Before sunrise, the mountains of Mutoko stood silent against the eastern sky, their slopes holding stories passed down through generations.
Three weeks ago, I travelled to Mutoko in search of a story buried among its granite mountains: the ruined kingdom of King Makate, an Iron Age ruler whose name survives in the oral traditions of this often-overlooked corner of eastern Zimbabwe.
The journey began in the biting cold of a July morning. At precisely 6:45am, we left Gohori Resort, a striking hospitality retreat tucked beneath a basalt dwala whose towering walls dominate the surrounding valleys.
Winter had settled firmly over Mutoko. Indigenous trees remained green, but the tall grass had turned dry and golden, covering the landscape in a muted winter palette.
Cold air rushed through the vehicle as we headed east along the highway towards neighbouring Mozambique. Birdsong marked the beginning of another African morning.
Then the landscape changed. Beyond the comfort of Gohori Resort lies one of Zimbabwe’s lesser-known historical landscapes — Mutoko Ruins.
It is difficult to imagine, from the peaceful terraces of the resort, that these mountains were once associated with conflict, resistance and the rise and fall of pre-colonial kingdoms.
Somewhere among these granite outcrops, local tradition places the stronghold of King Nehoreka, where stories of warfare, betrayal and survival have been passed down through generations.
Here, archaeology and oral tradition meet. The monuments sit more than 150 metres above the plains on a vast granite mountain.
According to local oral tradition, this was the seat of King Makate, whose kingdom flourished centuries before Great Zimbabwe and other stone cities of southern Africa reached their peak.
The story of Makate is inseparable from that of Nehoreka, a powerful ruler from the east, in present-day Mozambique.
According to local tradition, Nehoreka marched against Makate, but was defeated. He then offered his sister, Njapa, in marriage as a gesture of peace.
The peace did not last. War returned. And in one of the most enduring versions of the story, Makate’s kingdom eventually disappeared beneath the mountain, swallowed by the earth. Some villagers still believe that voices from the lost kingdom can occasionally be heard in caves beneath the granite.
History, oral tradition or folklore? At Tere raMakate, the boundaries are not always easy to draw. Before we could explore those stories, however, there was the small matter of climbing the mountain.
The drive from Mutoko took us through a landscape shaped by granite. Massive domes rose from the countryside, balancing rocks punctuated the skyline and deep valleys stretched towards the horizon.
The rocks looked ancient and immovable. But they are not untouched. Several granite outcrops have been scarred by quarrying.
Chinese-owned companies have cut into some of the formations to extract stone for construction projects elsewhere, even as many communities around them continue to struggle with rural poverty.
The contradiction is stark. A landscape rich in natural resources, yet surrounded by communities that remain economically marginalised.
At the foot of the mountain, our guide, Wonder Karumazondo, gathered us beneath the granite cliffs. His briefing was short. The climb would not be easy.
Looking up, I immediately understood why. The mountain rose sharply above us. I had underestimated it.
The last time I had tackled a serious climb was more than a decade ago at Matendera Monuments, while working as a tourism correspondent for the Financial Gazette. Years behind newsroom desks had since replaced mountain trails.
That morning, the mountain was about to remind me of the difference. The path narrowed as we entered what Karumazondo described as sacred ground.
The stone walls of Tere raMakate, formerly known as the Mutoko Ruins, sit at the intersection of archaeology and oral tradition — a place where physical evidence and generations of memory tell overlapping stories about eastern Zimbabwe’s past.
Declared a National Monument in 1949 and officially renamed Tere raMakate in 2024, the dry-stone settlement forms part of the wider Zimbabwe Culture tradition associated with sites such as Great Zimbabwe and Khami.
Archaeologists regard it as an important Iron Age political and ceremonial centre. Its granite walls, pottery fragments and evidence of iron working point to a settled and organised society that existed centuries before colonial rule.
