Chapter 17

CHAPTER XVII WAR—THE SHEDDING OF BLOOD—THE SCAPEGOAT Before warriors start on the war-path, it is customary to offer a sacrifice to the chief fetish of the town. All the inhabitants join in this ceremony, and afterwards each of the chosen band submits himself to the “ Shot and Matchet Juju,” the principal rites of which consist in the priest rubbing magic leaves over the whole body of the warrior, in order to render him invulnerable, and a black Juju powder over his face to make him invisible to his opponents. When each had been protected in this way, another ceremony was performed. A great “ medicine ” was made and a fresh sacrifice offered, during the slaying of which the priest called upon the “ soul names ” of the strongest and most famous warriors among the enemy, adjuring these to leave their bodies and come at his bidding ; so that in the day of battle they might be soulless, and therefore powerless to fight. In the war-shed at Ikot Ibiuk, a village near Eket, may be seen a section of tree-trunk, hollowed bowl-wise, some three feet in diameter and encircled by a string of buffalo skulls. Medicines mixed, according to my informant, of magic leaves, human blood and that of buffaloes—the latter regarded hereabouts as the symbol of brute strength —was poured therein, and of this potion each warrior was given to drink before starting out for the scene of action. On the conclusion of the rites, the band of fighting men form into line, and without word spoken, start straight for the enemy’s town. From necks and wrists hang many charms : leopard claws in chains or pendants to give courage and skill, and little bags containing magic roots 233 and leaves to act as an additional talisman against bullets. Fish-eagle feathers, too, are sometimes worn by chiefs, as a means of acquiring the strength and keen vision of these sacred birds. As the band of warriors march through the town, they must pass along without saluting any woman whom they chance to meet. Neither may they look backwards, nor still less return, even a few steps, on any pretext whatever. The tabu on food is recorded in the last chapter ; here, therefore, it is enough to say that, as among the Dyaks,1 so Ibibio warriors never eat “ soft food,” such as pumpkin or soup, and, while on the march, must avoid the dwelling- place of any woman. Neither may they pass through water which women use either as a bathing or washing place ; but, if it is impossible to avoid this altogether by making a detour, must march for a considerable distance up stream before crossing. While on the road no one may touch any part of a warrior’s body, lest contact with another under the protection of a different " medicine ” should counteract the effect of his own. Here, however, there is no law against a man himself touching his head or indeed any limb. If bitten by insects, or suffering irritation from skin disease or other cause, it is forbidden to scratch the part, “ lest even so small a sound should betray your presence to an enemy. All that is permitted is to lay a hand softly upon the spot.” So soon as the first shots are heard, it is allowable, as an extra safeguard, to chew some of the magic roots or leaves with which the little wallet-shaped amulets are filled; but this must on no account be done before the firing starts, otherwise the transgressor will go mad and lose himself amid his enemies. When the smoke of the battle grows so dense that it is no longer possible to see the foe clearly from a distance, men drop their guns and rush into the thick of the fight, armed only with sword or matchet, but secure that no harm can befall them since the Juju has made them invulnerable. Should a man become wounded in spite of all safeguards, the misfortune is explained by a supposed breach of Juju 1 Haddon, op. cit. p. io. law inadvertently committed, or by the superior power of the enemy’s magic. In such a case, instead of washing the wound with hot water as was the usual custom, the native doctor used to go into the bush and cut a stick the size of the gash. This substitute was washed and tended as though it were the real wound, until by sympathetic magic the injured flesh grew whole. At times, instead of a stick another part of the body was treated as if the wound were there ; for instance, should a gash have been made in the thigh an arm would probably be chosen for attention. Not long ago, at ’Ndiya, one of the Juju Images slashed at the head of a woman named Adiaha Udaw Anwa, cutting it twice in the form of a rough cross. The native doctor tried to cure her, for the injury was very grave. To do this he first tied a soft rope round her forehead; then dipped a cloth in hot water and held it to the base of the back and pit of the stomach. Medicine was also rubbed upon her neck. The real wound was left untouched, save that occasionally a feather was dipped in oil and drawn lightly over the dried blood to soften it.1 The woman was healed but the scars are clearly