CIVILIZATION AND THE AFRICAN
I.—The White Man’s Burden.
II.—Lightening the White Man’s Burden.
III.—Governments and Commerce.
IV.—The Liquor Traffic.
V.—The Educated Native.
VI.—Justice and the African.
VII.—Race Prejudice.
I
THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN
There is a type of African traveller who, hurrying to the coast and
back again, returns with all the assurance of a long experienced person
to pontifically declare that the unhealthiness of West Africa is all
moonshine, that if a man dies it is due to his excesses rather than to
the climate. There is, of course, a grain of truth in this assertion;
cocktails, midnight oil and habits of a worse type, undermine the
constitution in a manner which leave little resistance to the climatic
diseases. Yet after all, tropical Africa is a death-trap.
Some of these assertive and incredulous persons have themselves been
badly punished for their advertised temerity. The story goes of one lady
who, after having published much nonsense on this subject, was bundled
off home in an ice pack! I know one man who, after a year or two of good
health, gave rein to his opinion in the columns of the _Times_; this
good man was no believer in short and effective service, followed by a
well-earned period of leave; he advocated long terms of residence as the
certain road to immunity; that man spent a single term in Africa, towards
the close of which the climate made such inroads upon his constitution,
that he was never allowed to return.
Those who feel inclined to trifle with and ridicule the dangers
attendant upon life in Africa should spend a solid year in some lonely
post directing a staff not always amenable to discipline; should live
in that comfortless bungalow; should endeavour to tempt the appetite
day after day with something from a tin which, no matter what it is
called, invariably has the same taste. Then probably a fever intervenes
and the lonely resident goes to bed with limbs racked with pain and a
head throbbing like the puffing of an express train. By this time the
supercilious writer would be brought to know that after all, the climate
of West Africa is not that of the Swiss lakes or the Austrian Tyrol.
[Sidenote: THE STORY THE GRAVEYARDS TELL]
It may be a melancholy undertaking, but all whites going to West Africa
should brace themselves to the duty of visiting the cemeteries. What a
story the graveyards of West Africa tell! The fair young lives laid down
for the comfort of posterity. Men of all walks in life are there—the
official and the trader, pitiably aloof in daily life, now lying side by
side; they are there from every profession and trade, the engineer and
the miner, the planter and the doctor, the young wife and perhaps the
new-born infant. Africa—always cruel—has taken them in the very flower of
their manhood and womanhood.
On the Gold Coast I one day walked into the cemetery and standing in
one spot recorded the ages inscribed on twenty-seven of the surrounding
tombstones; the oldest amongst the deceased was only forty-six years, and
amongst the youngest, two had succumbed at the early age of twenty-two.
The average was exactly thirty-two years. Not a few had inscribed upon
the tombs such information as, “After two days’ illness.” “After only
three weeks in the colony.” “After three days’ illness.” “Died on the way
to the coast,” and so forth.
One interesting feature about this cemetery is that it is enclosed with a
stone wall, about four feet high, and all white men may be buried within
the compound, as also respectable natives—respectability, so my native
guide informed me, being determined by church-going. Natives, therefore,
who were not attendants at church, were buried “outside the wall.”
Looking over I could see some scores of graves of natives who, not having
attended church in life, were divided in death from the church-goers by a
foot of stone wall.
Merchants and missionaries would do well to watch more closely the
mortality returns of Government publications, for there alone may be seen
recorded the effect of furloughs on the health of Europeans. In the slow
moving times of twenty years ago, men went to the coast for long periods,
and many a missionary and merchant stayed until he died. Government
officials, too, were kept at their posts until death carried them off, or
they were invalided beyond the possibility of a return. It is instructive
to note that mortality is much lower among Government officials, arising
beyond question from the fact that they serve short periods, generally of
one year only, and then take a furlough in Europe. For many reasons the
figures for the years 1901 and 1910 may be regarded as average records.
The death-rates among the whites in the two colonies of the Gold Coast
and Southern Nigeria, showing a remarkable improvement, are as follows:—
Southern Nigeria. Gold Coast.
Death Rate. Death Rate.
1901.—Officials 24 per 1000 34.96 per 1000
Non Officials 47.1 ” ” 56.30 ” ”
1910.—Officials 6 ” ” 11.41 ” ”
Non-Officials (not available) 16.52 ” ”
Most merchants argue that they cannot afford to bring their men to Europe
for short furloughs every year, but one or two good houses are making
the experiment with not a little satisfaction to themselves in more than
one direction. In the first place a better type of man offers for a
short agreement, and then there is the consideration that by preserving
the lives of those they have trained, merchants thus avoid the constant
re-equipment of new men, the cost of which is very considerable. Nor is
the financial aspect the only feature which is proving satisfactory.
These merchants find that they reap great commercial advantages over
their competitors by being able to hold more frequent consultations with
their men. After all, the incidence of cost in connection with passages
to and fro is comparatively insignificant on the whole expenditure of the
far-reaching commercial enterprises of West Africa.
To preserve the white man’s life in Africa, other elements are equally
essential. The dwelling-house, recreation and provisions are features
sadly neglected by the majority of whites.
[Sidenote: AN AFRICAN HOME]
There is so much monotony, so much to irritate and to depress in West
Africa, that everything Governments and merchants can do to brighten
the lives of their employés should be done. The prettiest and happiest
of homes are without doubt in German and Portuguese colonies. In both
cases it is due, to a very large extent, to the fact that these nations
give every encouragement to the taking out of white women, whose very
presence, flitting to and fro in the essentially light garments of
the tropics, give more than a touch of poetry to surroundings already
anything but prosaic.
[Illustration: WILD FLOWERS GROWING ON TRUNK OF FOREST TREE.]
[Illustration: “THE STORY THE GRAVEYARDS TELL.”]
The Portuguese love of a garden adds to the attraction of their homes;
grape vines are tastefully grown where the Englishman would throw sardine
tins; there is a fernery in one corner of the garden, a rose bower in
another, luscious fruits and tempting vegetables grow everywhere in
exquisite profusion.
The Germans in Cameroons set aside a colonial fund called the “Widows and
Orphans Fund,” and I am told it is from this capital account that men
draw subsidies with which to take their wives to West Africa!
One of the prettiest incidents I ever saw in West Africa was at Victoria
in the German Cameroons. The planter came galloping home from the
plantation, and giving a whistle to announce his return, a daintily
dressed little matron skipped out lightly to meet him, and arm in arm
they walked into a charming little bungalow gay with fern and flower.
A few minutes later I passed by the open door and caught a vision of a
snowy table cloth, bright with polished silver and glass. I could not
help contrasting this with the British factories with their more or less
dilapidated dwelling-houses, most of them very dirty, and the general
atmosphere in keeping with the slatternly black woman leaning against
the cook-house door.
Recreation in some more healthy form than cocktails and billiards is of
no less importance than the well-ordered house. In many colonies now
there are golf and cricket clubs, but these are only possible in the more
civilized towns where there is a considerable congregation of whites. The
man who suffers most from fever and despondency is the one stationed at
some isolated post of the hinterland. Happy, indeed, is the man with a
knowledge of, and love for, a garden; it will keep his mind calm, provide
him with healthy exercise, and a supply of fruits and vegetables which
will keep him in good form for his daily routine.
Given a good home, sound mental and physical recreation, short periods
of service with proportionately shortened furloughs to Europe, the
white man’s burden in Africa, to which so many succumb to-day, would be
materially lightened, and both white men and women could go forth with a
fearlessness which, tempered with care, would largely remove from West
Africa the stigma of “the white man’s grave.”
II
LIGHTENING THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN
Thanks to Mr. Chamberlain, a great stimulus was given to the work of
rendering the burden of West Africa somewhat lighter. At his inspiration
men began to study more seriously the question of dwelling houses, the
use of medicines, and the supply of fresh food.
Sir Alfred Jones, Messrs. John Holt and Messrs. Burroughs & Wellcome,
have each in their respective spheres spent large sums of money
experimenting in various directions, in the hope that science applied to
the practical side of daily life and travel would ameliorate, if it did
not remove, the distressing effects of malaria.
