Jouk the creator made a great white cow which emerged from the waters of the Nile and then gave birth to human children, of whom the last was Okwa. Okwa once saw two maidens come out of the water on the riverbank and desired them. They had beautiful long hair like humans, but in the bottom half of their bodies they were crocodiles. Okwa tried to approach them, but they escaped. After several attempts he caught them. They called to their father, who emerged from the water. Their father was human on the left side and crocodile-shaped on the right. After some discussion he agreed to give his daughters to Okwa.
The elder was Nyakay, and she gave birth to Nyikang and several other children, a boy and three girls. The younger, Ungwad, gave birth to a son named Ju. And by a later marriage Okwa fathered Duwat.
Nyikang and Duwat were the principal contenders for rule when Okwa died. After a fierce struggle Nyikang and his siblings left the country. As they left, Duwat threw a digging stick at Nyikang, and told him to use it to bury his people. Nyikang went south along the river, and there Nyikang found a wife, by whom he had a son named Dak. There also he made himself a kingdom. He made humans out of the crocodiles and hippopotamuses. When the new people had produced children, he caused the parents, the transformed animals, to die, so that the secret of their origins would remain hidden. At that time humans and crocodiles were friends, since they were relations through marriage; children would climb on a basking crocodile and all would call her familiarly ‘my grandmother’. But one day Nyikang’s son Dak killed the offspring of the crocodile, and then he roasted and ate them. When the crocodiles went looking for their offspring, Dak said he had cooked them. Then Nyakay’s mother complained to Nyakay that her human offspring had killed their crocodile cousins. From that time it comes that crocodiles remain in the water and kill humans when they try to cross the river or when they come to drink, and humans will kill crocodiles when they find them outside the water. Nyakay resumed her crocodile form and returned to the waters; she has not died. Humans do not make offerings to her; she takes what she wants.
Dak made other enemies in Nyikang’s new kingdom. He competed with his cousin Dim. Dim hid fire away, so people could not cook; Dak retaliated by making all the people blind. Then Dim succeeded in holding back the rain. Dak make Dim’s cattle blind until the rains fell again on his field: thus he made enemies of his uncles. Fearing what would happen if Dak ruled after Nyikang, the uncles plotted to kill Dak during a dance ceremony. Nyikang was informed of the plot and made a wooden figurine representing Dak, and Dak placed some of his possessions about it. The uncles came, stabbed the figurine, and ran off. Nyikang mourned the death of his son and engaged in all the appropriate customs: for four days all the people of the village stayed inside, and then they gathered to end the mourning by singing and dancing. When the uncles came out, Dak reappeared and the uncles ran off in terror.
Nyikang moved to another land, and settled. In one place, he came against the sudd, the great swamp of the Nile, where the passage was blocked. But an albino man offered himself as a sacrifice. Nyikang speared him, the sudd broke up, and they were able to pass through. Every time he settled in a new place he would sacrifice a calf. Eventually Nyikang’s cow decided to run away; she did not want to keep losing her offspring. She left Nyikang’s territory and came to the land of the sun and joined the herds of the cattle of the Sun. Nyikang sent Ojul the hawk to find his cow, and Ojul found her among the cattle of the Sun. But when he asked Garo, son of the Sun, about Nyikang’s cow, Garo denied that there were any strange cows among his herds. So Ojul returned to Nyikang and told him what he had found, and Nyikang sent his son Dak with an army to retrieve the cow.
Dak came against Garo; Garo was very tall and wore heavy silver bracelets. Dak defeated Garo and took the bracelets. But the army of the Sun rallied and defeated Dak and his men; they lay on the field. Nyikang came himself to the battle; he struck the Sun with an adze, so that it was wounded and fled into the sky. Then Nyikang sprinkled water over the dead and touched them with the silver bracelets, and they came back to life. Then Dak and the other men drove the herds of cattle back to the Shilluk country.
