It is almost that season of the year, where the young xhosa boy prepares himself for his right of passage into manhood. At the peak of the coldest times of the winter, one that has been reported this year to be the coldest yet.

I am of the Xhosa nation, I come after a long line of xhosa men and women, a generation of great people amaQoco.

I too am a man and and descendent of these people. I am both frustrated and saddened at the level of ridicule and mockery our ancient custom has been made of on national platforms, calling this well sought after and protected practice inhumane and backward. I am saddened that our leaders have given into western interventions. They have opened up a practice only known by us, to national scrutiny. I am disappointed at the minimal support of our Chiefs and Traditional Leaders in their lack of representation in preserving and protecting this practice.

I remain proud and resolute of my identity, each year when this time approaches.

I am filled with joy, pride and a sense of honour as I am reminded of my journey.

I am reminded of the mixed emotions and fear of the unknown.

I am reminded of the tear my mother shed, with a face filled with solicitous expression, as I was leaving home and will return a month later a man.

It was within this very month when an entire village of men sang songs of celebration, treading behind me as I too was to take up my position. You see for me this practice resonates beyond a custom or a right of passage, for me it speaks to my identity, one where I am able to find myself, where I am able to realise the true extent of independence and an attitude of being able to listen to those that have gone before you. Gain wisdom , gain perspective, be taught how a man handles himself and how he is to be in society. This practice for me was not one that felt as a death sentence. Be it as it may the likelihood of death is possible but equally so it’s a practice that gives life and character.

I feel saddened at this moment because this year will be the first time I miss this season as I will be away in Washington DC, but excited at the prospects of this opportunity of growing in my Leadership and engage with various leaders and pioneers.

I can already see the rising spirit within my village, I can already hear the resonating sound and echo of the ulilation of the proud mothers ( amazibazana) .

I recall the unifying spirit of all men who came together to pave the way for their younger brothers.

I feel excited just thinking about the anxiety in the initiates heart as he is about to stand and Declare his manhood.

I feel a sense of honour as I recall my moment when I stood on a mountain hill and shouted with amour propre that I too am a man.. “Ndiyindoda” .

I recall my father telling me that the ways of world will now change, that now I had elevated to adulthood and the time to be irresponsible was over.

This is what this practice means to me.

In the discourses of living conditions, treatment , nutrition and well being of initiates , I am very quick to say many speak on something they don’t know anything about. Speaking as someone myself who has equally gone through the processes, these young men are well looked after and protected.

I am aware that I may be speaking from a position of bias due to my experiences but I feel it is important that the whole point of this process is the wellbeing of the initiates, they are at the centre of the process and it is to be of importance that they are well taken care of.

I speak once again of the level of care I recieved, I speak highly of the concern of those who were looking after me, and at no point am I able to say this is an environment to abuse , torture and induce pain on these young men. This is a process to celebrate their heritage and identity, this is a practice that builds men of courage and character.

I dispell any discourse that the agenda is to abuse or be sadistic.

I recall a moment when I felt I wouldn’t survive, a young city boy who had never spent a night in the wilderness left all alone to realise his potential, my bed was the dusty floor that was cleaned up with shovels close to a thorntree.

My only source of warmth was a single blanket and a fire that blazed into the night.

My only source of security was a plastic held down by stones, covering the approximately 60cm high entrance.

No where in my wildest imagination would I have believed, I am capable to endure such , I would stand and sit on rocks all day and watch as people move in the village, I would stare into the distance as my family members would move around my homestead.

My only source of entertainment was the sound of cars driving past on the R61, as the sounds of car engines , trucks changing down and busses would echo through the mountain valley, I would listen to sound fade away as they went out of sight.

I had no means of telling the time but watch the sun move over head and down into the distance behind the mountains it would disappear and night began.

As a boy who grew up in the surburbs and went to a former Model C School I was intrigued and consumed by where do I bath and brush my teeth.

Well the slow cold stream of water running down the river was my bathtub. My best toothpaste became the ashes of the fire that had burnt from the night before.

I had become a man!

I would have never imagined to enjoy the presence of nature and transitioning into manhood with lessons of GRATITUDE , Resilience, humility and perseverance.

I had spent my time, and now instead of the tear that trinkled down my mothers face it was now my very own that soon filled my cheeks, at the sight of her face as I had stood the trials, I had stood the fears and I had overcome the greatest event I had dreaded my entire teenage life.

It had been declared that I’d be named Zwelivumile, a name found in royal families meaning the nations have heeded to the call, they had agreed and paved the way into my manhood.

It is in this period and in my absence that I tell those who will soon follow in those very same footsteps to be Determined, Fearless, Willing and most of all be Emotionally ready as their lives will never be the same again beyond this point.

Qulaaaa Kwedini!!