Transformation 2 (1986)                                   *e"/ew Article
    A BLACK MAMBA RISING: an Introduction
    to M l 8 ' D u m o H l a t t h w a y o ' s p o e t r y
   Ari Sitas
     Ml S'duno Hlatshwayo's oral poems are gathered together (alongside
   Qabula's and Malange's) In Black Hamba Rising: South African Horker Poets
   in Struggle. Having noted Qabula's contributions elsewhere (Sitas. 1984).
   I thought that some parallel comnent on Hiatshwayo would assist future
   word-spinners and. restrain some of our academic suburbla's reckless Inter-
   pretations. His poetry announces very Important sentiments and symbols,
   perhaps some of the most Important words and Images, to have echoed around
   this abyss of a "Thousand hills and valleys'. By locating his work within
   the projects of the class he sweats for. the resistance culture that stands
   to claim him and. by tracing the significance of his compositions, some
   more light could be thrown on a complex cultural transformation In Natal.
   I
      Hlatshwayo's poem, 'The black mamba rises', appeared In FOSATU Horker
   Hews (FUN) In November 1984 (FUN 33/34). The poem, celebrating the Ounlop
   workers' struggle and victory caused a sensation beyond union circles: who
   was this worker and where did he learn his craft? How was It that a young
   man from the urban slums was able to use a language which was the envy of
   countryside izinbongfl In no time, his poem, alongside Qabula's 'Iz1mbong°
   zika Fosatu'. (FUN 31, 1984) was seen to make an Important revival of the
   nguni iubongi tradition In the service of the black workers' struggle
   (Sole. 1985; Cronin, 1985; Gunner, 1985).      This poem and more that were
   to follow, are a revival and transformation of the tradition and, oveFand
   above their political substance, offer an Interesting Tormai mutatiori~~of
   imbongi poetry. Although people with a better sense of~the acoustic ^and
   linguistic prowess of the Nguni ver-naculars, might offer more substantial
   arguments than my own rather truncated version. What can be conraunicated
   here 1s the sense of wonder and excitement, of 'amabongo' that his work
   generated In the activities of the Workers' Cultural Local In Durban.
   II
      •I'll fetch him*. Qabula said, 'he works at Ounlop Sports'. He did-
   Hiatshwayo arrived carrying a jumble of notes In which another two pod"5
   Mere discovered. They were roughly translated Into English: 'You will lo**
   at them?'. 'He will 1 , added Qabula. Little did we know then, that a
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Transformation 2                                                    Sitas
creative machine was installing Itself In the workers' cultural groups,
ready to change everything around It. It started grinding that night: in
the course of conversation he announced that he had had a play brewing
inside him for at least a week - It would, he calculated, take another week
to write It down. Good, we said, wanting to change the topic, knowing that
in the Local's worker-gatherings, boasts outnumbered the deeds. A week
later, there was half a play there, in another, the whole one: 'USUKU' or
'THE DAY'.      On Its first presentation I noticed a woman worker from a
textile mill, trying to control a few tears trickling down her face.
    Bhodwe, the manager, (whose real name is Baldwin, - 'but ... we
call him Bhodwe, the pot for cooking tendons and ligaments because he is
never satisfied ... however much we try to do his work right'), approaches
in the play, his long-service worker Shabalala. We have just witnessed the
emotional Zionist funeral of Shabalala's child. She died because the
family could not raise enough money for a complex operation - even from
Shabalala's fellow workers and comrades In struggle. Bhodwe, who was ready
to make an outlay of money only if Shabalala revealed to him the timing and
plans for 'the day' - 'usuku' (thus facilitating the death as well),
approaches him to make amends.
    Shabalala 1s curt: '...my people, we workers of Africa, our nation, has
always been friendly to yours, that's why you are here and not In Europe.
That Is why you vote and I don't. That is why you detain, exile and kill
 leaders - but I don't. That's why I cannot sell my labour where I want to.
