The Coronation of King Ndamase ll of Amapondo ase Nyandeni

 The Coronation of King Ndamase ll of Amapondo ase Nyandeni.

                                                                                                                                    

Rain. Petrichor – my almost most favouritest smell. The road was slushy with red mud road; at last we had had proper rain after a very dry winter.  My friend Sandy did a half gasp as we negotiated a muddy patch. I’d said I hadn’t driven in mud for ages, and needed a bit of practice ; she thought I would limp through the nasty parts. I didn’t – that’s a recipe for getting stuck., so we did a few skids, and a few bumps, but eventually we got to Nyandeni Great Place, near Libode, in Pondoland, Eastern Cape, 

South Africa, after having flagged down a few taxis to ask if we were on the right road.

Rain, is regarded as extremely auspicious in Pondo culture. Rain at a wedding is a sign of a marriage being a long and happy one.

Rain at a coronation, is an extremely good sign of the king having a long and good reign.

It rained today, 3 October 2018, at the coronation of Ndamase Ndlovuyezwe Ndamase, as King Ndamase ll of Amapondo ase Nyandeni, Pondoland, so his subjects who came to see the coronation, were very happy, and stepped through and over puddles with smiles.

Pondoland, a region of the former Republic of Transkei, now part of the Eastern Cape, South Africa, stretches along the Wild Coast, from Hluleka south of Port St Johns to the Mtamvuna River in the north, on the border of the Kwa Zulu Natal south coast, and extends 100 – 150km inland. It is divided into Western Pondoland, and Eastern Pondoland. Amapondo ase Nyandeni is part of Western Pondoland, and the king’s seat is at Nyandeni Great Place near Libode, about 75km from Port St Johns.

The Amapondo People wishing their new king well.

Great tents were erected to accommodate the thousands of guests who were in attendance. The guest list included South African Government Ministers, South African Kings and Queens from other regions,

Bishops and priests, foreign dignitaries from as far away as China, and Kenya, local government officials, and of course, the ordinary, but most important people, the Pondo People.

We, as media, chose seats in the fourth row, in front of the raised dais. It turned out that those seats were reserved for the Royal family, so we moved further along. The seats we chose were also in the fourth row. The rows behind this row was full of people from Port St Johns, who were very happy to have us in their group. They were delightful. They sang and chanted their opinions, and had to be the noisiest, happiest group in the audience of several thousand people. A bit later we were also asked to move from those seats to make room for more royal family members. We were very happy to oblige, but our new found friends, told us not to move. They had no intention of moving either, and it turned out that our seats weren’t needed after all,

The Royal Family members were splendidly dressed, the princesses were quite gorgeous. The Pondo people in attendance were dressed in traditional Pondo dress, with magnificent bead work enhancing the traditional dress.

Of course, the main reason for the day’s celebrations was the ‘crowning’ of King Ndamase ll,

who, due to various reasons, had not been able to ascend to the throne on the death of is father, who had died many years before. King Ndamase ll was invested as king, when he donned the lion skin of the Amapondo ase Nyandeni Kingdom. 'Crowning': the Amapondo kings do not wear crowns as western kings do, they wear a lion skin.

I recognized and greeted many people. Ayanda, who had probably hired out the massive tents for the ceremony, OR Tambo Regional Municipal staff who I meet at tourism get togethers, Roger, representing the South African Defence Force and local regiment; resplendent in his dress uniform, and untitled ordinary men and women who had also travelled up from Port St Johns to be part of this historic occasion. 

Speeches were many.

Pondo Dancers

Ululations and singing was plentiful. Traditional dancers performed, including one very unusual dancer, a man, who impersonated a female dancer. He had everybody agog – cross dressing is not common in Pondoland, and especially not at royal functions. Speeches ranged from political wish lists to the reciting of the entire Royal Pondoland family’s genealogy, with great emphasis being made on the great King Faku, the Ndamase family, and the Bokleni family.

