SWAMPY TALES

In Ci- Unga language , Ukulalikisha simply means to let something stay overnight. If a person is staying in a place for a night, we say ukulaala or ukulinda, the same word used for waiting. From ukulaala comes ukulalikisha, which can also literally mean to delay. As you read this post today (23 rd December 2019, the fish ban is in full force (from December- March). Some researchers think this is unnecessary given the sources, breeding and life cycle of fish in the swamps. However, laws must be obeyed for, in most cases, they are made with good intentions that tend to benefit citizens. At the end of the ban, especially from April to August, most fishermen will be using Amalalikisha as their preferred technique of fishing. Amalalikisha is just another commercial stationary gillnet fishing system we employ to catch different kinds of fish, mostly the cichlid species, nswikashi ; by letting nets in water for a night. (Catfish is also caught this way). The type and size o

Of the commercial fishing methods, ukusebesha is one of the most prominent. Ukusebesha simply means setting your nets and wait by. You normally wait near the nets such that after many fish have gilled, you remove it and set your nets again. The process can be repeated as many times as possible, depending on the type of fish and time of the day. The most talked about type of ukusebesha method by most Researchers is that done in the evening and early in the morning concerning nocturnal Mormyridae kind of fish such as Marcusenius macrolepitodus ( Mintensa ) and Petrocephalus simus (C ise ). What they call Ukusakila lupata (Ichikawa 1985 and Ichiro 1987) where you find a school of impata, set your net and drive them to it during the day is also termed as ukusebesha impata in Lunga. To catch mintesa by this method, we first of all identify their hide-out which is almost always underneath a floating island (lufunsu) otherwise known as mukoma.   They will take cover in her

    Almost every Unga man you meet in and around the Bangweulu swamps, or indeed anywhere in the world, is a typical fisherman. Our main economic activity is fishing, and so, we are into it as soon as we start crawling. It is no wonder we are sometimes mockingly referred to as ba Tubulu , meaning one who spends most of his time in water and, therefore, even relieves himself therein. It is estimated that twenty-three per cent of the fish consumed in the Copperbelt Province of Zambia is procured from Lunga. This goes to show that we possess unmatched expertise in fishing, which I discuss in a series of posts starting with this one. Research shows that we have over 80 fish species, which calls for various ways of catching it. As in any other trade, you need to know what you want to achieve in order to employ a particular system to achieve your goal. As fishermen, we also employ several fishing methods and tools to get the type of fish we desire. We, therefore, adopt suitable m

Wondering how you should behave when you are hosted by a Unga family? Let’s take a dive into Unga tribe’s table etiquette. It’s another delicious slice from our lifestyle. First time visitor to the family or just arrived?   If so, you are likely going to be served alone or as a group of guests. In that case, you can mind your own business because your hosts will be on their own, too, until you have interacted for a day or two.   First and foremost, you will notice that our normal day starts with Nshima, the same thing known by different names in Africa; Ugali in Kenya, Pap in   South Africa, Papa in Botswana, Posho in Uganda, Sadza if you are from Zimbabwe but we   also call it Ubwali in Lunga; (a strong meal porridge made from either maize, millet or cassava mealie powder) served   with some accompaniment we term relish, for breakfast or brunch, followed by yet another Nshima with something for lunch, and later in the evening you are likely to have Nshima with so and so ac

SWIMMING AS PASTIME AND SURVIVAL ACTIVITY Can You Swim? Most people know swimming as merely a sport. Nature dictates that we in Lunga treat swimming as a critical activity. The fact that water is all around us makes it instinctive that we learn to swim; not only for leisure and pleasure but also for survival purposes.   Most accidents we are involved in concern capsized canoes and boats when we travel around the islands; and safety equipment such as life jackets are unaffordable to many. Swimming is therefore a survival skill that MUST be learnt at a very tender age.   Usually, our mothers like performing certain chores from the harbour. You will find them in good numbers at a harbour with white crystalline fine sand washing their pots, plates and clothes after which they will swim in clear, fresh water. As children, you follow your mothers and play in shallow water while they keep that love-punctuated watchful eye over you. As you grow older, you stop that simple spl

UKU KONTA: A PADDLING SIN IN LUNGA If you have never been to Lunga in the Bangweulu Swamps, you might have just heard of these fishermen who earn their    living largely by fishing. Although some researchers want us believe that there’s no any other form of Agricultural activities taking place in swamps, the fact is that people on islands surrounding Lake Bangweulu take time to grow cassava, finger millet, rice, maize and a few other crops. That said, the main activity, especially between April and November is fishing. There are various commercial fishing methods employed but I will here mention amalalikisha , where you set your floats and sinkers - fitted nets either early in the morning or early evening and wait by. Usually, your catch for this type of fishing would be mintesa (marcusenius macrolepidotus). Likely, you will belong to a production unit called nsanga as a subordinate, umuswa , whose boss is called umukolombeshi or umushila (he owns the fishing g

ABA- UNGA NEVER DIE! Yes, you read right. Ungas never die! They only transform. To know what I mean, read on. I lived in a village at the northern end of Bwalya Mponda chiefdom. The next, known as Maishike was north-east. There was my grandfather’s desolate village of Matolongo , otherwise known up to now as Chibolya, somewhere in between. Most of the evenings, we could see some huge bright torch light further down Chibolya and occasionally some sound of gunfire.   One day, I asked my mother where the bright torch- light was coming from: “It’s Musanika (Torchbearer). He’s a dead person walking by the shores of Chibolya.” “You mean a ghost? What about the gunfire?” “Oh, I never told you,” she said, with a gentle love tap on my shoulder. “The gunfire is real and it’s coming from another dead man called Sande Puwa.” “Who is Sande Puwa and why does he fire guns and at what?” I asked out of typical child curiosity. “Sande Puwa was a skillful hunter. During on