THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE—THE HERDSMAN AND THE ARTISAN
The word “peasant” as applied to the Fulani is, no doubt, a misnomer. I
employ it merely to distinguish the herdsmen from the caste of statesmen
and governors, evolved in Nigeria by the genius of Othman Fodio, but, as
their recorded history throughout Western Africa shows, inherent in this
mysterious race whose moral characteristics have persisted through all
degrees of admixture with the negro. The Fulani peasant is but rarely an
agriculturist in Nigeria, but he plays an important, if indirect, part
in the agriculture of the Hausa provinces. Over the face of the land he
wanders with his great herds—which may number upwards of several thousand
head in one herd—of beautiful hump-backed cattle, mostly white, ever
seeking “pastures new.” Speaking under correction, in Borgu only does
his settlement partake of permanency. Elsewhere he is a wanderer. One
month a given district may be full of Fulani camps, come from where his
fellow-man has but the vaguest of notions. The next, not a single Fulani
will be seen within it. But they return, as a rule, the ensuing year to
their old haunts. To the Hausa farmer the _M’Bororoji_ or “Cow-Fulani”
are an invaluable asset, and he enters into regular contracts with them
for turning their cattle on to his fields; and he buys milk from them.
I struck several of their encampments, at distances hundreds of miles
apart. The first, at the crossing of the Bako, between Badeggi and Bida,
was in charge of a patriarch who might have stepped out of the book of
Genesis: a Semite every inch of him: spare of form, emaciated in feature,
with high cheek-bones, hawk-like nose, flashing, crafty eyes, a long
white beard and a bronzed skin without a trace of black blood.
[Illustration: A FULANI GIRL.]
There is no more interesting sight in Nigeria than a Fulani encampment.
It is usually pitched well away from the beaten track, albeit within
convenient distance of a village. You rub your eyes and wonder if you
can really be in the heart of the Dark Continent, as these gracefully
built, pale copper-coloured men and women—one may say of some of the
young girls with the sun shining on their velvety skins, almost golden
coloured—appear tending their herds and flocks, or standing and sitting
at the entrance to their temporary shelters. Even the latter differ
frequently from the African hut, resembling in shape the wigwam of the
North American Indian. As for the people themselves, you are aware of an
indefinable sentiment of affinity in dealing with them. They are a white,
not a black race.
I have discussed their origin and West African history elsewhere,[8]
and will only say here that delicacy of form, refinement of contour and
simple dignity of bearing distinguish this strange people, just as the
ruling families possess the delicacy of brain and subtlety of intellect
which impress their British over-lords. A fact worth recording, perhaps,
is that while the Hausa woman spins and the Hausa man weaves cotton, the
Fulani woman does both the spinning and the weaving.
If the agricultural life of the Northern Nigerian peoples is a full
one, the industrial life, especially in the northern provinces of the
Protectorate, is equally so. It is an extraordinarily self-sufficing
country at present, and the peasant-cultivator and artisan are
interdependent, the latter supplying the domestic wants and making
the requisite implements for the former. The variety of trades may be
estimated from the old Hausa system of taxation. This system the Fulani
adopted, modifying it slightly here and there by enforcing closer
adherence to the Koranic law, and we are modifying it still further by
a gradual process tending to merge multiple imposts under two or three
main heads, with the idea of establishing a more equitable re-adjustment
of burdens and to ensure greater simplicity in assessment. The Hausa
system provided that taxes should be levied upon basket and mat-makers,
makers of plant for cotton-spinners, bamboo door-makers, carpenters,
dyers, blacksmiths and whitesmiths, as well as upon bee-keepers, hunters,
trappers and butchers. Exemption from taxes was granted to shoe-makers,
tailors, weavers, tanners, potters, and makers of indigo; but market
taxes were imposed upon corn measurers, brokers, sellers of salt,
tobacco, kolas, and ironstone.
The chief agricultural implement is the Hausa hoe, the _galma_, a curious
but efficient instrument, which simultaneously digs and breaks up the
soil and is said to be of great antiquity, but which is easier to draw
than to describe. There is also in daily use among the Hausas a smaller,
simpler hoe and a grass-cutter, while the pagan favours a much heavier
and more formidable-looking tool. This pagan hoe somewhat resembles our
English spade, but is wielded in quite different fashion. Iron drills,
rough hammers and axes, nails, horseshoes, stirrup-irons and bits are
included among the ordinary forms of the blacksmith’s art. Iron-stone
is common in many parts of the country and is extensively worked,
furnaces being met with in every district where the use of the metal is
locally in vogue. It is to be hoped that “Civilization” will not seek
to stamp out this native industry as the tin-miners have done their
best—and, unless the promise made to the smelters of Liruei-n-Kano by
Sir H. Hesketh Bell is not speedily carried out, but too successfully—to
crush the interesting tin-smelting industry. The history of native tin
smelting in Nigeria furnishes a remarkable proof of the capacity of the
Nigerian native, but is too long to set forth here in detail. Suffice it
to say that for a hundred years, a certain ruling family with numerous
branches, has succeeded in turning out a singularly pure form of the
white metal whose sale as an article of trade brought prosperity to the
countryside. When I left the tin district, owing to unjust and stupidly
selfish interference with immemorial rights, the native furnaces had been
closed for nine months and poverty was beginning to replace comparative
affluence.
[Illustration: PANNING FOR IRON.]
[Illustration: DYE-PITS.]
Hoe-handles, mortars, pestles, beds, doors, gins, spindles, bobbins,
looms, shuttles, saddles, riding-boots, sandals, slippers, bridles,
scissors, razors, rope, fishing-nets, earthenware cooking-pots, lamps,
water-bottles and pipes are among the innumerable articles turned out
by the artisan in Northern Nigeria. Indigo dye-pits are to be found in
many towns, but the great tanning centre is Kano. Cloth-beating is a
recognized branch of the former industry. After removal from the circular
pits sunk _à fleur de terre_, the clothes are hung up to dry and then
handed over to the beater. In a dark and spacious hut perspiring men
kneel in rows facing one another on either side of a huge log of wood,
stained black and smooth-polished with constant use, upon which the
cloths are spread and vigorously beaten with rounded wooden mallets. Very
hard work it is, as I can personally testify, having tried my hand at
it, much to the entertainment of the dusky experts. The Kano tanneries
are in appearance disappointing; in odours surpassing anything that can
be imagined. But the product is astonishingly excellent. The completed
skins, dyed deep red or orange with native dyes, the roots, leaves and
bark of sundry shrubs and trees being utilized in the many processes
through which the raw hide passes, are as soft to the touch as Russian
leather. They are greatly appreciated in the Western world, and the trade
is a rapidly increasing one.