Sifiso Mxolisi Ndlovu
This chapter focuses on the role of powerful and authoritative African women who participated in mainstream networks of power and politics in the area now referred to as the province of KwaZulu‐Natal. They exercised their power during two distinct periods – preconquest and during colonial times – but they had to contend with male cultural brokers, intellectuals, and ideologues who controlled the production of knowledge. Rival monarchies such as the Ndwandwe and the Zulu did not need military strategies and sophisticated weapons of the day to destroy each other. They also employed cultural brokers and ideologues to achieve their aims and objectives. The resulting battles for minds meant that the word, and later the pen, was mightier than the assegai and the shield. To prove this point, I will pay particular attention to Queen Mother Ntombazi of the Ndwandwe. In his book Emperor Shaka the Great (1979: xxxiii) Mazisi Kunene notes that Queen Mother Ntombazi was “one of the politically most influential women of the pre‐Shakan and Shakan eras.”
Probably one of the best‐known powerful women of the region was Queen Regent Mantathisi of the Batlokwa, who assumed power during the turbulent years in southern Africa, in the period 1815–1824 (Etherington 2001). The Batlokwa warrior queen regent, together with her contemporaries, Queen Mother Ntombazi of the Ndwandwe, Queen Regent Mnkabayi of amaZulu and later, Queen Regent Novimbi okaMsweli also of amaZulu,1 challenged misconceptions propagated through feminist discourse that African women – as victims of patriarchal oppression since time immemorial – did not exercise power and authority in their respective societies. Jordan Ngubane asserts:
There were other great luminaries in the galaxy of female stars. Ntombazi among the Ndwandwe ordered her son, Zwide, to behead the princes he conquered in the battle. She stuck their heads on pegs and displayed them in a special hut where she kept the state medicines of the mighty Ndwandwe people. Mnkabayi kaJama once commanded the Zulu army and was an effective kingmaker. Across the Drakensburg, there was the great and dreaded Mantantisi of the Batlokwa, the mother of Sigonyela. A brilliant and fearless general, she spread terror, destruction and carnage over much of what later was to be Southern Transvaal and the Orange Free State. (Ngubane 1976: 134)
I have also raised similar issues in a chapter in relation to Regent Queen Mnkabayi ka Jama (Ndlovu 2008). Using isiZulu language, izibongo, and oral traditions as major sources of information in constituting world sense, mapping historical changes, and interpreting the social structure of the Zulu Kingdom, I argue that Regent Queen Mnkabayi exercised considerable power and authority as a very senior member of the Zulu royal house (Ndlovu 2008).2 Another powerful woman whose character is captured by existing oral traditions and izibongo is Queen Nandi kaMbengi, King Shaka’s mother. Kunene argues that she was one of most famous women in Zulu history, not only because she was King Shaka’s mother but also on account of her own personal qualities (Kunene 1957).
Though Ngubane claims that Queen Mother Ntombazi ordered her son, Zwide ka Langa, to behead rivals of the Ndwandwe monarchy, which include amaZulu, this chapter shows that this was not so. The chapter also highlights that both izibongo zika Ntombazi and oral traditions of the Ndwandwe, including the oral traditions of the queen mother of the Ndwandwe, were obliterated by their rivals, amaZulu. The chapter analyzes why they did this and considers the fact that the oral traditions of her contemporaries, Regent Queen Mnkabayi and Queen Nandi among others, are readily available today. For example, izibongo zika Nandi, as composed by Magolwane kaMkhathini Jiyane, reads as follows:
uSomnqeni
uMathanga kawahlangani,
Ahlangana ngokubona umyeni
uGedegede lwasenhla nenkundla
Uphoko‐phalala kuMaqhwakazi
Angibonanga uphoko ukuphalala
Umboni wamabhungez’ uSontanti
uSontanti onjengowakwaGwazana
Udl’ ubisi lwenkomo enezimpondo
Ukwesaba abayisengayo
Intombi kaMbengi weNguga
kaSoyengwase kaMaqamede
uXebe woMhlathuze
Mfaz’ ontangade zingamadoda
Uyishaye yanyus’ iSabiza
Obengabafana base Nguga
Abeza beluhayizana!3
Izibongo zika Nandi captures the complex three‐pronged relationship between mother (Nandi), father (Senzangakhona), and son (Shaka). Like her contemporary and sister‐in‐law, Regent Queen Mnkabayi, Queen Nandi had indeed a masculine character that imbongi alludes to as “uSomnqeni,” “uSontanti,” and “mfazi ontangade zingamadoda.” The prefix “so” in isiZulu represents a male while the prefix “no” is used if this is not the case, and therefore the first line, “uSomnqeni,” should read “uNomnqeni.” Nandi was a powerful woman of iron will. These qualities are revealed in izibongo zika Nandi, and therefore African women are not perennial weaklings as is often observed in various literatures. Yes, she was masculine but this does not qualify her as a “savage” woman as some of the white colonizers, travelers, writers, and amateur historians would like us to believe (Isaacs 1936). She was extrovert, suspicious in nature, and quarrelsome in fighting for her rights and was neither passive nor submissive to Prince Shaka’s father, and hence imbongi says of her “uGedegede lwasenhla nenkundla” (Kunene 1957). Perhaps this was an account of her bitterness about life, which had not treated her very kindly; together with her son, she was unceremoniously ejected from esiKlebeni (the royal palace) by Senzangakhona, the Zulu monarch. The line “Uyishaye yanyus’ iSabiza” depicts the tough life faced by both mother and son who did not have the support of the Zulu monarch. Though homeless, Queen Nandi did all she could do to protect her young son, showering him with love, tenderness, and care. Later the Mthethwa monarchy, under Dingiswayo, offered shelter to both mother and son (Kunene 1967;4 Vilakazi 1939).
We do not have empowering oral traditions that provide us with analytical tools that will enable us to reconstruct the life history of Queen Mother Ntombazi. What we have are representations constructed by Zulu cultural brokers and ideologues in precolonial times. There is a growing literature on women, power, and society in Africa. In The Cultural Unity of Black Africa, the Senegalese writer Cheik Anta Diop (1978) provides an insight into African warrior queens in defense of their respective nations (see also Van Sertima 1985). He observes that most societies that are not European are mainly matrilineal, that is, the lines of descent are traced through the mother. Hence Diop’s observation that “it is the man who brings dowry to the woman” (1978: 11). This proves, if proof were needed, that the women in these old societies had rights that were respected. John Henrik Clarke takes the view that in Africa the woman’s place was not only with her family but she often ruled nations with unquestioned authority. Many African women were great militarists and on occasion led armies in battle. Long before they knew of the existence of Europe, Africans had developed a way of life whereby men were secure enough to let women advance as far as their talents would take them (Clarke 1984: 123). During the rise of the great dynasties in Egypt, Kush, and Ethiopia, African women made impressive strides and some became heads of state. Diop notes that during the entire period of the pharaohs in Egypt African women enjoyed complete freedom, in contrast to the segregated lives experienced by European women of antiquity and classical times, whether Greek or Roman (Clarke 1984; Diop 1978).