After Nyikang, Dak ruled in the Shilluk country, and then other kings. The lineage of Nyikang is still of importance in the annual movements of the cattle from one pasturage to another, because the cattle must get across the river and are then in danger from the crocodiles. But the descendants of Nyikang maintain a kinship with the crocodiles, and so they will intercede to allow the herds safe passage.
24
THE LUO OF SUDAN AND UGANDA
The term ‘Luo’ or ‘Lwoo’ covers a number of groups who are the southern extension of the Nilotic (or Nilo-Saharan) family of languages; the groups are found in the southern Sudan, and northern Uganda and Kenya, where they interacted with other populations to help form the rich cultures of this fertile area. The Luo contribution seems to have been principally cattle, a form of subsistence which they share with the northern groups such as the Shilluk, the Nuer and the Dinka. Luo lineages took over the kingship in Bunyoro (forming the Bito dynasty). Elsewhere, however, the groups do not seem to have formed centralized states. The stories are retold from versions collected in the twentieth century by missionaries and by a Ugandan scholar.
THE ORIGIN OF DEATH
When humans went down to the earth and spread out in their various livelihoods, Death began his work among them and they died all over. Nsasaye, looking down from the sky, took pity on them and sent down a message that if they would furnish him with a sacrificial offering of pure white fat, he would stop the ravages of death.
As by then all the people had lost a loved one to Death, they quickly agreed to accept the terms of Nsasaye’s offer. They chose the fattest ram and cut it up; they carefully cut out the rich fat from the haunches and the tail and wrapped them carefully in leaves and the hide so that they would stay clean. Then they contrived a great pole which stretched from the earth up into the sky, and they selected a messenger to climb the pole: the chameleon.
On the way up the pole, however, the chameleon’s feet broke open the package as it swung from its strap on his shoulders, and the feet also soiled the fat. So when it presented the offering to Nsasaye, Nsasaye saw only a bruised and sullied packet of dirty fat. Outraged, he decreed that death would continue to afflict humans.
THE SPEAR AND THE BEAD
This story appears to be the central myth of origin of the Luo peoples, explaining their division and distribution, and numerous versions have been collected. The story also appears in clan legends of the Baganda.
The woman Nyilak became pregnant and gave birth eventually to three sons: Nyabongo, Gipir and Gifol. She lived with her husband and her sons, and they grew up. Nyabongo eventually went off to other parts; he passed into Bunyoro and established the Bito dynasty there. Gipir and Gifol stayed with their mother, herding cattle and raising vegetables and millet on the floodplains.
At that time, Gifol possessed an ornate spear which was used in rituals and which he considered a sign of his chieftainship. He would often leave the spear in front of his house while he was off working in the fields or with his cattle. One day, an elephant approached the gardens and broke through the hedge of euphorbia bushes and then began to eat the crops. Gipir heard the noise and raced to drive the elephant off; on the way, he seized a spear and when he came to the garden he drove the spear into the elephant, heedless of the danger to himself. In agony from the wound, the elephant turned away and rushed out of the garden and into the bush, and it took with it the spear, still driven into its flesh.
Then Gipir realized that he had used Gifol’s spear. When Gifol returned and learned what had happened, he was furious. Gipir offered to purchase a new spear, at any price: he would give all his cattle, he would hunt and bring skins and tusks. But Gifol was insistent: he must return Gifol’s own spear, for no other would do. They argued for several days, but there was no resolution; Gifol would not accept any substitute or any excuses for the loss of
his spear.
Finally, Gipir went off, following the elephant’s track into the bush. He took some food and water, for he knew the elephant might have gone far, no matter how serious the wound in its side. He travelled for days, avoiding the lions and packs of hyenas, and finally came into a thick forest which was the secret home of the elephants. He did not have much food left by then. But at the edge of the forest he found a small hut, and in the hut an old woman, ugly and deformed, who sat over a cold hearth and an empty pot. She raised her head as he approached, but from the movements of her eyes he could tell that she was almost blind and did not really know where to look for him.
‘Hello, mother,’ he greeted her. ‘I can see you are hungry, and I need some shelter for the night. Will you let me stay in the hut tonight? In exchange, I will share with you what food I have brought.’
