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I’ve often wondered who I am.

Haha, way to start off deep right? Apologies, I must admit I started off way too strong but it’s true. I’m sure you’ve often wondered who you are. Mind you, I’m not going to spend our limited blogging space prattling on and on about self-introspection and self-actualisation or the cliché “finding oneself”. No, this isn’t what I’ll delve into.

I want to dissect our identity as Africans, specifically our identities as Zimbabweans. Because who the heck are we? Are we pre-colonial Zimbabweans, are we colonised Zimbabweans or are we post-colonial minded Zimbabweans? I don’t know where I or all of us fit in but I can surmise that we have numerous fragments of each of those groups I mentioned to create a very fragile glass like African identity.

I’m well aware that this is a tale as old as time but my pan-African split personality (more like an entity) has to mention COLONISATION because why not? Alright, let me cease the senseless stalling. When the British invaded Zimbabwe they nicked our land, resources and our people (to work for them in their farms or mines or whatever other venture they decided to undertake in a land they had poached thanks to what historians allege was because of sugar). After taking everything we owned and placing us at odds with nature, they proceeded to alter everything about us because we were “uncivilised savages”. We were pagan beggars in desperate need of a saviour and they took it upon themselves to be our saviours without our consent.

They changed the way we viewed our religion, they labelled our languages as inferior to English and they deemed our skin colour inhuman and inferior. They stripped Zimbabweans of their customs and their way of life as they knew it. Their identities and that of their descendants (that’s us, we’re the descendants) were forever altered. It led to a majority of natives (I really hate this word) looking down on their identities and trying desperately to conceal them or alter them so that Caucasians could perceive them as digestible in more ways than one.

Dramatic? Well, it doesn’t make it any less true. There are many, many alterations brought by the white man that completely suffocated our way of life and who we are. They manifested themselves in numerous aspects and number one in our list is:

Religion…

This one is pretty touchy but it has to be dissected. So, I’ll throw myself into the perpetual flames of discourse. When missionaries first reached Zimbabwe, they were under the assumption that we didn’t have a God or know a God. Many racist, Eurocentric schools of thought surmised that we were ritualistic pagans who had no religious direction or purpose. Little did they know that we called Yahweh Ishe or Mwari in Shona or Nkulunkulu in Ndebele. Did they bother to observe us without any biases? No. They were biased scholars who had an awful habit of drawing adverse inferences from thin air.

We knew God. Did we know that we had to go through Jesus Christ to get to Yahweh? That one is somewhat debatable and I can give them credit for helping us bridge that gap. However, we already knew God and we had our own respectful ways of worshipping Him. The colonisers didn’t acknowledge that better yet they DID NOT WANT to acknowledge that we knew God.

However, that’s not what I necessarily wanted to write about. I wanted to talk about the effects of Christianity on Zimbabwe’s African Traditional Religion (ATR) and how practitioners of ATR are excluded or shunned by the rest of society. Our ancestors practised ATR and some people practise it today. The advent of Christianity saw to it that people who practise ATR are belittled. Before Christianity, ATR was a norm and that changed after Christianity’s arrival. Now n’angas or herbalists are often mistaken for evil witches who will rot in hell because of all the evil they plot. Hectic, am I right?

Zimbabweans have turned to disregarding ATR and writing it off as evil.  I can admit that certain aspects of ATR weren’t good in any shape way or form. Some practitioners believed in killing twins and albinos as they were perceived as a curse and nothing more. However, that was abolished thanks to some missionaries.  Be that as it may, the missionaries who introduced Christianity manipulated the religion to make Africans docile and easy to subjugate.

What’s my point? Gosh, it’s a jumbled one. I’m a Christian. I believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross to save me from separation with Yahweh. I’m currently culturing a relationship with Yahweh because a life devoid of Him is meaningless to me. There are no buts. However, I do not look down on practitioners of ATR. Will I tell them about Christ? Heck yeah, I will. But will I ever look down on them and call them witches? No. I would never do that. I respect them and their way of life. Their choice to practise ATR doesn’t make them any less human compared to me. I am no better than anyone.

I am of the firm belief that it’s outright deplorable to shun a group of people from society because of what religion they align themselves with (as long as it is not evil or harming anyone). It doesn’t take a lot for us to respect one another just as the Lord our God commanded.

Language…

I am absolutely excited to tackle this one. Zimbabwe’s first official language is English (duh, we were colonised by the British). Other official languages are Shona, Ndebele, Tshwa, Xhosa, Chewa, Southern Sotho, Tswana, Venda, Tsonga, Tonga, Tsongan, Kalanga, Sena, Sign language, Nambya. We’re a melting pot of diverse cultures and languages. Isn’t that amazing? Well yes, in theory that is. I say this because if you can’t speak English in Zimbabwe then you’re practically nothing. Our own people have taken using English as a measurement of intelligence. If you can’t speak good English then it means you’re dumb.

