Nine Faces Of Kenya

by Elspeth Huxley

  The sorcerers, the real witchdoctors, are the last category of medicine men and they deal in spells and magic. Africa has long been held in thrall by them. A disgruntled neighbour, a jealous relative, in fact anyone with a grudge or envious of another man’s wife, riches or good luck, can call upon the witchdoctor to cast a spell and no modern medicine can avail against such a disease. It can only be exorcized by a more potent witchdoctor or perhaps by religious faith. It is well known in Africa for a man to be Perfectly healthy, then one day to start to ail, becoming no more than a shadow of himself, until he turns his face to the wall and dies as if he himself had willed it. Nothing can deflect the course of this condition for the patient is embroiled by a growing sense of guilt, fear and evil, often cultivated by sorcerers with weird spells and rituals. Ritual murders to provide the materials for these spells still take place in secret.

  Different Drums Michael Wood.

  The power of spells.

  It is very curious that in spite of their enviable physical qualities, many Africans lack resistance to psychic suggestion, and easily succumb to witchcraft. Only recently we had lost one of George’s best Game Scouts as a result of a spell. He was an intelligent, middle-aged Akamba who had previously served for many years with the Kenya Police. His wife had run away with a lover who, wishing to get rid of the husband, had arranged for a spell to be cast on the poor scout; he was to die within a certain time limit. We visited him and found him in a state of advanced emaciation. We tried our best to talk him out of his conviction that he must die, and we took him to the hospital where the doctor assured him that there was nothing physically the matter with him. Nevertheless, he died on the day forecast by the spellbinder.

  The Peoples of Kenya Joy Adamson.

  In cases of illness the task of the medicine-man or witchdoctor was to identify the spirit that was causing the trouble and then propitiate or expel it. The Swahili called this process “reduction”.

  If a woman has a three-day fever, she attributes to herself a spirit in need of reduction, especially if there is something wrong with her husband. Her sickness becomes worse daily, and she does not leave her bed. When the parents see that their child is sick, they say, “Your wife has inherited her grandmother’s spirit, and that is what is making her ill. When she was small we raised to her head the spirit of her grandmother, saying, ‘Take care of this child until she grows up, and then we will give you your platter.’ Now her grandmother is dead, and her spirit demands its platter and has possessed its grandchild.” If the husband does not attend to the words of his parents-in-law, people are offended with him and say that he is mean. They call him the one who has swallowed iron. But if he agrees with them that his wife has a pepo and that there must be a reduction, her parents are pleased and say that their daughter has a loving husband, and the woman agrees that he is a loving husband. He calls in a doctor to consult the omens, asking what is causing his wife’s illness.

  “There is nothing more than a spirit.”

  “Will you treat her?”

  “First we must uncover the pot for her to see what is her condition.”

  There are two sorts of “pot” – stones and steam.

  For the pot of stones, “queen bread” is dug up. This is the fungus grown in white-ant hills. Seven lumps are dug out and set on fire, for this stuff is inflammable. A matting hut is built, and the sick person comes and sits on a stool. A hole is dug, and a pot of water is brought. Her face is covered, and the lumps are quenched in the water in the hole. She inhales the steam and breaks into a sweat. That is the stone pot.

  The steam pot is made by plucking leaves that will steam and putting them to cook in a pot. The patient leans over the steam and breaks into a sweat, and with more of the steaming water she bathes her whole body. That is the steam pot.

  Every day for seven days the pot is made ready from late afternoon to sunset, and she sits over it for an hour. She is glad when it is over, because she knows that she will soon be reduced. When the pot treatment is finished, they make ready for the reduction, saying to the doctor, “She is your patient; tell your other patients that we are going to hold a dance.” The husband goes to the shop to buy the spirit clothes, red cloth, black calico, and white muslin. Trousers are made of the white and the red, and a hut is built either in the town or outside. It is called a kilinge.

  At sunset the woman is taken to the kilinge, and there a platter is made ready. In it are placed bananas, sugar, cane, raw eggs, bread, and all sorts of good food. At the time of evening prayer the possessed person has her face painted with black, white, and red spots, and then they start the sound to entice the spirit up to her head. They dance and sing the song of enticement:

  I pray thee, O Lord,

  Thou, O Lord,

  Undo my fetters,

  Thou, O Lord.

  The people respond, singing for something like an hour. As the spirit rises, it shakes all her limbs. Then the doctor interrogates, that is, talks with the spirit; but what he says no one knows but the doctor and his patient. The doctor orders the drum to be beaten hard, and the spirit rises to dance. The initiates dance, and the sound of the drum carries them away. Some of them fall down in the kilinge, and when they reach home they are themselves in need of reduction….

  This dance goes on day and night for seven days. If the spirit is a good dancer, it is given presents by the people; but these presents belong not to it but to the doctor, the drummers, and the piper, for everyone who attends to watch the dance brings some money. This is not compulsory but voluntary. Every time the drum is beaten, the spirit dances and the people put money on its head.

