SOCIAL CONDITIONS
By constantly seeing the same people for nearly three months at
Auderas and in the neighbourhood, I was able to dissipate much of
the innate diffidence which the Tuareg display in their relations
with Europeans. Language always remained a source of difficulty. An
interpreter is never satisfactory, more especially if he belongs to a
people whom the Tuareg at heart really despise, while real proficiency
in a language cannot be attained in so short a time as I had at my
disposal. By the end of my stay in Air I had acquired a sufficient
knowledge of Temajegh to be able to travel comfortably with a guide
speaking only that language, and to collect a considerable amount of
vicarious information, but never at any time was I able to discuss
really abstruse questions. At Auderas I was lucky enough to find that
Ahodu, the chief of the village, had a working knowledge of Arabic
which was almost as indifferent as my own; but we both made up for
lack of grammar by volubility. The local “inisilm,” or holy man,
named El Mintaka, was a Ghati who had been settled for fifteen years in
Air, where he had taken a Tuareg wife. He, of course, spoke Arabic in
addition to Temajegh, and acted as scribe to Ahodu, who could neither
read nor write. With these two men in the village, with my servant
Amadu, a Fulani soldier who had served with distinction in the West
African Frontier Force during the war, and had a working knowledge
of English and Hausa, which most of the Air Tuareg speak, and with
my interpreter Ali, a man from Ghat, I found myself quite at my ease.
This Ali ibn Tama el Ghati had lived for some years in Kano and had
travelled all over the Central Sudan. He was small and very black,
but constantly cheerful and as clever as a tribe of monkeys. Somewhat
of a rogue unless watched, he was tireless and devoted, and proved to
be one of only two natives who, after I had been obliged to return
home, completed the whole journey with Buchanan. He was one of the
original race of Ghat, now called the Atara, who were there before
the Tuareg and Berbers came. Ali spoke no English, but was loquacious
in Hausa, Temajegh and Kanuri; he also spoke some Tebu and Fulani,
in addition, of course, to Arabic. His especial joy was to wear many
different combinations of gay clothes for periods of about ten days at
a time. He would then change his apparel and adopt another disguise
until the novelty of appearing as a Tuareg or a Hausa or an Arab in
turn had worn off.
PLATE 16
[Illustration: AUDERAS: HUTS]
[Illustration: AUDERAS: TENT-HUT AND SHELTER]
On reaching Auderas I took up my residence in some huts which Ahodu had
prepared on the edge of a diminutive plateau between the main bed of
the valley and a secondary affluent. The area between the valleys and
ravines which intersected the little plain was bare, but the sides of
the valleys were covered with vegetation. About a hundred yards away
across a steep gully was Teda Inisilman, the House of the Holy Men,
the smallest of the three hamlets which together make up Auderas. On
the other side of the main stream bed, where the water-holes of the
village were dug in the sand, lay the larger hamlet called Karnuka,
containing the house of El Mintaka. The third settlement was a few
hundred yards further down-stream. These hamlets were all built of
reeds and palm fronds, but the little plain was covered with what
proved to be the ruins of stone houses, many of which were inhabited
until 1915. Teda Inisilman is the village of the nobles where Ahodu and
the only other three Imajeghan families of the place lived, together
with their own dependent Irawellan and Ikelan, and the Enad or smith, a
most important person in Tuareg society. Down-stream of Teda Inisilman
and Karnuka lay the date-palm groves and most of the gardens; there
were a few above our camp also, in a side valley and in the main
bed under a huge mass of overhanging rock resembling the keep of a
fortress rising high above the sheer side of the stream. To the south
were only dûm palms and the rugged hills, called Tidrak,[150] which
formed the further edge of the valley. Elsewhere the ground was more
open. Down-stream to the west were the low Mafinet and T’ilimsawin
hills, joining on to the T’inien peaks north of the point where my
road had emerged from among them on the way from Agades. To the north
the ground rose over a low ridge to the Erarar (plain) n’Dendemu,
the Taghist plateau[151] and the distant peak of Dogam.[152] The
glistening black domes of the Abattul and Efaken peaks were rather
nearer, on the far edge of the Auderas valley itself. A few miles
north and north-east, this basin reached to the foot of the mountain
group of Todra, which towers 3000 feet and more above the valley to a
total height of about 5500 feet above the sea. The rounded sides rose
out of a bed of green and yellow to a crest of bare red rock at the
top. The mountain used to change colour all day, a whitish gleam off
the rocks at high noon giving place to blue-black shadows under storm
clouds and in the evening. At sunset it seemed to glow vivid red from
within. It is one of the most beautiful mountains in the world. The
Tuareg regard Todra and Dogam as one group, but separate from the
Bagezan Mountains, and this is certainly the case. They are reckoned
among the five principal massifs of Air, the others being Taruaji
in the south, Bila or Bilet north-west of Todra, and Tamgak which
includes the Azañieres, Tafidet and Taghmeurt ranges in the north.
The advent of Europeans in Auderas caused a certain amount of
excitement, but the novelty soon wore off as the routine of life was
resumed. I was welcomed by Ahodu’s wife and other persons with a
present of fresh dates, which were then ripening,[153] and newly-made
cheese, known as T’ikammar, which is excellent food. The Tuareg
live very simply and take so little trouble about their food that for
Europeans it is almost uneatable. The staple diet is milk and cheese,
but the more sedentary people eat locally grown or imported grain. The
millet is pounded in a mortar as in the south and cooked with water,
making a sort of porridge; but whereas in the Hausa countries this
“pura,” or “fura” as it is called, can be quite palatable
when seasoned or eaten with meat, the Tuareg in Air are too poor and
too lackadaisical to dress it in any way. They often even forget to
add salt, and without it the mess is peculiarly nasty on account of
a certain glutinous consistency which it acquires. The finer flour
obtained from the millet after it is pounded is also mixed with
water and dry powdered cheese and drunk uncooked as very thin gruel;
the dry cheese gives it a sour taste to which in time one gets used,
and then it becomes really rather refreshing if one is thirsty. It
is much better on the march for the stomach than large quantities of
plain water. The drink is called “ghussub” in the south; it is
often the sole means of sustenance of a Tuareg travelling quickly
without baggage or when a scarcity of fuel makes it impossible to
light fires. In the place of millet, guinea corn is also eaten; it
is pounded and baked in embers into a heavy tasteless cake which is
slightly more edible than millet porridge. The best food in Air is
undoubtedly the wheat “kus-kus” of the Arabs and Berbers in the
north: it is made in the same way by grinding wheat into rough flour,
and then steaming and rubbing it until it forms grains about the size
of small barley. It is carried dry and can be prepared by boiling
in water or stock for a short time. It has the great advantage of
requiring very little fuel to cook it. With no other adjunct than
a little salt it is very good indeed. During the latter part of my
stay I lived almost exclusively on kus-kus and rice, with hardly any
meat, but as many vegetables as I could procure. When neither millet,
guinea corn nor wheat is available, the Tuareg collect the seeds of
various grasses and grind them, notably of the grass called Afaza
and of the prickly burr grass. The former is a tall grass with stems
of such strength that they are used when dry with a weft of thin
leather strips for making the stiff mats which are spread upon their
Tuareg beds. The stalks grow as much as five feet high; the grass
is dark grey-green when fresh, or yellow when dry. The burr grass is
fortunately rare in Air. One can only be thankful that Nature has found
some useful purpose in this damnable plant as food for the Tuareg.
