By Lungani Zungu
The festive season always means one thing to me: a trip away from the crowded and noisy city of Durban, to my homestead in Mandeni, a place of peace and serenity.
Perched on the foot of rolling hills, my village is called Mhambuma and is about 120 kilometres north of Durban, in KwaZulu-Natal.
A few kilometres from my house is the Msunduzi river, which flows on the front door sides of the house.
This breathtaking view, topped with the chirping of the birds, is a marvel for anyone who has been in a busy city such as Durban for the better part of the year.
Like many families, Christmas is always a hive of activity for my family. This year is no different.
The week ahead of Christmas usually kicks off with women preparing Umqombothi — the fermented traditional beer — which takes about five days of preparation.
On Christmas Day, while men would be downing traditional beer, women would be kneading dough to make Idombolo (dumpling) that would go with goat meat.
At this moment, men — who would have woken up in the early hours of the morning — would have already finished cooking goat meat that had been slaughtered the previous day.
It’s a big feast enough for everyone — including visitors and neighbours.
On Christmas Day morning, most houses are covered by plumes of smoke hovering above them from the outside fire cooking their meals using the traditional three-legged pot.
The camaraderie is always great among my family relatives as many of them only travel once, in December, to the homestead.
The elderly men of the family use the occasion to tell thrilling stories of wars between different warring villages in the area.
No matter how many times one would have heard a particular story being told, it always feels like one is hearing it for the first time when the tale is told again.
Ohh, I can’t wait for Christmas Day.
