By Nthungo YaAfrika
THE ‘modern-day’ African was taught to believe that theology is synonymous with the divine will of the Creator.
Yet a deeper inspection reveals a panoply of definitions. The word ‘theology’ is derived from the Greek ‘theo’, meaning god or divine, while ‘logy’, means ‘study of’ or ‘science of’.
The term ‘divine’ stems from the Latin ‘divinus’, meaning ‘of’ or ‘pertaining to a deity’, and ‘deity’ references a supernatural being or object possessing miraculous powers.
These conceptual layers, borrowed from foreign tongues and frameworks, have done little to unify us as a people; rather, they have fragmented our understanding and language.
Closer to home, consider the etymology of ‘native’ from Latin ‘nativus’, meaning born in a particular place, and ‘indigenous’ from ‘indigena’. Even ‘village’ is from Old French, ultimately from the Latin ‘vibticum’, meaning a farm or country estate.
These are not simply academic trivia, they are signals of how deeply we have internalised foreign systems of naming and meaning. Our original language systems, like Senzar or Butuwa, which once unified our identity and cosmos, have been supplanted.
Our ancestors found spiritual inspiration in the universe, circularity symbolised holiness, a sacred concept now lost to modernity.
We have, tragically, embraced His-Story as the true account of our past, without questioning its origins or intentions. His-Story has no place for Nehanda; it pours cold water on her spirit. His-Story is a product of our ancestors’ spiritual derailment when they split the Creator into three personalities — Horus, Osiris and Isis — a distortion echoed today in the Christian Trinity. This corrupted knowledge became the bedrock of systems that enslaved and colonised us.
Theology has served these systems well.
Mashangaidze Gomo’s powerful article on reparations in The Patriot of May 30–June 5 speaks eloquently to the spiritual and material debt owed to our people. But the majority of our race has lost its connection to the Creator — the very force we must first repatriate ourselves to.
The Book of Jasher, referenced only fleetingly in the Christian Bible, offers vital clues to our spiritual reclamation. But how many will believe this, when our minds have been shackled by a foreign curriculum designed to pacify, not awaken?
The education system, with its curriculum and syllabus, was not designed for our spiritual elevation. It was crafted by those who wanted control of our body, mind and soul. Until our race can acquire common sense, not taught in our schools, we will remain spiritually and mentally colonised.
Jeremiah 5:30-31 describe this condition with terrifying clarity: Our leaders lie, our prophets deceive, and our people love it so. We have chosen blindness over the sound of the horn, the ancient call, the voice of Nehanda.
Theology has never been our friend. It aligned itself with slavery and colonialism and has since morphed into neo-colonialism and mental bondage. It seeks to kill the spirit of Nehanda but has only delayed her renaissance. Our spiritual Egypt, the corruption of divine order, is the greatest threat to our liberation.
In Jeremiah 43, the Creator warns against fleeing to Egypt, but the allure of Western riches, the pound and the dollar, drowns out that voice.
Yet all is not lost.
Nehanda lives.
Her spirit cannot be extinguished by theology because it is rooted not in doctrine but in cosmic truth. The Chinese are challenging the global order because they preserved their spiritual heritage. Ours, richer and older, lies dormant because we refuse to embrace it.
What if Zimbabwe had embraced the spirit of Nehanda fully?
We would be where we are destined to be — at the pinnacle of human civilisation.
The Zimbabwean Government has already taken the first noble step by erecting a memorial to Nehanda, represented by Mbuya Charwe. The next step is to institutionalise her spirit to empower those positively identified by her to lead the way. These individuals cannot be self-appointed; they must be chosen through manifesting signs, guided by scriptures (like 1 Kings 18).
Our race never had a religion; it had a way, the Way of the Creator, first followed by Enoch, then corrupted by the Pharaohs, and split into the many religions we know today.
From mythology to Islam, these systems diverted us from the Creator’s path. The Pharaohs initiated the corruption, but our ancestors reclaimed the path until internal divisions around the 14th century left us vulnerable.
Nehanda, however, remained true. Her spirit chose Zimbabwe, then an uncontaminated land, and manifested in Mbuya Charwe. Even when others fell to the spirit of Baal, Nehanda stood firm. Her resistance became the bedrock of our liberation.
Yet, even after political independence, spiritual corruption persists.
Many Zimbabweans now say: “You can’t eat a spirit.”
But this mindset is the very reason hunger, disease, and ignorance persist on a continent more blessed than any other. The Government must not be discouraged by the current spiritual poverty. It must persist in its mission to spiritually emancipate the nation and continent by honouring Mbuya Nehanda, the only global custodian of the way of the Creator.
The AU must be taught the significance of Nehanda. We were once one, guided by her spirit. As the Son of Man said in John 8:32: “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.”
That truth is Nehanda.
Her rejection in Zimbabwe makes it hard for the rest of Africa to see her, but the tide will turn. Theology, weighed down by its man-made dogmas, cannot match her manifesting power.
Capitalism must be removed from our national philosophy. It creates division, greed and spiritual poverty. It fosters the ‘I, Me and Myself’ syndrome that has dismembered our race. Our people lack true knowledge, understanding and love. Even the Tambou Bible, corrupted as it is, mentions love 26 times. But we read it without understanding because we prefer the book over the Creator’s way.
Reparations talk will remain futile without spiritual unity. Theology does not acknowledge Nehanda, so her own people despise her. But she cannot be defeated. Zimbabwe, as the spiritual custodian of Nehanda, will eventually rise to rescue the entire African race, both on the continent and in the Diaspora.
The NGO programmes teaching our elders about healthy eating and aging seem helpful. But they highlight our disconnection from our indigenous knowledge.
Teaching our own people about the benefits of indigenous fruits and vegetables is like teaching lions how to hunt. The concept of ‘dariro’, the communal circle, has disappeared. That is the tragedy of our race.
Rachel, in Jeremiah 31, weeps for her children. Nehanda’s grief is greater; she weeps for an entire race lost in confusion. During the liberation struggle, we sang of her and fought with three tools: guns, anti-aircraft defences and the spirit.
We have achieved political independence. Now we must seek spiritual freedom.
Heaven on earth existed here before the Tambous arrived. That is the reality Nehanda wants restored. A Zimbabwe without hunger, disease and spiritual confusion is not a dream — it is our rightful inheritance.
Theology cannot stop this. It can delay, distort, or deny, but it cannot defeat.
We must return to the spirit of Nehanda, the true guardian of the Creator’s way. The Renaissance has begun. And no theology, no colonial doctrine, no foreign philosophy can extinguish it.