Zulu guy meets xhosa guy
Ever wondered where it all started, how it started, and why it started? This has hounded me for a while, and a few weeks ago, I decided to dig for information. I consulted with history first and learned that the feud may have started around the Shaka Zulu era. His leadership is famous of overpowering other tribes and turning every conquered into a Zulu. Shaka hated weak men and his main objective was to grow the Zulu nation. Being forced into another tribe could anger anyone.SEE VIDEO BY TOPIC: When a Zulu guy and xhosa guys meet,by Leon and tafire
SEE VIDEO BY TOPIC: Are Xhosa Guys Really Like This? (#Episode 45) - TaFire, Siviwe Lutseke, Skits by SpheContent:
‘Pay for damages’ (Ukuhlawulela Umntwana)
While I followed up out conversation with a few emails, I was never able to present my full research to him. I defended my dissertation on Tuesday, December 16 th , the morning after Dr. This makes the defence bitter sweet, knowing he will never be able to read and rightly critique my finished work. But his legacy as a historian and teacher, along with the overwhelming contributions he has made to the field, is a gift to everyone who studies the history of South Africa and KwaZulu-Natal.
I was a student under Jeff in Durban in the changeable early to mid s. I wish to share intertwined memories of two moments, both relating to Jeff signing a book of his for me while I was doing my MA in the History Department.
A page of his book on my bookshelf understates the momentous socio-political events unfolding in post-apartheid South Africa at the time; it was signed: Jeff Guy April see image. Also signed on the same day, the second provided an impetus to my desire to continue to write history. Jeff, thank you for that question mark, it shaped my historical turn!
I first met Jeff not that long ago, when I arrived in Durban in January for my dissertation research. Jeff welcomed me warmly - both to the city and the academic community in KwaZulu-Natal.
Over the next six months, Jeff became a dear friend during our shared trips to the archives in Pietermaritzburg, academic discussions about South African legal history, and relaxed dinners in Durban. I will miss him greatly, but always remember him with the utmost warmth and respect. Remembering Jeff Guy. Search this site.
At work in Durban. Photo by Dinesh Balliah. It will certainly be quieter. Jeff meant the world to me. His Meillassoux-influenced analysis of precapitalist Zulu society changed the way I thought about everything from ilobolo to agriculture.
When by the mid-decade I found work overseas, Jeff was usually the first person I called when returning to Durban. He was the friend I asked to speak at the launch of my book in During my sabbatical in , I was able to see him give birth to his monumental Shepstone volume—a fitting last book in its rigor, comprehensiveness, and unsettling narrative.
There are so many places in or near Durban I associate with Jeff. One of the pictures of Jeff that sticks in my mind, however, is an imagined one. This came from a story he told us halfway through a History Seminar: how he had launched himself in pursuit of a truck removing sand from the beach to discover where and to whom it was travelling.
I can imagine an irritated Jeff doing just that. Jeff was more than a mentor, but an icon of an honest, gritty, old fashioned scholarship in an academic world today dominated at times by productivity and fashionable sound bites.
He had a restless passion for rigorous research and would never compromise on the importance of spending time in the archives. Only in August, he smoothed the path among archivists in Pietermaritzburg for me to access a wealth of material on education in Natal that had not been catalogued and thus made available to researchers.
But more than that he was a deeply political scholar; always cynical toward those who hold or held power, past and present. Not only was he still diving into new projects in his 70s, but he frequently found time to write letters or pieces in newspapers. Whether it was bringing attention to the jarring contrast between the rich and poor as you climb Che Guevara Moore Road, or the reification of chiefs in the Traditional Courts Bill, he wanted those in power to feel uncomfortable and under scrutiny.
He represented in person all the things I respect and admire most about the South African academic tradition. I will miss him dearly. I think my favorite memories of Jeff involve carpooling to the archives in Pietermaritzburg. There were, admittedly, a few times when I thought we might not survive the drives since he took harassing Mercs and BMWs so seriously.
