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The Bangwa are conscious of this dual division between the
highlands and lowlands. Many highlanders maintain that the real nwe
is restricted to the open country of Fontem, Fotabong, Fonjumeter and
Foto. The inhabitants of the forest are the ‘down’ people (mba
tshen) who produce the valuable oil. The highlanders put a premium
on hierarchical political organisation and rank; it is they who
traditionally owned the palm groves in the forests, sending their slaves
and servants to supervise oil production. Nowadays such master-servant
links are becoming more and more tenuous: and the highland chiefs are
losing an important source of tribute.
Highlanders are proud and independent; they despise farm work but are consummate politicians, dancers and carvers. Their religious scruples are connected with the worship of ancestral skulls. They consider their lowland countrymen to be steeped in the magic and witchcraft of their Banyang and Mbo neighbours. ‘Up and down’ notions are mostly stereotypes; but as with stereotypes all over the world there is a grain of truth in them. Two seasons determine
the Bangwa farming seasons the wet season from The Bangwa cultivate
crops associated with both forest and savannah climates but everywhere
the staple is cocoyam and for most people it is the most satisfying, if
not the most delicious food, They are of two kinds: the hairy, fluffy
white ‘native’ cocoyam and the bigger, waxier ‘European’
cocoyam. They are planted in January or February and intercropped with
pumpkins and gourds. After the first rains in March 11 and Subsistence farming is
undertaken by women. Each will have half a dozen or more farms given over
principally to cocoyams but with beans, maize, cassava, sweet potatoes and
groundnuts as subsidiary crops. Clearing is done by the women themselves,
usually in groups. Sometimes very heavy bush is cleared with the help of
an adolescent son or an obliging son-in-law, in return for a meal.
Co-wives usually farm their major farms together, but subsidiary farms on
land begged from divers kin will be widely separated. Only farms near the
compounds are fenced: further afield there are vast unfenced stretches of
farms with only vague boundaries between the farms of individual women. An
important hazard is that from roaming livestock (goats, sheep, cattle).
During the vital growing periods small boys of pre-school age spend long
days in small grass huts shouting off marauding monkeys. Farming in Bangwa is an
arduous if not continuous task. Women have other important activities:
such as the making of household articles like pots, mats, rope and bags.
In quiet times they collect firewood which is scarce in the highlands.
Towards the beginning of the dry season the women form parties to hunt for
tadpoles and frogs: there are no fish in most Bangwa rivers. In the past
large-scale diversion of rivers was organised by the queen-mother (mafwa)
to snare tadpoles in dams. Apart from plantains Bangwa men showed little
interest in farming. Recently, however, they have been encouraged to grow
cashcrops: cocoa in the lowlands and coffee in the highlands. The
production of oil has always been important and forms one of Bangwa’s
biggest exports. Other permanent crops, none of which is of special
commercial interest, are kola, avocado pears, ‘plums’, Indian bamboo,
the ‘date’ palm and two kinds of raffia. The four different types of
palm all produce wine but only the raffias and date palm are exploited to
any degree. Oil palm wine, although coveted, involves cutting down the
trees which is prohibited. Raffia and Indian bamboo provide important
building materials and the ‘date’ palm provides fibres for mat- and
basket-making. Land, as such, was not a
scarce commodity in Bangwa although fertile land, or flat land was
specially valued. On the whole it was people who were lacking: chiefs
welcomed immigrants whatever their status or past history, arranging for
houses to be built for them and allowing them and their wives equal access
to available farm land. Who owns the land in Bangwa? Is it privately owned
like most other property: houses, palm groves, etc.? In the first place
all the land within the boundary of a chiefdom belongs to the chief: the
mountains, the rivers, the virgin forests, the farms. The chief ‘cares
for the land’ only. He calls together the ku’ngang society to
ensure the fertility of the soil through annual sacrifices. He settles
disputes. He allocates land for community purposes. And, as far as the
unoccupied forest lands are concerned, any subject of the chief may claim
usufruct by 12 clearing it. However, within a chiefdom subchiefs
also claim to ‘own the land’, subject to the paramount chief’s
overriding claims. Within the land of a chiefdom or a subchiefdom a chief
has completely private rights only to those gardens immediately attached
to the palace. Other farming tracts are controlled by the chief and shared