Of all the Tuareg food their cheese is best. It is usually made of
equal parts of sheep’s or goat’s and camel’s milk, but any
of them alone will do. The rennet is obtained from the entrails of
the goat; the curds are pressed in matting made of dûm-palm fronds
and formed into cakes about 4 in. × 5 in. × ¾ in. thick. The
fresh cheese is pure white and soft, but nevertheless crisp; it is
delicious with dates or with any other form of food, for it has
no sour or “cheesy” flavour. It dries yellow and hard and is
carried about by all Tuareg as a staple commodity, but in this state
requires soaking or crumbling before use, and acquires rather an
unpleasant sour smell. Butter is made of goat’s or sheep’s milk,
churned in bottle-shaped gourds or in small skins. It is not bad
mixed with kus-kus or rice or in cooking, but indifferent on bread or
biscuits. Meat is very little eaten, for it is a luxury. But even when
an animal is slaughtered and divided up the Tuareg do not seem capable
of turning it into a very edible dish. They neither roast nor fry;
they either stew their meat in a pot with vegetables or with millet
porridge, or on the march broil it in the hot sand under the embers of
a fire until it becomes shredded. If ever there is a surplus supply
of meat, it is preserved by soaking in brine and drying in the sun
strung on cords.
The preparation of food in the villages is done by the women, on
the march by the “buzu,” or, where there is no slave present,
by the youngest member of the party, whatever his caste or status, so
long as he has not reached his majority. When there are no minors or
slaves an Amghid does the work, but where all are of the same caste,
the duty reverts once more to the youngest member of the party. The
most arduous function is preparing the millet flour. Nowadays the
millet is almost invariably pounded in a mortar with a long pestle,
and the meal is then graded and separated from the husk and other
impurities by shaking it with a circular motion on a flat tray. The
mortar and long pestle, which is used by men and women standing up and
working alone or pounding rhythmically with one or more companions,
is certainly a southern invention; the wooden pestle is double-headed
and some 3 feet long; the mortar is cut out of one piece of wood
and stands about 12 inches high. The indigenous and more primitive
fashion is to grind grain on the rudimentary saddle-stone quern, a
form which has been preserved unchanged since prehistoric times. A
large flat stone is placed on the ground, and the person grinding
the wheat or millet kneels by it with a basket under the opposite
lip of the stone to catch the flour as it is made. The wheat or other
grain is poured on to the flat stone and crushed by rubbing it with
a saddle-stone or rounded river pebble about the size of a baby’s
head, held in both hands and worked forwards and backwards. As the
grain is crushed the flour is automatically sorted out and pushed
forward into the basket in front, the heavier meal remaining on the
flat stone. These querns may be seen lying about all over Air on all
the deserted sites; the lower stones can readily be recognised by the
broad channel which is worn along their length. Except for wheat,
which is too hard to be pounded, they have largely been discarded
in favour of the handier mortar and pestle. I do not think a more
widespread use of the quern necessarily indicates that wheat was more
extensively eaten than millet in olden days nor yet that agriculture
was formerly more pursued than nowadays. The explanation of the fact
is merely that pounding grain in a mortar was found a simpler method
in a country where millet was the staple cereal and the consumption
of wheat a luxury. Moreover, the Northern Tuareg when they came to
Air were probably less familiar with millet than with wheat, and only
modified their habits and utensils after they had settled down.
Though certain wild herbs are employed for medicinal purposes, I know
of none which is used in cooking. Besides Afaza and the burr grass,
several other seeds or berries are used by the more nomadic Tuareg
for food; there are said to be some twenty odd varieties in Air which
ripen at various times of the year. The Abisgi (_Capparis sodata_)
leaf has a biting taste and is sometimes used as a condiment; the
tamarind does not grow so far north; limes are found only in Bagezan,
and are rare. Dates are eaten fresh, or are preserved by soaking them
for a short time in boiling water, and pressing them into air-tight
leather receptacles, which are then sewn up. The practice of drying
dates and threading them on a string is resorted to in Fashi and
Bilma but not in Air.
Food is cooked in pear-shaped earthenware pots of red clay. The
vessels are only half baked when they are manufactured, principally
in the Agades neighbourhood, and have to be fired before they can be
used. They are plain and unornamented, with a lip or rim round the
mouth, which is bound with a cord to prevent cracking. More elaborate
pitchers with a blue design are used for liquids, since the universal
calabash of the south is comparatively rare in Air.[154] These pots are
also made near Agades. The designs appear to be of local origin. The
Sudanese jars and pots with bands of geometric design in straw-coloured
slip and blue pigment are not used in Air. Many small pots for inks,
spices and condiments are found in the houses of Northern Air: black
and red pottery is used for such vessels and for saucers and little
bowls. With the exception of what may be termed the “grape design”
(Plate 22), none of the pottery is very remarkable. The pots used
in the urn cemetery at Marandet seem to have been shaped like the
common cooking-pot or with a slightly more round appearance: they
are reported to have stood in saucers or plates. None of the pottery
is wheel-turned.
