The debate on the Xhosa Traditional
Attire is interesting.
Traditionally nothing was worn just because it looked nice. Colours, fabric, beadwork or even the length of a skirt and whether shoulders were covered all carried meaning. Clan. Status.
Whether you’d been initiated, married, or were in mourning. Red ochre wasn’t a colour choice, it was identity and even resistance. A makoti’s dress wasn’t a style, it was respect made visible.
So the questioning isn’t hate or policing fun. It’s people watching a whole language get flattened into aesthetics, and knowing that once the meaning goes it rarely comes back.
We can wear what we want, that’s our right. Let’s just know what we’re carrying before remixing it.
I sit quietly and realize that God has been taking care of me this whole time. Maybe not in luxurious ways. Maybe not an easy life. But through protection,provision, good health, surviving hard days and always having just enough to keep going.