weight of the world were changing already- many were the visions of Bulamu teaching his gospel- trying to conquer our tradition. I knew that I was becoming anxious. I even failed to swallow masese.

 “You know what? I have heard that most of the kingdoms these people have disbanded and occupied it is because of people of Bulamu’s calibre. They have broken different cultures. Men,women and children have suffered and lost their old treasured possessions and have been told things they cannot understand and use properly” said Kanjombi while rolling chingambwe on asoft paper, thanks for the missionaries whose papers replaced leafs.

 I really wondered how a man whose history, culture and humanity have been striped off and adopted other people’s philosophy which does not see holiness in the African religions. People who see superstition instead of African religions and witchcraft instead of technology can be a king of us who believe in gulewamkulu and ancestral spirits for guidance.

                                 A Mphudzu adaweta ng’ombe
                                 Ng’ombe yoyela, nanga inu mkuweta
                                    (Ng’ombe yoyela)


Amayi achisamba’s (female section of gulewamkulu religon) song ended our conversation as they wereescorting zilombo followed by the village elders at the waiting place (liunde) ready for the coronation ceremony which was about to start. Men, women and children were boisterous knowing that they are about to have their new king.

 I again felt powerless when I saw Biyere in the company of the so called believers who came all the way from the cities with their bibles. I knew that if the elders give the throne to him, then our culture is gone.

 “Taste this beer, it is very sweet equal to the ceremony itself. May our beloved king rest in peace and his spirit guide us in choosing his successor, who will be as wise as kalonga Mazizi, Lobengula and Manelik among the stronger kings” it was now Zibethi, my son-in-law who came from now where I waved my hand meaning that I had no appetite for the masese. The fact was that I was taking the coronation ceremony seriously because the choice which was about to take place would either build or fail our peaceful chiefdom.        

 “Zibethi, this is the time we need to get troubled about preserving our valuable possession of which some dynasties have lost to invaders through their weak kings” I tried to reason with him.

 I didn’t believe if he got the point I tried to raise. I was in total rejection to see the throne being given to Bulamu who has been telling people that he wants to introduce freedoms as his corner stones.

People will be able to stand up and insults their leaders. People will have the choice to elect leaders who after winning elections will have no interest to live in the villages. We will be paying money for our own land and paying those who will be our oppressors.

“Chiuta, is this how the kingdoms will end?” I said to myself as I realised that our ancestral land will be snatched by the so called City Assemblies, chiefs turned to dancers before the presidents and at the end, culture being conquered.

 “Calm down, calm dowm please, today is the final day to live without a leader as we are about to choose one” shouted one of the ndunas (chieftency elders).

I lost appetite of the ceremony. Everything went blank in my mind. I then decided to leave so that I get the results from someone. I stood up with anger, walking in the feet of those who sat on my way. I felt that if I had a machete, I could have just killed Bulamu to serve the kingdom.

 “As our tradition permits us, we can choose someone if the possible one is…….” Continued the Nduna
 I lost what the Nduna was trying to say as I had already passed three houses  , heading to nowhere.