On one of my last evenings in Makwatata, more than 40 women of all ages from the village gathered together to show me what happens during an initiation ceremony, the rite of passage performed for every Ngoni girl when she becomes a woman.

Vanis Sakala, a grandmother who has attended countless initiation ceremonies in Makwatata, tells me that the point of the ceremony is to “teach her how to dance with her husband during sexual acts, and how to be a good wife.” She is incredulous when I tell her there is no similar ritual for girls in Ireland. “Nobody teaches you?” she asks, stunned. A demonstration is organised for me immediately.

Traditionally in Ngoni culture, when a girl has her first period, she must tell her grandmother or aunt. The elder woman then shares the news with the rest of the community, and the women are called upon to perform the initiation ceremony.

The young girl is placed in an isolation hut for the duration of the initiation, which can take up to one month. During this time, she is given mukuvya ndola, nkhanda nchembere and kubwula, a mixture of herbs to make her strong. The herbs are taken straight as medicine, or cooked with chicken or mixed with tobwa, a sweet drink made from fermented maize.

At night, the women crowd into the girl’s hut to teach her about womanhood. An elaborate “cleansing” ritual takes place where the girl is symbolically “washed down” by an elder woman. She is told how to look after herself physically, how to behave with men, and how to be a good wife to her future husband. The most important thing she learns, however, is how to have sex, which is demonstrated through dance.

Younger boys clamber at the door to sneak a peek in, and the women shoo them away. I am told that this is all part of the ritual.

As the group sing and drum, each woman, no matter what her age, takes a turn a performing the “sexual dance” by the dim light of a candle. The performer wears a folded chitenge (a coloured cloth which is usually worn as a skirt) around her waist. Her upper body remains quite still as her hips gyrate rapidly to the beat of the music. It is almost like a competition, and the more graphically the woman wiggles her hips, the louder the whoops she receives from the onlookers.

On the final night of the initiation ceremony, when all the other women have performed, the girl presents herself in front of the group to demonstrate what she has learned.

As my own demonstration “initiation” comes to a close, the chitenge is wrapped around my waist and I am ushered up to perform. The room shakes with laughter. I’m not sure if they are laughing with me or at my complete inability to shake my thing like they can, but despite my mortification it feels incredible to be at the centre of such a powerful expression of feminine energy.

I, unlike the initiates in real ceremonies, can return to my own hut to sleep that night. I am trying my best not to be judgemental, and although I am moved by the emotion shared by the group of women during the initiation, I can’t help but think that it’s all a little too much to take in for a girl who has only just reached puberty.

In an area where sex before marriage is technically frowned upon, where active measures are being taken to encourage girls to stay in school rather than marry early, and the spread of HIV is exacerbated by increased promiscuity and the sexual exploitation of women of all ages, is the initiation ceremony still serving a good purpose by teaching girls as young as 12 how to have sex?

“This is precisely the problem,” says Nkosikasi, Senior Chief Nzamane’s wife, when I put my thoughts to her the following day. “Of course, when the initiation is finished, she wants to try out what she has learned, and it is common to hear of the girl becoming pregnant within a few months. The men in the village will all know that she has been initiated, which is almost like an advertisement for them to approach her.”

In an attempt to discourage the “harmful traditional practice” of early marriage and teenage pregnancy, Chief Nzamane has ordered that initiation ceremonies in his chiefdom be delayed until a girl has finished her education, or at least reached 18 years of age. In 2009, with the help of US Aid, the Chief trained 25 women from Chilobwe village to become ambassadors for women’s rights in Mfumbeni, and they in turn travelled around all 325 villages in the chiefdom to spread the word about the social and health problems associated with early initiation.

“Girls are reaching puberty earlier than they used to,” says Nkosikasi. “Years ago, a girl would begin menstruating at 16, and it was normal for her to marry around that age, so the initiation ceremony was appropriate. But now, it can happen as early as 12 or 13. This is too young to learn about sex and marriage. We want the girls to finish their education before they get married or get pregnant. This is why we brought in the new law. Also, taking a girl out of school for a month to be initiated is unacceptable.”

Anyone found to be breaking the law will be brought before the Mfumbeni Traditional Council, but so far, there have been no breaches, and Nkosikasi believes that their efforts have been successful. “Chiefs in other areas are now thinking about introducing similar laws in their chiefdoms. It will take time to see if it will have an effect on the number of young girls getting pregnant. But I am hopeful,” she says.