That's why your children are swamping college corridors while my only one
 Is sharing with the ants ..." Shabalala continues in this vein, pile-
driving his invective, his accumulated anger, hoarded for over 25 years of
obedience.
    Was Hlatshwayo through Shabalala, in tracing all these 'gestures of
 friendship' coding and addressing for us the 'national question' and 'wor-
 king class politics' in South Africa? In this play we are kept in sus-
 pense: poetic reveries. Invoking ancestral Africa are juxtaposed with
 social realist dialogue and settings. Finally, a dramatic climax: when
 Bhodwe demands for the last time to be given Information on the 'day'.
 Hlatshwayo sets us square in the shadow of revolution with an intensity
 unparallelled to workers' theatre: 'No, no ..." he replies, 'the day •••
 that day ... the day ... belongs to workers ...'
    Then there was another play: the bitter satire. Gallows for Hr Iscariot
 lap imp i. Then, there were many more poems, speeches at mass gatherings,
 cultural work for mass rallies, more strikes, boycotts and camunity work,
 the creation of a Trade Union and Cultural Centre at Clairwood, support for
 the Sarmcol strikers, the making of their play In a year In which Durban's
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Transformation 2                                                          "
townships were aflame. Fanned on by the conviction In the Importance of a
cultural contribution to the worker's struggle, but also In the necessity
to create new Institutions In the process of fighting. Hlatshwayo has
become a pivotal dynamizer 1n the cultural struggles of the region.
Ill
    M1 S'dumo Hlatshwayo was born In 1951. He grew^p as an •Illegitimate'
child In a working-class household In Cato Nanor. The family's poverty
severed his education 1n Standard 7. an event which has traumatised him
since. It thrust him at the age of 15 Into the machinery of the labour
market. As he mentioned 1n FOSATU Horker Hots, his dreams were sunk: "... I
wanted to be a poet, control words, many words, that I may woo our multi-
cultural South Africa into a single society. I wanted to be a historian,
of a good deal of history; that I may harness our past group hostilities
 into a single South African ... history... After 34 years of hunger,
suffering, struggles, learning to hope. I am only a driver for a rubber
company ...' (fMV 35, 1985).
    He cried when he was forced to leave school. But slowly, alongside the
tears came stubbomess - he became determined to continue his self
education: he read whatever came his way - from Biology Primers to Zulu
History books. But, he was already gleaning the cornerstone of his poetic
education through a serious ailment which was 'eating him alive': after the
medical profession threw Its arms in the air, he was taken to eCibini (or
St John's Apostolic church) which was famous for its healing rituals. He
was healed. There, In this independent African church of the poor (on
 these, see Paw. 1975; Kiernan. 1977; Rounds. 1979). he experienced for the
 first time In his life a community of concern and care. He found a church
without status distinctions where ordinary people shared and prayed
 together. After his healing, after experiencing this ccaraunitarian atmos-
 phere he stayed with them distancing himself from his Anglican church
 roots.
     It was there, in the context of the church's fiery and emotional gathe-
 rings, where ordinary people hurled their problems, anxieties and supersti-
 tions to all, seeking for help, that he got his baptism in words of fire:
 the lay-preachers, men and women Imbued with a prophetic and messianic
 vision had Integrated the inbongi tradition of poetry in their religious
 sermons. In the improvisatory and spontaneous nature of much of their
 Preaching, Hlatshwayo was being schooled In a poetic experience denied to
 •any in the cities. He was discovering there, the power of language and
 P°etry . where Christ sometimes a furious black buffalo cut through the
 shrub and gorges to proclaim his victory on earth.                         ,
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Transformation 2                                                     Sltas
   The sense of conrainitarianism he experienced at eClbini, he carried over
Into all facets of life: It carried him over to participate in many efforts
to organise the Clermont coomintty. But, In all this he felt Intimidated:
there, he found hierarchies operating, education mattered, status was
revered - he had none of these, he felt like a 'nobody without qualifica-
tion'; but he participated - remaining on the sidelines, putting in his
share, listening to speeches and hoping for better days tomorrow. But the
1970s rolled on, he was married, there were children to feed and the daily
grind continued at Ounlop Sports. When MAWU started organising In his
factory, he joined the union - feeling that it was the right thing to do.
