Category Archives: Intellectual, Religious, or Cultural Tradition

Sango: The God of Thunder and Lightning, and his wife Oya

Sango was the fourth King of the Yorubas…Sango reigned for seven years, the whole of which period was marked by his restlessness. He fought many battles and was fond of making charms. He was said to have the knowledge of some preparation by which he could attract lightning. The palace at Oyo was built at the foot of a hill called Ajaka’s hill. One day the King ascended this hill accompanied… by his courtiers and some of his slaves, among whom were two favourites, Biri and Omìran; some of his cousins went with him, but none of his children. He was minded to try the preparation he had in hand; thinking it might have been damp and useless, he first made the experiment on his own house. But it took effect, a storm was immediately raised and the lightning had struck the palace before they came down the hill, and the buildings were on fire. Many of Sango’s wives and his children perished in this catastrophe.

Sango who was the author of his own misfortunes became alarmed and dismayed at what had happened and from a broken heart he was resolved to abdicate the throne and retire to the court of his maternal grandfather, Elempe king of the Nupes.

All Oyo was now astir, not only to sympathize with the King, but also to dissuade him from carrying out his resolution; but he could not bear any opposition, and so mad was he, that he even used his sword against some of his loyal subjects who ventured to remonstrate with him, and who promised to replace for him his dead wives by others, by whom he might beget children, and so in time make good his present losses.

According to other accounts, he did not abdicate of his own freewill, but was asked to do so by a strong party in the state. Both accounts may be true, there may have been two parties, for to this day, Yorubas have an abhorence of a King given to making deadly charm; because for one who already has absolute power invested in him by law, this strange power can only be used spitefully, so that no one near him would be safe.

He was said to have caused 160 persons to be slain in a fit of anger, of those who were showing much concern and over-anxiety on his behalf, and who would prevent him by force from carrying out his resolve.

Thus determined he set out on his fateful journey with a few followers. Biri his head slave and favourite was the first to regret the step taken, and to urge on his master to yield to the entreaties of those citizens of Oyo, who with all loyalty promised to replace his losses, as far as man can do it, and to rebuild the palace; but finding the King inexorable, he forsook him and returned to the city with all his followers; Omiran likewise followed his example, and the King was thus left alone. He now repented his rashness, especially when he found himself deserted by his favourite Biri. He could not proceed alone, and for shame he could not return home, and so he was resolved to put an end to his own life; and climbing on a shea butter tree, he hanged himself.

His friends hearing of this tragedy went immediately and performed for him the last act of kindness, by burying his remains under the same tree.

On hearing of the King’s death, his personal friends followed his example, and died with him. Biri committed suicide at Koso (where the King died), Omiran did the same. His cousin Omo Sándá committed suicide at Papo, Babayanmi at Sele, Obei at Jakuta and Oya his favourite wife at Irá.

Thus ended the life of this remarkable personage, who once ruled over all the Yorubas and Popos. He was afterwards deified, and is still worshipped by all of all Yoruba race as the god of thunder and lighting.

The King’s Natural and Official Mothers

The Orun festival takes place in September… the rite seems to deal with affairs connected with the King’s life. It is to him a periodic reminder of his coming apotheosis, and the emblem of worship is said to be a coffin made of or paved with clay in which he is to be buried. It is kept in charge of the “Iya Oba” (the King’s official mother) in a room in her apartments, visited by no one, and the ceremonies are performed in private once a year by the King himself, his “mother” and his Osorun, the latter taking the chief part…

the Basorun is to divine with kola nuts, to see whether the King’s sacrifices are acceptable to the celestials or not, if the omen be favourable the Alafin is to give the Basorun presents of a horse and other valuables; if unfavourable, he is to die, he has forfeited his right to further existence. But there can be no doubt that under such circumstances, it can always be managed between them that the omens be always favourable.

From this and other circumstances, it would appear that the King on this occasion occupies a humiliating position as one whose conduct is under review, hence the great privacy observed, for it is a cardinal principle with Yorubas that the Alafin, as the representative of the founder of the race, is to humble himself before no mortal; if such a contingency were to occur, he is to die.

Hence, no doubt, that his natural mother (if then living) is to make way for her son ascending the throne, so there will be no occasion to violate any filial duty imperative on a son who is at the same time the King. His majesty must be supreme.

…The Iya Oba is the King’s (official) mother… the King is not to have a natural mother. If his mother happens to be living when he is called to the throne, she is asked to “go to sleep,” and is decently buried in the house of a relative in the city. All the inmates of that house are accorded special privileges and enjoy marked deference as “members of the household of the King’s mother.”

The King sends to worship at her grave once a year. One of the ladies of the palace is then created Iya-Oba, and she is supposed to act the part of a mother to him. It is her privilege to be the third person in the room where the King and the Basorun worship the Orun in the month of September every year.

Children Born to Die

There are some peculiar names given to a certain class of children called “Abiku” i.e. born to die. These are supposed to belong to a fraternity of demons living in the woods, especially about and within large Iroko trees; and each one of them coming into the world would have arranged beforehand the precise time he will return to his company.

Where a woman has lost several children in infancy, especially after a short period of illness, the deaths are attributed to this cause, and means are adopted to thwart the plans of these infants in order that they may stay; for if they can only tide over the pre-arranged date, they may go no more, and thus entirely forget their company…

…Periodical feasts are usually made for these children of which beans and a liberal quantity of palm oil must form a principal dish. To this children of their age and others are invited, and their company of demons, although unseen are supposed to be present and partake of these viands. This is supposed to appease them and reconcile them to the permanent stay of their comrade, so that they may always have such to feed upon.

