The blacksmith who came down from heaven with the seeds also taught humans the art of kindling a fire, so they did not need to keep the flame burning all the time.
The blacksmith also played a part some time later, when earth and sky again quarrelled and Amma withheld the rain from the earth. In the drought, a leatherworker made a drum which he played, singing praises of Amma while the blacksmith beat on his anvil, to signify the power of heaven. Appeased, Amma released the rains.
DEATH AND THE DANCING COSTUME
This story also occurs as a folk tale, and provides the plot of the Malian movie Taafe Fanga (Skirt-Power).
Amma had two earthly wives: an ant and a termite. He gave to each of them a grass skirt, dyed red, as a test. After a time, he called on each of them to come out wearing the skirt. The termite could not, because she had eaten the grass. It was not only greed, though. She did so in part because she was aware that death would come into being through these costumes.
One day the ant laid out her costume to dry in the sun. The jackal came by and called out to her in amazement: what was this bright red thing he saw? Could it be fire? Had the sun come to earth? And after a bit of pleading, he borrowed the costume from the ant so he could wear it to his father’s funeral. Although the jackal is untrustworthy and given to lies, in this case he had told the truth. He was going to the funeral. When he appeared, wearing the red costume, everyone ran away in fright. The jackal was delighted with the result of his new costume and put it away. But a bird found it and carried it off, thinking from the colour that it was raw meat. After one bite, the bird dropped it and it fell onto a tree. A female andumbulu spirit, one of the little red people, came across it and learned what it was from questioning the jackal. She then took the costume and wore it into the village. Terrified, all the men ran away.
This gave the woman power over the men, and she exercised it. The strange red spirit forced the men to do the work of preparing food, and they began to groan, for they had not realized how much toil was involved.
One day, however, an old woman came to the andumbulu woman’s husband. ‘Give me some food,’ she begged, and he asked why he should. ‘I shall tell you something,’ she answered. Curious, he offered her some food. She then told him that the spirit was only a costume worn by his wife, and she also told him where it was kept when it was not in use.
The man went and put on the costume. He leaped out at his wife as she was coming back from the waterhole with a pot of water; she dropped it, breaking the pot and spilling the water, and ran. He chased her into a neighbour’s house. He chased her into her own house. Finally, she fled to the edge of town, to the house for menstruating women. He did not pursue her there. She remained safe. Men then kept the costumes out of the sight of women.
Death came later to humans, after they had acquired the secret of masked dancing from the spirits, and with the masks the sacred language of the spirits that was used. An old man used the wrong language after he got drunk, and so lost the ability, which old humans had till then, of becoming a snake instead of dying.
CREATION: THE ESOTERIC VERSION
This is a shortened version of the story which Ogotemmeli revealed to Marcel Griaule.
Having created the earth, Amma wished to have intercourse with his consort. But the earth had not been purified by excision, and the termite hill, her clitoris, rose up against Amma. He cut it out and possessed the earth; she was still bloody from the wound and the act of intercourse was a violation. The offspring was not a pure being, but the pale fox, Ogo Yurugu, which would become a spirit of mischief and disorder in the world, but which also, having been born first, possessed knowledge that is used in divination.
After a second union, the earth produced the Nommo spirits: twin serpentine and aqueous beings who brought fertility and order to the world. They were disturbed by the sight of their mother the earth lying naked, and so they created a cloth of vegetable fibre with which to cover her. But Ogo Yurugu saw the cloth and envied it, and also lusted after the earth. He stole the cloth and raped the earth; from this union were born various spirits which now inhabit the world. The act also gave the fox a power of knowledge, for the woven fibre was a first expression of the language of the world which is involved in divination. After the earth had been raped by the pale fox, Amma decided to attempt new methods of creation, and he made the first eight human ancestors using clay shaped in the form of human genitalia which then engendered the humans. In the meantime, the Nommo spirits penetrated the earth to purify her with their moisture.