The mention of the Bokleni family brought to mind how many royal family members and chief’s family members from this area, had died when the SS Mendi was sunk in 1917. The SS Mendi was a troop carrier that sank when another British ship collided with it in the icy English Channel. 646 men perished in this disaster, many were from Pondoland, including those from the Bokleni and Ndamase families.

Speeches included how to get farming up and running in the area again, and how royal families and traditional leaders were going to be asked to give a lot of their unused lands to their subjects and communities, so that they could become self sufficient again. Pondoland was traditionally extensively farmed, but with the South African government creating a welfare state, people no longer had the need to grow their own foods, and the skills, and will to farm was lost. Nyandeni Great Place is surrounded by rolling hills, which still have unused terracing clearly visible on old farmland. Getting crops growing on the fertile land will be easy. The motto of the Nyandeni Kingship says it all: 

                                                       "The Soil is our greatest asset".

Unused, fertile, farmland with terraces in Nyandeni

The horrendous unemployment was also mentioned, with figures from Port St Johns being cited: out of a population of 55 000, 53 000 people are unemployed and are surviving on government grants.

The actual investiture of King Ndamase was about to happen. The lion skin which is the king’s symbol of office was duly blessed by the Bishop, and then it was placed over the head

The Lion Skin is blessed

and shoulders of King Ndamase ll. His people expressed their pleasure and happiness in song and chants, and the new king signed the necessary documents. More dance and song took place.

He then took his place on the golden throne, and faced his happy subjects.

During the entire ceremony, the king’s wife, now queen, did not take part in any of the ceremony. She sat on her own throne, amongst her family, in the front row of the audience.

The AmaPondo King and Queen

Only at the end of the ceremony, did she join the king on the raised dais.

The Praise Singer

 Praise singers are normally male, but King Ndamase also had a female praise singer; she was full of whim and vigor about how King Ndamase would make development and job creation happen in the area.

Many a closing thank-you was done, it was now time for a rather late lunch, which we declined, as we had to drive back to Port St Johns in the auspicious rain.

Beautiful women in traditional dress.

Sandy and I got separated in the throngs of people, and I wandered around, for a while trying to find her. It was indeed a privilege to be there, stopping to chat to people, photographing people in their wonderful traditional costumes, just being part of Pondoland. I did laugh at myself though, taking a youngster to task in the melee of people: one young and tall whippersnapper (maybe, being tall, he wasn’t a Pondo), thought himself quite clever by walking past me and saying: ‘Hi Mlungu’. Whatever you may have been told about the use of that word, Mlungu in Pondoland, is generally an insult. Sometimes it isn’t, you have to be au fair with how and when it is used. This young man, wasn’t exactly being insulting, he was being disrespectful, naughty, maybe trying his luck at impressing his friends. Luck wasn’t on his side. I stopped, turned and called him back politely with a smile. He and his four friends came up to me, and I greeted them all, and then asked him if he would talk to his mother like that? His face fell, his friends sniggered at him, and I got many an instant ‘cele xolo’ (I’m sorry) from the young men. The apology was accepted, and we parted. Later when I saw him in the car park, he again greeted me, this time politely, with a sheepish smile. Yes, Umfana – manners maketh a man, I hope you don’t repeat your rudeness to someone else. As an aside: three South African police officers in Durban were recently fired for addressing their superior like that. After a court case and apologizing, they were reinstated.

On the way home, I took the turn to the Mendi memorial – it was newly erected and I hadn’t seen it yet.

Mendi Memorial

Somehow, we missed it, the last sign said it was 200m away  - but we must have taken the wrong fork in the road, and we ended up on an almost non-road, which did eventually lead back to the road to Port St Johns. The Mendi memorial, remembering those brave fighting men, one whose family member was made King of Amapondo ase Nyandeni today, will have to be visited another day. May his reign be long and good, and may he remember the words that that were spoken as the ship sank: ‘We are the sons of Africa’, and instill that same sense of pride in his subjects, and build the Kingdom up to be prosperous for all.