This superstition accounts for a rather high rate of infant mortality, for parents are thereby led away from the proper treatment of their ailments, while occupying themselves in making charms to defeat the purpose of imaginary demons!…

… Such children are called “Abiku” (born to die) and are supposed to belong to a company of young demons roaming about. They are believed to be capable of being born as young children, and (except forcibly detained by charms) of returning to their company at will, or at the instance of the members of their company.

Wearing the Death Cloth: The Funeral of the King

The Kings are buried in the Barà. The funeral usually takes place at night. It is notified to the public by the sounding of the Okinkin (a musical instrument like the bugle), the ivory trumpet, and the Koso drum, a drum which is usually beaten every morning at 4 a.m. as a signal for him to rise from his bed; to beat it at night therefore, is to indicate that he is retiring to his final resting place.

The body is removed to the Barà on the back of those whose office it is to bury the Kings the chief of whom is a titled personage known as the Ona-onse-awo, and his lieutenants. At certain stations on the route between the palace and the Barà, eleven in all, they halt and immolate a man and a ram, and also at the Barà itself, four women each at the head and at the feet, two boys on the right and on the left, were usually buried in the same grave with the dead monarch to be his attendants in the other world, and last of all the lamp-bearer in whose presence all the ceremonies are performed.

All these practices, however, have long been abolished, a horse and a bullock being used instead of human beings.

…Additions are made to their number at every fresh burial, usually from among the favorites of the deceased husband. These women must all be celibates for life, unfortunately among the number are usually found some who are virgins and must remain so for life: any misbehaviour is punished with the death of both culprits, the man on the day the crime is detected, and the woman after her confinement.

Besides those who are immolated at the death of the sovereign there used to be some “honorable suicides” consisting of certain members of the royal family, and some of the King’s wives, and others whose title implies that they are to die with the King whenever that event occurs. With the title they received as a badge a cloth known as the “death cloth,” a beautiful silk damask wrapper, which they usually arrayed themselves with on special occasions during the King’s lifetime. Although the significance of this was well-understood both by themselves and by their relatives, yet it is surprising to see how eager some of them used to be to obtain the office with the title and the cloth. They enjoyed great privileges during the King’s lifetime. They can commit any crime with impunity. Criminals condemned to death and escaping to their houses become free. These are never immolated, they are to die honorably and voluntarily.

Of the members of the royal family and others to die were:-­­­­–

1. The Aremo or Crown Prince who practically reigned with his father, enjoyed royal honors, and had equal power of life and death.
2. Three princes with hereditary titles viz., the Magaji Iyajin, the Agunpopo, and the Olusami.
3. Two titled personages not of royal blood viz., the Osi’ wefa and the Olokun-esin (master of the horse) who is generally styled “Ab’obaku,” i.e. one who is to die with the King.
4. The female victims were:—

Iya Oba, the king’s official mother; Iya Naso, Iyalagbon (the Crown Prince’s mother); Iyale Molè (the Ifa priestess), the Olorun-ku-mefun, the Iyamonari, the Iya’-le-ori (these are all priestesses) and the Are-ori-ite the chief favorite.

It will be observed that all the above-mentioned are those who by virtue of their office are nearest to the King at all times, and have the easiest access to his person; to make their life dependent on his, therefore, is to ensure safety for him against the risk of poisoning, or the dagger of the assassin.

The custom is that each should go and die in his (or her) own home, and among his family. The spectacle is very affecting. Dressed in their “death cloth,” they issue from the palace to their homes surrounded by their friends, and their drummers beating funeral dirges, eager crowds of friends and acquaintances flocking around them, pressing near to have a last look at them or to say the final farewell as they march homewards. The house is full of visitors, mourners and others, some in profuse tears; mournful wailings and funeral odes are heard on all sides enough to break the stoutest heart. While the grave is digging, the coffin making, a parting feast is made for all the friends and acquaintances; and as they must die before sunset, they enjoy themselves as best they can for that day by partaking of the choicest and favorite dishes, appearing several times in changes of apparel, distributing presents with a lavish hand around, and making their last will disposing of their effects. When everything is ready, the grave and the coffin approved of, they then take poison, and pass off quietly. But if it fails or is too slow to take effect, and the sun is about to set, the last office is performed by the nearest relatives (by strangling or otherwise) to save themselves and the memory of their kin from indelible disgrace. The body is then decently buried by the relatives and the funeral obsequies performed.

In many cases voluntary suicides take place. Some of the King’s favorite slaves who are not required to die often commit suicide in order to attend their master in the other world expecting to enjoy equally the emoluments of royalty in the other world as in this.

The End of King Adelu and Queen Alayoayo

King Adelu did not attain to the age of his father. His accession was marked by confusion, wars, and rumours of war all over the country for about four years, due chiefly to the Ijaye war and its sequels: but after this peace and tranquility prevailed, except for the Ibadan raids and the subjugation of the Ijesa and Ekiti provinces.

Towards the end of his reign he met with an accident by being thrown off his horse, and as a consequence a prolonged illness ensued. After his convalescence he had an attack of paralysis which was probably due to internal injury sustained by the fall, but it was generally attributed to poison administered by the Crown Prince, who was impatient to come to the thrown; it was also said that his accomplice and agent was the King’s favourite wife Alayoayo. . . .A few days after, the beating of the Koso drum and the blowing of the ivory trumpet at midnight announced to the public the death of their King.

Such an occasion was a time of dire distress in the palace, for apart from those who were bound by their special office to die with the King immolation was more or less indiscriminate in order to furnish the monarch with a large retinue in the other world. Hence every one tried to hide himself or herself in every nook and corner imaginable and in the ceilings of their apartments.

As an instance of the indiscriminate slaughter which occurred on this occasion we may mention the following:—

Kudefu the King’s favourite Ilari and head of all his slaves on the morning of the death before it was officially announced went to know of his master’s condition, and learning he was dead he was going home sad at heart to die of his own accord.