The trader of twenty years ago lived—but more frequently died—in a wattle
and daub house. These I know from experience can be made comfortable, but
more often than not they are so damp and insanitary that fever may be
looked for every few months. Inside two and a half years, I experienced
no less than seventeen fevers, the majority of which were I am convinced
entirely due to the wretched habitation in which we lived.
To-day few men live on ground floors, for the mud or bamboo house has
given place to the airy bungalow fashioned on brick piles, permitting a
current of air to pass beneath which keeps the house dry and sanitary.
It also has the not inconsiderable advantage that snakes and other
reptiles which abound in the tropics do not so readily find a lodging
as in the mud and sun-dried brick houses of the earlier days. Another
improvement which is yearly growing in favour is that of gauze doors and
windows which give some protection from the torment of mosquitos and
tsetse flies.
On the island of Principe, the doors and windows of almost every house
are fitted with gauze, the object of which is to prevent the spread of
sleeping sickness which has of recent years overwhelmed that island. The
germ-impregnated fly is nowhere in Africa so numerous and vicious as upon
that wretched Portuguese island, where few of a ship’s passengers care
to land, for the risk of becoming inoculated with sleeping sickness is a
very real one. Whilst on that island we had to keep an extremely vigilant
watch upon the terrible tsetse flies which gave us no peace, so anxious
were they to taste our blood. The fly, which is found in most parts of
West Africa, is most prevalent in the Bangalla region of the Congo and
on Principe Island. In the latter place they literally swarm. There is
no buzz to warn of their approach, and usually the first intimation the
traveller has of their presence is the sharp stab, followed by acute
irritation and swelling. In spite of the precautions taken on Principe,
there seems very little hope that the population can be saved from this
terrible scourge. In one month (June, 1910), out of a population of 4000
souls, no less than fifty-six perished from sleeping sickness; that is at
the rate of 168 per 1000 per annum. No wonder the Portuguese population
is leaving the doomed island.
[Sidenote: MOSQUITO-PROOF SHIPS]
An experiment which is being watched with keen interest is that recently
made by Messrs. John Holt & Company. The directors of this enterprising
firm have recently placed two insect proof ships on the West African sea
and river journeys. The first of these, the “Jonathan Holt,” was launched
in July, 1910. This vessel was constructed largely under the advice of
the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, and the object was that of
rendering the passengers and crew immune from the germ carrying mosquito.
The “Jonathan Holt,” the first of the type ever built, is about 2500 tons
and with a dead weight capacity of 2350 tons. She draws only 17 feet 6
inches of water, which permits navigation on the river Niger and also
allows her to reach Dualla, the capital of German Cameroons.
The doorways, portholes, windows, skylights, ventilators and passages
are all protected with mosquito gauze frames easily adjustable. Double
awnings are provided and everything which human forethought can do to
render the ship proof against the mosquito has been done.
To Messrs. Burroughs, Wellcome and Co., every African traveller
owes a debt of gratitude. The excellence and portability of their
tabloid-preparations have gone a long way to minimize the dangers of
tropical adventure. During our travels of over 5000 miles we carried with
us a medical outfit which left nothing wanting, either for ourselves or
for our paddlers and carriers. For fever, for cuts or bruises, or other
inevitable ailments of the tropics everything was at hand; nothing was
lacking for the whole caravan and yet the total outfit weighed less than
twenty pounds! How great a difference a Burroughs, Wellcome portable
outfit would have made to Livingstone’s hard life. We carried another
case of “tabloid” photographic materials, and with these developed nearly
a thousand plates. The whole outfit, both medical and photographic, was
easily carried by one boy.
It may seem strange to the European that African travellers and writers
lay so much stress upon the question of food supply. West Africa for
years exacted a terrible toll from her white residents, which might have
been to a great extent minimized had they been able to provide themselves
with palatable fare. The late Sir Alfred Jones determined to do something
to make the life of the African merchants and officials more comfortable
in this respect. He fitted out a few ships with refrigerators and began
in a small way to send some of our staple articles of diet to the leading
ports of the coast. Men and women too, sick almost unto death, unable to
eat the coarse bread, the tasteless fish, or the tinned mixtures, were
then cheered and in numberless cases restored by the timely arrival of an
Elder Dempster boat with sterilized fresh milk, eggs, chicken and mutton.
[Sidenote: FISH, FLESH, AND FOWL]
Only too well do we remember those days, fifteen years ago, when once on
board the ship at Liverpool, the travellers said good-bye to European
diet. How different the case now! Directly the ship casts anchor,
coloured messenger boys, and more often the white men, come on with
orders for beef and mutton, eggs and milk, chicken and sausages, even
game and fruit. It is a great day when Elder Dempster’s boats steam
into port, hurried invitations go out for dinner and luncheon parties,
and once a month at least the pale-faced commercial agent or the anæmic
government official is able to enjoy a meal or two which puts new life
into his tired body.
Over and above the provisions for the passengers on the steamer, each
ship will now carry for sale—beef, lamb, mutton and kidneys; pheasants
and other game; eggs, sausages, fresh butter and sterilized milk;
potatoes, carrots and onions; kippers, bloaters and salmon; grapes, pears
and apples—a veritable combination of shops, butcher, dairy, greengrocer,
fishmonger and fruiterer!
Usually each ship will carry for sale from 1000 to 2000 lbs. of beef, a
couple of thousand eggs, three or four hundred pounds of butter, five
hundred blocks of ice and three hundred pints of milk. Festive seasons,
too, are not forgotten and Christmas boats carry a large stock of turkeys
and geese.
Think for a moment what a blessing the monthly visit of a ship like this
is to such foodless places as Boma and Matadi in the Congo, the island of
Fernando Po, the isolated merchant houses of Rio del Rey, or the ports of
Spanish Guinea;—the drawn and sickly faces of the men who come off for
provisions tell their own tale. They can not only buy all they want, but
at a reasonable price. The Belgian in the Congo buys beef cheaper than
he can in Antwerp, _i.e._, 10_d._ a pound. Lamb and steak he can get at
1_s._ per pound. The Scotch engineer running his steamer up and down the
Ogowé can get a whole box of Aberdeen haddies for 5_s._, or salmon at
2_s._ a pound. Ice can be purchased at 2_s._ 6_d._ a half-hundredweight
block. Potatoes and onions at 9_s._ a case.
This enterprise of Sir Alfred Jones has already developed into the
creation of cold storage companies at ports like Lagos, Calabar and
Seccondee, and the firm of Elder Dempster has now built chambers on some
of their ships capable of carrying twenty tons of European provisions
every week to Seccondee alone. The health of West Africa, bad though it
is, has greatly improved within recent years, and though, of course,
the medical profession has so largely contributed to the change, the
house-builder, the merchant and the ship-owner have loyally co-operated
in an endeavour to lighten the burden of the white man in West Africa.
III
GOVERNMENTS AND COMMERCE
Nothing in West Africa is more striking than the attitude adopted by
the several colonizing Powers towards commerce. At present, Germany is
easily in the front rank; her policy towards business men is the most
enlightened of any Power, and it is therefore to be the more regretted
that her treatment of the natives is not equally far-sighted. Were it so,
all students of African questions could view with equanimity her gradual
absorption of the whole of Equatorial Africa.
The British merchant knows with absolute certainty that he may rely
on receiving a warm welcome and every assistance in German colonies.
He knows, too, that none will be given a preference before him. He
knows that if “public good”—the stick which governors so frequently
wield—demands the removal of his factory, or that a road must be
driven through his ground, the German Government will not quibble over
doubtful legal points, but will look at the question on broad lines of
common-sense policy.
