Everything you need to know about drinking chibuku
Shared from 2-litre containers called ‘scuds’, this sorghum-based beer is the number one social lubricant across southern Africa.
Chibuku is a sorghum-based beer based on the traditional Umqombothi home-made beer the people of southern Africa have been knocking back since time immemorial.
Mashed by hand and brewed in earthenware pots over woodfires, no religious ceremony or social gathering was complete without it.
These days, commercially-brewed chibuku comes in two sizes: one-litre cardboard cartons (like milk), or the more affordable two-litre ‘scuds’ (brown plastic bottles with a blue screw top).
I took my first swig of chibuku in Chinotimba Township, a small village on the outskirts of Victoria Falls. I was on my way to a rally being held by President Mugabe at the local football stadium. David, a local raft tour tout I’d met back in town, invited me to stop by his shack for a few brews.
For a first-timer, chibuku’s milky appearance can be off-putting. So too, the thick sediment that tumbles into your glass as it is poured.
Chibuku comes in either a wax-coated milk carton or a recyclable plastic ‘scud’. If your host pulls out a ‘scud’ strap in – you’re in for a big night.
The sediment is the starch, germ and yeast that gets filtered out of normal ales and lager.
David assured me that it was what made chibuku so good – a meal, not just a drink.
It’s also why locals call it ‘shake-shake’ – after the ritual of shaking up the beer before taking the first sip.
So what does chibuku taste like? A little bit malty, a little bit lemony, with a tangy after taste and a vague effervescence that tickles the tongue. The local advertising slogan implores the drinker to ‘taste the goodness.’ I’m not sure that I could.
Chibuku’s biggest selling point is that it is cheap. A milk carton of the stuff will set you back 75 cents, a 2-litre ‘scud’ just under a buck.
Named after the crude missiles Saddam Hussein lobbed towards Israel during the First Gulf War, the stocky brown plastic scuds are a similarly crude and effective delivery system.
Chibuku gets more potent the closer it gets to its use-by date.
Not a big drinker? Here’s a little trick to help you keep up with your African hosts. Chibuku gets more potent the closer it gets to its use-by date, typically about 4.5%. But when it first hits the shelf it’s a measly 0.5%.
Stick to the fresh stuff and then it’s bho-o ne Chibuku
That’s Shona for ‘Everything’s OK with Chibuku’.
Main image: Chibuku, straight from the ‘scud’ (© Peter Moore)
Justine Wilhelmina Pitcher
3 years agoI’m from Zambia and living in Wellington New Zealand. I’m going to make some Chibuku for my Kiwi friends
The Editor
3 years agoFantastic! Please let us know what they think of it. It’s a bit of an acquired taste!
Alan
2 years agoInteresting. A friend told me that it tastes like sick. Leaving aside the reason you attended a rally for Robert (Robbers and Muggers) Mugabe, I salute your bravery. Change Maitiro!
The Editor
2 years agoYeah, it’s not a pleasant taste. But whatever gets the job done, eh?
Re: Dropping in on Mugabe’s rally. Brave or stupid? Still, I had enough sense to get the hell out of there once one of his goons spotted me.
Me again
2 years agoDon’t you mean a cruise missile?
Love Zimbabwe – such happy memories of doing VSO there in the 90s.
The Editor
2 years agoHa! A cruise missile is probably a little too sophisticated. The scuds used by Iraq during the war there were crude but effective. Which pretty much describes chibuka and probably why the locals use the moniker!
Mo
1 year agoI went to high school in Zim 1980-’84. I’m pretty sure those big mugs were called scuds then. That was way before the 1st Gulf War.
The Editor
1 year agoHa! Maybe it’s the other way around then. The missiles were named after the beer 🙂
nobbly njolomba
2 years agoIt’s a great 🍺 beer
bothwell
6 months agoAs a first timer the first few sips are hard to chug but after a few cups you will start enjoying