Latest news with #Modjadji
The Citizen
03-07-2025
- Climate
- The Citizen
Limpopo villagers plead with rain queen to end drought
The Modjadji royal family members perform rainmaking rituals every October to plead with their ancestors for rain. Girls dance during the annual traditional ceremony at Rain Queen Modjadji's palace to summon the rains. Picture: Gallo Images / City Press / Muntu Vilakazi Villagers in the Tzaneen area of Limpopo have turned to the newly crowned Rain Queen Masalanabo Modjadji VII for rain to quench their thirst. This is after several boreholes recently drilled by the Mopani district municipality failed to produce a single drop of water for years because of the persistent drought that has plagued the region. Annual rainmaking rituals The Modjadjis, known for their supernatural rainmaking powers, have, for years, been making it rain in Limpopo during droughts. Every October, five closely related families to the Modjadji royal family assemble at the Rain Queen's Palace in Khethakone, where they perform rainmaking rituals. The family uses a magical horn from Zimbabwe to speak to their ancestors in a sacred place called Thokoleng. According to former royal family and council chair, the late Mohale Malatji, the family uses a magical horn while pouring traditional brewed beer called Mphapho onto the scared place. Downpours They plead with their ancestors for rain to fall in the region. ALSO READ: Limpopo's Rain Queen suspends initiation schools in 2025 To ensure that the ancestors have heard their pleas, the clouds suddenly gather, followed by a huge downpour that often fills dams and rivers. Then, the families would be given Mphapho beer and dance around the scared place for hours while the rain continues to pour. Boreholes and water tankers During a recent imbizo held by the Mopani district in Makhwibidung, outside Tzaneen, villagers told mayor Pule Shayi to plead with the Modjadjis to bring rain to Limpopo. Shayi said water would be supplied to the residents via boreholes and water tankers. 'Here, in Greater Tzaneen municipality, we have 663 boreholes. Of this number, we have 287 which are operational,' said Shayi. He said to address the situation they have set aside R45 million to energise all the boreholes in the district. But the worried mayor added: 'We have a challenge of vandalism as 42 of our boreholes have been vandalised and six of our transformers stolen.' NOW READ: Limpopo drought: Rain queen's family pleads for access to water
IOL News
24-06-2025
- Politics
- IOL News
Reclaiming the true meaning of South Africa's public holidays
Nco Dube a political economist, businessman, and social commentator. Image: Supplied South Africa's public holidays are more than just days off work or school; they are markers of our nation's complex and often painful history. Since 1994, many holidays have been renamed as part of the country's reconciliation process, with the intent to foster unity and inclusivity. However, this well-meaning approach has, in some cases, diluted the original significance of these days, a significance deeply rooted in the struggles, identities, and histories of specific communities. It is time to critically reconsider whether some of these holidays should revert to their original names and meanings, not to sow division but to honour the full truth of our past. Beyond Heritage Day: A Broader Reflection on Renamed Holidays Heritage Day's transformation from Shaka Day into a celebration of diverse cultures is a prime example. While embracing South Africa's cultural plurality is important, restoring Heritage Day's focus on traditional leadership and heroic figures such as Shaka, Sekhukhune, Modjadji, and other warrior kings from various tribes would reaffirm the historical pride and resistance of black South Africans. These leaders symbolise resilience and identity that were systematically undermined during colonialism and apartheid. But the argument extends far beyond Heritage Day alone. Consider the renaming of Sharpeville Day to Human Rights Day, or Soweto Day to Youth Day. The original names directly referenced specific, pivotal events in the anti-apartheid struggle, events that shaped the national consciousness and the fight for freedom. By broadening these commemorations, the sharp, focused remembrance of those sacrifices risks being lost. Similarly, the Day of Reconciliation, formerly Dingane's Day or Day of the Vow, seeks to balance conflicting histories but sometimes glosses over the brutal realities of colonial conquest and apartheid oppression. The Unequal Burden of Reconciliation A critical, often overlooked dimension of this debate is the emotional and historical burden placed on black South Africans. Many feel that in the name of reconciliation, they were expected to make disproportionate concessions, offering forgiveness and embracing a narrative of unity, while those who once oppressed them have largely been spared from confronting the full weight of their actions. The renaming and reframing of holidays can serve as a form of historical cushioning for former oppressors, allowing them to avoid facing uncomfortable truths about their role in systemic subjugation. This dynamic creates an imbalance: black communities, who endured generations of oppression, are called upon to move forward and unify, yet the former oppressors are often shielded from the discomfort of genuine reckoning. The broad, sanitised names of holidays sometimes enable a collective forgetting or minimising of apartheid's harsh realities, undermining the very justice and acknowledgement that true reconciliation requires. Honouring History Through Honest Commemoration Restoring original holiday names and meanings is not about nostalgia or exclusion; it is about truth-telling and respect. It is about ensuring that the sacrifices of those who fought against oppression are remembered with the specificity and gravity they deserve. It is about acknowledging the distinct histories of South Africa's diverse peoples without erasing or diluting them in the name of unity. For example, reclaiming the Dingane's Day (Day of the Vow) original context alongside its current role as Day of Reconciliation would allow South Africans to engage honestly with the complex history of the Voortrekkers and Zulu peoples, recognising both conflict and the ongoing journey toward unity. Similarly, reviving Sharpeville Day as a stark reminder of police brutality and resistance would deepen the meaning of Human Rights Day.
