Rome and Zimbabwe, Fire and Food
Learning about the god of fire and the goddess of lightning.
Hello, wonderful witches!
Friends, I feel like my home is in a horror movie. Chicago is currently besieged by big black houseflies, probably as a result of the record-breaking rain and super humid heat we’ve recently had. Everywhere I turn inside, there are flies. We get rid of 20, and 25 show up in their place. We’ve tried sucking them up with the Dirt Devil and releasing them outside, putting up fly paper (did not work at all), and hoping in vain that the cat will take care of them (she did not). Any suggestions you have for natural fly deterrent would be so helpful. Please and thank you!
Today’s story takes us from Rome to Zimbabwe, and from fire to lightning, as we get ready for a hot summer season. It’s a fascinating look into African culture.
The God and Goddess of Fire
By Ray Mwareya
Vulcanus, celebrated every August, was the Roman god of fire. In Africa, we have an equivalent. Lightning in Zimbabwe, where I was born and grew up, can be ferocious. Hence, we believe that the goddess of fire, hungry from lack of food, is always behind every fatal lightning strike.
But first, let’s bring Vulcanus into the picture. It was thought a furious Vulcanus caused plumes of volcanic fire. Animal and fish sacrifices were tossed into the fire to tame him.
In Zimbabwe, we have Mheni, whom we call the goddess of lightning. To tame Mheni (the African equivalent to the Roman Vulcanus god of fire), each time dark weather arrives, and lightning is charring across the sky, we recite pleas, throw some traditional grain beer into a wood fire, and burn snuff tobacco to tame her, the goddess of lightning.
In childhood, whenever we were frightened by flashes of lightning and thunderstorms, I would see my aunt spilling a cup of grain beer around the fire and burning snuff tobacco until the lightning subsided. “We have heard you, beast; spare the kids,” I’d hear my aunt or neighbor, a famous opaque beer brewer, chanting — while throwing some snuff powder into a smoldering kitchen wood fire and spilling a few lids of beer made from sorghum into the fire, too. Of course, as kids, we would be frozen into silence by the incessant storms, a flash of lightning in the sky, and booms of thunderous Mheni lightning.
It worked somehow, at least on our psyche. As soon as the rituals were recited, we kids would calm into sleeping amidst the thunderstorms, encouraged that Mheni, the goddess of lightning, is being tamed.
Mheni is supremely feared where I come from in Zimbabwe and the surrounding southern part of African countries. She is so dreaded that it’s enforced to the extent that one is highly discouraged from wearing red clothing each time there are storm clouds and lightning in the skies. Mheni is thought to be offended not just by hunger, but also by the sight of red clothing. Such is the fear that Mheni holds over our psyche that, whenever lightning partially strikes a tree near a home, it’s warned: “Mheni the goddess of lightning has left her eggs. She’ll return soon to hatch.” That return means a fatal lightning strike.
But on pacifying Mheni with beer, snuff powder, and grain, I can’t say with finality whether the rituals were solely responsible for making us safe from the African goddess of fire.
Ray Mwareya is a fellow of the World Ethical Data Foundation and a technology journalist. Follow him on Twitter @rmwareya.
In the next issue…
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See you then!
I am so intrigued by these stories! thank you for sharing them.