Alega the keeper of the gate seeing him coming from the inner apartments, being inquisitive, approached him to learn of their august master’s condition. Kudefu at once unsheathed his sword saying “You go before, I am coming at your heels to be attendants on our master in the other world” and in one stroke he cut off his head and then coolly went home to die. Several who were too inquisitive lost their lives in this way. In that vast compound those in one corner of it may not know what was taking place in another.

It was also a time of mourning for the relatives of those who have received the “death cloth” knowing that they must have to bury in the evening a relative strong and healthy in the morning and up to the time the fatal cup is taken.

Alayoayo was very reluctant to die, and begged hard that her life should be spared, relying probably on the Crown Prince’s promise to her. But in this she was sadly disappointed; for this reason she stayed much longer in the palace than she was expected

to do, for according to custom she must die at home among her own people. When at last she knew that death was inevitable, she issued from the palace well-dressed in her “death cloth” with her drummer before and her maidens carrying large calabashes full of kola nuts, she trod her way homewards to the measures of the drum scattering kola nuts with a lavish hand right and left to the crowd of spectators thronging her way from the palace gates to her home, to have a last glance at her.

In the meantime a great feast had been made at her home for all friends and relatives to partake with her for the last, during which time the grave was in digging and the coffin made. She distributed her property among her relatives and her only son. When the hour was come she bade all farewell and repaired to her chamber and the fatal cup was placed in her hands. But owing to the preventives she had fortified her system with, the effects were neutralized; this was repeated again and again, with the same result. So towards sunset the disappointed relatives in order to prevent an indelible disgrace to the family had to strangle her, and then gave her a decent funeral. The same may be said more or less of all those who had received the “death cloth.”

The Aremo (Crown Prince) also was told to die, but not only did he refuse point blank to do so but was also determined to ascend the throne. His grandfather had abolished the custom of the Aremo dying with the father, his own father the monarch now deceased was his father’s Aremo and he succeeded him on the throne, and why then should he die?

But these customs are now dying out with the age especially since King Atiba in 1858 abolished that of the Crown Prince dying; the loss of experienced princes like the Iyajin around the throne is also felt irreparable. With the exception of the women, all the men now refuse to die and they are never forced to do so, but are superseded in their office if the next King wills it; they must then retire quietly from the city to reside in any town in the country in order to prevent the confusion of two individuals bearing the same title. As for the Crown Prince, he expects to succeed his father on the throne but if he is rejected by the king-makers, he also has to retire from the city.

Despotic and Rejected Kings: Ayibi

… An inter-regnum of some years followed the last reign, the affairs of the kingdom being left in the hands of the Basorun. The heir to the throne was the late King’s grandson…Ayibi was crowned when he came of age. Unfortunately he proved unworthy of the honour and respect done him; he greatly disappointed the hopes of the nation. This may have been due to a great defect in his training when a minor, over-indulgence taking the place of strict discipline. He proved to be a tyrant who took delight in shedding blood…. For …acts of cruelty, an insurrection was stirred up against him by all the people, and being rejected he committed suicide…

The reason why these Kings after rejection invariably committed suicide is this. The person of a King is regarded as sacred. Kings are venerated as gods, indeed many of them have been actually deified; but the moment a king’s enormities provoke an open rebuke, or on being told publicly “We reject you,” by the constitution of the country he must die that day. He cannot from the sanctity with which he has been regarded abdicate and continue to live as a private individual, or continue to reign by sufferance, by the clemency of aggrieved subjects. Hence he must die; and by his own hands, for it is an unthinkable horror among the Yorubas for any man to lay hands upon a being regarded as sacred. It is the prerogative of the Basorun to utter the sentence of rejection when the people are determined on it.

Even Noblemen also from their exalted positions are never ordered to execution. “The King rejects you. The ancient Kings Oduduwa, Orañyan, Aganju, and others, reject you.” He must then take poison and die. Such deaths are accounted honourable, public and decent funerals are accorded them.

If any one allows himself to be executed his carcase will be treated like that of a common felon, and his pulled down. Therefore a faint-hearted individual would be despatched by his nearest relatives to save themselves from indelible disgrace. An honourable burial will then be accorded to the illustrious dead.

[#11] Yoruba: “The Kings of the Yoruba,” from Rev. Samuel Johnson, ed. Dr. O. Johnson, The History of the Yorubas from the Earliest Times to the Beginning of the British Protectorate [completed 1897], Lagos: C.M.S. (Nigeria) Bookshops, 1921, Sango: pp. 34-36, 150-152; The King’s Natural and Official Mothers, 48-49, 63; Children Born to Die, 83-84, 137; Wearing the Death Cloth, 54-57, 396-398; 57 (text interpolated); The Fate of Despots, 156-158; 169-170, 172-173.

In Dahomi it is criminal to attempt to commit suicide, because every man is the property of the king, The bodies of suicides are exposed to public execration, and the head is always struck off and sent to Agbomi; at the expense of the family if the suicide were a free man, at that of his master if he were a slave.

[#10] Ewe: “The Criminality of Suicide,” from A. B. Ellis, The Ewe-Speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast of West Africa; their religion, manners, customs, laws, languages, &c. [originally published in 1890]. Reprint: Chicago: Benin Press, Ltd., 1965, p. 224.

This [ceremony] is jointly performed by the La Kpã priest and the Osabu priest. Osabu is a senior of the Kple gods, La Kpã the chief of the later comers and the present head of the whole town.

The La Kpã priest begins by taking a hoe newly decorated with both red tuŋ and pairs of white stripes, and dances from La Kpã’s tree to Osabu’s tree hoeing the air with great spirit and singing one of the many Kpã songs which begin: ‘Gba` ye pɔtnepɔ yo’, a phrase in a language no one understands. It is an amazing sight, this white-bearded dignified old man transformed into a flying confusion of white calico, skinny legs, and brandished hoe, whisking down the stony street. The Osabu priest stands waiting in silent dignified contrast under Osabu’s tree, takes the hoe from the La Kpã priest and hoes to the place of Nyoŋmɔ Tfawe and back, returns the hoe and the La Kpã priest hoes back again to his own tree.

