Nanda in a black Xhosa beaded ceremonial skirt on a mosaic mandala, wide sky

Three nations · Nine generations · One voice

Roots

In Buganda you are never only yourself. To introduce yourself, you must name your father, his father, your clan, its totem, its motto, identity spoken aloud as genealogy. This is that introduction, made in full.

House I · Buganda, Uganda

Ennyonyi ya Nseenene

The clan of the grasshopper

The Nseenene take the grasshopper as their totem, not only a sign but a season. Twice a year, when the rains come, the swarms rise over Buganda and are gathered: a delicacy, a harvest, a small green promise of abundance. To this clan you do not eat your own totem. You honour it.

The clan remembers its beginning as a migration. Kiroboozi, a herdsman on the slopes of Mugamba Hill, had three children who drove their cattle down through Bwera into Ggomba: Buyonga, Kalibbala, and their sister, Nnandawula. A woman remembered by name in a line that counts itself through fathers. Her name did not end. It was carried, and carried, and given again, until it arrived here, spelled the way I spell it.

Through Buyonga's daughter Wannyana, mother of Kabaka Kimera, the third king of Buganda, the clan is woven into the founding of a throne, which is why our praise still calls on Nakimera, of Kimera. And the name I carry, Kagwa, is the name of Sir Apolo Kagwa, Katikkiro of Buganda for thirty-six years, regent to a child-king, and the first man to write our history down so it could not be lost. The colossus of Buganda.

Omubala · the clan motto

“Ggwe mpagi, ggwe luwaga;
Nakimera muka Ssuuna.”

“You are the pillar, you are the support-beam.” The ones who hold the house up.

Totem
Nseenene · the grasshopper
Clan head
Mugalula
Seats
Kisozi · Lweza, Busujju

And in our own telling: I come from the line of Kabombola, who reigns from Kyakasuku; from Segoma in Kayenje. Names the internet does not keep, only the family does.

In African print by a reflecting pond, windswept palms
Honey braids and silver beads in golden light
A regal beaded gown beneath a gold orb

House II · amaXhosa, South Africa

AmaTshawe

The founding royal house

Every Xhosa king traces back to one ancestor: Tshawe. And the way he came to the throne is the part I love. He was not the eldest, not the Great House heir: he was the junior son. When their father died, his brothers Cirha and Jwarha held the senior claims. Tshawe took warriors, met them in the field, and won the kingship, then held it for his line forever. The oldest royal house in South Africa begins with a younger child who refused to be minor.

This house keeps its memory two ways. The isiduko, the clan name, passes from father to child and matters more than any surname; to know a person's isiduko is to know their ancestors and be able to praise them. And the imbongi, the praise-poet, walks beside the chief and recites the deeds of the house out loud. History, kept as performed poetry.

I was born into a nation that appoints a poet to remember the family, and then I became one.

Seated in Xhosa beadwork on a mosaic plaza, holding the book
Mid-dance in beadwork at the arts festival
A warm duo in regalia at the festival

House III · amaHlubi, South Africa

KwaMsimanga

The scattered kingdom

The Msimanga are amaHlubi, an Nguni people old enough to count kings back to the 1300s, down to Langalibalele. Then, around 1818, the Mfecane, the great scattering. The Hlubi kingdom was shattered; its people fled north, west, into other nations, into refuge. That is why a Msimanga can be found today in South Africa, Botswana, Lesotho, Zimbabwe. The spread of the clan across four countries is a fingerprint of that flight, and my own life across nations is the same story, still moving.

Its praises are real, and they are poetry: the one who descends in a grain-basket while commoners come down on foot, an image of rank folded into a single line, spoken to greet and to honour.

Izithakazelo · the clan praises

Thabizolo, Nonkosi, Mlotshwa,
wena owehla ngesilulu
abafokazane behla ngezinyawo,
Pembe kaLokothwayo,
Ngelengele!

Praise-names carried, not translated, the way they are meant to be spoken. isiHlubi, the language they belong to, is endangered now; to say them at all is to keep them alive.

Between two elders in Xhosa dress, winter light and laughter
Wrapped in a Basotho blanket and grass hat, mountain beyond
Brewing umqombothi in a red-and-black Xhosa beaded collar
Brewing umqombothi together, hands in the grain
A blanket coat gazing over the highland pass
An embrace with an elder in blue Sotho beadwork

And so, the introduction

I am of the grasshopper and the throne of Buganda; of the royal house of Tshawe; of the scattered kingdom of the Hlubi. Three nations gave me their names and their poetry. I am the one they appointed to remember, and I remember in verse.

Nseenene · AmaTshawe · Msimanga · Nine generations documented

Clan histories drawn from the Buganda Kingdom, South African History Online, the Ulwazi Programme, and family record. Verified histories and praise-poetry; the family's own line and names are held as family memory.