Daily Maverick
04-05-2025
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
The legend of Modjadji — sacrifice, prophecy and ethical dilemmas
Somewhere between the Limpopo and Zambezi rivers, where the Tropic of Capricorn slices through the natural splendours of the ancient civilisation of Mapungubwe, survives the Balobedu. This small clan, often mistaken for being Pedi or Venda because of local linguistic varieties and geography, once faced an existential crisis. A relentless drought had parched their lands, withered crops, drained rivers, killed livestock and threatened their survival. As desperation set in, whispers of dissent grew louder. The King, tasked with safeguarding his people, found himself trapped between ancestral traditions and the brutal realities of leadership. His sons, impatient with his inability to end the drought, gathered in secret to strategise – a meeting misconstrued as treason. In a fit of rage and fear, he executed all but his youngest son, a newborn smuggled to safety by loyalists. Yet the skies remained barren and the clan's suffering deepened. As hope dwindled, the King sought guidance from his sangoma, a spiritual intermediary. The sangoma delivered a harrowing decree: to save his people, the King must sire a daughter with his favourite child, Princess Dzugundini. This girl child, they proclaimed, would become the first Rain Queen, a divine conduit to the heavens whose birth would herald life-giving rains. The directive plunged the King into moral torment. Making a baby with his favourite daughter would save his people, the message had promised. Yet the taboo of incest and the betrayal of a beloved child paralysed him. Torn between a moral dilemma and survival, he devised a compromise. He approached another daughter, born to a lesser-loved wife, negotiating a transactional arrangement. In exchange for her compliance, he pledged land, cattle and autonomy to her maternal lineage, a strategic move to preserve his conscience (well, this too was his daughter!) while honouring the ancestors' demand. Their union, however, defied prophecy: a son was born and the drought raged on. The sangoma warned of ancestral wrath; the King had faltered by sidestepping the directive to mate with the chosen one, she who he favourited the most. Forced to atone, he eventually had a 'passionate' encounter with the favoured daughter. Adhering strictly to the 'calling' bore fruits. A girl, Modjadji, was born. Rain soaked the Capricorn, reviving the land and securing the clan's future. Thus began the reign of the Rain Queens – a matrilineal dynasty enduring for decades (only now threatened by succession squabbles). The legend of Modjadji brings to the table profound ethical tensions. The King's choices: executing his sons, manipulating familial bonds and engaging in incest exposes the corrosive compromises leaders face in times of crises. His initial refusal to violate his favourite daughter reflects a flicker of humanity, yet his subsequent bargaining with another child reduces her to a transactional vessel, raising questions about agency and exploitation. It did not work. The sangoma's role further complicates the moral dilemma. By framing the ancestors' will as non-negotiable, the spiritual adviser legitimises acts that transgress societal norms, complicating the King's life. This underscores the risks of conflating divine mandate with human interpretation, a theme resonant in modern debates over authority and ethics. Of course, right now I may be sounding very judgemental, right? To stretch it further, the prophecy's gender specificity may represent patriarchal underpinnings. Only a female heir could summon rain, yet her power derives from male orchestration. While Modjadji's lineage elevates women as rulers, its origin is rooted in their subjugation, illustrating the paradox of 'empowerment' through violation. In any reading and re-reading, context matters. Balobedu's survival came at a cost: the erosion of trust, the commodification of kinship and the moral compromise of a leader who prioritised pragmatism over principle. The Rain Queens' legacy, though celebrated, is a testament to the fraught interplay between cultural preservation and ethical dilemmas whose