Queen Hatshepsut of Egypt (1505–1485 BCE), the first warrior queen in African history, ruled Egypt for 21 years in spite of the enmity and intrigue of her stepson and his adherents; her reign was a calm interlude between the old Egypt, still bound to the Nile Valley, which kept peace with its neighbors, and the new mightier Egypt of war and conquest that was still to come. One of African’s warrior queens, Queen Makeda of what is now known as Ethiopia is better known in history as the queen of Sheba. There are conflicting interpretations of her life in many books including the Bible, the Talmud, and the Qur’an. She also features in the legends of Syria, Israel, Egypt, and Ethiopia. Her fight was more diplomatic than military. In southern Africa the warrior queen Ndzinga of Angola never accepted the Portuguese conquest of her country and was always on the military offensive. Other warrior queens included Madame Tinubu of Nigeria, Kaipkire of the Herero, and Yaa Asantewa, the queen mother of the Ashanti (Clarke 1984).
Onaiwu Ogbomo observes that a number of hints in the oral tradition and documents from all regions of the African continent show that its people were once matriarchal. Now 80 percent of Africa live within some form of patriarchy. While some writers have argued that matriarchy was invented by males to demonstrate the failure of female rule, Ogbomo contends that what happened in Africa was that oral traditions as relayed by men from generation to generation began for each community where males began to rule. Rather than discrediting matriarchies, African oral tradition mostly ignored them. According to him, true matriarchy includes (1) female rule; (2) matrilinealism, that is, tracing relationship through the mother; (3) matrilocality, whereby related females dominated settlements, adult males being mostly strangers; and (4) a pantheon of goddesses (Ogbomo 2005: 354–356).
As an example, we no longer worship, speak, or write about our goddesses in southern Africa even though their rich oral traditions exist in the present. AmaZulu, or Africans in South Africa, no longer worship the goddess Nomkhubulwana. As Kunene correctly points out, Nomkhubulwana is the goddess of change, continuity, and ultimate balance of life. Ceremonies in honor of her activated positive forces of growth during precolonial times. In a world devastated by natural forces such as droughts, famine, and flooding, Nomkhubulwana intervened to restore the balance and to activate the forces of rebirth and growth for she, as the giver of rich life to the community, represents the seed of being (Kunene 1981). Hence, there is nothing superstitious or irrational about the concept of rebirth, as colonial discourse on African cosmology would have us believe.
Queen Mother Ntombazi of the Ndwandwe was one of the most powerful queen mothers in southeastern Africa, the area now referred to as KwaZulu‐Natal. She was probably born during the mid‐eighteenth century and was effectively in charge of the Ndwandwe kingdom ruled by her son Zwide. Not much is written about her, and existing oral traditions seem to portray negative images about her. But this should not deter those who are interested in knowing the meaning, the power, and the authority yielded by a queen mother in any given precolonial African society. The Ndwandwe kingdom was the dominant force from 1750 to 1820 in what is now KwaZulu‐Natal. The kingdom’s role has been neglected because its history has been overshadowed and obliterated by the successor Zulu state. Historians who study the pre‐Shakan and post‐Shakan period, including myself, are of the view that, in our quest to liberate the African voice and to recover our neglected precolonial history, the Ndwandwe should be at the epicenter of such history. In this regard, the Zulu Kingdom emerged as one of several important African states during this era. But it was the product rather than the cause of a long period of political upheaval, the so‐called Mfecane, which was allegedly fermented by the “bloodthirsty” King Shaka ka Senzangakhona.
In most historical texts, Mzilikazi kaMashobane Khumalo is usually seen as a migrant and refugee from the Zulu Kingdom. More accurately, he moved away to escape upheavals caused by the wars between the Ndwandwe, Mthethwa, and Zulu monarchies. Others are of the view that the career of his kingdom was far more disruptive than that of the Zulu empire, but I do not think this is necessarily the case. Also, the powerful Gaza kingdom under Soshangane in southern and central Mozambique is another state that has been neglected in South African history, even though it exercised considerable influence on the history of what are now the Mpumalanga and Limpopo provinces in South Africa. In terms of the geographical area that this kingdom occupied, it was the biggest of the African states of this period. Since both Mzilikazi and Soshangane were related to the Ndwandwe, my argument is that the Ndwandwe were connected with the migrations into southern Africa during precolonial times and therefore it is critical to study and write their history. These issues are discussed in most of the historical novels that are important in producing historical knowledge on Queen Mother Ntombazi. They will be analyzed later in this chapter.
The cultural obliteration and destruction of Queen Mother Ntombazi’s image and status occurred immediately after King Zwide was defeated by his perennial rival King Shaka in the early 1820s. Because both Shaka and Zwide were prototypes who believed in militaristic expansion through conquering other polities, I believe that Ogbomo’s argument about the production of knowledge by male ideologues can be extended to cultural brokers and intellectuals representing the ruling Zulu elites. After the defeat of the Ndwandwe kingdom, the Zulu elites made it a point to erase historical knowledge about the Ndwandwe. This also explains why nineteenth‐century oral traditions characterize Queen Mother Ntombazi of the Ndwandwe in exceedingly negative terms.
Oral traditions on Queen Mother Ntombazi are scarce. The existing ones emphasize what turns out to be a chilling two‐dimensional image. While oral tradition and izibongo of women with rare ability, such as Regent Queen Mnkabayi and Regent Queen Mantathisi the warrior queen of Batlokwa, are well preserved and accessible in vernacular languages, that is, in both isiZulu and Sesotho, it is inexplicable why izibongo zika Ntombazi are not readily available in the present (Ndlovu 2008, 2017). It is also worth noting that existing oral traditions about her emphasize a violent and chilling image. She is often portrayed as a cruel, domineering queen mother, a sorcerer who issued a standing order to the Ndwandwe army to behead her son’s arch‐rivals after each battle. In his historical epic Emperor Shaka the Great, Kunene uses oral traditions to describe her:
Zwide was the king of the Ndwandwes of the Nxumalos.
He was son of the frightful Queen Ntombazi.
In a house set aside for the purpose
She put the skulls of many famous victims.
Everywhere along the walls gazed the skulls of once great‐men …
Queen Ntombazi was, like a wizard, feared by her own children.
It was she who egged Zwide on to interminable battles.
She made him pursue all victims into their fortresses of stone.
