Fetichism in West Africa Part 16

The process of making a love charm by a man is more elaborate. The ingredients are more numerous and require more time in their collection.

Having fixed his desire on some woman, he decides in his heart, "I am going to marry such and such a woman in such and such a village!" But he keeps his intention entirely secret. He proceeds to make the male charm called "Ebabi." (I do not know the origin of this word; it looks as if it belonged to the adjective "bobabu" = soft, which is a derivative of the verb "babaka," to yield, to consent, to soften.) The first ingredient is coconut oil, which is poured into a flask made of a small gourd or calabash. Then, going to the forest, he gathers leaves of the bongam tree.

Another day he will go again to the forest, and find leaves of the bokadi tree. Then he plucks some hairs from his arm-pits, and puts them and the bruised leaves, with some of his own urine, into the flask. This flask he then suspends from his kitchen roof above the itaka frame or hanging-shelf that in almost all kitchens is placed above the fire-hearth. It remains there in the smoke for ten days. Then taking it down, he inserts into it, tip downward, a long tail-feather of a large bird called "koka." He is ready then for his experiment. Any day that he chooses to go to seek the woman, he first draws out the feather, with whatever of the mixture clings to it, and wipes it on his hands. His hands he then rubs over his face rapidly and vigorously, saying, "So will I do to that woman!" He must immediately then start on his journey. This act of anointing his hands and face must have been his very last act before starting. And there are several prohibitions. He must have thought beforehand of all things needed to be done or handled, for after the anointing he must not touch any other thing. In taking the gourd-flask from above the hanging-shelf he must not touch the shelf. He must not rub or scratch his head. He must not handle a broom. He must not shake hands with any one on the path to the woman's village. All these prohibitions are in order that the anointed mixture may not be rubbed off, or its effect counteracted by contact with anything else. When he reaches the woman's village, he goes directly to her, and clasping her on the shoulder, he rubs his hands downward on her arm, saying, "You! you woman! I love you!" Instantly the medicine is operative, and she is willing to go with him.

If it is only a love affair, she goes secretly. If he offers her marriage, there is first the amicable settlement by the council that is then held by the woman's family as to the amount of the dowry to be paid for her.

Presents having been given to her by him, the woman goes with the man without further objection. On reaching his house, he points out to her the gourd-flask hanging in the kitchen, and tells her, "Let that thing alone."

But he does not inform her what it is; nor does she know or suspect that it is anything more than an ordinary fetich. Nor does any one else know; for no one had been allowed to see him perform any part of the several processes of the ritual in compounding the charm.

_For Fis.h.i.+ng._ The prescription for making the fetich for success in fis.h.i.+ng is as follows: Go in the morning early, while the rest of the villagers are asleep, to an adjacent marsh or pond. (Almost all African villages are built on or near the bank of some stream or lake.) Find a place where pond-lilies are growing. Wade into the pond, bend low in the water, and pluck three lily-pads. There are water-spiders, called "mbwa-ja-miba" (dogs of the water), generally running over the surface of the water at such places; catch four of them. Gather also leaves of another water-plant called "ngama." All these articles leave in the village in a safe place. When other fishers come in from the sea, go to the beach to meet them; and if they have among their catch a certain fish called "hume," having three spines, beg or buy it. This you are to dry over the fire. Watch the daily fis.h.i.+ng until some one has killed a shark; obtain its heart, which also is to be dried. Take also a plate full of gourd seeds (nganda) and some ground-nuts (mbenda); also five "fingers" of unripe plantains cut from the living bunch on the stalk, and a tumblerful of palm-oil. All these above-named ingredients are to be mixed in one pot (which must be earthen) and are to be cooked in it. While the mess is boiling, sit by, face over the pot, in the steam rising from it, and speak into the pot, "Let me catch fish every day! every day!" No people are to be present, or to see any of these proceedings. Take the pot off the fire, not with your hands, but by your feet, and set it on the ground. Take all your fish-hooks, and hold them in the steam arising from the pot. Take a banana leaf that is perfect and not torn by wind, and laying it on the ground, spread out the hooks on it. Then eat the stewed mess, not with a real spoon, but with a leaf twisted as a spoon. In eating, the inedible portions, such as fish-bones, skins, rind, and so forth, are not to be ejected from the mouth on the ground, but must be removed by the fingers and carefully laid on the banana leaf. Having finished eating, call one of the village dogs, as if it was to be given liberty to eat the remains of the mess. As the dog begins to eat, strike it sharply, and as the animal runs away howling, say, "So! may I strike fis.h.!.+" Then kick the pot over.