to be seen. Before an engagement, scouts are sometimes sent forward, secretly, to a place through which the enemy is expected to pass. Arrived there, they sprinkle “ medicine ” upon the leaves and ground, and so soon as this comes in contact with the skin of the hostile warriors, even the bravest and most hardened begin to shout and howl with pain. Men are said to have gone mad from the irritation thus produced. Perhaps it may be well to mention here a personal experience which seems to show the possibility of such a measure. During my first tour in Africa, while I served as Assistant Commissioner on the Anglo-Liberian Boundary Commission, our way took us through thick bush in the as yet unexplored interior. Some strange-looking fruits hung from a liane not far from the line of march, and I picked one in order to examine it. Hardly had this been done than my gun-boy flung everything down, and seizing 1 Cf. A late Discourse ... by Sir Kenelm Digby, Kt., Touching the Cure of Wounds by the Powder of Sympathy (1658). my arm, shook it so suddenly and violently that the fruit dropped from my grasp. Others hurried up and, as I did not understand their language, made signs that I must wash. It was growing late and I wished to press on, so thought that it would be better to wait till we came to the next stream rather than go back to one passed a few minutes before. The men, however, positively dragged me back, and even before the brink was reached, the reason of their solicitude was made plain. My hand began to burn and smart unendurably, and I was glad enough to thrust it into the water. The attendants took up handfuls of sand from the bed and violently scrubbed the palm, afterwards binding it up in cool wet leaves. This treatment probably saved the hand and possibly the arm also, for when we reached camp I was told that the poison was so virulent that hand and arm would have become inflamed, and had there been the least scratch might even have mortified. This may have been an exaggeration, but certainly there was no doubt as to the intense irritation produced by handling the fruit. According to Chief Daniel Henshaw the Oronn method of warfare differs somewhat from that of neighbouring tribes. “ In 1880,” he said, “ fighting broke out between the towns of Afaha Esuk and Ikonor, and this continued till 1902 when Government sent an Expedition to stop them. Sometimes for weeks not a gun was fired on either side. A favourite method of attack was to choose out some compound at a distance from all others. A path was then cut through the thick bush, almost up to the house but screened from it. There a small force of the enemy waited until one of the male inhabitants was seen to leave his dwelling. Sometimes a chief went forth to bathe in the stream near by. A gun sounded from out the bush, and he fell dead, while the enemy ran away by the secret path tfiey had made, knowing that the townsfolk were not likely to find this unless they stumbled upon it by accident. Often after such a catastrophe the dead man’s kin would gather weeping round the corpse, and thus give their foes a further chance to shoot. No women were killed during war-time, so it was customary for the wives of a chief to surround him in a protective ring, whether sitting or sleeping in his house, or going to farm. “ A favourite plan for obtaining intelligence was to bribe some neutral town by means of money or cattle to bring news should they hear that any of the chief foemen were likely to be coming along a certain road on a fixed date. Then, on the homeward way, shots would ring out from a hidden enemy, and their town would welcome them no more. “ In the night time, too, a small band would often creep ' up to a house, the inmates of which all lay sleeping, and start to pour water at a certain spot upon the mud wall of one of the outside rooms. When this had been done they were able to dig away the soft clay with their fingers, soundlessly and little by little, until a hole was made large enough to look through and find out where the head of that particular family lay. After ascertaining this, they inserted the muzzle of a gun and fired. It is to guard against such a fate that even now, when Oronn Chiefs build a compound, they usually make the principal sleeping- room right in the centre, with thick, low, mud walls built as a protection on either side of the couch.” To guard a path in war-time, the hand and arm of an enemy were usually cut off and suspended from a tree at the junction with the main thoroughfare. People did not venture along a road thus guarded. A further protection was to hew down big branches and lay these across the entrance. Occasionally a cut stone was borne from the Juju-house and erected in the middle of the path, with round ones at its base. Goats were then sacrificed and their blood poured over the stones, while the names of dead members of the principal “ societies ” of the village or settlement to be guarded were called upon to