As he often said, he considered this task "the last vestige of class warfare. I am forever grateful for that education and, of course, for his friendship. Miss him: -Electrifying a class of undergrad creationists, evolutionists and undecideds with his explication of human evolution he was shocked to find that after a whole semester and after a vote, only a few creationists had changed their minds -Receiving leather shoes from Molly by post to go walking on the beach in -Taking me and other students through, and giving us free access to, his own voluminous notes and pioneering research on Natal that finally saw the light fully packed into his Theophilus Shepstone book -Being the difficult person I fought with last year and thank god managed to reconcile with though I wish it had been better -Securing and thereafter continuing to negotiate a grant to support the completion of the book.
Taking me and Percy to the beautiful aberration of the Oppenheimers' estate and somehow just avoiding all three of us ending up in a road accident going back to the airport.
It seems like his watchful, aggressive driving style was the thing that saved us from collision. Jeff made everything personal. He insisted on the personal nature of everything, the love and affront and importance of the past and present.
That feels quite strange. And now I am in a daze of jet lag, with memories and emotions trickling back to me about the time I've spent with Jeff. To do so was to take one's life into one's own hands - or to put it one's life in Jeff's hands, more accurately.
He was impervious to criticism of his driving methods; in fact, any backseat commentary would only spur him on to greater feats of weaving and challenging and class-warfare expletives. He approached driving like he approached life, and relationships: brutally honest, incisively critical, and unwilling to let anyone get away with anything unfair.
He had a very well-honed sense of justice, and I always admired that about him. Life with him - like driving with him - was always exhilarating. I share Mark's sentiments about Jeff's scholarship. I always appreciated the grumpy disdain he had for careerism of any kind, and for any fawning over fashionable theorists. He was a serious historian who was driven not by fame or recognition, as far as I could tell, but by honest curiosity.
He had the spirit of an investigator, with an uncommon concern for the stories of his characters. We have him to thank for reclaiming so many figures from the archives and bringing them to life for us.
I have two abiding memories of my time with Jeff - important to me even though they may seem banal to others. Jeff was kind enough to invite me into the group, an treated me like a serious scholar despite my youth and relative ignorance of Natal history.
I learned more from him in those sessions than I did in many of my graduate classes. After this particular meeting I have in mind, Jeff, Meghan and I were walking through the campus on our way home, when I suggested the idea of a book - the book that eventually became Ekhaya.
Had Jeff not been there to receive and encourage the idea, it would have never come to fruition. He believed in it. Sadly, we never got to launch it with him, and this is something I will always regret. I hope that when we do launch it we can do so in memory of him. My second memory is of sitting with Jeff in his flat, drinking red wine and chatting while looking out over Durban below. I had been surprised by the invitation to his home, as I had been convinced for months that he disliked me.
His warm gesture shattered my assumptions, and I was touched to be invited into his world. It was my induction to the real Jeff, the Jeff that all of his friends know and cherish: cartoonishly curmudgeonly in demeanor, but warm, tender, and even loving in spirit. As I write these memories, many more flood to mind. It's hard for me to imagine the Durban community without him. He was so central to that group.
We are all the less for this loss. I miss him already. Looking back over my email correspondence with him, I see that our letters were brief and pragmatic. We assumed we would see each other again. As Elda Lyster put it to me in an email just moments ago: We should take this as a lesson to appreciate our friends more while they're with us.
I remember Jeff as a vividly and intensely alive person with a fierce and commanding passion to grasp the world. History was written all over him, which is part of what impelled him I think to become an historian. And he had the greatest respect for its moral purpose. He was deeply amiable behind the gruffness, deeply empathetic behind the embattlement, above all: deeply humane.
I shall always remember him that way. This is a very sad loss. He was a towering figure in the historiography, and a wonderful person.
I met Jeff in in my first week in the archives at Killie Campbell in Durban, and we struck up a fast friendship, eating at all the restaurants at Davenport Road, drinking copious glasses of red wine, and listening to him strum the guitar. I maintain he was just excited to meet anyone else who'd read the Natal Witness between He was externally gruff, but very kind; harshly critical, but wonderfully sensitive.
He was truly a big, bearded teddy bear who pretended to be gruff and tough and we all just agreed to the facade. I was simultaneously delighted and terrified by his doggedness, his crankiness, and his incredibly sharp research.
I wrote back, excited with the possibility of seeing him this June. South Africa has lost a keen scholar, and I have lost a mentor that I respected greatly.