Never before in Nguniland was known such a disgrace. (Kunene 1979: 70–71)
Zuluist cultural brokers, ideologues, and knowledge producers who operated in precolonial times obviously played a central role in the construction of oral traditions that promoted negative stereotypes about Queen Mother Ntombazi and the Ndwandwe monarchy. These destructive images were later used by Kunene, Ngubane, and others in the production of historical knowledge about the queen mother. Apparently she kept the decapitated heads of rival monarchs in her royal household to serve as proof that her beloved son’s reign was not threatened. These oral traditions were recorded by James Stuart5 in October 1921, when he interviewed Socwatsha ka Phaphu, who asserted the following about “Indhlu kaNtombazi kaLanga”:
Indhlu yake ya y’akisa okwezindhlu zonke nje. uZwide ke, u beti, um’ e bulele ‘inkosi enye, kuqunyw’ ikanda layo, li yo panyekw’ emsamo kwa Ntombazi. Onk’ amakos’ a ye w’ ahlula, wa ye w’nze njalo. uZwide, amakanda u wa lengisa nje, ku kon’ inkata ye‐mp’ emsamo. U ya ba qonela. U ya wa nyatela. Kutiwa kwa ku nga ngeni muntu ku leyo‐ndhlu. U bet’ o ngenayo, e sa fak’ ikanda nje, a juluk’ a be manzi, ati minci, a‐we pansi, ngoba ku leng’ izinhloko za makosi lap’ emsamo. Se ku isiga, lap’ umuntu ebizw’ e sendhlini‐ umntwana, ingabe uyise, noma umnewabo ini‐ u‐ti: “Kade ngi ku biz’ u nge‐zi ngob’ u‐ti ngi nge ngene lapho endhlini, ngob’ u kwa Ntombazi ka Langa, lapa ku nga ngenwa? A ngi ngene kona lapo, ngi ku tshaye!” Babuze‐ke a ba ng’aziyo, ba‐ti: “Ha(w)u! Kwa Ntombazi lapa, kwa ku nga ngenwa, ini?” Se be tata lona leli elikade li kulunywa.6
The second part of Socwatsha ka Phaphu’s testimony is about the queen mother’s royal house which was supposedly a den of occult practices, and it is also about the Zulu proverb specifically referring to the queen mother of the Ndwandwe. Stuart also published Socwatsha ka Phaphu’s version about “Indhlu kaNtombazi kaLanga” 15 years after collecting the testimony. The passage quoted here is also published as a very short chapter in uTulasizwe (Stuart 1936: 46), one of Stuart’s isiZulu primers, which were later extensively used in teaching isiZulu language and literature. Subsequently, the queen mother has been represented in oral traditions collected by Stuart as irrational, superstitious, and worthy of destruction. The existence of occult practices and alleged widespread of witchcraft practice within the Ndwandwe royal house as elaborated by Stuart might perhaps be linked to the relentless historic obsession of Europeans with the alleged widespread practice of witchcraft in Africa. In this discourse African women are often portrayed as sorcerers with no ethical regard for the well‐being of the broader society, hence the views expressed in the last three lines of the oral traditions on Ntombazi. Apparently, there exists an isiZulu saying based on the inaccessibility of Ntombazi’s quarters, “Ha (w) u! Kwa Ntombazi lapa, kwa ku nga ngenwa, ini?” Security to the royal household was very tight, in particular where the king, queen, and queen mother resided, and this is still the case today.
John Wright (1989), Carolyn Hamilton (1998), and others have analyzed the strength and weaknesses of Stuart’s systematic collection of African oral traditions. I shall not repeat their convincing arguments about the importance of Stuart’s work in relation to writing the precolonial history of southern Africa. I have also commented elsewhere about the use of historical novels by African intellectuals who made a conscious decision to use vernacular to write their own stories (Ndlovu 2017). In all the prefaces of his isiZulu primers, Stuart acknowledges the important role of his “informants” or of public intellectuals, such as Socwatsha ka Phaphu, as active producers of knowledge about African societies (see also Wright 2015). He also highlights the obvious fact about his work – that it is not definitive – as he has just scratched the surface. In this regard, note the following standard paragraph in the preface of his isiZulu primers:
Izindaba‐ke, ne zinganekwane, ne zibongo, ne ziga, nani‐nani, konk’ o ku butane lapa, na kwe ziny’ izincwadi e zi kanye na le, kwa tatwa ku Bant’ abamnyama. Le nhlanganisela eyabo. Izinhlobonhlobo ze zindab’ ezilibazisayo ne zihlekisayo, ezivusayo ne zisizayo, zigcwele kubona, kakulu kwa badala. Okuningi, o ku sal’ emuva. (Stuart 1936: 5)
Socwatsha ka Phaphu, in his oral testimony recorded in the James Stuart Archives, emphasized that:
KwaZulu izindaba ezindala bezingaxoxwa, ngob’ [umuntu] esekela igazi lake lingacitheki … umuntu kwaZulu wayehlala esekele igazi lake. Ngoba umuntu ukhuluma ngomlomo nje uzakufa, ngoba kuthiwa ukhuluma lokhu, wa ku thathaphi. (Stuart 1936: 5)
He asserts that freedom of speech was curtailed within the Zulu Kingdom. He emphasizes that it is difficult to dabble in politics that dares to question the authority of those in power. The implications are that supporters of the rival Ndwandwe monarchy, as Zulu subjects after Shaka ka Senzangakhona had defeated Zwide ka Langa, were not free to express their views. Socwatsha ka Phaphu’s oral testimony may also explain the scarcity of oral traditions relating to Queen Mother Ntombazi, including the fact that existing Zulu oral traditions are extremely negative toward the Ndwandwe kingdom.
If Socwatsha ka Phaphu’s oral testimony is contextualized within the broader precolonial history of southeastern Africa, one might agree with Wright, who posits that the history of the Ndwandwe kingdom is one of the great casualties of the particular circumstance in which southern Africa’s precolonial pasts were narrated and written from the 1820s onward. According to Wright (2008, 2010), the break‐up of the Ndwandwe kingdom under King Sikhunyane ka Zwide, after its defeat under King Shaka ka Senzangakhona in 1826, destroyed its ruling elite and ruptured the processes by which memories of the kingdom’s past were being transmitted orally by intellectuals linked to the elite. This is also reflected in the lines of izibongo zika Shaka: “Ntonga emmnyama kaMjokwane; Ize noZwide kwabakwaNdwandwe, Ize noNomhlanjana kaZwide, Ize noSikhunyana kaZwide” (Cope 1968: 113).
Furthermore, Wright contends that King Zwide ka Langa and the Ndwandwe kingdoms were occasionally mentioned in white settler historical writings from the 1820s onward, but always very briefly and in passing, and usually as role players in the rise and expansion of the Zulu Kingdom. Mostly the references were often confusing, to one or other of three particular episodes: the wars fought in the late 1810s between Zwide ka Langa and Dingiswayo ka Jobe, king of the Mthethwa and patron of the young Prince Shaka; the wars fought around 1819 to around 1820 between Zwide and Shaka, wars that were portrayed as having ended in defeat of the Ndwandwe by the Zulu; and the battle fought in 1826 between the Zulu and a revived Ndwandwe polity under Sikhunyane ka Zwide. Furthermore, Bhambatha Benedict Wallet Vilakazi, the Zulu scholar and intellectual, did not mention a single word about the queen mother of the Ndwandwe in his 1939 isiZulu historical novel on Dingiswayo ka Jobe, even though her son, King Zwide, features prominently in the novel (Vilakazi 1939). Moreover, Vilakazi, like other authors, dwells extensively on the battle between amaZulu and the Ndwandwe that took place around 1820.