Auderas being essentially a sedentary and servile community, did
not contain many characteristic noble Tuareg. Neither Ahodu nor his
wife represents the fine physical type of the race, for he is of
somewhat mixed parentage, having, according to his own tradition,
some Arab blood in his veins, while she is a Kanuri woman. Among
the Tuareg, as in all races, it is hard to find the absolutely pure
type. I came across one or two examples, and must count myself lucky
to have seen so many. I was never able to confirm the story one had
so often heard of Tuareg with blue eyes, but such accurate observers
have recorded this feature that its occurrence must be admitted. In
Air it must certainly be most uncommon; nowhere is it the rule; light
brown and grey eyes, however, are not unusual, nor is it rare to see
hair which is not so much black as dark brown and wavy; it is never
crinkled or “fuzzy” unless there has been an obvious infusion of
negro blood. Very fair skins, as fair as among the people of Southern
Europe, are comparatively frequent, but the transparent white skin
of the North is not known: no deduction can be drawn from this, as
skin pigmentation is notoriously unreliable. Fair skins are held by
the Tuareg to represent the purest type: a range of every shade to
the black of the negro occurs. The Tuareg of Air differentiate the
colouring of people somewhat arbitrarily: they call the pure negro
“blue,”[155] but the dark-brown Hausa, “black”; the Arab
is always “white,” whatever shade of bronze he happens to be;
the Tuareg himself is “red,”[156] which is the most complimentary
epithet he can apply to others. Fairness of complexion is much prized
and is a social distinction, though when carried to such extremes as
among Europeans it is apt to be regarded as strange and odd. Certain
tribes in Air are reputed, even among the Tuareg, to be more than
usually fair. When von Bary was in Air his acquaintances seem to
have chaffed him about his celibacy; they offered to find him a
woman of the Iwarwaren tribe, for, they said, she would match his
own complexion.[157] Once on a time in Auderas I dressed completely
as a Tuareg, a disguise which was not difficult, for I had grown
a full dark beard and was very deeply sunburnt all up my arms and
legs from wearing a sleeveless tunic, diminutive shorts and no shoes
or stockings—the ideal garb for hot weather and an active life. I
rode into the village on a great white camel by a circuitous path:
the people were puzzled about my identity, and some, as I was later
told, decided from the colour of my limbs that I came from the Igdalen
tribe. It was typical of the Tuareg that they eventually recognised
not me, but my camel, and so guessed who I was.
PLATE 17
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR DRESSING A WOUND AT AUDERAS]
In spite of the occurrence of many fair-skinned people, it must
be admitted that the vast majority of Imajeghan and Imghad in Air
are comparatively dark, yet these Tuareg are among the purest of
their race. Their skin pigment seems to have changed before other
characteristics. The darkness of their complexion in Air is accentuated
by the prize set upon indigo clothing, which is so impregnated with
dye that it wears off on the skin of the proud owner, whose ablutions
are conspicuously infrequent. The Tuareg does not believe in washing
unless it is absolutely necessary, and he avers that an indigo-stained
skin is good protection against strong sunlight, which may or may not
be true. In justice to my friends, I must admit that they washed their
clothing, especially their white trousers, very frequently, and when
they washed their person, they did so very thoroughly from head to
foot, with much rubbing and a prodigious splashing of volumes of water.
The beauty and grace of their bodies are the principal characteristics
of the Tuareg. They are tall, more commonly in the neighbourhood of
six feet than shorter. They look much taller owing to their flowing
robes. When at rest they have little superficial muscular development;
their bodies are not corrugated and knobbly like the powerfully built
Latin: they are more like Nordic folk in that their limbs and backs are
smooth until exerted, when the muscles stand up hard and tough. Their
arms and legs are long and shapely and exceedingly graceful; they never
have flaccid or cylindrical limbs like Abyssinians or certain Indian
races. Their bones are small. They have wrists and ankles as slender
as a woman’s; it is noteworthy that whatever the degree of negro
admixture this sign of high breeding is the last to disappear. It is
a most infallible mark of pure Tuareg parentage. With it, of course,
go slenderness and refinement of hands and fingers. The men never
grow fat: they are hard and fit and dry like the nerve of a bow,
or a spring in tension. Of all their characteristics the one I have
most vividly in mind is their grace of carriage. The men are born
to walk and move as kings, they stride along swiftly and easily,
like Princes of the Earth, fearing no man, cringing before none,
and consciously superior to other people.
Grace and mystery are added to their appearance by the veil over the
face and by their long black robes, which are called “takatkat.”
They are of plain indigo black cotton stuff, and though some are
embroidered on the breast, the old-fashioned men shun such ornament
as ostentatious. More rarely their robes are white. Their dress,
to be in good taste, must above all be simple. Silk is hardly known
and not in great demand: plain native cloth made up of many narrow
slips sewn together to the desired width is esteemed superior to the
European sorts. Buchanan had brought for presents an indigo stuff
of excellent quality, made in Lancashire and better than anything
of the sort that could be bought in Kano. It was much appreciated,
but as it had a thin white stripe in it, not a single man would wear
it for a dress. They gave it to their women for skirts.
Broad Moslem trousers called “takirbai” are worn beneath the robe;
they are always of white cotton. Sometimes a tanned goat or sheep
skin is worn around the loins below the trousers, more especially in
bush country where burr grass is very prevalent.[158]
The best sandals used to be made in Agades only, but since the
emigration of so many craftsmen from Air they can now also be procured
in Kano, and more cheaply. They are of a shape peculiar to the Tuareg
and are much in demand all over the Sahara. The form is pleasing:
it is wide and round under the toes, slender under the instep,
and at the heel, and just broad enough to carry the weight of the
body. They are made of two thicknesses sewn together with neat white
raw-hide stitching; the top piece is of red leather with a stained
black border: the lower piece is of raw hide. Two red straps from
the sides level with the instep join a thong, which passes under the
top leather and is fastened between the two thicknesses of the sole
in order to protect the sewing from wear on the ground. The thong is
slipped between the big and second toes; the red straps pass over the
breadth of the foot to the sides of the sandal. The heel is free. It
is the ideal footwear in sandy country, as nothing can collect on the
surface and rub the foot. I wore nothing else for nine months and can
vouch for the comfort of these sandals. They are usually made in two
sizes[159]; the correct pattern for all those who can afford them is
12 inches long and 6 inches broad across the toes. This great surface,
leaving several inches all round the breadth of the foot, gives much
support on loose sand, on which it rests like a platform. Many other
forms of improvised sandals are made, covering the sole and sometimes
the sides of the foot, but the most ingenious home-made type I saw
was woven in a few minutes of green dûm-palm fronds. These sandals
were really a sole of palm matting under the foot: they have the
advantage of costing nothing and, when the fronds are still green, of
being supple and springy in any weather, whereas the leather sandals
become flaccid on wet ground. They are, however, not proof against
long acacia thorns, as I learnt to my cost. During the rains I used
to have a new pair made for me every day by Ahodu’s son, aged nine,
at the grossly excessive rate of about 6_d._ a dozen. The best leather
sandals cost as much as 6_s._ a pair at Agades nowadays.