But. 1f anything, it was the Dunlop strike (Sltas. 1985) that triggered him
to cultural action.
IV
    Qabula's praise-poem and Hlatshwayo's 'Black Mamba Rises' are closely
related. Hlatshwayo sat down at St Antony's Hall. In the steamy atmosphere
of the Dunlop strike, mesmerised by Qabula's poem. Many workers felt the
same, as the poem stirred-up an age-old symbolism of resistance: '... the
moving black forest of Africa'. During these disciplined and uncertain
days before their victory, it took root in the workers' everyday language.
The men would wake up each day and tell their wives that they were off to
the 'forest' again to continue their struggle: "they used to wake up every
morning and whenever they bade me farewell, they would say, "Bye-bye, see
you later In the afternoon, we're just going to the forest." ... Well for
 five weeks my husband and son kept going to their 'forest' everyday.      It
was very tough for the family..I can tell you ...' (FUN 33/34. 1984:10).
     'Worker1. Qabula incanted. 'about what is that cry. Maye?/You are crying
 but who Is hassling you?/Escape into that forest/the black forest that the
 employers saw/and ran for safety/The workers saw it too/"it belongs to us"
 they said/"Let us take refuge In 1t/to be safe from our hunters ..."    Deep
 Into the forest they hid themselves/And when they came out/they were free
 from fear ...' (f*W 31. 1984). For Qabula. the forest was a symbol from
 his own trials and tribulations during the Pondoland rebellion, which hjj
 harnessed to the Image of the swaying heads and fists of mass meetings.
 On his tongue it was lathed Into a metaphor of struggle, a metonymy for
 FOSATU and an image of unity. For most workers gathered there, his symbo-
 lism became as large as their known history: it spoke of the Nkandla and
 the Inpendle forests which were sacred shrines but also had the status of
 being places of ambush, retreat and resistance - it spoke of Shaka's time,
 of Cetshwayo's resistance, of Bambatha's revolt. It was given as a praise-
 name to AWG Champion at the height of ICU organisation in Durban.
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Transformation 2                                                    Sitas
    Hlatshwayo found his form and confidence - the tongue loosened, the
Jumble of paper accumulated, the hand moved, and words poured out in re-
sponse: the machine started working - moved by the poem, moved by the
determination and unity of Dunlop workers and moved by their victory he
composed 'Black Hamba Rises'. The depth of Imagery and metaphor made It an
event of significance In worker circles. There: the form he had heard from
the lay-preachers of the poor people's churches done by an ordinary worker
like himself - Qabula; there: the brotherly context without hierarchies and
chiefs - the shop steward led strike. The poem was a combination of the
prophetic vision of a coming world - the spiritual far-sightedness of his
church poets and his new experience of political hope. The Inbongi form In
the process got uprooted from Its conservative, hierarchical, and tradi-
tional breaks (see Ong. 1982; Erlmann, 1985) and left to roll forward - a
moving forest of symbols.      As Qabula continued wandering from one mass-
meeting to another with his 'Praise Poem' and songs, like 'Migrant's
Lament', Hlatshwayo composed his new poems: 'workers are a Worried Lot' and
 'Africa - A Worker's Lamentation' - both found a new audience on Hay Day at
Curries Fountain. It was Qabula's turn to listen and think of Africa on
his 'hyster' at work. It led him back to the countryside, to think about
the physical beauty of the world he knew before his entry Into the labour
market as a migrant. His love for the countryside. Its landscapes and
seasons started becoming a poem - a lyrical epic which distorts Itself into
a nightmare of noise and oppression within capitalist Industrialisation.
