Wait… What connection between South Africa and Africans of the Diaspora…?!

With all of the conversation surrounding the relationship between Diasporic Africans and Continental Africans, I think it is the perfect time to share a unique connection between Africans of the Diaspora and Black South Africans that I had never heard before.

Khwezi with Alfred and Nosipho in February 2015 

I first met Alfred in 2015 during my first visit to Clermont, KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa. I had spent the entire day before watching his wife Nosipho cook meal after meal (she was the umpheki) as the rest of us chopped and chopped and chopped the different vegetables for each meal. I honestly had never seen cooking pots so big, but they were necessary to accommodate the steady stream of people who were coming during umsebenzi In preparation for the funeral and celebration of the life of the loved one that would occur over the next few days.


I have not talked much about that experience… perhaps I will some day. It was there in Clermont that I noticed the many similarities to what I had experienced during the summers at my grandparents house in rural Alabama throughout my childhood. So many things felt familiar… Perhaps I will share more about that some time.

Anyway, I first met and had an opportunity to speak with Alfred after the funeral. I was excited to see both Alfred and Nosipho last month during our traditional Zulu wedding celebration. After all of the greetings and introduction to my husband, he told me that he had something he wanted to say to African Americans. I was curious about what he would say. And once I heard his message, I promised I would share it.

“My name is Afred Mandlakayise Ziqubu. I’m from Umlazi. Umlazi is South of Durban. This… Clermont being west of Durban. I want to say something about YOU coming here to South Africa to have the ceremony… the wedding ceremony. People don’t know what African Americans are. Most of African Americans went to America as slaves, our forefathers, but the difference between South Africa, KZN which is KwaZulu-Natal, the difference is that people were sent by King Shaka to go and learn the wisdom of Americans in America. Which makes you, when you are coming here, you are coming to your home… your real home… this is your roots, so YOU ARE WELCOMED.”

Oh… and I will add this for good measure. African peoples have always honored greatly mouth-to-ear, spoken history. All (yes, I said ALL) of those who retain a connection to their family lineage know their family name(s) for many previous generations. (I have taught 13 year olds who knew.) This knowledge is most likely not given to them in a book or on a piece of paper, but it is written on their hearts through the sharing of oral histories. It is from that place and sense of knowing that this message is shared.

Let the unpacking begin…

Connecting with Haitian moms

There is a unique phenomenon that I am trying to navigate with the Haitian moms in this setting. I will try to describe it to you.

If I had to guess, I would say that 1/4 to 1/3 of the women we are supporting are Haitian. At this public hospital, we are working with young doctors who either speak Spanish as a first language or as second language. Most of those who speak Spanish natively are Dominican and most who speak as a second language are Haitian. On any shift I have worked there may be two or three Haitian doctors. However, only the Dominican  doctors attempt to communicate with the Haitian mothers.

I know… Crazy, right? A Haitian doctor can be standing there hearing the mom speak in Kreole and not engage… or only engage en Español.

Navigating this medical environment en Español is a great challenge in itself. Making sure that I interact respectfully with the doctors is a priority. Some are very accommodating of our presence and invite us to participate in various aspects of the birth process and accept simple assistance with things when they find it makes their jobs easier. Others are more skeptical, so I am mindful about how I engage them.

Sometimes as I struggle to communicate with the doctors, a Haitian mom will begin to speak to me in Kreole.

May I take a moment to say how amazingly beautiful Kreole is? When they speak, it sounds like music and like honey rolling off of their tongues… Simply beautiful.

In those chaotic moments, when I have just realized that I did not understand what the doctor needed when they requested the lamp be turned on… or that someone bring a wheelchair… or understand what the doctor is saying after I ask what I am to be feeling for on the mom’s abdomen when I massage a mom’s belly to check for bleeding… or whatever else they say that is spoken so quickly that I am struggling to understand… I can get really caught up.

Often the Haitian mom we are attending to will begin to speak directly to me. In those moments, the only words I can muster are words in the language I have been trying to convey to the attending doctors: “Hablo Ingles… Hablo poquito Español… Repetes despacio, por favor…”

Before you think it is cruel of me to respond en Español, I must also make you aware that at least half of the Haitian moms I have encountered speak some amount of Spanish. So their effort to speak to me in Kreole is intentional and an effort to try to say something they did not want to share broadly with others.

When the Haitian mom’s begin to speak in their native tongue, I am hard pressed to find ANY of my Kreole… AT ALL… But the next thing they do is what hurts my heart the most. Most of them, after I respond in the only thing I can conjure up (which would be Español), divert their gaze from me and refuse to engage me again. It almost feels they sense a betrayal and now place me in the same category with those doctors who refuse to speak with them in their language in front of Dominicans.

ED07E891-B6B2-420B-926C-4312C8C5281F-4645-00000BAD006FD056Hold on…

I had to pause to make sure I downloaded Haitian Creole in my Google Translate App for work tonight. I realized it wasn’t downloaded properly last night while I was looking for a lifeline to the Haitian moms… and then I realized that it doesn’t provide pronunciation, so I hope I am able to remember some previous lessons about the Kreole alphabet.

I can tell you in another post about ways I am finding success with communicating with the Haitian moms. In this post, I just wanted to share this current challenge I am trying to figure out how to overcome over the next few days.

And please know that I do have a theory about why I am noticing this social cultural context in the hospital. I could be wrong, but it feels familiar. I notice a certain social context with the Haitian doctors as well that looks familiar. It’s not a complaint, just an observation. It could be for a myriad of reasons but I have my theory.

Perhaps I will share those thoughts in another post. I am headed to work now.

Send a sister some positive energy!🤰🏿🙌🏿🙏🏿👶🏾🤰🏾


Home Alone…

“I am gonna miss you so much,” he says.
“What am I gonna do while you’re gone?” he says.
“Oh, I am going to miss you SO MUCH MORE, Babe…” I said.
“What will you do in this house all by yourself?” I said. “You don’t even have the boys here…”

You get FOUR GUESSES as to what Coach Gene has planned while I am away helping Dominican and Haitian women BIRTH BABIES in the Dominican Republic… While I am resting up from WORKING HARD on the night shift every night from 11pm -7am, his daylight hours WILL BE FULL!

I swear, he was acting SO PITIFUL and I was feeling SO BAD for him.

I was all like, “Babe… you gotta ENJOY this time! What would you do if you were a CELIBATE, single man with no kids?” I should have known he was up to something when over the next few days he got a twinkle in his eye and a pep in his step.

YOU GUESS what he has planned:
A. Going on several golfing trips
B. Taking a motorcycle refresher course
C. Taking a Conceal Carry Course and Gun Training
D. Going horseback riding at a local ranch

Go ahead… guess… you won’t get it wrong.

This joker… And here I was thinking that he needed his friends to set up play dates or something. He has plans and will be living LA VIDA LOCA! I was even trying to fuss about him spending money… Nope! He was like, “It was only $20…”

But seriously, I am happy for him! He has worked SO HARD for his family over the past 23 years of our marriage. He is such a WONDERFUL HUSBAND AND FATHER… I am so grateful he will have this time alone… where he only has to be responsible to and for himself.

I know every time he leaves me somewhere by myself I LOVE IT!!!! As a home school mom for 13 years and being consumed with the needs of my family 24/7 most of our marriage, I have come to recognize that self-care is a most valuable commodity.


Oh! Just remember… DO NOT BUY a horse… a motorcycle… or any of the other stuff… JUST ENJOY!


Dr. Doula