The various texts occasionally made references to the role played by the Ndwandwe monarchy in the early 1820s in driving away the people under the leadership of Mzilikazi kaMashobane who went on to form the core group of the amaNdebele kingdom in Zimbabwe, though more and more, as the century progressed, this expulsion was attributed to the Zulu under King Shaka. Another group of Ndwandwe, which had broken away from Zwide’s rule in about 1820 under the leadership of Soshangane kaZikode, went on to establish what the Gaza kingdom in southern and central Mozambique became (Wright 2008: 217–219; Vilakazi 1939). Furthermore, Wright argues that, in order to address these apparent shortcomings, we also need to consider archaeological evidence in our quest to understand the precolonial history of the powerful Ndwandwe monarchy (Wright 2008, 2010).
John Wright (2010) did not seem to be aware that throughout the twentieth century creative African writers fortified ideological views about the Ndwandwe polity by using existing oral traditions. These Zuluist literary representations were carried out by, among others, Joyce Jessie Gwayi, A. H. Dladla, Moses Ngcobo, Kunene, and Vilakazi. I shall focus my attention on the first three authors. All these historical novels include dialogue between the characters, and are written in the vernacular of isiZulu. Dladla’s historical novel, titled uNtombazi, is the only one which features Queen Mother Ntombazi as the leading character (Dladla 1979). Ngcobo’s novel, entitled Qhude Manikiniki, is based on the 1820 epic battle between the amaZulu and Ndwandwe monarchies polities (Ngcobo 1977). Gwayi’s novel is entitled Shumpu and was published in 1974 (Gwayi 1974). Kunene published his historical epic on King Shaka in 1979 (Kunene 1979). These historical novels and epic, underpinned by a Zuluist narrative, provided valuable primary evidence and served as historical sources in the production of historical knowledge on Queen Mother Ntombazi during the twentieth century. But it should be highlighted that Gwayi was married to Moses Ngcobo and was a nurse by profession. As a result, there is doubt as to whether she authored her novels (Mayekiso 1985). I have expressed my views elsewhere about the use of historical novels by African intellectuals who take a conscious decision to use the vernacular to write their own stories (S. M. Ndlovu 2017; see also Burness 1976).
In Shumpu Joyce Gwayi, whose isiZulu historical novel relies on oral traditions, points out that “Shaka fought and killed Zwide and therefore obliterated everything that could revoke his memory [including that] of his Ndwandwe tribe” (Mayekiso 1985). In his epic on Emperor Shaka the Great, Kunene also acknowledges this point:
Only Zwangendaba returned with the depleted army.
Ahead of him Shaka sent a section of his own army
Who, by singing Zwide’s victory songs, lured Zwide’s army to their defeat.
The Mbonambi and Siphezi regiments set Zwide’s capital in flames,
Sending the troublesome ruler to flee for his life.
Thus was avenged by the many people and rulers
Whom Ntombazi had kept for ridicule in her house.
It was this macabre house that was kept intact;
Here the Zulus ceremonially buried all Zwide’s victims,
Performing all rites appropriate to them
From every direction anthems of victory were sung.
The regiments shouted their battle call: “Zulu Power is eternal
From the lands of the setting sun.” (Kunene 1979: 172–173)
Kunene’s ideological battle call “Zulu power is eternal” influences various authors’ viewpoints on the relationship between the Ndwandwe and amaZulu and is part of the dominant archive that privileges the power and authority of the Zulu Kingdom. In order to emphasize this battle call, the written versions of oral traditions on Queen Mother Ntombazi create a picture of a sadistic female monarch.
Though the isiZulu literary texts by Gwayi, Ngcobo, and Dladla pass as historical novels and drama, the use of historical events and characters, imagination, and creative language by the authors in constructing their narrative structure and storyline is apparent. These historical novels are often prescribed for students at secondary schools and universities and hence have influenced a large number of students throughout the years up to the present. They are still prescribed for students who study African literature at various universities in South Africa.
With respect to the history of the Ndwandwe polity, these literary texts rigidly follow the very negative viewpoints and narrative as reflected by Socwatsha ka Phaphu. As a result, Regent Queen Ntombazi is portrayed by Gwayi, Ngcobo, Kunene, and Dladla through misogynistic metaphors, allegories, and other symbolic representations as an irrational sorcerer and superstitious demagogue engaged in mindless violence and devoid of any form of humanity. She is depicted as a savage, an uncouth barbarian, a scheming, evil‐hearted umthakathi (witch). The queen mother is further characterized in animalistic terms as a domineering control freak, as a potent snake that used human body parts for muthi and to cast a bad spell through ukucwiya (the dismemberment of bodies), which involves cutting off the victim’s body parts. Furthermore, the publications represent Ntombazi as a reincarnation of the devil, who manipulated her son King Zwide to attack and maim innocent victims from certain clans and monarchies so that the devil could expand his kingdom and rule southeastern Africa unchallenged. To illustrate the point and to identify Ntombazi with irrationality and witchcraft, Gwayi attributes the following words in a scene to the queen mother, “uma kubonakala ukuthi uGodongwane (uDingiswayo) uyasehlula ngezikhali esikhathini esizayo mina bengicabanga ukuba simthakathe Nxumalo.” But Zwide dismisses his mother’s irrational advice which is based on superstitious belief. He reasons that, in order to curtail the power of the Mthethwa, he should adopt effective military strategies. Hence Zwide’s perceptive observation:
Usho ukuthi, mama, nami kuzomele ukuba ngiphenduke umthakathi ningakaze ngizwe nokuzwa ukuthi ubaba wake wawusebenzisa umuthi wokubulala omunye umuntu … Ubaba (Langa) wasakha lesizwe ngokusebenzisa izikhali. Nami ngizosebenzisa zona ngize ngiphumelele ezifisweni zami. (Gwayi 1974: 15–17)
But in her preface to Shumpu Gwayi informs us that she created the dialogue, which is not drawn from historical texts:
Cishe ukuba lendaba iyiqiniso, njengoba bengafakaza abazaziyo ezomlando. Mina engikwenzile ukuguqula lapha nalaphaya. Ngabuye ngajobelela okuncane engikususa ekhanda. Engizothanda ukukuphawula nje phakathi kwezinto engiziguqulile yilokhu: eqinisweni isiphetho sikaZwangendaba sehlukile kulesi esikulencwadi. (1974: 7)
