Sam Kaseba
21 June 2001
Lusaka — For life forms that exist on the planet earth, the sun is the most important celestial object in the sky.
Apart from separating day from night and marking the passage of time, the sun's light is essential in the growth of plant life and in the photo-chemical reaction that happens in plants to produce food and release oxygen into the earth's atmosphere.
It is no wonder that to some people the sun is the object of worship and has spawned many legends. Here is one from the history of the Zulus under Shaka, which, despite some doubts about the dates, appears to describe the 1835 total eclipse of the sun (from the book, Shaka Zulu, by E.A Ritter.
In the year of Shaka's first contact with Europeans an event occurred, at the festival of little Umkosi, which greatly heightened Shaka's prestige, and therefore his power; he saved the sun from extinction.
In 1824 the flowering of the Umdubu was early and so, therefore, was the festival of little Umkosi, or first fruits, which was advanced to December 20.
On that day, one of rejoicing and feasting Shaka had gone through the ceremony of squirting at the sun and also stabbing at it with the royal red-shafted spear as usual.
The medicine for this purpose was always prepared by Shaka's war doctor Mqalane, who also had the duty at this time of adding to the "power" of the Zulus sacred coil, the inkata, a ring made of woven grass and about one yard in diametre and of growing thickness, for the personal inkata of each chief was added to the national one.
There now occurred an event subsequently much used by writers of fiction. At the height of the festivities Shaka and his entourage were watching the multitude. They were standing under the big, shady fig tree at the top end of the kraal, for it was a hot summer day. Everyone looked happy, and sounds of singing floated everywhere. Even the birds in the tree added to the general gaiety with their lively twittering.
Suddenly all bird-life seemed to cease. Shaka and Mqalane looked into the tree with a mystified air, and then the rest of the party, including Mdlaka and Mgobozi, did the same.
This silence and uneasiness of the birds was, as Shaka at once remarked, an umhlolo, an evil occurrence. Soon the people, too, were silent for they saw at the perimetre of the shade cast by the court tree, the flecks of sunshine were taking grotesque and unreal shapes. And although there was not a cloud in the sky, it grew darker. Then Shaka, followed by his party, strode out of the shade of the tree and glanced upwards.
"Wo!" he exclaimed with hands to his mouth. "Wo! umhlolo," repeated all the others with hands to their mouths. All except Mqalane, who was silent. Rapidly the sunlight faded as the disk of the moon covered more than half of the fiery orb and continued to invade the rest.
A heart-breaking wail arose from the multitude. "The sun is being devoured; we are lost, for we shall be eaten too."
"What is it, Mqalane?" Shaka asked. "I have heard the old people say it happened before, but I don't like it."
As the eclipse advanced beyond three-quarters Shaka muttered to Mqalane: "If it does not come back we are finished," where upon Mqalane at last replied: "Have no fear. It will return. Chew this quickly, and then spit at the sun, commanding it to return. It is powerful medicine," and he handed a black little ball to Shaka.
Mgobozi looked grave, but dauntless. "Safa sapela" (We are dead and finished.) Seven-eigths of the sun was eclipsed. The light was weird and ghostly. The whole countryside began to look like an antechamber of Hades, and to the cowering, superstitious multitude it seemed like the approach of the nether world. They were numbed.
This sudden transformation of a brilliant mid-summer's day of national feasting into the exact picture of what they imagined the underworld to be like paralysed them all. The cocks began to crow.
Then Mqalane's great voice boomed out: "Have no fear, people of Zulu. Your mighty king is now going to spurt at the monster devouring the sun, and then he will stab it, and, mortally, wounded, it will recede into its hole in the sky. Behold! all you people; he is doing it now, and soon the light will return."
Shaka stood on the clay mound when he made national announcements. The people gazed at him with fearful hope. His commanding figure seemed to be magnified to majestic proportions in that weird and unreal light. In his right hand he held a red-shafted spear, and in his left the royal stick. Then he spurted at the sun. He commanded it to return. His spear lunged in the direction of the sun and he kept it pointing there as immobile as a stature. The vast concourse held its breath. The sun was nearly gone.
An incredulous gasp arose from the multitude. For when the sun was all but gone, it began to wax again. The black shadow of the moon was receding, and the sun's disk rapidly growing.
"It is true. It is true," bellowed the multitude. "The black monster is creeping back, and the sun is chasing it now. Our king has stabbed the beast and it is losing power."
Like Joshua of old, Shaka continued to exploit the dramatic possibilities of the situation, and he continued in his statuesque posture; as the sun rapidly regained its ascendancy, tumultuous shouts arose from the populace.
First with trembling hope as the sun reclaimed one-quarter of its own. Then the firm conviction as it recovered half. As three-quarters of it emerged, the tumult became deafening; and finally when the full sun shone forth again, there was one continuous roar of victory, which continued in triumphant waves of adulation for the all-powerful warrior-king who had saved the nation.
At last Shaka held up his hand, commanding silence. Then bidding Mqalane to take his stand in front of, and a little below him, he bade him address the people.
"Children of Zulu," began Mqalane. "Behold your king! It was he, and he alone, who saved you and the nation today. Without him we would all have perished; but he slew the black monster which nearly succeeded in devouring our life-giving sun.
"Give thanks to him, and forget not to say it with cattle and comely damsels. For where would you all be, if it were not for him? Give thanks, I say."
"Bayete!" they roared in joyful gratitude. "Bayete! King of kings, and the devourer of all your enemies. Mighty elephant who stamps but once!" An excerpt from the book SHAKA ZULU by E.A Ritter on page 290-293, published by Penguin books in 1955.
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