by Unam Ntsababa and Luvuyo Mabe
This article has been a reflection on Audre Lorde’s words: “Your silence will not protect you.” Capturing Nongqawuse’s life and the profound impact of her prophecies is a complex challenge, one that seems to resist simplification. As I research and write, I feel a powerful urge to leave this story untouched, perhaps mirroring how Nongqawuse herself may have felt during the fateful Autumn of 1856. She, a girl of only 15, stood before the most powerful men in the Xhosa Kingdom, repeatedly recounting visions allegedly revealed to her by ancestors.
Nongqawuse’s early life
The origins of Nongqawuse’s story remain steeped in mystery. It is believed that she was born near the Gxarha River in the independent Xhosa Kingdom, on the border of British Kaffraria. Her father, Umhlanhla, of King Sarhili’s clan, had died when she was young, possibly during the War of Mlanjeni (the Eighth Frontier War), which orphaned her. She was adopted by her uncle, Mhlakaza, also known as Wilhelm Goliat.
Mhlakaza had a complex relationship with both traditional Xhosa spirituality and Christianity. He was a spiritualist who had once lived in the Cape Colony, where he became familiar with Christianity, being baptised as a Wesleyan Methodist and later confirmed as an Anglican. He had a strong disdain for Xhosa religious practices, viewing them through a Christian lens. However, in 1853, Mhlakaza returned to Xhosaland and resumed his role as a religious leader. He would come to play a central role in Nongqawuse’s life, interpreting her visions and organising their dissemination.
The prophecy
In April 1856, 15-year-old Nongqawuse and her friend Nombanda, then 8 to 10 years old, were tasked with scaring birds away from crops near the Gxarha River, in what is now South Africa’s Wild Coast. Upon returning, Nongqawuse claimed she had encountered the spirits of two ancestors, who delivered a message that would forever alter the course of Xhosa history. The spirits told her that:
- The dead would rise.
- All living cattle, contaminated by human sin, must be slaughtered.
- Crops should not be cultivated.
- New cattle enclosures, houses, and grain must be built and prepared.
- The Xhosa must abandon witchcraft, incest, and adultery.
In return, the ancestors would drive the European settlers into the sea, and the Xhosa would receive more beautiful cattle, replenished granaries, and renewed lands.
Mhlakaza, acting as Nongqawuse’s interpreter, spread this prophecy among the Xhosa, presenting it as the only path to rid the land of British settlers. The prophecy soon divided the Xhosa kingdom into two factions: believers, who followed Nongqawuse’s vision with hope, and non-believers, who feared it would lead to devastation. As history has shown, the prophecy’s aftermath brought tragic consequences, but there remain unanswered questions about why such a momentous message was embraced by many and how it should be interpreted in the context of African spirituality. The historical record leaves us with a haunting question: how could a 15-year-old girl be held accountable for the slaughter of over 400,000 cattle and the starvation of more than 40,000 people?
King Sarhili and his decision
King Sarhili ka Hintsa, the ruler of the Gcaleka Xhosa, was a key figure in this tragic event. He did not hesitate to accept his kingship and was determined to protect his people from British colonialism. The kingdom had suffered through wars, drought, and cattle disease, leaving the Xhosa vulnerable. In such dire circumstances, Sarhili, along with many other Xhosa leaders, saw hope in Nongqawuse’s prophecy. He gave his approval to the mass slaughter of cattle and the destruction of crops, hoping it would lead to the promised revival of the kingdom and the expulsion of the British.
Psychological impact and historical accountability
The acceptance of Nongqawuse’s prophecy and the subsequent actions taken by the Xhosa people can be seen as a manifestation of psychological warfare imposed on them by the relentless pressures of colonialism. The prophecy gave the Xhosa a sense of agency and control in a world where they felt increasingly powerless. However, when the promised miracles failed to materialise, the Xhosa were left destitute, their cattle gone, and their people starving.
This brings us to one of the most tragic aspects of this story: history’s scapegoating of Nongqawuse. How does one hold a 15-year-old girl accountable for the suffering of a nation? Nongqawuse, a young and impressionable girl, was thrust into a position of immense spiritual authority. A young orphan child who was not above manipulation. Perhaps this was perpetuated by her uncle Mhlakaza, perhaps by the desperation of her people, into a role far beyond her capacity to understand. Yet, in the aftermath of the cattle killings, it was Nongqawuse who bore the brunt of the blame, a tragic and lasting symbol of her people’s downfall.
Observing spiritual protocol
When we consider the realm of African spirituality, some hierarchies must be respected, and any profound spiritual vision, particularly one with such far-reaching implications, would traditionally undergo scrutiny from elders and spiritual guides. Yet, in the case of 15-year-old Nongqawuse, her prophecy quickly gained traction, leading to a catastrophe. Was the message of this young girl so compelling that it bypassed traditional procedures? Or, perhaps, were there deeper societal fractures at play that made people more susceptible to embracing such a prophecy?
I am not entirely denouncing Nongqawuse’s prophetic gifts. However, it’s essential to ask: Why wasn’t spiritual protocol observed? African spirituality acknowledges that spiritual gifts come with immense responsibility, and there are normally checks and balances in place to prevent potential misuse or misinterpretation. In this case, was there any effort to validate or challenge the vision in line with customary practices? Or was the community’s desperation to rid their land of colonial powers so overwhelming that due process was overlooked?
