The politics of camagu

Growing up umama used to give me valuable information I took for granted. For example, my love for body art came out of a conversation with her about umvambo because she used the phrase "ukunyamezela umvambo" often and I would ask her "yintoni umvambo" and so the conversation would lapse into history and language and pictures (more on that in a post when I write about the tattoo sleeve that's almost complete). Another conversation was about simple words we took for granted: molo/molweni.

Mama told me molo(hello) comes from the Afrikaans word môre (morning). She says when she was growing up she often heard people say bhota/bhotani. In fact, when she moved to Ezibeleni after she married tata she was impressed by the consistency of the people who used bhota/bhotani; she hardly ever heard the use of molo. Much to her delight I'm sure.

So imagine my pride when I read that mama was in fact teaching me something that W. B. Rubusana writes about in his book Zemk'iinkomo Magwalandini. In the first part of the book Rubusana is introduced as iLungu lokuqala lePalamente kwabamNyama baseSouth Africa, umfundisi weHlelo laseRhabe, IPresident yokuqala yeSouth African Native Convention. His cv places him firmly in the early African elite intellectuals of the 19th century. His works are regarded as classics even though they are not available in public circulation. The book was first published in 1906 by Lovedale Press. Even though I studied isiXhosa for two years at university, this is the first time I have laid eyes on the book.

I came across an extract in the book which reminded me of my mother's lessons: Imibuliso (Greetings).

I was struck by how succinct this section was and that an W.K.N. is referenced. I've been telling people about the use of bhota/bhotani and I was beginning to feel like mama made it up because I was yet to find a direct reference so people would believe me when I tell them about the origins of the word. I was also reminded of a talk I attended last year where I heard the speaker unpack the use of the word molo with a political framework. That in fact, part of the colonial project was to disconnect us from our languages and replace them with words from Afrikaans and English. And the greetings are the most stark. The speaker gave an example of the word camagu. 

My encounter with this word was from iintlombe that were held ekhaya when umama wayethwasela ubugqirha. I never heard the word used anywhere else and I associated it with ukuthwasa nezinyanya which meant I didn't see it as meaningful for my daily life which was about Christianity. The origins of camagu relate to amacam, another word for water. I am yet to unpack the significance of a greeting that invokes water and has been marginalised and misunderstood in the same way that African Spirituality has been misunderstood and marginalised. 

When I posted this picture on Facebook friends of mine made comments about their relationship with the words we use for greetings. One friend spoke about the process of being distanced from the kind of isiXhosa she spoke ezilalini kokwabo when she arrived in boarding school. It seems getting an education was tantamount to being enculturated into speaking a version of isiXhosa that would distance her from her family life. She reflects: "sasibuya ezilalini sasigxekwa ngesiXhosa sethu ekwakusithiwa sinzulu kwaye kusithiwa asihambi namaxesha. We started to doubt ourselves ke sawayeka amagama". Ridicule and scorn are still part of our education system which alienates African children from their history and languages. 

When I first started talking about the word camagu another friend equated it to the more popular word namaste which means the divine in me greets the divine in you. This is striking given the wide acceptance for Indian spirituality without acknowledging the similarities between ancient spiritual practices. My friend added that she had begun using the word after we spoke about it and this is what happened: "After we spoke about "camagu" I have started saying it to my Xhosa friends which often gets the reaction of "uliqgirha ngoku"?". This reflects the suspicion and perhaps ignorance many people hold not only for our languages but more importantly, ancient spiritual practices which have been painted in a negative light by the kind of Christianity which we received via the colonial project.

I still haven't used the word camagu. It feels weird. Mostly because I know I will have to explain myself. But perhaps this is the work of decolonising even the most mundane such as greeting. Except greeting is not mundane. Growing up I listened to adults who had very elaborate ways of greeting. Kwakubuzwa impilo and one could visit someone for an entire afternoon because ebezobuza impilo. My uncles used to tease my gran who used to lament their behaviour when someone simply asked "ninjani Bhele". She would answer "Hayi siyaphila, ngaphandle nje ngokuhlutshwa ngooThulani..." and continue berating my uncles for their debauchery and the anguish it caused her. My uncle would respond "Yintoni le nto usenza impilo ngathi" because for him, my gran's elaborate answer was unnecessary. But ukubuzwa impilo allowed people an opportunity to vent and share what was really on their heart. But now we live in the world of "I'm fine" and that's accepted as an answer because life must continue and quite frankly, no one is interested in impilo yakho.  

Maybe I'll challenge myself more and more and become comfortable with the word camagu, ndikhe ndibuze nempilo. My friend, Xoli, reckons there's no harm in the word molo because "I like the different varieties rather than discarding anything. I like to collect words that would be synonyms kule mihla ke". While I agree with her, I love words and collecting new words, but camagu presents an opportunity for us to rethink the mundane and consider the political and spiritual in the things we take for granted.