images, fish racks may occasionally be seen by the roadside and on, or
between them, the smallest figures of all are to be found. These are
said to represent ‘the slaves of the Eku.’ Each girl, after modelling
her own symbol, makes at least one such little attendant, so that her
image may be well served.
[Illustration: FIG. 37. Group of Eku, near ’Ndelle]
Near Ndelle waterside a somewhat different arrangement obtains. In
front of the long line of Eku, a separate group may usually be found
set round a sapling of the sacred Ogrisi tree. The central figure is
dedicated to the principal girl of the town, while the smaller ones
grouped round her represent her attendants. Near the centre, springing
out of the clay base, was a small sprig of the bush which Ale brought
with her when she first formed the earth.
At the same time of year, when the seed corn and yams lie awaiting
rebirth in the womb of the Earth Mother, the unmarried girls of Elele
carry out a ritual similar in many respects but with certain points
of difference. Here the images are modelled from clay supplied not by
the parents, as is usual in other parts, but by the bridegroom. These
must be rubbed and smoothed for seven days and each is surmounted by a
head, the coiffure of which is carefully copied from that of the girl
herself. Every evening, food offerings are carried to the place where
the Eki are set up, while the girls dance and sing before them. The
bridegroom must provide from sixty to a hundred Awarawu manillas during
this time, which are accepted by the parents as part of the dowry.
Often these strange images are modelled with breasts in addition to
the male emblem. Is it an unwarrantable assumption to think that this
may possibly be intended as a primitive attempt at picturing the ideal
marriage, in which male and female attributes play equal parts? This
peculiarity is not confined to the Eku but is even more marked in many
Ibudu, as for instance the one already mentioned at the Umo Alipo
compound, Omo Chuku (see p. 66).
Some time after all the Eki have been set up in the farms, compounds
and bush round Elele, preparations are made for the carrying out of a
further ceremony, called Nwan Aja, _i.e._ Child of the Earth, which is
said to be closely related to the festival already described. For this,
the unmarried girls of Elele go out to the bush and search round until
each has found one of the great mounds thrown up by termites. ‘With
the help of relatives she digs down into this until she comes to the
heart of the cave, named in our speech Wekwe Eruru.’ The floor of this
looks like a mountain range in miniature. Breathless with excitement,
the little maid counts the number of peaks; for just as many as there
are of these, so many babes she will bear. With infinite pains, that
not one may be broken off, she cuts round, then lifts the flat, roughly
circular mass to her head and carries it home. This is a time of great
anxiety; for, should any part break away during the process, the number
of fallen points denotes--alas!--the still-born babes which fate will
send her.
[Illustration: FIG. 38. The Wekwe Eruru]
In some places all the girls of the quarter join together to seek out
an ant hill and dig up the part in which dwells the queen ant. ‘One
of their number is appointed to carry this thing, which is then borne
back to the town and set down on the road near some of the principal
compounds. All stand watching to see in what direction the ants will
go; for the way they take points out the compound in which the girls
are to live until the time of the new yam harvest. There they must
stay in seclusion, grinding cam-wood and preparing for the approaching
festival. Thither their future husbands come bringing palm-wine, yams
and fish, together with six Awarawu manillas as dash for the owner of
the compound.’
From many indications we had long suspected that the magic powers of
the ant hill proceeded, in part at least, from its phallic resemblance.
This was borne out by the number of Ibudu shrines, avowedly raised for
the increase of children, before which these curious structures, known
in these parts as ‘Bush-men,’ were found. In several, one of these
lesser ant hills had been set up amid the special ‘servants of the
Juju’ modelled on either hand of the principal image. Such an one is to
be seen in the shrine of Ezum Mezum, erected within the compound of the
Aro chief Ogunda of Azu-Miri near Nkarahia. On each side of the pillar
stand her ‘servants.’ The nearest, a conventionalised phallic pillar
surmounted by a head and with a little doorway in its tower-like base,
through which one of the small elongated chalk cones--offered by every
woman of the compound after conception--is seen, half in and half out,
so as to appear in the act of entering. Next to this, but further from
the image, is a natural ant hill, daubed with paint, against which
leaned several of the lesser symbols.
