The Articulation Of Witchcraft & Modes Of Production Among The Nupe

29. However, again we enter the sphere of mere speculation, and further investigation would be required. Although the Ndako Gboya is still a “secret society” in the sense in which Nadel used this expression (cf. Nadel 1954:196), as the members of the lodges still guard certain important secrets on the rules and the magic of the cult, the very source of their power, and as they threaten any adept with serious punishment (even the death penalty) should he dare to betray their secrets, the cult can no longer be described as a “closed society”– with the exception of the strong gender bias which still exists.

According to the Heads of the lodges in Gbado and Tankpufu , i.e. the two major centres of the cult to the south of the Niger , any self-confident and reliable man who feels strong enough to stand the initiation rites and to keep the secret of the kútí (i.e. ritual or magic), may apply for membership. The high initiation fees of former times which were as high as £ 20 (or twice the customary bride price) (cf. Nadel 1954:194) have been reduced to a token payment of one cock and some 60 Kobos (1 Naira = 100 Kobos) intended for the initiation sacrifice. The attitude of the villagers towards the Ndako Gboya seems to have changed considerably, too. The terrifying influence which the dancing masks used to have on women, in particular, has almost gone, as far as I can judge from my limited experience of two performances at Tsambafu and Bida. This may be taken as another sign of the vanishing influence of the cult in general. And although one of my informants, a high ranking Nupe officer from Koro (east of Patigi), but resident in Ilorin, would not exclude that the Ndako Gboya still served the aim of upholding the authority of men over women and extracting resources from them, he also agreed that most villages which still harbour one of the lodges of the society perform their dances mainly to honour a cherished tradition.

It remains to be added that at present, as in the past, the purpose of the masquerade is not restricted to social entertainment or to fighting actual cases of witchcraft, but is still used to en- sure the well-being of the village at large, e.g. the cult pleads for rain at times of drought, helps women to become pregnant, or protects the villagers against illness (cf. Nadel 1954:195). When there was a change in the District Headship at Doko in 1976, even the compound of the D.H. (District Head or hakìmi, pl. hàkìmai) had to be cleansed by the Ndako Gboya to protect the new D.H. against any evil magic which might have been placed in his official residence during the interregnum. Although the new District Head, as usual belonging to the Majigi royal family in Bida, ridiculed this performance a little, due to the presence of a European researcher like myself,

29 Cf. Morton-Williams (1960) and Fadipe (1970) on the traditional Ogboni society; for current examples cf. The Sun, of 05. & 19.08.2004, as well as other Nigerian newspaper reports in the following month, on the Okija-affair.

he was nevertheless eager to point out that he is the major authority over all movements of the Ndako Gboya in his district. He claimed that even the Etsu Nupe had to consult him before he could send the mask to any village in his district. But, according to him, the villages preferred to handle all witchcraft cases which they were unable to settle themselves through mediation by the D.H.

Therefore, it is no wonder that during the D.H’s three years of tenure (1973-76) at Doko, the Ndako Gboya of Kusogi (which was under his jurisdiction) was not called at all for the purpose of detecting and punishing witches, although the D.H. himself had to deal with three witchcraft cases during this time, according to his own statement. The first took place in Ebagi, a hamlet south of Doko, where he was called at night because the inhabitants had accused a witch of poisoning the village well. The second and third cases occurred in Doko itself; the issues centred around marriage disputes (i.e. jealousy and adultery). The D.H. asserted that he was capable of telling at once – if necessary with the help of the Sagi – whether the accused was a witch or not. And, in the D.H.’s own words, “because the peasants still fear and respect my autho- rity, I normally succeed in convincing the evil-doers to loosen their spell on their victims, – otherwise, they are threatened with jail”. As, however, only Upper Area Courts, like that of Bida, are allowed to deal with witchcraft cases, simple Area Courts, such as those in Doko, Kutigi, or Mokwa, can make only preliminary investigations. The last of such cases in Doko occurred in 1975 and involved one local policeman who had an argument with a prostitute whom he “forgot” to pay. According to the D.H., she tried to impress the policeman with the following incident: Some days after the dispute, the policeman took a kettle as he wanted to clean his mouth and hands for prayer and suddenly heard a voice, coming from nowhere saying, “Don’t touch me, I am poisoned”.

