In Xhosa culture, ulwaluko is a sacred rite of passage marking the journey from boyhood to manhood. It’s a deeply spiritual and communal initiation ritual where ancestral teachings meet personal becoming.
For Vuyo Ngcofe, a trans man, filmmaker and the Founding Director of Trans Conversations, this passage also became the moment where tradition met transition, a defining affirmation of his manhood and cultural identity.
“The year was 2011, in December. We were 18 when my twin brother and I went through ulwaluko,” Vuyo recalls. “In our culture, when you are twins, everything done to one must be done to the other. So, when my twin prepared to go to the mountain, I was part of the process too.”
More Than Symbolism
The ritual, steeped in reverence and responsibility, was not just symbolic for him. “Our process started with imbhola, the introduction of the child to the ancestors. When my brother cut his hair, my hair was cut, just like his. Two goats were slaughtered. I had my own blanket, my own goat. It wasn’t symbolic; it was real participation,” he says.
That moment of truth arrived in a single sentence. “When I said the word ‘Ndiyindoda’, I am a man, something shifted inside me,” Vuyo remembers. “It felt like my spirit finally caught up with who I had always been. Before that, I thought I was just a butch lesbian, but in that moment, I knew I wasn’t. I was a man. Those words affirmed me completely.”
Though he was part of the ceremony, Vuyo notes that not every aspect of ulwaluko was opened to him. “When you go to the mountain, they give you a new name,” he explains. “But I didn’t get one. They gave me certain parts of manhood, but not all. Still, that didn’t make me any less. For me, it was an affirmation that this is who I am.”
That experience continues to shape how others see him, too. “Even today, the men I went through the process with call me Saluka wami, it’s what you call someone who attended initiation school with you,” he shares proudly. “It’s a term of respect, of brotherhood. They see me as one of them.”
Vuyo’s late twin brother, who passed away on 23 December 2015, always saw him that way too. “We grew up like brothers, always together, always competing, always fighting and making up,” Vuyo smiles. “When I went to study journalism, he stayed home. Later, when I came back with a girlfriend, he let me use his place for a few hours so we could have privacy. That’s brotherhood. That’s how he saw me, as his brother.”
Sparking a Conversation About Trans Visibility and Culture
Years later, Vuyo would share that experience publicly. A photoshoot and recent Facebook post reflecting on his rite of passage went viral, sparking both praise and criticism.
“Going through ulwaluko with my twin was my first introduction to what it means to be a man within my culture,” he explains. “I wanted to use the photoshoot and the post to start a conversation about how trans men are often excluded from cultural spaces that define manhood in our communities.
“The intention was to show that being trans and being Xhosa are not mutually exclusive. We exist in both worlds, and there should be room for us within our transitions. The post was a form of visibility and education. I wanted to challenge the idea that trans men cannot participate in or belong to cultural practices like ulwaluko simply because of their gender journey.
“Ultimately, I hoped the post would encourage dialogue, understanding, and inclusion, to show that trans men are not outside of our heritage but part of it. Our stories deserve to be seen, respected, and understood within the broader Xhosa and South African context of manhood.”
Coming Out and Navigating Family Acceptance
Coming out as trans to his family, however, was not as straightforward. “I never really had a sit-down moment,” he shares. “I told them through a radio interview. I asked my dad to tell my mom to listen. That’s how they found out.”
Acceptance remains a work in progress. “My mother still calls me Ntombi, which means ‘my girl,’” he says. “At home, we don’t really talk about it. They see me, with my beard now, and they know. But it’s still difficult for them to find the language.”
Building Bridges Through Trans Conversations
Now based in Gqeberha, Vuyo continues to use his voice to shift perceptions and build inclusive spaces through Trans Conversations, a platform he founded to bridge understanding between trans communities, cultural identity, and access to health and dignity. “We’re hosting our first dialogue on gender-affirming healthcare in the Eastern Cape, in collaboration with the Transformation Office at Nelson Mandela University,” he says. “We’re also creating activities that build community and safe spaces across Gqeberha. It’s about visibility, education, and making sure no one feels they must choose between who they are and where they come from.”
For Vuyo, his story is not just personal; it’s political, cultural, and spiritual. “People think transness is a Western thing that lives in hospitals,” he says. “But no, we are trans in our culture, in our homes, in our communities. We are not just trans when we inject hormones; we are trans when we live our truth among our people.”
Vuyo’s journey stands as a powerful bridge between heritage and identity, a reminder that culture and queerness are not opposites but intertwined paths. His voice challenges long-held notions about manhood, inviting a future where trans men can claim their place in both history and tradition.
“For me, ulwaluko was not about becoming a man,” he reflects. “It was about affirming the man I already was.”