The ancestors lived for a time on the earth, until they became old, and then – beginning with the first and on to the eighth – they sank into the earth and were received into a womb created by the Nommo. With the seventh ancestor, a new revelation occurred, for the seventh ancestor represented the sum of the male figure (three) and the female figure (four) and so attained a form of perfection which endowed him or her with a new form of speech. From this speech came the weaving of cloth and other cultural techniques that were taught to men by the ant, which also lived in the earth. All eight ancestors were transported from the Nommo’s underground space to the sky, where they lived for a time with Amma until they were cast out.
The offence for which they were cast out is not clear, but it involved food and the breach of one of Amma’s commandments. As a consequence, one ancestor, the smith, created a granary into which he placed seeds and the elements of all the forms of life, inside and out; the ancestors rode the granary down the rainbow to the earth. It is said that the jarring impact of the granary on the earth caused the limbs of the ancestors, which until then had been serpentine and fluid, like the limbs of the watery Nommo, to break and develop joints such as humans have today; the joints would serve the humans in their new world and under the new conditions.
This is how the Dogon came to be on the earth.
LAKE CHAD AND THE CENTRAL SUDAN
The basin of Lake Chad, in the centre of Africa, now seems a remote hinterland. But for fifteen hundred years, before the growth of the ocean-borne trade, this region was almost the first line of contact between sub-Saharan Africa and the rest of the world. Trade routes north through the Hoggar and its line of mountainous oases to Tripoli (in modern Libya), or east through the Sudan to the Nile, linked this region with the wider world. The misfortune of the region, in contrast with Mali for example, was the lack of a luxury commodity such as gold. The principal export from the central Sudan was slaves, captured in raids on less warlike, non-Muslim peoples to the south. Kanem, the dominant kingdom in the early Middle Ages, eventually fell to the pressure of the Tuareg from the desert, and the dynasty moved their centre of power west of Lake Chad to found the new state of Bornu which maintained hegemony and power until the nineteenth century, and joined with the Hausa states (especially after they were taken over by Muslim Fulani leaders) in forming a Muslim belt across the Sahel.
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THE SARA AND THE SOW OF LAKE CHAD
The Sara live south-east of Lake Chad, in the territory of the legendary Sow (or Sô) hunters (see also the traditions of Kanem and Bornu in Chapter 59), although the creator figures Loa and Sou, who appear in the stories below, do not seem to be of giant size, as the Sow were reputed to be. The Sow practised agriculture, growing millet, but also made extensive use of the natural resources, engaging in fishing and hunting. They did not form a major state, but were rather the victims of slave-raiding by the Muslim kingdoms and emirates around them. The stories about creation come from a collection of tales published in 1967, and the stories about the towns from an anthropological study published in 1943.
CREATION BY LOA AND SOU
Loa and Sou were there at the start of things. Neither Loa nor Sou had parents as we understand the concept. Later, a bird laid an egg on a mound of millet lying in the bush. Loa watched over it and cared for it; a woman was hatched out. Sou found her fascinating, but her behind was red and seemed inflamed: she seemed to be wounded. Sou poured water over
it, and then rubbed his hand against it, but it simply became redder. Eventually Sou found something else to do with her, and she became pregnant. Loa then went to Sou and told him that Sou should pay him brideprice for the woman.
When the time came for the child to be born, she had great difficulties. She went into the bush, where a monkey approached her and served as midwife: the monkey poured water over the belly and supported the child as it came out. Then the monkey cut the umbilical cord and buried it. Since that time, monkeys have been entitled to raid people’s millet crops, because of this primordial service. After the first child, other children were born, singly or as couples, and so the earth was populated.