This ceremony inaugurates a period of worship. The gods have come to the town—normally they are supposed to live on the hill of Adzangote a dozen miles inland where the Labadians stayed temporarily before settling on their present site. The gods stay six weeks in the town, and most of that time a Sabbath hush prevails: no drums except the gods’ own may be beaten, no private dancing, noise, shouting, or celebration is allowed. Formerly even whistling was forbidden. Furthermore, no one may die in the town during these weeks. If he does, he has committed the monstrous crime of Owu Kase or the blasphemous death. All burial rites are denied him, no one mentions that he has died, he is buried furtively in the bush, instead of under his own house, without any mourning or wailing, and his family have to make sacrifices and be purified from the pollution. The whole of his property is confiscated by the goddess Nã Yomo’—the goddess of births.

The ideas behind this prohibition of death in the presence of the gods are not quite so simple as those one might foresee. Knowing that priests may not touch or see any dead body, and when mortally sick themselves must be taken away from the gods’ premises, one at once leaps to the conclusion that the life-giving gods abhor death and that this is the whole story. Perhaps it was once, but the theory which the people themselves now offer to account for death prohibition during a feast is that the gods are much more interested in one newly dead person than in a townful of living ones. They will neglect their annual business with the living and go and talk with the newly dead. The ritual for the people is therefore spoilt….

… There are two kinds of death which are (literally) unspeakably disgraceful. The first is death during Hɔmɔwɔ when the gods are in the town; the second is the death of a pregnant woman….

…The death of a pregnant woman, whether early in her term or whether in childbed with the child still undelivered, is held to be due to her own wickedness, and by failing to deliver her child she is accounted its murderer. If she dies in childbed after the birth of the child, or if she has a miscarriage, she is treated as merely unlucky and is given ordinary burial; but if she dies together with her unborn child she is buried secretly without mourning, weeping, wailing, or any ordinary rites in Ko Σa, the accursed grove, outside the town.

For a woman buried in Ko Σa special rites are performed by the people of Afiwe (Nã Yomo’s worshippers) and the property of the dead woman is brought to Nã Yomo’s gbat fu and after snipping or chipping off a tiny scrap of each article to put in the gbat fu for Nã Yomo herself, the Nã Yomo wulɔmɔ distributes the rest. One of the wɔyei works herself into a possession fit and tells whether the dead woman owed or was owed anything, and payments or demands are accordingly made on behalf of Nã Yomo. After this a musu kpãmɔ purification ceremony is performed by the priest to take away the curse from the household. The family is finally purified with water from Nã Yomo’s pot.

The accursed grove, the burial-place of these dead women, is on the north side of the town and is a much dreaded spot. A waterhole not far away is believed to be haunted by these restless and wretched dead. These ghosts may be seen, I am told, in broad daylight looking just like living people, washing their clothes and the small clothes of their dead infants. The mere sight of them in the distance brings on a severe headache and fever; to meet them at close quarters is to be belabored with blows by them and thrashed nearly to death. My informant was prostrated with headache the day after merely telling me about them and showing me the accursed grove—though he had only stayed uneasily outside while I went inside to see if there were pots, stools, or any ceremonial apparatus—and he deemed it wise to ward off a possible worse fate with rum and panic-stricken apologies to the dead and to Nã Yomo.

[#9] “The Prohibition of Death,” from M. J. Field, Religion and Medicine of the Gã People, London, New York, Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1937, pp. 44, 59.

The fame of Adjuah Amissah, a native of Cape Coast [modern Ghana], is still kept fresh in the memory of the natives, by the songs which they sing in honor of her death. People are still alive, who remember the great beauty which hurried her to an early grave. She became the object of a devouring passion on the part of a young man of Cape Coast. Her relations, considering that her charms authorized them to expect a better alliance, refused to admit his addresses. This rejection so preyed upon the mind of the disappointed lover, that his life became insupportable, and he determined to sacrifice himself to his passion. He resolved, however, that Adjuah Amissah’s family should dearly rue having spurned his suit, and in the spirit of an inextinguishable vengeance he shot himself, attributing his death to his unrequited love, and invoking his family to retaliate it upon his murderess.

It is the principle of the Fantee law, to visit the cause of such a calamity with a similar retribution, and when a person puts himself to death, “upon the head of another,” as they express it—that is, attributes the cause of his act to another’s conduct—that other is required to undergo a like fate. The family of the unhappy girl endeavored to avert this fate by offering to pay a large sum in gold; but nothing but her death would satisfy the vengeance of the youth’s relations, and they appealed to the native authorities to vindicate their laws. All the mercy which could be extended to Adjuah Amissah, was to allow her a few days to lament with her friends her untimely end, and to have a silver bullet put into the musket with which she was compelled to deprive herself of life. She employed the few days of respite, in singing with her young friends her farewell dirge, and completed the cruel sacrifice by shooting herself.

[#8] Fante: “Killing Oneself ‘Upon the Head of Another’: The Tragedy of Adjuah Amissah,” from Brodie Cruickshank, Eighteen Years on the Gold Coast of Africa. London: Hurst and Blackett, 1853; reprint, London, Frank Cass, 1966, vol. 2, pp. 210-212.

