Widowhood and Burial Customs of the Ibibios-gctid26649

[Oju]

The Ibibios of Southern Nigeria
by D. AMAURY TALBOT

[1915]


This is an ethnography of the Iboibo, a Nigerian tribe. Written by a pioneering English woman in the early 20th Century, this book focuses on the ritual life of women. Despite the naïve colonialist attitude, it presents a female perspective which was seldom seen in the ethnographic literature of the period.


WIDOWHOOD AND BURIAL CUSTOMS


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AMONG the Ibibios different funeral rites are prescribed according to age, position, and manner of death.

To begin with the youngest. The bodies of babes who die within a few days of birth may not be buried like those to whom a fuller span of life was given, but are laid in an earthen bowl which is then placed, inverted, in a shallow hole scooped out by the side of the road.

A somewhat similar custom is reported from among the Baganda for the burial of a twin. "The embalmed body was wrapped round with a creeper and put into a new cooking-pot. When the preparations were complete, the relations assembled, a man called the 'Mutaka' took the corpse to waste land near a main road, dug the grave, and laid the body in it; on the grave he placed a cooking-pot mouth downwards, but put no earth in. Then everyone who passed by knew the place to be the grave of a twin, and avoided it lest the ghost should catch them. Women especially avoided the place and threw grass upon the grave to prevent the ghost from entering into them and being reborn." 1

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any such upturned pots may be seen along the paths near Akaiya, especially those leading through parts of the bush which are carefully shunned at nightfall, for there the bodies of all who have died of smallpox, leprosy, or other infectious disease are flung and left without burial. An almost similar fate befalls those of women who have died in or immediately before childbirth, since these, too, are regarded as unclean. Should such a one die before giving birth, her body is cut open and the fœtus carefully removed and interred in an inverted pot in the manner described. As with those who died in childbirth, the corpse is propped against a tree and left, with sunk head and hanging hands, until the luxuriant vegetation mercifully covers the pitiful remains with its green mantle.

The ghosts of such are greatly feared, as much here and now as amid the ancient Babylonians, among whose most dreaded wraiths are mentioned:

"A woman that hath died in travail,
Or a woman that hath died with a babe at the breast,
Or a weeping woman that hath died with a babe at the breast." 1

When the bearers come back after disposing of these pitiful dead they may not enter their houses, but must wait outside that of the dead woman, until the members of her family have brought out and sacrificed a dog, a cock, and some eggs. Magic leaves are ground between stones and rubbed upon the bodies of the corpse bearers, while the kinsmen pray that this so sad a fate may never again overtake one of their

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house. The fowl's head is struck off, and its blood sprinkled over the bearers, who chant meanwhile:

"Let not the evil thing pass from me to any woman."

Until the sacrifices have been made and the prayers offered, none who took part in carrying the corpse may touch a woman lest that which cut off the newly dead should be communicated to the living.

The attitude of mind which thus denies gentle burial to those who have known the pangs, without the joys, of motherhood, is far as the poles asunder from that expressed by the old northern ballad in which so different a fate is meted out:

Their beds are made in Heaven high,
Full lowly down by our dear Lord's knee,
All girt about wi' gilly flowers,
A right fair company for to see." 1

Yet, though among Ibibios but little sentiment is wasted on these unfortunates, their lot, in the old days at least, was happier than that of women unlucky enough to bear twins. The fate of such has already been described, and the ill-results of the cruel superstition do not cease with life, but are thought to continue even after death. A woman who dies in giving birth to twins, or before the end of her year of purification after such an event, may not be carried to her last resting-place through the house door, any more than she may go out by it on leaving home to spend the prescribed twelve moons in the twin women's town. Such sad exiles must pass through a hole

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purposely broken in the wall, by which exit the unfortunate babes are also carried forth. Further, the body of a twin mother may on no account be borne along a road by which ordinary people pass to and fro, but only by a little path specially cut through the bush to the place where it is to be flung.