Walking barefoot over loose sand in time produces severe cracks in
the sole of the foot. The ball of the big toe and the inside part of
the foot are particularly liable to be affected. In cold dry weather
it is common to see men rubbing fat into the callous skin of their
feet and warming them in front of a fire to soften the leather,
for when a crack has begun to appear it is very difficult to induce
healing. The skin of their feet is so insensible and thick that men
often take a needle and thread and sew up their sole as one would mend
a sandal. Some form of foot-wear is likewise desirable when there are
many thorns about, and in the bush, where burrs find their way into
the tender skin between the toes. As I often wore no foot-covering at
all my feet became very hard, but I contrived on several occasions
to pick up thorns, which went as much as three-quarters of an inch
into the sole of my foot. I well remember how the extraction of these
spikes used to cause a most peculiar form of pain; it produced almost
physical sickness. Curiously enough, these wounds never seemed to get
septic, and I have always wondered why. For several months I did have
septic sores on my feet and legs whenever a rub or scratch occurred,
but they were principally due to being run down after malaria and the
rainy season. Acacia thorns or burrs in my feet never became infected.
With a veil, robe, trousers and sandals, the wardrobe of the Tuareg is
complete. Some carry a white blanket of heavy native cotton stuff known
in Nigeria as “Kano cloth,” woven in six-inch strips sewn together,
with a blue border and fringe. But the article is a product of the
Southland and almost seems to be considered a luxury in Air, where few
men have any additional clothing or covering in cold weather. Some
wear the conical hats of Kano basket-ware associated with the Hausa
countries, but the practice is regarded as an affectation and is not
very common.[160]
The scantiness of the clothing of the Tuareg in Air is very
remarkable. Their robe is admirably suited for hot weather, since any
covering which hangs in loose folds over the back is good protection
against the sun. The garment consists of two large squares of stuff,
forming the front and back, the height of a man’s shoulder, or say
about 5 feet × 5 feet. The two lower corners of the squares are sewn
together, the bottom and sides are left open. The top is sewn up except
for a space of about 18 inches where the head is put through, and a
slit with a pocket is cut on the breast. The sides of the upper part
either fall down the arms or can be looped up over the shoulders to
leave them clear. As the sides are open, the circulation of air under
the robe is quite free. In cold weather the ample volume of the robe
enables it to be wrapped well around the body, nevertheless it is very
inadequate protection when the thermometer falls to freezing point. It
speaks highly of the hardihood of these people that they wear this
garment only throughout the year in spite of variations in temperature,
such as in December I encountered on my way south through Azawagh,
of as much as 60° F. in twenty-four hours. The three Tuareg with me
had no sort of extra covering for the night until I gave them a ground
sheet in which to wrap themselves near the fire. But they discarded
it, because the canvas, as they said, “attracted the cold” more
than did the sand. The dying embers of a fire warmed the soles of
their feet, but the rest of their bodies must have been frozen.
The Tuareg woman wears a long piece of indigo cloth rolled round her
body as a skirt and tucked in at the waist. Over her shoulders is
a garment which resembles a sleeveless coat, but is really a small
square of light indigo or black stuff with a hole for the head. The
ends hang down in front and behind to the level of the waist, the sides
are open. She never veils her face; the upper garment, or a dark cloth
worn over the head like a nun’s hood, may be drawn across the face,
but more often in coquetry, I think, than in prudery. This upper
garment is sometimes embroidered with a simple cross-stitch pattern
around the neck; usually it is a piece of plain native cloth made,
like the robes of the men, of narrow bands sewn together. Women who
can only afford one piece of stuff wear it wound round their bodies
close under the armpits, though, as a general rule, it may be said
that there is no feeling of immodesty involved in exposing the body
above the waist.[161]
This ease of garb among the women and their unveiled countenances are
in keeping with the perfect freedom which they enjoy. Irrespective
of caste or circumstance, whether they be noble or slave, rich or
poor, the women of the People of the Veil are respected by their men
in a manner which has no parallel in my experience. It is the more
significant in a Moslem people, inasmuch as Islam has not hitherto
taught the men of the Eastern world to treat their women-folk as their
equals, still less as their betters. In saying this much I write in
no depreciatory spirit, for the Western world has happily long ceased
to regard the followers of Muhammad’s teaching of the Faith of the
One God as heathen or pagan. But the morals and ethical code of Islam
differ most essentially from those of the north of Europe and America
precisely in regard to women; and in this respect Islam has lagged
behind. But even in European countries the complete emancipation of
women is only a modern development which may perhaps have just begun
in Islam. Yet judged by our Northern standards the Tuareg have much
in common with ourselves. So strange in Africa seems their conduct
to women, that early travellers called them the Knights-Errant of
the Desert Roads. The extent to which they have earned this name is
their justifiable pride.
Their women have position and prerogatives not yet achieved by their
sisters in many of those countries which we term “civilised.” The
Tuareg women are strong-minded, gifted and intelligent. They have
their share in public life; their advice is proffered and sought
in tribal councils. Contrary to Moslem practice and to that of many
European societies, a Tuareg woman may own property in her own name,
and, more than that, may continue to own and administer it after
her marriage without interference by her husband, who has no rights
over it whatsoever. At death a woman’s property, unless otherwise
disposed of in satisfaction of her expressed wish, is divided in
accordance with the Moslem laws of inheritance, but if her family
has been provided for as custom demands, she may bequeath what is
over as she pleases. There are many instances of Tuareg women of
noble birth being heiresses or receiving a share of property which
has become available, by conquest or the extinction of some group,
for distribution generally among the community. Sometimes, if a tribe
moves away from an old area, the community goes so far as to divide up
and settle the free land on the chief women, who become, as Duveyrier
has called them,[162] the “femmes douairières” of the Tuareg.
