A song of Songs

Nkosi sikelela I Afrika….God bless the Motherland

A prayer for God's blessing

Sontonga wrote the first verse and chorus of Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika, a prayer for God's blessing on the land and all its people, as a hymn for his school choir in 1897. Later in the same year, he composed the music.

The famous song has since been reworked and adopted as South Africa's national anthem, translated into numerous African languages, including Swahili, and incorporated into the national anthem of Zambia, Tanzania and Namibia.

The song was sung in public at the ordination of Reverend Boweni, a Shangaan Methodist minister, in 1899.

On 8 January 1912, at the first meeting of the South African Native National Congress, the forerunner of the African National Congress, it was sung after the closing prayer.

Solomon Plaatje, a founding member of the ANC, recorded the song in London in 1923. In 1925 the ANC adopted the song as the closing anthem for their meetings.

The song was published in a local newspaper, "Umthetheli Wabantu", on 11 June 1927, and was included in the Presbyterian Xhosa hymn book as well as a Xhosa poetry book for schools. Seven additional stanzas in Xhoza were added by the poet Samuel Mqhayi, and a Sesotho version was published by Moses Mphahlele in 1942.

Popularised at concerts in Johannesburg by Reverend JL Dube's Ohlange Zulu Choir, Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika was later adopted as an anthem at political meetings.

Read more: http://www.southafrica.info/about/history/sontonga100.htm#ixzz1kSLgtSMs

Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika
Original Xhosa Version

.. The first verse and chorus of this version are the original words composed by Enoch Sontonga in 1897. The remaining verses were added in 1927 by Samuel E Mqhayi.

Nkosi, sikelel' iAfrika;
Malupakam'upondo lwayo;
Yiva imitandazo yetu
Usisikelele.

Chorus

Yihla Moya, Yihla Moya,
Yihla Moya Oyingcwele

Sikelela iNkosi zetu;
Zimkumbule umDali wazo;
Zimoyike zezimhlouele,
Azisikelele.

Sikelel' amadol' esizwe,
Sikelela kwa nomlisela
Ulitwal'ilizwe ngomonde,
Uwusikilele.

Sikelel'amakosikazi;
Nawo onk'amanenekazi;
Pakamisa wonk'umtinjana
Uwusikilele.

Sikelela abafundisi
Bemvaba zonke zelilizwe;
Ubatwese ngoMoya Wako
Ubasikelele.

Sikelel'ulimo nemfuyo;
Gxota zonk'indlala nezifo;
Zalisa ilizwe ngempilo
Ulisikelele

Sikelel'amalinga etu
Awomanyana nokuzaka,
Awemfundo nemvisiswano
Uwasikelele.

Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika;
Cima bonk' ubugwenxa bayo
Nezigqito, nezono zayo
Uyisikelele.

God Bless Africa
Original Lovedale English Translation

Lord, bless Africa;
May her horn rise high up;
Hear Thou our prayers And bless us.

Chorus

Descend, O Spirit,
Descend, O Holy Spirit.

Bless our chiefs
May they remember their Creator.
Fear Him and revere Him,
That He may bless them.

Bless the public men,
Bless also the youth
That they may carry the land with patience
and that Thou mayst bless them.

Bless the wives
And also all young women;
Lift up all the young girls
And bless them.

Bless the ministers
of all the churches of this land;
Endue them with Thy Spirit
And bless them.

Bless agriculture and stock raising
Banish all famine and diseases;
Fill the land with good health
And bless it.

Bless our efforts
of union and self-uplift,
Of education and mutual understanding
And bless them.

Lord, bless Africa
Blot out all its wickedness
And its transgressions and sins,
And bless it.

http://www.endarkenment.com/kwanzaa/nkosi/versions.htm#zulu

During the late 80’s the south African political struggle was reaching its all-time high and I was fully awakening to the harsh and dangerous realities of being a young black youth in South Africa, up until that time all I cared about was school and my sport,  the rest seemed to be normal. The news that so and so was shot dead by security forces or a house was petrol bombed was daily news and a normal feature in my daily routine, Funerals were a weekend feature so by virtue of residing just off the main road leading to the cemetery  I would watch the funeral caravan on the way to the cemetery almost every saturday morning when a had late game to attend.

Funerals were a big sign of solidarity and a show of human strength and unity; it was probably the only mass gathering that the security forces could not prohibit or prevent as the masses or families had to pay their last respects to their loved ones. It was during these gatherings that new songs would be taught and learned, messages and political information would be shared and passed around as to what is happening in other parts of the country so far as the struggle is concerned, what is the word from underground and those in leadership would get an opportunity to mingle and strengthen the local structures with information. For most of us it was all about being part of historical moments and experiencing the vibe, it was about comradeship and socio-political consciousness but in that entire euphoria one thing was clear to us and maybe to some extend to the security forces as well that those were the big drivers of support for political and civic movements in terms grassroots participation.