Take the refuse of food from the banana leaf, and the hooks, and lay them at the foot of the plantain stalk from which the five "fingers" were cut.

Leave the pot lying as it was until night. Then, unseen, take it out into the village street, and violently dash it to pieces on the ground, saying, "So! may I kill fis.h.!.+" It is expected that the villagers shall not hear the sound of the breaking of the vessel; for it must be done only when they are believed to be asleep. When the bunch of plantains from which those fingers were taken ripens, and is finally cut down for food by others, you are forbidden to eat not only of it, but of the fruit of any of its shoots that in regular succession, year after year (according to the manner of bananas and plantains), take the place of the predecessor stalk. You may never eat of their fruit.

_For Planting._ Planting is done almost entirely by women. If a woman says to herself, "I want to have plenty of food! I will make medicine for it!"

she proceeds to gather the necessary ingredients. She takes her ukwala (machete), pavo (knife), short hoe (like a trowel), and elinga (basket), and goes to the forest. She must go very early in the morning, and alone.

She gathers a leaf called "tube," another called "injenji," the bark of a tree called "bohamba," the bark also of elamba, and leaves of bokuda.

Hiding them in a safe place, she goes back to her village to get her earthen pot. Returning with it to the forest, she makes a fire, not with coals from the village, but with new, clean fire made by the two fire-sticks. These, used by natives before steel and flint were introduced, require often an hour's twirling before friction develops sufficient heat to cause a spark. The sparks are caught on thoroughly dried plantain fibre. Then she builds her fire. She goes to some spring or stream for water to put in the pot with the leaves and barks, and sets it on the fire. All this while she is not to be seen by other people. When the water has boiled, she sets the pot in the middle of the acre of ground which she intends to clear for her garden until its contents cool. In the meanwhile she goes to some creek and gets "chalk" (a white clay is found in places in the beds of streams). She washes it clean of mud and rubs it on her breast. Then she takes the pot, and empties its decoction by sprinkling it, with a bunch of leaves, over the ground, saying, "My forefathers! now in the land of spirits, give me food! Let me have food more abundantly than all other people!" Then she again sets the pot in the middle of the proposed plantation. She takes from it the tube leaves and puts them into four little cornucopias (ehongo), which she rolls from another large leaf of the elende tree. She sets these in the four corners of the garden. Whenever she comes on any other day to work in the garden, she pulls a succulent plant, squeezes its juice into the ehongo; and this juice she drops into her eye. To be efficient, this medicine has a prohibition connected with it, viz., that during the days of her menses she shall not go to the garden.

When her plants have grown, and she has eaten of them, she must break the pot. Having done so, she makes a large fire at an end of the garden, and burns the pieces of earthenware so that they shall be utterly calcined. It is not required that she shall stay by the fire awaiting that result. She may, if she wishes, in the meanwhile go back to her village. She takes the ashes of the pot, mixes them with chalk in a jomba (bundle) of leaves, which she ties to a tree of her garden in a hidden spot where people will not see it.

Another strict prohibition is required of her by the medicine, _viz._, that she is not to steal from another woman's garden. If she break this law, her own garden will not produce. The jomba is kept for years, or as long as she plants at that place, and the chalk mixture is rubbed on her breast at each planting season. From time to time also, as the leaves of the jomba decay or break away, she puts fresh ones about it, to prevent the wetting of its contents by raid or its injury in any other way.

CHAPTER XIII

THE FETICH--SUPERSt.i.tION IN CUSTOMS

The observances of fetich wors.h.i.+p fade off into the customs and habits of life by gradations, so that in some of the superst.i.tious beliefs, while there may be no formal handling of a fetich amulet containing a spirit, nor actual prayer or sacrifice, nevertheless spiritism is in the thought, and more or less consciously held.

In our civilization there are thousands of professedly Christian people who are superst.i.tious in such things as fear of Friday, No. 13, spilled salt, etc. In my childhood, at Easton, Pa., I was sent on an errand to a German farmhouse. The kind-hearted Frau was weeding her strawberry bed in the spring garden-making, and was throwing over the fence into the public road superfluous runners. I asked permission to pick them up to plant in my own little garden. She kindly a.s.sented, and I thanked her for them, whereupon she exclaimed, "Ach! nein! nein! Das ist no goot! You say, 'Dank you'; now it no can grow any more!" I was too young to inquire into the philosophy of the matter. Surely she would not forbid grat.i.tude. I think the gist of what she thought my error was, that I had thanked her for what she considered a worthless thing and had thrown away. I do not think she would have objected to thanks for anything she valued sufficiently to offer as a gift.