The title Shumpu uses strong and emotive language which has strong connotations of violent action linked to beheading and decapitation. Though Gwayi informs her readers that, though his fate does not correspond to existing historical fact, Zwangendaba is an important character in both her and Dladla’s texts for he, like Nxaba, Mzilikazi, and Soshangane, defines what might be referred to in historical terms as the “Ndwandwe diaspora.” Then a chief of the Jele section of the Ncwangweni, Zwangendaba was attacked by King Zwide and subsequently left the area around the early 1800s. He and his group finally settled around East Africa (present‐day border between Malawi and Tanzania border and also Zambia), with Zwangendaba as a ruler of the Ngoni (Chondoka 2017; Wright 2008, 2010). The Khumalo polity also features prominently in these literary works. Gwayi (1974: 79) informs readers that the Ndwandwe and the Khumalo polities were related through intermarriage, thus “uNompethu wayengenye yamadodakazi kaZwide, endele kuMashobane, inkosi yesinye sezizwe zakwaKhumalo ezintathu. Indodana yabo yokuqala kwakunguMzilikazi.” Both Gwayi and Ngcobo assert that Mashobane was King Zwide’s son‐in‐law and that Mzilikazi kaMashobane was his grandson. They also allege that both Mashobane and Mzilikazi were victims of the Ndwandwe royal household, having been slaughtered by Zwide. In one of scenes, Ngcobo, concurring with Gwayi, claims the following about a crestfallen Queen Mother Ntombazi who mourned the death of Mzilikazi:
Wethuka uNtombazi ngoba esekhumbula ukufa kukaMashobana. Indodana yakhe lena [Zwide] yaya le eNgome yafika yamnqumela khona. Wabona ukuthi sekuphindile okwenzeka kumkhwenyana wakwakhe; manje ibuza (ngo)Mzilikazi nje ngoba n(a)ye seyimbulele yalithi shumpu ikhanda lakhe. Kwamdabukisa nje ukuthi selokhu kusile ubengakayi endlini yakhe yamakhanda. Ukuba nje ubeyile ubezofika alibone ikhanda lomntanomntanakhe. Nelika Mashobane wazibonela yena indodana yakhe lena ingasho lutho ngokuthi isiye yayomnquma le… “ngithuswa ukuthi mahlwumbe uMzilikazi umbulele” … (aphendule uZwide) … “kanti‐ke uhlushwa lubala nje. Akwenzile (uMzilikazi ngokuhlangana noShaka) kubi kakhulu kunalokhu okukuhluphayo. Ngokubona kwami bekungcono khona impela ukuba bengimbulele, sikhale kube kanye kwedlule.” (Ngcobo 1977: 61)
Dladla’s drama uNtombazi (1979), unlike Gwayi’s historical novel, does not have a preface. This is also the case with Ngcobo’s dialogical historical novel Qhude Manikiniki, which is about the famous and tumultuous battle between the military forces and warriors manned by Shaka and Zwide (Ngcobo 1977). Additionally, instead of including izibongo zika Ntombazi (for she is the main character), Dladla publishes an excerpt of izibongo zika Dingiswayo, whom the Zuluist Dladla, Gwayi, and Ngcobo revered immensely. The last line of izibongo zika Dingiswayo ka Jobe, the Mthethwa monarch, refers to Ntombazi but through the image of Dingiswayo represented as “Ilanga limdodoza, Elaphum’amakhwez’abikelana, NakwaNtombazi nakwaLanga.” Dladla uses this approach because he has to grapple with the fact that izibongo zika Ntombazi, unlike those of her contemporaries Mnkabayi and Nandi, do not exist in either written or spoken form. These oral texts have been completely obliterated from the collective memory by the cultural brokers and ideologues who sided with the amaZulu.
Moreover, and on a different note, it is worth highlighting that Mnkabayi and other female monarchs of the Zulu Kingdom are not included in the official genealogy of the Zulu kings. The silence about Mthaniya, Mnkabayi ka Jama, and okaMsweli Mzimela as leaders of the Zulu Kingdom is deafening. Why were these senior female leaders excluded from and not represented in the genealogy of the Zulu kings? This is intriguing and puzzling, because izibongo and oral traditions, as rich archives, identify these female leaders as worthy Zulu monarchs. Ogbomo has argued that, rather than discrediting matriarchies, African oral tradition mostly ignores them, in this instance by excluding female leaders from official genealogies.
Furthermore, Dladla’s, Gwayi’s, and Ngcobo’s literary narratives are explicitly underpinned by excessive sympathy and empathy for Dingiswayo ka Jobe, the Mthethwa monarch who was Zwide’s arch‐enemy. He is positively portrayed as a caring figurehead who molded the young Prince Shaka. These authors’ representations of Queen Mother Ntombazi also depended very much on oral traditions in relation to the battles between the Ndwandwe, the Mthethwa, and amaZulu. As characters, Dingiswayo and Shaka loom large in these isiZulu literary works which capture the military attacks, possibly two or three, launched by the expansionist Ndwandwe monarchy against the Zulu Kingdom with the aim of destroying it as a rising rival center of power in the period 1819–1820. The three authors also emphasize that mother and son, Zwide and Ntombazi, were very close to each other, as Shaka too was close to his mother, Nandi, who was offered shelter by the Mthethwa after they were evicted by King Senzangakhona.
Oral traditions explaining the rise of the Zulu empire at the expense of the powerful Ndwandwe monarchy became an ideological tool used in the hands of Gwayi, Dladla, and Ngcobo to dismiss all those who posed a real threat to the rise of the Zulu empire and to portray them as tyrants and enemies worthy of being wiped off the face of the earth. Writing during the twentieth century under the oppressive rule of white South Africa, nationalistic Zulu authors highlighted a growing preoccupation with history. This was a continuation of Zulu ethnic nationalism, which began to appeal more strongly to the African elite through various institutional forms,one of which was the Zulu Society, formed in 1930. One of the society’s major aims was to preserve and promote the culture and customs of the “Zulu nation.” In this regard, and 45 years later, Gwayi, Dladla, and Ngcobo set out in search of heroes in order to explain their immediate past, and in Dingiswayo and Shaka they found such historical figures. Frustrated and embittered by racism and oppressive rule by the apartheid regime, these African authors turned to the cultural symbolism of the Zulu monarchy to redress to their grievances. At the end of the 1880s the Zulu Kingdom only had a notional existence. Its military power had been destroyed and the majority of its subjects turned into laborers; its leadership was fragmented and its social cohesion and administrative capacity broken. But this decline in the political power of the Zulu monarchy did not denote the end of its cultural and symbolic importance. By carefully analyzing existing oral traditions, these authors soon became conscious of the fact that if King Shaka did not hinder the progress of the expansionist Ndwandwe state, his importance and reputation as a nation builder and a founder of the mighty Zulu empire might have taken a different direction. Ideologically, Vilakazi, Gwayi, Dladla, and Ngcobo are pro‐Zulu nationalists and virulently against the Ndwandwe polity, for it posed a threat to the rise of the great empire and King Shaka’s rule.