The reason for this prohibition is much the same as that given in Cambodia for carrying a dead body feet foremost, i.e. "that it may not see the house, in which event other sickness and other deaths would result." Ibibios say, too, that should the ghost return and try to enter her former home she would be unable to do so since the place by which the body was carried forth has been blocked up, and wraiths can only enter by the same way through which their bodies were borne forth-the converse of that law of the spirit world explained by Mephistopheles to Faust--

"For goblins and for spectres it is law
That where we enter in, there also we withdraw." 1

In the country round Awa, a superstition obtains much like that of the Malayan "langsuir," a description of which is thus given by Sir William Maxwell:

"If a woman dies in childbirth either before delivery or after the birth of a child, and before the forty days of uncleanness have expired, she is popularly supposed to become a 'langsuyar,' a flying demon of the nature of the 'White Lady' or 'Banshee.' To prevent this a quantity of glass beads are put in the mouth of the corpse, a hen's egg is put under each armpit, and needles are placed in the palms of the

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hands. It is believed that if this is done the dead woman cannot become a langsuyar, as she cannot open her mouth to shriek (ngilai) or wave her arms as wings, or open and shut her hands to assist her flight."

It was only with great difficulty that any information could be gleaned as to this terrible wraith, since it is a matter of firm belief that even to mention her might lay the speaker open to an unwelcome visitation. No entreaty or inducement which we could offer availed to persuade any informant to confide to us the appellation by which these ghastly and malignant spirits are known. The utmost we could prevail upon anyone to impart on the subject was that among some tribes she was called Ekwensu; we have since learned that this is the Ibo term for these sad wraiths. It was stated from several sources that, by simply calling aloud the dread name, a discarded wife had succeeded in drawing down upon her husband the curse of such an uncanny housemate. After long seeking we learnt, however, that in this part of the world when a woman has died in childbirth, the mouth of the corpse is closed with pitch, and this mixed with thorns is sometimes also placed beneath the armpits, while the hands are occasionally bound to the sides. To be efficacious this service should be rendered by an old woman, "who must be such a one as had brought many children into the world but has now long ceased from bearing." No mention was made of other precautions, such as beads, eggs, or needles placed in the palms.

These sad wraiths are thought to be filled with

[1. Straits Branch, Journal of the Royal eurasiatic Society. No. 7, p. 28.]

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enmity against the whole human race, because they have been robbed of offspring and denied burial, in consequence of which last misfortune they are forced to wander up and down over the length and breadth of the earth, racked with hunger and parched with thirst, with no resting-place in the ghost town amid kindly kith and kin. With the idea of avenging themselves upon men for this dreary lot they sometimes take the form of a beautiful woman in order to attract the regard of a lover. To such the wraith may bear elfin children, and is even said to be capable of so well disguising her evil nature as to live among mortals unsuspected for years. Only one peculiarity does she show. She cannot join in the merrymakings of her town, for, should she once be inveigled into a circle of dancers, her feet skim the earth so lightly that she can no longer keep to the ground, but is forced to spring--ever higher and higher--till at last, with a blood-curdling shriek, she flies away, and is even said at times, to the horror of the spectators, to have changed before their eyes into the form of an owl or vampire bat.

When a man has fallen under the spell of one of these terrible beings he is lost indeed, for at death the ghoul-wife and her demon offspring gather round his bed, mopping and mowing, and their unclean presence keeps off the kindly spirits of those ancestors whom he would fain join in the ghost town.

Further details of the "langsuir," corresponding in many points with those given above, may be found in the fascinating pages of Skeat's "Malay Magic." The passage is quoted in full on account of its charm

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The original langsuir, whose embodiment is supposed to be a kind of night owl, is described as being a woman of dazzling beauty who died from the shock of hearing that her child was stillborn and had taken the shape of the pontianak or mati-anak--a kind of night owl. On hearing this terrible news she clapped her hands, and without further warning flew whinnying away to a tree, upon which she perched. She may be known by her robe of green, by her tapering nails of extraordinary length (a mark of beauty), and by the long jet black tresses which she allows to fall down to her ankles--only alas! (for the truth must be told) in order to conceal the hole in the back of her neck through which she sucks the blood of children! These vampire-like proclivities of hers may, however, be successfully combated if the right means are adopted, for if you are able to catch her, cut short her nails and luxuriant tresses, and stuff them into the hole in her neck, she will become tame and indistinguishable from an ordinary woman, remaining so for years. Cases have been known, indeed, in which she has become a wife and a mother, until she was allowed to dance at a village merrymaking, when she at once reverted to her ghostly form and flew off into the dark and gloomy forest from whence she came."

