Incwala

I am in the middle of a 7-day trip to Swaziland. Today I had the honour of being invited to take part in a tribal ceremony along with about 900 other men. For the best part of it I was the only foreigner, the only white man. An honour it was indeed!

Incwala is the most sacred Swazi tribal ceremony. This is when the king grants permission for the people to eat the ‘first fruits’ of the year. Men from all over the kingdom make their way to the royal residence at Lobamba and build a ‘kraal’. This is a large circular wooden enclosure. They then perform dances and sing songs inside the kraal for a number of days as they wait for the king to come before his people to give his blessing.

I went along with two girls with the intention of merely being a spectator. The way it works, there are two entrances to the kraal. The men enter from one side and the women from the other. Having first removed my shoes, I went in through the one entrance expecting to meet up with the girls inside. However, once I had entered the enclosure the possibilities of this was cut out by the presence of about 100 head of cattle directly in front of me. I didn’t see the girls again until afterwards.

The majority of the men were in traditional Swazi dress whilst a small number were in military uniforms. At first, I stood at the side with the elders as the rest of the men swept around the enclosure in a large circle in a kind of dancing, marching style, herding the cattle in front of them. After this had gone on for about 10-15 minutes, all the men formed ranks facing the entrance that the women, the King and his wives would be coming through. Then everyone proceeded to start a slow dance/chant. It was very slow and rhythmic. The elders had re-joined the rest of the men at this stage. Whilst I would have been content to just stand at the side still and watch, they beckoned me to come and join their ranks. So I did. One thing I haven’t mentioned is that all the men and a wooden staff that they were using as part of their dance. Perhaps in place of a spear, I thought. I was without one of these. Luckily, one of the elders had a spare.

So there I was, a solitary white man dancing a sacred African tribal, ceremonial dance with several hundred men, wooden staff in hand. I lost track of time, but I think that we danced there for about an hour.

This was quite a surreal experience and one I wasn’t expecting to find. It’s funny how the best ones work out like that. Needless to say, it is one I will always remember.