It seems that not even Eskom’s stifling bouts of sporadic loadshedding could dampen the pomp and pageantry that is a characteristic sing-along to Heritage Day. Enthusiasts clearly ruffled deep into their wardrobes and so out came the multicoloured skirts, beaded shirts, faces daubed in ochre – a reminder of a time where amaXhosa were proud amaqaba – “uncouth heathens” in the parlance of their erstwhile colonial overlords.
From Facebook to WhatsApp groups it was a cultural throwback to days we’ll never get back. Where traditional garb was as commonplace as rocking a pair of skinny jeans.
Of course, several government departments rallied in arranging events around the theme. Not ones to take kindly to being outdone, the tiny tots at SS Madikane Primary School were eager to show what they are made of – traditional style. There was dancing, singing of old songs and umxhentso – that thunderous African stomping of feet and tiny hands clapping up primal rhythms. After an inspired speech by the venerable Mrs Manoto, an ex teacher to generations of Colesberg’s youngsters, it was time to whip out the tins, skipping ropes and play hard.
At Colesberg Primary nextdoor, their big brothers and sisters clearly had no desire to be upstaged by the little ones either. Amid a motivational talk by Colesberg’s own reigning Ms Heritage Northern Cape, Anelisiwe Thibane, the audience were serenaded by the school’s choir.
These gatherings are never quite complete without the writhing and shrieking iimbongi. Their amatshoba that resembles a primordial flywhisk flaying the air as if flogging away at unseen spirits. Commonly referred to as “praise singers” they are by some definitions actually the people’s poets. The very conscience of a society. But mostly, with their growling delivery, they have a reputation for riling up even the most demure in the crowd.
To those with no familiarity with these oral sages, I suggest a certain video of one such fellow singing the praises of the late statesman Nelson Mandela. To paraphrase, he respectfully refers to Madiba as the boy who speaks English until the English say “yes, yes, yes.”
Evidently there are just not enough hours in one day to celebrate these deeper occassions. Hence, the following week, Wednesday 28, the Department of Correctional Services and South African Police Services got together for a lovely shindig of their own.
In true cop and warder style, there were no half measures, no taking of prisoners – no pun intended. Instead in a friendly competition that saw the food, dance, music and storytelling of at least five different cultural groups, the judges were doomed to have a difficult time picking their winners. How does one make a choice between the hand-woven, cone-shaped baSotho hat? Those finely-beaded necklaces of the Xhosa. The Cape Malay-inspired dishes from the Coloured community. The wiry old man strumming his guitar like some weather-beaten rocker from the platteland. Top spot finally went to the baSotho but nobody was weeping; there were enough African-inspired concoctions and umqombothi (sorghum beer) to drown any lingering sorrows.