Books on the Amapondo People and the Mendi tragedy:

Faku: Rulership and Colonialism in the Mpondo Kingdom by Timothy J Stapleton

Men of the Mendi by Brenda Shepherd

Dancing the Death Drill by Fred Khumalo (Historical fiction)

Walking the Wild Coast (at last).

Walking the Wild Coast (at last).

Face Book is amazing. We reconnect with old friends, get to know all sorts of interesting stuff, and some of us see posts and make instant decisions regarding those posts. My dog Hunter is at my feet because of such a decision. A friend posted a photo of him, I fell in love, and here he is.

The same instant decision making happened, when Margie Pretorious, one of my few FB ‘friends’, that I hadn’t actually met, late one night posted something about Wise Women Walking. What is it? I messaged her. Her answer; ‘We’ll walk and talk, and maybe get answers to things’, interested me. ‘Do you want more participants?’ I asked. And that was it; I had signed up to walk the northern part of South Africa’s Wild Coast with a bunch of women I had never met before.

Not only had I never met the other walkers, I had never hiked for 5 days (or 2 days for that matter), carried a back pack, slept in a hut, done without my ‘good’ binoculars for days. What had I said yes to? A bonus; I had met our guide to be, Bongani Mlotywa,of Absolute Wild Coast Tours, briefly at a tourism conference. He had seemed an OK guy. See https://www.facebook.com/absolutewildcoast/

I had moved to the Wild coast 36 years before (for a month), it really was time I walked the Wild Coast.

Margie set up a WhatApp group, I flippantly said that I’d drive to Port Edward, walk halfway home, get driven back to Port Edward, and then I would drive home again. That caused some confusion- huh? After all, who lives in Port St Johns?

So, the day before, I drove to Port Edward, and met up with Margie and other interesting people, had convivial conversation at supper time , and at breakfast, about issues we are passionate about, and then drove off to the Wild Coast Sun, where we were meeting and starting from. I stopped at the local supermarket for must haves like chocs and snacks, and as I was walking away from my car, past 3 women, something they said, made me stop and ask if they were my walking partners – yes they were, Lucy, Cathy and Janet. We immediately hit it off, and decided that wine was a must, so the bottle store was also visited. Thank-goodness for wine in half litre cartons, and I discovered that Old Brown Sherry, a must in all bush situations, was now also available in cartons. The extra weight that I was carrying? I reckoned we’d empty the cartons on the first night. It was a completely wrong assumption.

We parked our cars at the hotel, met up with Bongani, got down to the beach, sat down and ate our lunch. I liked the pace of this adventure! 

Bongani got up, we put on our backpacks, and started the six kilometers which was the distance on our first day. The Wild Coast is beautiful, and it was beautiful walking past those rivers that I normally drove over, further inland.

We pass the petrified tree logs on the beach and marvel at shells deposited in sediments a few million years ago to form limestone. Wood gets petrified, when silicas penetrate buried wood, and, due to rapid crystallization happening, it becomes fossilized.  

We arrived at Sigidi Village a few hours later, and gratefully sank down on the mattresses in our communal hut. Ten minutes later, our hostess served us tea and hot steamed bread. Steamed bread is a Pondo speciality, it is cooked/ baked in a cast iron pot over an open fire, and with peanut butter, it is uber delicious.

Village based accommodation is not for everybody, but if you’re not fussy, when you do do a Wild Coast walk, try it, instead of the fancier tented camps that dot the coast. Your sleeping hut is large, with mattresses on the floor. Sometimes there is a separate, ‘living’ hut where meals are served. Your toilet is a long drop, with long drop smells, with a door that may or may not be wonky. Your bathroom is a shambling lean-to, where a 2 jug hot water bath in a basin becomes a brief stint in heaven. Your hostess really looks after you, having heated the water in a pot on her fire in the cooking lean-to.

