African Myths of Origin (Penguin Classics)

by Stephen Belcher

  30

  THE KINGDOM OF BURUNDI

  Burundi lies south of its closely related neighbour, Rwanda. The royal court of Burundi seems not to have attained the considerable complexity of Rwanda (for instance, there were no established historians), but in other regards the underlying cultures and history reflect a common origin and variation on parallel themes. This narrative is retold from the different versions included in a collection published in 1987.

  A man named Mwezi came into the land of Burundi and found a Hutu governing as king. The king was desperate because the land had been without rain for some time. Mwezi sought an audience with the king and enquired what might be his reward if he could bring rain. The Hutu told him he could name his price, and Mwezi suggested he might like a bride. Then Mwezi brought down the rain, using skills he had learned elsewhere, and the Hutu gave him his own daughter.

  Mwezi and the daughter had three children: two sons, Nsoro and Jabwe, and a girl. After a while, Mwezi arranged to have his father-in-law, the Hutu king, poisoned, so that he remained the sole ruler of the land. And some time later he decided to take a second wife. But at that his wife protested loudly, and so Mwezi ran off.

  Nsoro and Jabwe grew up, and each married. Nsoro then took a second wife. Once, when he was visiting her in his compound, Jabwe came by. He had been hunting antelope in the wetlands, and he stopped at his brother’s home. But Nsoro was with his other wife, and his first wife was alone. The servants took Jabwe’s clothes and dried them before the fire and fed him, and then he set off with his companions back to his own house. But he called out that he had left the bell for one of his hunting dogs hanging in the compound, and he would go back and fetch it; the others should continue on their way. In this way he contrived to be alone with his brother’s wife. She became pregnant, and after a time gave birth to a son whom they named Ntare. It is said that when Ntare was born he had seeds in one hand and milk in another.

  Jabwe realized the boy was his son, and eventually invited the boy to come on a visit, so that he could get to know his nephew. But he did not return Ntare to Nsoro, although Nsoro sent messengers to demand the child. Finally, Nsoro sent messengers who found a group of children playing out in the fields. They offered the children sugar cane and other sweet things, until they learned which one was Ntare, the little visitor. Him they took away. Jabwe and his men followed them, and a fight seemed imminent until Nsoro’s men challenged Jabwe and asked by what right he held on to the boy – had he married the boy’s mother? Was he the one who had given him a name? Jabwe was silent and turned away from the fight, but he continued to plan how to get the boy back to him.

  Nsoro sent the boy to stay with his aunt in Buha; her husband was the ruler of Buha. He sent cattle with the boy and the servants, and one of the cows gave birth to a bull-calf, which became the special pet of Ntare. Ntare’s royal birth was kept secret, but Ntare and his uncle would play kibuguzo, a game of tokens and counting. Ntare beat his uncle all the time, so that the uncle complained to his wife that their visitor must possess some power.

  In the meantime Jabwe recruited some wild men from the forest, whose leader he had healed when he was sick, and he sent them against Nsoro to seize the boy and bring him back. But when they came to Nsoro’s compound, pretending to come in peace, Nsoro fed them all poisoned food and they died. But Nsoro had realized his perilous situation and fled far away. Some say he was lost in the marshes of Gitanga, others that he vanished in the forest.

  The king of Buha became so jealous of Ntare’s success at kibuguzo, and so tired of losing to the boy, that he planned to murder him. But his wife consulted a diviner and learned about his plans. The diviner gave her charms with which to fool the king and protect herself and her nephew. One night, there was a great disturbance in the cattle-corral. Ntare’s bull-calf was attacking the king’s bull. The two bulls fought for some time, and then Ntare’s bull defeated the other and knocked it through the fencing which contained the cattle. The aunt and her nephew seized the opportunity and fled, along with the cattle. They made their way out of Buha. The king sent men to chase after them when he realized they were gone. But here again the diviners helped. They found the anthill within which the Inkoma serpent was hidden, and they stretched an oxhide taut over the openings. When the serpent tried to leave the anthill, it ran into the hide and produced a sound like thunder. This was the invention of the royal drums, the mark of power. The men of Buha who heard the sound were terrified and turned back. The people proclaimed that a king had come among them, and they enthroned Ntare.