These chalk cones or images, though more roughly moulded, bear
considerable resemblance to those carefully modelled in clay and
suspended over their father’s shrine by each ‘true daughter’ of an
Ibibio chief in the Mkpokk region to show that they were the legitimate
offspring of the dead man, not of slaves, or of ‘widows’ born to the
house, of whom he was only titular parent.
[Illustration: FIG. 39. The ‘Servants of Ezum Mezum’]
At the end of their period of seclusion in Nwan Aja’s compound, the
girls of Elele put on new cloths and gay ornaments, then sally forth to
market (Eke Oma). This is a sign that the play is ended for the time.
Every other year a special play is given. According to Mr. D. Braid:
‘This cannot be carried out more often, on account of the great
expense incurred therein by the bridegroom. The name of this
play is Ajiji’--in some places Adidi or Adadi--‘and it is one
of the best of all plays for girls and ladies. It looks grand
whenever they start same. They dress with brass ornaments,
corals, etc., on their feet, all which expenses are run by
the husbands, with the exception of the anklets for one foot
which the parents are expected to provide. The brass ornaments
are prepared by the blacksmiths, from nine Awarawu manillas
for growing up ladies and four to five for younger girls. All
go in procession round the town until they come to a place in
the Omuneta quarter called Ebu, where there is a great tree in
which dwells a certain powerful Juju. Here fowls are sacrificed
and cut in such a manner that blood falls upon the feet of each
girl. After this has been done, they sing all kinds of songs,
dancing with great gladness for some hours.’
Both on the way there and back those girls who are about to
marry rich men are carried in decorated chairs, with a canopy
fastened above them. Bearers are hired for this service by the
future husbands. During the Ajiji ceremony many ghosts flock
into the town. In olden days, these would strike the girls as
they were borne by; because spirits are jealous of any mortal
whose feet are not set upon the ground. A bride thus struck
always sickens and usually dies within the year. That is the
reason why, nowadays, each girl holds a picture before her, so
that the ghosts may strike at this and let her go by unharmed.
On reaching home a feast is given by the parents and next
morning all the girls take chop to the husbands’ place. This
food is distributed to all in his compound, together with
rewards of money. The bridegroom is expected to do the same
in return and all the expenses incurred by him at this time
are counted as dowry. The play generally lasts for seven Ekes,
_i.e._ about two months.
In October 1916, just outside Elele, on the Nkarahia road, a group
of specially interesting symbolic images was found. It consisted in
roughly modelled male and female figures, arranged in pairs and lying
outstretched at the base of a great cotton tree (Akpu). The bays,
formed by its buttress-like roots, were separated from one another
by giant snakes moulded in clay, which, arranged in irregular loops,
usually with the tail of one against the tail of the other, served to
fence off the sacred enclosure from the wayside. Within the various
bays thus formed smaller serpents twined and twisted, often placed
between the male and female figures. In one case the phallic serpent
was shown in the act of entering the body of a woman.
Dotted over the slope, forked sticks were seen driven into the ground
or raised on little clay mounds. From these depended strings of great
snail shells (_Acatina marginata_) or empty fish racks, in shape much
like the head of a Badminton racquet.
This group, the name of which was given as Akpu Ogbe Ajiji, had been
modelled by maidens of marriageable age belonging to Chief Woyike’s
compound as an additional means of increasing fertility.
[Illustration: FIG. 40. Clay figures at base of cotton tree near Elele]
[Illustration: FIG. 41. Figures at base of cotton tree near Elele
_See p. 94_]
Just beyond Elele Aliminni, on the Ndelle road, a great tree may be
found to the Genius of which the unmarried girls of the neighbourhood
go and pray during the Ajiji--locally called Adidi--ceremony. Three
circular clay steps are built, one above the other, round the
base of the tree and reaching about four feet up its trunk, forming
a rough altar upon which piles of _Acatina marginata_ shells and
empty fish racks (Paka Eji) were laid. A few yards further, in front
of the compound of Chief Ofonda, a large terminal bud of the banana
flower-spike, pierced with four slivers of wood was set up on a tall
palm stalk. This bud is called Eni Awsoku, _i.e._ navel of plantain or
banana. It is natural enough that these two trees should bear special
significance in the fertility rites. The combination of phallic-shaped
fruit and terminal bud with its oval form offers an obvious symbol of
the male and female reproductive organs.