So it goes without saying that I eventually joined the masses, we would stand along the road and wait for the procession, bandanas on the head or wrapped around the neck (for the tear gas canisters which were widely used to disperse the crowds), jerseys wrapped around the waist (in preparation for the long day and evening), jeans and rubberised flat shoes (for comfort in running and chanting) occasionally we would carry long crafted sticks (just so to show that we are ready for battle and to complete the militant look), this was the result of the hearsay told from night vigil encounters with forces of the night and our own observation from all this time standing on the side lines.

To be able to ferry large crowds open vans were used of which mostly drivers were forced to join the one-way caravan, so there I was seating at the back of an open canopy van with comrades singing and chanting slogans with clinched fists raised high, it was a blissful moment as people were in a frenzy like state singing songs of emancipation at times questioning the higher power of what have we done to deserve this.  The crowd consisted of mostly young men and women who were eager and willing to make a change in our land and add their voices in for an end to an unjust system.

On the way we would pass state security force stationed at various strategic points, fully armed and ready to execute the commands of their superiors and punish any behaviour deems out of line, this was also an indication that the way back would not be as wide and gunshot free.  

The one experience that  still lingers in my memory even today was the moment when the coffin was lowered in its final resting place, a song was sang in respect and dedication of that moment and all the people seemed to be in one pain and under one spell, voices lowered and clinched fists raised above the sky.

Hamba kahle Mkhonto

We mkhonto, mkhonto wesizwe

Thina abantu bomkhonto sizimisele

Ukubabulala wona lama bhunu.

In English it would go like so:

Go well our spear

The spear, the spear of the nation

We the spear of the nation, it is our intention

To kill those propelling the system (Boers)

This song made this moment very significant, intense and very reflective in a sense that here lay our comrade life-less where the rest of masses present are pledging that this death will not be in vain, it was an assurance and doubtless conviction that this was, still is and always will be a worthy course to put your life on the line to advance a noble cause that will lead to the awakening and the emancipation of your people from perpetual servitude. “It is better to die for an ideal that will leave than to leave for an ideal that will die…”Bantu Biko

Just when I thought I have seen and heard it all, a deep soft voice soared and invaded the mournful sky shaking its very foundation and sanity. Nkosi sikelel’ iAfrika!!! Maluphakanyisw’uphondo lwayo…!!!

From the first moment they sang this song I understood the prayerful nature of this song and its spiritual nerve, it linked that moment with all the painful experiences and suffering that black Africa has endured in the hands of another and their own, I then also understood the universality of that moment stretching to the diaspora beyond boabab roots. We were standing and looking at a grave but this song was for all graves, widows and widowers, sons and daughters, the displaced and the dispossessed, the lynched and mutilated, a hymn par excellence that evoked all the senses of my being,  in that moment I concluded that ours is journey of generations not of time, a journey which its starting mark has faded over time and its finish line cannot be physically marked or cast in some stone, it is there in our hearts passed on to us by those who gathered around the first grave shading tears vowing not to give up, by the time we sang the last stanza there was a tinge of joy in my heart which stretched my dry lips in realising that a mere mortal man no matter what machinery is at the disposal would not put a full stop to a sentence written and constructed by the gods.

Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika
Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo
Yiva imathandazo yethu
Nkosi Sikelela
Thina lusapho lwayo

Morena boloka sechaba sa heso
O fedise dintwa le matshwenyeho
Morena boloka sechaba sa heso,
O fedise dintwa le matshwenyeho.

O se boloke, o se boloke,
O se boloke, o se boloke.
Sechaba sa heso, Sechaba sa heso.
O se boloke morena se boloke,
O se boloke sechaba, se boloke.
Sechaba sa heso, sechaba sa heso

Woza Moya (woza, woza),
Woza Moya (woza, woza),
Woza Moya, Oyingcwele.
Usisikelele, Thina lusapho lwayo.

Ma kube njalo! Ma kube njalo!
Kude kube ngunaphakade.
Kude kube ngunaphakade!

This was the song as I remember it; the two last paragraphs are the most spiritual part of this hymn, it is what an Amen is to a prayer. This is a call to our guardian spirit to descend and guide us and seal these words with a presence.

Now we leave in an ERA where the most spiritual part of our song is chopped and sacrificed, the deeper meaning of it is lost at least to me and I also see it in national gatherings when people are singing what is now the national anthem, the intensity and the spiritual connection is diluted. Maybe a new colourful song for a new rainbow nation would have been a much better option.  

Like any other thing that was destroyed and stolen in our holly caves, on our sacred mountains, on our fertile soil, in our fathers graves and tombs, beneath our still waters, in our simple and innocent minds, in our trusting hearts and our human spirit of UBUNTU shall be regain…we shall not forget!!!!

Our struggle is also a strugle against forgetting(memory)...!!! kuyo yonke lento masinga libali...lelizwe elethu!! 

Aluta Continua!!

Woza moya oyincwele!

Woza moya oyincwele!!

Ma kube njalo! Ma kube njalo!
Kude kube ngunaphakade.
Kude kube ngunaphakade