The sound of her incessant moans and shrill screams seemed to puncture the vacuous dark of night and agonizingly grated through the resolve of the gathered women. She was, however, to be given no assistance in the birthing process. The women were there only to observe while the young woman birthed the 'beetle'. Crawling upon her knees, a hand clutched around her belly, she began to pant as vivid tears mingled with copious streams of perspiration. The pains were close now, almost one on top of the other. A sudden violent contraction caused her eyes to roll white and the scream strangled in her throat and became as guttural as that of a wild animal in its death throws.

In a dream she saw him high upon a hilltop, his arms thrust high in victory. A shield clasped in one hand and an assegai in the other. She heard the voices raised in unison, crying, "Nkosi Bayete! Bayete Nkosi!" We salute our king.

The women watched stoically, immobile and on the surface unmoved by her agony and obvious fear. Only the faint twitching of Sibongile's hands and the strong pulse in her neck betrayed her emotions. She and Nandi were the same age and had been childhood playmates. It was hard to relate the pretty giggling girl of then to the screaming pain-crazed woman before her. Sibongile clasped her hands together and allowed her eyes to glaze over to block out the disturbing images. The abomination would soon be born and they would kill it. The customary way to do this was to take the infant by the feet and smash its head against a rock. This baby had been conceived out of wedlock - the illegitimate child of Senzangakona, a Zulu prince. He would not recognise his child because it had been conceived with a woman from what was considered to be a lesser tribe.

The beautiful young maiden of the clan of Zulu bathed in a river and sang with childish abandon, completely oblivious to the intense eyes that watched from the riverbank. Her creamy coffee-coloured skin gleamed as droplets of water separated in rivulets down her body. A lighter coloured skin was admired among an ebony dark people. Nandi was a rare beauty and the 18-year-old Senzangakona swallowed as he stared lasciviously upon her youthful 14-year-old form.

Nandi clutched and clawed at Sibongile's legs, her huge dark eyes imploring and desperate but her friend remained rigid and unmoving. The 'beetle' was tearing her young body apart.
"Ngiyafa!" …I am dying! "Ncedani bo!" …Help me!

An elder placed her hands roughly under Nandi's armpits and dragged her away from Sibongile. She could see the girl was weakening but there would be no help. If she died in childbirth it would not be a bad thing. She was an embarrassment to the clan of Zulu.

She gathered her isidwaba to her bruised body and rose stiffly to her feet – blood stained her tender thighs. He had been brutal but nobody had paid any attention to her screams for help. Her head held high, she walked the remaining distance from the river back to the kraal. Others averted their heads. Her virginity taken, she would not be permitted to participate in the upcoming Umkhosi woMhlanga.*

There was a hush of silence at the moment of birth. Even the young mother in the grip of bearing down had become silent. The 'beetle', looking suspiciously like any other baby, slid from his mother's body in a sluice of blood and water. The Sangoma lifted the child by its feet while an elder cut the cord and finally ministered to the exhausted mother. The child remained silent and as frozen as an effigy.

"Shaka is dead! The ancestors have spoken. So be it"

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I feel no need to defend the way I told this story. I left Alvin's comment up because I think it is important to be open to criticism, no matter how scathing. I appreciate that as a Zulu, this must have wounded his pride, however, this was not my intention and I am not obsessed with rape.  Anyone reading my work with a little bit of insight will know this.

As to whether Nandi was raped or not. I cannot say. What I read seems to indicate that she was but that this event was shrouded in as much mystery as Shaka's actual birth. I know this is controversial but I didn't post the story to make everyone happy but to tell a tale and I wrote it as I identified with it. I hope I don't offend anyone when I say this but rape is so common in this country among certain cultures, it is not even viewed as being wrong. It may be seen as a man's inalienable right. I know of many young girls (even babies as young as 6 months old) who have been raped because of cultural superstition and ignorance. A myth has been perpetuated by certain witchdoctors that sex with a virgin cures AIDS. The facts are there for anyone who may care to do the research. I do not think under the circumstances that any African can stand up with any degree of pride and make such broad sweeping statements to the contrary in light of the facts.

Still I am filled with hope for this land and I believe in the better nature of man. With a bit of education (and sometimes in the telling of a few shocking stories), change may come about. I hope I live to see it.

By the way I love the Zulu culture (all brutality apart) and have enjoyed the research I've done about Zulu History. All nations have their shame. It would be foolish to deny it.