I’ve never really understood the reasoning behind this ideology. In fact, I think it’s stupid and disrespectful. The majority of inhabitants in Zimbabwe are black (or natives since you all seem to like that word) and their major languages are Shona and Ndebele. That being said, why shove English down black folks’ throats and call them uneducated for not knowing how to speak proper English? Sigh.

I would say the worst part about this is that it’s more black people looking down on other black people in Zimbabwe for not knowing how to speak English well. Now that we’re on this topic what can we deem “good” English? Who bares the onus of measuring “good” English? It’s disappointing to watch each other shame ourselves for not speaking “good” English or having an agreeable accent.

The double standard that always vexes me is the way Shona or Ndebele speaking Zimbabweans are excited when a white Zimbabwean can speak either or both of the tribal languages I mentioned. Why should you be excited? They have lived in Zimbabwe all their lives so it’s only normal that they are able to speak these languages. It shouldn’t be a rarity or an amazing anomaly. It should be the norm. The way white Zimbabweans correct you for mispronouncing the word “mischievous” is the same way we should correct them when they mispronounce our names.

Our native languages are nothing to be ashamed of. They should be respected and held at the same standard English is in Zimbabwe. I remember how anal our teachers used to get when we spoke in our native languages during class, going as far as saying “don’t speak vernacular in class, it’s unsightly.” WHICH WAS ODD BECAUSE MY TEACHERS WERE NDEBELE. How could we not speak Ndebele when most of us are Ndebele?

What strikes me as odd is that we look down on ourselves for not speaking proper English yet we can speak our native languages pretty well. I don’t know about you but isn’t that what’s most important? Most black Zimbabweans are either bilingual or trilingual from what I have come to realise. There’s a quote that goes “they laugh at you for not being able to speak English but you’ll find that English is the only language that they know” and one that says “never make fun of someone who speaks broken English. It means they know another language”.

What’s more, Zimbabweans are extremely obsessed with accents. If one does not have a “white” adjacent accent or sounds like a Shona or sounds like a Ndebele when they speak then they are inferior. Disgusting behaviour is it not?

Your ability or inability to speak English does not make you any less Zimbabwean.

In our lingo…

In Ndebele a slang term of endearment I’m sure we’ve all had the displeasure of hearing (usually from commuter omnibus conductors is “khiwa,” “unjani khiwa?”. Khiwa means white person in Ndebele. That term of “endearment” is usually used for friendly conversations. People usually find being called that polite and what not. IS THAT NOT ODD TO YOU? IS THAT NOT STRANGE TO YOU? IS THAT NOT WEIRD?

The Shona equivalent to “khiwa” is “murungu”. They also use this term for politeness or to make one feel comfortable. The fact that everyone gets giddy when they are called khiwa or murungu is rather alarming. I know it doesn’t come across as a big deal but gosh I don’t know. It’s all very wonky. I think normalising such little things will make us tolerate even bigger things that feed into our insecurities.

Education…

Most Zimbabwean parents I have had the displeasure of conversing with are only ever interested in a school if they are sure that it’s predominantly white. If it’s not predominantly white, they would prefer that a few teachers are white or at a least a race closer to whiteness like coloured people or biracial people.

Most parents would tell me that schools that don’t have white influences tend to lack standards. I find that insulting because a school should be judged on how well students are taught. Unless it’s just me?

Clothing…

Then there’s the whole traditional clothing garb issue. Many Zimbabweans tend to look down on “African” printed materials or clothes going as far as to call them unclassy or less than chic. Whatever the case may be, everyone is entitled to their own informed opinion however I can’t help but think that the tendency to shun African prints by calling them ugly whilst dressing like the late queen of England is a bit problematic.

Hair…

I can arguably say that hair is a massive part of my identity. I think afro hair is very distinct and unique to mostly black people. That being said, we hate our own hair. Colonisation told us that our curls and massive afros were unkempt, disgusting and distracting. We couldn’t get jobs or education because of the way we wear our hair and believe it or not it’s all still prevalent today as well. I can list numerous recent cases of black children dragging their schools to court simply because they had locs or afros. Make it make sense.

What’s even more heinous is that we heckle and mistreat ourselves and our own hair. We pressure women to don Brazilian wigs or Peruvian wigs and everything else all in the name of having the straight, neat and long hair associated with whiteness.