Steam into a German port, and before you cast anchor you may see the
customs and health-officers with their launches racing across the
intervening stretch of sea. Promptly and smartly the doctor steps up
the companion-way, and you begin unloading your cargo without further
formalities. Your cargo finished, there is no delay about papers, no
irritating objections about the closing time of the customs, or the
doctor being at dinner or more likely, tennis. Contrast this with a
visit to a French or Portuguese port—you may wait an hour before the
health-officer comes on board. His visit over, the ship’s officers and
native crew slave throughout the day to unload the cargo, so that they
may have the valuable night watches for steaming to the next port, but if
the Frenchman can by any quibble keep you tossing at anchor, you may rely
upon his doing so.
The German neither likes nor dislikes the British merchant: he is
concerned with one thing only—that British capital and British brains
are good for his colony; therefore, without any sentimental nonsense, he
gives the Britisher a warm welcome, and sees to it that no preference is
given to the German merchant, which might make the British firm hesitate
to invest further capital in a German colony.
Of course the regulations in German colonies are numerous and enforced
with military precision and sternness. The native, centuries behind the
white man, does not bear the strain very well. The Britisher, after a
time, learns that such regulations are for his good and accepts them. No
merchant at first takes kindly to keeping his back-yard free from refuse;
if he is in Togoland he resents the first instance upon which he is fined
twenty marks for leaving old tins, half-filled up with rain water, lying
about the rear of his store, but when in the process of time he is still
without fever, he sees the advantage of this anti-mosquito regulation.
[Sidenote: MODEL TRANSPORT]
In Lome the Germans have an extremely interesting and unique system of
transport enterprise. The surf, as in many parts of West Africa, is
extremely bad, and for years constituted a source of perpetual loss,
not only of valuable cargoes, but of human life. With characteristic
thoroughness the German, at great cost, ran a pier out to sea, built a
railway line on it and extended this line along the front of the merchant
houses—a distance of about 1½ to 2 miles. On the pier the Government
erected seven powerful steam cranes. Having laid down this plant, they
took the next truly Teutonic step and compelled all the merchants to
accept Government transport.
An outward-bound steamer is sighted at sea, cranes are prepared, the
health-officer leaves before the ship comes to anchor, papers are
examined, cargo is rapidly placed in the surf boats which are towed
across to the pier where, in an almost incredibly short space of time,
fifty tons of cargo are hauled up on to the pier, put on the train and
delivered at the merchants’ doors. A similar method is adopted with a
steamer from the south—homeward bound. The moment the look-out ascertains
her name and destination, he signals or telephones to the merchants, and
shortly afterwards trains are in motion collecting the cargo already
prepared for the expected vessel. When she comes to anchor, her surf
boats are despatched to the pier, where they are promptly loaded and sent
back to the ship.
There is a scientific air about the whole transaction; an absence of
fuss; an attention to business quite refreshing in tropical Africa, and
above all, there is a sort of “hey presto” promptness in the way these
tons of pots and pans, bales of cotton, barrels of oil and bags of corn
are handled.
All merchants, of whatever nationality, must accept this transport and
pay a fixed rate of 11_s._ a ton, which covers all costs and insurance
against every risk. In return they are saved the expense and trouble
which attaches to the upkeep of boats, boat-boys and a large staff of
men for handling cargo. I was assured by the merchants that the system
works extremely well, saves them much annoyance, and, on the whole, does
not work out at much greater expense than the rough-and-ready methods of
other colonial ports.
The administration of German colonies is decidedly autocratic, although
not more so than in British Crown colonies. In German Cameroons, however,
all interests are consulted in a manner which demonstrates the eagerness
of the German Government to keep on good terms with the merchant. Twice,
sometimes three times a year, the Governor holds an enlarged “Colonial
Council,” to the deliberations of which he invites not only the principal
merchants, but the leading missionaries. I was informed that at these
meetings the Governor welcomed criticism of existing or projected
enactments, no matter from what quarter they came, and that the result
was that everyone felt himself to be an integral part of the colony.
[Sidenote: THE FRENCH ATTITUDE]
How different the French Administration! The _Entente Cordiale_ may be
all right in the Banqueting Hall, and as a pin-prick for Germany, but
it is time the British people questioned its value in things that count.
The truth is that in French colonies, merchants of other nationality are
not wanted. Wherever you go in French West Africa, the merchant is full
of grievances with regard to the petty annoyances of the Government and
the officials. Nor does this apply to West Africa alone; the same story
is told in Madagascar and the New Hebrides, in both of which places,
not only is the merchant entirely _de trop_, but the _Entente Cordiale_
has not even secured decent treatment for the devoted missionaries.
The _Entente Cordiale_ was not brought about for selfish ends by Great
Britain, and considering the much advertised generosity of our partner,
we have a right to expect at least ordinary civilities in her colonies.
The French are so absorbed in themselves that they would have none but
Frenchmen on the face of the earth. As Napoleon failed to accomplish this
end, the present-day Frenchman will not, if he can help it, have any but
his own nationality in French colonies.
The Portuguese want British capital, but they don’t want British
merchants; they kill the commerce of British firms by every form of
preferential treatment. Their right to do so is, of course, equal to
that of a man to cut his own throat. The only British enterprises in
Portuguese West Africa are the Lobito-Katanga Railway, the Angola Coaling
Company and some electrical works at Catumbella. The first named is the
well-known Robert Williams’ project for reaching the Katanga and Northern
Rhodesia from the West Coast. The local Portuguese would probably like to
strangle this valuable undertaking in its infancy, but they see already
how much capital is finding its way into Angola. When Robert Williams
gets his railway through to Katanga, the Angola colony will become an
asset of considerable value to the Republic.
[Sidenote: THE BELGIAN ATTITUDE]
The attitude of the Belgian Government towards commerce is again
different from that of any other colonial administration. Theoretically,
the Belgians are anxious to persuade capital to enter the colony, but
the principles of King Leopold’s rule have taken such firm root that in
practice the presence of any commercial agents, particularly those of any
other nationality, is gall and wormwood to the local Belgians. Nothing,
for example, irritates them so much as a reminder that by the Berlin Act
they are bound to keep the country open to the free commerce of the world.
Even Belgian merchants complain of the treatment they receive at the
hands of the officials of the administration. Recently, when calling at
Stanley Pool on board a merchant steamer, we had to pass the customs
official. We put our anchor ashore in front of the customs house, where
the official himself was standing on the beach smoking a cigar, and,
as we thought, waiting to examine our papers. He knew the captain (a
Belgian) was pressed for time, yet he deliberately kept the ship at
anchor for twenty minutes whilst he finished his cigar! No doubt this
conduct was meant to—and, of course, did—impress the crew, but, as the
captain remarked, the reason at the back of such action is the desire of
Belgian officialdom to monopolize transport, and their hatred of any form
of free commerce.
I was present on another occasion which instanced Belgian desire to
secure trade in principle, whilst unwilling to put their advertised
desires into practice by exhibiting a readiness to render real
assistance. There came into Boma a British ship, whose captain was of
higher rank than those usually visiting this port; it was in fact the
first time this officer had called at a port so insignificant as Boma.
He ran his ship alongside the pier, but was amazed to find none of the
ordinary preparations for unloading cargo. Instead of sending a ship’s
officer for an explanation, he went himself to see the quasi-Government
Railway Company.
“Where,” he asked, “are the railway trucks for unloading cargo?”
“There they are,” laconically replied the official.
“But I want them at the ship,” said the captain.
“Well,” answered the official, with genuine courtesy, “you can take them,
I don’t object.”
That it was in any sense the man’s responsibility to send these trucks
along did not occur to him, and upon the captain asking how he was to get
them over the intervening half mile of line to the pier, he was told,
again with every courtesy, “send your crew to push them!”
Then might be seen the spectacle of a ship’s officer and a gang of Kroo
boys spending hours under a tropical sun straining and tugging at these
unwieldy railway trucks, all of which could have been shunted in a few
minutes with ease by any one of the idle engines in the sheds. That a
ship of 5000 tons was delayed for twenty-four hours by this stupidity
was immaterial to the Belgian official. How differently the German
would have acted! The empty trucks would have been ready on the pier,
a shunting engine with steam up standing by directly the steamer began
making her way alongside, but the Belgian is not cast in that mould.
