A VISIT TO THE EMIR OF KANO
Kano Province under the British Administration includes a number
of independent Emirates which we found existing and which we have
maintained, viz.: Kano, Katsina, Katagum, Daura, Kazaure and Gummel. The
total area of the Province is 28,600 square miles, _i.e._ almost the size
of Scotland, and its population 2,600,000, or what that of Scotland was
in the middle of last century.
The present Emir, Abbas, a reserved and very dark Fulani, with refined
regular features and long aristocratic hands, is a fine figure of a
man. The description of a visit to him may serve to convey some idea
of the ceremonious etiquette observed at the courts of the Mohammedan
Emirs (Kano being typical of all the great Emirates, with the exception
of Sokoto where formalities are even more elaborate), besides throwing
light upon several questions of interest and moment connected with the
problems of British administration. To depict the Emir’s residence as a
compound built of clay is, while accurate, to give but an inadequate idea
of the imposing character of these solid structures, the best of which
are, with supervision, capable of resisting for centuries the action of
the weather. I am probably understating the case when I say that the tall
and bulky wall—some fifteen feet in thickness—surrounding the residence
encloses five acres. Dismounting at the principal entrance, we are
escorted through the gateway by several functionaries and emerge into a
vast enclosure open to the sky. At its extremity, facing us, is an inner
wall and another deep embrasured gateway leading to the state apartments.
On our right stands the Emir’s private mosque, a building of considerable
proportions but smaller, of course, than the public mosque outside the
walls. Here and there a few picturesque figures are noticeable. For,
perhaps, a minute we wait. Then a blare of trumpets resounds, and through
the inner gateway emerges a brilliant gathering which advances slowly
towards us, the Emir in the midst. Within a dozen yards or so it halts,
and the Emir, separating himself from the throng, greets us with hand
outstretched—the only African in the Emirate to whom etiquette allows
this particular form of salutation with the White man. Towering above
most of the councillors, officers of state and heads of leading families
by whom he is accompanied, and bearing himself with great dignity, the
Emir murmurs some words of welcome. He is dressed entirely in costly
white robes and turban; his feet are encased in ostrich-feather sandals,
a footgear introduced in the sixteenth century by Mohamma Rimfa, the
twentieth Emir of Kano, justly revered for a reign full of years and
usefulness, and he carries the silver-mounted staff of office presented
to all the ruling Emirs by Sir Frederick Lugard after the British
occupation. He invites us to follow him and leads the way in silence to
his apartments, his courtiers closing round us as we proceed. In the same
impressive silence we pass through the inner gateway and find ourselves
in a broad passage flanked on either side by lofty audience chambers
whose dimensions it is difficult to gauge in the semi-obscurity which
reigns within them. At the end of the passage is yet another gateway.
Thenceforth we proceed alone with the Emir and the _Waziri_ or Vizier—the
present holder of that office being a man of great independence and
strength of character, whose fearless candour and ripe judgment have been
of inestimable service in assisting successive Residents to understand
the many complex problems of native administration. Crossing a courtyard
we enter the outer room of the Emir’s private apartments. And here for
an hour we discuss many things, chairs being provided for us while the
Emir and Waziri, in accordance with the etiquette of the country, sit
cross-legged before us. A word as to the architecture and appearance
of the room, which, as we were subsequently to ascertain, is roughly
similar to the audience chambers we have left behind. It is some twenty
to twenty-five feet in height, with an arched roof supported by wooden
beams on the cantilever principle; both beams and roof are, like the
floor, stained a deep black with the varnish obtained from the shell of
the locust bean; a few plates of European manufacture are let into the
supporting rafters; the walls, constructed of the usual sun-baked clay
mingled with other substances, have a glittering appearance due to the
admixture of mica; two doors, an outward and an inward one, of massive
timber bound with iron bars affixed by native nails ornamented with large
circular brass heads, and a divan of rugs and shawls complete a picture
which suggests a certain austere simplicity.
[Illustration: INSIDE KANO CITY.]
