CONFESSIONS OF A TRANCE-ETHNIC SISTER

Confessions of a Trance Ethnic Sister

Igama lam Nohombile (My name is Nohombile)

People who know me well know that ii only really appreciate 2 genres of music. Reggae of course is my gospel music and then ii truly appreci-love the Trance scene especially psychedelic trance. One of the main reasons ii love these two genres is because both bring me closer to my own ancestral roots. When ii am at a trance party ii spend the entire weekend on the dance floor stomping my staff and calling pon the ancestors and when ii leave ii feel rejuvenated…rebirthed.

Growing up in apartheid South Africa was no joke for someone like me because since ii was a very young girl ii have felt that ii was born unto the wrong family and ii sadly recall being chased off the streets by the normal police as well as the military police, so that’s double duppy Babylon just for speaking to people of colour on the side of the road, who happened to work inside the dock yard of the naval base where ii grew up.

This was to be one of the biggest blessings of all the suffering.

My whole life Black people have naturally approached me and informed me that they can ‘see’ my ancestors and ii seemed to possess comprehension of this from a very young age, almost like a spiritual calling if you will, and this is how ii came to realise that there is something very different about me.  This thing that is different is my YAH Light.

When ii was 9 years old ii was blessed with my first Rastafari teacher Brother Joseph and he started to give me the lessons.

In 1981 ii was 12 years old when my drunken discriminatory white father called the police on me because ii had pictures of black men on my bedroom wall.  My father reasoned that ii must be smoking Cannabis because he believed that Cannabis made white girls want to sleep with black men. Gosh ii was 12 years old and yes ii did have these posters of my YAH His Majesty Haile Selassie I Emperor of Ethiopia and of The Wailers and yes they were all very good looking Kings for sure.

Also ii had this poster which ii only recently managed to find again of Ras Mortimo Planno who was Bob Marley’s teacher and was most influential in ensuring that certain Rastafari messages were portrayed through his music.

The police were burning red bush tea leaves on the stove top and ii was to confess that this was what Cannabis smelt like…ii hadn’t even seen the plant yet in my life. 

But what really upset the police was my Ethiopian flag which they burnt in front of me along with my posters. My refusal to inform them where ii got the flag encouraged my father to instruct the police to take ii down to the police station to be ‘sjambokked’. A sjambok is a crude whip style weapon designed to inflict massive pains on humans and animals.  As a 12 year old even ii thought it seemed pretty obvious living in a naval base where ii got the flag from but ii still weep for that flag to this day.

In those days the police rode around in yellow panel vans which ii called “cheese vans” and so ii was loaded into the back of a cheese van and taken to the police station.

Through the grace of His Majesty ii was not beaten but instead ii sat with these white policemen and ii explained all that ii had learnt from Brother Joseph about Rastafari to them the whole night while we listen to Bob Marley and drink coffee. Needless to say ii did not go to school the next day.

There were very few people ii knew as a child who had tolerance for inter-racial friendships and ii quickly bore the nick name of “kaffir-boetjie” which is a terrible pet name to have and ii cannot even translate this disgusting term.

So ii grew up with my fellow white people hating me and later in life some people of colour would also dislike me as ii was accused of ‘pretending’ to be something that ii am not.

In my admission of praying to a Black God, the social and racial discrimination ii have had to face since my childhood has been an exhausting and heavy burden and even though ii still get a bitter taste in my mouth ii stand firm in the Light of The Lord to guide me into One Love.

As a young girl ii would lean on the fences of The Marcus Garvey Camp and beg for the lessons of His Majesty.  The brothers would chase me from the fence telling me that there is no such thing as a ‘white Rasta’.

So throughout my life it has been a struggle to get the Iducation of my faith but ii give thanks to The Most High for sending such worthy teachers who show me nothing but pure love and patience.

This is my Master Brother Judah of House of Judah Mtata River Mouth rural Transkei with my niece Noloyiso. She was also a trance-ethnic white Xhosa and my Master and my isi-Xhosa family accepted her as if she were my own child which she really was since she walked the Rastafari path with me.

This is a rare pic of myself with my isi-Xhosa Mama and Tata and my brother Kikie, as they are conservative and do not like having their photograph taken and ii feel the same way.  We are not a paparazzi family.