Though he was surprised and startled he tried again, but the warning was repeated. The case was reported to the local Judge and investigated with the help of the Sagi . The detected “witch” confessed to being responsible for this incident and to wanting to teach her customer a lesson. This example may serve as an illustration that witches are supposed not just to kill randomly, but that as a rule there is a kind of “Dantesque appropriateness” between the offence of the victim and the punishment by the witch, as Salamone observed with respect to the neigh- bouring Gbagyi (cf. Salamone 1980:9). The range of such “punishments” is said to stretch from impotence to pauperisation and murder. This became evident in a case related to me by a Hausa assistant to the Irrigation Officer in Patigi: In 1976 the Irrigation Officer laid off some of his workers for reasons. Two weeks later he had a road accident under strange circumstances, escaping narrowly with his life. Some days later, my informant overheard a conversation between two of the sacked Nupeworkers in which one of them boasted of having bewitched the officer in causing the accident.

expressively to serve as a first warning, but that this “idiot” would not escape so easily the second time. It seems to be noteworthy that this time the self-confessed “witch” was a male, who, what is more, belonged to the Ndako Gboya society, according to his own words. This indicates the general ambivalence of many Nupe towards medicine-men or witch-finders, who they often equate – unconsciously or not – with witches themselves, as we shall see later in detail (cf. similar Salamone (1980:15) on Gbagyi medicine-men). How many of such or similar cases are brought to the courts annually, or whether the number has increased or decreased over the years is difficult to tell30But since most Nupe peasants are still bewildered by the ambivalent attitude of Western-educated judges towards the handling of witchcraft cases, and as they do not feel sure about the intentions of the existing law (cf. Nadel 1954:163/4), it is doubtful that significantly more witchcraft cases are handled by the courts today than in the 1930s.

As in the past, the courts are most likely to be involved only if witchcraft cases assume strong political overtones, or if serious offences, like murder, were committed. The following two case histories may serve as an illustration. The first case, which received nationwide attention, took place in spring 1973 in Mwuo, a remote village on the western border of Nupe land 31. As usual, there are different versions of the story. According to one version, the victim was a 28–year-old patent medicine seller, born in a Christian family and a staunch member of the UMCA (United Missionary Church of Africa) in a village whose population was almost equally made up of Moslems and Christians. The medicine seller, G., had a quarrel with his mother and other co-villagers, possibly because of his recent marriage with an 18-year-old girl, and was warned by his brother, a pastor at the Salaka Bible School, to leave his village over New Year. However, G. disregarded this warning and subsequently fell seriously ill.

Two days later he died. The villagers suspected that he died as a result of some “evil practices”, they buried him in the village cemetery after a funeral service con- ducted at the local church. Four months later, the dead and buried man was found alive again – though distressed and confused – in the bush near Ndafu, a hamlet some 18 miles from Mwuo. The story of this apparent rise from the dead spread rapidly, and the Local Administration – fearful of the religious and political disorder that might ensue from this story – instructed all religious leaders in Mwuo to tell their congregation that no human being could ever arise from the dead. The case of the “resurrected” man was later investigated by the police of Mokwa , a .