act as sentinels. When one town decides to make war upon another, the inhabitants send two men to lay a plantain leaf upon the road before the enemy’s town. On this, little piles of powder, shot, and caps are laid as a declaration of hostilities. During our last tour a similar intimation, with the addition of a small gun, carved from wood, was sent to the Commissioner in charge of a neighbouring District, as a sign that a section of his people declared war upon him. Along the Cross River, kola nuts, salt, and pepper were all used as warnings of the outbreak of danger. Hereabouts kola nuts are usually formed in four sections, one of which is called the “ head ” and another the " tail.” Should a man threatened by some peril come to the house of a friend who has been bound by oath not to disclose the danger, the host, in presenting the usual offering of kola nuts, holds them in his outstretched hand—the “ head ” towards the wrist, the “ tail ” towards the fingers, thus pointing in the direction of the visitor, and the other two sections cross-wise, one on each side. “ When the guest is a wise man, he looks carefully at such an offering and notices which way the nuts lie. Should they be placed as described above, he calls to mind that the dead are always borne feet first, so grasps the meaning of the sign. In such a case he at once hurries home along a different road from that by which he came, so as to avoid the enemies lurking to kill him on his return journey. “ Often women born of a hostile town or family fear to give their husbands a direct warning as to threatened danger lest they might later be accused of so doing by their own people and be unable to clear themselves of the charge by swearing the contrary on their native Juju, and so escaping vengeance. In such a case a wife cooks for her husband but puts no salt in the food. When the man eats, he sometimes gets annoyed and says : ‘ You have forgotten to put salt in my chop ! Go and bring this at once.’ The woman stands with folded arms, saying nothing, bat looking very fixedly upon her mate, and not making the least motion to obey. “ Then, if the husband is a clever man, he will read the meaning of her behaviour ; but if not, he will call again, more angrily : ‘ Do you not hear ? I tell you to bring salt ! ’ Slowly, slowly, the woman fetches it, but will not put it in ; so the man is forced to do this for himself. Should she sleep with him that night, sometimes she sighs softly through the darkness : ‘ Did I ever forget to put salt in your chop before ? ’ Then at length, if he is in the least wise, he will understand ; but if not, on the morrow, she brings saltless food again. After this, unless he is unusually stupid, he will see that it means : ‘ Danger threatens. Flee away.’ “ Such, among our people, is the sign of the salt. Should a man be very fond of pepper, this is sometimes omitted in the same way and with like meaning.” So long as fighting continued, the old people left at home came out daily upon their verandahs and there made the “ war juju of the aged ” ; praying all the time for the success of their warriors. Till peace had been proclaimed, no old man might partake of any food left over from the day before, but this tabu did not apply to women. Save among the North-eastern Ibibio, where no notice was usually given, fighting generally started at the boundary on a day fixed by the two parties. All men taken were killed and their heads struck off and carried home. In most regions on the capture of a town it was sacked and burnt, and the children were seized and often sold into slavery, while the women usually experienced the same fate. The weapons in common use were Dane guns and matchets ; in addition the Eket and Northern Ibibio employed spears, and some of the latter bows and unpoisoned arrows. When one of the parties wished to make peace, they sent some friend from a neutral town, or one of their own men, clothed in palm-leaves and white baft, and holding “ Alligator ” peppers in his hand, to the enemy. If the proposal was accepted, both sides met on the boundary and sacrificed a goat and dog and sometimes a cow. A chief from another town often divided a palm-leaf among the parties. As a rule women were not allowed to be present on such an occasion. The old rule of a life for a life still holds good among Ibibio, and so firmly do they believe in the right of the relatives of a man who has been killed to exact the death of some member of the slayer’s family, that they speak of it in open court as though even white man’s law and justice must concede them this. Such a case came before me at Idua Oronn on August 12, 1913. During the course of the trial Ekkpoikwaw of Edikpo stated on oath, in substance, as follows : “ There was a land case between my family and that of Okong ’Nye Utip. The matter was taken to the Supreme Court, but before the case was decided one side went to cut palm trees on the disputed land. So fighting began. Accused’s brother