WHEN you hear of financial and sexual abuses fellow citizens undergo at the hands of priests, founder church prophets and tsikamutandas you begin to wonder whether there is something inherently wrong, genetic, in us that makes us so spiritually pliable?
Digging deep into history you find we have always had an uneasy relationship with the whiteman and his religion.
I have just been going through a 1559 letter by Father D. Goncalo, writing from Goa, India, to the Brothers of the Society of Jesus in Portugal.
This was just over half a century after the Portuguese had negotiated their way round the Cape to enter the Indian Ocean and East Africa. From their settlement in Goa, India, they now oversaw the Christianisation of the east African coast and its interior.
In this particular letter, Father D Goncalo was reporting on the Church’s mission to the Kingdom of Inhambane, in what is Mozambique today and plans for the conversion of Mwenemutapa (Mutapa).
The letter is full of racist prejudices of the time but reading between the lines I am left throwing questions for my ancestry to answer.
I am not mad about the Society of Jesus describing their enterprise as a “mission to Kaffraria where all the people are very black and live along the coast of the cape that they call Good Hope”.
These are or were Christian manners. I, however, get unsettled when I read “….these people are so subtle that they exchange gold for glass and for cloth made of tow, so you need not fear that they will go to see our Realm for gold or silver.”
Are these not the hazards that we face when Chivanhu meets with chitsotsi? Is this not the blurred line between being nice and being foolish?
With regards the preparedness of the kingdom of Inhambane to receive Jesus Christ, Goncalo wrote, “…it is better than all the other Gentile nations to be found in these parts, most of which are corrupted by the infernal sect of Mohamed and even mixed with pestilential Jews, but this nation is free from them…”
Nothing new here for, historically, Christianity has always been intolerant of other religions.
My concern is rather on the extent Chivanhu, with its humane qualities, is the faulty line on which other religions penetrate us? This is about our inability to say no, mavato in spirituality.
Goncalo continued to patronise, “In regard to the superstitious habits of paganism, this nation is more free and innocent of them than any other in this land and it seems that few roots of the deceit of idolatry are to be found there.”
This is clearly an exaggeration given the spread of the Great Zimbabwe civilisation and Mwari religion during that time.
What worries me most though is the perception of our spiritual emptiness. Could this be a reading of our politeness and humility of our Chivanhu, our tolerance for others’ spirituality or lack thereof?
The following is perhaps the most infuriating of Goncalo’s remarks, “This is best shown by the Portuguese who are there among them when they tell us that the Kaffirs look upon them as gods and ask them for water and sun.”
In some Bantu languages like Chewa, God is “Mulungu” and whiteman is “Muzungu”, the latter being Shona for a Portuguese. The God/whiteman murungu issue clearly discomforting for me. Could this be about Chivanhu and trade relations?
When someone gives you something that you very much desire, we remark, “Mambo wangu” or “Mwari wangu”. Could this expression of gratitude and humility in our Chivanhu have morphed into racial inferiority and mental slavery?
Father Goncalo continues, “This land is also at peace being free from the wars and other revolts that are found in many of the Gentile nations the Kaffirs who are in the hinterland are discerning men, well inclined and gentle for us to instill with our holy religion.”
In Shona we say, “Tsitsi dzinotsikirira”. Our Chivanhu, our “mutsa”, that is, our good manners or humanity, made us good candidates for economic and spiritual exploitation.
On the Mutapa, Gonacalo wrote in same letter, “Besides this (Inhambane) kingdom which, so it seems, is so close to receiving the light of Jesus Christ, you may imagine, brethren, how many others lie open along all those provinces of the Cape of Good Hope and in them is very specially included the emperor of Manamotapa in whose power, they say, there are mines and hills of gold and in whose seat is near Sofala”.
Clearly the motivation was much more than spiritual. It was about getting to the gold riches via the conversion of the Mutapa, as Goncalo proceeds with his partial confession, “We are also informed that it will not be long before he receives the faith.”
Once the Portuguese missionaries set their foothold, the land that had been reputed for its peace and tranquility was burning in many civil wars.
A people that had been described as well inclined and gentle had become war animals in defense of fatherland.
In this land a spiritual war had erupted but save for a few battles one like the Mbokorume over Father Goncalo da Silveira, a few years after this letter, and escapades during the 19th Century anti-colonial resistance, we have lost the war.
Nearly five hundred years after the letter quoted above, we are still pliable subjects for missionary evangelical work. Our politeness, humility, gentleness, in other words Chivanhu chedu, that makes us shy from protecting our own spirituality, has left us at the mercy of wealth mongers, so-called prophets and tsikamutandas, no different from Goncalo’s Society of Jesus. Five hundred years ago we parted with our gold and peace, today we are surrendering life savings, cattle and kinships to please charlatans for prophets.