    Their co-operation culminated In a remarkable joint effort: the oral
poem 'Tears of a Creator - the worker1 for COSATU's launch in Durban. But,
enough of Introductory comment, of tracing the springboards of creativity.
- It Is time to enter the forest, to examine Its workings.
V
    His plays explain how capitalism works and how it fills ordinary lives
with paradoxes and contradictions; how, finally, the incessant war of
classes haunts, animates and breaks individuals and groups - how also It
makes some stronger (this shall be discussed elsewhere In the context of
worker plays in Durban). The poems do something different: they attempt to
ascribe values to the struggle of workers: aesthetic and metaphor1c values.
Hlatswayo Is trying to create a new community of visual and Interlocking
images rooted in popular symbolism. He sees therefore his function as an
 iobongi to be a chronicler - one who fixes a new lineage of shadows, of
praises and meanings on the poetic register; as one who adorns, with his
craft, the common experiences of his class and his people. He Is
consciously transforming tradition propelled by a future he longs for as
                                54


Transformation 2                                                    S1tas
opposed to the Uimbongi of KwaZulu who are attempting to preserve social
hierarchy by linking It to the past. But both are using all the power of
speech and rhetoric that the Zulu vernacular allows. Before addressing the
formal innovations Hiatshwayo Initiated, his 'politics of metaphor1, 1t 1s
crucial to look at the politics It addresses.
    The future Is marked by 'usuku'/'the day1 (his D Day), the day of
judgement, of freedom - It Is Informed by the knowledge that 'no stone
shall stand on top/of the other till eternity ...' The day Is a vision,
similar to the messianic promise of the lay-preachers. From the pinnacle
of the vision Hiatshwayo sends out messengers and orders them to tell the
people: 'Tell them, the borrowed must be given back/Tell them - the chained
must be chained no more/ Tell them - these are the dictates of the black
mamba/the mamba that knows no colour ...' And he turns to his comrades at
Dunlop to reasure them that, 'on your side/are your brothers/even at the
New Jerusalem/Let it be workers!/ they say/the heaven above also approves
God, in a society that 'knows no colour', without exploitation ('the
borrowed1), or oppression ('the chained') makes Hiatshwayo yearn for
 'usuku' 'on that day:/mountains of lies shall be torn to shreds/the gates
of apartheid shall burst asunder/the history books of deception shall be
thrown out' (from 'Tears of a creator').
    This society will be one of peace: "... What a march/of people's con-
gresses/to cornel/together we would put power in maize fields/not mis-
siles/together we would/give respect to God/and not to dollars ...'       And
then. In the midst of this peace and prosperity there shall be new discove-
ries, there shall be true love and pride: '... We can discover the pride of
Africa/covered by the sand dunes/of history/covered by the sand dunes of
colonialism ..." to "... deliver the world/from Its hunger/poverty/of
minerals,/of morals/ and of love ... (from 'We workers are a worried lot').
    Like many other black creators he yearns for a past culture not profaned
by colonial capitalism. He finds that the sand dunes of colonialism have
burled with them a continent of great moral value. They have buried a
 'land of many mysteries/enigmas /and many treasures' and a moral order,
 'when we were a comunity of concern/one In grief/ one in joy/Hayel
Maye/how we long for you ..." A continent, whose vastness '.../Is not
 known to us/ these days ...' This distance from a past - 'whose people
gifted the history of the world' - creates the yearning and propels his
 plea: 'Mama Africa/return/mayebuye Africa/resurface ...' In this poem
 there are great similarities between Hiatshwayo's conception and Africanist
 poetry - differences occur only in two sub-themes: that liberation does
 not mean a 'return of the past', and that the agency for liberation are
 the tollers and sufferers of no colour distinction: '... even the "better
                                55


 Transformation 2                                                   Sftas
off/of our own kind /now form alliances with our exploiters ..."       Thus,
 the real South Africa of the future can only resurface: 'from the midpacks
of our Imijondolos/from: the miners' sweat In the bowels of the earth/from:
our crowded dawn-trains/frcn: the yawning queues of the unemployed/at the
 labour offices ..." ("Africa - a worker's lamentation').