was wounded and afterwards died. This was about five years ago. The other side came and reported to the District Commissioner that our people had killed a man, and they therefore claimed one to kill in exchange, or goods to the same value, according to custom. The District Commissioner refused their request. About two months ago accused again said he wanted to kill a man in our family. So we have brought the case before you.” Okong ’Nye Utip stated : “ I called upon plaintiff’s family to supply us with a girl to marry into our family. It was not we who waked up the case again. The other side sent a message to Chief Ekpe Eyo of Eyo Udaw to ask him to say to my family : ‘ Towns used to fight together and then make peace. How much more so when one family fought another! ’ We sent to them saying : ‘ Before we make peace, you must send us a girl.’ According to old custom when such an one was sent, so soon as she had grown up, she was married to one of the family. Then her son was given the name of the dead man and succeeded to all his property. When, however, prosecutor’s family heard our request, they answered : ‘You may send us to heaven above before we give you a girl! ’ More also they said : ‘We are ready to take any oath that it was not we who killed your brother.” A very celebrated warrior medicine man, about whose brave deeds many legends have arisen, was Akanam of Ikot Udaw Ede. So strong was this hero reported to be, that it is said he could lay his hands upon a palm tree by the water-side and bend it till the crown of leaves swept the ground. After performing this feat, Akanam would take a stone and pour over it the blood of a white fowl and of a bush squirrel. He then laid the stone in running water near to the bank. Then when a band of the enemy passed by, the tree would spring up, scattering death and destruction among them. The story of the death of this warrior and of his bearing off to the land of Abassi on the wings of the birds of the air is almost identical with that of Ebiribong given on page 114. From the spot where he lay before the birds raised him sprang the Cotton Tree of Ikot Udaw Ede. Chief Inaw of Ikotobo declares that in this case his own grandfather was present, and testified to the truth of the heavenward ascent of Akanam. The rule as to the conduct of Oronn warfare was much like that regulating a game, for peace was not supposed to be concluded until exactly the same number of people had been killed on both sides. “ The reason why the fight between Ikonor and Afaha Esuk went on so long was that the first-named town killed so many enemies during the first skirmishes, and the longer the fight continued more and more fell to their guns. When Government tried to bring about the cessation of hostilities, the men of Afaha Esuk answered stubbornly : ‘ No ! Not until an equal number have been slain on their side.’ If one of the parties failed to inflict the same loss upon the enemy, peace could only be bought by paying heavy compensation. When a town was taken it was either burnt or razed to the ground, while all women and children were sold into slavery. Even the land on which to build a new town had to be ransomed back from the conquerors. “ For the peace ceremony both sides brought a goat and a dog in sacrifice. The head of the first was struck off, but a sharpened stake was driven through the dog’s jaws from beneath. The goat’s head was then transfixed on the same stick, which was thereupon hung up so that the wretched dog died by slow torture. “ Medicine leaves were spread upon the ground. Upon this bed a quantity of eggs were laid and the blood of the goats sprinkled over all. The chief men from both parties then came forward, and bending down on opposite sides of the barrier, crushed eggs, leaves, and blood together in their hands, and with the mixture smeared the faces of their R whilom foes, saying : ‘ To-day we make peace together. We must not see one another’s blood any more.’ “ After this they divided the flesh of the goats and many other things which had been cooked meantime. Then they ate, drank, sang and were glad because the war was over.” After such a ceremony each warrior went back to his town bearing the heads of those whom he had slain. At every stream which he crossed on the way home, he had to pause and bathe, then rub medicine over himself “ to stay the avenging power of the blood which was shed.” Without conforming to this purification, he might neither enter his house nor approach any of his wives. Blood itself is supposed to have strange efficacy, reminding one of that dread libation guarded by the sword of mighty Odysseus, from which the wraiths of friends and companions, long dead, drew force and voice with which to speak to him. Blood is the great strength-giver, the great fertiliser. When Ibeno youths of good family came to man’s estate it was customary until quite late years to kill a slave and place the severed head in the hands of the young heir, that