[Illustration: FIG. 42. The Eni Awsoku]
After building the Adidi altar and setting up Eni Awsoku, the
celebrants go in procession round the town, their faces rubbed with
chalk of a pale café au lait shade and their hair covered with bright
yellow paste. From a distance this colouring gives them a curiously
European look. At the back, hanging round the waist, they wear a kind
of apron of large glass beads, arranged in alternate squares, usually
green and brown in colour, the whole fringed with little brass balls.
After a girl has been given in marriage and has gone to live with her
husband, she may never again take part in the Ajiji play. At the end of
the series of Eku ceremonies, which last, roughly speaking, from the
ending of farm planting to harvest time, the whole town of Elele goes
to Chief Eleche’s compound for the feast of new yams which is held in
honour of the great Juju Aya-Eke. On this occasion every man, woman
and child bears a gift to the priest. Even little babes, too small to
stand alone, are borne before him. The mothers press a gift into the
tiny hands and then hold them out towards the chief that not even the
smallest should fail to make offering.
The name Ajiji, given by Ibo to the greatest play in the series, would
seem to be derived from Aja (sacrifice), which is also in some parts
the name of the Earth Goddess herself, and Ji (yam).
VIII
THE YAM CULT
At the cutting of new farms most Ibo chiefs make sacrifice to Ale and
again before harvest. Beside offerings to her, some should also be made
to the Ajokko-Ji[18] or Njokkoji--the king (or Juju) yam, the biggest
one of all the crop in which the yam spirit is thought to take up its
abode. This is always set aside from one season to another, and when
bird or beast is slain in sacrifice to the Genius of the farm, the
blood is thrown upon the Ajokko-Ji.
Should a man find that he has more yams one year than in the
seasons before, he brings the richest sacrifice in his power
and offers it in thanks to the Farm Spirit for giving increase
and doing good to him. The word Ajokko means Juju, but it is
also used with the signification of ‘great’ and ‘mighty.’ This
king yam, as it is sometimes called, is kept throughout the
whole year until next harvest comes round. Either fowls’ or
goats’ blood should be poured out in libation upon it. Formerly
a spirit dwelt within, which protected all the yam racks in the
farm. Now, owing to the dying out of such beliefs, people are
not afraid to steal from these. In olden days they never dared
to do such a thing for dread of the yam Juju.
While visiting Oppe, a farm settlement just outside Alessa, we were
shown a ‘strong Juju’ connected with the worship of Nkike, the Mbolli
Earth Goddess. This was formed from a collection of skulls, yams and
other roots, bound round with tie-tie into the form of a gigantic
yam and then attached to a stout stake, the end of which was sharply
pointed for driving into the ground. This symbol was said to take,
for the Mbolli, the place of the giant Ajokko-Ji to which Ibo offer
sacrifice.
[Illustration: FIG. 43. Ife Ja Okko or Ife Ajokko at Ogu]
A more elaborate substitute was found at Ogu on the Niger--a town
occupied by a sub-tribe of Ibo, allied to those of Onitsha. There,
in the house of one of the secondary chiefs, a row of small pots was
seen, set in the clay floor, along one side of the verandah. These were
explained as the Ife Ajokko--called Ife Ja Okko by some--which for
this tribe take the place of the Ajokko-Ji. There were nine pots of
different shape; the number was explained by saying that, as each chief
succeeded to the headship of the house, a new Ife Ajokko was made.
Eight, therefore, were those belonging to the ancestors.
Among Mbolli the phallic pillars are of a peculiar type mostly carved
from wooden blocks instead of being built in clay. Of these, the one
in the Juju house at Obudu may be taken as typical. Such bear the name
Obo Esa--the four hundred yams--and are specially raised as a means of
increasing the crops.
When a fresh farm is cut, a special ceremony is carried out to induce
the yam spirit to transfer its abode from the old farm to the new.
The basket in which the great yam is contained, or post to which it
is bound, is usually kept near a sapling of the tree which over the
greater part of the West Coast is regarded as most sacred of all.
This is a variety of Dolichandrone--strangely named considering the
functions ascribed to it by natives--called by Kalahari Odumdum and by
Ibo Ogrisi.
