Hardly believing in her escape, the mother returned to Sankaran, where Madiba Kone lived, and as she came without her children she was allowed to resume her miserable place in the household. Time went by: the seasons succeeded each other, and in the lair of the spirits the two boys grew into fine youngmen. Eventually, they were sent off to take their place in the world. But they wished to find their mother. Everywhere, they announced they were seeking their mother, and many were the claimants who wished to be connected with such paragons. But of each woman who said she was their mother, the young men asked simply: ‘Where did you give birth to us?’ and the answers invariably proved the woman wrong: in the bedchamber, by the fireside, in front of the chamber, in the fields, and sometimes in the bathing areas or by the well.
They came at last to Sankaran, where again women crowded around calling them their sons. But none could answer their question, until an old woman came and told them she had lost two boys who might be their age.
‘And where did you give birth to these boys?’ asked the men.
‘In the bush, by the lioness’s lair,’ answered the woman, and the two young men knelt before her to acknowledge that she was their mother. Then they took her away from her husband’s home, and they travelled east from the Manden to Sekoro, the region that would become Segou. And because they did not wish to keep the name Kone (although it is honourable in the Manden) they gave themselves a new name that recalled their origin: Diarra (‘lion’).
BITON KULIBALI AND THE FOUNDING OF SEGOU
Mamari Kulibali, later to be called ‘Biton’, and his mother, Sunu Sako, came to the land around Sekoro. He was a hunter, and had once wounded a spirit in the form of an antelope. He tracked it as far as he could, and then became the apprentice of a kinsman who taught him a great deal about healing and about hunting. Eventually, he went back on the trail of the wounded antelope that had vanished, and this time he followed it to the home of the spirits. He came among them, and there he found one who was wounded, whose wound would not heal. He bargained with the spirits, and they promised him good fortune if he would heal the wounded spirit. Then, using the knowledge he had acquired, he healed the spirit. In exchange, the others told him to move to the land of Sekoro, and there he would be able to found a kingdom.
He and his mother moved to Sekoro, and she planted a garden. In it she grew the ngoyo fruit. But when the fruit ripened, she was unable to harvest it for sale in the local market: every night some creature came and plucked the ripe fruit. Her son Mamari said he would see to the matter. He concealed himself near his mother’s fields, with his loaded gun aimed and ready to fire, and then he waited throughout the night to learn what thief was taking the fruit. Soon he saw a young water spirit come out of the dark shadows and approach the ngoyo fruit. The spirit moved from plant to plant, plucking the ripest fruit and leaving the rest, until Mamari coughed. Then the spirit froze and looked around.
‘Spirit,’ called Mamari, ‘are those your fruit? Did you prepare the earth? Did you plant the seeds? Did you bring the plants the water they need?’ The spirit did not move. It had seen Mamari, and saw also the gun barrel aimed straight at its heart.
‘No,’ said the spirit. ‘I will admit that I am stealing these fruits. But you should spare my life.’
‘I should not spare your life,’ said Mamari. ‘I have caught you, and I know that you are the thief who has been taking my mother’s fruits.’
‘You should spare my life because I can offer you something,’ said the spirit. ‘Come into the water with me to my father, and he will make you prosper.’
‘How will he do that?’ asked Mamari, and the little spirit told him what her father would offer him and what he must say. So Mamari agreed, and he and the spirit together went down to the riverbank and then into the waters. They came before Faro, the spirit ruler of the waters.
Faro at first wished to punish the human who had intruded on his domain, but the little spirit interceded and explained how she had been stealing the ngoyo fruit from Mamari’s mother’s garden, and how he had caught her.
‘He has spared my life,’ she said, ‘and I have promised him a reward.’
‘I shall offer him a reward,’ said Faro. ‘Human, let me give you one hundred cattle.’
‘Faro,’ answered Mamari, ‘I do not want one hundred cattle.’
‘Then let me offer you one hundred sheep and one hundred goats.’
‘Faro, I do not want sheep or goats.’
‘I offer you one hundred mithqals of gold.’