  Jabwe heard that there was a new king and came to challenge his power. But in a fight outside the new king’s home he was mortally wounded. He saw a young man come to him bearing milk to drink, and asked him his name. ‘I am Ntare Rushatsi, your son.’ And Jabwe blessed him for the milk, and told his servants to bury him in another place, so that he would not bring drought on the land.

  So Ntare Rushatsi became king of Burundi. He had other adventures in pacifying the country, and there are many stories about him and his successors, some of whom were also named Ntare.

  CENTRAL EAST AFRICA

  From the area of the great lakes, which they reached some 2,000 years ago, iron-working farmers speaking Bantu languages moved south around the great equatorial forests. Those groups that passed through the eastern part of the forest (the Mongo or Nkundo groups) were apparently able to subsist on a combination of hunting and fishing with relatively small-scale farming; they also developed a close association with the Pygmy (or Twa) groups. They did not form larger political entities. Further south (in modern Congo), where the forest gave way to the savannah, a number of rich kingdoms developed: the Kuba, the Luba and the Lunda, and in the west, Kongo (see Chapter 40 below). They spread their influence among neighbouring peoples as well.

  31

  NSONG’A LIANJA, HERO OF THE MONGO

  The Mongo are a highly fragmented group of peoples who live south of the great bend of the Zaire or Congo river, through the heart of the tropical rainforest of the area. Their language belongs to the Bantu family which dominates most of southern Africa. While individual villages would have chiefs, the Mongo did not form states. There is relatively little political history in their traditions: the Mongo-speaking groups migrated south after crossing the river (one may perhaps see traces of that event at the end of this story) and settled throughout the broad area where they are now to be found. Their lifestyle was based more on the natural resources in the environment than on agriculture; they were not quite hunters and gatherers on the order of the Khoi-San people far to the south of them, or of the various Pygmy groups with whom they coexisted (the Batswa and Bokele in the story), but neither did they practise large-scale agriculture. The forest into which they moved was rich enough that they did not need to at first – things are undoubtedly changing. We can see the importance of hunting in the story: it is the principal means by which people obtain food, at least at the start. Other food-producing techniques identified in the narrative are fish-farming in ponds which would be drained, trapping, and the cultivation of bananas which come in a number of varieties, some of which are used to make beer.

  The story of Lianja exists in many variations; a full performance typically lasts two nights and includes not only the story of Lianja, but the story of his ancestors and their accomplishments, such as Bokele and his offspring. This retelling abridges the end, in particular the story of the ‘marvellous march’ of Lianja and his sister Nsongo, in which they gather followers with different skills and encounter various antagonists, A re-enactment of this march sometimes served Mongo groups as a ritual of purification for their village in times of trouble. This version is retold from numerous versions collected by missionaries in the 1950s and before. The complete story includes many episodes, from which a narrator may make a selection for a given performance occasion.

  BOKELE STEALS THE SUN

  Bokele was born from an egg. His father left for a trip, ordering that
all his wives must have children on his return, and his mother showed no signs of pregnancy until she was helped by a forest spirit who drew the egg from her and hatched it. Bokele grew extremely fast, and when his father returned from the trip he was already a grown man.

  Their village lived in darkness and could see only by the light of the moon. But they had heard of the sun; it was kept by the Old Man and his people across the waters. Bokele said he would go and get the sun for the village. He launched his canoe. As he was setting out, a swarm of wasps came and asked to join him.

  ‘Why should you come?’ he asked them.

  ‘If there is fighting, we will fight for you,’ answered the wasps, and he agreed. They found a place on the boat.

  The turtle came and asked to join him. ‘I am a magician, and I can help you find the sun,’ he said. Bokele said he could find a place on the boat.

