The Tongue Is Fire: South African Storytellers and Apartheid

THE LAND HAS GROWN OLD

Ashton Ngcama THE LAND HAS GROWN OLD (XHOSA) The poet and performer was Ashton Ngcama, a Mpondo, born in 1923; he has lived among the Xesibe since he was a child. This performance took place on August 24, 1972, in Mount Ayliff District in the Transkei. In the audience were seven Xesibe men. (NS-486; tape 15, side 2) Salute! Rise up! The way we travelled Skirted the forests, Hopped from river to river, Mountain to mountain. Who would tell our origins? We, whose story is known by none, A story preserved in blood: Who would tell our origins? Our story was not preserved By anyone: it was preserved By God. We did not see this God. From whom did we hear of him? White nations arrived. I say to you, The one who coughs on his way home, The chewer of the ring, One with a mouth that is long, I say to you: Things are spoken just below the hill: They summon the Mpondo people. The one who calls on the shoulder, The namer of the unnameable: The one being called will not hear. 282 The Land Has Grown Old 283 The one not being called will hear. We eat meat but have no cattle, We have sheep but have no knife. I direct these words to Mjoli's child, To the one who builds for himself, To the one who bites like a dog: The people of Nqabana's place remember him: He bit them, As he bit the Mpondo,.then left them living, As he bit the Xesibe, then left them there, As he bit the Nguni, beating them back, As he bit the Thembu, then left them th~re. I am not referring to you, Child of the king: You were doing a lot of moving about, Questing after the kingship. But we did not even know your origins. Still, people of the earth will talk. We have no interest in your claims, But we have heard you. We must have faith in Jojo's land, The land of Jojo is the land of the king. Jojo was a king! I am not speaking of these modernsThese moderns begotten by Fikeni. Only Jojo begets kings! I do not know where this one came from, I do not even know his status, But it is said you were moving together. I am saying this to you, To the one who does not bask in the sun As it was basked in by the Mpondo and the Khoi. Come, Nations, and arbitrate! A matter at Mthatha puzzles us: A directive came forth from that place And it went to Mzimkhulu. 284 Part Three: The Threatened Dream Go, Child of the king! People of lojo's land, why are you not acting? Why do you not go and fetch the king from the forests? This is why things have gone bad here on earth, This is why the land has grown old. It is because you put these moderns in the land And left the truth behind. Because he had been given the real truth by an ancestor, lojo went and called Ayliff.1 lojo did that, And Ayliff, terrified of the king's spear, Fearful of the assegai of Mjoli, Took his collar and put it in his pocket. That genuine leader saw Ayliff in a dream: He did not know him, but he heard in dreams That this man was to be the king, And he did not like what lojo was doing. But lojo invited the light, he sired a teacher. A wound remains, things are not going well. Friends, please fetch the kings, bring them back! Let them return from the forests! I shall not be talking about you, Child of the king, Because I do not know your genealogy. You disturb me. I speak because I want us to go home, To go back to where we came from. In the name of the owners of this land, By virtue of assemblies and compacts, By giving our daughters in marriage: We initiated girls and graduated boys, And we put the boys in the mountains. The boys did not complain-the only thing, They heard this from someone last night: "I warn you, do not pass by Nompita's place. If you do, I shall be cursed." I heard people speaking, murmuring: They told of A man who was lying on a...