BOLLEN NGETTI — THE MAKONDE WHO RUNS AWAY FROM INITIATION?

Adeladius Makwega — MBAGALA

Every society has its customs, traditions and beliefs. These are not merely words written in books; they are practices that communities have nurtured, defended and passed from one generation to another.

When a person proudly identifies himself with a particular community, that identity normally comes with certain responsibilities.

And when he begins to reject the very traditions that define that identity, sooner or later his own people are bound to ask:

“Are you really one of us?”

Take the Makonde, for example. Can you proudly call yourself a young Makonde man and then turn around and say you want nothing to do with traditional initiation?

That is when your fellow Makonde may begin looking at you sideways and asking:

“Does this young man want to be Makonde by name only?”

The same teasing could be directed at a young Kurya man who attends a traditional circumcision ceremony and then spends the entire occasion crying publicly.

His fellow men might well ask:

“Did we take him to circumcision, or did we take him to a crying competition?”

The point is not that tears are a crime. Far from it. The point is that different communities have different expectations surrounding culture, manhood, dignity and tradition.

The same principle applies to religion.

A Muslim is expected to respect the principles of Islam. A Christian is expected to respect the teachings of Christianity. A Seventh-day Adventist is likewise expected to observe the principles of his faith.

In simple terms:

Identity comes with responsibility.

Now, my dear reader, you may be wondering:

“What is Mwanakwetu going on about today?”

The answer is simple.

Mwanakwetu is thinking about our brother, Bollen Ngetti.

Some people are comparing Bollen Ngetti to a person who wants to claim the identity of a community while conveniently selecting only the traditions that suit him and quietly abandoning the rest.

It is like a Makonde young man saying:

“Initiation is for my fellow Makonde. I will simply watch from a safe distance.”

His relatives would probably respond:

“Come on, brother! Don't turn our tradition into a spectator sport.”

And that is where the teasing begins.

Brother Bollen Ngetti, even if you were once an orphan, the passage of time does not erase one's roots. You have Makonde blood, a Makonde name, Makonde ancestry and a background that connects you to the community.

So, from the perspective of those who regard you as one of their own, they may understandably ask why a son of their community would choose to become a stranger to the traditions of that same community.

And the cheeky question comes:

“Our fellow Makonde wants to keep his foreskin, yet tomorrow he will come asking to marry our Makonde daughters?”

There is the joke.

There is the sting.

And there is the question behind the joke:

“My son, do you really know your tradition, or did you only hear about it from the neighbours?”

The same argument can be made about a young Kurya man.

If his community has a traditional circumcision ceremony and, on that very day, he turns the occasion into a public display of tears, his fellow men might sarcastically ask:

“Did we take him to circumcision, or did we accidentally take him to a funeral?”

Again, the issue is not whether a man is allowed to cry. Of course he is. The issue is the cultural expectation attached to a particular ceremony.

And that is precisely where culture becomes complicated.

If a person identifies himself as a Seventh-day Adventist but deliberately lives contrary to the principles of his faith, fellow believers may ask:

“Did you leave your faith at church, or did you decide to bring only half of it home?”

That question may sound humorous, but it carries a serious message.

You cannot demand the identity of a community when it benefits you, then suddenly declare yourself completely independent whenever that same identity demands responsibility.

The same applies to religious identity.

A Muslim has religious principles concerning food, conduct and worship. If someone openly acts against those principles, fellow Muslims may remind him:

“Brother, Islam cannot be a name you carry on your lips while your actions tell a different story.”

And that brings us back to Bollen Ngetti.

Brother Bollen Ngetti, even if you once lived as an orphan, that chapter of your life did not last forever. Years have passed. Along the way, there have been people who stood beside you, supported you and helped you move forward.

Among them, we are told, is Bishop Emmanuel Bandakile Mwamakula.

Therefore, those raising questions about your conduct are not necessarily saying that you have no right to your own opinions. Rather, their argument is that a person who has benefited from the support, care and opportunities provided by others should also remember the responsibilities that come with belonging to a community.

A reminder about one's traditions is not automatically hatred.

Criticism is not automatically hostility.

And being told that you have moved away from the principles of your community is not necessarily a declaration of war.

Sometimes it is simply your own people saying:

“My son, the road you are taking is not the road on which we raised you.”

So, Brother Bollen Ngetti, if there is indeed something in your conduct that conflicts with your traditions, culture or faith, perhaps this is the moment to pause and reflect.

Do not wait until those who once supported you are forced to speak in much harsher language.