The site’s archaeological record also points beyond the immediate region. The earliest recorded scientific excavation was conducted in 1929 by German archaeologist Dr H.A. Wieschoff during the Frobenius Expedition.
Although his excavation methods were later criticised, the material recovered was significant. Among the finds were gold ornaments, Chinese celadon ware, copper bracelets, iron implements and finely burnished pottery.
Beauty, betrayal and the mountain that swallowed a kingdom
The discoveries suggest that the settlement was connected to wider trade networks extending from the Zimbabwe Plateau towards the Indian Ocean.
Yet archaeology cannot answer one question that oral tradition addresses with certainty: Who built it?
According to Budya oral history, the fortress was the seat of Chief Makate, a powerful ruler whose authority was reinforced by sacred medicines believed to protect his kingdom.
Tradition holds that Nehoreka, a rival leader who migrated into present-day Mutoko with his followers, could not defeat Makate in battle. Instead, he sent his sister, Njapa, to marry Makate under the pretence of peace.
Having gained Makate’s trust, she allegedly discovered the source of his spiritual power before returning to her brother. Her actions, according to the tradition, helped pave the way for Makate’s eventual defeat.
“There is a difference between what archaeology can prove and what our oral history has preserved,” Karumazondo, a National Museums and Monuments of Zimbabwe guide, told us.
“The stones tell us people lived here. Our elders tell us who they were.”
That distinction matters. Archaeology confirms the existence of an important Zimbabwe Culture settlement. The identities and exploits of Makate, Njapa and Nehoreka, however, survive mainly through oral tradition.
The two accounts do not necessarily compete. Together, they give Tere raMakate a deeper significance — not simply as an archaeological site, but as a living cultural landscape whose stories remain part of Budya identity.
“This is a place of our ancestors,” Karumazondo warned. “Be mindful of your words.”
From there, the climb became more demanding. The granite rose steeply beneath our boots. We moved carefully across narrow ledges, squeezed past dark caves where guides warned that black mambas occasionally roam and climbed smooth rock faces that once formed part of the kingdom’s natural defences.
Karumazondo pointed out caves and burial places believed by local communities to be associated with members of the ancient royal household.
Spirit mediums, he said, still visit the mountains in search of spiritual renewal. The mountain was no longer simply a backdrop to the story.
It had become part of the story. The higher we climbed, the harder I breathed.
My colleagues from ZTN, The Herald and the Financial Gazette appeared to move effortlessly from rock to rock. I was having a much more difficult conversation with gravity.
Several times I thought about turning back. But the thought of standing where one of Zimbabwe’s forgotten rulers was believed to have governed was enough to keep me moving.
Sweat soaked through my jacket despite the winter chill. Every muscle protested. Then the mountain offered a reprieve.
As the first sunlight reached the granite, I caught the faint earthy smell of the rock and surrounding vegetation. Birds suddenly broke into song, their calls carrying across the valleys.
For a moment, I forgot about the climb. The sound took me back to earlier expeditions through Matusadona and Hwange national parks, where the rewards of travel often come when one stops rushing and simply pays attention.
I climbed on. When I finally stopped and looked back, Mutoko Growth Point lay below us. Down there was modern Zimbabwe — commerce, markets, inflation, livelihoods and the daily struggle to make ends meet.
Up here were the remains of a kingdom that belonged to a very different world. The contrast was striking.
After what felt like an age, we reached a natural platform about three-quarters of the way up the mountain. The others were already there.
Some sat on the sun-warmed granite, taking in the view towards Mozambique. Others reached for their cameras.
I sat slightly apart, trying to hide my laboured breathing as I looked across the valleys and woodlands stretching towards the eastern horizon.
For once, there was little to say. Karumazondo walked to the edge of the mountain and slowly surveyed the landscape below.
Then he began to tell us what lay beyond the horizon.
The post Beauty, betrayal and mountain that swallowed the kingdom appeared first on Zimbabwe Independent.