Of the pontianak or mati-anak, i.e. the ghost of a stillborn child, no trace could be found among the Ibibios, and no special precaution save that of burying face downwards beneath an inverted bowl, seemed taken to prevent its return.

The following story was told by an Efik woman

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to whom it was related by a friend who lived near the Opobo border:

"Many, many years ago a very beautiful woman lived upon earth. She married a great chief who loved her beyond all his other wives. To her alone he gave the gifts which should have been shared between all of them, and neglected the rest for her sake. This made the others so jealous that they consulted together and bought a strong juju which they buried one night beneath the path by which the favoured wife went to her farm. Further, they tied pieces of tie-tie into strong knots and hid them beneath her bed, and locked and clasped door- and box-locks, that by this magic the portals of birth should be closed against the coming of any babe to her.

"By this means the woman was kept childless for many years, but at length her husband collected great gifts and took them to a very strong juju, thereby purchasing a medicine which he brought back and gave, in all secrecy, to this best-loved wife. By its strength the bad jujus were overcome, and the fellow-wives saw that their envious plots were vain.

"Now among the number was a witch. Full of malice therefore, she went before her witch company and told how her rival had triumphed over the magic knots and other spells wrought against her, and was about to bear a babe. Then all the witches plotted together to weave a most evil charm, by means of which the babe should meet death on life's threshold. Thus it came to pass, and when the little dead form was shown to the mother she gave but one cry, and striking out with her hands as though to fend off the

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cruel fellow-wives, without further warning flew up into the branches of a tall tree, upon which she perched in the guise of a white owl, uttering plaintive cries. So embittered was she by the treatment she had received that whenever one of her enemies bore a babe she used to come down at night time and, vampire-like, suck its essence, so that it also died."

It is interesting to compare this Ibibio version with those from the Malay States given previously.

Little children from one to seven years of age are laid in the grave on their right side, as if sleeping, with hands folded palm to palm and placed between the knees. Should it happen that several piccans have died in any family one after the other on reaching about eight to ten years, the next child to expire at this age is also buried face downwards, "so that he may not see the way to be born again." It is thought that his spirit is one of those mischievous sprites who only reincarnate to bring grief to parents, and would never grow up to be a comfort to them in later years. The mother or grandmother of such unwelcome revenants usually breaks a finger or slits an ear of the corpse before it is laid in the grave, that, when it is born again, they may know it at once because it will bear this mark. The spirits are said to dislike this treatment so much "that they often give up their bad habit of dying, and on the next reincarnation grow up like other people."

When such a boy or girl has died the parents usually wash the feet and hands of the corpse and pour the water into a bottle which is kept in a corner of their sleeping-room. When the wife feels that she is once

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more about to become a mother, the liquid is sprinkled over the floor of the room, while the parents cry aloud the name of the ghost, saying, "You must not be born into our family again."

Among the Ekets the father of a child is held responsible for its burial. It is a breach of custom for the mother to lay it in the grave. A case illustrating this came before the Native Court at Eket early in April, 1913, in which the plaintiff stated:

"Defendant married my daughter. They had a child who died. Just before its death defendant came in and found the dying child in my arms. At once he caught up a machet, and with the flat of this struck me across the mouth. I said to him 'What have I done?' He did not answer, but took up a jar of palm wine which stood near by and flung the contents over the `Mbiam juju crying, 'Let me die for my child!' I said to the people who stood around, 'He thinks that I am killing the child, but never have I heard of a grandmother who harmed her grandchild!' Then I got up and went away, leaving the babe with its mother. I did not go far, but came back into the courtyard and made a fire in a corner, out of the way, thinking 'I will stay here till I know how it goes with the child.' As I sat waiting and listening, defendant came out, seized me by foot and throat, and flung me out of the compound. He caught up his machet and would have killed me, but the bystanders ran between and stopped him from harming me further. It was then that the child died, and so soon as he knew that its soul had quite gone from it he thrust the dead body into the arms of my daughter, and bade

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her bear it to my house. This she did, and he refused to bury it, although it is our custom for the father to bury dead babes. It is unseemly and against our rule that a woman should do so, yet when the husband's half-brother came and ordered my daughter to bring the dead body and bury it, she obeyed. She it was, therefore, the mother, who laid it in the grave."