out to his wives and the wives of his subjects. Within a chiefdom a noble
or compound head will only own a fenced area attached to his compound:
this will be used for garden crops (spinach, garden eggs, etc.), plantains
and, today, coffee. Most men’s wives depend on a share of the farming
tract divided annually by the chiefs. This will be a woman’s primary
plot for two or three years; it reverts to fallow after the cocoyams and
subsidiary crops of maize and groundnuts have been harvested. A woman will
also have farms in neighbouring quarters or chiefdoms since certain areas
are valued for certain crops; and six or seven farms will prevent the
calamity of a crop failure in one area. A woman’s rights to her farms
are essentially temporary: when they are fallow she loses any rights
unless she has planted permanent crops (pear trees or coffee) or has
cleared untouched virgin bush herself. In general one can say that land is
a ‘free good’: there are no permanent rights to farm land; no payments
are made, even in kind, to the ‘owner’ of the land. In some places
however conditions are changing. Land beside the new motor roads, around
important markets, especially if it is flat, is coveted by traders, who
may not traditionally have any rights to land in that area. There is a
tendency for commoners to sell land surrounding their compounds, which was
traditionally for their individual use. On the other hand there is a fear
that chiefs may take advantage of their position as traditional overlord
to transfer land at will and for their personal profit. The development of
cash crops and new village settlements will exacerbate this problem: up to
the moment the administration, while supporting the chief’s rights in
principle, has made no general ruling. Although land could never be sold in the past this was not the case of permanent crops which were sold, leased or pawned at will since they are owned individually and quite separately from the soil on which they are grown. Palm trees, especially, change hands frequently: they may be inherited, sold for cash or pawned and pledged. In the latter cases a palm grove is handed over for a certain period in exchange for an amount of money - usually the owner also claims an annual tribute in oil. The position concerning cash crops is ambivalent but in general they have been treated as permanent crops. Rights to land and crops are thus multiple; sharing rights in one plot will be the chief as general overlord, the sub-chief in whose country the land is located, the owner of the palm trees, the owner of the coffee bushes under the palm trees, and the woman who is intercropping maize and cocoyams among the coffee. The Bangwa men despise
farming but they are far from being laggards. They were, in the past,
pre-eminently traders and warriors but they were also producers of oil,
capable hunters, rearers of livestock and specialised craftsmen. Livestock
rearing has taken on an increased importance within recent years. Whereas
in the past (vide Cadman Assessment Report) the Bangwa depended on buying
their livestock from eastern markets they are now supplying the populous 13 Bamileke areas with pigs and goats. Nowadays each
household head has a pig or two the meat of which fetches high prices in
the local markets: women and children are kept busy providing them with
food. Goats roam the paths, often wreaking havoc in the women’s farms:
they are mostly used for gift-exchange or sacrifice. Hens are numerous.
Sheep are owned by the more well-to-do mainly as a store of wealth. Cattle
are kept only in the eastern highlands: the chief of Fontem has a herd of
dwarf cattle which is, unfortunately, fast diminishing. Specialised activities
include those of the smith, carver, diviner, priest and healer; nowadays
there are also carpenters and tailors. The Fontem blacksmiths are
well-known in the The flourishing Bangwa
economy has always depended primarily on trade. A geographically
advantageous position between the densely populated savannah regions and
the forest zones in contact with the Slaves were bought in the
east and sold to Banyang or Keaka traders for sale in the Chiefs were the principal
traders although individual fortunes were made by commoners. Chiefs’
servants traded for them: they maintained special contacts both in the
east and the west. On the whole this kind of trading was conducted outside
the markets. Most male slaves were sold; a few were retained as palace
servants, 14 or to climb the oil palms in the lowlands. The whole
structure of Bangwa society depended on the slave trade: to some extent
its present day structure is a result of it. Many female slaves were
married. Slaves were on the whole well-treated and frequently rose to
positions of wealth and political importance. Descendants of
slave-retainers are now important subchiefs. Unlike their neighbours, the
Banyang, the Bangwa attach little stigma to slave parentage: in fact no
Bangwa can say with certainty that there is no slave blood in his family.