She wheezed an agreement, and so he fetched some firewood and built up the fire; then he cooked all his remaining food and gave a generous portion to her. They each ate, and then they retired to sleep in different parts of the hut.
In the morning, the old woman looked dimly at her guest. ‘Tell me why you have come here,’ she ordered, and so Gipir explained how an elephant had raided their garden and he had driven it off with the first spear that came to hand, and how his brother was insisting that he must have that very spear back. The old woman listened to the story, and then told Gipir what he might expect in the forest. She made him promise that he would return to her when he had finished.
He made his way under the great trees. Soon, he met an elephant and the elephant asked him what he was doing there in the elephants’ forest. He explained that he had lost a spear and had come to fetch it. The elephant asked some questions about how the spear had been lost, and then agreed that they might have it there in the forest. He led Gipir further under the trees, and they came to an open space where the ground was covered with spears lying about.
‘Here,’ said the elephant. ‘If we have your brother’s spear, it will be in this place.’ Gipir began to look through them, amazed at the number and variety of spears. All had been thrust at elephants; all had been carried off. Some were rusty with blood and age; some were long and thin, while others were wide-bladed. Finally, treading delicately through the pile of weapons and ever conscious of onlooking elephants, Gipir found Gifol’s spear which he could recognize by the shape of the blade and the ornamentation that had made Gifol so proud.
‘This is my brother’s spear,’ he said to his guide, and they made their way back to the edge of the forest. There he found the hut of the old woman again; to his surprise, the elephant who accompanied him bowed down to her and called her ‘Mother of Elephants’, and reported that their visitor had found what he sought.
‘It is well,’ said the old woman, and she waved at the elephant, although she still seemed not to be able to see where it was. ‘And for you, stranger, I have another gift,’ she said, and she pointed Gipir to a small bag which lay on the ground. When he opened it he found it contained a collection of marvellous beads of all sizes and colours and designs, beads such as had never been seen before in their land, beads which surpassed all the ornaments of all the women he knew. He thanked her warmly for the gift and then made his way home.
It was very satisfying to return Gifol’s spear to him; it was also rewarding to show the precious beads to his wife and see her amazement and delight, and then the pride she felt at the thought that she would now be able to wear jewels that had no equal.
A few days later, Gifol’s wife came with her infant son to see Gipir’s wife and admire the beads. Gipir’s wife had sorted them into several small calabashes, and she spread them out before Gifol’s wife so she could appreciate the variety of beads her husband had brought. The baby also was entranced with the bowls and crawled up to see them. Then, while the women were distracted discussing a possible design, the baby picked up one lovely bead and put it into his mouth. Before his mother could remove it, he had swallowed the bead. Highly embarrassed, Gifol’s wife took him home, leaving Gipir’s wife to tell her husband how one of the beads had been lost.
Gipir was furious. He marched over to his brother’s compound and demanded the immediate return of the bead which had been given to him by the Mother of Elephants. Gifol asked him to understand that it was only a small child, that no harm had been meant, and that he would pay any amount of cattle or other wealth to make up for the loss of the bead. But Gipir was insistent: Gifol must return Gipir’s own bead immediately, and no substitute would be acceptable.
‘Give me a bit of time,’ said Gifol. ‘If the child ate the bead, it must pass through and we can return it in due course.’ At length, Gipir agreed to allow them three days. During those three days, Gifol summoned a medicine man who administered purgatives and emetics, and they carefully examined the child’s stools, soaking them in water and searching for the bead. But it did not emerge. At the end of the third day, there was no other choice: they killed the baby and opened its stomach, looking for the bead. They found it, washed it off, and returned it to Gipir.
After that there was no peace in the land. Eventually, the brothers agreed that they should separate. Gipir led his followers to the Nile at a place called Wang-wat-Lei and he told Gifol that they would cross there and take the lands on the other side, leaving Gifol the lands on the east of the Nile. Gipir then prayed, and the waters of the Nile parted. They marched across the riverbed, and in the middle Gifol and Gipir together drove an axe into the ground to mark the division of their lands.