The offences set out [below] were known in Ashantias Oman Akyiwadie, which, translated literally, means, ‘Things hateful to the Tribe’. These acts were looked upon as sins of which the central authority was bound to take immediate official notice, lest certain supernatural powers, to whom the deeds were regarded as peculiarly offensive, should wreak their vengeance, upon those whose paramount duty it was to protect their interests and to punish breaches of immemorial law or custom…

***

Suicide, except under certain peculiar circumstances, was formerly regarded in Ashantias a capital sin. It was a sin of which the central authority took immediate cognizance. These two statements of fact exhibit at once the difference and the similarity between our laws and theirs. Suicide and attempted suicide result, in our own country [England], in both legal and ecclesiastical consequences, but to state that suicide was ‘a capital offence’ must at first sight appear somewhat curious. Not all forms of what we would tern ‘suicide’ were regarded as sins; in fact, under certain circumstances, the action of taking one’s own life was considered as honourable and acclaimed as praiseworthy; e.g. to kill oneself in war by taking poison, or sitting on a keg of gunpowder to which a light was applied, rather than fall into the hands of the enemy or return home to tell of a defeat; to take one’s own life in order to accompany a beloved masters or mistress to the land of the spirits; and finally, those especially interesting cases, where a man commits suicide to wipe out what he considers his dishonour and because he cannot stand the ridicule of his companions. Suicide was considered a sin when it was carried out to avoid the consequences of some wrongful deed, or when, after investigation, it was not possible to ascribe any motive for the act. In the latter case there was always a legal presumption that the motive for self-destruction had been evil. In the disfavour with which the central authority seemed always to have regarded this offence, it is rather difficult to trace any other cause than the desire rigorously to maintain its prerogative as the sole dispenser of capital punishment. It is just possible, however, that the State, i.e. the tribal authority, may have placed suicide in the category of sins, owing to a dislike of having an evilly disposed disembodied spirit wandering about in its midst. The spirit of the suicide became a saman twetwe, a ghost wandering about in search of its head, for it was debarred from entering the Samandow (land of spirits) until the expiration of its destined time upon earth, which it had itself wrongfully curtailed. Moreover, when eventually reincarnated, it would return to this world as a tofo sasa—the spirit of one who had died an unholy death—with a cruel and murderous nature which would lead it again to meet a similar end in its next incarnation. The man who had committed an offence, the penalty for which he well knew was death, had not any right to balk the central authority of its right to execute him. The central authority indeed refused to be cheated thus, and the long arm of the law followed the suicide to the grave, from which, if kinsmen should have dared to bury him, he was dragged to stand his trial before the council of Elders. The result of the trial was almost a foregone conclusion, for the dead man would either have been found to have committed some offence, and fearing the consequences (which might have been more terrible than any self-inflicted death, i.e. the Atopere) have taken his own life, or if it were not found possible to trace any motive for the deed, then the commission of some wicked act was presumed, and he was equally judged guilty. In the latter case his dead body was addressed by the Okyeame in the following words:

(Addressing the Chief.) ‘This is your slave, (i.e. subject). No one knows what he had done, and to-day he has hanged himself. (Then addressing the corpse.) No man knows a single thing that came into your head (i.e. your motives), but, because you did not bring your case here that we might take good ears to hear it, but took a club and struck the Akyeame—and when you kill us (thus) you regard us as brute beasts—therefore you are guilty.’

In the case of a murderer who had afterwards committed suicide the final summing up was as follows:

(Addressing the Chief.) ‘This is your slave. (Addressing the corpse of the suicide.) Since it has come about that you have killed your fellow man, and when he had done a bad thing to you, you did not come to tell the Akyeame in order that we might have told the Chief and caused him to investigate the case for you, but instead, you went and killed him and also killed yourself, then because you did not bring your case here that we might have brought good ears to hear it, but instead raised a club and struck the Akyeame—and when you kill thus you treat us as if we were brute beasts—therefore you are guilty.’

As soon as the Okyeame had delivered this oration, the Chief’s executioners would step forward and decapitate the dead body. Here we have the explanation of the sentence ‘Suicide was a capital offence’. The plaintiff in the case had been the murdered man. The sentence and ‘execution’ of the murderer implied his innocence. The party in a trial who is judged innocent pays Aseda, a thank-offering, to the Chief… really a fee to ensure that witnesses would be forthcoming on a possible future occasion to testify to the result of the trial). The murdered man could not claim exemption to this rule. He (i.e. his kinsmen) therefore paid Aseda and the kinsmen claimed the body of their murdered relation without further formality. Not so the blood relations of the murderer and suicide. They might not on any account remove his body for burial in the clan sacred burial-ground; they might not even mourn for him. His headless trunk was cast into the bush, to wander, as we have seen, an unhappy headless ghost. Not only so, but his kinsmen could not themselves entirely escape the evil consequences of his deeds, a responsibility, that was even sometimes shared by the Chief himself. The kinsmen of the suicide had ‘to drink to the gods’ and to produce every bit of his (the suicide’s) personal private property, which was then confiscated by the Chief…

The immediate superior (if himself a Chief under a greater Chief) of a subject who had violated any of the great tribal or national taboos, and thereby incurred the death penalty, appears to have been held responsible that his subject did not escape punishment by committing suicide…

At a later date the custom arose of permitting the kindred of a person found guilty of many of these capitol sins ‘to buy the head’ of their clansman. It is very doubtful if this privilege was ever really extended to cases of deliberate murder, even at a late period when the majesty of law and the administration of justice were disregarded. By paying this price the confiscation of the offender’s private property was avoided, and if, as in the case of a suicide, the guilty party were already dead, his kindred also obtained the body, the head of which was not cut off; they might mourn for him, and hold the usual funeral custom.

[#5] Ashanti: “Law and Constitution: A Suicide’s Trial,” from Capt. R. S. Rattray, Ashanti Law and Constitution, Kumasi: Basel Mission Book Depot, and London: Oxford University Press, 1929, pp. 294, 299-302 [field date 1921ff.].