Children of slaves were technically free, although their children might
continue their father’s work in the palace. Some people say that the
position of a slave (efwet) or the child of a slave (mwombembe)
was more advantageous than that of a man’s free born son: a chief or
wealthy man feared his sons, but trusted his loyal slave or servant,
rewarding them with political office and women. A childless man could
appoint his slave as his successor. Since German times
trafficking in slaves has been forbidden but trading in European goods
remained important and could be exchanged in the east, against cash now
instead of human beings. Young men, singly or in pairs, travelled to
Calabar and Onitsha to buy goods to sell in the Bangwa, Bamileke and Mbo
markets. Many owners of fine, European-styled compounds and a plurality of
wives owe their position to this lucrative trade. But with independence
and re-unification Calabar and Most of the internal trade
is in the hands of women although young men earn money by trading
livestock and oil in the Bamileke markets, and wine in the Banyang
markets. Women carry smoked meat and fish from the forest areas to the
highland markets; palm wine to the lowlands; and cocoyams, oil and oil
kernels to the east returning with groundnuts and maize. There is a
general trading pattern from Banyang forest market, to Bangwa lowland
market, Bangwa central highland market and Bamileke Grassfield market -
all of which a Bangwa trader, male or female, may attend in one eight-day
week. Wives of chiefs and nobles, on the other hand, are usually forbidden
to carry out these long-distance and strenuous trading expeditions: they
earn pin money by trading foodstuffs in their local markets: cocoyams,
cassava flour, maize beans, roasted groundnuts, kola nuts and garden eggs.
With these small profits they are able to buy small quantities of salt,
meat and oil to supplement their husband’s contributions. The women who
trade more extensively can afford to buy household articles, cloth and
make important contributions to their children’s schooling. Bangwa is dotted all over with markets, large and
small. No chief worth his salt is without one. They are usually on the
forest-savannah trading routes within each chiefdom: trade was never
north-south. For this reason it was no anomaly that each of the major
markets occurred on the same day of the eight-day week (amina): 15 this was altered by the British administration. In
Fontem (population 7,400 in 1953) there are four important markets, and
half a dozen others are attended regularly by the inhabitants. A market
was established in the past by a chief planting a ‘fig’ tree (nda)
in front of his palace and sacrificing a goat which was buried below it.
It was his duty to protect the people attending his market. He himself,
however, by custom, is forbidden to enter the market on market days: he
sits with his retinue outside the palace and is available to his subjects
to receive their compliments or settle their disputes. Nowadays he may
collect taxes or carry out local government business. Announcements are
made by a royal servant who walks through the market carrying the nkeng
leaf, which symbolises peace, or the royal double gong. In one corner of
the large and colourful market at Fontem some of the chief’s councillors
are available for settling disputes between traders. Ibo traders attend
with their fancy-goods and patent medicines. Palm wine is sold in
prodigious quantities in many tiny stalls. Cattle and pigs are slaughtered
and sold in a special section; livestock is sold in another; smoked fish
and game in another etc. Solidly built shops owned by Bangwa traders are
slowly springing up around the market squares but sites for such
enterprises are difficult to acquire, especially for strangers. Many
regulations surround market trading a form of protection exists by which
non-Bangwa are forbidden to sell certain kinds of goods such as pork; and
all traders are strictly enjoined to abstain from encouraging adultery
etc. Both the Bangwa country
and its inhabitants have attracted the sympathetic attention of outside
visitors. Administrators wrote of the precipitous terrain, narrow cliff
paths, wild, dropping waterfalls and the proud, colourful people in their
lonely fastnesses: the men with their hair long, dressed in elaborate
styles; the women shaven and naked. On ceremonial occasions both men and
women brought out splendid clothes and fantastic masks. The Europeans
admired the clean well- kept compounds, the elegant houses, the trim
hedges. Each adult Bangwa has his
own compound, built away from the main paths; unless it is a modern style
house with its shining zinc roof, it is invisible to the passing stranger.
