17/07/2025
Part 2: Clan Names Know No Borders: How Ancestry Links Us Across Countries
In a world where colonial borders divided us and surnames were lost in translation, our clan names remained the one unshaken bridge — connecting people across provinces, countries, and even cultures. You may carry a South African ID and speak isiZulu or Xitsonga, but your clan name might echo through Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Eswatini, and beyond. In truth, your clan name doesn’t just say where you're from — it says where you’ve been.
Take the story of Soshangane kaZikode, for example — a name that lives in the praises of many people from KwaZulu-Natal to Maputo, from Giyani to Harare. Soshangane was born in the Ndwandwe kingdom in northern KZN, but after conflicts with, he crossed the borders into Mozambique and established the powerful Gaza Empire. Today, thousands of people in Mozambique and Zimbabwe carry clan praises that mention Zikode, Ndwandwe, and Soshangane — not knowing that these names are part of the very soil and story of KwaZulu-Natal.
This is not just Soshangane’s story. It’s ours too. Many African surnames and clan praises are not confined to one place. They are nomadic, tied to movements of survival, war, and migration. For example:
A person with the Mthethwa clan name in KZN might find distant relatives in Swaziland (Eswatini) and parts of Mozambique, because the Mthethwa were once a vast confederation that predated even the Zulu kingdom.
Someone with the Gasa or Mbatha clan name might find connections among the Zulu, Swazi, and even Tsonga-Shangaan people.
The Ngwenya, Dlamini, Zungu, or Mabuza clan names appear across South Africa, Eswatini, and Mozambique because these families didn’t always recognize borders. They moved where life pushed them — and they took their clan names with them.
What colonialism did was build walls between people who once shared history. It gave us new surnames and foreign systems, and in some cases, stripped us of our clan names. But if you look deeper — in the praise poems of elders, in oral traditions, in the way your grandmother addresses you — you may realize your identity isn’t as “local” as you think. You may be Zulu by nationality, but Ndwandwe by blood. You may speak Shona, but your great-grandfather was Nguni.
Our clan names speak of rivers crossed, lands conquered, wild animals subdued, spirits encountered, and kingdoms built. They are not just poetic flattery — they are ancient records of migration, of survival, of identity.
Even today, when someone begins their praises with:
Zikode kaNdabansele,
Soshangane, Maphenyane, Gaza!
…you are hearing more than just a chant. You are hearing the footsteps of a nation that walked from KZN to the Indian Ocean, building an empire as they went.
Why It Matters
In a time where identity is often reduced to race, language, or location, clan names remind us of something deeper: lineage. Not just where you're born, but where you belong. And that belonging often goes beyond the modern-day map.
So the next time someone asks, “Ubungubani?” — don’t stop at your surname. Go further. Speak your clan name. Ask your elders. Follow the praise lines. You may discover you have roots in places you’ve never set foot in — but that live in your blood.
Because you stand as one, but you come as a thousand.
And those thousand stretch far beyond your village or country.
Your clan name knows no borders — and neither should your sense of identity.