This viewpoint, though expressed in texts that pass as historical fiction, attests to the view that by the 1810s, if not before, the Ndwandwe monarchy, now under King Zwide ka Langa, was beginning to feel that its ability to maintain not only its sphere of influence but also the integrity of the kingdom itself were under threat. Within the core region of the kingdom, one of its responses was to tighten its hold over men of fighting age through the system of enrolling them into state‐controlled amabutho. Wright (2008, 2010) argues that it is likely at this stage the Ndwandwe were becoming better organized for warfare than any of their neighbors, including both the Mthethwa and the Zulu. This was partly because of rivalries which were developing in the early nineteenth century between the Ndwandwe and expansionist neighbors (Wright 2008). Furthermore, Wright observes that Philip Bonner (1983) had used evidence gained from the James Stuart Collection, together with oral testimonies collected from a number of Swazi “informants,” to provide a searching account of the origins, expansion, and rivalries of the Swazi and the Ndwandwe polities. Bonner’s analysis led him to reach the radical conclusion that it was highly likely that that Zwide, rather than Dingiswayo of the Mthethwa, was the “real prototype of Shaka” (Wright 2008: 222). The following lines from izibongo zika Zwide ka Langa may attest to Bonner’s observation that Zwide was the real prototype of Shaka as far as their expansionist policies, strategies, and tactics of uniting different polities under their rule are concerned. Zwide ka Langa is linked to the royal house at kwa Nobamba and also assumes the potent ancestral powers and spiritual guidance of Jama and Mageba who are both King Shaka’s forebears and ancestors:
Inakaz’ emnyama yakiti kwa Nobamba
Ehamb’ ibang’ amacala
O qamise iDukumbane, e li ku Ncinci
U njenge hlaba e li ku Sidubela.
O wa pot’ intamb’ ende, umnta ka Jama,
O wa pot’ intamb’ ende, wa‐ya pezulu,
Lapa ne zituta zako Mageba zi ngayi ku‐fika,
Za(w)uti zi ya kwela, z’ apuka’ amazwanyana. (Stuart 1925: 50)
Stuart further notes that Grout, in his Grammar of the Zulu Language, published in 1859, included izibongo Zamakhosi, who had passed away, which also highlighted similarities between the two kings Shaka and Zwide, in relation to the ancestral powers of King Shaka’s forefather Jama. As a result, izibongo zika Zwide ka Langa reads:
Yizwa‐ke, Nkosi! Ndwandwe wa bade!
Sihlope si ka Gumede! Mandond’ esihle!
Nig sa libele nga buza lapa sezibulweni.
Ma si pot’ igoda, Mandi ka Jama,
Si‐y’ ezulwini, lapa ne zituta zi ngeyi ku‐fika,
Zobe zi ya kwela, z’apuk’ amazwanyana. (Stuart 1925: 50)
The following lines from izibongo zika Shaka may attest to Bonner’s observation that Shaka was the real prototype of Zwide as far as their militaristic tendencies were concerned:
UBholokoqa bazalukanisile,
Zalukanisiwe uNoju noNgqengenye,
EyakwaNtombazi neyakwaNandi;
Yayikhiph’ ishoba libomvu,
Ikhishwa elimhlophe lakwaNandi. (Cope 1968: 89)
While Dladla identifies Matiwane, the Ngwane monarch, as the initial target for the Ndwandwe to fulfill their expansionist tendencies and against whom to test their military strength, including the use of witchcraft, Gwayi identifies Zwangendaba as Zwide’s main target in implementing newly devised military strategies which were adapted from the formidable Dingiswayo’s battle plans. Ngcobo’s plot differs from the other two authors’ in that he does identify the Khumalos (Mashobane and Mzilikazi), Zwide’s clansmen, as initial targets for expansionism. But the three authors agree on one issue: they all directly identify Dingiswayo, who had ruled since the 1790s, and Shaka as the main targets because they threatened the rising power of the Ndwandwe. According to Ngcobo, the two were also anointed as victims of witchcraft and candidates for beheading in order for their body parts to be used for muthi by Ntombazi. This meant that, after beheading, their skulls were displayed in the queen mother’s official residence. On this theme, Ngcobo writes that, during one of endless conversation with his mother, Zwide alludes to the fact “(umchilo) kuzokuba ngowekhanda lakhe lomfana kaSenzangakhona (Shaka), mama. Nokho usezohlala isikhathi eside ulenga ezintongweni zendlu yakho. Kayikho into esingayenza kuyena singakamtholi uGodongwane (Dingiswayo) okunguyena acashe ngaye” (Ngcobo 1977: 31). In one of the scenes, a concerned King Dingiswayo confronts an extremely worried King Shaka, whom Ngcobo informs us was ruling the Zulu empire under the lordship of Dingiswayo:
“Nyambose,” kukhuleka uShaka, “Zulu,” kuvuma uDingiswayo emamatheka. Lenkosi yamaZulu (uShaka) yiyona ayithanda kunawo wonke amakhosi ayebusa ngaphansi kwakhe … ‘nanxa sisephansi kwalo ifu elimnyama lokuzingelwa nguZwide ngizokuthi siyaphila, Ndaba … Mayelana nekhanda lakho bewungakweza lutho Jama? … Ikhanda lakho nawe uZwide uyalifuna njengoba efuna elami. Uma ngizwa uzimisele impela ukuba ngawo womabili ayohlobisa ngawo indlu kanina (uNtombazi) … Sewuzwile‐ke Zulu (Shaka), ukuthi ifu elimyamalisisibekele sobabili, ikhanda lakho nawe liyafuneka kwaNongoma … Engikweluleka khona ukuba uhlale uqaphele ukuze lingayi khona ngempela; ufuze mina engiselokhu nje ngiqaphele. (Ngcobo 1977: 25–27)
The claim that Mashobane and Mzilikazi were connected to the Ndwandwe is historically accurate, but the authors of isiZulu literary texts deliberately sought to change, to embellish, to diminish, to add, and to distort history and generally to take advantage of poetic license for the sake of their art. Gwayi’s, Dladla’s, and Ngcobo’s claim that guillotined heads belonging to Matiwane, Mashobane, Mthimkhulu ka Bhungane, and Zwangendaba, among others, were to be found at Queen Mother Ntombazi’s palace is historically inaccurate. Other candidates to have been beheaded would have included Mbonambi of the Mabhudu polity, Sokhulu of the Nqobeka polity, and Nxaba and Dingiswayo of the Mthethwa polity; but we also know that Zwangendaba, Nxaba, and Mzilikazi were part of the precolonial Ndwandwe diaspora (Ngoni) which settled in present‐day Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania, and Zimbabwe (see Chondoka 2017; Wright 2008, 2010).
Since we do not have a record or an archive of izibongo zika Ntombazi, we can analyze izibongo zika Zwide to verify whether Zwide’s army did carry out the hideous deed of collecting decapitated heads after defeating their enemies. This usually characterizes izibongo Zamakhosi. For example, izibongo are also indications of the public explanations of King Dingane’s actions toward whites as invaders, and of the rationale for his extermination of Piet Retief and his party. There are different explanations from izibongo and oral traditions for this event (see Ndlovu 2017).