    Yet, and despite the glowing but vague account of a moral and superior
past of Africa animating his verse, his sense of history Is precise: In
contrast with the above his awareness and meticulousness about lineage,
chiefships, wars and historical settings for the dramas of what became the
Zulu nation, Is impressive. His drafts for a historical play on the cru-
cial role of women In changing the course of pre- and post-colonial history
he was Initiating with women workers at Dunlop Sports; his critiques of
official Zulu descent histories; his references to historical events In his
poems - through analogy and stallies (see below), all of these, show a
mastery of local history: "... a lot of it a history of feuds, division and
power-mongering ... We must learn not to have a false superiority about
our "Zuluness" ...' There is then, a tension In his work between an Africa
of the 'past;, a 'golden age' and the history of the Zulu people - a
tension, which is a product of modern times, partly, but mostly, a product
of his political project: an attempt to deny the popular mythologies that
are bandied around as a foundation for a Zulu Independent nation-state - a
bantustan. This forces him into a broader version of a Nguni lineage,
within broader and broader lineages that begin to look like all sub-Saharan
constellations of linquistic units, to finally embrace the whole of Africa.
Yet, at the same time, his cultural roots, the power of his symbolism
(again, see below) catapults him back into the wealth of a local tradition.
This tension, creative as It is, consumes him daily.
    If his struggle with the past haunts him and his yearning for it ani-
mates him, there are fewer doubts about the nature of the present, and less
about the bearers of change - those who build the bridges from today until
tomorrow: 'Awul Ham' Africa ...' he exclaims, 'Since your abduction/ wor-
kers have known no rest ...' To Qabula's - 'When I arrived/the children
were all crying/they were the workers/ Industrial workers/In the factories
of Africa' - he replies that 'Dried are our tears/accustomed/to grief/
assailing from all sides ...' And asks his fellow workers whether '... In
this society of cities/are we the cursed class?' The present, this society
of cities and Impoverished countrysides is a violation: 'even water/gift
from the skies/has been made scarce/to be paid for dearly/in Rands and
dollars/In an Africa/of meandering rivers ...'; an Africa where people are
now 'jailed for trespassing ..." It is a society of great paradoxes ruled
by racists, oppressors and exploiters: 'Kodwa Hawul to you, our frieds are
                                56


Transformation 2                                                     Sitas
foes/our foes are friends ..." ('We workers are a worried lot'). A society
where the cursed class from the Imijondolos, the mines, the unemployment
queues was 'stabbed* Into submission and put to sleep.
     But, this class has been stirred Into action: "... the employers have
done what ought not to be/why tease the mamba 1n Its century old sleep?'
('Black Mamba Rises'). Once this mamba. shakes off Its slumber, 'nothing
can distract us/from dismantling exploitation', ('A salute to Samson Cele')
now it Is on the prowl and venomous. Hlatshwayo sees himself on the crest
of this movement - h e Is Its 'regimental imbongi1 urging It on: 'Helele/
makers of all things ...' To the rest of the world he Is Its announcer:
 '... Here 1s the workers' freedom trainI ... Its madeup of old wagons/
repaired and patched up ox-carts/rolling on the road again/back again/
revived/Once capsized by Champion/the wagon - once derailed by Kadaliel
Here It rolls ahead/to settle accounts with the oppressor ...' Or to the
new super federation: 'COSATU/stand up now 1n dignity/march forward/We are
raising our clenched fists behind you/behind us/we call Into line/our
ancestors In struggie/Maduna and Thomas Mbeki/Ray Alexander and Gana
Hakhabeni/JB Marks, Phungula and hundreds more ...' ('Tears of a creator').
Thousands amass into the procession of all 'freedom loving people* for a
democratic South Africa without exploitation.
