Trek Befok: Day Nine: Where it ends and where it begins

I'll never forget the first time I saw Dingane's royal capital in a book from the the Voortrekker Monument in Pretoria: over 1700 huts and over 7500 people, all under his rule on the hill at Mgungundlovu.

It is in the bumpy hills of the Emakhosini Valley and it is a piece of land this country has managed to keep sacred. And by piece I don't mean farm. It's quite a drive from where I was staying but the fluffy green hills and quick glimpse of the ocean made it all worth it.

There is a multi-media center at Mgungundlovu which at first I was hesitant to visit but later very grateful for because it gave me a new insight into the Zulu culture and the beautifully rich history of this area. My tour guide Jabu Maqwase was, similar to me, at first hesitant to let me 'in' but then later warmed up to me as she listened to my story. The multi-media center is very cool, and gives a very interesting way to learn about history as opposed to your run of the mill museum, but I'm not going to go into detail about it because it's much prettier outside.

Although Dingane's kraal was burned to the ground, archaeologists have managed to reconstruct some of the huts. The whole place is so cleverly designed with the King's hut (10m in diameter) sitting at the top of the hill overlooking all the other huts, and the entrance towards the bottom of the hill. And the views from up there! I had such a special moment, with Jabu by my side, just realising where I was and how I had managed to trek all the way from Grahamstown to this spot just to feel the moment of clarity I felt right then and there. It was beautiful.

Across from Dingane's kraal is the Hill of Execution where, apparently, Retief and his men were dragged to and killed. There is a monument built there with the names of all those who died as well as grave for Retief. Whether it's real or not I don't know, but seeing it, and realising just how far he had to travel in order to get land, helped me get some closure as to how far I have trekked to understand my land. To learn about my history. About my identity. About my country.

I can officially say, that I am a proud Afrikaner, but my travels are far from over and my search for an answer about who I am will probably never be found. And I am okay with that. Because now I am happy, and the empty space in my heart is filled with all the beauty, kindness, interest, love, care, enthusiasm, and joy I have seen over the last few days.