✝️ The Children Who Crossed the Waters: A Christmas Reflection from Zimbabwe

As of yesterday, Wayne and I—like many Christians—celebrated the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We give Him all honor and praise for everything He has done and continues to do for us, including this miraculous Zimbabwean journey. Through Jesus, we know that this family connection was made possible. We hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and a joyful holiday season in 2025.

In our previous post, I shared that we were preparing to have one of the most sensitive conversations about our bloodline—one that traces back to the African slave trade. We weren’t quite sure where to begin, but we knew this moment couldn’t pass us by. The discussion started gently with our Zimbabwean sister, Margaret, and continued later with "Unc", as we pieced together stories passed down through generations. Denise, Wayne, and I also reflected on what we knew about the first enslaved Africans who arrived in Jamestown, Virginia, in 1619—twenty souls whose journey marked the beginning of a painful yet defining chapter in history. (To dive deeper into this history, feel free to visit and subscribe to: https://thedriverresearchgrp.com/).

From the Zimbabwe perspective, "Unc" and Margaret shared the stories that had survived among our African ancestors. Some remembered people who did not look or speak like them, suddenly appearing and people disappearing in Zimbabwe. Others spoke of villagers who “went missing into the hands of foreigners.” They were mourned as “the children who crossed the waters.” In family storytelling today, Zimbabweans speak of African descendants abroad with pride and emotion, believing that long-lost family members may finally be finding their way home.

During the 1600s, when Zimbabwe was home to the Shona and Ndebele kingdoms, most communities didn’t know where the enslaved were taken. Foreign traders—Portuguese, Arab, Dutch, and later British—operated mainly along the coasts of Mozambique and Tanzania, capturing or purchasing captives who were sent through Indian Ocean routes to Arabia, India, and the Americas. Kingdoms like Mutapa (Monomotapa) and Rozvi were focused on trade in gold, ivory, and cattle, and had little understanding of the vast human tragedy unfolding across the seas.

After our exchange, a quiet moment settled over us—a silence filled with the thought of how much joy our ancestors would have felt knowing we had finally reconnected. Then came a revelation that made the moment just as profound: "Unc" is the Village Head. What an incredible honor! In Zimbabwe, the Village Head (Sabhuku) is the foundation of traditional leadership, appointed under a Chief’s guidance. They oversee village life: settling disputes, allocating land, preserving cultural ceremonies, and maintaining community harmony. They record births and deaths, coordinate development projects, and serve as the community's moral compass. The Village Head is a living bridge between Zimbabwe’s past and present—a custodian of both heritage and hope.

We could not have been prouder of "Unc"! It was only fitting that Denise and I left with a photo beside our relative and Village Head 💚

Have you ever visited a village and met its Village Head? What was your experience?

In closing, we are reminded that our ancestors paid a great price for the freedoms we enjoy today—and for that, we are deeply thankful. But above all, we give thanks for the price Jesus paid at the cross, for He made the ultimate connection between all of humanity.

✨ Next up: join us as we tour the village schools and discover a surprise name we never expected. Stay tuned—the village story continues!