In the presence of mountains, rocks, and stones that have calcified over immense periods of time, we are but a new breed within a multiverse ecosystem that has experienced the timelines of the Big Bang, genesis, and countless beginnings.
Yet academic methodologies of research, excavation, and the pursuit of power have sometimes resulted in humanity violating or shutting down our relationship with these natural technological systems — the places we now call sacred sites.
The inability to interpret the stored archives and codes of ancient boulders and stones contrasts with the richness of the heritage we claim to preserve.
There has been a loss of ancient energy-based sciences and knowledge systems: codes and ways of understanding shared across generations and, perhaps, across the multiverse.
While we prioritize AI and digital structures, we may have disconnected from the fundamental Earth-based “innovation” that is still active, and perhaps defiantly hiding in plain sight.
The spiritual and cultural significance of solid rock, stone, and animals is widely recognized by practitioners of Indigenous knowledge, particularly in relation to solar alignments, seasons, and natural rhythms.
The Loss of Ancient Knowledge
The dark womb is much like the ancient caves of the Earth: spaces of mystery, memory, and transformation. Stone ruins, empires, monuments, and heritage spaces carry stories that we have attempted to preserve and protect. Perhaps entering these spaces can also open a path toward healing — a way of returning to the dark depths and reconnecting with something within us that has been forgotten.
The symbolic tale of the stone woman — her recurring state of being collected, set, separated, and mouldered — portrays a timeline of intimacy with the cosmos: its Sun, Moon, Earth, and laws, and their offspring.
Inzalo Ye Langa, also known as Adam’s Calendar, is an ancient stone circle located in Mpumalanga, South Africa. It is revered by many as a sacred site and an ancient solar calendar, often cited as one of the oldest human-made stone structures in the world.
There are different stories surrounding the cosmology and heritage of these stone circles, including the ways in which they have been identified and named. One of these stories is the naming of the site as “Adam’s Calendar.”
Adam? The “first man,” the first son — or perhaps one of the patriarchal fairy tales that have shaped how we understand the feminine Earth experience and the human relationship with creation.
What happens when we rename a place? What happens when we replace one story with another?
What is often perceived as “modern technology,” such as AI or computers, may also be understood as an altered reflection of ancient, nature-based technologies found at sacred sites. From this perspective, Inzalo Ye Langa and the Bakone stone kraals and churches can be understood as energetic grid technologies — ancient stone sites operating like power-storing grids or batteries.
I describe these sites as systems that can observe, recall, and harvest energy from the Earth and cosmos, using sound, rock resonance, and precise alignments. At the Bakone fertility circles in Machadodorp, South Africa, these relationships between stone, sound, land, and celestial movement offer another way of thinking about preservation, knowledge, and innovation.
Sacred Sites Under Pressure
Some sacred and heritage sites in South Africa face ongoing challenges following their registration and institutionalization. Unmonitored access can disregard Indigenous bioprotocols, spiritual permissions, and knowledge passed down through generations.
There have also been conflicts involving spiritual groups, land access, and the ways sites are managed or “colonized” through tourism and external interests.
Researchers and traditional custodians have expressed concerns that modern activities, including unmanaged tourism, aerial photography, and drones, can become forms of surveillance or disturbance — polluting the energetic and sacred nature of these places rather than respecting their intended spiritual use.
In this sense, the site persists as a living monument, while also becoming part of a broader struggle to reclaim African heritage from institutional and colonial influence.
Stonehenge is one of the world’s most widely known geo-heritage stone calendars. Inzalo Ye Langa, however, is believed by some to be even older.
The African New Year falls around the first day of the spring equinox, when the Southern Hemisphere experiences equal amounts of day and night. The stone calendar marks this movement as the Sun passes through the gap between two dolomite rocks between September 21 and 23 each year.
Here sits a rigid amalgamation of minerals, moulded and transformed through atoms, gas, heat, water, and Earth — centuries upon centuries of unpredictable happenings that have produced the solid forms of constantly calcifying buildings and ecosystems.
The stones hold the turning of Earth and sky: a symbol of the human capacity to give birth to the Sun on Earth’s surface.
Darkness is something we may need to learn to inhabit again.
In darkness, the eternal spirit can shine. It can illuminate the soul and reconnect our inner existence with the world around us.
Inzalo Ye Langa is not simply an archaeological remnant. It can be understood as a sacred site of healing, spiritual practice, ancestral memory, and connection with the cosmos.
But what happens when we rename, reinterpret, or separate these places from the knowledge systems that created and cared for them?
The name “Adam’s Calendar” itself raises questions: whose stories are we using to understand these stones? And what happens to the feminine and African cosmologies that existed before those stories?
For me, these sites are not simply archaeological remains. They can be understood as ancient technologies — living systems connected to the Earth, the cosmos, sound, resonance, seasons, and memory.
Inzalo Ye Langa and other stone sites are energetic grids that hold and transmit knowledge in ways that modern technologies may only be beginning to understand.
Perhaps the stones are not silent after all.
Perhaps they are still recording, remembering, and teaching.
And perhaps the question is not only how we preserve these places, but how we learn to listen to them again.
by Khethiwe Mndawe
edited by Albert and Salo
For more information, kindly visit and hear the following podcast: https://youtu.be/tUAUKn5i1xg?si=ND4Fa6KXBSdsVA10
Khethiwe “ForestQueen” Mndawe is an Indigenous Knowledge Systems practitioner, heritage and development journalist, researcher, and sacred-site guide from Mpumalanga, South Africa. She is a friend and participant of the Ecoversities Alliance and founder of the SADC Sacred Sites Association, working to document and protect sacred sites, Indigenous knowledge, ancestral heritage, and the relationships between communities and the natural world. Through storytelling, research, arts, and community-based practices, she contributes to Ecoversities’ vision of re-imagining education by bringing forward Indigenous and grassroots knowledge for learning, healing, and future generations.
Contact: https://forestqueensacred.co.za/ | IG: @forestqueensacred
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