After the usual interchange of compliments, I said it was desirable the
Emir should understand clearly in respect to any subjects which might
be touched upon, that I had no connection direct or indirect with the
British Government, or with any British commercial or other interest;
that I was merely visiting his country as an independent traveller, and
would report what I had seen and heard, and that I hoped he would feel
free to tell me frankly what was in his heart, for the people of England
only wished to know the truth. Conversation then ranged over the part of
the province of Kano I had, up to that time, visited; the industry of
the inhabitants, their methods of agriculture, the care they bestowed
upon secondary crops, such as cotton, cassava and onions, the great
city market and the variety of goods sold therein. I expressed a wish
to see the irrigated farms, and the Emir named certain localities near
the city where such farms were to be seen. The increasing prosperity
of the country through the preservation of peace was touched upon _de
part et d’autre_. The antiquity of the city and its interesting records
was the next subject approached. It would, I remarked, be a very great
pity if its essential characteristics were not maintained amid the
innovations which the railway would bring in its train. From that point
of view I ventured to express regret that the ancient walls of the
city were, in parts, falling into disrepair. In time to come future
generations of Kanawa would, I thought, lament the fact. Would it not
be possible to start repairs on one section at first, performing the
needed work gradually, doing a certain amount every year and finishing
section by section? The Emir fully concurred, saying that his people
themselves wished the walls restored. He hoped to deal with the matter,
but thought that it might be easier to commence preliminary repairs on a
general scale rather than start one part and finish that first as I had
suggested. From the question of the wall we turned to the more difficult
one of European traders and educated Native traders from the coast whom
the railway would bring, settling in the city. The Emir remarked that,
while foreign merchants were welcome, it would be better for them and for
the city and its inhabitants if those who wished to trade with the Kanawa
founded places of business at convenient spots outside.
[Illustration: THE EMIR OF KANO ON THE MARCH.]
Missionary propaganda in the Muslimised Hausa States of the north was
next touched upon. The subject has already given rise to discussions
at home, which are being followed in Northern Nigeria with anxious
concern, and such momentous consequences are bound up in it that I felt
it incumbent to ascertain through personal contact, the views of one
of the most important, in a certain measure the most important, of
the Mohammedan chiefs through whom we exercise supreme control. I told
the Emir I would be quite frank with him, and hoped that he would be
equally frank with me. The English people and the Kanawa people, I said,
worshipped the same Almighty Creator of the universe. The English people
followed the teachings of Christ, the Kanawa people the teachings of
Mohammed, and both peoples thought their religion the best. But although
the people of England held firmly to their beliefs, they had no desire to
interfere with that of the Kanawa. Their representative, Sir Frederick
Lugard, had pledged himself in their name to that effect, and the English
people always kept their word. But, I went on, some of my countrymen who
wished well to the Kanawa, thought Christianity could be preached in Kano
without breaking this pledge, because there would be no interference and
no moral pressure would be put upon the people of Kano to change their
religion even though Christian teachers sat down in the city and taught.
The Kanawa could come and hear them, or not, as they pleased. That was
the view held by some of the people in my country. What I wished to
know were the Emir’s opinions in the matter. Did he, or did he not, see
objections to the presence of Christian preachers in the city?
For some time the Emir kept silent, his fingers twitching nervously.
One could see the struggle passing in his mind and realize some of the
difficulties of his own position. Presently he spoke thus—I reproduce the
words as literally as possible:—
“Mohammedanism is a matter of the heart. Our fathers and our
grandfathers were Muslims. For many generations we have been
Muslims. What is the use of preaching if there are no converts?
Even if the Christian missionary tried to meet the native
on equal terms he could not do so because all white men are
Sarikis (chiefs), and the people cannot help so regarding them.
The missionaries might not wish to use force. But they would
exercise pressure amounting to force, because of the prestige
all white men have, and the people would be disturbed and
troubled in their minds.
“There would be unrest.”
I asked the Emir whether he would have any objection to confirming in
writing the views he had expressed. After a further period of silent
consideration, he said he had none. Here is the letter subsequently
received from him, rendered from the Arabic text:—
“Praise to God who only is to be praised.
“Salutations.
“This letter is directed to the stranger, Mr. Morel, who has
come.
“Know that as regards the preaching (of Christianity) which
we discussed here, my opinion is that it were better to stop
it altogether, from the first—because, if our people are
disturbed about their religion they will become suspicious and
afraid. Hence the country will become unsettled. Neither you
nor we desire the country to become unsettled, for that would
be harmful. On the other hand, as regards secular matters and
the affairs of this world, we can do anything—however great
a change it might be—since our people are accustomed to law
and to obey the orders of their rulers as their fathers and
grandfathers were before them. Also, as regards white men
living in the city of Kano, if they do so many of our people
will leave it, since the white men are too strong, and every
one of them is in our eyes, a great man and powerful. The lion
and the lamb cannot lie down together. My opinion is that the
white man who may wish to settle should have a separate town
outside the city of Kano—then we shall have our town and they
will have theirs. This is the wisest course, and far more
advantageous for our subjects than a mixed city of natives and
non-natives.
“Peace.”
At the close of the interview we were reconducted with the same
ceremonious politeness and in the same silence as before to the centre of
the outer enclosure, where we took our leave.