In the course of my husband's study of native burial rites he stumbled upon the discovery that among the Ibos underground chambers, much on the plan of those of ancient Egypt, were formerly prepared for the reception of the dead. In talking over the matter with an Efik chief of high standing the latter stated that in olden days at Calabar graves only slightly different in form used to be dug out for the interment of chiefs. His description was as follows:

"Within the walls of the dead man's compound an oblong chamber often twenty-four feet deep, was dug. Through one of the sides they cut a tunnel, and at the end of this a large underground room was hollowed out. . . . . When all had been arranged the coffin was carefully lowered into the first chamber, borne through the passage, and laid upon the resting-place so reverently prepared.

"Then the best-loved wife of the deceased and two of his most beautiful slaves were led into the chamber and seated upon three chairs at the feet of, and facing, their dead lord. Between living and dead a table was placed, and on this dish es containing fine 'chop' was set.

"The best-loved wife was in the centre, and into her hands a lighted lamp was given. Then all save

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the three women left the burial room. Boards were placed before the entrance and earth piled against these until the passage was filled up. Bolts of cloth and the less costly articles, were then laid in the first compartment, immediately beneath the shaft. Lastly soil was thrown in and beaten down over all." 1



Footnotes


213:1 "The Baganda, their Customs and Beliefs," p. 125. Roscoe.

214:1 Devils and Evil Spirits of Babylonia." R. C. Thompson.

215:1 "The Ballad of Clerk Saunders."

216:1 Aymonier, quoted in "The Mystic Rose," p. 95. A. E. Crawley.

224:1 "By Haunted Waters." P. Amaury Talbot.

[Oju]

WIDOWHOOD AND BURIAL CUSTOMS
(continued)



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FROM the moment when the death of a great Efik chief was announced his widows came under the care of the Ndito Than society, known among Ibibios by the name of "Iban Isong," i.e. Women of the Soil. Should an unfortunate widow offend against custom in any way, such as by washing face or feet, or plaiting her hair, the society at once fined her; for members were continually passing in and out of the house of mourning to watch that the rules were observed. At cock-crow each day the women of the household had to wake and start crying for an hour or two, and should one of them not be thought to perform her part of the ceremony in a sufficiently energetic manner, external aids were applied of sufficient strength to remedy any lack of naturalness. Widows were not allowed to leave the compound on any pretext, but were forced to stay, each in her own house, sitting upon a small mat in a dark corner. No covering was permitted, save the narrow strip usually worn round the waist beneath the robe and called the "woman's cloth."

When women from other families came, the visitors seated themselves just before their hostess. No sooner had they settled down than the widow

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started to weep anew, and the guests joined her in lamentation. After a certain time spent in this way they went on to another wife, and so on till all had been condoled with. Sisters and cousins of the dead man usually received visits in the room beneath the floor of which the corpse was buried.

Only legal wives were thus secluded. Other women of the household, no matter how near or dear they might have been to the dead, were not expected to stay in their little corners, but were free to come and go within the compound. The time of seclusion was called that of the "Mbuk Pisi" house, i.e. house of mourning.

When a very great chief dies his widows make a certain offering to the Ndito Than Society. For this purpose they prepare long wrappings of silk, and, after having presented these, send to inform their families of the bereavement which has befallen them. In olden days a year or more was usually spent in this seclusion. Now it is only a week or two, or at most a month.

As the time of mourning drew to an end, about nine o'clock one night a cry was heard coming from the Egbo house. This was the signal for the beginning of what was called a very "strong night" at Calabar. All the widows stepped, one by one, out of the compound where they had so long been confined, and proceeded to the Egbo shed, each with her family walking round her like a fence The building was full of the great chiefs of the town, while crowds of spectators stood outside. After all the wives had been stationed before the entrance, the name of each was called in turn, from the lowest to the highest, with the words:

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"You must 'cry' your husband before the Egbo, that Egbo may hear."

Then, in the stillness, the poor woman raised her voice bewailing her loss, and the Egbo answered the cry from within, "a very thick and heavy sound amid the silence." After awhile came a pause, then all began again as before. Seven times the wail rose; but the seventh was the last. All this time the family of the first woman stood in readiness to pass her along from one to another. Suddenly bells were heard ringing, and the widow started to run, sheltered always by her kinsfolk. The same happened to all in turn, and, should some unfortunate woman have no strong family to encircle and save her, Egbo caught her and she died there and then.