When a young man wished to start an independent adult life he was given a
length of bamboo from his father, symbolising his consent and limiting the
size of the walls of his square house. People did not live in villages,
nor even in compounds of extended families. It has been suggested that
witchcraft fears sent them off to build their houses in the bush alone.
Others say: ‘Should we fear our friends and relations to such an extent
that we should live on top of them in case they do us harm?’ Separate
compounds tie in with Bangwa individualism and their system of inheritance
whereby most of a man’s inheritance goes to his heir: other sons had to
seek their fortunes independently. A private path leads off
the main track, winding in what often seems a haphazard fashion before
reaching a suitably dignified height to descend down elaborate steps to
the open dancing place before the Great House (ndia ndi)
which most compounds boast. Visitors, friends and subjects meet in this
house which, in the compounds of chiefs and nobles, is often an imposing
building. The right to a number of poles, 16 granted by the chief, indicates the rank of the
owner. In the compound each wife has her own house where she cooks and
works and where she and her children sleep. The compound head has his
private quarters (if he is a polygynist) usually hidden from view behind a
tall fence made of fern poles. Here he keeps his heirlooms, his ancestors
skulls etc., and receives his closest friends. He takes his meals and
entertains visitors in the Great House. The tall solid Bangwa
house attracts admiration after the squat oblong houses of the forest
peoples. Flat sites are difficult to find for building purposes and areas
are laboriously levelled by hand: enormous boulders which can not be
shifted are left surrounding the houses. The traditional shape of a Bangwa
house is a cube on a shallow circular foundation of stones, surmounted by
a conical thatched roof. The size and proportions vary according to the
importance of the building but the basic shape of a woman’s hut and a
large chief’s meeting house is the same. The dry season is the time
for house building, and involves friends, neighbours and relations. The
women work the mud and the men make the timber supports. The method of
making the walls recalls European half-timbering: there is a wooden
framework (here of ant-resisting fern poles) with a lattice between which
is plastered to leave the framework revealed. The fern poles are driven
into the ground to form a square, about a foot apart. Cross-posts (palm
ribs) are lashed to the uprights with flexible vines as ropes. Mud is
thrown on to this surface by women. The roof is constructed of four
triangular frames which are bound on to a round tray: resting on the
building the triangles join in the middle forming the curve of the roof. The interior of the house
is plastered with mud although superior ones are lined with bamboos tied
together with vines making decorative patterns. There are no windows,
light entering through the small rectangular door, its threshold a couple
of feet above the floor. Storage space is inside the roof. Beds and
shelves are built into the walls with bamboos. Traditional houses were
rebuilt every ten or fifteen years, although some large ceremonial houses
have been standing for nearly fifty years. The large cluster of
houses comprising a chief’s palace gives the impression of a village.
The palace at Fontem is no longer built entirely in the traditional style:
most of the Fon’s wives (he has over forty) live in two long rows of
zinc-roofed huts. Previously the palace was a maze of wives’ huts
centering on courtyards fenced off with fern poles and entered through
porches. There were also the houses of the chief’s servants and for the
important associations, tro and lefem. The chief’s
sleeping quarters - the nti ma, or heart of the palace - was
situated amidst these clusters of wives’ houses. Access to this area was
difficult; nobody but a trusted wife or retainer even knew in which room 17 houses is the large thatched lemoo, a huge
traditional structure on a circular stone foundation, supported by weighty
poles. Inside the walls are intricately panelled with bamboos. There are
special alcoves for subchiefs, noble and commoners: the thief sits with
his wives and servants at one end. Outside the palace there
is a large dancing green and beyond is the lefem: a copse where
royal children are buried and where the cult association with its
harmonious gongs meet on a certain day each week. It had its own servant,
Mwo Bu Lefem, a weird unkempt creature who lived in the bush and cared for
the valuable gongs. Protecting the palace against witchcraft was a line of
stones (ledzü) and as one of the most vital symbols of chiefship a
monolith called mwo ala. An elaborate etiquette
gives outward cognisance to a ranking system which includes chiefs,
subchiefs, nobles, commoners, royals, slave servants, titled servants;
also the old and young, men and women, wife-givers and wife-takers. Even
within a single class - subchiefs for example - there is a hierarchy
determined by the age of the title, whether it was ‘bought’ or ‘came
from God’, the incumbent’s relationship to the paramount chief, etc. A
subchief’s rank determined his seating in the national assembly, whether
his wives wore brass anklets, the number of supporting poles and doors of
his ndia ndi (‘great house’), the amount his successor
paid to the chief as death dues etc. The most obvious difference, perhaps, is between the sexes.
