Commonplace … then it's gone
SOMETHING seems commonplace. Then suddenly it's not there any more. People of my vintage will remember the colourful earplugs (iziqhaza) once worn by Zulu men, whether in town or in the deep rural districts. The earlobes were pierced then carefully stretched to hold these brightly patterned wooden discs that were several inches (about 60 mm) in diameter and proclaimed the Zulu ethnicity of the wearer.
But when did you last see a pair, if you remember them at all? The story of the earplugs – their patterns, their meaning and the way they were overtaken by modernity – is contained in a book that has come this way: Amagugu kaZulu/Zulu Treasures, republished by the KwaZulu-Natal Heritage Council (Amafa) in a second edition.
Illustrated in colour, this coffee table production looks at the entire range of Zulu craftwork and artefacts – pottery, beadwork, weaving and metalwork, placing it all in its historical context. A fascinating section covers Zulu iron extraction and ironsmithery in the precolonial era.
Amagugu kaZulu/Zulu Treasures also has some historical paintings and photographs, one being of King Cetschwayo "draped in a bear skin".
A bear skin? Then one recalls that Cetschwayo was exiled to London for a time after the Anglo-Zulu War, where he apparently made a big impression on Queen Victoria and cut a dash in society. The bearskin painting was by British royal portrait artist Carl Sohn.
The Anglo-Zulu War was, of course, one of the more shameful episodes of the colonial era, opposed as unjust and absurd by Sir Henry Bulwer, Lieutenant-Governor of Natal. But he was overridden by the gung-ho Cape-based militarists represented by British High Commissioner Sir Bartle Frere, who had the ear of the imperial government. Twenty years later, a similar fate was to overtake the Boers.
The tragic follies of empire.
Nguni markings
ANOTHER section of the book is sheer poetry as it presents (with colour photographs of the animal in each case) the Zulu descriptions of the markings on their Nguni cattle.
A white, rust-speckled cow is Amaqanda Kacilo (The eggs of the lark); another is Umzumbe (Sugar bean). The reddish, speckled coloration of this cow is exactly like that of the sugar bean. Delightful.
Amagugu kaZulu/Zulu Treasures is available for R150 from the Heritage Council (Amafa) offices in Longmarket Street, Pietermaritzburg. Whoops! Longbelly Street. Whoops again! Langalibalele Street.
Kangaroo trial
LONGBELLY is, of course, the way British MPs pronounced the name of Chief Langalibalele, of the Hlubi people, when – prompted by Bishop Colenso - they took up the issue of his kangaroo trial on charges of rebellion.
It ended in Langalibalele's reinstatement and the recall in disgrace of Governor Benjamin Pine, who was stripped of his knighthood.
The occasional justice of empire.
Anfield cat (again)
THE ANFIELD Cat that (as mentioned last week) held up play between Liverpool and Tottenham in an English Premier League match has become an internet celebrity.
The grey-and-white tabby has more followers on several Twitter sites set up in its name than celebrity Liverpool signing Stewart Downing.
On the actual night the cat invaded the pitch, Liverpool supporters chanted: "A cat, a cat – a cat, a cat, a cat!" – a variation on their traditional chant: "Attack, attack …"
All this excitement because of a cat on the pitch. Good heavens - I hope a wildebeest doesn't invade next week, there'll be pandemonium.
Tailpiece
A STUNNING blonde arrives at a casino in Las Vegas. Clearly tanked up, she declares she's from Cork and full of the Irish luck. She bets $20 000 on a single roll of the dice.
She says: "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude." At which she strips and rolls the dice, yelling: "Come on, baby, Mama needs new clothes!"
As the dice come to a stop, she jumps up and down and squeals: "Yes! Yes! Zowie! I won! I won!"
She hugs each of the dealers, scoops up her winnings and her clothes and disappears into the night.
The dealers stare at each other dumbfounded. One asks: "What did she roll?"
"I don't know … I thought you were watching."
Moral: Not all Irish are drunks. Not all blondes are dumb. But all men are men.
Last word
I think age is a very high price to pay for maturity.
No comments:
Post a Comment