There are some stories about animals from this time. It is said that at first the entire earth was covered with millet fields, but the dog approached Loa and asked to have some fallow ground in which to defecate. Loa then divided the world, so that part is arable and part is bush. It is also said that the bustard, a great hunting bird, decided that humans were becoming too prosperous and should be killed off. The bustard brewed a great pot of a virulent poison, planning to use it on the humans. Its actions drew all sorts of small crawling things: spiders and scorpions and ants and bees and wasps and snakes and other reptiles, and they sat about watching the pot brewing. But the warthog and the monkey, who benefited illicitly from the humans’ crops, did not want to see the humans vanish, and so they schemed together to break the pot. The monkey came up to ask the bustard what he was doing; the warthog followed, complaining about the monkey’s behaviour at some time in the past. The monkey turned and answered rudely. The warthog pushed the monkey, the monkey pushed back, and the warthog stumbled against the pot and knocked it to the ground. The pot broke, the poison spilled out, and the crawling and creeping things waiting in the circle were all drenched in the poison. This is why their bites now sting.
SOU AND THE ARTS
Loa and Sou worked in very different ways. Loa made things very carefully: the pirogue he carved from the trunk of a tree was graceful and smoothly polished, and along the sides he carved geometric figures. He made tightly woven fish-traps, and the webbing he wove to guide fish into the mouths of the traps was even and smooth. Sou was a clumsy workman. Imitating Loa, he carved a pirogue: the sides were notched, the bow dipped into the water and caught oncoming waves, and the hull was so thin in places that a person might put their foot through it. Sou’s fish-traps were a mass of reeds bound together; fish could hardly get in, and if they did they easily found their way out. Loa, watching Sou’s work, never said anything. They exchanged no words, and perhaps Sou found this, rather than Loa’s evident superior craftsmanship, most galling.
Eventually, Sou decided to force Loa to speak. He went before dawn to Loa’s fish-traps and broke them open. He released the fish, piled the traps on the ground, and jumped repeatedly on them, so they were crushed. Then he hid in the bushes nearby to see what would happen.
Loa came in the morning to check his traps. He saw the mess that Sou had made and exclaimed, ‘Oh, Sou! Must you be a destroyer?’
Sou came out. ‘Why is it that the first thing you say about me is an insult?’ he asked.
Loa did not answer, but simply turned about and left. He left Sou, he left the earth; he withdrew into the sky and there he made his home.
Sou decided to follow Loa. He wandered far over the earth until he found the path into the sky. He made his way to Loa’s compound. At that time, Loa was in the fields watching workers clear an area for millet. He had brought large amounts of food and drink to reward the workers, while he lay back on a couch of rich wood and gold.
Sou came to Loa’s home and entered the first hut. There he found Loa’s rain-making stone, carefully placed on a shelf behind Loa’s sleeping couch.
‘What is this stone doing here?’ asked Sou, and he threw it out of the door. Immediately the rain began to fall on the workers clearing the fields for Loa, and Loa said to himself, ‘Sou has come.’ Loa returned to his compound and found his brother there playing with other possessions of his.
‘What has brought you here?’ asked Loa, and Sou explained that he wished to see how his brother lived, and that he thought they should not be estranged. But Loa said that Sou could not live in the skies with him, that he must return to the earth. Sou complained that the way was too long; Loa told him he could take a vine straight down and come to his home immediately. Sou complained that life on earth was too hard, whereas Loa clearly lived in comfort in the skies. So Loa promised Sou all sorts of wealth, if only he would leave. He gave Sou foodstuffs and clothing and tools and musical instruments. But he warned Sou that on the way down birds would attack him, and try to cut the vine above his head. He should menace them with his weapons, but he should not throw the weapons. Sou listened and promised to obey.
Eventually, Sou loaded all his gifts into a pack and slung it over his back, and then he began to climb down the vine, keeping his weapons ready to hand against the birds Loa had told him about. Sure enough, they appeared: they flew around him crying loudly, and then they began to dart closer, threatening him with their sharp beaks and talons. Sou pulled out a stone axe and waved it at them; they retreated for a time, and then flew back. Sou threw the axe at them and they flew far away. But soon they returned. Sou took out his flint-headed darts and threatened the birds; they retreated, but then returned. Sou threw one dart after another at the birds. He did not strike any, but he used up all his weapons, and it was still quite a distance to the ground.