Normally, a witch cannot be detected in daylight, but there are certain signs supposed to be warnings that witchcraft is in the air…

Ordeals

In order to find out the guilty person, African justice in the past often resorted to trial by ordeals. In this way thieves, murderers, taboo-breakers and witches were “found out”. Space prevents me from describing these ordeals at length. There were a number of minor ones. The suspects were made to chew dry rice and those who could not swallow it were declared guilty. Medicine men were alleged to possess black powder with which they could make a witch glow or even burn, if they rubbed it on his forehead. After the application of a counter-medicine, the witch would confess. The Gas used some special medicated eyewater which would blind the guilty ones and leave the innocent unharmed. More serious was the ordeal with boiling oil, into which the suspect was to hold his hand. This ordeal was surrounded by an elaborate ritual. Even more fearful was the poison ordeal, where a concoction of the bark of the Odom (not Odum) tree was drunk by the suspect. Fainting and loss of consciousness were taken as proof of guilt. Such poison ordeals are common all over Africa. The most important Ghana ordeal was the so called “carrying of the corpse”. The dead body of a person who had died a strange death was carried by either two or four men. (Sometimes Some objects represented the actual body.) The “corpse” was asked questions and answered “yes” or “no” by the way it “made the carriers sway or knock forward”. In this way the corpse could knock against the guilty person. These ordeals are now all prohibited by law.

The Punishment

What happened if an ordeal had designated somebody as a real or “spiritual” murderer, poisoner or witch? The proverb says: “the corpse which is going to knock against someone cares nothing for cries of sorrow.”

In olden days a person found guilty by the poison ordeal was caught by the feet, dragged through the scrub and over stones till his body was torn to pieces and he died. This was the procedure among the Gas.

Among the Ashantis, a witch’s blood may not be shed. She was, therefore, strangled to death, or drowned, or clubbed, or smeared all over with palm oil and cast into a fire.

Another method of punishment has also been described by Captain Rattray: “A self confessed witch used to have a firebrand placed in her hand before being expelled from the village. A message was sent to the next village, from which she would also be driven and so on. This punishment really amounted to the death penalty”.

Among the Brongs at Boundoukou, the person found guilty was clubbed to death in the forest and his body was just thrown into the bush and not buried-a terrible punishment, if one knows how important for the after life correct burial is esteemed among the pagan. Among the Nќonya (a Guang tribe) the punishment was death by burning, or the payment of a ransom to the value of seven slaves. Among the Agni, the punishment for witchcraft was decapitation.

Until a century ago, the person convicted of witchcraft was almost always put to death by torture as Bowdich attests. This was really just a ceremonial form of lynching.

…After the Colonial Government had stopped this lynching, another form of punishment became more frequent: it was that of telling or expecting the person found guilty to commit suicide. The same Rev. Mader reports another case of “carrying the corpse”, where the “guilty person” was a mother of eight children. Through fear of the government-since two soldiers happened to be in town-she was not lynched but socially ostracized. Everybody avoided her. Her relatives told her to take courage and kill herself. She even went to see the paramount chief to ask for her death, but was refused-again for fear of the Government. She was then taken into custody in the house of an elder. There the constant mockery so distressed her, that she finally asked permission to fetch firewood in the bush and there she hanged herself.

Since the Government has abolished all this elaborate trial by ordeal and summary punishment, what reaction follows? Similar interference of Governmental authorities in theSudanmade Dr. Evans-Pritchard, write that it brought about “vagueness and confusion”. The same can be said of the Akan. However cruel the old system may look to us today, it maintained some order. Guilty persons were found-it did not matter whether they always really were guilty or not-and the system gave a certain sense of security. This was destroyed by the Government, which, of course, only wanted to prevent cruelty and could not do otherwise than to prohibit such customs.

[#4] Akan: The Rev. H. Debrunner, Witchcraft in Ghana: A study on the belief in destructive witches and its effect on the Akan tribes, Accra: Presbyterian Book Depot Ltd., 1959, 2nd ed. 1961, pp. 100-104.

The stage is now set; kinsfolk and ritual specialists have completed their preparations, and the body of the dead man now rests upon the funeral stand, ready to receive a mourning tribute from all those dwelling in the neighborhood, as well as from other kinsfolk who live at greater distances. For the messengers have now set off to other villages, and the music of the xylophones has spread news of the death throughout the parish, and to nearby settlements as well. All those who hear the funereal notes, however faintly, have some obligation to attend. Indeed, such occasions are the most important times when members of the ritual area congregate together in any sizable number. And apart from the premium placed upon attendance, to stay away can be taken as a sign of possible complicity in the death….

While the xylophones are playing, the lineage “wives” and “sisters” of the dead man walk and run about the area in front of the house, crying lamentations and holding their hands behind the nape of the neck in the accepted attitude of grief. The close male kinsfolk act in a similar manner, though they are somewhat more subdued than the women. From time to time, one of the immediate mourners breaks into a trot, even a run, and a bystander either intercepts or chases after the bereaved and quietens him by seizing his wrist. Those continuing to display such violent grief are secured round the wrist by a length of fibre or hide, the other end of which is held by a companion or follower of the bereaved…. For the closest mourner the material form of restraint is more effective, and a strip of hide, usually cowhide (ganaa), is tied firmly to the wrist, around which a piece of cloth has first been wrapped.

