Ramona Beam visits Moyo Family at Shauro

Recently I had the privilege of visiting for a weekend in the home of an Ndebele pastor’s family in a village in the area around Mberengwa, Zimbabwe.



This was such a wonderful time of learning for me, of both language and culture of the Ndebele people. The purpose of my visit was “language immersion”, in other words, to be in a place where the Ndebele language is spoken, and to learn about the culture of the Ndebele. Living in town as I do where most people speak English, it is sometimes a bit of a challenge to find language helpers willing to help me with practising my language skills.

My arrival coincided with the arrival of a volunteer team from the US, who were providing seed maize for the church members. The rains would begin soon signaling the start of the planting season, so this gift was greatly anticipated and appreciated. All the members of Shauro Baptist Church came to greet us, with singing, rejoicing, and prayers of thanksgiving.



After everyone had spoken to express their thanks, and had received their seeds, we all loaded up in our vehicles to go to the home of the Moyo family, where I would spend the weekend. After formal greetings and welcome, the volunteers left to go to their place of ministry, while I remained behind with the Moyo family. Baba Moyo is the lay leader of Shauro Baptist Church, and an elder in the church. He and his wife have three children, Ayanda, who is the oldest son, Busane (second son), Ntokozo (daughter), and Nkosi Khona, the baby and youngest son.



I was immediately shown to the room I was to be given for the weekend. I was amazed and very humbled to realize that I was being given Baba and Mama Moyo’s very own room, and I was to have the only bed the family owns. The entire family would sleep on the floor so that I could have their bed! When Mama Moyo tentatively asked if I would be willing to let their daughter sleep with me, of course I could do nothing but agree.

Our first task was to go and fetch water from the village borehole (well). Carrying enough water for the family (plus me as their guest) was no small task. Ayanda loaded up their water barrels onto the wheelbarrow, and Mama Moyo and I each carried additional buckets. The walk to the borehole was about a kilometer. Not too bad going there with our empty buckets, but quite another story on the return trip, carrying the water. I made an amazing discovery, however. It really is much easier to carry a bucket of water on one’s head than it is to carry it down by your side. I also learned why most African women I have met have such good posture and stand and walk so regally. It’s because, when you have a 20kg (44 lb.) bucket of water on your head, you must stand and walk very straight or risk an unexpected shower right then and there! I actually made it back to the kraal (homestead) without spilling. That is amazing in itself!

The next task was cooking supper. Since the weather was very, very hot, we decided to use the outdoor kitchen to cook the meal of isitshwala (or sadza, a paste made from mealie meal, or corn meal, about the consistency of mashed potatos—a staple in the diet here), chicken, and a vegetable sauce or gravy. When I say the outdoor kitchen, I’m not talking about a gas grill…first we had to build the fire, then kill the chicken and pluck the feathers before we could start cooking!

By the time we finished preparations and ate our meal, people from the village had begun to gather at the Moyo’s home. Before long, it seems the entire village was there, talking, visiting, and laughing together. Then, the singing started. There were songs and dances performed by the youth, children, and some of the adults. Rarely have I had the opportunity to be a part of such joyful celebration. It lasted well into the night, but eventually folks started drifting away to their homes, and everyone settled down to rest.

Early the next morning (the sun is up by 5am here during the summer months), everyone was up and dressed, and the day started. Work must be done early in the day during these months, because in the middle of the day it is too hot to do much outside in the sun. Mama Moyo seemed tireless in her energy, making sure all the children were bathed and dressed, making everyone’s breakfast (when I asked to help, she just directed me to sit; I could help after morning tea), and washing up the dishes from the night before. During the day, a seemingly endless stream of visitors came, mostly ladies coming to greet the white visitor. Some even brought gifts, some eggs, a bit of sugar or tea, and one lady even presented me with a staw mat she had made. Everyone helped me with language, teaching me new words and phrases, and how to use them properly.



After a day of visiting with these precious ladies and helping with household chores, once again the village gathered for singing and celebration. I asked Mama Moyo if they do this all the time, to which she replied, “No, it is because you are here.” This night, I was so humbled when there was a “Thanksgiving Ceremony”, during which many of the villagers made speeches and offered prayers, thanking God for my coming. What an honor and a blessing!

All too soon, Sunday morning came, time for my departure. I will always cherish the friendships I made during this special weekend, and hope to return for many more visits.

However, the weekend was not over. From Shauro, I rejoined the volunteers and we went on to Nyezi, another nearby village area, for a baptism service held by a new church that has been started in that area. Thirty were baptized in the river that morning. What an amazing time!