he might lick up the fresh-flowing blood. In olden days human blood, as the greatest of all fertilisers, was shed in floods at the time of the new yam planting, and what may well be a survival of this custom is still carried out by Oronn on the occasion of the feast of Abassi Isua, i.e. the god of the year.1 Now that human victims are forbidden, and only the lives of animals may be taken for this purpose, many a strange observance has been substituted. For instance, not long ago a rich husbandman, named Ishi, cut a small piece from the lobe of a poor man’s ear and drew therefrom a few drops of blood to pour out before the god of the new farms. The man was well paid for the slight mutilation, and seemed more than content. A similar ceremony was carried out at the festival of the Aztec maize-goddess Chicomecohuatl, during which blood was also drawn from the ears of her votaries. “ The blood so drawn was kept in vessels, which were not scoured, so that a dry crust formed over it.” 2 1 See p. 267. a Sir James Frazer, The Scapegoat, pp. 292, 294. With regard to this latter point it may perhaps be worth mentioning that among the Juju objects of a celebrated fetish priest condemned to penal servitude at the Assizes for an attempt on my life a little lustre jug was found. All lustre ware, according to Mary Kingsley, was set apart as sacred to “ Juju,” and this particular vessel was said to have been dipped in the blood of each fresh victim and then left to dry. It was never cleaned, and only after hours of soaking, followed by vigorous scrubbing, could the many layers be removed and the original surface be brought to view. When Ibibjo men are wounded, whether in fighting or otherwise, tradition bids them hide the flow of blood from the eyes of any woman, that none of these may see strength ebb away from the dominant male. After the wound has dried over, it does not matter so much for a woman to see it. There is no reason why men should not witness the lifeblood flow from the veins of a woman, however. All things feminine are, comparatively, of such little account that it cannot matter for a man to behold one of this inferior sex reduced to the utmost point of weakness and feebleness. Human blood is looked upon as a great protection both from poison and from ghosts. The best way of using it is to mix it with Juju medicine and then rub this into a small cut made in the body of the man seeking safety. Thus guarded, whether he walks by day or night, neither poisons nor ghosts have power to harm him. With the same intent blood is mixed with the ghost-powder which is rubbed on the forehead, slightly above the junction of the brows, and also between the thumb and first finger of each hand. As a general rule sacrificial animals are killed by having their throats cut. The body is then dragged round so that the blood sprinkles all the ground. In the case of a goat, two men usually swing and shake it so that the blood falls not only upon the earth but is splashed over the fetish itself. Before most Jujus to which prayers for health are made, some of the blood of the fowls sacrificed is poured upon the head of the petitioner with the words, “ Efera fi ” (Be cold), i.e. “ May you be free from fever ! ” During some rites the blood of the sacrifices is also sprinkled over the feet of the spectators. Those warriors who play the Ekong (war) play before setting forth for battle pour goat’s blood into a bowl and drink it, because by so doing they hope to imbibe new strength and valour ; while, as already described, the most solemn oaths are sworn upon the ’Mbiam Juju, part of the ceremony of which consists in drinking palm-wine into which a few drops of blood from each of the contracting parties has been poured.1 This oath is often administered to a band of warriors before setting forth for battle in order to guard against treason in their ranks. On return from a successful campaign, Efik used to bury the skulls of slain enemies in the black mud and ooze of some swamp, then set a sign to mark the spot. After several months had passed by, they went back and dug up the gruesome trophies, washed them clean and brought them home to the town. To celebrate this a great play was given : guns were fired, and there was much singing and rejoicing. Each woman carried a piece of chalk, and, as a warrior drew near, he held out his arms to her, the hands straight and palms downward. With the chalk she drew a line from shoulder to finger-tips, calling out “ Ekong Umioko ! ” i.e. “ The war is finished ! ” to show her joy at the home-coming. The man repeated “ Umioko ! ” “ It is finished ! ” Among other Ibibio it was usual to boil the heads of slain enemies in a pot, then scrape off all flesh and keep the skull in the house as a trophy of valour, to be set, in the end, upon the grave of the victor. Many such trophies are to be seen near Itak. Head-hunting is common over the greater part of Central and Eastern Nigeria, and there can be little doubt