VI
     As mentioned above, Hlatshwayo offers an Interesting formal mutation, a
 transformation of Iwbongi poetry over and above the political substance of
his lines. The 'politics of metaphor' in his poems Involve three tightly-
 knit conponents that are separable only for analytical purposes: firstly,
 his lines are 'shotthrough' with what he calls 'paradoxes' - rapid, jerky
contrasts and negations which Infuse his delivery with tension. Secondly,
 he uses the traditional technique of imbongi poetry - the subject at hand
 Is adorned with metaphor, simile and metonymy In an additive and aggrega-
 tive way: all these become qualities of his/her person or deeds. Many
meanings and symbols are clustered and concentrated on one subject: he
 could be a lion but also a blanket, a mole but also an egret and so on.
 Thirdly, 1t Involves words which 1n the Zulu vernacular have many literal
 and metaphoric meanings which allow him to construct a multi-level imagery
 around them. To borrow from semiotics, these become complex polysemic
 units of a unique kind (Delia Volpe, 1978:122-47).
     His 'paradoxes' are everywhere in the poems:: eg In the touching epitaph
 to his co-worker Mdunge ('Tribute to Mdunge 1 ): *1n the frantic moments of
 our strikes/you found him calm/... Our Ho Chi Hinh/with plastic buckets and
 brooms/... cleaning the toilets'. Or, in 'Black mamba rising": 'the
                                 57


  Transformation 2                                                  Sitas
 victors of wars/but then retreat/the builders of nests/yet like an ant-
 eater you then desert/heavy are your blows ...'; or. 'busy boiling foreig-
 ners' pots/yet yours are lying cold ...'. 'the black mania that shelters In
 the songs/yet others shelter 1n the trees ...', 'devouring them whilst
 singing/yet the songs are just a decoy ...', 'you black bufallo/black yet
 with tasty neat ..'. 'the black bufallo that turns the foreigners'
 language/ Into confusion/today you are called a Bantu/to-morrow you are
 called a Communist' ('Black mamba rises').
     Furthermore, the question 1s not that Hlatshwayo uses negation alone
 ('paradoxes', call It what you will), but tthat he contrasts and negates.
 Here let us examine 'Black mamba rises' to see how he weaves together the
  imbongi's additive method of composition to his paradoxes: the poem's
 subject Is the black working-class (as embodied In the Dunlop strike of his
 co-workers). The class Is an affianced woman but also a black mamba that
 knows no colour, it is an ant-eater but also an top/, it Is a black bufallo
 but also a flock of locusts. It is 'Ngudungudu, the woman/who married
without any/lobolo/busy boiling foreigners' pots/yet yours are lying cold
metaphoric description of trade union tactics of struggle (quoted above).
 'The victors of wars/but then retreat/the builders of nests/but then like
an ant-eater/you then desert/heavy are your blows/they leave the emplo-
yers/unnerved ...' Or his choice of a usually shy but the most venomous of
reptiles (with of course added symbolic and mystical connections from Zulu
folklore); 'The Black mamba that/shelters in the songs/Yet others shelter -
 in the trees ...'; the snake which was 'stabbed good and proper during the
day/at Sydney Road (the site of the Dunlop factory - AS) right on the
premises/to the delight of the police/... Yet it is beginning to tower
with rage/... on rising/it was multiheaded' (meaning that the strike arose
 in Sydney Road. Mobeni, Pine Street. Benoni and Ladysmith). It was also
 'the black bufallo/black yet with tasty meat ... the bufallo that pushed
men Into the forest ...' Or, 'here are the workers/coming like a flood of
locusts/ here is the struggle/... Sikhumba and Mgonothi are mesme-
rized/asking what species of old mamba is th1s?/Dy1ng and resurrecting like
a dangabane flower?' ('Black mamba rises').