The difference between my old Pennsylvania-Dutch lady and my "Number 13"

acquaintances, and my African Negro friend is that to the former, while they are somewhat influenced by their superst.i.tion, it is not their G.o.d.

To the latter it is the practical and logical application of his religion.

Theirs is a pitiable weakness; his a trusted belief.

It would be impossible to enumerate all the thousands of practices dominated by the superst.i.tious beliefs of the Bantu,--practices which sometimes erect themselves into customs and finally obtain almost the force of law. Many of these are prevalent all over Africa; others are local.

RULES OF PREGNANCY.

Everywhere are rules of pregnancy which bind both the woman and her husband. During pregnancy neither of them is permitted to eat the flesh of any animal which was itself pregnant at the time of its slaughter. Even of the flesh of a non-pregnant animal there are certain parts--the heart, liver, and entrails--which may not be eaten by them. It is claimed that to eat of such food at such a time would make a great deal of trouble for the unborn infant. During his wife's pregnancy a man may not cut the throat of any animal nor a.s.sist in the butchering of it. A carpenter whose wife is pregnant must not drive a nail. To do so would close the womb and cause a difficult labor. He may do all other work belonging to carpentering, but he must have an a.s.sistant to drive the nails.

In my early years on Corisco Island, and while I was expecting to become a father, I was one day superintending the butchering of a sheep. It was not necessary that I should actually use the knife; that was done by the cook; but I stood by to see that the work was done in a cleanly manner, and that in the flaying the skin should be rolled constantly away, so that the hair should not touch the flesh. In the dissection I a.s.sisted, so that the flesh should not be defiled by a carelessly wounded entrail. My servant was amazed, and said my child would be injured. He was still more shocked when Mrs. Na.s.sau herself came to urge haste and to secure the liver for dinner.

Among the station employees on Corisco in 1864 was an ex-slave, a recent convert, whose freedom had been purchased by one of the missionaries. The native non-Christian freemen begrudged him his position as a mission employee; for his wages were now his own, and could no longer be claimed by his former master. Some of his fellow-servants, freemen, put off on him, as much as they could, the more menial tasks. It was inc.u.mbent, therefore, on the missionaries to see that he was not oppressed by his fellows. Clearing of the graveyard was a task no one liked to have a.s.signed to him; and it was often thrown on poor Evosa. One day a newly arrived missionary, the Rev. George Paull, the n.o.blest of my a.s.sociates these forty years, who just then knew little of the language or of native thought or custom, ordered Evosa to take his hoe and clean the cemetery path. Evosa bluntly said, "Mba haye!" (I won't). "You won't! You refuse to obey me?" "Mba haye!" "Then I dismiss you." Evosa went away, much cast down. Some of his fellow-Christians came to me saying they were sorry for him, and asked me to interfere. "But," I said, "he should obey; the work is not hard." "Oh! but he can't do it!" "Why not?" "Because his wife is pregnant." Immediately I understood. Evosa may not have believed in the superst.i.tion, but for all that, if he did the work and subsequently there should be anything untoward in his wife's confinement, her relatives would exact a heavy fine of him. We had not required our converts to disregard these prohibitions, if only they did not actually engage in any act of fetich wors.h.i.+p. I was careful to say nothing to the natives that would undermine my missionary brother's authority; but privately I intimated to Mr. Paull that I thought that if he had been fully aware of the state of the case, he would not have dismissed the man. He was just, and reversed the dismissal. Evosa was pardoned also for the bluntness of his refusal; it was a part of his slavish ignorance. In conclusion, I warned him that he should have explained to Mr. Paull the ground of his refusal, and should have asked for other work. He had not supposed that the white man did not know; and the asking of excuse is a part of politeness that has to be taught. Almost every new missionary makes unwise or unjust orders and decisions before he learns on what superst.i.tious grounds he is treading.

Not all are willing to be rectified as was my n.o.ble brother Paull.

