Ndansi Kumalo, His Story (1890s)

In the closing decades of the nineteenth century, European nations competed for direct control of larger and larger regions of the world. Competition in Africa was especially fierce, often with tragic results for Africans and their ways of life. The document below, an excerpt from an interview with Ndansi Kumalo, reveals this process unfolding during the 1890s. African by birth, in the 1930s Ndansi Kumalo was invited to participate in the making of a film on the life of British imperialist Cecil Rhodes (1853–1902). While completing the film in England, he recounted his life story to the English Africanist Margery Perham. At the time of the events Ndansi Kumalo described to her, Rhodes had claimed a huge tract of interior Africa, dubbed “Rhodesia” in his honor, for the English crown. Ndansi Kumalo and his people, Ndebele pastoralists living in southeastern Africa, were swept up in Rhodes’s and other European immigrants’ scramble for power and resources. Ndansi Kumalo had been raised a warrior to guard Ndebele land; thus he and other Ndebele fought back against the European incursion. War broke out in 1893 and again in 1897, both times ending in the Ndebele’s defeat. The British repaid the Ndebele for their resistance by relegating them to a reservation.

From Margery Perham, ed., Ten Africans (Chicago: Northwestern University Press, 1971), 69–75.

We were terribly upset and very angry at the coming of the white men, for Lobengula¹ had sent to the Queen in England and he was under her [the Queen of England’s] protection and it was quite unjustified that white men should come with force into our country.² . . . Lobengula had no war in his heart: he had always protected the white men and been good to them. If he had meant war, would he have sent our regiments far away to the north at this moment? As far as I know the trouble began in this way. Gandani, a chief who was sent out, reported that some of the Mashona³ had taken the king’s cattle; some regiments were detailed to follow and recover them. They followed the Mashona to Ziminto’s people [Victoria district]. Gandani had strict instructions not to molest the white people established in certain parts and to confine himself to the people who had taken the cattle. The commander was given a letter which he had to produce to the Europeans and tell them what the object of the party was. But the members of the party were restless and went without reporting to the white people and killed a lot of Mashonas. The pioneers were very angry and said, “You have trespassed into our part.” [This was in 1893.] They went with the letter, but only after they had killed some people, and the white men said, “You have done wrong, you should have brought the letter first and then we should have given you permission to follow the cattle.” The commander received orders from the white people to get out, and up to a certain point which he could not possibly reach in the time allowed. A force followed them up and they defended themselves. When the pioneers turned out there was a fight at Shangani and at Bembezi.

. . . The next news was that the white people had entered Bulawayo; the King’s kraal⁴ had been burnt down and the King had fled. Of the cattle very few were recovered; most fell into the hands of the white people. Only a very small portion were found and brought to Shangani where the King was, and we went there to give him any assistance we could. I did not catch up with the King; he had gone on ahead. Three of our leaders mounted their horses and followed up the King and he wanted to know where his cattle were; they said they had fallen into the hands of the whites, only a few were left. He said, “Go back and bring them along.” But they did not go back again; the white forces had occupied Bulawayo and they went into the Matoppos. Then the white people came to where we were living and sent word round that all chiefs and warriors should go into Bulawayo and discuss peace, for the King had gone and they wanted to make peace. The first order we got was, “When you come in, come in with cattle so that we can see that you are sincere about it.” The white people said, “Now that your King has deserted you, we occupy your country. Do you submit to us?” What could we do? “If you are sincere, come back and bring in all your arms, guns and spears.” We did so. . . .

So we surrendered to the white people and were told to go back to our homes and live our usual lives and attend to our crops. But the white men sent native police who did abominable things; they were cruel and assaulted a lot of our people and helped themselves to our cattle and goats. These policemen were not our own people; anybody was made a policeman. We were treated like slaves. They came and were overbearing and we were ordered to carry their clothes and bundles. They interfered with our wives and our daughters and molested them. In fact, the treatment we received was intolerable. We thought it best to fight and die rather than bear it. How the rebellion started I do not know; there was no organization, it was like a fire that suddenly flames up. We had been flogged by native police and then they rubbed salt water in the wounds. There was much bitterness because so many of our cattle were branded and taken away from us; we had no property, nothing we could call our own. We said, “It is no good living under such conditions; death would be better—let us fight.” Our King gone, we had submitted to the white people and they ill-treated us until we became desperate and tried to make an end of it all. We knew that we had very little chance because their weapons were so much superior to ours. But we meant to fight to the last, feeling that even if we could not beat them we might at least kill a few of them and so have some sort of revenge.

I fought in the rebellion. We used to look out for valleys where the white men were likely to approach. We took cover behind rocks and trees and tried to ambush them. We were forced by the nature of our weapons not to expose ourselves. I had a gun, a breech-loader. They—the white men—fought us with big guns and Maxims⁵ and rifles.

I remember a fight in the Matoppos when we charged the white men. There were some hundreds of us; the white men also were many. We charged them at close quarters: we thought we had a good chance to kill them but the Maxims were too much for us. . . .

We were still fighting when we heard that Mr. Rhodes was coming and wanted to make peace with us. It was best to come to terms he said, and not go shedding blood like this on both sides. The older people went to meet him. Mr. Rhodes came and they had a discussion and our leaders came back and discussed amongst themselves and the people. Then Mr. Rhodes came again and we agreed at last to terms of peace.

So peace was made. Many of our people had been killed, and now we began to die of starvation; and then came the rinderpest⁶ and the cattle that were still left to us perished. We could not help thinking that all these dreadful things were brought by the white people. We struggled, and the Government helped us with grain; and by degrees we managed to get crops and pulled through. Our cattle were practically wiped out, but a few were left and from them we slowly bred up our herds again. We were offered work in the mines and farms to earn money and so were able to buy back some cattle. At first, of course, we were not used to going out to work, but advice was given that the chief should advise the young people to go out to work, and gradually they went. At first we received a good price for our cattle and sheep and goats. Then the tax came. It was 10s. a year. Soon the Government said, “That is too little, you must contribute more; you must pay £1.” We did so. Then those who took more than one wife were taxed; 10s. for each additional wife. The tax is heavy, but that is not all. We are also taxed for our dogs; 5s. for a dog. Then we were told we were living on private land; the owners wanted rent in addition to the Government tax; some 10s. some £1, some £2 a year. After that we were told we had to dip our cattle and pay 1s. per head per annum.

Would I like to have the old days back? Well, the white men have brought some good things. For a start, they brought us European implements—ploughs; we can buy European clothes, which are an advance. The Government have arranged for education and through that, when our children grow up, they may rise in status. We want them to be educated and civilized and make better citizens. Even in our own time there were troubles, there was much fighting and many innocent people were killed. It is infinitely better to have peace instead of war, and our treatment generally by the officials is better than it was at first. But, under the white people, we still have our troubles. Economic conditions are telling on us very severely. We are on land where the rainfall is scanty, and things will not grow well. In our own time we could pick our own country, but now all the best land has been taken by the white people. We get hardly any price for our cattle; we find it hard to meet our money obligations. If we have crops to spare we get very little for them; we find it difficult to make ends meet and wages are very low. When I view the position, I see that our rainfall has diminished, we have suffered drought and have poor crops and we do not see any hope of improvement, but all the same our taxes do not diminish. We see no prosperous days ahead of us.

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS