adminis different from one individual to the other.
In some churches and apostolic sects, an individual attains a new name upon baptism to suit the beliefs of the religion.
The name is usually of great significance to the person and the church.
But for the Shangaan people of Zimbabwe’s Chiredzi area, a name does not just end with being identified from the next person.
It is not what a child was christened at birth or what is written on a birth certificate or national identity card.
A name is something that should run deep in the veins of an individual and means a lot in their culture. It is something that should be earned, not given on a silver platter.
Whether a boy or a fully grown up man, a customary name one gets after spending a month in the bush during the male circumcision ceremony is of grand significance.
Every man and boy in the area yearns to have that name, but it is only the brave ones that undergo the male circumcision who are honoured and will proudly carry it for the rest of their lives.
The names are one of the most effective ways of preserving their culture, and the way the Shangaan community values them shows that it is one likely to see the end of time.
“The names are given according to characteristics presented by someone during the one month long stay in the wilderness,” says Brian Masiya 17 now known as Layani.
He arrogantly explains that he was given the name Layani when he graduated from circumcision school a few years ago.
“I was named Layani because I would always counsel my ‘weak’ colleagues in camp.
“I was the stronger one there as most where small kids.
“At graduation I was honoured with the name,” says Layani refusing to shed more light into exactly what he did to earn the name.
He adds: “Circumcision defines who we are. You cannot get any leadership position if not circumcised because people look down upon you. As a leader you use the Shangaan name.”
Fourteen-year-old Abvious Bhasikiti, a late school enroller is a proud holder of a Shangaan name.
He stays with his parents but faces many challenges one of them dropping out of school at Grade 6.
His poor parents would no longer afford to pay his fees of US$20 per term. He now spends his time herding cattle in this dry part of the country.
But going into circumcision camp with other boys his age and men as old as 50 at the beginning of last month turned his life around.
He is now a happy “man” and his woes have been washed away by the new name he proudly carries.
Despite failing to finish formal education, where he has to grasp the ABCDs and add math, he gained the respect of the community, ahead of many uncircumcised men who went to school.
The community now recognises and respects in existence. They now call him Hasani, the Shangaan name he was “christened” after circumcision.
He says this tradition has been in existence since time immemorial, no one knows when it started, but its teachings have been passed from generation to generation.
“Yes, Hasani is my new name. I am happy, proud and now a man. Joy is what I feel. I want to encourage all the young people to go and get circumcised so that they have an identity.
“We want people to respect us. I can even be chosen to lead some important things in our community ahead of educated uncircumcised men,” he emphasises.
He adds that since he is not in school, his duty is to move around informing other boys his age to go for circumcision.
At least that is the best he can do for his community who honoured him with a name.
Hasani does not only have a name to be proud of, he also knows his HIV status.
He was tested for HIV by Population Services International employees. Doctors from the Ministry of Health and Child Welfare circumcised him in this rare marriage between Shangaan people, the Ministry of Health and Child Welfare, National Aids Council, UNFPA and UNAIDS.
The health officials cut off the fore skin in tents outside the traditional camp and allow the men to go and join others. But the marriage has some restrictions, the doctors are not allowed inside the camps as they are not either part of the Shangaan culture, or have not been circumcised.
There could be some sort of waiver if they had been circumcised, carry names and know the ways of the Shangaan people. So the naming of the circumcised men is done by their traditional leaders.
Robert, who was named Hlayisi when he graduated this year said his new name simply means a shepherded.
“I think the leaders identified me as a principal who is able to guide others in what we were doing.
“I will not tell you much of what we do. I will pay a fine of a cow if it is known that I have revealed our secrets,” he said.
Other names given to the men include Tihosi, which translates to kings or chiefs. Some men have walked out of the bush with names like Thinyiko meaning Gift.
Names like Hlelani (dzokai or return) are given to men who are not “ripe” but show a lot of passion of what they will be taught during circumcision.
Society also plays a role in the circumcision process. Women also encourage their uncircumcised husbands to go and join others so that they earn respect.
It is embarrassing to be married to an uncircumcised man as all people look down upon him.
Mrs Ellen Chiputu is one such woman who respects her culture.
A mother of four, she encouraged her three sons and son-in-law to go for circumcision so that they earn Shangaan names.
She was so determined that she is the one who volunteered to stay on the other side of the camp with 70 other women who were cooking for the circumcised men. He three-year-old grandson was
with her at the cooking area which is a few metres from the bushes where the circumcised men camped.
The three-year-old grandson will be on the other side of the camp in two years time and earn his name. But, this time, he was in a world of his own, fiddling and chatting, and prattling about oblivious of the gravity of the undertakings that brought him to the bush camp.
He is also with his grandmother during the graduation ceremony and singing to a few songs like the Hoko that he learnt. He will pass that song to many other generations once he knows what it means to the Shangaan. His grandmother speaks with pride her role in the preservation of their culture.
“I was cooking for my son-in-law, my sons, my brother who was a mudzabi (a middle man who takes care of the needs of the men in the camp and also collects cooked food from the women). All in all, I would cook for 11 men and am proud of it. They all have names,” she said ululating.
Her head, just like those of the circumcised men was shaved that even the faintest scar on her scalp was visible.
Philemon Mabasa (48) also known as Atishana is a father of three. He says he wants culture to go on until he dies.
He wants to see generations to come preserve their culture hence his participation in the circumcision camps every year.
He craves to pass on the knowledge and poems his elders taught him.
Mabasa explains the importance of the new names they get.
“In our community, they stop using the names given to them at birth and adopt the ones they attain in the bush.
“But, they keep the old names on their birth certificates for use in public places like schools, hospitals and work among others,” he explains.
Gezani was circumcised in 2009. He is proud of his name and does not want to be associated with his old name.
He is celebrating with a group of nine circumcised class of 2011 graduates at a homestead in their village.
He is now a mudzabi and leads in song and dance at the celebrations.
Gezani loves his beer, and takes a sip each time he finishes singing a song.
At the celebratory ceremony up to two cattle are killed depending on the number of people.
Those who drink beer, guzzle the traditional opaque beer while others drink maheu.
After the main exhibition at the chief’s homestead, the men move to their homes where they either celebrate as individuals or as groups. They start enjoying the new honour bestowed upon them and the respect they get from society.
Online Reporter