In the burial of a first-born infant the lid of the coffin is not only not allowed to be nailed down, but it must not entirely cover the corpse; a s.p.a.ce must be left open (generally above the child's head); the superst.i.tion being that if the coffin be closed, the mother will bear no more children.

OMENS ON JOURNEYS.

Almost every traveller in Africa, in publis.h.i.+ng his story, has much to say about the difficulties in getting his caravan of porters started on their daily journey. His detailed account of slowness, disobedience, and desertions is as monotonous to the reader as they were distressing to himself. Did he but know it, the fault was often largely his own. The man of haste and exact.i.tude, that has grown up on railroad time-tables, demands the impossible of aborigines who never have needed to learn the value of time. Anglo-Saxon, Teutonic, and even Latin diligence expects too much of the happy-go-lucky African. The traveller fumes, and frets, and works himself into a fever. He would gain more in the end if he would _festina lente_. He would save himself many a quarrel or case of discipline (for which he earns the reputation of being a hard master; and for which, further on in the journey, he may be shot by one of his outraged servants) if he only knew that superst.i.tion had met his servant, as the angel "with his sword drawn" met Balaam's a.s.s, "in a narrow place"; and that servant could no more have dared to go on in the way than could that wise a.s.s who knew and saw what his angry master did not know.

Mr. R. E. Dennett, for many years a resident in Loango among the Bavili people, and author of "Seven Years among the Fjort," recognizes this in "A Few Signs and Omens," contributed recently to a Liverpool weekly journal, "West Africa." What he says of the Fyat (Fiot) tribes is largely true of all the other West African tribes. "They have a number of things to take into consideration, when setting out upon a journey, which may account for many of those otherwise inexplicable delays which so annoy the white man at times when anxious to start 'one time' for some place or other.

"The first thing a white man should do is to see that the Negro's fetiches are all in order; then, when on the way, he must manage things so that the first person the caravan shall meet shall be a woman; for that is a good sign, while to meet a man means that something evil is going to happen.

Then, to meet the bird Kna that is all black is a bad sign; while the Kna that has its wings tipped with white is a good sign.

"The rat Benda running across your path from left to right is good; from right to left fairly good; should it appear from the left and run ahead in the direction you are going, 'Oh! that is very good!' but should it run towards you, well, then the best thing for you to do is to go back; for you are sure to meet with bad luck!

"See that your men start with their left foot first, and that they are 'high-steppers'; for if their left foot meet with an obstacle, and is not badly hurt, it is not a bad sign; but if their right foot knocks against anything, you must go back to town.

"See that you do not meet that nasty brown bird called Mvia, that is always crying out, 'Via, via'; for that means 'witch-palaver,' and strikes consternation into your people. n.o.body likes to be reminded of his sins or witch deeds, and be condemned to be burnt in the fire; and that is what 'via' means.

"Then there is that moderately large bird with wings tipped with white called 'Nxeci,' also reminding one of 'witch-palaver,' and continuously crying out, 'Ke-e-e,' or 'No.' You had far better not start.

"Take care also to shoot the cukoo o Nkuku before it crosses your path; for if you allow it to pa.s.s, you had better return; it is a bad omen.

"Then, concerning owls: see that your camp at night is not disturbed by the cry of the Kulu (spirit of the departed), that warns you that one of you is going to die; or that of the Xi-futu-nkubu, which means that you may expect some evil shortly. On the other hand, let the Mampaulo-paulo hoot as much as it likes; for that is a good sign.

"Then look out that the snake Nduma does not cross your path; for that is a sign of death, or else of warning to you that you should return and see to the fetich obligations the iron bracelet Ngofu reminds you of. Examine your men, and ask those who wear the bracelet the following questions: Have you eaten the flesh of anything (save birds) on the same day that it was killed? Have you pointed your knife at any one? Did you know your wife on the Day of Rest (Nsana, Sunday)? Have you looked upon a woman during a certain period of the month? Have you eaten those long 'chilli' peppers instead of confining yourself to the smaller kinds?

"You must send those who have not the bracelet, together with those who have not been true to ngofu, back to town, to set this 'palaver' right.

Take great care of your fowls, and see that you have no ill-regulated c.o.c.k to crow between 6 P. M. and 3 A. M., as that means that there is a palaver in town to which your men are called, so that it may be settled at once.

"Then, there is that large bird Knakna, whose cry warns your men that there is something wrong with the fetich Mabili ('the east wind,' on the gateway at the east entrance to each town), and this knowledge will hang as a dead weight on all their energies until they have just run back to town to see what the matter may be.

