Lessons of Xhosa folklore still have much to offer

Recently Chris Hani’s assassination was commemorated, paradoxically by a failed bid to release his assassin on parole on medical grounds. Little known about Hani, who in turn did not know me, is that among his many attributes, he was a great student of Greek mythology.

It would be surprising if this love was not born out of his first interest in African mythology.

In the same week, another great lover of African mythology, Bhut’Mcebisi Xundu, was laid to rest.

We had spent endless hours together deciphering the political import of these primary school fairy tales.

Like children deprived of toys when young and who grow up later to spoil themselves, we would go down memory lane trying to discover what wisdom our sages of old meant to pass on to us with these playful yarns.

Of course, we were not alone in this. John Keats himself variously defined a poem as an expression of profound, deep-seated ideals, in the lightest of veins.

In one a scene in which two mice discovered a dining table full of food is depicted. One mouse exclaimed: Yha sidekelwe (Great! They have laid out a delicious meal for us).

The other mouse remarked: Yhoo! Sibekelwe (Careful! They have laid a trap/snare) for us.

Needless to say, the mouse that consumed the poisoned stuff died.

Bhut’Mcebisi’s interpretation was that all that glitters is not gold.

Next, a girl tells her mother of a beautiful dream where a table was full of western food. Engasaphang’uJim / Womiwa ngudakada / Kuthe kusenjalo kwavel’uthikoloshe / Wasikatsa, wasikatsa (Jim so gulped the food that it choked him. At that point a thikoloshe appeared, who lashed us unsympathetically).

The sages here were obviously warning us about imbibing western values without vigilance. Watch the western aesthetics in the tale. Food is the white man’s. Table is a foreign object. Jim is an English name. Little wonder the thikoloshe – a traditional playmate – punished them harshly.

Nogayoyo’s rather long tale ends with the arrival of a groom’s party. They are honoured by their in-laws with traditional slaughtering. Baxhelelw’encinci / Encinci bayala / Baxhelelw’imvubu / yonanyam’inkulu (They were entertained with a small beast which they rejected on grounds of its size. Then they were slaughtered a hippo, which has lots of meat).

The moral here is that you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The arrogance of the groom’s party resulted in them being given a hippo which in African tradition is not eaten.

Yet another tale is of two cats who successfully stole a loaf of bread. Trouble started when they could not share it equally. On their own they decided to invite usokhetye (an ape) as an arbitrator. The ape’s solution was to bite more on one piece so it became much smaller than the other.

When the disadvantaged cat complained of this gross unfairness, the ape took an even bigger bite of the other piece so it became the smaller.

This went on until the cats realised the ape was just about to finish everything.

At this point they decided to reconcile so they could be given the little that was left.

Sokhetye declared: Ningade nibe nixolelene, kodwa yona ingalo yomthetho ayikaxoli ngenxa yobuyatha benu bokungakwazi ukwabelana nodwa ‘de nibhenele kum ndingowesinye isizwe (It may well be that you have reconciled, but the arm of the law must punish your foolishness and failure to share your spoils; to a point where you seek my arbitration, despite me being from a different tribe).

A number of lessons emanate from this tale. First, there is no honour among thieves. Second, you don’t take family disagreements to outsiders. Lastly, people get into any activity with disguised self-interest.

Undoubtedly, Bhut’Mcebisi’s favourite tale was that of uYeye travelling with his father carrying a red calabash of sour milk (amasi). They placed it openly in a kraal. The observers declared: Hii! Mayiselwe zizidenge zodwa. Hii! Mayiselwe zizidenge zodwa (Alas! Let’s drink it, they are fools. Alas! Let’s drink it, they are fools).

Like good mythology (I think of the Greek Trojan Horse and the German Faustbuch), this tale has a number of interpretations depending on which side of the political fence you stand. One is Yeye and his father were stupid not to hide their calabash, hence the celebration by the onlookers: “Alas! Let’s drink it, they are fools”.

The other interpretation is that this “red calabash” is a euphemism for a bottle of brandy and we Africans will be fools (zidenge zodwa) to drink a white man’s poison.

Perhaps the most observable sub-theme in all these tales is the use of food.

Could it be the sages of old observed that food security is priority number one for a nation?

Or could it be they were using food as a symbol of feeding the people wrong political ideals?

And could it be what is being fed to you, the South Africans of today?

Whatever your answer, William Wordsworth surely had this matter in mind when he wrote: “To me the meanest flower that blows can give / Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears”.

Bhut’Mcebisi has left this kind of baton to his children. May they get to the finishing line.

Professor Mncedisi Jordan is past professor of accounting and an indigenous researcher