The birds returned and circled closer, and then seemed to realize that Sou could not harm them. They flew against the vine and nipped at it with their sharp beaks, and soon the vine frayed and wore through and Sou came tumbling through the air with all his wealth. He landed on the ground so hard that he sank into it. That is why the Sara say that Loa is in the heavens and Sou in the earth.
SOU AND THE STAR WOMEN
There are other stories told about Sou in the region. One story says that at the beginning, Sou was alone in the world. He hunted by himself. His only companion was an old woman. He found her ugly and he knew she could bear no children, so he did not sleep with her. One day, while he was hunting, he saw some young women dancing in a ring near a great rock. He pursued them, but they vanished. Cursing and mumbling to himself, Sou headed towards his camp. On the way, thinking about the women, he did not watch the path and he tripped over a stump.
‘Why did you hurt my foot?’ demanded Sou, and the stump answered, ‘What were you thinking of, that you did not watch the trail?’
‘I saw some young women,’ said Sou. ‘They were beautiful. I approached them, but they ran away.’
‘I can help you,’ said the stump. ‘These young women are stars who come to earth to dance. If you wish to catch them, you should plant some white eggplants near your home. When you have done so, return to me.’
‘Bless you, my sweetheart!’ cried Sou, and he raced home. Immediately, he planted black eggplants. After the plants had sprouted and were bearing fruit, he returned to the stump.
‘I have planted the eggplants,’ he announced. ‘What should I do next?’
‘Go and fetch some of the yanre vine, and squeeze its juice over the eggplants,’ instructed the stump. Sou went off and cut some of the first vine he found – a green fruitless vine – and squeezed its juice over the black eggplants. Nothing happened. A moon went by, and no women from the stars came down to dance at his eggplants.
Sou took his axe and returned to the stump. He kicked aside the grass, and raised the axe for a first blow.
‘Stop! What are you doing?’ protested the stump. ‘Didn’t I help you? Why should you cut me?’
‘You tricked me!’ cried Sou. ‘I planted the eggplants and I squeezed the juice over them, and no women have come.’
‘Did you plant the white eggplant?’ asked the stump.
‘No, I planted the black variety,’ answered Sou.
‘Did you use the juice of the yanre vine?’
‘You must use the white eggplant,’ explained the stump. ‘The women from the stars use it in their cooking. And you must make sure to use the juice of the yanre vine; no other vine will catch their feet and stick them to the earth so that you can catch them.’
‘Ah,’ said Sou, and this time he followed the stump’s instructions precisely. In the middle of a moonless night, the women from the stars came down with baskets to gather the ripe white eggplants; Sou emerged from a hiding place. The women tried to flee, but the juice of the vine stuck to them and they had difficulty breaking free. Sou was able to catch several of them before the rest escaped. Sou took the women he had captured as his wives, and that is how people came onto the earth.
THE FOUNDATION OF GOULFEIL
The Sow lived in the north, near a sea of dark and salty water – the water was so salty that no boat could be made to float on it. They were so large that their bows were made of entire palm trees. To fish, they dammed a river with their hands, and then gathered up handfuls of fish. They plucked hippos from the water and munched on them like snacks. They drank from earthenware goblets six feet high. Birds of prey would nest in their locks. They simply shouted from city to city, to communicate. At that time, gold was a living liquid that flowed out of the earth and floated into the air. The Sow would pinch off a bit and put it in their houses to serve as light. The walls of their city were made of blocks of stone and gold, randomly mixed, as the builders happened on the material. They left this city because of the exactions of their ruler, who demanded a heavy tribute of woven rugs and fine woods. They marched south, and by chance passed into the lands between Lake Chad to the west and the Bahr el-Ghazal to the east. They came to the banks of the Chari river.
African Myths of Origin Page 35