interpretation can be jaundiced by colonial encounters and Judeo-Christian readings of history and culture. Broadly speaking, this is a reminder that salvation often demands a price not easily reconciled with contrived Euro-American lenses of what constitutes normative social arrangements. Stretching it, again? The tale of Modjadji endures not merely as folklore but as a mirror to humanity's perennial struggle: how far can we go to survive and who bears the scars of our choices? If we go by the script at face value, an ethical line was crossed when the father fathered a child with his daughter. But importantly, a nation was saved through that act; rain fell, and life persisted. Was that not a greater moral obligation – to save the Balobedu? Was it not through the foretold and premeditated murder of Jesus that Christianity was made? While dramatised, with street-level scriptwriting (beyond the opening episodes, the series was poorly chronicled), the Queen Modjadi TV series, currently streaming, opens a window to the ethical questions that the story raises, which deserve more space in our public discourse. DM
The South African
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The South African
New sci-fi series reimagines Queen Modjadji in 2062
Queen Masalanabo Modjadji VII during her official installation ceremony. Image: Central News A Modjadji sci-fi series is in the works; this time, Queen Modjadji's legacy is set in 2062. ADVERTISEMENT Young director Lwazi Duma and writer Zigi Yeni are bringing this vision to life. The new show imagines a futuristic South Africa facing severe drought. In the centre of it all is Tebello Modjadji, a reluctant heir who must unlock her family's rainmaking secrets to save the land. The Modjadji sci-fi series, budgeted at R80 million, aims to blend traditional mythology with political intrigue and climate themes. Entertainment commentator Phil Mphela broke the story on Twitter (X). Modjadji sci-fi series builds on Mzansi Magic 2024 hit show Previously, Queen Modjadji's story graced television screens through Mzansi Magic's Queen Modjadji series, which premiered in 2024. It impressed audiences with rich visuals and a powerful historical narrative. Although fans eagerly await updates, the channel has yet to confirm a second season. Nevertheless, this new project could reignite widespread interest. Meet the Balobedu people The Balobedu (or BaLobedu) people of Limpopo follow a rare matrilineal monarchy. This means women, not men, lead the royal line. Queen Modjadji holds a sacred role as the Rain Queen, known for her power to summon rain through rituals passed down for generations. Some fun facts about the Balobedu include: ADVERTISEMENT Matrilineal rule : Unlike most traditional kingdoms, the Rain Queen's successor is always her daughter or female relative, never male. : Unlike most traditional kingdoms, the Rain Queen's successor is always her daughter or female relative, never male. Rain rituals : The queen is revered for her ability to summon rain through traditional ceremonies held in secret. : The queen is revered for her ability to summon rain through traditional ceremonies held in secret. Royal kraal : The capital village of Khetlhakone remains a sacred space for Balobedu customs and governance. : The capital village of Khetlhakone remains a sacred space for Balobedu customs and governance. Cultural diplomacy: Historical records show that past Rain Queens were respected by kings such as Shaka Zulu and Moshoeshoe I. There has been renewed interest in recognising the Balobedu monarchy formally within South Africa's traditional leadership framework in recent years. The Modjadji sci-fi series reflects a bold step in merging South African tradition with future-forward imagination. From ancient myth to Afro-futurism: What's your take? The Modjadji sci-fi series is not just entertainment. It's a bold mix of culture, imagination, and storytelling that celebrates a powerful African legacy in a futuristic setting. What are your thoughts on this direction for Queen Modjadji's story? Leave a comment or send a message on WhatsApp at 060 011 0211. Subscribe to The South African newsletters and follow us on WhatsApp, Facebook, X, and Bluesky for more updates.