This pic was taken the day after my naming ceremony in 2013.  Terrible news had just been received as we learnt that my dawta-niece had been abducted from Park Station in Johannesburg and my sister requested that ii must please go to East London since ii was in the Transkei as there was a chance that she had been found.  

She had not been found and after being missing for 18 days she freed herself  and 18 other young girls from a Nigerian whore house where she had been beaten, her nose broken, her body full of injection punctures from the drugs and she had been raped by around 140 different men. Six months after ii took her back to her mother she freed herself by taking her own life. RIP JAH Lady.

What does Trans-Ethnic mean?

A lot of people will tell you that there is no such thing as a trans-ethnic person being a person who identifies with an ethnic culture other than the one they were born into.

For me it was the isi-Xhosa nation with whom ii identified and as soon as ii completed the schooling ii left the least integrated city in the world to this day, Cape Town, for the rural Eastern Cape where ii knew in my soul that ii would find comfort and love from my people. 

They will also tell you that this is the personification of white guilt which ii actually accept and have witnessed…the difference with myself is that ii realised my ‘disability’ before the age of 6 years old and 44 years later ii am still on the same path.

In my life ii have seen many white people insincerely try to identify with the isi-Xhosa culture but they always seem to have the luxury of ducking and diving the very real burdens that come with being part of another ethnic culture.  For example ii have never seen another white lady carry a 20 litre bucket of water from the ‘tep’ on her head even though ii have tried to teach some in vain.

Personally ii find it disrespectful on the part of white people who believe that they can simply choose their ethnic group without actually experiencing these burdens and actually living with the people.

Earlier this year the creative people from Bell Pottinger started a rumour here in South Africa that all white people will be forced to take an African name and they were doing a survey as to what names these white people would choose.  Oh dear YAH was ii outraged with this fake news and ii almost sent a fireful email to our Home Affairs Department. 

It took my isi-Xhosa family a long time to name me and for many years ii walked with the nick name “Nqabile” which they told me means “scarce and precious” and then eventually my Mama came up with the name “Nohombile” which she told me means “Well groomed and friendly with the people” Truly to this day ii remain humbled through my naming.

My Mama and Tata insisted that ii must go back to Babylon and ensure that ii enter my isi-Xhosa name in the population register so that it appears in my identity documents. My Tata said that he wanted everyone to know that ii belonged to an African family and they also instructed me to never remove my “twaza’ beads so that people could see that ii had the training. It was truly like a rebirthing because Home Affairs took a full 9 months to approve the inclusion of my isi-Xhosa name.

So ii have worked very hard for my African heritage and this is why ii was so upset because the thought that the government would just hand out African names was an abomination in my eyes.

This is another rare pic taken with some of my neighbour’s children where ii dwell in a "Black Squatter Camp" (gettho or shanty town) on the top of a mystical mountain in the middle of Creation happily surrounded by my people ii just love these youths to the moon and back they inspire me so much.

For me personally the experience of ethnic dysphoria is a place between confusion and fear.

Dysphoria is the opposite of euphoria, so it’s a state of uncomfortable awkwardness and an overall dissatisfaction with life in general since you are unable to feel positive about your future because you cannot even be joyful in your own skin or family. 

In the years ii was living in the rural ii would get the rare phone call from a white person offering concern for my ‘safety’.  “But aren’t you scared of the people?” they would ignorantly ask and my only response could be that in truth ii was more afraid of the cows and goats. 

They were truly horrified that ii could tell them that ii was the only white person living in a village with 5000 black people and ii did not even have a lock on my hut’s door just a piece of string so my family could see if ii was in or out. True freedom ii tell you...

To be honest ii truly unlove my whiteness and ii am deeply ashamed of the appalling actions of my white ancestors.

They came to Africa to intentionally steal my people’s land, medicine, gold and silver and to force my people to believe that they can only seek their heaven after they die. They did this by creating colonialism so they would not have to pay for any of the African treasures they thieved from my people.

This same doctrine has brought disgrace to both black and white people causing both to die in dishonor.

Who am ii really?

It is my personal belief that all of us humans originate from Africa and when ii look upon the eyes of King Adam Kok V ii can see the faces of all nations in his eyes. But deep in my heart there is a true sense that not all white people were created in the usual way and it would not come as a complete surprise to me to learn that we are all part of an exotic extraterrestrial experiment.