These different methods of tying and restraining the bereaved are indices of the socially expected reactions to grief on the part of various categories of person and are therefore of particular value in elucidating certain general aspects of these roles. The modes of restraint employed for the different kinship positions are as follows:

Man’s funeral

Father. …… ………..Tied by hide

Mother. ….. .. …… .Tied by hide

Wife . …….. . ….. .. Tied by hide

Brother. …. . ……… Tied by fibre

Sister. ………………. Tied by fibre

Son … .. …. . . . ….. String tied around the ankle

Daughter ……….. …String tied around the ankle

Woman’s funeral

Husband …….. …Tied by hide and cloth; string around waist and ankle

Father ……… …. . Tied by hide (in the case of an unmarried daughter)

Mother ….. . …. . Tied by hide (in the case of an unmarried daughter)

Brother …. .. . . . Tied by fibre

Sister ….. .. …….. Tied by fibre

Son …. . ………… String tied around the ankle

Daughter… . …… String tied around the ankle

The use of hide is limited to the persons who are presumed to lose most by the death, and of these a husband suffers hardest of all. It is only within this first category of bereaved that ritual precautions are taken against suicide. The second category of close mourners includes those who are considered less likely to do themselves harm; not only the kinsfolk listed above, but any other close affinal, agnatic, or matrilateral relative who runs about in front of the stand may be caught and tied round the wrist with fibre. In the third category come the children of the deceased who, though they are usually followed by a companion, wear only a piece of string tied round the ankle and often another tied round the neck….

…A further means of protecting the living against the dead is revealed in the methods of restraining kin. …persons tied with hide and fibre are distinguished from the offspring of the deceased, who have only a string tied around the ankle. The string is not in fact an attempt to restrain them; this their companions do by seizing the mourner’s wrists. It is rather a protective device comparable to the disguises adopted to deceive the ghosts. Here the tying of string round the ankle is thought to prevent the bereaved’s soul from leaving his body. At the end of the therapeutic ritual known as “sweeping the soul,” during the course of which an errant soul is made to re-enter the body it has abandoned, a string is also tied around the patient’s ankle. In both cases the string binds the soul within the human frame. For outside the body it is an easy prey for the witches and other malevolent agencies, such as the ghost of the dead man, from whom at his funeral the danger is seen to come. Another reason given by the LoDagaa for performing this rite is to soothe the patient’s anxiety; it is done, they say,… “lest your heart jump.” If your heart is troubled, then your soul is likely to be in danger, for it may have left the body that houses it….

…the methods of restraining the close bereaved, who fall mainly within the dead man’s families of orientation and procreation, reflect the socially recognized attitudes toward him. In this respect the parental is sharply differentiated from the filial role. A man will be expected to display great grief at the death of a young son, one, that is, who is past infancy and has acquired a social personality. The older the son, the less pronounced will be the parental grief displayed. Nevertheless, the father is always more affected by the son’s death than the son by the father’s, and although the son has a funeral companion, he is not restrained in any other of the formal ways. Indeed, the son has to be protected from his father’s ghost and is even suspected of being responsible for his father’s death. The reverse never occurs; a father needs no protection against his dead son, nor to the best of my knowledge is he ever directly implicated in his son’s death.

Another indication of the same imbalance in the parent-child relationship is to be seen in the occurrence of suicide attempts, which are a standardized method of demonstrating grief at the loss of a relative. The following two examples will show the differences involved. When Duure, the wife of Wura (Tshaa, Birifu), returned home one day from fetching firewood, she was too tired to carry her large bundle up to the roof and then down again into her own courtyard. So she threw the wood over the high wall of the yard; unfortunately her young son was playing there and was killed on the spot. The distracted Duure stuck a poisoned arrow in the wall and ran toward it; but at the last moment her resolution failed and she turned aside.

Whereas it is recognized that a parent may threaten or attempt to kill himself at the death of a child, the opposite would be unthinkable. When Ziem’s father died, no precautions against suicide were taken on his behalf. However, when his young son died some time afterward, he tried to kill himself with a poisoned arrow, and his “father” from another lineage had to bring a pair of the tongs used by smiths, and Ziem was made to grasp these in his hands. The tools of the smith, and indeed the smithy itself, are closely associated with the Earth shrine. “The smithy is (the same in certain respects as) the Earth shrine” say the LoDagaa.

One aspect of this association, possibly the major one, lies in the common link with iron. Iron ore is dug from out of the earth, and throughout the Voltaic region all unclaimed objects made from that metal belong to the Earth shrine. In smelting ore and in forging iron, the smith is working with the earth itself, and his role is in some respects assimilated to that of the custodian of the Earth shrine. For the smith who makes the weapons of war can also act as a peacemaker; like the Earth priest, he can throw ashes and make hot things cold. Hence the tools of his trade are thought of as having the power to quieten a man inclined to self-violence, a theory that is supported by the belief that after holding the tongs any attempt at suicide would prove fruitless; the wound would only remain open for three (or four) years, causing great pain to the person who had tried to kill himself. Thus giving the bereaved the tongs to grasp is like giving a suspected witch some earth to swallow. Both acts are carried out under the threat of force and both invoke the Earth shrine. Strictly speaking, however, in the first case the bereaved is made to take a conditional, though silent, oath; whereas in the second he is submitted to an ordeal, a mystical test of guilt.

…why in the standardized procedures of the LoDagaa, members of the junior generation express less grief at the death of a member of the senior generation than the reverse. But there is a further aspect of parent-child relationships that an examination of the modes of restraining the bereaved brings out. The list of methods of restraint shows that in the case of the death of a married woman, the father and mother are not bound round the wrist with hide, as they are for an unmarried daughter or a son. The major loss involved is now regarded as falling upon the husband rather than upon the parents; for it is he who by the marriage has both acquired rights and accepted duties toward their daughter. Included in these is the right, and duty, of burying her in the cemetery of the settlement in which he lives….

The close mourners, those tied with hide, include not only parents but husbands and wives. The loss of a spouse is equated with that of a child. The survivor is restrained from self-violence not only by the strip of hide tied around the wrist, but also by being made to grasp the smith’s tongs and, after the burial, to drink water sacralized by association with the Earth shrine.