  The hawk came and asked to join him. ‘When you find the sun, I can help you carry it off,’ he said, and Bokele said he could find a place on the boat.

  The mouse came, and asked to join the expedition. ‘I can creep about and learn their secrets,’ said the mouse, and Bokele agreed.

  They paddled for a long time over the waters until they came to the home of the Old Man. Bokele landed and was brought to the Old Man, and there he said he had come to buy the sun for his village. The Old Man sent Bokele to the guest hut while he discussed the business with his advisers. Bokele and the animals went to the guest hut, but then the mouse crept into the Old Man’s hall to listen to the discussion.

  ‘We cannot give up the sun,’ said the advisers. ‘He has nothing we want to pay for the sun. We should send him away or kill him.’

  ‘We should kill him,’ agreed other advisers. ‘It is dangerous that he has come here. We should ask Bolumbu to boil him in her pot of magic water.’ That was agreed upon. The mouse scurried back to Bokele and told him of the plan.

  Bokele went for a walk around the Old Man’s village and found Bolumbu’s hut. She stood outside it, stirring her great pot. He talked to her and flirted with her, and she thought he was very handsome and enjoyed his company. Soon, she left her pot and they went inside her hut where they could be alone, and they became lovers. The Old Man’s messenger came to find her and called her outside; she was told she was to cook the stranger in her pot of magic water.

  ‘How can I kill him? He is my lover!’ she said to herself, and she pressed her ladle so hard down into the pot that she made a hole and all the magic water ran out. She showed the damage to the Old Man’s messenger, and said they must wait while she prepared a stronger potion. Then she went into the hut and told Bokele that he must run away because they wished to kill him. He insisted that she should come with him, and she agreed she would do so.

  Meanwhile, the turtle had found the cave where the sun was hidden. He distracted the guards by calling to them and then hiding in his shell, so they could see no one. Meanwhile, the hawk flew into the cave and seized the sun. On the way out, the hawk picked up the turtle as well. They flew back to Bokele’s boat, chased by the Old Man’s guards. At the boat they found Bokele and Bolumbu waiting; they pushed the boat into the water and set off. The Old Man’s guards launched their own boats and set out after them.

  The wasps then said, ‘We have come to fight. It is our turn to act.’ They flew out of Bokele’s boat and attacked the pursuers. But the pursuers built fires that made a thick smoke and the wasps were confused and slowed down; many wasps were killed and the others returned to Bokele’s boat. Further on, they found that others of the Old Man’s followers had made a great fish-trap to catch their boat, but Bokele fought their leader and defeated him, and they were able to escape and return to Bokele’s village with the sun.

  YENDEMBE ‘HEAR-NO-ORDERS’

  Bokele and Bolumbu had a son, who was at first named Yendembe, which means ‘Hear no orders’, and later Lonkundo. If anyone gave an order to the child, rather than an invitation such as ‘Come and eat’, the child would die. After the child had grown old enough to travel, Bolumbu went to visit her mother and took her young son with her. Bokele sent men to accompany her, and he also gave her a little packet of kangili-kangili medicine with which she could revive Yendembe in case anyone gave him an order and he died.

  Bolumbu’s mother was delighted to see her daughter and complained that she had stayed away so long. After a day or so, Bolumbu went to join the other women at their tasks; that day they were to drain the fish-pond. She reminded her mother that she should give no orders to her grandson, and then handed over Yendembe.

  The old woman waited until Bolumbu was out of sight and then turned to Yendembe. ‘There, she has gone to help the women with the fish-pond. We are alone. Show me that you can be useful. Come, cut me down a bunch of bananas.’

  ‘Grandmother, you must give me no orders,’ said Yendembe. ‘That is my name: Yendembe.’

  ‘I will take that name away from you,’ said the grandmother. ‘I shall give you another name.’

  ‘You may call me by another name,’ answered Yendembe, ‘but still you should give me no orders.’

  ‘I have no food,’ said the grandmother. ‘You must help me. It is not difficult. If you cannot cut an entire bunch, then get me a few bananas at least. Get me some bananas.’

