FREEDOM IS A FEELING

As Black History Month rolls around, I think about my birth place, Kwa Zulu Natal, on the east coast of Africa where Zulus dance and sing songs of hunting, of war, of love, of freedom.
The Zulus, who were, for almost half a century, suppressed under the apartheid system, took their emotions and gave them sound, rhythm and form, which, when united with their brothers and sisters empowered them to work, grieve, celebrate, and pray with a passion that resonated throughout the land.
Growing up it was common to hear what sounded like the thunderous rhythm of a train’s pistons when hundreds of Zulu labourers formed a line and chanted as they pounded their picks into the tar to excavate roads in the elitist city of Durban. Or on other occasions to witness a thousand Zulus dressed in tribal gear and rattling seed pods, stamping and shuffling, kicking and gyrating in traditional style. Song and dance is a natural response for a Zulu - they feel it and they do it. Even as maids ironed clothes, they swayed and sung as their feet moved to the pennywhistle jive tunes that crackled from transistor radios.
I sometimes wonder, in the ‘free’ western world, shackled by our ego, how free we really are? How often do we ‘not’ sing in church or in a group setting because we believe ‘we can’t hold a tune’? How often do we sit out at dances because we’re sure ‘we’ve got two left feet’? Are some of us living in this paradise of ours behind bars?
I am so blessed to have been raised in Africa amongst the Zulu nation who, no matter their history, treasure their heritage and are not too shy to demonstrate to the world how proud they are to be known as the people of heaven. Not held hostage by their feelings. But truly free.