Like Carolyn Hamilton’s seminal doctoral thesis on King Shaka, I suggest that the initiative taken by Gwayi, Ngcobo, and Dladla, who used historical novels and drama to construct a particular Zuluist image of the queen mother of the Ndwandwe and her erstwhile rivals from the expansionist Mthethwa and Zulu polities, not only question the distinctions between the fields of politics, history, and literature but also challenge divisions implicit within each discipline. Such distinctions exist within academic historical writings between historical texts, oral traditions, and accounts of travelers, missionaries, and colonial officials. Within the field of literature, distinctions are drawn between poetry, drama, and novels. Again, like Hamilton, I query the distinction between historiography and these sources. As she argues,
An understanding of historiographical practice … as well as a clear picture of the history of the image of Shaka, is a precondition for the evaluation of sources for, and the conduct of research on, Shakan times. The ideas that early European sources are untrustworthy and should not be used by scholars, and that African sources on Shakan times are absent, are simply untenable. (Hamilton 1998: 31)
An unquestioning acceptance of a division between African and European sources ignores what is similar or comparable in them (the representation of the Ndwandwe polity and the influential role of Ntombazi, the powerful queen mother). These representations overlap regardless whether they are articulated by white academics, Zulu nationalists as authors of historical novels or drama in vernacular, African public intellectuals narrating oral traditions, white settlers as missionaries, or travelers and traders recording their observations. There are commonalities in these various texts, yet each is informed by its own logic and generates its own images and historical insights.
In terms of African religion and belief systems, most African societies did not (and still do not) keep the human body parts of dead people in their places of abode in full view as trophies for all to see, nor did they keep body parts in secret. The bodies of deceased humans (and their parts) are buried under the earth, for they belong in the underworld of the Ancestors (KwaBaphansi). Their earthly spirits remain underground, and do not go up to heaven or the sky, as in the Christian religion. Though it is claimed by authors that Queen Mother Ntombazi was a cruel sorcerer who carried out the evil deed of ukucwiya and kept the decapitated heads of rival monarchs at her royal palace, both Ntombazi and Zwide would have known the dangers of keeping the body parts of other monarchs in their midst. They would be forever haunted by restless spirits as earthly representatives of the guillotined heads that were supposedly kept elawini by uNtombazi. The subjects and relatives of these decapitated monarchs would have made life difficult for the Ndwandwe royal house, for, according to African custom, they would congregate at Ntombazi’s royal palace to perform the ukubuyisa ceremony or ritual which is part of the belief system of African peoples in southeast Africa. This ritual or ceremony gave rise to proverbs/izaga such as “Akudlozi lay’ endlini layeka kwabo; akudlozi lingayi kwabo” and “Idlozi liyabekelwa.” These proverbs may also be heard with the noun “ithonga” substituted for “idlozi.” The restless spirits of the deceased had to be eventually buried and join the world of aBaphansi (the Ancestors). The fact is that the democratic government in South Africa has faced challenges as families and relatives of those who have passed away in exile during the struggle for national liberation want their bodies to be repatriated and reburied in South Africa.
To a large extent, one can argue, regardless of the poetic and creative license exercised by the authors of the isiZulu literary texts, Zwide and Ntombazi were not so dehumanized that they ceased to adhere to existing belief systems and religion whereby a human being must aspire to be ultimately united with the earth where his or her ancestors reside, and not to be separated from it. The emphasis of African societies was and still is the continuity of life after death and therefore ancestors (belonging to the world of both the perpetrator and the victim) would not have made it possible for the queen mother of the Ndwandwe to carry out the hideous deed of beheading monarchies and keep their body parts in her royal house for whatever reason. According to Kunene, African religion and belief systems postulate that all members of the family past, present, and future must be consolidated to form one continuous family. By family is meant primarily the members who trace their ancestry to one common Ancestor. The concept does not end there but is extended ideologically to include the whole human society so that society is the sum total of many families and not of individuals (Kunene 1981).
Would the queen mother have been so dehumanized and evil that she did not belong to any form of religion or belief system? Actually, Dladla answers this question in his drama when the Ndwandwe monarchy and royal household confirm their belief in uMvelinqangi (the supreme creator) umdali wezulu nomhlaba (before the advent of Christianity in southern Africa). This becomes apparent in Dladla’s storyline when Ntombazana, King Zwide’s sister and Queen Mother Ntombazi’s rebellious daughter, who has fallen in love with King Dingiswayo, the arch‐enemy of the Ndwandwe, discuss the pros and cons of ukucwiya. In this scene, Ntombazana is being manipulated by her conspiratorial royal family who try to convince her to deceive and kill her lover:
ZWIDE: Sikubizile lapha nomame Ntombazana, Mntakababa uLanga. Sikubizele udaba olungelula kakhulu ngoba lubelethe inkalakatha yesenzo esibucayi. Uzokuchazela umame…kumele uzinikele ngenxa yombuso kababa uLanga (ongasekho‐and an ancestor), nagenxa yakhe umame wethu uLangakazi (Ntombazi).
NTOMBAZANA: Ngiyezwa mnewethu okushoyo. Noma ngethuka nje kodwa mangisho ukuthi ngizimisele ukwenza konke okusemandleni ami obufazane amancane. Ngiyethemba futhi kakusiyo into embi ngoba kangihambisani nolunya kanye nokubulala abantu abanganacala.
NTOMBAZI: Wena njengomntanami akubone ubone ulunya ezenzweni zami ngingunyoko ngikuzala. Noma ngabe kukhona wena okubiza ngobubi ezenzweni zami, ngifuna ukwenze. Phela Ntombazana mntanami, ukuze uphembe ubuhle kumele usebenzise ububi. Name kumele ngisebenzise ububi ukuze ngizuzele indodana yami nomfowenu uZwide ubukhosi bazozonke izizwe.
NTOMBAZANA: Ngiyezwa mame, kepha kangizenzi ngadalwa kanjalo. uMvelingqangi wangidala nesihawu. Ngiyaye ngethuka sezehla nje izinyembezi…
ZWIDE: Wakhuluma kamnandi mntakababa uLanga…
NTOMBAZI: …Manje ke Ntombazana, nakhu ozokwenza, uzokuya kwaMthethwa, uzohamba noNombuso kaMalusi…Lokhu uzokwenza ngokucwiya uDingwisayo. Ngifuna wenze sengathi uyamqoma kanti phinde
NTOMBAZANA: Hawu Mame! Into enjalo pho? (Dladla 1979: 20–21)
The shocked Princess Ntombazana is torn between the demands of her manipulative mother and her unquestionable love for King Dingiswayo. Nevertheless, it becomes apparent that the family, notwithstanding their belief in uMvelingqangi, also believe in ancestral spirits in the form of Langa, Zwide’s and Ntombazana’s deceased father, whose earthly presence is referred to in this scene. This emphasizes the continuity of life after death, as has always been the case in African societies throughout the African continent. Surely, both Ntombazi and Zwide, as responsible and knowledgeable leaders, would have known the dangers of ukucwiya and of keeping the body parts of other monarchs in their midst. They would be forever haunted by the restless spirits of amathonga/amadlozi (the earthly representatives of these severed human heads purportedly kept elawini by uNtombazi).
