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While most young people in Harare are hunting for WiFi spots to connect their gadgets, WiFi does not connect deeper and personally like totems and kinship

Ignatius Mabasa Shelling the Nuts
ONE hot summer day, a professor was driving leisurely along one of Harare’s busy streets. In front of him, the traffic light suddenly changed to amber, and the huge professor gently brought his old Mercedes Benz to a stop. He was lightly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and looking at the stampede of people who were crossing the street in front of his car. Just as he thought that the traffic light was about to change, a head with hair resembling a mop was suddenly thrust into his car from outside. Quickly, the young man with the mop-head grabbed a laptop that was on the front passenger seat. His upper body emerged from the professor’s car and he quickly tucked the laptop in his jacket. Like a ghost, he disappeared into the crowd of pedestrians.

Ignoring the hooters from other motorists who were shouting at him to drive his car because the traffic light had changed to green, the professor opened his car door and started chasing the thief. Despite his greying hair, pedestrians were surprised by how athletic and determined the professor was to catch the thief. The thief tried to use the thicket of people as camouflage. He twisted and turned, but in no time, the determined professor’s big hand was grabbing him by the collar of his jacket. The thief tried to punch the professor, but the professor who was built like a tractor held the fist in his even bigger hand and squeezed it hard such that the thief let out a piercing howl. By now, a lot of people had noticed that there was something wrong. Two young police officers on patrol got to the scene. The professor retrieved his laptop. He was now holding the laptop in one hand, and the thief in another.

The police officers wanted to handcuff the thief, but the professor told them he had him under control. The professor started walking back to his car and interrogating the thief.

“Young man, why do you do such a shameless thing?” He thundered.

The thief, who was in pain from the vice-like grip winced and said, “I am sorry baba, I wronged you.”

“I know you wronged me, but why did you do what you did?” The professor asked.

“I can’t find a job and I must pay rent and feed my family. So I thought that if I stole your laptop, I could sell it and get a little bit of money.”

The professor showed that he was paying attention to the thief’s words. He then said, “Why didn’t you politely ask for some money? Do you know I spent the last 15 years researching the information contained in this laptop?”

The thief did not say a word.

The two police officers tried to interject and talk to the professor, but he would not let them cut his conversation. Instead he said, “I apprehended this young man, and I need to talk to him. I don’t have time to go to the police post to report this case when I have already recovered my laptop.”

The police officers tried to explain that if the thief was not punished, he would steal from yet another person.

Ignoring the police officers, the professor turned to the thief and said, “Where do you come from, I mean kumusha?”

Surprised by the question, the thief mumbled, “I come from Kudyarawanza in Seke.”

Upon which the professor said, “I see. And what is your totem?”

The thief looked in disbelief at the professor before saying in a low voice, “My totem is Mhofu.”

“You mean you are Mhofu? Seke Mukonde! Ivo Seke Mutema, Vhuramai?”

The thief nodded.

There was a glimmer in the professor’s eyes. He stopped walking. By now he had almost reached his car. The police officers who were following together with a crowd of vendors and shoppers also stopped.

The professor looked at the thief and said sternly, “Nhai Vhuramai, ko zvamuri sekuru vangu chaivo? You are my mother’s brother. You are my uncle Mhofu! Now, look at what you have done sekuru to us. You have shamed us in the centre of Harare. Sekuru, this has to end. You can’t try to live by grabbing things from people’s cars. One of these days you will get killed. Do you hear me sekuru?”

The thief nodded.

Then, turning to the police officers, the professor said, “Let him go. He is my mother’s brother. He has learnt his lesson.”

Some in the crowd clapped hands and cheered.

The redeemed young man walked away, with some in the crowd telling him to go back home and learn more from the traditional knowledge system.

There are some very important aspects of the Shona culture, especially kinship. While most Shona people in the city will tell you that life is now defined by the make of car you drive, the suburb you live in, your job title, the brand of mobile phone you use among other things, traditional thought and philosophy has other considerations. The thief was very young and could have been the age of the professor’s son, but because of the kinship connection — the professor respected the thief as his uncle and even took the licence that nephews have with their uncles to point out unbecoming behaviour and demand that it is corrected.

One thing that the professor did very well was to use the culture and traditional knowledge of totems and kinship to knock some sense in the culprit.

This was done by first allowing the culprit to feel loved and part of a big family. Whereas the police officers were keen on dragging the young man to their station for punishment, the traditional knowledge system through the professor was keen to understand the reason and story behind the thievery. The traditional knowledge systems believe in correcting and giving a person a chance to reform instead of punishing.

This story illustrates how some of our modern day problems can be solved through traditional knowledge systems.

While most young people in Harare are hunting for WiFi spots to connect their gadgets, WiFi does not connect deeper and personally like totems and kinship. Perhaps we should look for new ways of understanding from traditional knowledge.

The professor taught the thief is that if you are a Shona with a totem, you are part of a big family. The professor demonstrated the values of hunhu/ubuntu in action. There are so many aspects of hunhu/Ubuntu but at the end of the day, all those aspects are after moulding a person so that he knows how to live well and harmoniously with others.

Hunhu/Ubuntu is very difficult to explain in English because it essentially is an African philosophy. Hunhu is that thing which makes a person be regarded as a “real” or “complete” person who has self-control and who knows that he exists because others exist. This is deep Shona philosophy, which reminds an individual that none of us is as good as all of us. The reasoning behind hunhu/Ubuntu is that no matter where you go or situation you find yourself in — you should know that your thoughts, speech and actions have an effect on other people.

We may not all be able to know what WiFi is or how to use it, but there are shared sets of meanings like totems that serve as a collective guide to our behaviour. Because people from the same culture learn essentially the same set of values, rules, norms, and expected behaviours, their lives are made somewhat less complicated because they know, within broad limits, what to expect from one another. As a people, we are constrained, or at least influenced by our cultures — the sets of material objects, ideas, and behaviour patterns that we internalize from birth.

The professor’s treatment of the young thief is not something he learnt from studying and researching. His behaviour shows that our cultures exert a powerful influence on our conduct, often without our even being aware of it. Deviance from the cultural norms is found in all societies, but at the end of the day it is how we handle or deal with such behaviour.

The professor represents the older generation and in a way, he reconstructs and offers the younger generation a glimpse into the Shona culture as it was before urbanisation.