[Sidenote: THE BRITISH ATTITUDE]
In British West African colonies the relations between Government and
Commerce are unique. Alone among the Powers she has developed a caste
attitude, until to-day the distinction is not a little embarrassing. The
British official is quite a good fellow when you get him alone, but, as
a class, they form a distinctly objectionable “set.” This is apparent
the first day on board ship, when the “sorting out” commences, and if
the weather is good this process provides not a little amusement to an
observant passenger. Usually there are but three groups of travellers
on a “coast” steamer—the official, the merchant and the missionary.
As we have travelled a good deal in these ships, many occasions have
presented themselves for watching the arranging and rearranging of
this little floating town. The last time we set out from Liverpool was
the most entertaining of any. Running down the channel, a youth, who
had apparently never travelled before, wished me “Good day,” with the
apparent intention of pacing the deck, but upon his discovering that I
was neither an official, nor a missionary, he inwardly argued “a trader,”
and promptly made off!
Another and yet another pursued the same tactics, until by a process of
elimination they “discovered” the officials. “Steward” was then called
and all the “official chairs” were placed in a semi-circle in the best
part of the deck. That this monopolized the only comfortable section of
the upper deck did not appear to concern these gentlemanly youths.
[Illustration: CATARACT REGION BELOW STANLEY POOL, BELGIAN CONGO.]
In the dining-saloon the chief steward had placed us at one of the lower
tables, but learning from the captain of certain instructions given him
by one of the Directors, with whom I was on friendly terms, this man
came forward and with profuse apologies asked me to accept an entirely
different place in the saloon, saying that he “thought I was a trader!”
Once I met a young Sierra Leone merchant, who told me that a certain
official in the Protectorate had been taken ill with a bad fever at
his factory; that he had nursed him through it with all the care of
a relative; that this official, when he was at last able to leave,
appeared deeply grateful for all that had been done for him, and the
merchant believed he had made a lifelong friend. A few months afterwards
business called him to Freetown, and passing along one of the streets,
he met two or three officials, one of whom was the friend whom he had so
carefully nursed. To his amazement, he only received a curt nod and a
plain intimation that further intercourse was undesirable. It is to be
hoped that such conduct is rare, but the general attitude of the younger
British officials is becoming almost intolerable.
This treatment of the merchant class finds no place in any other colony
of West Africa. It is of quite recent growth and monstrously unjust
to the merchants, for it should never be forgotten that it is almost
entirely to the merchant and missionary communities that Great Britain
primarily owes her presence in West Africa. There is another fact our
officials would do well to remember, namely, that the natives and the
merchants together pay their salaries and pensions.
The younger officials make themselves far more objectionable than
the older men, but probably this is due to their inexperience. It
is, however, regrettable that the older officials do not set a more
pronounced example in the other direction. Within recent years, the
British Colonial Office has been sending out, in the capacity of
Assistant District Commissioners, many youths of necessarily immature
judgment and totally lacking in experience. These lads are by far the
worst specimens in their attitude towards the native and merchant
communities. Recently, this feature has been impressing itself upon
travellers in East as well as in West Africa. Mr. E. N. Bennet, in his
book on the Turks in Tripoli, says:—
“Amongst our fellow passengers to Marseilles were eight young
men who were on their way to Uganda. Few, if any of them, had
ever crossed the Channel before; they wore school colours and
did not know an olive tree when they saw one. Nevertheless,
they held, and expressed, very decided views—the ideas of the
College Debating Society and the London Club—that the ‘man on
the spot’ must be the sole arbiter on matters colonial and that
kindness was absolutely wasted on black men; the one ethical
quality necessary in a representative of Great Britain was
firmness.... They also viewed with disfavour the deportation
of Mr. Galbraith Cole. One could only hope that when these
inexperienced youths grew older they would grow wiser. As
it is, an immense amount of harm is done all over our vast
Empire by some of our younger soldiers and civil servants, who,
utterly devoid of _cosmopolitanisme gracieux_, treat their
non-English fellow subjects with a contempt which would be
ridiculous if it were not dangerous.”
The merchant seeking a new field for commerce in West Africa will find
the warmest welcome and the fairest treatment in German colonies, and
next to Germany, in this respect, the British colonies; there is not much
to choose between the Belgian and the Portuguese. None but Frenchmen
should go to the colonies of “Liberty, Equality and Fraternity,” for
there is little Liberty, less Equality and no Fraternity in the French
colonies for white or black.
IV
THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC
It is useless to close our eyes to the fact that an evil of fearful
potentiality is being introduced and fostered all down the West Coast
of Africa. I have not always found it possible to agree with the
much-criticized Native Races and Liquor Traffic United Committee, but it
must not be overlooked that some of their critics have made errors, in
judgment at least, not one whit less extraordinary than those which have
been brought against that Committee of highminded and unselfish men.
The greatest mistake made by people in Europe upon this question is that
of comparing it with the European consumption of alcohol. The African is
not a drunkard in his primitive state and he detests our ardent spirits;
once in an extremity I gave a young man a sip of brandy in water from my
medicine case, and he literally howled over it and set his teeth firmly
against my trying to give him another dose!
[Sidenote: THE MERCHANT AND THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC]
The error to which most people cling so tenaciously is that of the
“scoundrelly merchant” theory. They cannot understand—because they do not
know Africa—why a merchant should pour gin into West Africa, unless he is
making a fortune out of it. As a plain matter of fact the merchant makes
less out of the sale of alcohol than he would out of almost any other
article of commerce. In a village store on the Gold Coast hinterland, I
found rum costing 6_s._ 9_d._ a gallon being retailed at 7_s._ 3_d._—a
profit of only 6_d._ per gallon. In another store I visited, the native
merchant was retailing gin at 9_d._ a bottle, for which he was paying
8_s._ 1½_d._ per dozen, and 4_d._ a case for transport to his store. A
West African merchant once remarked to me, “If you could stop the demand
for intoxicating liquor it would pay me to give you twenty thousand
pounds.” The merchant was quite right, because, whilst he could get
fifteen and twenty per cent. on the sale of Manchester cotton goods, he
was only making a few pence a case on the gin he was shipping to Lagos!
The sale of alcohol does not pay the merchant, but we cannot escape from
the fact that it is a good revenue producer.
There seems to be a general impression that the British administrations
are the worst in this respect, and that their record is not without
fault few would deny, but I am confident that the moral sentiment of the
British Government and people will save them from falling so low as the
French administration—an easy first in almost all that is retrograde in
Equatorial Africa. France to-day recognizes the terrible evils which
follow in the train of Absinthe-drinking in the homeland, yet she can
calmly look on whilst natives stream into the little drink stores of
French Congo with their 25 cent pieces to purchase “nips” of what I was
assured by the vendor was the worst form of drink in the whole of the
African continent. When we were at Gaboon, an official informed me that
quite recently two young Europeans had taken to drinking trade Absinthe,
and in each case had died in a manner which called for a post-mortem
examination, the results of which horrified the examining doctors.
The Portuguese have long been regarded as by far the worst sinners, but
it is the fashion in West Africa to place every sin at the door of that
not unkindly nation, yet however deeply they may have sinned in the
past, there are happily signs of repentance and reform. In Angola the
Government has recently decreed the abolition of distilleries throughout
the colony, providing, out of their extreme poverty, considerable sums as
compensation for the manufacturers.
The Belgians lead the way among the colonizing nations in West Africa,
for in their colony they are bringing the prohibition line ever nearer
the coast and it is now impossible even in the “open” areas for a native
to purchase any intoxicating liquor between Friday night and Monday
morning.
