Feels Like I Never Left
A meditation on returning home after five years abroad.
In Ubuhle Bendalo, a song about reconnecting with nature and finding peace away from the chaos of modern life, BET award winning artist, Sjava, begins with this meditation: Impilo yasemadolobheni inok’vala inqondo(City life has a way of closing the mind). Here, he acknowledges how exhausting city life can be—the hustle and bustle of places like Johannesburg, all prone to disconnecting one from their true self. This feeling, I confess, for the past five years or so, I’ve felt immensely. Having gracefully departed my home, Zimbabwe, for the glorious American cheese and fast food, life never felt like it could stop, pause, take a break, and begin, again, anew and energized.
Though hard to admit, the alternative life—being at home, lacking much opportunity for bettering one’s self, city-induced stress is, unfortunately, a thing. I found, too, that being an immigrant in a foreign land like the U.S coupled the former diagnosis with its own stress. Many cite loneliness once abroad. Others, just failing to acclimatize. For fear of this sounding like complaining, we acknowledge these unfortunate life happenings, but, rather, dwell on Sjava’s initial city life diagnosis, which, for immigrants or otherwise, is universal.
The remedy, Sjava suggests, is returning home. Home, for our artist in question, is Bergville, a small town in KwaZulu-Natal(KZN), remote and far from the city, characterized by mountains, water streams and the typical village identities. I write this from home, after meeting with grandma, my cousins, the cows and goats, driving in the village dusty roads, catching a ride in the beat up Honda Fit that roars and coughs with every gear change, eating authentic sadza and beef stew, and, above all, communing in IsiNdebele, my mother tongue. While it has been long since I left, everything feels familiar, slow, calming, peaceful, and just right.
Ngiyajabula ukuba sekhaya ngibuke ubuhle bendalo (I am happy to be at home and look at the beauty of nature), continues Sjava, proclaiming the beauty of being home again. KZN is synonymous with many villages in Zimbabwe, mine included. Thus, in Sjava’s words, I find resonance. Looking forward to my homecoming, I wondered what it’d feel like. The feeling of familiarity, like I were home just yesterday, like I never left—that was somewhat ironic. I don’t know what I expected, but what I got was unexpected still. In all this, Sjava’s Ubuhle Bendalo spoke to the heart of my emotions. Being home, as Sjava says:
Kuleth’ ukuthula kuthoba inhliziyo(It brings peace and soothes the heart)
Ngikhohlwa ukuhlupheka(I forget suffering)
Nenkinga zomhlaba(And the problems of the world)
The lyrics, as they go on, become a prayer of gratitude. He marvels at the world as a finished masterpiece, noting the simplicity of life in youth, back at home, when, as young boys, they played like calves, the parents still alive. “Impilo ayikholula emazweni lasizama khona—life is not easy in the countries where we’re trying”, he says. “Uthando nenjabulo kulapho esazalwa khona—Love and happiness are where we we born.”
To all this, by Sjava, we’re exhorted to go home, “siyokhothwa idlozi s’phinde sibuye sozama”. To go home, and get spiritually rejuvenated, then, we come back and try again. Of course, for many, home is city life, it’s all they’ve known—the flats of Johannesburg and high-rise apartments of Manhattan. The metaphor, throughout the song, I believe, is that: because, life moves really fast, it is of paramount importance that we take time for ourselves, to breathe, pause, reflect, rest, take in life, accepting and being grateful for what is, hoping and striving for more, and thus, coming back, with more energy and zeal to try again, and again, and again.
It’s been less than a week since I’ve returned, but the feeling is more than surreal. I pray that we can all feel and experience the peace that Sjava speaks of. That tranquil exuded by nature. That momentary forgetting of all our sufferings, and the problems of the world. All this, because, we’re human, and we need, dearly, a massive break.
As always, thank you for reading this free publication.
Aluta Continua, beautifully so.