    Through such 'paradoxes', Hlatshwayo achieves something peculiar: he
creates a 'turbulence', a 'restlessness, and through rapid contrasts he
undermines the traditional iubongi form. If one compares this with the
structures of composition in itsbongi poetry (cf the poetry of Jama,
Dingane, Shaka, etc), what is destroyed Is the calm authority of a whole-
some world - a world where 'meanings' were unambiguous; a world whose
cosmology was adorned with metaphors comprising of sturdy subjects. The
'praises' of Jama, Dingane, Shaka. Cetshwayo and others always generate a
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 Transformation 2                                                   Sltas
series of positive metaphors and attributes. They are bulls, sparrows,
elephants, moles, etc, and by being all that our understanding (sometimes
critical) of who they were 1s enhanced.            What happens though In
Hlatshwayo's verse Is a fracturing of the univocality of meaning and the
calm certainty about the world It denoted. Rather, the world appears as a
topsy turvy conglomeration of contradictions and, therefore, of contra-
dictory meanings. There Is a similar feel, for Instance, as In Dhlomo's
poetry (as In 'Valley of a thousand hills') where the present world of
oppression Is constructed through rapid, quicksilver like contrasts (cf
Dhlomo, 1985: especially 1941 ff). There Is a definite 'modernist' sense
 In Hlatshwayo's 'Izintoongo'.
    The combination of 'paradoxes' with the labongi's metaphor1c power give
Hlatshwayo's poetry remarkable prowess. They also create In conjunction a
remarkable Imagery around the class he sweats for: It Is a 'patched-up ox-
cart'; It Is a 'woman affianced with only the bridegroom's consent'; It is
heroic but at the same time like an 'ant-eater, you then desert1; it is led
by Ho Chi Minns with plastic buckets and brooms. The imagery captures
simultan-eously the class' power and its lack of power, its dignity and its
absence of stature.
    Already in the above quoted pieces lurks in the shadows the third tech-
nique of composition. Let us explore It in the 'Izimbongo of the Toilers
of Cotton' - of which two pieces are available - 'Salute to Samson Cele'
and 'Sprout further Jabuiani Gwala*. In the latter, Gwala is hailed as
 'Vukuyibambe' - which is a verb and a noun, impossible to translate con-
cisely: it is a regiment ready to enter battles. It is a state of being
('being mobilised'), and it is a battle movement/action. All meanings are
necessary according to Hlatshwayo. But, let us move on in the poem -
Vukulyibambe was 'halted with the spears of retrenchment ...', 'Yet/you
soared up again: an Eaglel' And now arrives the polysemic possibilities of
'soaring up' (the battle cry. flight, flames, etc) to be wedded to the
additive metaphors, eagle, log. blazing fire - Gwala is also a 'black log':
'... Sprout black log/of Haza (a place but also a burning temperament)/once
you were/used as fuel by Frame's supervisors/used as fuel by Frame's
izinduna/... but once alright/you soared up unstoppable/Kloba of Frame/
which now roasts its furnace-stokers' - and playing with to 'soaring up* he
switches tracks - '... as you spread your wings/a blazing eagle of
fire/over Frame's furnaces ..."
    In the 'Salute to Samson Cele' (who was gunned down by a hooded gunman
during the Frame struggles of 1981), Cele is a tree: 'Foreigners' gunpowder
-/anger - provoking sound/ foreigners' gunpowder felled Samson Cele ... on
the soil of Gambushe and Hageba/you have become Omnipotent ...' But Cele
                                59


 Transformation 2                                                   Sftas
is a tree of a special kind: 'Tree of Hagayi/felled/ before maturity/by the
destroyers ...' The Hagayi trees are "never felled, only their bark Is used
annually. From the felled tree we shift through to the Zulu traditional
wooden sleigh/wagon and Its later modifications: '... the wagon you orga-
nized and harnessed at Frame's/has now reached great distances and peaks
Which In turn makes Cele Its wagon-driver: 'Samson Cele/ambassador of
freedom/wagon-driver/shove at the sky/Pass/ Pass on/ these sombre news from
Frame/to your superiors/Tell them: the trickster/the red cobra/the devourer
of households/Is cornered/Tell It to Noses/Inform Bambatha of Nkandla/tell
Maduna .../that the rubble rejected by the Builders of yesterday/has become
the foundation for the houses of tomorrow ..." Finally, In the 'Tears of
the creator - the worker', we find 'Kanyamba', the mythical monster-snake
that sleeps in the forests of Nkandla or Impendle. This monster-snake
occasionally awakes and creates havoc because 1t Is also the tornado and
the hurricane that afflicts KwaZulu/Natal: the tornado 'Kanyanba' the
monster-snake on the prowl. All the qualities of this tornadosnake are
played with to provide metaphoric meaning for the rise of the working-class
in the emergence of COSATU.