Hamba kahle, Jeff. The first time I met him, I was justifiably greeted in a suspect manner. He was quite surly with me. I was an American, one strike against me there are too many Americans who after a half dozen interviews during a semester in Africa are experts in its history and affairs. I was an ordained minister, two strikes against me.
How could I ever become a substantive historian? Both strikes combined to make me a missionary, Colenso notwithstanding, strike three. I had spent enough time growing-up in the military to know that effective leadership is not always dependent on a gregarious and affirming disposition.
During our first meeting, I was in a tie and jacket.
Muhammed Haron. Islam, which belonged to the marginalised religious traditions during the era of apartheid, was recognized as one of the traditions which struggled alongside others to bring about social justice in South Africa. During the apartheid period the South African society witnessed the gradual growth of Islam, particularly amongst the Africans. This phenomena not only alarmed the Churches - particularly the Nederlandse Gereformeerde Kerk which was the state church, but also those amongst the government circles.
While I followed up out conversation with a few emails, I was never able to present my full research to him. I defended my dissertation on Tuesday, December 16 th , the morning after Dr. This makes the defence bitter sweet, knowing he will never be able to read and rightly critique my finished work. But his legacy as a historian and teacher, along with the overwhelming contributions he has made to the field, is a gift to everyone who studies the history of South Africa and KwaZulu-Natal. I was a student under Jeff in Durban in the changeable early to mid s.
Comedy Video: Leon Gumede – Zulu guy meets Xhosa guy
There is a small but significant Xhosa-speaking Mfengu community in Zimbabwe , and their language, isiXhosa, is recognised as a national language. The Xhosa people are divided into several tribes with related yet distinct heritages. In addition, there are other tribes found near or among the Xhosa people such as abaThembu , amaBhaca , abakoBhosha and amaQwathi that are distinct and separate tribes which have adopted the isiXhosa language and the Xhosa way of life. The name "Xhosa" comes from that of a legendary leader and King called uXhosa. There is also a fringe theory that, in fact the King's name which has since been lost among the people was not Xhosa, but that "xhosa" was a name given to him by the San , which means "fierce" or "angry" in Khoisan languages. The Xhosa people refer to themselves as the amaXhosa , and to their language as isiXhosa. Presently approximately 8 million Xhosa are distributed across the country, and the Xhosa language is South Africa's second-most-populous home language, after the Zulu language , to which Xhosa is closely related. The pre apartheid system of Bantustans denied the Xhosa South African citizenship, but enabled them to have self-governing "homelands" namely; Transkei and Ciskei , now both a part of the Eastern Cape Province where most Xhosa remain. As of [update] the majority of Xhosa speakers, approximately 5.
Zulu guy meets Xhosa guy İndir
Nov At home we are a family of nine my dad and mum and seven children. I am the third born at home. But at home it was otherwise, my older sister who stays in Johannesburg fell pregnant in no one knew at home until she delivered the baby then it when she told us after delivering the baby. My father sent my mother to Johannesburg she came back with the baby and the news that the boy will come and pay for damages and cleans our home.
Linguistically, the northern and southern Nguni are still quite close and can usually make themselves understood to each other; a large number of words are the same. The Swazi language though has undergone a number of sound shifts; that indicates that the language separated from the other Nguni languages quite a while ago. Tendency to divide - the underlying basis of this fissiparous tendency seems to be the desire of the people to feel close to the chief; as a polity grew larger, some of the people were inevitably feeling more remote and neglected. They were more ready to give their loyalty to an alternative leader.
SA organisation creates health posters in multiple languages to educate on Corona
South Africa 13 March — BreadCrumbs have made three posters about washing your hands. The company knows that humans can be lazy when it comes to handwashing. They said as humans we sometimes need prompts in order to remember what to do.SEE VIDEO BY TOPIC: Different types of people when playing video games
This is how it started: this Zulu chap from Durban finds himself working in Cape Town where he meets this beautiful Xhosa lady. They fall in love. But a few months after the romance has taken off, the guy gets a plum job in Johannesburg. He speaks to his lady about this, and she tearfully lets him go with the promise that they will continue their romance over the phone. Long-distance relationships are fraught, as we all know. As a result they don't know if their promises to each other will stand the test of time.
The Zulu-Xhosa Feud