After having "cried their husband before the Egbo," the widows went back once more to the house of mourning, and early next day Idemm Ikwaw (i.e. lesser Egbo) came out and went round the town. All the principal chiefs followed him, holding in their hands twenty to forty young palm stems, each about four feet long, from which the hard skin had been stripped off, so that only the soft inner part was left.

When these had gathered in the courtyard, the women came out from the Mbuk Pisi house one by one with folded arms and stepping backwards "softly, softly"; for they might not turn their heads. Each was shaking with terror, for none knew what was coming and they feared "too much." All around them bells were ringing with deafening clang and bang. The Egbo image struck at each, as she came forth, and, if the woman was lithe and nimble of mind as

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well as body, at the first stroke she sprang back into the house, but many were too bewildered to know where to turn. For each blow a new stick was used, the others being thrown away immediately. After every widow had been struck in turn, the ceremony was over. "The minds of the women could rest in peace now. There was nothing more to fear."

Later in the day all went down to the river to bathe. There they washed the little cloths which had so long been worn unchanged, and shaved their heads. "Each widow was laved by the women of her family and those who were her dearest friends. No man could see them walking unrobed because of the press of women about each. After bathing they dressed themselves in cloth woven of plaited grasses, the fine kind called Ofon Ndam, black, red, and yellow in colour, which is as soft as linen." Then the "woman's cloth," and every spoon, calabash and other utensil used during the time of mourning was thrown into the river; were this not done it was thought that their continued possession would entail barrenness upon their owner. After these had been cast away the widows returned for the last time to the house of their late husband. They did not enter, however, but only sat on the veranda.

Next some of the principal women of the town and five or six chiefs went thither as witnesses that all had "cleansed themselves," and now wished to go back to the homes of their fathers. The household juju was brought out and set upon the ground, and before it each widow took oath:

"During my husband's lifetime if I was unfaithful

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to him or did any bad thing against his family may the juju punish me! If not, may I go clear!"

After this each woman's kin surrounded her. She raised her clasped hands above her head, resting them with interlocked fingers upon the crown, and cried, "My husband divorces me to-day!" The spectators took up the cry, calling in chorus upon the dead man by his "fine names" such as "Helper of the Town," etc.

After each widow had thus set herself free, the household dependents came forward and "cried" in much the same manner. Then the "free born" amongst them all went back to the homes of their fathers.

For seven days only the native grass cloth "Ofon Ndam" might be worn by the bereaved women, and, when this was laid aside, custom ordained that a kind called "Isodoho" should be substituted.

Sisters, cousins, and women "members" of the deceased's family wore a blue cloth two fathoms long, knotted over the left shoulder and hanging straight down like the usual farm dress. As a further sign of mourning they used to grind charcoal and mix with a little oil to form a black pigment, with which they painted a mark from temple to temple across the forehead, much in the shape of a crescent moon. It is quite probably from this circumstance that the "house of mourning" among the Ibibios is termed "the moon house," though, when the supposition was mentioned, some of my informants disclaimed all knowledge of the point.

Male members of the family or household were

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supposed to wear black or dark blue cloth, sometimes for as much as a year and a half, until a date was fixed upon by the principal men among them, who said, "On such and such a day we will finish mourning." They liked to arrange so that this "throwing off of mourning" took place about Christmas time, before the planting of new farms.

It would seem that the period of mourning is purposely made as disagreeable as possible for the widows, in order to deter these from the temptation to poison their husbands so as to clear the way for another suitor.

As with the Greeks of old, both men and women shaved their heads in sign of mourning. Like the widows, some of the dependents wore Isodoho cloth, and some a kind dyed a lighter shade of blue called "Utan Okpo."