Supper – yummy Pondo food. My favourite, nqush (samp and beans) is served with a stew and vegetables. Nqush is not pronounced ‘enquushe’. In Xhosa,the ‘q’ is one those delightful tongue clicks. One of the ‘tongue against the palate’ ones.

We chat, we lighten the wine box, but far from empty it. We go to sleep at about 8.00pm, feeling quite silly, because it is so early.

In the morning, some of us are up with the sun. Since it is winter, sunrise is after 6.30am – not exactly early. Lucy makes proper filter coffee, I have brought good quality instant coffee along; some things cannot be given up, even on a Wild Coast hike. Breakfast is maize porridge and more steamed bread. We are given lunch packs, and off we go.

A petrified log

On day two, we will walk 9km. We leave Sigidi, and head over the hills, cutting diagonally across to the sea.We walk along the beach, and see oxen pulling a sleigh, something that I think only happens in Transkei, but I have never seen one on a beach. Firewood gets collected with it. The children accompanying their grandfather are delightful,

and a photo session with them is held. We stop for lunch, 

plonking ourselves down on dune in a row, facing the sea. 

The sandwiches are steamed bread and jam, they get eaten very fast.

   

Later on, we arrive at Matholane village. As it was at Sigidi, our hostess makes us comfortable. We attack the hot steamed bread with gusto. Steamed bread was the reason why none of lost any weight during the 50 something kilometer walk. Dinner was again delicious, and we had the children of the village entertain us with song and dance. The youngest couldn’t have been 3 years old yet, and the oldest was about 17 years old; she was baby-sitting a very young child, of maybe a few months, and the baby was danced with, and it slept through the loud singing, all the while being passed between the children.

Matholane village is near the edge of a magnificent gorge, where I found the last resting place of Chief Pynnokiatus. As you can see in the photo, the stone formation does look like a reclining person with a very long nose. As all of us on the walk are against the N2 Wild Coast Toll Road and the mega bridges, that are being proposed by the SA Government’s Department of Transport, and their agency SANRAL

 ( note: I am not against a decent upgraded road), I thought it apt to say he was related to the story spinning Chief Sanralliatis.

About a hundred meters from the homestead we were staying in, is the most amazing collection of standing stones, sort of reminiscent of Stonehenge. Archaeologist Len van Schalkwyk  thinks they may be  ‘naturally occurring Msikaba Sandstone boulders possibly dispersed by a a higher Mio-Pliocene sea level stand’. Which is gobbledegook to me, I just can’t grasp the reality of things that are between 23 million and 5 million years old. I wondered around them at sunrise, and imagined all sorts of scenarios of how they had come to be. Natural weathering and changing sea levels didn’t feature in my thoughts.

Wednesday morning, day 3 had us heading towards the Mtentu River, the only place other than the Msikaba River, where the Mkambati Palm,  Jubaeopsis caffra , also known as the Pondo coconut or Dwarf Pondoland palm, is found. This endemic species, because of its small size has become a popular house plant in the USA, so much so, that there are probably more of these palms in Florida than what there are on The Wild Coast. Which is good to know, should some tragedy happen to the naturally occurring palms. Like Uganda's rhinos all being shot out, during 'the Troubles', and new stock coming from Disney Land. 

The MkambatiPalm, Jubaeopsis caffra

Leucosprnum innovans, a very
special endemic at Sigidi. 

But first we had to cross the red sand dunes of Xolobeni. These amazing red sand dunes are rich in heavy minerals, especially titanium. The South African government, had given an Australian company the right to mine these minerals, but in their arrogance and greed, had not thought it important to ask the local people, the Amadiba, a Pondo Clan, if they thought it was ok to mine their ancestral lands. Most of the Amadiba objected strongly, but a few, having been bought by the mining company, wanted the mining to happen. This has resulted in many years of strife, with the result that the dunes have not been mined. Yet. The proposed toll road would provide much needed access to the sands.

The red dunes of Xolobeni, which have been inhabited for over 300 000 years.