‘Faro, I do not want your gold.’
‘You do not want gold or cattle or sheep. What shall I offer you?’ asked Faro.
‘Faro, give me a handful of millet to sow in a field.’ Faro gave him the millet.
‘I shall add something,’ said Faro’s wife, the mother of the little spirit. ‘Come, and suckle at my left breast.’ So Mamari approached and took milk from the breast of the spirit woman. Then he returned to the land.
After the next rainy season he sowed the millet he had received from Faro, and his fields grew full and luxuriant. But somehow he was called away just before harvest time – a commercial venture, he told the neighbours – and while he was travelling the flocks of birds which feed on grasses and seeds (it is usually the task of little boys to scare them away from the fields) descended upon his fields. When he returned his fields were bare and the neighbours were muttering about his wastefulness and foolishness. But he was content, for he had been told that wherever the birds carried the millet seeds from his fields, those lands would eventually come under his power.
Mamari’s mother would make a honey beer which proved very popular among the young men of the area of Sekoro. They gathered weekly to drink her beer with Mamari, and after a while they began to take up a collection to pay for her expenses. Later, they began to raid neighbouring villages, and with the plunder they got yet more beer to drink together. They became an association, a ton, and then came the question who should lead the association.
They drew lots. Mamari’s lot was chosen. But there was opposition, because he was a stranger who had come recently among them, and was not a native to the area. Again they drew the lots, but again Mamari’s lot was chosen. There was yet more discussion. Some were still strongly opposed to making an outsider their leader, while others felt that they must stand by their promise: they had said they would draw lots to determine their leader, they had drawn the lots, and they must accept the result. Otherwise, they would be breaking their word.
Mamari was chosen leader of the association. In this way he gained the name by which he is best known, ‘Biton’ (leader of the ton). It grew in strength and activities, becoming a strong army that dominated the region. His capital, near Sekoro, was named Segou.
THE PEOPLES OF SENEGAMBIA
The coastal region between the Rio Muni of Guinea-Bissau and the Senegal river is rich in history and the interactions of peoples. The empire of Mali extended west to the upper parts of the Gambia river. North of the Mandinka kingdoms of Kaabu (or Gabou), Badibu, Niumi and others lay an ethnically hybrid state, Bondu, ruled by the Sisibe dynasty, while the Sine and Salum rivers along the coast were the territory of the Serer kingdoms which practised matrilineal descent through the Guelowar lineages for their rulers. The central coastal area, south of the Senegal river, was the home of Wolof kingdoms, rarely unified: Cayor, Baol, Waalo, but linked by a common origin and culture. The area along the Senegal river, known in Arab sources of the Middle Ages as the Tekrour, is now generally called the Futa Tooro, inhabited by the Tukolor or Haal-Pulaaren (speakers of Pulaar), a branch of the far-flung family of Fulbe. They were ruled until the eighteenth century by the Denyankobe dynasty, and then installed a form of Muslim government (the Imamate) in which rulers were elected for a year.
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THE MANDINKA OF SENEGAMBIA
The Mandinka of the Gambia are speakers of a language very close to Maninka/Bamana, but with strong dialectal differences. They trace thei
r origins to the time of Sunjata. Their kingdoms were spread about the upper reaches of the Gambia river, and trade was an important economic activity. The major kingdom was Kaabu, which fell to Muslim forces from the Futa Jallon (a Muslim Fulbe territory to the south, in Guinea) in 1857 when the capital of Kansala was taken.
THE CONQUEST OF THE JOLOF
This story, often given as part of the epic of Sunjata, describes the westward expansion of the empire of Mali. Tira Magan Traore, the general who conquered the Jolof, is considered the founder of the Mandinka kingdoms. This retelling is based on the many versions of the epic of Sunjata published in the last fifty years.
After Sunjata had defeated Sumanguru, and he and his generals and subordinate kings had held their great assembly and established the principles of their new empire, he decided that he needed horses for his army. So he sent men with gold into the land of the Jolof to buy the horses that were traded down from the Arab regions in the north. But when the men came into the Jolof they were seized and taken to the king. He took away their gold and gave them some leather scraps, as well as a message for Sunjata: Sunjata, he said, was only a hunter king, and so he needed shoes, not horses. The leather would serve to make him shoes.