  The sixth day is the day for the spirit to be named. This is the day of revelation on which it is disclosed whether it is or is not a spirit. It gives a demonic name that no one knows, and when it does so all are much pleased.

  The seventh day is the day of release. A goat is slaughtered on the shore, and all the spirits come together to drink the goat’s blood. If anyone does not drink the blood, he is not possessed. When they see the others drinking the blood, the spirits rise into the heads of those into whose heads they have not yet risen. After drinking the blood, the spirit is carried home cured.

  The Customs of the Swahili People Mtoro bin Winyi Bakari.

  This treatment for colic was witnessed by von Höhnel during his and Count Teleki’s expedition to Lake Rudolf in 1892–3.

  A man died during the march, and we had to doctor another for violent colic. The general mode amongst the people of caravans of treating colic is to lay the sufferer on the ground with outstretched legs, then to fasten the feet together above the ankles with a strip of stuff, pass a stick through the stuff and turn it round and round till the patient gives vent to terrible screams of agony. When he leaves off crying out the Prophet’s name, to which he volubly adds some half dozen of his most familiar attributes, he is released from the rack, by which time he is always quite cured, as we ourselves witnessed in more than a hundred cases.

  The Discovery of Lakes Rudolf and Stefanie Ludwig von Höhnel.

  Kikuyu surgery.

  The edges of the wound are drawn together, and held in that position with the fingers of the left hand, while with the right a bull-dog ant is picked up and held so that the jaws grip one on each side of the wound; the body of the ant is then twisted off, while the head still remains, tenaciously holding on to the flesh. From this habit of holding on they have acquired the name of bull-dog. The Kikuyu did not make any such use of these ants, though their method of sewing up wounds was scarcely less primitive. In their case the edges of the wound were drawn together and a long thorn run through both. A fine thread, made of fibre from the bark of certain trees, is then wound over both ends of the thorn, in the same way that sailors wind the spare ends of ropes round the cleats. The thorn is left in place till the wound heals, and then drawn out in the same way that a surgeon removes the stitches after more civilized operations.

  John Boyes, King of the Wa-kik
uyu, ed. C. W. L. Bulpett.

  To be barren was a woman’s worst affliction, leading to rejection, shame and often to the status of a beggar.

  It will be recalled that my aunt, The Beautiful One, had been barren for a long time until she met Karanja. Her first husband had consulted many Kikuyu medicine-men in an attempt to find out why she did not have children, but had found no remedy. In all this time my aunt was very unhappy indeed. Her husband became ashamed and began to ill-treat her. He would shout angrily:

  “What’s wrong with you, you skinny barren woman? I wasted the dowry which I paid to your parents.”

  Later, my aunt married Karanja and explained her difficulties to him. Karanja was sympathetic, loving, and would have done anything to help her. He was certain that the famous medicine-men of Fort Hall could find a cure.

  In a village opposite Karanja’s home and across the River Kayahwe there was a famous and powerful medicine-man called Kimani. His fees were higher than those of other medicine-men, but Karanja decided to consult him. His elder brother was a friend of Kimani and so they went together.

  Kimani insisted that the whole family history must be known to him before he treated his patient. A close relative, Nyutu, was summoned.

  When he came, Nyutu told my aunt’s story, even mentioning the woman who had cooked the ram at my aunt’s circumcision ceremony. Kimani stopped him at that point and pointed his long gourd towards Mount Kenya to the north, Mount Nyandarwa to the west, Kilima-Mbogo to the south-east, and then poured down some mbugu (seeds). He asked Karanja, his brother, and Nyutu to count them. There were four.

  “The woman was related to your wife’s family but she was angry while she was cooking the meat.”

  “What did she do?” asked Karanja.

  “While she was cooking the meat she took a small piece of meat and tied it secretly in her leather skirt. Later, she buried the meat at the foot of a tree near the village, pretending that she was burying your wife’s future children and this is why your wife is barren.”

  “What can be done?” asked Karanja eagerly.

  “We must re-enact your wife’s circumcision ceremony. First, you must get a spotless fat ram which my helpers and I will strangle in your yard. We shall then roast some of the meat. The rest will be cooked by a man of your wife’s clan who will bury a piece under a fig tree. She will do this alone, secretly, but we shall later ask her to take us where the meat is hidden. The woman will dig up the meat which represents your wife’s children and give it to us. We shall then return to your home where I shall bless the meat and throw it under your wife’s bed. This ceremony is very important and it should be done after your wife’s menstruation is over,” Kimani explained.

  A day was fixed for the ceremony and Karanja, his brother, and Nyutu returned home, satisfied by Kimani’s interpretation. On the way, Nyutu told Karanja that the woman responsible for my aunt’s misfortune had always been ill-treated by her husband and had eventually committed suicide.

  Now the whole story was clear and Karanja and my aunt were ready for the “purification” which is called “Kuhakwo ng’ondu”. Kimani and his two aides arrived and performed the ceremony as planned, smearing oil from the fat tail of the strangled ram on the legs, hips, hands, face, and neck of my aunt. After only a few weeks my aunt conceived! It was exciting, incredible, and thrilling. I did not myself attend the ceremony but I know they believed completely in Kimani’s diagnosis and that he was responsible for the cure.