  The child took a stick and knocked some bananas from a low-hanging bunch. He gave them to his grandmother. Then he fell dead.

  A little bird went singing to Bolumbu as she worked in the fish-pond. It sang a short song to tell her how her mother had given an order to Yendembe and the child lay dead. Bolumbu returned to her hut and fetched the kangili-kangili medicine. She put some in Yendembe’s nose; the boy sneezed and rose up again. Then Bolumbu scolded her mother for disobeying her instructions and pointed out the consequences. ‘I didn’t believe you,’ said her mother. ‘I thought you were lying to me.’

  But the next day, the grandmother went into Bolumbu’s hut while her daughter was away with the other women working in a garden. She found the kangili-kangili medicine and threw it into the fire. Then she went to Yendembe and again ordered him to get her some bananas. The little boy objected, but she insisted, and so he went and fetched her some bananas. Then he died.

  The little bird went singing to Bolumbu, who rushed back into the village. She looked all through her hut, but could not find the kangili-kangili medicine. She could not revive Yendembe. So they wrapped the boy’s body in leaves and laid it in the boat and returned to Bokele’s village. As they approached the village, the little boy spoke and ordered them to unwrap his body. But when they reached the village, the boy was a corpse.

  The boatmen went to Bokele, and Bolumbu explained to him what had happened. Immediately, Bokele summoned the vines that grew around the village to tie up the boatmen and his wife, and the vines stretched their tendrils and twined around the people until they could not move. Then Bokele killed them all in his anger.

  Bokele went to his son’s body and put some more kangili-kangili medicine in his nose. The boy sneezed and sat up, and then flew onto the roof. There he asked his father to throw him clothes, and then he asked his father what had happened. His father told him how he had been given an order by his grandmother and died, and then again his grandmother had given him an order after burning his medicine, so that he had again died, and how his mother had brought him home to be revived.

  ‘Where is mother?’ asked Yendembe, and Bokele told him that in his anger at his son’s death he had killed Bolumbu and the boatmen. ‘That was wrong,’ said Yendembe, and he seized a spear and killed his father. Then he left that place and went to live in Ngimokili, the ‘centre of the world’.

  ITONDE WHO BECAME ILELANGONDA

  Yendembe now took the name Lonkundo and he married a woman named Ilankaka. They lived together for some time, and Lonkundo learned the secrets of hunting from his father, who came to him in spirit form and taught him about traps and nets and other devices. Because he could catch so much game, Lonkundo became a chi
ef with many servants. Eventually, Ilankaka became pregnant. During her pregnancy, her appetite became very difficult; she would not eat any food but bush-rats. So Lonkundo ordered his servants to make them a home out in the forest and to build an extended hunting-fence with snares to catch the bush-rats.

  They moved out of the village into the forest. The first day, the snares brought them eight bush-rats. Ilankaka ate all of the meat; there was nothing left. The next day, the snares brought them ten rats. Ilankaka roasted and ate five almost immediately; she smoked the other five and laid them away in the smokehouse for later. The next morning she looked in the smokehouse: all the meat was gone. She cried out, and Lonkundo accused the servants and punished them with beatings for eating the bush-rats, but the servants cried out that they had done nothing, they had not touched the meat.

  That day the traps had two dozen rats. They brought them to Ilankaka; she roasted and ate half of them on the spot, and smoked the others for later. She laid them away again in the smokehouse. In the morning, as Lonkundo was going out with the servants to tend the snares, she looked in the smokehouse for her meat: it was all gone. She told Lonkundo when he returned with still more bush-rats; Lonkundo threatened the servants, but they denied that they had gone anywhere near the smokehouse. Again, Ilankaka ate some of the meat they brought back and put the rest in the smokehouse. But then a clever young boy suggested to Lonkundo that they should cure some tobacco leaves; this was really only an excuse to get into the smokehouse. There he rigged a net over the meat that Ilankaka had put away.