[Sidenote: “BANKING” SPIRITS]
If the natives as a rule dislike alcohol, if the natives of West Africa
are less drunken than Europeans, what happens to this ceaseless and
increasing flow of spirits into the West African colonies? “Over one
million cases of Hamburg spirit are retailed to the natives here by a
single firm within a year.” Such was the remark passed by a dispassionate
Government official to me when in Southern Nigeria. There are twenty
or thirty big merchants in Lagos alone, who handle huge consignments
of this spirit by every steamer. Sitting on the banks of the Lagoon,
one sees an endless stream of small craft passing to and fro with their
loads of gin, going to a hundred different centres, some with only six
cases, others with fifty and even one hundred. I visited a farmer up
country, who admitted to me that he retailed over £1000 worth of gin
and rum every year. The same story met us at Abeokuta, where something
like thirty-three per cent. of the imports are spirituous liquors, and
the returns published show that in the month of January, 1911, out of a
customs revenue of £2644, no less than £2450 came from duty on spirits.
None deny, because they cannot, this prodigious importation of spirits
into the Gold Coast and Southern Nigerian territories; but one thing
baffles every observer—where does it go? The Egba and Yoruba people of
Southern Nigeria are not drunken. We could find very few white people
who had seen any appreciable degree of drunkenness; generally it was
suggested that drinking took place at night. In order to test this
theory, I went several times, at a late hour, quietly through the lowest
parts of Lagos town. I saw many things, some of an appalling nature,
but no single drunken man or woman could I find, and the statistics for
convictions barely show one per thousand of the population.
Yet we cannot escape from the official figures. Over six and a half
million gallons of spirituous liquor of European manufacture were
imported last year into the British colonies of Sierra Leone, Nigeria and
the Gold Coast.
What happens to this increasing stream of spirits? No one has ever been
able to give a satisfactory answer to the question. Some say that being
a currency, millions of bottles of gin are “banked,” _i.e._, stored;
some say that large quantities are consumed at festivals; others assert
that it disappears in secret drinking. I am inclined to think, however,
from visits paid at all hours to the people’s homes, that spirit drinking
is spread over a much wider area than has hitherto been thought; that
is to say, moderate drinking prevails widely, but that at present few
of the natives drink to excess. If the moderate drinking of to-day is
leading the people to drunkenness to-morrow, then a catastrophe of first
magnitude will fall upon West Africa. Drunkenness is admittedly on the
increase in the Gold Coast, and this is so obvious that three years ago
the Governor sounded a warning by saying that he recognized drunkenness
was becoming one of the most dangerous enemies to Christianity.
What is to be done? Everyone admits that the sale of intoxicating liquor
to natives (many would also add—and to whites) in Africa is an evil; all
are agreed that the danger is potential rather than actual. But very
few seem to have any other remedy than—repression, prohibition, high
licenses, heavy duties; these are the methods which find greatest favour
to-day.
Prohibition is an extremely difficult proposition for any African colony,
and it is well-nigh impossible where the French and German boundary
lines march with that of another colony. If, for example, Great Britain
proclaimed prohibition for the Gold Coast, what guarantee have we that
German native traders would not smuggle spirits across the Volta into the
Gold Coast, or the French traders carry it over the Dahomean border into
Southern Nigeria?
[Sidenote: HIGH LICENSES AND DUTIES]
High license and import duties have both been tried, and both failed to
check the growth of imports. In some places, it would seem that these
very restrictions make matters worse. I was informed by a white doctor
on the Gold Coast that chiefs in the hinterland will take out a license
sometimes of £50, or even higher value, but will impose a tax of 5_s._,
or more, per head, on the entire community to pay for it. My medical
friend, who was a man of long experience and wide knowledge, further said
that many of the people resented this tax because they were abstainers,
and on that ground complained to the District Commissioner, but the only
redress they obtained was, “Call it a loyalty tax then, and pay it!”
It would be interesting to see what would happen if the duty as a
prohibitive measure were temporarily removed. I do not think it is
altogether clear that it would tend to increase the consumption; one
thing is certain, it would cause something like a financial panic amongst
those natives who, holding large stores, hope that the agitation in
Europe will enhance the local price and thus make possible extremely
profitable sales of stocks.
There are two spheres of action entirely untouched to-day. West Africa
is a very “dry” place indeed, and the thirsty inhabitants must have some
beverage other than water. Palm wine used to be the national beverage,
but the demand by Europe for the products of the oil palm is so great
that the whole strength of the tree is required for producing vegetable
oil.
The other sphere of operation is beyond question the most effective—an
internal movement against the consumption of, and trade in, spirits.
Repressive measures by Governments are all very well in their place,
but without the goodwill of the people those measures cannot be
wholly effective. An agitation locally kept up with the vigour that
characterizes the campaign in England, would do an enormous amount of
good.
For generations past we have been telling the native that he, in his
primitive state, is everything that is bad. Certainly the African,
modelled upon a combination of the reports of travellers, officials
and missionaries, is a creature the devil himself would disown.
Unfortunately, the native has, to some extent, come to believe this, and,
abandoning his native rôle, has struggled to imitate the whites who, he
has been taught to believe, are the highest type of civilization. When,
therefore, the white man ships his gin to the African, he considers
it the “correct form” of the higher civilization to purchase it, and
copy the European to the extent of drinking “gin and bitters,” “gin
and water,” “whisky and soda,” “cocktails” and other liver petrifying
abominations, forsaking his simple draught of water and his kola nuts for
the drinks that help him up to the standard of his inexorable critics and
overlords.
[Sidenote: THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE]
The Governor and his officials can, if they like, do more to stop
spirit-drinking than all the prohibitions, taxations and high licenses
that the wit of man could impose. Is it impossible for one colony to set
an example? I think not, for I believe the British officials, as a whole,
in spite of their shortcomings, are capable of making any sacrifice for
the good of the colonies. If a governor would “set the fashion” and
by his example inspire his subordinate officers with a determination
to refuse to drink any intoxicating liquors in public, at any function
or ceremony whatever, for a period of three years, and thereby set the
fashion against spirit-drinking, I venture to predict that within those
three years the import of spirits would decrease by at least one half.
The natives, rightly led by the Press, and the movement supported by the
officials and by the ministers of the native churches, would take fire,
so to speak, until the drinking of spirits would become “incorrect form.”
In the hands of the Government officials is the power to turn the natives
by example against the consumption of ardent European spirituous liquors.
Will they seize the opportunity?
V
THE EDUCATED NATIVE
The man who would understand the African must get beneath the surface,
otherwise he will never know the real sentiments of the native races. By
confining himself to the hospitality of the whites, he will learn a great
deal about the natives, and will also learn to appreciate the position of
the merchant and the administrator, but if he would probe the mind and
thought of the African, he will find no better way than that of living
with him.
[Sidenote: NATIVE HOSPITALITY]
It is of course more congenial—to many essential—to accept the
hospitality of trader or official, for there are little things a native
host and hostess will inevitably forget; but the compensations! What a
wealth of affection, courtesy and native lore is poured at the feet of
the visitor.
Driven by fierce tornadoes, wet, cold and utterly miserable, I have
sought the simple hut of the forest hunter, or the fishing-shed on the
banks of an African river. How warm the welcome! How quickly the good
wife will bring forward native refreshment! Let a drop of rain find its
way through the roof into the hut and on to the white guest, and nothing
will stop the impetuous host from dashing outside in the foulest of
weather to stop the leakage. Readily, too, he gives up his rough bed and
will curl up in the hollow of a tree, or beneath its branches, joyfully
enduring any discomfort so long as the white man may be made comfortable.
It is the same at the other end of the scale. Those who discover that
terrible disease—negrophobia—creeping over them, often in spite of
the better self, will find an infallible cure by staying for a few
days with some leading educated native. Their view-point will almost
unconsciously change under the genial and enlightened conversation of the
dinner-table; their hostility will melt away under the influence of the
natural courtesy of the warmhearted host. They will begin to marvel that
some things should never have occurred to them before, and, unless race
prejudice closes the observant mind to all reason, the guest will forget
that his host is an “accursed educated African.”
The “educated negro” is to many only a worse evil than the primitive
savage, but what has the educated native done? What terrible crime has
he committed? I admit he has imbibed the education European civilization
provides, but is that a crime? I admit that he is probably a greater
consumer of spirituous liquor than the illiterate native, but if it is
wrong for the native to follow in the footsteps of his white exemplars,
why does the white man import it? I admit that he is often overdressed in
too demonstrative European clothes, but again, if it is wrong for him to
wear these things, why does European compete with European in producing
the liveliest patterns in clothes and the most outrageous collars and
boots? If these are the things which make the educated native unfit to
live, why send them to him?