The human and fallible legacy of African spirituality
Nongqawuse’s story also invites reflection on the role of African spirituality today. Have we created a generation of spiritualists who are placed on a pedestal – deemed beyond human, beyond error, and beyond manipulation? Do we place enormous faith and responsibility in spiritual leaders? How often do we hold ourselves accountable for the expectations we place upon them? Do we critically evaluate their messages, or do we sometimes fall into the trap of blind belief, much like the followers of Nongqawuse?
The tragedy of Nongqawuse’s prophecy is a cautionary tale – not just about misplaced faith, but also about the dangers of placing spiritual leaders beyond scrutiny. The pedestal on which we place our spiritual guides can sometimes lead to irresponsibility – both from the spiritual leaders and the community that follows them. How do we balance our reverence for spiritual leaders with the necessary responsibility they should carry? Furthermore, how do we, as a community, ensure that our belief systems remain anchored in wisdom, discernment, and collective accountability?
Was it political manipulation?
The enigmatic role of Mhlakaza raises further questions. Mhlakaza’s Christian background and his previous close ties to European missionaries add an element of suspicion. Was the prophecy purely spiritual, or was it also a form of political manipulation? Some historians speculate that Mhlakaza may have used Nongqawuse’s visions to push his agenda, exploiting the vulnerability of his people in the hopes of consolidating power or favour with local leaders. His sudden shift from Christian doctrine to promoting a prophecy that involved the slaughter of cattle, a sacred act in the Xhosa tradition, is puzzling.
Furthermore, Mhlakaza’s close association with the British authorities in the Cape Colony casts doubt on his motives. Could he have been acting as an agent of British influence, consciously or unconsciously sowing discord within the Xhosa nation at a time when unity was crucial?
The cattle-killing tale
The destruction of cattle also fit neatly into the British colonial agenda. Much like the U.S. government’s deliberate destruction of Bison herds to weaken Native American communities, the collapse of the Xhosa economy through the eradication of cattle played into colonial interests. The British viewed the Xhosa’s relationship with cattle as backward and sought to impose European agricultural practices, thus forcing the Xhosa into economic dependence on the colonial system.
In this light, the prophecy, whether spiritual or political, was an effective tool of colonial domination. It destabilised the Xhosa’s economic base, making it easier for the British to take control of their land and resources.
There are claims that there are more than five similar prophecies that predated Nongqawuse’s, all of which ultimately failed. Figures like Nxele (Makhanda), the twin prophets from Mpondoland, and Ntinde from Thembuland also delivered visions that called for the slaughter of cattle and promised the resurrection of ancestors or restoration of power. These prophecies, much like Nongqawuse’s, ended in disappointment and devastation. Despite this, historians often paint AmaXhosa as simplistic and ritualistic, driven by prophecy rather than logic. This raises the question: why would Xhosa people continue to believe such stories, especially after repeated failures, even if they were driven to desperation? It doesn’t seem to make sense. However, to reduce these beliefs to mere superstition ignores the complex socio-political context. Xhosa people were grappling with immense external pressures – land dispossession, famine, and the spread of colonial power. Prophecies like Nongqawuse’s offered hope, however misguided, in the face of overwhelming forces threatening their survival. The repeated belief in these prophecies wasn’t about a lack of logic but a deep desire to reclaim lost autonomy and resist colonial encroachment in any way possible.
Dr Jongi Klaas, the first historian in 93 years to write a historiography of the Eastern Cape and the Xhosa Kingdom from an endogenous African perspective, offers a compelling argument: he claims that Nongqawuse was not simply a tragic figure who misled her people, but rather a colonial construct. According to Klaas, the narrative surrounding Nongqawuse has been shaped, manipulated, and exaggerated by colonial authorities and later historians to fit a particular agenda. In this interpretation, Nongqawuse’s prophecy, and the catastrophic consequences that followed, were used to justify the colonial depiction of the Xhosa as irrational, superstitious, and in need of Western intervention. Her story has been framed as the ultimate example of the ‘backwardness’ of African societies, reinforcing colonial notions of racial and cultural superiority. Klaas argues that the narrative served a dual purpose: it undermined the Xhosa people’s resistance by portraying them as easily manipulated by prophecy, while also shifting focus away from the brutal realities of colonial expansion, land dispossession, and resource theft that were devastating the region. By labelling Nongqawuse as a “colonial construct”, Klaas suggests that the way her story has been told – particularly in Western and colonial accounts – was carefully crafted to align with European goals of dominance and control. In his work, he calls for a re-examination of her role, not as a singular, naive girl responsible for the collapse of her people, but as part of a much larger, more complex web of colonial exploitation and resistance. This endogenous perspective shifts the blame from Nongqawuse, viewing her as a pawn in a larger game of colonial power rather than the sole instigator of the tragedy. It also challenges the reductionist historical narratives that have persisted for nearly two centuries, urging scholars to reconsider how the Xhosa Kingdom’s history has been written and whose interests it has served.
At the core of this story, lies a desperate people, caught between the old and the new, grappling with spiritual and material crises. Nongqawuse’s prophecy, while born from a place of hope, ultimately led to the disintegration of Xhosa society. However, it is essential to ask: How fair is it to place the blame for such devastation on a teenage girl, and why was it so easy to do so? And how much of this tragedy was influenced, if not orchestrated, by those around her?
Nongqawuse, what did they do to you?