From the day when the widows "took oath before the juju" and returned to their fathers' homes they were free to marry again. 1

On the occasion of the funeral rites of the head chief of Ikotobo, the cattle offered to the "Manes" of the dead were laid out to the left of the throne upon which the corpse sat in state; while on the right, as if to balance the slaughtered sheep, which in this case were twenty in number, crouched the deceased's twenty wives with their children, all wailing and wringing their hands. But for the presence of the "white man," 2 most, if not all, of these unfortunate women would have been sacrificed also and buried with their lord. Even as

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it was their fate was sad enough. They were painted over with black pigment and forced to go into mourning for six months, though in the case of lesser men the period is sometimes shortened to as little as seven days. During this time they were obliged to observe the strictest seclusion. On such occasions none is allowed to wash either body or clothes. They are even forbidden to stand at the door of their prison while rain is falling, lest a single drop should touch them and thus cleanse a fractional part of the body. During this time the wretched women exist under conditions too hideous for description. At the end of their seclusion the Egbo "images" come with attendants and drive them forth from the dead man's house, which is then broken down. Images and attendants bear sharp machets, with which they slash the arms of the terrified women, who run weeping to seek out former friends and beg them to bind up their wounds. After this they remain homeless until parcelled out among the heirs of the dead man.

The wives of even poor Ibibios must remain secluded for a week after their husband's burial. During this time they may wear no garment save a small loin cloth and a piece of goat's skin tied over the right hand. 1 Before coming forth they are allowed to dress their hair, bathe and resume their customary garments. The first use they make of freedom is usually to go and pluck themselves boughs of ntung leaves, which they wave to and fro "to drive away the scent of the ghost," for Ibibios, like the ancient Babylonians, believe that ghosts have a very evil smell. Thus

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protected, the women approach the grave and lay upon it, folded into a small roll, the cloth and piece of skin which they have worn during the time of their seclusion. After this has been duly done they may return to their ordinary mode of life, mixing with their fellows and going to market as before.

In the neighbourhood of Awa when a chief fell sick his nearest kinsmen used to go to the Idiong priest and ask the cause of the illness. Should the oracle declare, as was usually the case, that this had been brought about in consequence of a wife's unfaithfulness, Idiong was next asked to point out the guilty woman. So soon as her name was pronounced she was called upon to confess and give the name of her lover. Should she refuse and as a result, according to general opinion, the husband died, the oracle was consulted once more, and, on the almost invariable pronouncement that the woman was guilty of the death, a meeting of the townsfolk was called to decide upon her fate. By ancient custom this might be meted out in two ways; either she was buried alive by the dead man's side, in place of a female slave usually sacrificed on such an occasion, or forced to sit above the grave. In the latter case a slender pole of hard wood was brought, sharpened to a fine point before the eyes of the wretched woman, and then driven into the skull, right through the body, and deep down into the earth, in such a manner as to impale her above the place of burial.

Before killing such victims the people used to gather round and order them to pronounce a blessing upon the town. "Make plenty piccans be born to

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us," they would cry; "plenty girls and plenty boys." Should the victim refuse to repeat the words they coaxed her, and said:

"If you will but speak this blessing we will let you go free."

Should she again refuse they beat her very cruelly, crying, "Now speak." If, despite the pain, she still refused, the "fearful Egbo" would come out--hideous beyond description--and threaten nameless tortures till she yielded.

In some rare cases the woman has still been known to hold out, as is also recorded of one or other of the slaves ordained by custom to share the grave of their lord, and from whom a like "blessing" was demanded. Under such circumstances the victims were never sacrificed, since to do so would have been to draw down a period of barrenness and poverty upon the town. Instead of killing such steadfast souls, therefore, they were sold into slavery, while a victim who could be forced or cajoled into pronouncing the necessary formula was offered instead.

It was of the utmost importance to the well-being of the spirits of parents in the Ghost Realm that a son should be left behind who would carry out the burial rites with all due observances. The straits to which good sons were sometimes put in order to make sure that the necessary ritual was performed are illustrated by the story of the sham burial of the mother of the head chief of Ikot Okudum--a town not far from Ubium Creek.

Many years ago when the present head chief, Etuk Udaw Akpan by name, was a young man, he

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was very strong and brave. For a certain reason his fellow-townsmen wanted to kill him. They tried their best, and set many snares, but lie always escaped them.

One day he went to visit the house of a friend in the Ubium country. His host prepared "chop" and set it before him, with palm wine and all things necessary for the refreshment of an honoured guest. During the meal his enemies heard that he was within, so they sent a message to the owner of the compound, saying:

"For a long time we have wanted to kill this man but could never catch him. We beg you, therefore, to give him into our hands, and in return we will pay you a great sum."

The host said, "I agree, provided the amount you offer is large enough!" So they brought much money, whereon he said, "It is good. Do to him what you will."