Their bravery is famous in Africa. Instances are not lacking where
they have played great parts in war. In one engagement in Air the Kel
Fadé women led their men into battle, covering them with their own
bodies and those of their children to prevent the French firing.[163]
When Musa ag Mastan, the Amenokal of Ahaggar, went to France in
1910 his sister ruled the people in his stead. Though no instances
are recorded in Air itself of women becoming chiefs of tribes they
rule several villages among the Kel Geres. By usage and by right
their functions are more consultative than executive. They do not
seek election to tribal councils. They enter them as of right and
not in competition, but not even then do they order men about. Their
function is to counsel and to charm. They make poetry and have their
own way. In recent years there seems to have been only one example
in Air of a woman playing a definitely masculine rôle. Barkasho,
of the Ikazkazan, was already an old woman when, as a small boy,
Musa, of the same tribe, who was with me at one time as a camel-man,
knew her. Soon after she married, Barkasho told her husband that
she was going about a man’s work and proceeded to don the robe,
veil and sword of the other sex. She set off on a raid to the east
to avenge some depredations on her people. As her courage grew and
became famous she turned her attention to the west and led a raid,
it is said, as far afield as the Tademekkat country. On one of these
expeditions she lifted, single-handed, seven camels from a party of
three men who were guarding them. The curious side of Barkasho’s
personality was that when she returned from these excursions, she put
off her male attire and quietly resumed her place and occupations
in the household. Evidently, however, her husband must have become
restive, for in the end she advised him to get rid of her, or at
least to marry another woman as well, since she was useless to him
as a wife. But history does not relate what the husband did. Musa
last saw her as an old, old woman, sitting in front of her hut,
looking into the sunset over the country where she used to raid,
and dreaming. I failed in my endeavours to obtain other stories of
women leaders. I found, therefore, nothing to bear out the Amazonian
legend,[164] except the survival of the matriarchal system generally.
Kahena lives on among the Tuareg only as a memory and as a proper
name. They do not claim as one of their race the Berber queen who
defended Ifrikiya against the Arabs in the seventh century. Ahodu
had heard of her as a woman of the Imajeghan who were in the north
when the Arabs came. “She led these noble people and defeated the
Arabs, it is true, and those Imajeghan were great people, of course,
but she was not one of our people: our people are older than they;
and the Arabs—why, the Arabs have only just come to the land,”
said Ahodu, who, where his own Kel Tadek were concerned, was always
an intolerable snob.
Under Moslem law a man may take unto himself four legitimate wives
in addition to a number of slave concubines. The rules laid down
by the Prophet for the governance of the marital relations of good
Moslems are theoretically, at least, in force among the Tuareg of
Air. In practice, however, monogamy is more frequent than polygamy. I
am not clear whether an explanation of this phenomenon is to be
looked for in a survival of a matriarchal state of society where
one would indeed be led to expect polyandry rather than polygamy, or
whether the reason is rather to be sought in the economic condition
of a people whose poverty does not allow them to keep more than one
wife. I have no hesitation in disagreeing with Jean when he says[165]
that monogamy is rare and even anomalous in Air. It does not accord
with my personal observations, nor is it consistent with what I heard
of those traditions and conditions which I was unable to verify. How
often has it not been said to me that “the Imajeghan respect their
women, and _therefore_ have only one wife, not like the negroes, and
heathen”? It does not accord with the conditions governing the status
of women as described by Jean himself, nor yet with the remarks which
he makes on the subject of the matrimonial relations of the Tuareg. It
is, finally, in contradiction with the accounts given by Duveyrier[166]
and others of the Northern Tuareg, concerning whom his enthusiasm even
led him into the exaggeration of asserting that polygamy was unknown.
After considering the question carefully, I have come to the
conclusion that monogamy is probably an old tradition dependent upon
and consistent with the status of Tuareg women, and not a consequence
of economic conditions which have, however, served to perpetuate
the custom. It is certainly connected with the matriarchate. The
practice of concubinage is restricted, and where it does occur, is
usually confined to women of the slave caste. A noble woman is not,
and never could be, a concubine so long as the status of noble and of
serf continues to exist; but if the maintenance of only one wife were
due to economic necessity alone, the same conditions would not obtain
in regard to concubinage in a community where every additional slave,
male or female, is an asset as a productive unit. The position of
women among the Tuareg has no real parallel in any other Oriental
country. Even in Ashanti, where there are analogies for some of
the matriarchal survivals found among the Tuareg, the exceptional
positions of some of the royal women seem to be less favourable than
that of any of the noble and most other women in Air, where all the
sex is held in honour.
At Auderas I played the rôle of doctor to the best of my ability. I
found a great ally in Ahodu’s wife, who, though not a Tuareg by race,
had acquired all their traditions and manners. Her appearance was
not in the least characteristic; her negroid features were frankly
ugly from the European point of view. But she made up for these
physical disadvantages by her unfailing sense of humour and constant
cheerfulness, which are very valuable qualities in Africa. In general
the young Tuareg women are handsome and possessed of considerable
charm. They are smaller in build than the men, but when their
parentage is reasonably pure, they possess the same aristocratic
features and proportions. Their demeanour is modest and dignified. In
this Ahodu’s wife resembled them. She was perfectly natural and
had great quickness of mind. She was what might be called “une
femme du monde.” Ahodu had divorced at least two previous wives
for their uncouth or unrestrained behaviour. He was devoted to his
present one. He always used to speak with pride of her capability,
which he averred was second to no man’s: one could place complete
reliance in her. I made a point of taking her with me when visiting
sick women and children in the hamlets, and through her tact and
presence of mind gradually came to understand their perfect ease and
bearing. In their tents or huts they would sit and listen without
fear or shyness. After the inevitable diffidence had worn off they
talked and were free from awkwardness, but never familiar like the
negro or negroid women. They are gay but not infantile. They never
lose their dignity. Their dress is staid and sombre like that of
their men, with a few ornaments of beads and silver.[167] As they
grow older the women of good family and wealth become fat, especially,
as Barth remarks, in “the hinder parts,” for fatness is a sign of
affluence, since it implies a sufficiency of the good things of life,
like slaves and food, to obviate having to do much manual work. But
among the unmarried women I saw no large-proportioned ladies: indeed
few enough even of the married ones at Auderas were fat, indicating,
I am sorry to say, the poverty of most of them. When the women do
not run to fat, they age with great beauty; nearly all the old women
looked typical aristocrats and conscious of their breeding.