that the youthful desire to join the club of the Ubio Owo, or men-killers, which in some regions, especially among the Eastern Ibo, possessed a greater prestige than any other, was the cause of many “ wars.” A skull was also necessary for membership in the 1 See p. 46. principal secret societies. So valuable are they that where a grave is not considered safe against desecration, it is carefully hidden.1 Among most Ibibio a war dance and play were given as soon as the skulls had been cleaned ; sacrifices were made to the latter, apparently as an inducement to the slain warrior to bring his friends, in order that they might meet the same fate. In the north-west, however, no offering was made to the skull till the death of its owner. Should the slayer find that the ghost of the slain is very strong and is haunting him to his hurt, he offers a dog to the manes of his foe. If this sacrifice proves unavailing, he catches a male lizard, and, with this carefully caged, goes to a place where cross-roads meet. There, by the wayside, he makes a tiny gallows, and taking out the substitute from its prison, passes it three times round his head, crying : “ Here I give you a man instead of me. Take him and leave me free.” After this he places a thin loop of tie-tie round the neck of the lizard and hangs it upon the miniature gallows. The principle of the scapegoat indeed is well known among this people. At Edebom near Etinan, for instance, before the new farms are planted, hunters assemble and go out to trap a bush cat. When one has been caught, the townsfolk are called together. A sacrifice is offered before the assembled company ; the animal is then held on high and passed round the head of each inhabitant in turn, with the words : “ Mfinn nyinn ibaw kpru-kpru afanikong ke obio nyinn,” i.e. “ To-day we take all trouble from our town.” After this a fowl and goat are brought forward. From the ears of the latter and of the bush cat small pieces are cut and a few drops of blood from each drained into the Juju pot—after which all three animals are driven forth into the bush, bearing with them the sins of the town. This method, though neither so romantic, tragic, nor humorous as those described in Sir James Frazer’s Scapegoat—that wonderful volume of a stupendous work— had, at least, not the ill effect resulting from the method employed by the lady of King Dandaki ! 2 1 See p. 149. 3 Scapegoat, p. 41. Several other instances of passing an offering round the head before sacrificing it have been found among Ibibio. In some cases this is done with fowls, which calls to mind that, among the Talmud Jews of Poland, “ On the day preceding the day of atonement a cock is swung round the head of each male, and a hen round the head of each female, and then killed and eaten as an expiatory offering to redeem the sinner from death.” 1 Another way of driving out evil influences was practised among the Efik of Henshaw Town, Calabar. On the eve of the native New Year the townsfolk used to play the play called Edi Tuak ’Ndokk. In preparation for this, images formed of grass and bound round with mats of plaited rushes were prepared. These effigies were named ’Nabi- kum, and at least one of them was tied against every verandah. The Reverend Hope-Waddell, in describing the ceremony as performed in his day, states that the images were often in animal form. Chief Daniel Henshaw, on the contrary, has never seen any but what he calls “ Judases,” i.e. Guy Fawkes-like figures roughly resembling human beings. It is possible that the earlier effigies represented family “ affinities ” or totemistic animals. His account of the ceremony, which he had often witnessed, but which has now been suppressed, runs as follows : “ At about two o’clock on the last night of the old year the inhabitants of each compound ran round it, calling : Ete mio ! Eka mio ! Father mine! Mother mine! Ekkpo yakk onyon! Ekkpo yakk onyon / Devils must go! Devils must go! Gongs were played, ‘ poom, poom ! ’ Torches were lighted and the burning wood knocked against the walls in every corner, while the cry, ‘ Devils must go,’ was ceaselessly called. Each pot and pan was beaten that none of the spirits might find shelter behind it, but all the old year’s evil ghosts should be driven forth to perish, and the whole town be freed from their influence, and remain quiet and prosperous throughout the new year. 1 Featherman, Social History of the Races of Mankind, iii. p. 407. “ Next morning every scrap of cooked food or drop of drink left over from the night before had to be thrown away, together with any cracked or broken pans and the sticks used for driving forth the devils. The 'Nabikum were burnt, and their ashes strewn to the four winds. Then all the compounds were swept clean, the water jars refilled and a play given, in which the whole town joined. Next night a heavy rain was said to fall without fail, and this was called in the language of Calabar, Ukpori ikpatt ekkpo. Sweep feet devils.”