 It is as if you have suddenly been transported to Namibia; the dune area is extensive, with high dunes in the richest of colours. I pick up what looks like stone age tools, and later ask Erich Fisher, a palaeoanthropologist, who has studied the area about them. He is quite sure that one item is an ancient tool. It is an ancient site, it was studied by Kathy Kumon in 2006, and Len van Schalkwyk has also  done research there. I quote Len’s comments:

‘The stone tools you are observing probably span some 300 – 400 000 years of early human interaction on the landscape. Their provenance within the dune sands is the subject of ongoing research (Kuman, K. 2006; Fisher et.al. 2013) but suffice to say that their appearance on the hard pan indicates the winnowing effect of the aeolian sands as the latter are removed.
In papers published by Prof. Oliver Davies (Natal Museum) in the early 1950’s and later in the 70’, ancient stone artefacts were reported from a number of localities where red dunes are distributed along the KwaZulu-Natal and Pondoland coast. Those described by Davies are of the late Early Stone Age industry known as the Sangoan. Kuman and I have observed that the bulk of the stone artefacts at Xolobeni are of the Sangoan Industry but that possible early Middle Stone Age artefacts (250 -30 kya) may also occur at Xolobeni. Kuman has also described stone tools with elements from the preceding Acheulian Complex dated at possibly 500-600 kya.’

Kya means thousand years ago in archaeology and palaeontology speak. I had picked up some seriously ancient tools. And put them down again. How can anyone entertain the thought of ruining an ancient site? I can only imagine the outrage that would ensue, should there ever be thoughts of mining at Stonehenge or Ayers Rock, so why is it ok to ruin this site? Is it because the Amadiba Clan is very happy to pursue their ancient traditions and life style, and are therefore considered as uninformed / uneducated peasants by the investors?  Why is the area not being a declared a heritage site? That people can even fleetingly consider messing up the culture and heritage of an indigenous people, is arrogant.

Bongani points out a midden, which has been newly uncovered by the winds, a midden with shells and bones. Who were these ancient people who messily left their tools and rubbish lying around? We spend a long time speculating on a subject that we know very little about, and then carry on to the homestead where we will spend the night.

The homestead at Mtentu, was the only one I was disappointed with.  Hopefully the lady in charge has realized that not picking  up the litter around her huts, and treating her dogs badly, will not get her more customers. The children also performed here, but as they leveled kicks and clouts at their dogs, they didn’t get money for sweets. We did finish the last of Old Brown Sherry eventually, my ruck sack is now nearly 3 kilograms lighter!

 Mtentu Lodge, a 15 minute walk away, is where we went to charge our very flat phones. The hosts there are delightful, and while our phones got some life into them, we had drinks and chatted with Chris, an economist who had chucked in city living, and was now teaching the local kids science and maths.

Day 4 dawned, and I was very happy to leave, possibly our hosts were glad to see us go too, as we shouted every time a dog was abused.

 We made our way down to the river, where our canoe man ferried us one by one across the Mtentu River, over to the northern border of the Mkambati game reserve. The Mkambati Game reserve has several beautiful waterfalls, we stopped at Horseshoe Falls, and the brave amongst us (everyone but me), went for a swim in the icy winter water. I think Mkambati Falls, which fall directly into a small bay at high tide, is the world’s prettiest sight.

Unfortunately for us, the herds of antelope had gone inland, so all we saw were two eland, and spoor of various animals, including leopard.

This was the 19 kilometre trek, and we walked the length of the Mkambati Reserve, stopping frequently for photos, and chats, one place being the wreck of the Weolmi 303, a ship which went up on the rocks , and not down to Davy Jones’ locker – a good example that drinking and sailing do not mix well.