Certainly ii am not the first person to indulge in cultural imitation and indeed ii have been falsely accused by white people of being that awkward white girl who appears to manifest her own prejudice.

Ethnic expression is not really a choice to actually become a certain ethnic group which you are not but rather it is a choice to express the ethnic group which you know you are…the ethnicity that is actually programed into your soul.

It is a completely different feeling to for example wishing that you were born rich, blond, Latino with big blue eyes and so on.  This is a profoundly deep and mystical experience and this journey is often filled with trials and tribulations.

People should be free to choose to hide their ancestry just as other people are free to highlight their preferred parts of their heritage.

It has become necessary for me to accept certain truths and to refuse to be defined by other people’s opinions.  For the only opinion ii am concerned with is that of my Mighty YAH. King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah. Rastafari.

And ii truly believe that my YAH knows me because HE created me and HE is working though me, this is why His Majesty sent Brother Joseph and other teachers to me at such a young age so ii could learn the lessons of African Cosmology and other truths and pass these on to the youth.

So even though ii may simply be an ordinary white sister who deeply identifies with the black community and who shares a deep overstanding of universal love with black people…none of this makes me black…and this ii must accept through embracing and loving my whiteness.

After all surely who ii wish to be is who ii should be allowed to be?

People can ask me ‘what are you trying to be?’ and ii can only answer and say “ii am all of them…Black White Chinese... ii am all of the ethnic groups…even the ones ii don’t know about yet”.

Personally ii have never tried to enact blackness, ii have never painted my body black, only grey actually for ceremonial purposes. To become successful as a black person one actually has to be black. What ii have tried to do is embrace my chosen culture, The isi-Xhosa nation, the culture which chose me, and humble myself to learn from my people who are blessed with High Wisdom.

Black people have literally bled for their culture this is exactly why it is their culture.

We are blessed to be invited to taste and experience and appreciate the beauty of another culture but we are in no way entitled to these cultures because we have not made any sacrifices like black people have. Culture is not something you can simply adopt and it cannot simply be adapted. It is not a fashion statement or a costume or a tool to fit in on the internet.

Being chosen to become part of a black community is the biggest honour ever bestowed upon my life. My tribal scars are above my eyebrow bones because my Xhosa family insisted that ii must bleed more as this might encourage the ancestors to offer mercy for my personal responsibility. When ii was cut it felt as though ii would surely lose both eyes as my sockets filled up with blood and ii would humbly have accepted blindness as redemption from the ancestors.

This story of “I don’t see colour” is also disrespectful to the intelligence of black people. It’s a feeble attempt at trying to immunize oneself against taking responsibility for individual behaviour which continues to reinforce systemic Babylon inequalities and divides.

To deny that you see colour difference is to implore ignorance and creates embarrassment for all white people. It also utterly undermines the struggles, battles and discrimination which people of colour have had to endure under white oppression.

The only type of people our world needs right now are people who are concerned with the positive upliftment of Black people.

We are all connected, no one is self- sufficient, and we all need each other and everything in nature.

So the concept of sharing is something a lot of people will be learning for the first time and this is for me is the number one difference between black and white people…white people do not know how to share. They also do not know how to greet…and even ii have met white people who were living in the rural with the black people for over 25 years some of them and ii ask them “Why did you not make an effort to learn the language?” to which most responded that it was far too difficult. Well ii can confirm for sure Kunzima tete isi-Xhosa but this is what is required if you are serious about learning the culture.

It is my dying hope that surely even people who have never tried to portray themselves as belonging to another ethnic group could humble and show compassion to the feeling of being out of place, awkward and unaccepted by all groups.

My personal trans-ethnic experience has raised many conversations over the years that a lot of people didn’t even realise we all needed to have.

It is perfectly possible for a person to be out of sync with their skin colour based on how they are feeling deep inside their soul. All we need to do is unlove the hatred which is intentionally spread to divide YAH Children.

SOURCES:

Xhosastyles.blogspot

House of Judah Mtata Mouth

Huffington Post 

National Geographic

The History of White People - Nell Irwin Painter

The Holy Bible