Men and women co-operate rarely in daily life. A man has his own
interests, his own friends; contact between husband and wife is minimal -
even travelling together to a funeral ceremony a man walks ahead, his
wives behind with their paraphernalia. Women are expected to adopt a
subservient mien in the presence of men: they sit only when bidden, rarely
eat in a man’s presence, and when a woman meets a man on the farm paths
she will slightly bow and stamp her foot in greeting. Even today when an
important man visits a compound the old ladies come out, bow down and with
a swaying motion sweep the ground with their hands. Nevertheless some
women achieve positions of importance; and the ‘hen-pecked’ husband is
as common in Bangwa as The Bangwa chief (efwa) is the focal point and
strength of the traditional system. It was to his chief that a man owed
his primary loyalties in the past - not to his lineage or his age grade.
The chief is not divine: neither he nor his ancestors form the basis for a
national cult: but he has sacred attributes and performs important rites
for the well-being and fertility of his subjects. A subject speaks to him
with his hands before his mouth, after attracting his attention by
clapping his hands twice three 18 times
and standing in a stooped position; he leaves his presence bent low and
walking backwards. If a chief sneezes one of his retinue calls one of his
many praise names: ‘great snake’, ‘leopard’, ‘God on earth’.
In the past, and in some respects still today, the Bangwa chief was feared
by everyone, and with reason, since his power over his subjects was
considerable. The duties of the chief towards his subjects are arduous and
rarely neglected. He settles their family quarrels, their land disputes,
accusations of witchcraft; he attends their funeral ceremonies; he directs
community projects. The present chief of Fontem is available to his people
day and night; he cures their aches and pains, gives advice, settles
disputes over succession, conducts witch-proving rituals, attends to
matters of local and national politics (he is a member of the House of
Chiefs), and deals with his own huge compound and farming interests. The paramount chief’s wealth can be considerable. Certain
articles come to him as his due: ivory tusks, leopard skins etc., which
are the traditional symbols of chieftaincy. His harem may be extensive and
he has important rights in the marriage payments of a large percentage of
his female subjects (his wards or azem’nkap) At the death of his
subchiefs and nobles he receives death dues which might be the transfer of
a marriage ward, an oil grove, or simply cash. He owns extensive palm tree
forests which were cared for by his slaves and servants in the past;
nowadays the groves are pawned to men who provide him with an annual
tribute in kind. Palm wine is also brought to him by tappers with raffia
palm concessions. Otherwise there is no formal tribute or taxation system
although subchiefdoms and quarters were expected to bring gifts during
annual celebrations at the capital. Conquered areas, such as Mbo, formerly
brought smoked fish and game. The services of his servants (tshöfwa)
are also an important source of income. The Fontem blacksmith family were
originally his slaves: most of the profits from the sale or exchange of
their valuable gongs and tro instruments went to the palace. The
chief also expects his immediate subjects, the inhabitants of the palace
quarters, to provide labour for the building and repair of his palace. The
great meeting house (lemoo) is the responsibility of the whole
country. Perhaps the greatest source of wealth in the past was from
trading, mainly in slaves. His sons and servants traded for him and he had
permanent trading alliances with eastern chiefs and Banyang traders. His
special servant in the lefem traded slaves in the west, insisting
as the chief’s trader, on prior entry into the market. An attempt, not
particularly successful, was made by the chiefs to monopolise the trading
of guns. There is no doubt that Bangwa chiefs frequently showed
unpraiseworthy cupidity in the past. The property of childless, wealthy
men was confiscated; the property of witches or adulterers sold or hanged
was sent to the palace. 19
Nowadays
the resources of a chief are more limited; and this decline in wealth is
parallelled by a decline in political power. The chief still has marriage
rights in his wards; he still owns palm groves. But his subjects are
