We South Africans can belong to any religion we like, or to none. This is normal in a democracy and our Constitution protects ‘freedom of religion’. And we sure are a religious nation! A 2013 survey by Statistics SA found us 84% Christian, 5% African Traditional Religion (ATR), 2% Muslim, 1% Hindu, 5% as ‘nothing in particular’, and only 0.2% as atheist or agnostic. Small numbers of us belong to other religions.*
But many of the huge Christian majority believe in elements of ATR too, such as spiritual connection to ancestors. There are also many sects of Christianity. Some are so Africanised that they are not much like the Christianity taught by the first European missionaries.
The main religions all support the ‘Golden Rule’ of tolerance. It says, ‘Treat other people as you would like to be treated yourself’. Faith shows how wrong things can go when people believe so fanatically in one chosen religion that they become intolerant.
The main character is lovely Mr Msomi, who “… exudes a good-natured calmness, despite being 92 years old and suffering from diabetes, arthritis and chronic heart failure.” As the story begins we sense that he knows his very long, successful life is at a natural end. But his children can’t accept it, and shamelessly use his dying days to further their religious battle. The divide is clear from the start:
“Western medicine heals only up to a point!” Mondli juts in …. “This is what has made you sick, Baba! This medicine!” he shouts, pointing at the drip hanging over his father. “We have to go see Mbambo right now!”
“Don’t start with your witchcraft nonsense!” screams Zinhle. … “Baba is like this because he doesn’t believe in Jesus! God punishes as much as he gives!”
However, Mr Msomi agrees to leave the hospital. This is despite his loving grandchild, Scelo, worrying he might die sooner. As the story unfolds we realise that Mr Msomi just wants to be at his home, with his family, for his last days. He is prepared to go through what each of the children wants: a session with a traditional healer and a casting out of so-called ‘demons’ by Zinhle’s pastor.
Mondli says that all the ills of society are due to us losing traditional religion. He completely believes his traditional doctor, Mbambo. He declares that a sacrifice to one particular ancestor is needed and then, “Yes, your father will be healed.” The story shows that Mbambo’s ‘healing’ does not happen. How could it, in a man so old, with so many serious ailments?
But Mondli gives us evidence that Zinhle is as deluded as he is on this matter. In a way, she can be held responsible for their mother’s premature death: “Zinhle and her pastor told Ma to stop taking her diabetes medication because she had been saved by the blood of Jesus! That very same pastor who calls our ancestors demons!”
Modern medicine is not perfect, but is proved to save lives and keep people with diabetes, HIV, and many other serious illnesses, alive for a long time. Why reject it due to religious belief? After all, the medicine was not made for, and does not belong to, any religion!
But the main theme of the story is about how Mondli and Zinhle’s intolerant religious faith has broken one of the most important things in life: family bonds. Here he is, at the end of his life, and Mr Msomi is sad:
“I have so much money but I can’t bring my son and daughter together. … I can’t even have all of my grandchildren in one room at the same time…”. We can see how this same problem can divide communities, and even nations.
Mr Msomi decides, “… that resolving the conflict between his children will be the last target of his limited time on earth.”
Meanwhile, through the character Scelo, we are shown just how important family can be: he literally owes his life to his grandfather and his own little girl. He was drug addicted and his grandfather never gave up on him, plus he had his daughter to live for.
Compare the kind, ‘religion of compassion’ of Mr Msomi, with the hardened fanaticism of his children. “I want you to promise me that what I did for you, never giving up on you, you will also do for other people. I see compassion in you. Never lose it,” he says to Scelo.
Scelo’s words in response, about his father and aunt, are a key message of the story:
“I wish they understood that what a person believes is not what everyone else should believe in. People are different and that needs to be respected.”
Using modern medicine, Mbambo’s bark medicine, and Christian prayers to support him, to help him gather the last of his strength, Mr Msomi insists his whole family gather at the family farm. There he lectures his son and daughter: “What are you teaching your children? You are teaching them to hate people with different beliefs to theirs! You need to stop it right now!”
Mr Msomi loves being on his farm and having all his family around, but sadly, he does not live long enough to see his two children reconcile. However, his death finally jolts them out of their feud. Zinhle and Mondli apologise, reconcile and grieve together for their beloved father.
To end, lets quickly look at two interesting ‘sub themes’ in the story.
First, Zinhle’s Pastor Daniel is an example of a puzzling religious ‘fashion’ that has swept across South Africa: following Nigerian (and other) pastors and their flashy ‘religion of rich’. Pastor Timothy Omotoso is a current example in the news: he set up many churches and so influenced some followers that they allegedly brought him over 30 young women to sexually abuse. And do you remember the 80 South Africans who died in Pastor TB Joshua’s collapsed church dormitory in Lagos in 2014?
Our government is so worried about fake Pastors abusing desperate and poor people, making them eat grass and snakes, and breathe in Doom and such nonsense, that it ordered a Commission of enquiry in 2017. This condemned “… the abuse of people in churches and the commercialisation of religion,” according to Chairperson Thoko Mkhwanazi-Xaluva.*
Second, at the very end of the story we learn that Mr Msomi has obviously written in his will that he must be cremated, and his ashes scattered. Cremation is an ancient practice, and for example, is the way all Hindu bodies are disposed of. This is not common in South Africa though. However, as city cemeteries fill up, we are running out of urban space for graves! City officials are trying to persuade more people to opt for cremation.* Will the religions be able to adapt to this, in these times of rapid, ever-increasing urbanization?
* This paper has all the figures: Schoeman, WJ., 2017. South African Religious demography: The 2013 General Household Survey. It is open source and can be downloaded.
