‘Where are you from?’ is a simple enough question to answer but for me, a Zimbabwean woman living in a different country, it can produce 3 different answers namely my current place, my birthplace and my ancestral origins which should be the real ‘home.’
In the Manyika context, there is mhatso (room or house, or place to live) and there is khanye, home.
This concept has always fascinated me because of my definition of home vs the Ubuntu definition. For many, home is, or at least should be, the place where judgement is set aside and acceptance wafts through the air like warm and hearty comfort food on sad wintery nights. We like to think of home as safe, happy and good, but is this the experience many of us have?
The ‘Hannah’ concept of home may not be in sync with the African idea of home, I must confess. For me, home is where one lets their hair down, though in the African context it would be safer to say where one lets their afro be! I believe home is the place where one is not afraid to take off their shoes despite what their feet smell like because there is a solution, not judgement. Home is where one can cry without reservation or laugh like there is no tomorrow and until their stomach hurts without worrying about drawing “attention.” They can dance like no one is watching, even though the whole clan watches.
Home is that place, that special space that brings a sense of rest and peace.
For the African reader, this definition may not ring quite as true because home implies the place one’s ancestors are from and at best, where they are buried and their spirits look after. It is Kumusha for the Zezuru tribe, and Khanye for the Manyika and Ndau, the tribes I was familiar with growing up.
While this makes sense for those whose families have not migrated in the past 200 years, for me, that’s not the straightforward case.
Read – Africa is Home – A Creative Nonfiction by Sinoxolo Odidi Mahlatshana (South Africa)
For the longest time, as a child, I thought home was where my mbuya/gogo (my father’s grandmother) was, but I also come from a paternal social system where even after being abandoned before birth, a child belongs to their father. So, Gogo’s home was not really our home; our home was actually in Mozambique, where sekuru/khulu (my father’s absent father) was suspected to be from. However, upon his death, my father who had lived and worked in Harare was given his ‘eternal home’ in Chiyadzwa, Mutare, his mother’s home, where her brothers were; a home he never in his living years, considered home.
That’s how it rolls in my culture.
Now you can imagine how complicated it is for me who has no attachment to the places I am told are ‘home.’
The Anglicans and Methodists of Zimbabwe have a funeral song which goes:
Handina musha panyika, (I do not have a home on earth)
Musha wangu uri Kure (My home is far away)
Zita rayo, ndi-Zion (Its name is Zion)
Inopenya nguva dzose (x2) (It shines all the time)
I love this song because it is a reminder of the temporary nature of the ‘homes’ we hold dear in our current state of living. For many religious believers, we are in phase one of home and are preparing for the real ‘home.’ We are preparing through specified good works or faith in the Creator. It also makes me think of how a home is not necessarily a physical space but a concept which is greater than walls and a roof above our heads.
Read – A Place Called Elsewhere – A Creative Nonfiction by Chidinma Nnalue, Nigeria
Have you ever been stuck in a bad situation with someone; a parent, a friend or a romantic partner and just felt whole, secure and weirdly happy despite the prevailing circumstances? I think there are some people whose energies or aura, as some would put it, just merge seamlessly with ours and truly make us feel ‘at home.’ In their company, embarrassing moments can be bearable if not downright laughable; vulnerability happens without second guessing or filters to make our truth more palatable; whilst the aspects we would consider ‘ugly parts of ourselves’ are not the main focus. It is with these people – our tribe, regardless of relation by blood or none – that we are celebrated as well as supported, and corrections of our faults are given in the spirit of love and the desire to see us winning.
It may sound like a walk in the park to identify these mystical and magical individuals, but the reality is that despite our advancements in communications such as social media which brings people together from different parts of the world in real-time, and the ability to migrate easier than ever before in the history of humankind, people are finding themselves homeless, literally and figuratively.
Many people are like lonely satellites looking for home despite being surrounded by other people who seem to also feel the same. It is heartbreaking. I often wonder if there is a solution. How do we find a home that embraces us, faults and all, yet helps us to grow to be our best versions without making us feel like projects? How do we meet those people that make us glow at just the very thought of them; people who not only sing our praises but motivate us to get those praises in the first place?
Read – The Perfects That Define My People – An Article by Gana Jemimah, Nigeria
I believe the way is to be at home with ourselves first. If you believe, as I do, that we are spiritual beings having this physical experience, then the first home we have is our body or our minds, where we have quiet and private conversations.
How do we treat ourselves? Hopefully, we are not consistently berating ourselves and pointing at what we deem to be our ‘ugly bits’ each time we face ourselves in the mirror. If you do, know that you are not alone, and there is good news; it is probably learned behaviour. The great part of learned behaviour is that it can be unlearnt!
It is possible to unlearn self-rejection and feel at home in one’s mind and body; to settle in and be at total peace. It can even be such an adventure discovering the beauty of the image of the Creator at your very core. To find your creative self, your non-judgmental self and be at home. Once this home is found and accepted, it will send out a glow like a lighthouse which calls others to it for safety.
I have learnt that it is in becoming a home, that we find our homes, and I hope you can give it a try and find your true home, here on earth.
This Creative Nonfiction was published in the September 2022 edition of the WSA magazine.
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At first I thought you have too many homes, then discovered you actually have no home… but later concluded that you are your home!
Home, is aptly put by the writer, depends on context really particularly for Africans in general, and Zimbabweans in particular.
One can only imagine, how the adjustment was for Africans captured into slavery back then. They possibly hoped to go back “home” at some point in time. Then there are present day Zimbabweans scattered world over hoping to return “home” when the socioeconomic situation allows. Needless to say, they have “homes” in whichever country they are in presently.
Ja ne! …… home is were the heart is (and sometimes u have to let the heart travel a bit to its multiple homes and let it find pleasure in the simpliest of things…e.g. a good run for me, a cup of coffee or maybe just a nice article to read like this one) …. now about the unlearn part ~ I am a firm believer that u can both be a masterpiece and a Work in Progress simultaneously…. thou thru life we are never complete what really matters is the highs we hit (no matter the measurement bar ) and the positive impacts that comes thereof …. more of the perfect imperfect u conundrum……