questioning his rights to a share of the bridewealth of the descendants of
slaves; and his resident palm oil producers are no longer willing to hand
over the chief’s traditional share. The present Chief of Fontem receives
payment as local tax collector, member of the In
Lebang (Fontem) the political pattern does not differ greatly from that
found in other Bangwa chiefdoms and across the border among the Chiefs depended very much on a body of servants or retainers who inhabited the palace precincts. They were of varied origins: some were descendants of slaves; others were the sons of female marriage wards (azemnkap) even a free man could become a chief’s servant since palace service often entailed advantages (a wife perhaps) which a man’s father could not provide. Immigrants to the country, exiled from their homes because of accusations of witchcraft or adultery, had no choice but accept the chief’s bounty and become his servant. A slave (efwet) was quite a different status from that of servant (tshöfwa) Even among the body of palace retainers there were ranks. A retainer’s duties were varied. Some looked after the running of the palace and watched over the Fonts wives. Others supervised community work-parties; collected the chief’s oil dues or traditional payments such as death dues and bride wealth; arranged the marriages of royal daughters. One or two trusty retainers lived in the chief’s private apartments; sometimes they acquired power both inside 20 and outside the palace. Loyal service was rewarded by gifts (palm groves, wives) or promotion to the status of Great Servant ( tshö fwa ndi). A powerful Bangwa chief trusted his servants more than his councillors (bakem) or royal sons (ebwo fwa): a servant would be unlikely to wish him harm for political or personal reasons. Favourite retainers were frequently married to royal daughters: the Fontem queen mothers married, as a rule, their fathers retainers. This enabled them to remain living in the palace, and gave them the required independence not available to the wife of a noble Bangwa. It also meant that the property acquired by a servant and by a queen mother would not leave the royal family: the successor would be a royal. The
Fon’s executive council, tro ndi called ‘the Nine’,
consisted of the nine great retainers of the chief. These were palace
intimates; their titles were inherited by their sons but the chief had the
power to change the succession. The Nine were always associated with the
chief, both inside and outside the palace. They alone were allowed to sit
with the chief’s wives. They shared the chief’s spiritual activities:
together they were transformed into leopards or pythons, joining other
paramount chiefs and their retinues in the other world where they
performed feats of agility and competed in splendour. For this reason the
Nine were feared, particularly by the chief who depended on them while
travelling on these spiritual ventures. The explanation of the recent
death of a In a sense the Nine were also the Bangwa kingmakers. It was to them the chief confided the name of his successor on his death bed. They protected the palace during the often turbulent interregnum and saved the young chief from possible usurpation. The Nine announce the chief’s death, supervise the ritual preparation of the corpse and announce his successor to the populace. They have other important activities: they make a sacrifice involving the mystic stone of the country which stands outside every Bangwa palace (mwo ala); they play a vital role in the ceremony which follows the killing of a leopard; one of them accompanies the chief when he makes a regular sacrifice to the royal skulls. In Fontem the Nine were originally slaves or retainers; however they frequently married royal daughters so that their successors become relatives, ‘sister’s sons’, of the chief. The chief was primarily concerned with settling disputes among his immediate subjects (his fumbe); his subchiefs were allowed to deal with their own cases locally. He was aided in this by bakem and his trusted servants, of whom only a selected few attended his council or court (atshem). The chief sits in his meeting house (lemoo) everyday to discuss political questions with his councillors and subjects or to settle disputes, although special days were set aside for the hearing of important cases. Some decisions were taken in the secrecy of the tro house with 21 |