  Death and its sequel.

  The fact that the Kikuyu did not bury their dead does not mean that they did not revere them. On the contrary, the Kikuyu believed in the continued existence of the spirits or “ngoma” of the dead. The body might be destroyed by fire or eaten by wild dogs, but the spirit did not perish. Only the spirit of a man was important after his death, and in fact if a body was not eaten up by the animals it was assumed that the dead man had not been a good-natured person. It was therefore said that sorcerers would not be eaten by the hyenas who are themselves scavengers and the lowest of animals, as even they would recognize the evil in these men and reject their bodies although their spirits had left them.

  It was also believed that whenever a sorcerer had killed a man by his witchcraft he would follow the relatives of the dead person into the bush, taking infinite care that they did not discover his presence. After the relatives had left, the sorcerer would go immediately to the body, before the animals had time to discover it, and would cut a piece of flesh from the dead one. He would then burn the flesh and mix the ashes with his poison to add more “power” to his poison….

  One day a boy of one of our friends in Stoton died suddenly in the evening hours. Mwando and Kimani were called at once. They suggested that the boy’s body should not be sent into the bush right away, but that it should be kept at a distance of about one mile from the village. The plan was that a group of young men armed with pangas should accompany Mwando, Kimani, and the boy’s relatives to the spot where the dead boy’s body was so that they could sit there under the bush and see whether they could catch the sorcerer. They also hoped that they would bring the dead boy home alive! This sounds pretty fantastic, but the rumour had it that before a sorcerer cuts a piece of flesh from his victim he first of all has to bring the dead person to life again, ask him or her several questions such as: “Who brought you here?” “Would you like to curse your people?” and then order: “Do not look at me.” The sorcerer would then re-poison the person, cut some flesh, and go away.

  They thought that they would wait until the sorcerer brought the boy back to life and when questioning started, capture him instantly. Mwando, Kimani, and the rest of the young men sat down silently as if they were soldiers near the enemy line. Unfortunately, no sorcerer appeared. They sat there for hours, and at about three in the morning they went home leaving the dead body behind. At about eleven in the morning some young men went there to see the boy’s body. On their arrival at the place they found the dead boy’s body had been cut! This accelerated the fear among people tremendously. Many people decided to leave Stoton for some neighbouring farms.

  Child of Two Worlds Mugo Gatheru.

  Among the Maasai.

  On the death of a child, or a warrior, or a woman amongst the Masai, the body is thrown away, and the person’s name is buried, i.e. it is never again mentioned by the family. Should there be anything which is called by that name, it is given another name which is not like that of the deceased.

  For instance, if an unimportant person called Ol-onana (he who is soft, or weak, or gentle) were to die, gentleness would not be called en-nanai in that kraal, as it is the name of a corpse, but it would be called by another name, such as epolpol (it is smooth). And if anybody of that kraal were to ask for news of the great medicine-man Ol-onana, he would call him Ol-opolpol.

  If an elder dies leaving children, his name is not buried, for his descendants are named after him.

  When old men or women die, they are not wept for, nor are they thrown away like others who die young. New sandals are made, a sheep is slaughtered, the fat is roasted, and the body anointed. After this the corpse is carried to a shady place, where a bullock is slaughtered, and all the meat is eaten on the spot. The bones of the bullock are left with the body so that the hyenas may smell it, and come and carry it away, and devour it.

  On the death of a Masai medicine-man or rich person the corpse is not thrown away. An ox or a sheep is slaughtered, and the fat is taken and rubbed on the body, after which it is put in an ox-hide and carried to a shady spot. A small hole is then dug resembling a trench, into which the body is laid and covered with stones. This is called a grave.

  The Masai: Their Language and Folklore A. C. Hollis.

  Religion and Magic

  During a visit to Mount Elgon in 1925, Dr Carl Jung questioned elders of the Elgonyi people about their religion.

  At the end of that palaver an old man had suddenly exclaimed, “In the morning, when the sun comes, we go out of t
he huts, spit into our hands, and hold them up to the sun.” I had him show me the ceremony and describe it exactly. They held their hands in front of their mouths, spat or blew vigorously, then turned the palms upwards towards the sun. I asked what this meant, why they blew or spat into their hands. My questioning was in vain. “We’ve always done it,” they said. It was impossible to obtain any explanation, and I realized that they actually knew only that they did it, not what they were doing. They themselves saw no meaning in this action. But we, too, perform ceremonies without realizing what we are doing – such as lighting Christmas tree candles, hiding Easter eggs, etc.

  The old man said that this was the true religion of all peoples, that all Kevirondos, all Buganda, all tribes for as far as the eye could see from the mountain and endlessly farther, worshipped adhísta – that is, the sun at the moment of rising. Only then was the sun mungu, God. The first delicate golden crescent of the new moon in the purple of the western sky was also God. But only at that time; otherwise not.