When the messengers returned to Mali, there was some discussion how to break the news to Sunjata. No one wanted to tell him the message of the king of the Jolof. The princes refused, the diviners refused. They asked the chief blacksmith; he refused. But the jeli, Bala Faseke Kuyate, said that he could take the message, and so he did: he sang to the king and spoke of the limits of his power, and then he explained how he had been insulted by the king of the Jolof. In this way, the jeli showed the worth of his art.
The natural response to the insult from the king of Jolof was war. Different war-leaders made their claims to be sent on a punitive expedition. Having heard them out, Sunjata looked around the assembly.
‘One of your number is absent,’ he observed. ‘Where is Tira Magan Traore? I expected him to be first among you.’
‘He is outside,’ answered someone, and Sunjata went out to see what had kept Tira Magan from the gathering. They found a freshly dug grave nearby, and in it lay Tira Magan.
‘I see,’ said Sunjata. ‘If I do not send you to the Jolof, we should bury you? Tira Magan, you are the slave of the tomb.’ Those words have become a praise-name of the Traore lineage: Su Saare Jon.
So Tira Magan was sent with his army into the land of the Jolof. He told everyone that as he served a hunter, he was only walking the dogs. The army came to the ford near Salakan and defeated an army. Tira Magan said he was only walking the dogs. They came to the king of Nyani and defeated him. Tira Magan said he was walking the dogs. They met the king of Sanumu and defeated him. Tira Magan said he was walking the dogs. Finally, Tira Magan defeated the army of Jolof-fin Mansa. They captured the king trying to hide in a burrow. They brought him out and removed his head. Tira Magan said he had finished walking the dogs. Tira Magan’s descendants established the Mandinka kingdoms of the Gambia.
NIUMI AND JARRA
Other kingdoms were formed further down the river, in areas where the Mandinka came in contact with the Sereer, and there was some fusion of customs. Niumi was the principal kingdom, lying on the north bank closest to the mouth of the Gambia river, not too far from the Serer regions north-west of them. This account is based on information collected by an American historian around 1975.
The first rulers of the region of Niumi were women. There were twelve women rulers, until one lost an election to her brother and moved away to Bakindiki. After that time, women rulers began to give way to men, especially as the men turned to the empire of Mali – tilebo, they called Mali: the land of the sun, for it was in the east – to receive mansaya, the authority of kingship.
The women who ruled in Bakindiki, Fogny, Kiang and Jarra all exiled their brothers, to prevent them taking power. Jasey was the half-brother of the woman ruler of Jarra. He assembled these princes and built a great fire. Then he tossed his cloth into the fire and invited them all to do the same. After he did so, he announced, ‘I wish to go into Mali, to seek mansaya. Anyone who wishes to accompany me, let him take his cloth from the fire.’ With that, he stretched his hand into the fire and withdrew his cloth. His hand was unburnt.
One by one, the other princes announced, ‘I shall go into Mali,’ and they too withdrew their cloths. Only the prince from Fogny was unable to pull out his cloth, and Jasey told him he could not accompany them. The princes travelled east until they came to Mali, where they found Mansa Jali Kasa ruling. They told him the purpose of their visit. He heard them out, and then explained that the land was troubled by a monstrous bird, and if they could defeat the bird he would certainly endow them with mansaya to take back to Niumi. Since he had led the group into Mali, Jasey said that he would fight the bird first.
Jasey’s full sister had great magical powers. She had warned her brother that he would face an ordeal in Mali, and that if he ate any of their food he would fail the ordeal. She would cook a pot of food for him and place it on a great rock near Jarra, between two villages named Sutung and Bureng. From that rock, Jasey was able to reach the food, even though he was far to the east in Mali. Thus he was sustained during his struggle with the bird.