The women use henna, which grows in Air, on their finger and toe nails,
and “kohl” (antimony) for their eyes. On festive occasions they
have a curious habit of daubing their cheeks and foreheads with paint,
prepared either from a whitish earth found especially near Agades,
or with red or yellow ochres which occur in several places. The
effect of these colours on different shades of skin is uniformly
ghastly, especially when the more usual yellow pigment is used, but
they apparently like the habit. A possible explanation is that in the
first instance the custom was intended as a symbolic or conventional
method of expressing the respect felt for the fairer complexions of
their original ancestors. The negro is despised in Air, the “red”
man is respected; painting the face was perhaps at first intended to
create an illusion of purer blood. Although the practice is supposed
to be restricted to festive occasions, where the women have little
work to do, they remain daubed most of the time: this seemed to be
the case at T’imia, for instance, where the women were noble and
had plenty of slaves. Tuareg men do not so adorn themselves.[168]
Before marriage, which for Oriental women occurs comparatively late
in life, Tuareg girls enjoy a measure of freedom which would shock
even the modern respectable folk of Southern Europe. They do no
work, but dance and sing and make poetry, and in the olden days they
learned to read and write. The art of literature is unfortunately
dying out, but the women still are, as they always were in the past,
the repositories of tradition and learning. Where the script of the
Tuareg is still known and freely used, it is the women who are more
versed in it than the men. It is they who teach the children. When
families have slaves, the noble woman does as little work as she can:
her occupation among the poorer people is confined to the household
work or to herding goats and sheep. They make cheese and butter and
sort dates, but they do not as a rule work in the gardens. They are
never beasts of burden. They have never learnt to weave or spin, but
they plait mats and make articles of leather. The leather-working
industry at Agades is exclusively in their hands. Their knowledge
of needlework is limited; the men on the whole are more skilled than
the women at cutting out and sewing clothes.
The household duties are simple but laborious. The children for the
first few years of their lives are washed frequently, but when they are
able to look after themselves in any way the practice is abandoned. The
hut or tent is cleaned out several times a day and food has to be
prepared. This entails pounding millet in a mortar and stewing the
porridge, or steaming wheat to make kus-kus. The women eat their
food with the men, a privilege often denied their sex among other
Moslems. Among the Kel Ferwan[169] the women eat their food before
the men do so, and the latter have to be content with what is left,
which is often not very much. A man once said to me, to emphasise the
good manners required by usage to be observed before women, that in
the olden days if anyone had dared to break wind in their presence,
the insult was punishable by death alone.
Half the poetry of the Tuareg deals with the loves and adventures of
young men and women. Marriages are not arranged as among the Arabs. It
often happens that a girl has two or more suitors, when her free
choice alone is the deciding factor. It is common for a girl who is
in love with a man to take a camel and ride all night to see him and
then return to her own place, or for a suitor to make expeditions
of superhuman endurance to see his lady.[170] Fights between rivals
are not uncommon. Illicit love affairs inevitably occur: if they
have unfortunate consequences, the man is called upon to marry the
woman, but infanticide is not unknown. Once married the woman is
expected to behave with decorum and modesty. Public opinion on these
matters is strong. The married state, however, does not prevent a
woman admitting men friends to an intimacy similar to that existing,
perhaps, only among the Anglo-Saxon peoples. In a passage in which
Ibn Batutah describes the Mesufa, who before becoming debased were
of the Western Sanhaja Tuareg, but had in part settled south of Air,
he comments on the status of women in these charming terms:[171]
“The women of the Mesufa feel no shame in the presence of men; nor
do they veil their faces. Despite this, they do not omit to perform
their prayers punctually. Anyone who wishes to marry them can do so
without difficulty. . . . In this country the women have friends and
companions among men who are strangers. The men for their part have
companions among women not in their own families. It often happens for
a man to enter his own house to find his wife with a friend. He will
neither disapprove nor make trouble. I (that is, Ibn Batutah himself)
once went into the house of a judge at Walata after he had given me
permission, and found quite a young and very beautiful woman with
him. As I stopped, doubting, and hesitated, wanting to return on my
steps, she began to laugh at my embarrassment instead of blushing
with shame.” The great traveller is evidently very much shocked,
for he goes on: “And yet this man was a lawyer and a pilgrim. I
even heard that he had asked the Sultan for permission to perform the
pilgrimage that year to Mecca, in the company of this friend. Was it
this one or another? I do not know. . . .” Again, he goes on to
describe how he visited the house of one of his companions of the
road and found him sitting on a carpet, “while in the middle of
the house on a couch . . . was his wife in conversation with a man
seated by her side. I asked Abu Muhammad: ‘Who is that woman?’
‘It’s my wife,’ he replied. ‘And who is the individual with
her?’ ‘It’s her friend.’ ‘But are you, who have lived in
our countries, quite satisfied with such a state of affairs—you who
know the precepts of the Holy Writ?’ He replied: ‘The relations
of women with men in this country bring good and are correct, they
are right and honourable. They give rise to no suspicion. Our women,
as a matter of fact, are not like those in your country.’”
And that is the whole truth. The Tuareg men and women are not like
the other inhabitants of North Africa. But Ibn Batutah must have been
none the less shocked, because, though Abu Muhammad invited him to
visit him again, he did not go.
Conditions have not changed since those days among the People of the
Veil, but habits which would be considered natural in America or in
England admittedly seem strange in Africa. They are all summed up in
the Tuareg proverb which says: “Men and women towards each other
are for the eyes and for the heart, and not only for the bed,” as
among the Arabs. The consequence of such a frame of mind is that the
men and women of the People of the Veil are often blessed, or cursed,
with love so lasting, so sincere and so devoted that, like in our
own society, it makes or mars a life.