    Hlatshwayo then, drawing from the rich tradition of popular symbolism Is
moulding in the mass events of worker gatherings an exciting forest of
symbols. He and Qabula are at the pinnacle of a revival and mutation of
the Intongi tradition here amongst factory workers. The Nguni language, to
allude to Volosinov (1971), has become 'an arena of struggle' and a vehicle
for the sounds of a poetry of liberation.
FOOTNOTES
1.    USUKU1 was first performed at the Lay Ecumenical Centre, Edendale,
      Pietermaritzburg. in 1985 at the Transport and General Workers Union
      AGN. It has been translated by Norman Hthenbu.
2.    First performed at the opening of the Clairwood Trade Union and
      Culture Centre by Ramolao Makhene and William Kentridge, directed by
      Astrid von Kotze.
3.    On Cato Hanor/M'Kumbane - Iain Edwards' forthcoming PhO will be the
      most definitive work on this Important black urban concentration: in
      the meantime this shack/slum-world Is described in Haasdorp and
      Humphreys (eds). 1975.
4.    Of course this participation has exposed Hlatshwayo to new influences:
      black consciousness based poetry In the mid-nineteen seventies
      (Ndebele and Gwala in particular).
5.    Description of this 1n 'A Life, Cruel beyond Belief, manuscript.
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Transformation 2                                                    sitas
      1984, at the moment being expanded into a 'largeish' book.
6.      In Qabula, et a) 1986. First performed at the opening of the
      Clairwood Trade Union and Cultural Centre, October 1985.
REFERENCES
Cronin, J (1986) - 'Black poetry in English in the 1970s*, in English
   Academic Review, 3.
Delia Volpe, G (1978) - Critique of Taste (London).
Ohlomo, HIE (1985) - Collected Horks (edited Visser and Couzens)
   (Johannesburg).
Erlman, V (1986) - 'Colonial conquest and Popular response in Northern
   Cameroon: How literature becomes Oral poetry*, in R. Whittacker and G.
   Seenaert (eds) - Oral Tradition and Literacy (Durban).
Gunner, E (1985) - 'Oral tradition and imbongi poetry' (mimeo)
Kiernan, J (1977) - 'Poor and puritan', in African Studies, 36.
Naasdorp, G and ASB Humphreys (eds) (1975) - From Shantytown to Township
   (Cape Town).
Ong, HJ (1982) - Ora 11 ty and Literacy: the technologizing of the word
    (London/New York).
 Paw, BA (1975) - Christianity and Xhosa Tradition (Cape Town).
 Qabula AT, MS Hlatshwayo and N Malange (1986) - Black Hamba Rising: South
   African worker poets in struggle (Durban).
 Rounds. X (1979) - 'Religious change and social change In South Africa'
    (unpublished PhD thesis. Hew School for Social Research, Mew York.
 Sitas, A (1984) - 'AT Qabula - a working-class poet', in SALB, 9, 7.
    (1985) - 'Strike at Dunlops - A Trial of Strength1. In SALB, 10, 3.
 Sole, K (1985) - 'A reply to Hedu: working class culture'. In SALB, 10, 7.
 Volosinov, V (1971) - Marxism and the Philosophy of Language (New York).
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