I am not here concerned in condemning the sale of European outfits,
importation of spirits, least of all European education, but in fairness
to the African, let us brush aside unreasoning and unreasonable prejudice
and put ourselves in his place for a moment. Let us at least recognize
for example that if grave faults exist in the educational systems we
provide for Africa, it is upon us, rather than upon the African, that the
responsibility rests.
We all agree that the educated African has his weaknesses, and pretty
bad ones too, but though I have met hundreds of them, though I have read
volumes of material they have written, I have never met one who claims
the perfection in life and conduct that not a few of his critics assume.
It seems to be mainly in British colonies that the educated native is
such a bugbear, and if our educational system produces such evils, it is
done after all under an autocratic and not a representative Government.
Surely, therefore, we should lose no time in abolishing, root and branch,
the cause of the mischief.
But is it a failure? If so, wherein has the African failed? Take first
the elementary curriculum of mission and Government schools. Where would
Africa be to-day without its thousands of coloured clerks and Government
officials? In Southern Nigeria alone there are 5000 natives in the
British Government service, all of them more or less educated. In every
colony, too, you meet cultured natives trained at these schools who are
now devoting their lives to the education of the rising generation.
[Sidenote: EDUCATION AND THE AFRICAN]
We are told that the education of the African has been too largely
concentrated on a purely literary and spiritual curriculum. Beyond
question there is some force in this criticism, but the Missions and
Governments are surely more responsible for this than the natives
themselves. The Government particularly so, for missionary committees
are after all only trustees for the funds placed at their disposal, and
such are almost entirely given for purely missionary propaganda. But even
this criticism is unjust in ignoring the existence all over West Central
Africa of the educated native carpenters, bricklayers, engineers on
steamers, engine drivers and guards on railway trains.
Crossing the Kasai territory I met an American Bishop, who had also
travelled not a few thousand miles in Central Africa, and this charming
old Divine could not cease exclaiming, “Well, the way you English are
covering this continent with educated native carpenters, bricklayers
and engineers is just marvellous.” Go where you will, you meet these
men. In the upland cocoa roças of San Thomé, in the workshops of German
Cameroons, in the trading factories of almost every island, you will
always find the Accra or Sierra Leone trader and mechanic who has
received a fairly liberal general education at the mission schools. A
thousand miles north in the Congo, away south towards Rhodesia, you will
hear frequently the welcome salutation, “How do you do, sir!” Welcome
then indeed is the claim to one Throne one Empire; more welcome still is
the kindly assistance with baggage, the clean hut, the generous gifts of
fruit and provisions.
“May I pay you for your kindness?”
“No, sir, I am too glad to see you. God bless you, sir. Goodbye.”
The traveller thus refreshed goes on his way and vows that when he gets
home he will send a subscription to those missionary societies who
are sending forth this stream of men to the distant parts of the dark
continent.
The principal openings for the sons of native chiefs are the medical and
legal professions. First let it be remembered that the enlightened chiefs
fortunately saw that by giving the flower of the race scientific European
education the power of the witch doctor, who, throughout African history
has been both medical and legal quack, would be broken. Not only so, but
the sick and afflicted among the race would receive the best alleviation
that science could provide.
Has the coloured barrister failed? If so where? Certainly not in British
examinations where brains and energy provide the only standard. I shall
probably be told by the critic that he has failed in practice. If this
be so, how is it that whenever a Crown case comes along the British
Government promptly briefs leading native barristers?
[Illustration: DR. SAPARA OF LAGOS, A MEDICAL MAN IN THE SERVICE OF THE
BRITISH GOVERNMENT.
(Dr. Sapara is endeavouring to persuade the natives to adopt attire
more suited to Tropical Africa than the frock coat and silk hat of the
European.)]
Has the doctor failed? Again, where? Not in the English and Scotch
hospitals, for he has frequently carried a higher degree than he finds
amongst his European colleagues when he returns to the coast. That he
is excluded from Government service proves nothing, except perhaps
prejudice. It may be asked why in the Gold Coast colony the African
medical man is allowed no place in Government service. We are told in
reply, because white men, and more particularly their wives, would
refuse to receive treatment at the hands of coloured medical men. This
argument fails entirely when we remember that the majority of the
hospital patients are not white, but coloured, and at present can only
receive treatment from white doctors. Moreover, do we not know of white
men, who, fearful of that rising temperature, that throbbing pulse,
unable any longer to bear the suspense, have sent for a native medical
attendant, and under his kindly treatment have recovered, in some cases
to remember gladly the skill exhibited, but in others, alas, too easily
to forget that they owe their lives to such tender ministrations.
[Sidenote: THE NATIVE DOCTOR]
Then, too, are there not to-day many white men on the coast who prefer
native doctors—whose names I could mention—to the services of European
medical men? Have we not heard and known of something still more
eloquent—the calling in of native medical men to white women? Many a
white merchant and Government official has taken out a delicate and
highly-strung wife to assist him in his work, and almost every “coaster”
knows how one of these heroic women was stretched upon, apparently, the
last bed of sickness; the distracted husband had tried everything, had
implored the white doctor to try something—it hardly mattered what—to
give back health to the sufferer. Suddenly a thought occurred to him! The
native doctor, fully qualified, was sent for and visited the patient, and
then in consultation with his white colleague, other treatment was tried.
Slowly the sick one fought her way back to life and health, and to this
day the husband remembers to whom he owes the restoration of one who to
him was everything—and this is no isolated case.
When death’s angel looks in at the window, which is pretty often in
West Africa, race prejudice shamefacedly slinks out through the nearest
doorway.
The administrator, the missionary, and the native, however, realize that
the educational facilities at present at the disposal of the natives
are not ideal; the march of progress has shown defects, and these must
be remedied. If there is one administrative problem in British colonies
important above another, surely it is that of education. In all things
colonial, Great Britain has hitherto given a lead; let her maintain that
proud tradition by appointing a commission to study the whole question of
the education of the African peoples in her Equatorial possessions, with
the object of ascertaining how far the Government may be able to secure
a more even balance between the literary and technical training of the
natives; how far it may be possible to so re-adjust existing systems as
to avoid denationalization; how far it may be possible to extend that
supremely important but largely neglected branch of education—practical
agriculture.
[Sidenote: EDUCATIONAL GRANTS]
Then there is the question of Government grants. Can anyone defend
the antiquated system which prevails in many colonies of giving lump
sums of revenue to missions? An excellent departure from this rule has
been commenced in the Gold Coast, whereby the missions receive a grant
per capita for the finished product, _i.e._ when a scholar reaches a
given standard in literary and technical knowledge, the Government
makes a definite grant of from 20_s._ to 27_s._ 6_d._ for each scholar
attaining to that standard. This experiment, already fruitful of
so much good, might provide a model for other parts of the African
continent. A commission could study how far this should be extended and
whether it might be wise to lead on to scholarships for an extension of
the education by providing grants for the study of agriculture in the
botanical gardens and plantations of the tropical world. For example, if
facilities were provided certain natives from the Gold Coast would derive
great benefit from a study of cocoa plantations in different parts of the
British Empire.
If race prejudice were too strong to admit of this procedure within the
Empire, then such natives would undoubtedly benefit by a visit to the
plantations of other Powers, in particular those of the Portuguese on San
Thomé, where, although there is predial slavery, no race prejudice exists
which would prevent a close study of one of the finest systems of cocoa
production in the world—certainly second to none in West Africa.