The lack of love black people used to have and have for their hair is a testament to their inferiority complex. I have a good head of hair and when I usually visit salons hairdressers usually “compliment” me by saying “you have very beautiful hair. It’s a lot, like a white person’s hair.” When I was younger that made me giggle, now I just roll my eyes and laugh awkwardly as I try and explain why that’s such a strange statement to make. I used to ask myself where do I even begin when explaining why saying “beautiful hair is white people hair” is a problematic statement. Now I just say it directly and unapologetically. After all, how does one teach if they don’t speak up or walk the talk?

Look at the advent of relaxers and why they were created in the first place. They were made so that the black person’s hair texture can be tamed and agreeable to polite (euphemism for white) society. You heard it here first and won’t hear it for the last time my fellow black sister, your hair is seen as a vulgarity that cannot be tolerated.

In most countries women have reclaimed their identities in regards to hair. They have completely negated the dictations society has over black women and men’s hair by doing whatever the heck they want. That’s great, power to the people. If someone desires to wear their hair natural, in locs, in relaxer (careful of that because of their links to cancer) or braids then who are you to stand in the way? My only issue is the way women who usually don wigs tend to look down on women who wear their hair natural hair or do braids, often calling them childish and juvenile. A polite and stylish grown up should wear wigs, at least that is according to them. Do you see the problem with the straight wig nazis? That is a sign of an underlying inferiority complex that sis would have to deal with. In fact, she would need to sit down and do some good old fashioned self-introspection.

I am of the firm belief that the state of our hair has long since driven black women to near insanity. It’s all a complicated and nuanced issue that stems from years of oppression and now years of internalised racism. This is an issue that needs a lot of time and care to unravel it and ensure that a path of healing finally takes shape and form.

Colourism…

The way black people poke fun and dehumanise other black people for being dark-skinned is absolutely disgusting. We get called monkeys or tar or whatever creative insult a white person can muster, every day. Whether we’re people of industry or people in presidential office, we will always be subjected to racial slurs so I find it debilitating that we do that to each other. Because WHY? We pedestalise light-skins, give them better opportunities and treat them with respect and yet we look down on our when they are a few shades darker.

Newsflash, we’re all black. Whether light-skinned, brown-skinned or dark-skinned. We’re all just black people to the rest of the world.

Our ill-treatment to each other based on skin tone is a testament to our inferiority complexes. We think white skin is superior and what’s closer to white skin in black society? That’s right, light-skinned black people.

When I wasn’t black and proud…

I wasn’t black and proud whenever I wrote my stories and made my protagonist a white woman with blonde hair and blue eyes all the time. I wanted to tell stories of adventure and intrigue but a black person never suited the images I had in my head. I realised that those were issues I really had to delve into and completely destroy from the source. Because why the heck didn’t my protagonists of choice represent me or my society? Why wasn’t my first thought to make them black? That being said, I know representation and relatability goes beyond skin colour and I respect that. Good story-telling is about good, well-fleshed out characters regardless of race but I came to find that it is was extremely important to pave way for diversity and characters who looked just like me because it was important. And it still is.

I wasn’t Zimbabwean when I hated my own hair and preferred it covered up or always plaited. I still find it difficult till this day to wear my hair naturally because I sometimes think it’s hideous. The shrinkage, the tangling and everything else that comes with it can be quite the challenge. But I am getting better and better every day. I can wear my hair in its shrunken state in public because WHY NOT? It’s my darned hair.

I wasn’t very Zimbabwean when I preferred rushing to my white English teacher for help with my screenplay when my supervisor was my black English teacher. That was totally racially motivated and every time I think about it I want to gauge my eyes out because ew. I remember during consultation day she expressed to my grandmother that I had deeply wounded her pride as a teacher by not consulting her first. I had undermined her intelligence and competence because she wasn’t white.

I could write an endless list of scenarios that display my past transgressions. By past transgressions I mean my internalised racism, inferiority complexes and so much more. Ew, what a dark, dark, dark past.

We aren’t very black or truly African when we associate criminality with black identity and positive attributes like intelligence or competence with white identity. Africans are always shocked when they realise that a white person committed a crime, often saying, “Ah, ikhiwa layo liyantshontsha?!” which means “Ah, white people also steal?”

You may not think that these are issues of minor importance but you’ll be surprised by how easily it can chip away at your soul without you realising it.

In the end…

I have come to understand and believe that my identity as an African or Zimbabwean is whatever I want it to be. No one can take it from me whether they call me a salad or an Oreo and I’m done letting internalised racism try to make me feel like being an African is bad or disgusting. I am Zimbabwean through and through. I know for sure I am working on becoming an African or Zimbabwean that I can be proud of.

• The “Weird” Brown Girl.