We lay in the sun after our lunch –yep, you’ve guessed it – steamed bread sandwiches, but sophisticated ones today: cheese, lettuce and tomato! I think we were disappointed that it wasn’t peanut butter. We dipped in the very refreshing turquoise sea, picked up shells, admired plants and birds, and then, with a bit of speed, because Bongani was worried about missing the chap who was to take us across, got to the Msikaba River. At the Msikaba, River, it was quite funny, we became a bit disorientated, because the tide was out, and the river was a mere few inches deep, spreading  across the sand, so we walked across, and we didn’t recognise it as the mouth of one the deepest river gorges in South Africa. Bongani had to confirm where we were, and that the ferry boat wasn’t necessary.

The last 3 km was uphill, and not what was wanted at the end of a long hike. First we popped into the Drifters’ Camp at Msikaba ( https://www.drifters.co.za/tours-and-lodges/greenfire-camps-wild-coast/ , and said hello to the manager, Lumka, and then we walked the last stretch up to the homestead, which was to be our home for the next two nights. Tea and the hugest loaf of steamed bread we’d seen to date, tea, and hot water for washing greeted us. Also, this village had electricity, so we happily charged our phones, not because we wanted to call anybody; we needed the phones charged to take photos.

An assortment of animals, cows, goats, chickens and cat milled around, the chickens and goats were shoo’ed out of our hut, and the dogs were given titbits to eat. Here we saw a perfect example of a ‘Transkei Dog’, essentially of the Africanis land race, the tough mongrel that survives, despite everything that is thrown at it (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPcEenJypp0 ). One of the dogs had a hole through his palate, so every time he breathed, you could hear the air gurgling. Other than being a bit ugly and a bit skinny, he was ok, and hopefully, the Transkei Animal Welfare Initiative, which is based in Port St Johns, will have a vet in the area sometime, and will have a look at it.

Friday, day 5 was our chill day, just a 7km walk. 3.5km to a lovely river at Mbaxeni (the ‘x’ is another click, sort of like sorting out saliva on your molars), and back again. The lovely unspoilt wilderness had two houses on it. The first one, an illegal cottage built on the most beautiful spot imaginable, the second one, about a kilometre away, being the beach cottage of the famous Khotso   (http://www.museum.za.net/index.php/imvubu-newsletter/100-khotso-legendary-herbalist). It is said that the whole area is protected by spirits requested by Khotso to do so. We were careful                         not to do anything that might have upset the guardians. We had lunch on a rocky ledge overlooking a crystal clear pool, and sat under a small waterfall, giggling and squealing like children.    

  On the way back we had a lesson in how not to mess with nature. A cow was calling her calf. We found the calf , asleep in a shallow river bed, nearly stepping on it, it blended in so well, and thought we’d help the mother by guiding ‘her’ calf back to her. Margie and I spent a good while being inept calf herders, then we realized that we were attempting to get it to the wrong mother. Local kids walking past, had their laugh of the day at our antics.              

Margie had a liitle calf.....

Saturday dawned, with a chill in the air. We had been so lucky with the weather, only having had a little bit of rain on day 3. Breakfast was served, good bye to our hostess was said, and we got into our taxi, to get back to our starting point at the Wild coast Casino at Mzamba.

A short detour was taken to the vulture viewing deck which overlooks the Msikaba gorge, several kilometers from the sea. Here there is a colony of Cape Vultures, a species which was fairly common right across Southern Africa, but which is now extinct in Swaziland, and is critically endangered in Namibia. We spent a good while marveling at them swooping in and around the cliffs, before getting back in our taxi and making our way back to ‘civilization’. 

As with the rest of tourism in the Wild Coast area, hikers doing the different Wild Coast hikes, became fewer and fewer in the last 12 years, due to lack of marketing, and therefore lack of word of mouth advertising. Where the villages had about 10 different hosts each, now they only have one. Hopefully, the tide will turn again, and hikers will once again become plentiful, adding much needed revenue and job creation to the Pondo people who live here, in their culture rich environment. 

Sustainable tourism is what the people need, not toll roads, mega bridges or mining activities, that will destroy their heritage.   https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2017-07-20-op-ed-resistance-is-0fertile-amadiba-agriculture-challenges-elite-mining-agenda/#.WX3paBV97IU .