Bates has discussed the marriage customs of the Libyan tribes mentioned
in the classics. While some of these groups of people may represent
the ancestors of the Tuareg, there is no evidence of the outrageous
performances mentioned, for instance, by Herodotus, having persisted
into modern times in Air. Divorce among the Tuareg is fairly frequent
and is carried out in accordance with Moslem prescription, but adultery
is not very common. Prostitution exists, but perhaps, on the whole,
is less common than in more favoured parts of the world. It is,
of course, more frequent in Agades than in the villages, and in the
latter than among the tribes. The harlot is not respected, and her
marriage with a decent man is reprobated.
The husband is required to purchase his wife, the money or equivalent
being paid to her parents. The sum varies from a few silver francs to
several camels. Marriage portions in cattle, sheep or goats, according
to the circumstances of the parents, are frequently given to women;
the “dot” remains the property of the bride.
The children of the Tuareg, and especially the little girls, are
adorable persons. They are fairer than their parents, largely,
I think, because they wash more often than their elders, but even
discounting this factor they appear to turn darker as they grow
up. Up to the age of seven or eight the children wear no clothes at
all, summer or winter, indoors or out of doors, except perhaps a rag
to keep off the flies when they are asleep. After that, their first
clothes are white cotton shifts. Small boys have their hair cropped
close, except for a crest along the top of the head; in some tribes,
notably in the west of Air, a lock on either side of the head and a
patch on top are sometimes left. Little girls are allowed long hair
until they first put on a smock or cloth about their waists. At the
age of puberty both sexes dress their hair in one of the several
fashions current in Air, usually in small plaits all over the head;
thereafter the boys continue to wear white shirts, but the girls
put on the indigo skirt cloth. The children are so well brought up
that European parents might be envious of them. I have never met
small boys with such perfect manners and so free from selfishness
as I experienced in Air. As soon as they are old enough to take an
interest in things, the boys accompany their fathers on journeys,
to which they are thus gradually broken from an early age. They are
made to work and do all the domestic duties that their powers allow in
camp or on the march. They feed the camels on the road with grass or
plants picked by the way; they carry water to their elders to drink;
they bring in stray camels at loading-up time and hobble them when
turned out to graze. The slaves, who prepare the food, are assisted
by the boys and send them out to do all the hundred and one little
jobs that are required. So the boys grow up to be useful men before
they are mature, and in the process learn the respect which is due
to their elders, and their elders show them such devotion as these
pleasant little people deserve. The training is evidently successful,
for nowhere else have I seen children so thoughtful or so kindly to all
and to each other. It had never been my lot until I met the Tuareg to
see a right-minded boy, for instance, who had been given a sweet or
a penny or some equally valuable object, run off and offer it first
to his father and then to his companions, who refused it. And this
I saw not in an isolated instance, but as an universal practice.
In the primitive conditions of life in Air, infant mortality is
high. The happiest and some of the most successful days I spent in
Air were doctoring people, and especially children, at Auderas. There
are not many diseases in the clean dry mountain air, but under-feeding
and malaria, which comes after the rains, take their annual toll. The
almost miraculous effect of quinine on the fevers is a very saving
grace. One can never have enough quinine, but fortunately small doses
at frequent intervals will keep fever in check during bad attacks
and prevent collapse. Thus can a great deal be achieved. But it was
the good sense of the women, who had some faith in my elementary
remedies, that did most to save several children of Auderas in the
autumn of 1922.
I was interested to find how long women went on suckling their
children. I saw children of three and four years still feeding at the
breast, though they were already eating solid food. A woman will go
on suckling an older child for many years so long as her younger ones
do not suffer; she is especially prone to do so if her last baby has
died. In company with most races living under primitive conditions,
even advanced pregnancy does not interfere with a woman’s activities,
nor do mothers suffer much from the effects of childbirth. The
processes of nature take place unassisted: there are neither local
medicine men nor midwives. Women in labour are attended by their
older relations or intimate friends, whose assistance is limited
to massaging the body with hands steeped in butter or fat. Death
in childbirth appears to be rare. Newly-born children are wrapped
in some ragged garment, but receive no especial care. Cradles or
swaddling clothes are unknown; but perhaps a cushion of grass or
leaves for the infant is prepared on the family sleeping mat or
bed. Babies are carried on their mother’s back or by a slave woman,
slung with one tiny leg each side of the woman’s waist, in a fold
of the cloth which constitutes her skirt. The cloth is firmly rolled
round the baby and the woman’s body, and tucked in over the breast;
only the child’s head emerges from this pouch on her back. So the
child sleeps or cries or sucks its finger, and the mother goes about
her daily occupations, pounding millet or plaiting mats.
PLATE 18
[Illustration: TEKHMEDIN AND THE AUTHOR]
Neither at birth nor later is any form of bodily deformation
practised. Such horrors as flattened skulls or filed teeth are
unknown. The only eunuchs in Air are negroes purchased in the south. As
in the case of all good Moslems, the boys are circumcised at the age
of a few months. The diseases which I myself observed in Air, I must
admit, seemed few. Syphilis, malaria, certain digestive troubles,
dysentery, a few minor skin diseases and eye troubles were the most
serious. Syphilis is common, but apparently not very virulent: its
method of propagation and origin are well known to the natives: in
the Northern Sahara it is called the Great Disease. Von Bary thought
that it, like malarial fevers, came from the Sudan, but there is no
reason to believe this, for it is very evenly distributed all over
North Africa. The juice of the colocynth as a purge is believed to do
good in cases of venereal disease. Guinea-worm is fairly common; the
milky juice of the Asclepias, known as _Calotropis Procera_,[172]
which grows all over Air, is said to have a curative effect,
in addition to the usual method of extraction known to everyone
who has travelled in Africa. I saw one case of tuberculosis of
the lungs at Auderas, accompanied by hæmorrhage. It was rather
an interesting case of a woman whose family for three generations
was said to have died of the disease. I was too honest, I suppose,
to profess to be able to cure her, but I need hardly say that my
servant, Amadu, took over the case. He claimed to have established
a complete cure in a few days with some herb which he had found. My
reputation suffered, but my advice to Ahodu to move her hut to the
outskirts of the village was nevertheless admitted to be reasonable,
and was followed. Duveyrier[173] mentions a form of ulcer in the nose,
said to be due to constant sand irritation. He describes hernia from
long-distance camel riding as being frequent: to prevent abdominal
strains from this cause the Tuareg bind a long strip of cotton stuff
tightly about their waists. Von Bary[174] records having seen,
in addition to the above diseases, epilepsy, atrophied children,
skin eruptions, small-pox, hypochondria and madness. He remarks
that the Kel Owi seemed to suffer more from disease than the other
tribes, that their women were very fat, and that they appeared to
have irregular periods. My investigations into local medicine were
unproductive. I brought home some drugs which were used locally as
purges, lotions and astringents, but they were without value. The
empiric knowledge of the Tuareg may yet be worth investigating,
but has so far disclosed nothing of any value.