For several days the struggle was even-handed and inconclusive. The bird would sweep down and swallow Jasey whole; the bird then defecated and expelled Jasey. Jasey would then swallow the bird, and the bird would pass through him and be expelled by defecation. This went on for several days.
Then the sister changed the song she used when charming the food for delivery to Jasey. Where before she sang how the princes were in Manding but Jasey’s food was in Jarra, now she sang that the food was in Jarra and Jasey did nothing but eat. Jasey took this as a rebuke and stopped eating for two days. When the pot which she sent from Jarra to Mali returned full, the sister grew concerned, for she did not think her brother could defeat the bird if he was weak with hunger, and so she sent him a word of advice on a means to defeat the great bird.
Jasey built a fire and placed a great pot in it, so that it was heated until it glowed. The next time he had swallowed the bird, he came and squatted over the pot. When the bird emerged from Jasey’s anus, it was killed by the heat. In this way, Jasey satisfied the demands of the king of Mali.
When the princes from the Gambia were assembled, it was found that one of them, Samake Demba, had seduced a daughter of the king of Mali. Mansa Jali Kasa insisted that the punishment for this deed was death. Samake Demba pleaded that he should be allowed to make his farewells before he died, and begged a week’s grace in which to return home. The king refused until Jasey spoke up and announced that he would stand in Samake Demba’s place for the week, and that if Samake Demba did not return they could kill him instead. Struck by this instance of nobility, the king then agreed.
Samake Demba then rushed home, made his farewells, and returned to Mali. Because of the distance, even though he had hurried he only reached Mali on the eighth day, the day on which they had said they would execute Jasey if he had not returned. So for the last stretch of his journey he carried a banner, a tall stick on which he had tied a cloth, so that they would see him coming from far away and spare Jasey’s life. It was well that he did so, for they were preparing to execute Jasey when someone saw the banner in the distance and announced that Samake Demba was near at hand. When Samake Demba arrived, Mansa Jali Kasa asked him why he had come back.
‘I could do nothing else,’ answered Samake Demba. ‘My friend Jasey has taken my place for me. I could not let him die. It is better to die than to live in shame in Niumi or Jarra.’
‘You are truly a noble man, and worthy of mansaya,’ said Mansa Jali Kasa, and so he spared Samake Demba’s life. He gave the princes animals to guide them back to Mali, with instructions to follow where the animals led them. The animals were monkeys, and even today the people of Niumi can be praised by reciting the names of the monkeys: Sema and Tako, Jakali
and Bubu. To Samake Demba he added that when the monkeys had led him to his home, he should find a dog and go hunting with it, and the dog would lead him to fortune.
They returned home. Jasey became the king of Jarra, and is remembered as Jarra Mansa Jasey Banna. Samake Demba returned with him, and then he went hunting with a dog. The dog led him to Berending, and there he found a female ruler who fell in love with him. After some time, she made him king and renounced her own authority in his favour. Samake Demba was thus the first male ruler in Niumi.
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THE SEREER OF SENEGAL
The Sereer occupy their present location, along the coast of Senegal between Dakar and the river Gambia, as a result of their migration south at some point in the past from a region closer to the Senegal river. It is suggested that they share a common origin with their neighbours, the Wolof and the Pulaar (or Fulbe), and that all three groups separated some thousands of years ago. Having reached their new territory, perhaps seven hundred years ago, the Sereer there came into contact with the Mande peoples who had expanded west from their heartland on the upper Niger and Sankaran rivers; the expansion is generally associated with Sunjata’s general Tira Magan Traore (see Chapter 66). The society that resulted was marked by matrilineal descent of the ruling class, a warrior aristocracy and the practice of agriculture. Over the next few hundred years, the Sereer kingdoms would at times be incorporated into the larger Wolof states and at times remain independent. The Guelowar aristocracy of the Sereer, perhaps because of the matrilineal element, continues to inspire the imagination, although the original misalliance of a princess and a griot remains a delicate issue, usually left tacit. These stories are retold from the work of a French scholar, published in 1983.
African Myths of Origin (Penguin Classics) Page 42
