Sleeping with Wethesiwe

After crossing the Zambezi River on our way to Bulawayo, Zimbabwe for the Mennonite World Conference, nine of us foreigners arrive at our final destination for the day. We’re tired and hope for a nice hotel where we can shower and sleep in a comfortable bed. We haven’t had either for five days.

But it’s not to be. We’re introduced to local families who will accommodate us for the night.

Wethesiwe Hadebe

I meet my host, Wethesiwe (wah-TESS-i-way) Hadebe. He leads me through the dark streets of the city to a little house with three tiny rooms: bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom.

After I brush my teeth in the kitchen sink, I step into the bedroom. It contains a bed that almost fills the room. Wethesiwe and I both get under the covers – a heavy comforter and thin cotton sheet – and begin a conversation.

Wethesiwe is 26 and studying retail management. He is part of the Brethren in Christ church. He was baptized in November 2002 and hopes to marry soon. However, he must negotiate for his bride.

Wethesiwe is going to ask his wealthiest relatives, probably uncles, to negotiate for him. Together they’ll go to the bride’s home to meet her parents. Wethesiwe likely will sit on the floor while his uncles do the talking.

After some informal greetings, business will begin. The introduction fee (just for the privilege of speaking) will be $5, and the courtship fee $40. If you behave yourself, you won’t have to pay the $80 “disrespect” or damage fee for getting the daughter pregnant before you’re married. Then there’s the question of how many cows you’re willing to offer for the bride. Quite a negotiation.

Wethesiwe and I pray before we go to sleep. He prays for peace, safety, and freedom from temptation. I pray with thankfulness for Wethesiwe’s hospitality and also for his future.

The bed is comfortable and warm.

I wake up about an hour later and find myself getting a little cool. I discover that Wethesiwe has most of the heavier comforter. I try to pull some of it onto myself without disturbing him. It’s not working. Do I pull a little harder, or just make do with what I have?

I lay awake for some time thinking. This isn’t very hospitable or comfortable! Then I start musing about haves and have-nots. I’m one of the have-nots now. I don’t like it very much.

I know the comforter is big enough for both of us and definitely too much for one, but what can I do about it? Do I wake Wethesiwe and demand that he share? It’s his home and his bed!

Can’t Wethesiwe just wake up and see that I’m cold? If he were a good host, he would! I resign myself to sleeping with a corner of the cotton sheet and hope it doesn’t disappear as well. I finally get drowsy enough to fall asleep again.

The next morning, the roosters are crowing and there’s a faint voice coming through the thin walls. Wethesiwe is in the kitchen, praying his usual morning prayers. He comes into the bedroom smiling and let’s me know it’s time to get ready. After washing up, we head back down the same streets that we had walked just a few hours earlier.

After reconnecting with my fellow travellers, I say goodbye to my host and get back on the road.

As I reflect on the time I spent with Wethesiwe, I realize I didn’t like the situation I was in. I grumbled, “Why can’t he share? Why can’t I ask him to?”

Now I realize that Wethesiwe has more right to ask these things of us than I do of him. That night, I finally had the opportunity to feel what it’s like to have very little. Since then, I’ve often wondered what goes through the minds of people in the two-thirds world as they lie awake at night.

I had hoped for a bed in a fancy hotel, but got a cold night in an ordinary home instead. The truth is, I’d take that night’s experience over any Holiday Inn.

Art Harms attends Trinity Mennonite Fellowship, Mather, Man.