29/01/2024
Another day, another demise. Somewhat fatalistically, the end result of an iSandlwana re-enactment is always exactly the same for us Red Coats. But this year, it was indeed a case of "the more things change, the more they stay the same". The date, which was cast in stone for 20 January, was changed at the last minute, for whatever reason, until 27 January. Which meant that any potential tourism marketing flew out of the window.
We had another wrinkle, too. There has been a prolonged battle amongst the Zulu Royal household as to whom would succeed the late King Goodwill Zwelethini. Not surprisingly - apart from anything else it is an extremely well-paid job. So the new King, Misuzulu, was eventually installed by the President last year, having survived alleged attempts on his life, only to have a rival claimant take the matter to the Pretoria High Court and have the decision overturned on the grounds that the selection procedure was not undertaken properly according to customary law. So, legally, this year we had no King, but that didn't stop the Zulus, who basically told the High Court to bu**er off and so the King for-a-day arrived, a fashionable 4 hours late, to a tumultuous welcome from thousands of frenzied subjects.
Ever since we started in 1999, we have always had problems fighting Government inertia and lack of funding, in particular for ammunition as one round now costs over R 12 apiece. This year the inconceivable happened - lots of money, lots of enthusiasm and the powers-that-be really went to town. The organization was great and the producers must be congratulated. Another difference was that us Red Coats are now 25 years older than when we started, so we're getting a little thin on the ground. The Zulus, on the other hand, are becoming more and more enthusiastic and this time an extra couple of hundred more warriors than before turned up. So the future of the event is assured if us Red Coats can hold on.
As usual, the day was hot. Stinking hot, if fact. Hanging around for 4 hours past starting time was therefore spent sweating profusely and having our photographs taken with just about everyone in the audience. Kevin Smith took many, many photos, and I hope that none of them, mainly showing me and Manfred Duval posing with semi-naked maidens, end up on Facebook. I'm sure that my wife will have something to say.
The re-enactment itself was much better than usual. We managed to slow the Zulus down so that they could strut their stuff a little more. They did stay true to form, however, by sneaking up on us from behind the grandstand and taking us by surprise. Vince Nixon had organized a small (very small) bore cannon which greatly added to the effect with Sean Friend stuffing fire-crackers down the barrel and Louis Eksteen having to repair the blown-out breech with one hand and waving a very nice 1822 pattern sword in the other.
Then onto lunch, which we didn't wait for, and general festivities, while we departed ignominiously from the field and made arrangements for our usual resurrection the following day.
By: Pat Rundgren