Lessons that the young teach the older
I was at Church and listening to the pastor. He talked about how being alive on earth is similar to mahumbwe – which can be loosely translated to playing house. The pastor preached that the game mahumbwe was in all settings. The toys may differ but the concept is the same. For cars some are driving bricks in dusty areas while others move their luxury toy cars on tiles or carpets. Girls on the other hand play with battered tins or designer toy labels.
By Fadzai Maposah Correspondent (ZNFPC Mash East)
Article published in The Herald newspaper
The pastor said there shall come a time when we will have to go to the real house. He said when the children are called by their parents they abandon the game and go to the real house. After the sermon I went down memory lane, reflecting on the instances that I have seen mahumbwe being played by children with lots of energy. Occasionally there are fights regarding boundaries. To really see the concept of mahumbwe well played out one has to take a walk in the high density suburbs, commercial farming areas or the rural areas.
In the low density areas, the playhouse game is more confined to indoors and in some instances is more private than public. Growing up when we were kumusha, (rural home) my grandmother (Gogo) had a designated mahumbwe point. She did not want chaos all over the yard. After playing mahumbwe, everyone was supposed to tidy up and pack things properly so that they would resume play the following day. After the game, the first port of call would be taking a proper bath. Those who were young would have the older ones bathing them. As I share this, I can picture that corner of Gogo`s homestead which was the play area.
To get started one would get an old mutsvairo (hand broom) and begin sweeping the home area. In some instances, the naughty siblings or relatives would get the actual hand broom that was in use in the real house. That was always enough to get the adults` scolding or in some cases even spanking. The more creative siblings or relatives would make a hand broom using various shrubs and from one end of the homestead, one could see the clouds of dust as ‘homes’ were swept. The one playing, “mother” would then start assigning roles and tasks. The mother in most instances seemed to have less work to do as she spent most of the time assigning tasks. Recently I witnessed that the mother roles have not changed much despite the fact that it is now the technology era.
While in our time, the mother would be seated and knitting or ‘cutting’ vegetables for the family meal, nowadays she will still be seated, but would be on her phone talking to her friends or texting while she shouts orders to the children or in some instances the ‘helper’. Back in the time when I was a young girl or even in my adolescent years, there were no house helpers, kumahumbwe. If they were there, I never came across that scenario. It could be the settings in which I played or witnessed mahumbwe. But then I digress…
Being kumusha was and is still a wonderful experience for me. I enjoy being kumusha more so now that I am older and there are many young people who I can assign tasks while I visit relatives or simply relax under the mutohwe tree (Snort Apple). It feels so good to have been elevated to the dare-remusha (family council). This is a group of adults who usually sit and discuss issues affecting the family and map the way forward or simply reminiscent about the ‘good old days’.
What I have discovered, as human beings we are very uncomfortable with change so we always say they were the good old days. Back then we wished for something different and when it came, we long for the ‘old’. It is difficult to understand human beings. In the ‘good’ old days, there was a place that was demarcated under the tree where the female adults would sit on reed mats while the males sat on little wooden stools or old metal water tins. Many a time when Gogo was away we would sit on the stools and wait for the beard to grow as we had been told would happen if we sat on those seats. My female relatives and I who are still alive occasionally look closely in the mirror and wonder if the beard has grown…
Because there were always lively discussions under the tree, few were eager to leave the ‘station’ to do other chores. Rather they wanted the chores to ‘come’ to the tree. As a result some chores were half-done under the tree or they were completely done under the tree. One day though, Gogo banned one chore from being done outside following an incident. Female relatives would take big metal dishes (before the plastic revolution) assign others to bring soap, towels and in most instances clothes for the one who was taking a bath in the dish.
Sometimes, two children took a bath together and they would be made to undress in the full view of the whole homestead; invasion of privacy. On this particular day, a very young female relative was being undressed when a piece of cotton wool fell from her underwear! There were shock gasps that could be heard even from the plate rack (chisukiro) where we were. There were whispered questions and the little one loudly responded that she had copied the ‘bigger’ girls. She was about to shout out names when there was a chorus of Aiwa (No)! Gogo came and got wind of the matter. She made a ruling. No public bathing. Second ruling, those on the `it` experience were to protect the young and innocent by never putting on `it ` experience equipment in a room where the young ones were. Gogo`s rulings remain relevant today.
https://www.herald.co.zw/lessons-that-the-young-teach-the-older/