Another problem which knocks loudly at the door of the British Colonial
Office for consideration is that of Africans seeking a legal and medical
education in the Mother Country. We cannot, and have no right to object
to their doing so; on the contrary, we ought to welcome the idea, to
be proud of the fact that our Administrations are so progressive that
they help this movement forward. But we are not; we do not like some of
the results which at present attend this practice. Again, I ask, are we
not responsible? These young men at a most receptive age come in all
their enthusiasm to the Motherland of their dreams; they expect to find
a civilization, but one remove from the realms of eternal purity and
bliss, and what do they find? No strong and friendly hand is outstretched
to help them, no responsible person comes forward to take them by the
hand and bring them in touch with the better elements of our national
life. Alone in London or Edinburgh they drift into the worst channels
and imbibe the most pernicious ideas and practices that float around the
parks and parade themselves in the streets of our great cities. What
wonder that their lives are fouled? Who can be surprised if the only
seeds they carry back to the colonies are those evil ones which produce a
crop of tares to the embarrassment of the Government?
[Sidenote: THE AFRICAN ALONE IN LONDON]
Philanthropy can do much to turn the thoughts of these young men into
loftier channels, but philanthropy should not be left to do this work
alone. Surely the Colonial Office, if it has no duty in the matter, at
least for its own sake could render some assistance in giving these young
students a closer knowledge of the men, the aims and the desires that
inspire British Administration. In the whole world there is collectively
no finer group of officials than those in the service of Downing
Street; some seem to think they too closely resemble highly-specialized
machinery; some of us know otherwise; some of us know that behind the
official mask there are men whose hearts and consciences pulsate with
lofty principle and humanitarian sentiment. Yet between this wealth
of goodwill and experience, and the African youth amongst us, a great
gulf is fixed; there is no medium of friendly intercourse between these
noble-minded officials and ex-officials of the Government and the
young Africans who are being trained to mould the character of their
compatriots and of public opinion in Britain across the seas.
John Bull must wake up to the existence and the needs of these children,
must realize that their education, whether in the colony or in the
Mother Country, is of supreme importance, and that the friendly and wise
oversight of their education is an Imperial responsibility of the highest
order. It is more, for all nations have looked to us in the past for
the solution of these problems, and upon such facts—rather than upon a
colossal navy—rests the real strength of Great Britain.
VI
JUSTICE AND THE AFRICAN
The Powers of Europe—and Great Britain in particular—boast of the
“justice” with which they treat native races. Happily the native tribes,
as a whole, fully share this complacent belief in European rule, and this
no doubt arises from the fact that before the Powers of Europe divided
Central Africa between them, justice, as compared with might, had but a
small place.
This belief, however, is perceptibly passing away, and in many of the
West African colonies the natives are not now prepared to accept, without
question, the acts of European administration. To such an extent has this
feeling grown within recent years that administrative action sincerely
taken in the best interests of the natives is frequently assailed.
[Sidenote: BRITISH JUSTICE]
No one would deny that blunders are but human; few would deny that the
finest Colonial Office in the world—that of Great Britain—has made
mistakes which subsequent history condemns. The natives have enough
common-sense to make every allowance for such mistakes, but what they do
not understand—and in this they are by no means alone—is, why recognition
of the mistake is not made promptly, and some reparation made for the
error. The plain man asks why there should be some Medo-Persian law
which forbids the admission of error and the consequent refusal of
reparation. This attitude is accountable for much harm to the prestige of
the European in West Africa.
In Government despatches, in speeches, in our schools and from our
pulpits, we are never tired of preaching upon those articles of British
political faith which know no party. We pride ourselves upon our love of
justice and freedom, and yet we do things which we know to be utterly
indefensible, which we know to be in entire contradiction to our belauded
principles. We have made the blunder and we know it, but we invariably
crown it with the further blunder of refusing to admit it.
We know perfectly well that it is indefensible to arrest a man and
arbitrarily punish him without trial, but it is done, nevertheless.
During our journeys in Central Africa, we visited a grey-haired old
chieftain living in a hut on the Gold Coast. The old man was reclining in
a cheap deck-chair, he was totally blind and unable to stand. What was
his story?
Some thirteen years ago he heard rumours of a rebellion against the
British Government in Sierra Leone, and immediately Bai Sherboro sent
a message to the District Commissioner that the war boys were bent on
attacking Bonthe. This timely information permitted of measures being
taken to protect Bonthe. One day a messenger called upon Bai Sherboro and
told him the Governor wished to see him. Trustingly the old man picked up
his staff and went to the British authorities, when, without trial—and he
asserts without being even informed of the charges made against him—he
was forthwith exiled to a lonely spot on the shores of the distant
British colony, the Gold Coast. In Sierra Leone the old man had a son,
who, refusing to allow his father to go forth alone, sold all he had and
joined him in solitary exile, and who to this day shares his loneliness
and sorrow.
The British Government does not deny the facts, but, apparently acting
upon the advice of the “man on the spot,” who has probably never seen
any other person than the old chief’s interested accuser, takes up the
position that the return of this blind and decrepit old man to his
native home, would be dangerous, on the ground that he was believed to
be implicated in a rebellion! The Government has all along refused to
give the old man a trial, so that he might face his accusers and meet the
charges, with the result that he must die in exile. There is something
very un-English about such an incident. Strangely enough the old man
still holds firmly, after all these years, to his admiration of British
rule, and faith in British justice. Again and again he reiterated to
us the words, “If only the King of England knew!” “If only the King of
England knew!”
This is a passionate loyalty which surely we are unwise to trifle
with, unwise to immolate upon the altar of theoretic administrative
infallibility. It is folly to bury our heads in the sand so that we may
not see these things, for if we fail to look these facts squarely in
the face, others are regarding them—our friends with deep concern, our
enemies with the keen relish of an insatiable hatred.
Will it be argued that this is only an incident? Possibly, but who
knows? This case was unknown to the outside public until the old man’s
hair had whitened and until he had lost the use of his limbs during
ten years’ exile. Two years of persistent knocking at the door of the
Colonial Office has even failed to secure permission for the old man to
return to die in his own country.
[Sidenote: THE PATERNAL DREAM]
Many chiefs and native merchants in British West Africa have but one
ideal for their offspring—to send them to England for an education
either for the bar or for the medical service. They are pathetic stories
which some of these men tell you of how they deny themselves and their
families so that they may save enough to send “my eldest” to England.
They themselves have only heard of the glories of England, they can never
hope to see them, but their determination is that the boy shall. The
latter comes and spends his four or five years here in England, possibly
more, and during that period the old man is slaving away on his farm, or
trading early and late in his store, has watched his savings trickle away
until often he has but little left. At last the glad day of home-coming
arrives. The lad steps ashore from the boat, a fully fledged “medico,”
carrying “no end of big degrees.” How proud the father is! How amply
repaid he feels for all his efforts and struggles, as his full-grown son
explains to him the degrees he has obtained are higher than those of Dr.
Smith, the white medical officer at the hospital.
The young medical man hopefully sends in his request for an appointment
in the Government service—an appointment which must be paid largely from
native taxation. At a later date he receives an official envelope, which
he greedily tears open in the presence of the expectant and admiring
family. It is the official form, intimating that his services are not
wanted!
We all know the reason, why wrap it up in gentle phraseology, the hideous
fact is there—the medical service is the monopoly of the whites. Of what
avail are degrees of the highest order? What use is it to argue that
native medical officers would be less costly? The colour-bar is thrown
across the threshold of opportunity in the Gold Coast. The young man
himself understands, possibly he may even come to hate the Administration
which appears to hate him, and can we be altogether surprised? The old
father does not understand it, he is bewildered—the blow that has fallen
upon his hopes is a heavy one, and in spite of himself he wonders what is
amiss with British justice.
[Sidenote: EXPROPRIATION]
The island of Lagos, measuring less than 600 square miles, with a
population of nearly 80,000, was always congested, but never so badly
as it is to-day. By day, and also by night, I have traversed the native
quarters and found overcrowding which before long must produce a grave
condition in that hub of West Coast commercial activity. Lagos is always
hot, always humid, always malodorous to epidemic point, but Lagos,
overcrowded though it was, has within recent years seriously added to
its congestion by the forcible expropriation of some hundreds of people
from the lands they occupied. No doubt a nicely-laid-out race-course
is more pleasing to the eye of many British officials: the brightness
and neatness of this fenced park is cheering to those who now have a
monopoly of this vicinity, but the price paid for such expropriation
is a further alienation of native loyalty and goodwill. Somehow the
native does not like being driven from his home, even though “Hobson’s”
compensation is provided.
