The Botanical Garden was peaceful. The smell of damp earth brought an ancient sense of tranquility. Mario observed the tall trees and asked, “Professor, I always hear that our ancestors were very connected to spirits. Was that religion or tradition?”
Mahlemba smiled. “It was life, Mario. More than a thousand years ago, before foreign religions arrived, the people of these lands already believed that everything had a soul: the tree, the water, the mountain, the fire. There was no separation between the sacred and the everyday. People lived in dialogue with nature because they knew they depended on it.”
“"So the spirits were everywhere?" Mario asked.
“They were in everything that breathed,” the professor replied. “They were called mizimu, makolo, vadzimu, depending on the region. They were the ancestors, invisible guardians of harmony. The spirit houses, small temples near the fields or rivers, were places of conversation, not of fear. There, people asked for rain, health, harvest, forgiveness. But more than asking, they learned to give thanks.”
Mario listened attentively. "It sounds like a philosophy of balance."“
“And so it was,” said Mahlemba. “Life wasn’t explained, it was respected. Man knew he didn’t dominate the earth; he was part of it. Therefore, ancient wisdom produced neither waste nor loneliness. Wealth lay in living without breaking the thread of harmony.”
Mario remained silent. “Today we do the opposite, professor. We exploit what we should protect and forget to be grateful.”
Mahlemba nodded. “It’s the price we pay for replacing reverence with haste. Ancient spirituality wasn’t about praying a lot, it was about living well. And perhaps the crisis of our time isn’t one of faith, but of meaning.”
Final message: Before the temples, there was respect. Before the prayers, there was gratitude. And whoever returns to listen to the earth, rediscovers their own spirit.