"Get your men to sleep early, lest they should see the 'falling stars'; for it means that one of their princes is about to die, and that is disquieting. Then don't let it thunder out of season; for that portends the death of an important prince.

"And if you determine to go out fis.h.i.+ng, and meet the rat Benda (as above noted), go or not, as the signs command you. If you meet the bird Mbixi that sings 'luelo-elo-elo,' go on your way rejoicing; or when the little bird Nxexi, true to nature, sings 'xixexi,' all is well; but when it sings, 'tietie,' go back, for you will catch nothing.

"Then there is the wild dog Mbulu; well, that must not cross your path at starting. You laugh? Well, so did Nyambi, the brother of my headman, Bayona; and what happened? Nyambi had come down from the interior with his master; and after a short stay was ordered back to his trading post, his master saying that he would follow him shortly. A friend handed him a son of his for him to educate, and to attend upon him; in fact, to be his 'boy.' Everything being ready, he set out from Loango; and the first thing they met on the road was the wild dog. Now Nyambi was a plucky Bantu and took no notice of this warning, but continued on his way. On reaching the forest country in Mayomba, the boy entrusted to him ran away. Nyambi, true to his trust, came after him back to his town, to see that the boy was once more placed in the care of his father, and so to avoid any further complications. Then he once more started on his way, and, nearing the forest country again, was bitten severely on the foot by a snake. He tied a rag around his leg just under the knee, and another just above his ankle, and squeezed as much blood as he could from the wound itself. Then he hobbled into the nearest town, and waited there for a.s.sistance from his family, to whom he had at once despatched a messenger. They sent men and women to bring him back to Loango, where he arrived in a very weak condition, and with a fearful sore on his foot,--an awful warning to all those who will not take the omens sent to them in earnest! What! you still laugh? Well, there is no hope for you; you are too persistent, and have not read the story of the rabbit and the antelope, and of the trap laid for the former.[67] And if you keep on laughing at these superst.i.tions of the natives, don't blame any one if they call you a 'rabbit,' and refuse to follow you in your wanderings through their land. Most haste is very often worst speed in Africa; and the white man who ignores all but physical difficulties does well to stay his impatient hand when about to strike his most provoking and apparently dilatory black carrier, who is beset by endless moral obstacles r.e.t.a.r.ding his progress as no physical difficulties can."

When I was beginning my pioneering of the Ogowe River in September-November, 1874, I had with me one Christian coast native. I completed my canoe's crew with four heathen Galwa, placed myself under the patronage of the Akele chief Kasa, resided in his village, and bought from him a site, Belambila, for my mission station, about a mile distant from him. Daily I went with my crew in the canoe to work at the building of a temporary house on the Belambila premises. One day a water-snake crossed the canoe's bow, and I struck at it. The Christian looked serious, and the four heathen laid down their paddles. It was sufficiently disastrous that the snake had crossed our path; I had made matters worse by attempting to injure it. They said, "You should not have done that." "Why?" "Because somewhere and sometime it will follow us and will bite us. Let us go back to Kasa's." I refused, and insisted on our proceeding with the day's work.

I might better have yielded to their request. It was as if I were under an Ancient Mariner's curse. My snake was as bad as his albatross. My men either could not or would not. Everything went wrong. They worked without heart and under dread. What they built that day was done with so many mistakes that I had to tear it down. I did not fully appreciate at that time, but I do not now think that they were intentionally disobedient or recalcitrant. Just as well compel a crew of ignorant sailors to start their voyage on a Friday. The fear of ominous birds and other animals is over all Africa. In Garenganze, according to Arnot, "many have a superst.i.tious dread of the horned night-owl. Its cry is considered an evil omen, which can only be counteracted effectually by possessing a whistle made out of the windpipe of the same kind of bird.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TRAVELING BY CANOE.--OGOWE RIVER.]

"Jackals, wild dogs, also are very much disliked. The weird cry of one of these animals will arouse the people of a whole village, who will rush out and call upon the spirit-possessed animal to be quiet and leave them, or to come into the village, and they will feed and satisfy it.

"When travelling, they are careful to notice the direction this animal may take. Should its cry come from the direction in which they are going, they will not venture a step farther until certain divinations have been performed that they may learn the nature of the calamity about to befall them."[68]

The chameleon is an object of dread to all natives wherever I have lived.