VII
RACE PREJUDICE
[Sidenote: RACE PREJUDICE AFLOAT]
The most lamentable feature which confronts the traveller in British
West African colonies to-day is that with the growth of commerce on
the one hand, and with the spread of Christian thought on the other,
race prejudice is rapidly increasing its hold not only through an ever
widening area, but in an intensity which must before many years have
passed precipitate a grave condition in the relationship of the two
races. The decks of West African liners provide an incomparable mirror
for reflecting white opinion upon the shortcomings of the black man. On
shore each man is busy with his own affairs and usually meets only men
of his own circle, but on board ship one meets every class; moreover,
the conditions of travel tend to facilitate a flow of conversation. One
sees stretched upon the deck, in every conceivable attitude of comfort
and discomfort, all classes of the coast community: the dapper little
colonel; the young district commissioner; the army doctor; dealers in
oil, ebony and rubber; the Nimrod going out in search of big game,
and the missionary going forth in quest of human souls. These varied
interests cooped up on the decks under the enervating influence of the
tropical sun will with some exceptions share little in common, but that
of an indefinable dislike and contempt for that black man they come out
to govern or exploit. To the student of human affairs, the conversation
is of absorbing interest, revealing as it does every type of thought and
superficiality. The loquacious trader, with the experience of but one
term, opines with a lofty air that the “nigger” is the very embodiment
of Satan. The “gentle” wife of Britain’s representative suggests that
the sum of all evils—the native we have half-educated, should be
curbed by measures dear to the heart of the short-sighted statesmen of
Russia. The sympathetic doctor, with ten years’ practice, looks on and
holds his peace, a silent but eloquent censure. The missionary, with
longer experience still, likewise says nothing, but listens with pained
interest. The deck below is filled with the usual crowd of natives: the
tall Fulani trader; the squat Gold Coaster; the Christian servant from
Freetown; the devout Mohammedan merchant going up to Kano, possibly on
to Mecca. The mammies, too, are there, dressed in skirts of brilliant
Manchester print and gaily coloured blouses, outrageous in fit and style.
The piccaninnies play their little games and romp round their admiring
mammies. Not infrequently a child stands sadly apart, maybe a girl
possessing but little in common with the other children, her little head
with its pale face is covered with something half-wool, half-hair; she
has a father somewhere, possibly amongst that group on the upper deck,
but between upper and lower deck a ladder is fixed, down which the white
man may go whenever desire prompts him, but up which neither coloured nor
quadroon may climb.
But what are these exceptional sins of the coloured man? What are these
terrible shortcomings of which he has the absolute monopoly and which
call forth bursts of passionate denunciation from the great men of
the earth? “An incurable kleptomaniac”—“unspeakably immoral”—“grossly
impudent”—“incorrigibly lazy”—are but a few of the sweeping indictments
hurled pell-mell at the reputation of the absent and mainly defenceless
“prisoner in the dock.” Civilization, which has never robbed the African
of his land or its fruits, never bought and sold him, never violated his
daughters, but has ever protected him, has ever set before him a perfect
standard of Christian practice, should examine these whirling charges
in the light of established facts. It cannot be denied that the African
frequently breaks the eighth commandment, but there is some evidence that
the Almighty had the Anglo-Saxon race in view rather than the African
when He gave Moses the ten commandments on Sinai’s mountain.
The following incident will show the prejudice to which the African is
subjected: Our vessel was pitching, tossing and rolling her way down the
West Coast, most of her passengers too sea-sick to stir far from the
upper deck. A steward shuffled his way along endeavouring to balance cups
of chicken-broth to tempt the appetite. One of the passengers helping
himself, called attention to the lack of spoons. The steward replied:
“We are not allowed to bring them, sir; you see there’s niggers aboard
this ship!” Though knowing perfectly well that the Kroo boy may not
intrude himself upon the upper deck, even the steward seeks to make him
responsible for losses more properly attributable to the members of his
own staff.
[Sidenote: NATIVE OFFICIALS]
The Post Office clerks at Sierra Leone, and Custom House officials at
Lagos, are cited as paragons of impudence and “swelled head.” It must
be admitted that these men fully realize that they are servants of the
British Crown and maintain a dignity not altogether appreciated by the
white community. If they can be accused of “swelled head,” may it not be
that white example has led them to regard such an attitude as “correct
form” for Government officials? Examples of this may too often be seen in
British Crown colonies, for between the British official class and the
merchant community a great gulf is fixed, across which many officials
gaze with unbecoming contempt. Let the subordinate native but ape this
attitude, and, in him, it becomes a sin.
With bated breath and eloquent gesture, the frightful immorality of the
native is a morsel of scandal dear to the heart of many superior whites.
This is a matter, however, upon which students of African social life
have some differences of opinion, but none have any such differences of
opinion upon the necessity of “Form B,” which so many white officials
are prone to forget. An exposure of African immorality cannot, it is
true, be long delayed; sooner than most people think that day is coming.
Locked in the breasts of governors, doctors, missionaries and educated
natives are strange stories and appalling statistics; their volume is
daily increasing; facts are being labelled and classified and these only
await the opportunity which an increasing virulence of attack upon native
immorality—ignoring that of the white race which obtains in every African
town—will precipitate.
The chief indictment against the African is that of being incurably
lazy. Prejudice has so blinded the eyes of critics that they do not see
the fleets of sail and steam craft which the horny black hands send to
and from the West Coast laden with produce. Look over a single ship;
there are boat-boys, deck-boys, boys for cleaning brass, washing plates
and dishes, splicing ropes, hauling rigging and painting ironwork. “Boys”
for loading barrels of oil, for towing and loading floats of giant
timbers, all of whom, more or less, keep the doctor busy bandaging their
crushed fingers and toes or sometimes their broken heads. “Boys,” too,
for delivering cargo ashore, through the wild surf in which many lose
their lives every year.
Those who have a leaning towards the “lazy nigger” theory would do well
to stand for a single hour at the Liverpool docks and watch that unbroken
stream of drays heavily laden with tons upon tons of mahogany for our
tables; cocoa beans for our chocolates; rubber for our motor cars; palm
oil for our soap; kernels which presently will find their oil labelled
“fine salad oil,” or “rich margarine.” The sundries, too, are there
by the waggon load; hemp and cotton, ground-nuts and skins, ebony and
ivory, a veritable river of produce flowing into the heart of the British
Empire without intermission. Nothing can check that flow, nothing can
stop its increase, for it springs to-day from lands overflowing with
forest wealth; lands where natives are inured to the hardships of labour,
natives of infinite patience and withal the world’s keenest traders.
There is but one danger to this increasing flow—race prejudice—which may,
unless checked, give birth to actions which will utterly shatter African
confidence in the British race.
[Sidenote: THE DAY OF RECKONING OR REFORMS]
The critics of the African all agree that he has one good point—“he
takes his gruel like a man”—“flog him when he is in the wrong and he
won’t resent it; flog him thoroughly whilst you are at it, and he will
even thank you for it.” If this doctrine should ever firmly possess the
minds of those whose duty it is to administer West African colonies, the
Governments will be faced with a danger impossible to exaggerate. To make
this opinion an article of administrative faith is to provide the white
with a salve for every act of injustice which irritating circumstances
and climate so constantly generate. In every colony in West Africa there
are some few white men who are wholly trusted by the natives, and their
homes and hospitality are at their disposal day and night. Naturally
these are the experienced men of the coast, or those of repute amongst
the natives; the easy grace with which they move in and out amongst
the people at all hours, and in all circumstances, is demonstrative
of the confidence they enjoy. Discuss the natives and the problems of
administration with such men and the furrowed brow wrinkles still more,
and they tell you a change must come soon, or—“Certain white men would be
wise to clear.” It is for statesmen at home to recognize the danger in
time and choose between a day of reform or a day of reckoning.