I am married to a zulu man. When I was young I had this long list of my ideal guy, you know that list right…
1. Tall and Handsome
… and my list went up to 40. Two things I forgot to be specific about was that HE MUST NOT BE ZULU, and HE MUST NOT BE A DJ. I assumed God knew how I felt about zulu men, and DJ’s, LOL. But you know he has a wicked sense of humour, so I got married to a Zulu DJ. Anyway, I grew up in a family where culture was not that important. My pa was a regte kleurling (coloured), my mother a tswana woman. As we were growing up we were taught how to honour God, respect our elders, to be highly independant, to be one with the family, to love each other unconditionally. Nothing about my culture, but then again I can’t blame my parents for this, What culture would that be? The tswana tradition has evolved so much that even Tswana’s themselves don’t know what is what. Mix that with a regte afrikaans speaking coloured, and Boom, Disaster. So you can imagine what a culture shock I got when I got married into a zulu family. Amazingly, I fell in love with how rich and intense their tradition is.
When we got married I was renamed by my mother is law, they do not call me Lebo, instead I’m Aphiwe (we are given). We did a ceremony last where my son was welcomed into the family and now this past weekend he had his 1st haircut. We had to drive all the way to Durban to have his hair cut to remind him of where home is. And all this happened on our 2yr anniversary…8 September 2012