Therefore, much as it is claimed by Zuluist ideologues and cultural brokers that Queen Mother Ntombazi was a cruel sorcerer who carried out the evil deed of ukucwiya in terms of African religion and belief systems, Gwayi, Dladla, and Ngcobo contradict themselves by constantly informing us in their narratives that both Queen Mother Ntombazi and Zwide, her beloved son, had soul because they believed in uMvelingqangi7 and the spiritual powers of the Ancestors (aBaphansi) as earthly spirits who operate in the underworld. Kunene, in his epic on Shaka, the great Zulu emperor, however, does not ascribe such religious beliefs to the Ndwandwe monarchy but only to the Zulu monarchy.
We also have to take into account that no one can keep a number of deceased human bodies in a closed room (ilawu) without facing problems of public health and hygiene. We know that physiologists, as medical practitioners, apply chemical processes in well‐equipped laboratories to counter such problems so as to be able to continue with their work. Perhaps, as the literary works claim, Ntombazi the sorcerer had supernatural powers to survive the suffocating stench of decomposing human parts, which might cause deadly epidemics and disease. Medicinal practitioners, traditional healers, and diviners who operated within the Ndwandwe polity would surely have advised the royal house about the dangers posed by such a practice. Besides, the best practice and standard rule was (and still is) that human body parts are not used for muthi through witchcraft. The claim that mother and son were sorcerers who dabbled in witchcraft is unconvincing. By using indigenous knowledge systems, both the indigenous traditional healers and medicinal practitioners had the interests of the society at heart. The destructive effects of diseases and epidemics that occurred during precolonial times, including those caused by natural disasters such as droughts and famine are well recorded in various oral traditions, for example, the great seventeenth‐century famine, flooding, and drought were referred to in these traditions as indlala kaMadlantuli. In African belief systems, the goddess Nomkhubulwana would intervene and restore the balance and activate the forces of rebirth. Therefore, if there had been a major epidemic and health hazard within the Ndwadwe polity, we would know about it as it would have been recorded and preserved through oral traditions. But the Ndwadwe or Nxumalos still exist and live in large numbers in the present‐day KwaZulu‐Natal province and Swaziland.
The narrative structure of the historical novels is really focused on the forever changing dynamics within the Ndwandwe and the Zulu monarchies. In these texts, which are based on oral traditions, Queen Mother Ntombazi has been represented as an irrational, superstitious witch who carries out destructive deeds. The allegations of occult practices and of witchcraft within the Ndwandwe monarchy may be linked to the relentless historical obsession among colonialists that witchcraft was widely practiced in Africa. In this discourse African women are often represented as cruel sorcerers who have no ethical regard for the well‐being of the broader society. Hence their images have to be destroyed. This has led to the destruction of historical knowledge in that the Ndwandwes’ historical archive on Ntombazi, which is also defined by izibongo zika Ntombazi, does not exist.
These historical novels, which also contribute to the production of historical knowledge, were also largely informed by the sociopolitical values and beliefs systems of African societies. The character of Queen Mother Ntombazi is admonished, chastised, and demolished by Zulu nationalist authors for the apparent support she gave to her son King Zwide, the upstart who dared to challenge King Shaka. Implicit in the authors’ Zuluist narrative is the idea that a strong African leader, in the person of King Shaka, is the missing link in the contemporary politics of apartheid South Africa. According to Gwayi, Dladla, Ngcobo, and Kunene, King Shaka was a standard bearer for civilization, social cohesion, and progress. His perceptive diplomatic policies and endeavors, including initiatives for accommodating expansionist British colonial power, were perceived as the political strategies of a genius. King Shaka’s attempt to unite the various African kingdoms, chiefdoms, and different clans under the system of a divine kingship was an empowering move – a mission that would benefit African peoples by creating a dynamic indigenous life, politics, and military vitality which would pose a serious deterrent to European expansionism (see also Ndlovu 2017).
According to Ngcobo, Gwayi, and Dladla, female African leaders both traditional and modern are not qualified to become leaders of their respective societies. This is quite extraordinary, considering that during the time period these historical novels were published gender inequality, oppression, racism and racial discrimination was not regarded as a norm by the patriots fighting for the struggle for national liberation in South Africa. As the then popular slogan about majority rule emphasized, “we are fighting for a non‐racial, non‐sexist, democratic South Africa.” According to these authors, female leaders such as Ntombazi and Mnkabayi do not represent an embodiment of democratic values, but they also misrepresent represent inspiring role models and a symbolic hope not only for the empowerment of women but also for their total liberation from all negative perceptions and oppressions. Dladla, Ngcobo, and Gwayi fail dismally to capture an expression of survival that portrays day‐to‐day experiences of women whose goal is to live life to the fullest despite anything that is thrown their way. Elsewhere, I have argued that in the decades leading up to the white conquest of King Cetshwayo’s army in 1879, women were recognized, and even revered, for their important contribution to various African societies (Ndlovu 2008). This was the norm because African societies believed in progressive humanism underscored by Ubuntu, a progressive humanist philosophy which proclaims “umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu,” that one’s humanity is being enriched by another’s; in other words, to be human is to affirm one’s humanity by recognizing humanity of others. On this basis we learn to establish humane, respectful relations with them, and as humans we are linked to a wider universe and spiritual world. Ubuntu as a philosophy promotes human sympathy, human rights, social justice, love, a willingness to share, and forgiveness.
The viewpoints of Dladla, Gwayi, and Ngcobo and of their narratives simply reflected their experiences as individuals caught up in historical processes defined by the race conflict, prejudice, and political oppression meted by the apartheid regime. They use the various images of Ntombazi, Zwide, Dingiswayo, and Shaka to examine power and authority, control and domination, conquest and rule, dissent and suppression, rebellion and destruction. In this regard history has meanings in the present and hence has an ideological agenda. As an example, by pushing a genealogical Zuluist ideology the authors portrayed Queen Mother Ntombazi and King Zwide in extremely negative terms. As a counterpoint, and to democratize the production of historical knowledge in South Africa, we need to write an Africanist history of the present‐day KwaZulu‐Natal province that goes beyond the confines of the rise of the Zulu Kingdom in the 1820s. In short, we need to rescue the history of pre‐Shakan times by focusing on, among others, Queen Mother Ntombazi and the Ndwandwe monarchy so as to challenge any idea that women should remain buried in the dustbin of history.
But the question still remains, who is Queen Mother Ntombazi? The irony is that the deceased mother of King Zwelithini, the present Zulu king, is a Ndwandwe. I am still searching for Queen Mother Ntombazi’s pre‐colonial archive which, unlike those of Queen Nandi and Regent Queen Mnkabayi, was destroyed by male cultural brokers and ideologues. All what we have is a twentieth century archive in the form of historical novels, drama, and epics.