Then the people surrounded the house and fastened the doors of the encircling fence so that Etuk might not escape them. When all was ready they called:

"Come out. We wish to ask you a word." He, however, answered, "No. If you have anything to say, it can be said while I am within." The people replied, "You must come out." Then when they found that he would not do this, they tried to force in the door and fall upon him.

On that Etuk drew out a sharp machet which was hidden beneath his gown, and springing through the door shut it suddenly behind him, and stood facing his foes. So unexpected was his appearance, and so

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fierce his blows, that momentarily the people all gave way before him. At a glance he saw that the gates were barred, so, as he was an excellent climber, before anyone could stop him, he sprang upon the mud wall of the veranda and thence to the roof. Along this he rushed till he came to a place where the building was very near the fence, cleared this at a bound, and alighted safely on the other side. Then he ran for his life toward the bush, crying out, "If you want me, follow me now!"

It was some time before those within the enclosure could unbar the gate which they themselves had so carefully fastened, and by the time this was done Etuk had disappeared.

All day he hid, but after nightfall managed to reach his home unnoticed. There he said to his mother:

"To-day I went to a house in the Ubium country, whither the townsmen followed to kill me. I was very sorry for myself and also for you, because you are my mother and, unless I am killed, you will probably die before me. In that case it would be my duty to bury you. Now that they want to kill me so soon I fear that you may be left with no grown-up son to perform the rites for you, since my brothers are still very young. I think, therefore, it is best, while there is yet time, to call all the townsfolk together and do that which is proper for a son to do for a dead mother."

To this the woman answered, "Do as you say, for the people want to kill you, and leave me alone in the world with no one to bury me when my time shall come."

p. 236

Then Etuk sent one of his small brothers to summon the townsfolk. Goats, cows and much mimbo had been provided, together with everything necessary to do honour to a dead woman.

When all were assembled before the house Etuk said to his mother, "Go now and bathe." Then when the bath was finished he robed her as is done with a corpse. Afterwards he went outside and placed a chair for his mother, who sat thereon in the sight of all the people, as the dead are used to sit in state.

Next all the beasts were slaughtered, and Etuk Udaw took the blood and poured it out before the feet of his mother, as is customary for women who leave behind them a son of fitting age to carry out the burial rites. When this was finished he ordered the people to play the death play for his mother, and at the end bade her go back into the house while he addressed the company.

First he told them to keep silence for a while, and then asked:

"Do you know what I mean by dressing my mother like a dead woman and holding her burial rites while she is still alive?" They answered, "No, we cannot even guess, though we question much among our selves on this very matter." So he continued:

"You want to kill me, and should I die before her she would be left in the world without a son old enough to bury her properly when the time comes. Therefore I have done all this before you slay me, that everything may be performed in due order and she may not suffer in the Ghost Realm."

They answered, "We have drunk all this mimbo

p. 237

and eaten these sacrifices to no purpose as it appears! Never have we seen such a thing as this!" So they went away, much amazed. Nevertheless, from that time they left the man in peace, and did not strive to harm him as they had before.

Not long afterwards one of the small brothers fell ill, so Etuk went to the Idiong man and asked the reason. The diviner consulted the oracle, and replied:

"It is because you have carried out the death rites of your mother, and the evil spirits grow impatient, watching for her to die. As she has not yet reached the ghost town, they are trying to take one of your young brothers."

On hearing this, Etuk went home and bought many medicines, he also offered sacrifices to save the boy, but in spite of all that was done the little one died.

The mother herself lived for many, many years. Indeed, it is only about four years since she went to the ghost town, but the son still lives, and has become head chief over all those who formerly wished to kill him, and he now sits as a "member," judging cases in the Eket Native Court.


Footnotes


230:1 A full description of the obsequies of Iboibo chiefs will be found in my husband's book, "By Haunted Waters." Only so much as directly concerns the women is attempted here.

230:2 Mr. W. W. Eakin, of the Kwa Ibo Mission.

231:1 We could learn no reason for this last, seemingly inconsequent, tabu.

[Ɔbenfo Ọbádélé]

This is interesting, particularly the part about those who die untimely deaths coming back to haunt those living. This is also in the Akan concept of At¡fowuo, where those who die bad deaths do the same. We can find this in various Kmtyw societies throughout the continent and Abibiwiase (the Kmtyw world). Meda ase and stay BlackNificent!

Obadele Kwame Kambon