Among Ekoi, Efik and Ibibio, this beautiful tree with its glossy
imparipinnate leaves and great clusters of pinkish-mauve flowers, is
known as ‘The Mother of the Town,’ and a sapling of it is planted in
nearly every compound. The finest specimen ever seen by us was found in
one of the town playgrounds at Ikotobo in the Eket District.
Within the hollow trunk stood native pots filled with
offerings, for to it come wives, young and old, to pray that
‘plenty piccans’ may be sent to bless their hearths. Hither,
too, come ancient women to beg a like boon for their children
and grandchildren. Should lightning shiver the ancient trunk
or tornado strike it down, loud would be the wailing of those
who had grown up beneath its shadow.[19]
It is unusual that trees of this species grow to such a size; yet very
few compounds in the Ibo country are without a sturdy sapling, for not
only its fertility-bestowing but also its purificatory powers are held
in the utmost reverence. Should a Kalabari woman meet with vexation
which causes her to shed tears while cooking her husband’s food, it is
thought that this will have ill results upon him unless, before serving
it, she plucks some of the sacred leaves, draws them over her body and
then strikes them upon the ground round about, that the evil effect of
her tears may be negatived and her husband not suffer therefrom.
Not only is the Ajokko-Ji usually kept beneath the shelter of these
sacred boughs, unless confided to the care of the ghosts in some
ancestral shrine, but the Ogrisi itself becomes a symbol of the yam
spirit. It was principally in this capacity, as emblem of the chief
crop of the year, that at the death of each chief important enough
to own an Obiri (reception room)--_i.e._ every head of a family of
standing--a slave was killed as a sacrifice to the sacred tree.
Such unfortunate members of the community were well fed for several
days, during which everything was done to cause them to be of good
cheer and in perfect condition. Then they were robed in gay apparel and
led forth to the sacred tree, where their throats were cut in such a
manner that the blood flowed to the ground, fertilising the earth about
its roots. No portion of such victims was ever eaten; their bodies
were buried near by that thus Mother Ale might be enriched and induced
to grant plentiful crops to those who brought her the offering.
The following information concerning the great Elele yam cult, Aya-Eke,
was gleaned from Mr. D. Braid, for several years Native Court clerk of
this town:
The compound where the Juju is kept is called Omo-Kpurukpu and there,
from election until death--at most seven years later, even should the
full term of office be completed--the priest dwells, carefully guarded
by all his people and never crossing the threshold unless called forth
by some grave emergency. The reason for this restriction is that up to
a few years ago any man who succeeded in killing the holder of this
office would reign in his stead.
The whole prosperity of the town, especially the fruitfulness of farm,
byre and marriage bed, was linked with his life. Should he fall sick,
it entailed famine and grave disaster upon the inhabitants, and there
is reason to believe that, in such a case, facilities were offered to
a successor. Under no circumstances did the term of office last for
more than seven full years. This prohibition still holds; but since
the coming of Government it is said that another of the same family,
who must always be a strong man, may be chosen to take up the position
in his stead. No sooner is a successor appointed, however, than the
former priest is reported to ‘die for himself.’ It was frankly owned
that, before Government came--_i.e._ some dozen years ago--things were
arranged differently in that, at any time during his seven years’ term,
the priest might be put to death by one strong and resourceful enough
to overcome him.
In answer to the question as to whether, in view of the fate known
to follow after so short a period, it was not difficult to find men
willing to succeed to the office on such terms, Mr. Braid answered in
a somewhat surprised tone: ‘Oh, no! Many wish for the post, because so
much wealth is brought them at the annual festival that they become
very rich--past all others in the town.’
Our informant also stated that, during his own term of office, Chief
Eleche has only once been known to pass beyond the compound walls. The
occasion was as follows:
A fellow townsman accused him of making a Juju to kill the complainant.
The case came into court and, all unconscious of the excitement which
such a proceeding must cause, the chief was bidden to attend and answer
the charge. He arrived, accompanied by nearly all the townsfolk, who
not only filled the courtyard, which is a very large enclosed space,
but thronged the market-place outside. They came, in a state of great
anxiety, to watch over the sacred priest and guard him, so far as in
them lay, from any misfortune the effects of which, it was believed,
would at once react on all the countryside.