Festivals connected with social life are not interesting. Births
occur without unusual or curious celebrations. The naming of the
child is supposed to be in the hands of the local holy man, but
the mother brings her influence to bear in his choice by suitable
payments. Marriages are celebrated with feast and rejoicing after the
bridegroom has wooed his bride and paid the stipulated portion. Burials
equally follow the Moslem practice. The body is laid in the ground
on its back, the head to the north and the feet to the south, with
the face turned towards Mecca. The rope by which the body is lowered
into the grave is left lying to rot away on the tomb. The grave is
marked by one or two standing stones according as the deceased is
male or female. The graves in Air are intimately connected with the
architecture and dwellings of the Tuareg, and are dealt with in a later
chapter. There are cemeteries all over Air: the little one now in use
at Auderas lies on the south side of the valley under the hills of
Tidrak, opposite the site of our camp. In the rains, malaria claimed
several victims. They were mournful little processions which I used
to see from my hut. One such occasion particularly impressed itself
upon me. I was returning from South Bagezan one evening, climbing
down on a rough path in a ravine with three camels and three men,
when Ahodu, El Mintaka and a few more appeared, carrying a man to
his grave. They were walking quickly so as to have done as soon as
possible, proclaiming as they went that there was no God but God. They
did that which there was to be done in haste, and returned at their
leisure near sundown when the sky and the mountains of Todra were on
fire. It had been raining and the black clouds were still in sight,
covering the place of sunset. Above, everything was as red as the
light of a blast furnace shining on Todra. Already the darkness had
gathered in the north-east and the stars were coming out, and the deep
valley with its white, sandy bottom was scarcely seen for the many
trees in it. A chilly wind blew down the valley, waving the palms and
troubling the gardens. As I reached my hut, Ahodu and his men joined
me, and night fell, leaving purple and then dark red and then a yellow
glow in the west. Last of all came the pale zodiacal light climbing
up nearly to the zenith of the night, and the wind died down. Ahodu
did not speak of death because it was unlucky, but he sat on the sand
and told me many things. Ultimately came the information that a raid
of Ahaggaren had plundered some villages in Kawar. He was afraid they
would come on to Air, and that the village would have to be abandoned,
and that his people would have to retreat into the mountain which
towered as a black shadow in the east. He had left this subject to
the last, because there was nothing in the matter to discuss. The
raiders either would or they would not come. There was a proverb:
“Reasoning is the shackle of the coward.”
PLATE 19
[Illustration: BAGEZAN MOUNTAINS AND TOWAR VILLAGE]
[Footnote 150: Cf. Barth, Vol. I. p. 387. The village of Aerwan wan
Tidrak is presumably to be placed in these hills, where there are
numerous remains of hamlets. The “village” of “Ifarghan” at
Auderas is presumably a mistake, for “Ifargan” means “gardens”
in Temajegh. Several of the Auderas gardens are at the point where
Barth placed this so-called village.]
[Footnote 151: Barth, _op. cit._, Vol. I., p. 385.]
[Footnote 152: Mount Dogam is not west of the Ighaghrar (Arharkhar)
valley as shown in the Cortier map, but to the east at the head of
three tributary streams and adjoining the Todra massif. The latter
on the map is not named and is erroneously given as a south-western
spur of Bagezan, from which it is really quite distinct.]
[Footnote 153: First half of August, 1922.]
[Footnote 154: Three sorts of gourds do exist, but they are valuable.]
[Footnote 155: As does the Arab, and with some reason, for real
negroes in the sunlight have, in fact, a blue-black appearance.]
[Footnote 156: Izagarnen or Ihagarnen—the red ones, possibly the
etymology of “Ihaggaren.”]
[Footnote 157: Von Bary, _op. cit._, p. 166.]
[Footnote 158: Among the Tuareg I have never seen or heard of the
“penistasche,” which Bates regards as so typical of the Libyans.]
[Footnote 159: Sandals are called Irratemat.]
[Footnote 160: The hats illustrated by Bates, _op. cit._, Fig. 32,
are typically Sudanese.]
[Footnote 161: I believe this is not so in the north, where Arab
influence contrasts with the more negroid customs of Air.]
[Footnote 162: Duveyrier, _op. cit._, p. 401.]
[Footnote 163: Jean, _op. cit._, pp. 192-3.]
[Footnote 164: _Vide supra_, Chap. IV.]
[Footnote 165: Jean, _op. cit._, p. 195.]
[Footnote 166: Duveyrier, _op. cit._, p. 429.]
[Footnote 167: See Plates 36 and 37.]
[Footnote 168: The practice is alluded to in Gsell’s _Histoire
de l’Afrique du Nord_, Vol. I. Chap. IV, and a connection with
the mysterious term Leucæthiopians is suggested, but I think
mistakenly. It is an insult to the classical geographers to suggest
that any people were so called because some negroes whitened their
faces with paint.]
[Footnote 169: Jean, _op. cit._, p. 193.]
[Footnote 170: I cannot agree with Jean, p. 193, that until their
marriage girls never leave their mothers. They are not taken on
journeys like boys, but they walk about the villages or encampments in
a remarkably free way. Their romances are a proof of their freedom,
which is the topic of discussion and the object of remark of anyone
who first comes into contact with this race.]
[Footnote 171: Ibn Batutah (French edition), Vol. IV. pp. 388-90.]
[Footnote 172: Known by various native names. In Air the usual
name is the Hausa form Tunfafia. Barth refers to it as _Asclepias
gigantica_. It is called Turha or Toreha or Tirza in Temajegh, Turdja
in Mauretania, Ushr in Egyptian and Korunka in Algerian Arabic.]
[Footnote 173: Cf. Duveyrier, _op. cit._, pp. 433-5.]
[Footnote 174: Von Bary, _op. cit._, p. 185.]