Let us consider an actual example:

Namoo was living at a new settlement, some fifty miles to the south of Birifu, where he had taken his family a few years before. His wife was back visiting her natal house when she died very suddenly. A false message was sent to Namoo to say that his father’s surviving brother, Batero, had fallen from the rooftop of his house in Naayiili, and had died; it was assumed that a man would react less violently to the news of his paternal uncle’s death than to that of his wife. Namoo boarded a passing lorry and came at once. On reaching the outskirts of Birifu, he was met by a joking partner from another patrilineage of the same clan (that is, from the funeral group), who first of all seized his arms and then told him that it was his wife for whom the xylophones were playing. Namoo broke loose from the grasp of the joking partner and ran at full speed to his “father’s” compound, to which the body of his wife had been carried. There he was at once caught and restrained by other persons present at the funeral. For the LoDagaa declare that it is better for a man in such a state to be with the crowd rather than on his own lest he try to do himself some harm. Moreover, attendance at the ceremony has another, less explicit, effect on the bereaved. As the funeral continues, their grief is lessened by the performance-both by themselves and by others-of the various formalized procedures. Quite apart from the specific content of the rituals, their actual performance has a purging effect. The LoDagaa, however, take additional precautions against the bereaved, and when Namoo arrived at the scene of the funeral, he was seized for the second time, and into his hands were pressed the smith’s tongs.

Although both husbands and wives are tied with hide when a spouse dies, it is expected that greater intensity of grief will be displayed by the man than the woman, and it is he who will be most carefully supervised. Wives are the actual or potential means by which the continuity of the lineage is maintained. The death, particularly of a young wife, entails a total loss of the reproductive powers that the lineage has acquired; for there is no return of the bridewealth in the case of her death, nor is a substitute provided as in the institution of the sororate. If a man has proved himself to be a good son-in-law, his affines may formally point out another girl as his “wife,” but he will still have to hand over the full bridewealth if he wants to marry her. On the other hand, the death of a husband entails no comparable loss to the widow nor to her descent group. By the operation of the levirate she automatically has another husband to provide for her, another man’s house in which to live, another sexual partner. If she is not satisfied with any of the possible inheritors, she can always try to find a husband elsewhere.

The tying of a piece of white cloth around the wrist of the widower but not of the widow, apparently to mitigate the chafing of the hide, indicates that the LoDagaa expect a greater display of violent grief from the man than the woman. To explain this only in terms of the difference in physical strength is hardly satisfactory, since a man is not ordinarily expected to give vent to his grief to the same extent as a woman. Our alternative interpretation of the relationship between the modes of restraint and the differences in conjugal roles is supported by an examination of the rites of widowhood, the whitewashing and testing of the surviving spouse. These rites also emphasize an aspect of conjugal bereavement that we have already encountered in discussing the concept of “dirt,” namely the element of hostility that is visualized as an intrinsic feature of marital relationships. But here we need only make the point that these differences reflect an explicit social situation; for whereas by the death of a spouse a man loses the sexual services of his wife, the widow merely exchanges the services of one man for those of another….

The burial of the body terminates for the time being the phase of public mourning. but the mortuary ceremony continues for another three days. For three days after a man’s burial, only women may sleep at the house where the death occurred, the male bereaved and those who come

from afar being led away to sleep in another compound. Every morning and evening the women burst into loud lamentations. At night they lie down outside the house, and if it rains, they go inside the long room, although they speak of this as the byre and therefore maintain the fiction of not entering the house to sleep. In Tom, I was told that formerly men would sleep for four days at the house where a woman had died, but so far as I know this is not done nowadays.

In respect of the bathing and whitewashing of the surviving spouse, the treatment of men and women is markedly different. The imbalance of the conjugal relationship, already noted in connection with the modes of restraining the bereaved, is again brought out in the procedures taken to prevent the widow or widower from committing suicide that are an intrinsic part of the bathing rituals. As in the earlier instances, the measures taken against the suicide of the widower are considerably more severe than in the case of the widow.

…the bathing of the widower, a rite that takes place outside the deceased’s compound on the day following the burial. A matriclan joking partner from within the husband’s own patriclan brings a knife, an arrow, and three stones seen as belonging to the Earth shrine. …three such stones are also buried under the entrance to the byre of a new compound, and should anyone die there during the next three years, it is thought that the site in question is unwilling to accept the new residents and that they would be wise to move elsewhere. The metaphorical association of three stones and three years occurs again in the present instance; for if a widower tries to kill himself after being made to drink water in which the arrow, knife, and stones are placed. it is said that his wound will remain open for three years. When he gives the water to the husband, the joking partner makes a speech, of which the following is an example:

In the water you drink, can you see the arrow, the knife and the three stones?

With the knife, a person can kill himself. With the arrow, he can do the same.

But look at these stones. Today I give you both the knife and the Arrow.

If you are thinking of killing yourself, of cutting your throat

with the knife, you won’t be able to do it. If you take an arrow

and say you’ll wound yourself, the poison can’t kill you.

People would say that the Earth shrine wishes it so,

and others would think you knew something about your wife’s death.

So today we give you these things to cool your anger.

In time you’ll follow your wife; but she can never return to you.

If you wound yourself, you’ll be sick three years without dying;

and when you recover, you’ll have to make a payment to the Earth shrine.

…The measures taken against the widower are an aspect of the sanctions against suicide that exist in most social systems; however honorable a solution suicide may provide for the individual, from the society’s standpoint the practice must be held in check. Here it is visualized as a heinous sin against the Earth. But the speech bears on the problem of social control in yet another way. For by drinking the water in which the stones of the Earth shrine have been placed, the widower is in effect taking a silent oath that he has had nothing to do with his wife’s death. If he has been involved, the Earth shrine would allow him to commit suicide or perhaps bring about his death in another way.

[#3] “Restraining the Bereaved to Prevent Suicide,” from Jack Goody, Death, Property and the Ancestors. A Study of the Mortuary Customs of the LoDagaa of West Africa, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1962, pp. 86-88. 90-92, 94-96, 183-185.