Doubtless Mr. Braid would have been less ready to impart information
of this nature, had it not been that he was about to leave the place,
in all probability never to return, and had therefore nothing to
fear from the townspeople. So soon as other official work allowed,
I returned to Elele to adjust some difficulties which had meantime
arisen, and also with the hope of gleaning further knowledge concerning
Aya-Eke and its priest.
First I looked up the case in the course of which Eleche was summoned
to appear. This was recorded under No. 353 and was heard on 7th
December, 1914. It runs, in substance, as follows:
Yenanu, the plaintiff, stated on oath:
About two years ago I fell sick and the native doctors told me
that people of my compound were trying to kill me. I therefore
called a family meeting, in which the big men decided that Juju
should be sworn for me. Eleche performed the ceremony, calling
upon the Juju to slay anyone guilty of trying to bring about
my death before new corn time. If this happened, they agreed
to pay me four hundred manillas, four demi-johns of tombo, a
basket of yams and a bottle of gin. Should no one die, it would
prove that the accusation was untrue and I myself must pay the
like amount in compensation for bringing a false charge. The
time fixed upon had not expired when one of the men died, but I
did not ask for payment.
Nine months after swearing Juju, the accused called me at Oka’s
compound and informed me that it was now young corn time; yet
no one had died, therefore I must pay the amount agreed upon.
This I refused to do since one of them had been slain by the
Juju. Then they conspired together and gave orders that I
should be killed; also they put Juju in my well to prevent me
and my people from getting water. Certain Jujus were also hung
on the road to my farm by Eleche and Okuku. On this I went to
Chief Chioma and related the whole matter. He advised me not
to eat any yams from the farm near which the Juju was placed.
After this they ordered me to clean a portion of the road, but
seeing that they were seeking to kill me I refused and went to
work with Chief Chioma’s people. After the road was finished, I
was called before a meeting at Woda’s house, where they ordered
me to break down my compound and take all my properties to
Chioma’s quarter.
Oluene, witness for plaintiff, stated on oath:
I was present at the family meeting when the accused consulted
together and made a rule that anyone who saw Yenanu should kill
him; nor did any of our people allow him to take fire, etc.,
from their houses.
The case was dismissed, but the complainant died soon after. Next Eke
day, Eleche, wearing his Juju hat trimmed with seven eagle’s feathers
and the tail of a parrot, sallied forth, followed by all his people, to
hold a progress throughout the town, while his attendants triumphantly
proclaimed that Aya-Eke had slain the man who dared to summon her
priest before mortal tribune.
On arrival at Elele our next step was to seek further information from
the head men of the town, when these came to salute us. At first, the
result was distinctly disappointing. No one had ever heard of the
Juju or its priest! In fact, on the authority of all the principal
inhabitants, no institution even remotely resembling Aya-Eke existed in
the neighbourhood. Only after the case above quoted was shown to them
did a light dawn upon the chiefs. Ah yes, they said, in very ancient
days they believed there was some such Juju in their town, but the
memory of it had long since died away. As for Eleche, now they came to
think of it, the priesthood had been in his family and possibly even he
might hold that the office had descended to him. Since Government came
to their country however--this with the most ingratiating smile--people
had no use for such old superstitions, which had therefore fallen into
utter neglect and forgetfulness. It was eagerly stated that there were
other customs in their town much more worthy of the notice of the
District Commissioner--for instance, Odo’s Juju, the head priest of
which was immediately found and brought forward. It would indeed be a
pity, they added deferentially, should our time be wasted in enquiries
into matters of so little account as those with which Eleche was
concerned.
It was quite obvious that one and all were anxious to prevent further
investigations and the result of the interview was naturally to send us
hot-foot to the Omo-Kpurukpu quarter of the town, which is separated
from the main section by some half mile of road. Here, in a house
formed of elaborately carved wooden panels--to the best of my belief
the only dwelling of its kind throughout the whole Division--lived
the priest-king Eleche. Before the house stood a rude figure, formed
of a stout post bound round with cloth, crowned with a cap and with
two sticks extending arm-wise at right angles from near the top. This
represented the late priest Eyinda, a brother of the present holder of
the dignity, said to have died about two years ago.