A SHRINE OF BAKA AND ALELA
This story is associated with a shrine, but is actually an explanation of how a particular lineage became the guardians of the shrine rather than a myth of the shrine’s origin.
Two brothers, Atiko and Weli, lived near each other, each with his own household. Atiko’s wife became pregnant, and eventually gave birth. But instead of human babies, she gave birth to two lion cubs. Weli was most disturbed by this, for he considered it unnatural, and when Atiko asked him to provide a sheep to be sacrificed to commemorate the birth of his nephews, Weli refused. Atiko had to go out to find his own sacrifice before it was too late, and the only thing he caught was a grasshopper.
The two lions grew up and spent a great deal of time in the bush, hunting animals. They always brought large carcasses to their parents, and so Atiko had a rich store of meat which he shared with his followers, and they naturally increased in number. However, things did not go so well for Weli, and eventually he became so poor that he had to go and ask his brother for some meat. The two lions had just left Atiko the carcass of a duiker (a very small antelope), and Weli asked Atiko if he might have a small portion of the meat.
Atiko refused. He reminded Weli how he had refused to provide a sacrificial animal for the birth of his nephews, so that Atiko had been forced to honour them with a grasshopper. Atiko would not share the meat, brought by those sons, with the brother who had not fulfilled his own obligations.
Weli eventually left the country. Atiko became ever more prosperous. He and his sons and followers travelled, and came eventually to the village of Pakwaca, where there was the shrine of Baka and Alela, which were the names of two hills nearby. There the meat they provided made him so popular that the people overthrew the old chief and chose Atiko to rule over them and he became the guardian of the shrine.
25
THE GIKUYU OF KENYA
The Gikuyu are a Bantu-language family group living east of Lake Victoria; they apparently moved there from the northeast, where they were in contact with Luo and Galla groups with whom they shared some social institutions such as age-grades. The Gikuyu are essentially agriculturalists, although they also keep sheep and goats; typically, homesteads are placed along ridges and farming is done in the valleys below. They now constitute the politically dominant group in modern Kenya largely because of their numbers; in pre-colonial times they were not organized into larger polities. This retelling is based on versions collected in th
e first third of the twentieth century, most notably by Jomo Kenyatta who much later became the first president of independent Kenya.
At the beginning, the Mogai established the world and divided it up. He set Mount Kenya as a place for him to rest while visiting the world, and as a sign of his works. He created a man named Gikuyu, and he brought Gikuyu to the top of the mountain and showed him the lands about the mountain and how beautiful they were. He pointed out to Gikuyu a grove of fig trees, and told him that he should settle there when he came down from the mountain. And he told him that in times of need he should sacrifice and look towards the mountain.
When he descended, Gikuyu found that the Mogai had created a woman for him. Her name was Mumbi. The two of them set up their household and lived well together. They had many children: nine daughters. Gikuyu was disturbed at the absence of sons, and so he turned to the Mogai and the Mogai answered him, prescribing a sacrifice: Gikuyu should take a lamb and a kid from his flocks and sacrifice them at the great fig tree in the grove near his homestead. The blood and the fat of the animals should be smeared on the tree; the meat should be burned as an offering to the Mogai. So Gikuyu took his wife and daughters and performed the sacrifice, and then they lit a large fire and made the offering to the Mogai. Then Gikuyu and his family returned to their home. Later, as the Mogai had instructed him, Gikuyu returned to the tree, and there he found nine young men.
He brought the young men home, and they were greeted as is proper: a ram was killed to provide meat, and the young men were taken to the water where they could wash. All ate the meal together and the night passed quietly. In the morning Gikuyu talked to the young men about marrying his daughters, and he insisted that they might marry only if the young men agreed to live at his homestead and to be ruled by their wives. The young men accepted his conditions. The daughters also were happy to be married, as they had come of age, so the ceremonies took place and each couple established their dwelling around the homestead of Gikuyu. They took the collective name of Mbari ya Mumbi (the Family of Mumbi) in honour of the mother.
African Myths of Origin Page 17