30 Both the former Chief Àlkali of Bida, who was among the members who drafted the Nigerian Penal Code (including section 214 to 219 on ordeal, juju, and witchcraft) and who was one of the chief members of the Emir’s Council at the time of the interview, and the Àlkali at the Bida Upper Area Court in 1976, were very reluctant to provide any useful information on this issue. 31 The incident received nationwide publicity, as one Nigerian magazine carried a photo-story on this witchcraft case; cf. “Mystery man of Mwuo”, in: “Spear – Nigeria’s National Magazine”, July 1973:15-18.

medical officer from Bida General Hospital, and even the Etsu Nupe himself. A skeleton of doubtful origin was dug up from G.’s grave, which some villagers had found unusually depressed shortly after the burial. It was suspected that the Christian community of Mwuo, or at least its re- presentatives, took part in a religiously motivated campaign to destabilise the traditional (Islamic) authorities. The former Village Head and others were tried in the courts for inciting religious unrest, first at Mokwa, then at Bida and Minna (the division and state capital, respectively). The accused Village Head was deposed, whereas the victim was apparently able to turn the newly acquired fame into money. At least, G. owned a Toyota van and ran a prosperous medicine sel- ling business in 1982 32.

The second case took place long ago, in 1953, but is still of interest because it throws light on the close relationship between Nupe and Gbagyi witchcraft beliefs which, quite contrary to Nadel’s theory (cf. Nadel 1952:267), the peasants, at least, believe to exist (cf. similar Salamone 1980:4). The incident took place at Yidna, a Gbagyi village in Paiko District (neighbouring Badeggi District in the former Bida Division). It centred around accusations of unlawful trials by ordeal administered by three Nupe medicine-men 33. At that time mass ordeals were also endemic in Nupe land. This was probably due to the fact that, in view of the official prohibition of the witch hunts of the Ndako Gboya , the people thought they had no alternative means to detect witches than to take recourse to individual witch finders. The people of Yidna feared that their village was troubled by an evil spirit, which among other things had caused illness and an attempted murder of the Nákorjí, the Nupe title of the Village Head of Yidna, when the latter was riding through the bush.

In November 1952, the Nakorjí sent for three travelling Nupe “witch doctors” (bocizi) 34 who had been seen practising in some neighbouring villages (Gawu and Buku). As the bocizi had never before been in that area, they first asked the Sarkin Paiko, the District Head, for permission to come to Yidna, which was granted after they had sent him a tribute of £ 5, as well as a calabash of cola nuts. When the Nupe bochizhi , two brothers and one of their friends from Bida, who earned their living by such extortion tours, arrived at the village, they told the population that the Sarkin Paiko had given them authority to dispense a liquid potion for everybody in all the hamlets of his district and that this would reveal any witch among the population. Anyone who should refuse to drink their “medicine” would be arrested. The next morning, the whole village assembled in front of the door of the Nákorjí’s compound, and everybody, including babies, had to drink from the potion, mixed from water and different .

32 However, according to another local source of information, G. was later accused of being a witch himself because two children died shortly after he treated them with an injection. 33 Cf. here and in the following: NAK, MINPROF. 2478, “Preliminary inquiry: Regina vs. Moh. Kusogi Bida and 5 others”, trial at the court of Minna, Jan. 16, 1953. 34 Medicine men or “witch doctors” are called boci (pl. bocizi) or cigbeci (pl. cigbecizi) in Nupe ; the suffix ci indicating the actor or owner of the medicine ( Chigbe , in Nupe ). The Gbagyi equivalent is beki.

powders by Moh. Kusogi, the leading boci. Some of the villagers fell down immediately after drinking the potion, while three of them – all women – died on the spot and were buried the same day. This caused some concern among the bocizi because, according to their own statement, all their victims had recovered from similar ordeals in the past, if treated with an antidote (in this case lemon juice). But since the villagers were convinced that the women who died were indeed witches, the travellers could nevertheless collect ransom money or fines from the victims and their relatives, respectively.

One unlucky man, whose mother and wife died, had to give £ 3, two lengths of cloth, and a chicken. Others gave a big gown, three lengths of cloth, and five chickens or 35 shillings and a chicken, etc. It is interesting to note that there was little opposition to the dealings of the bocizi, even among the relatives of the deceased victims. When one of them dared to protest, the elders replied: “Why has your mother died, others drank and are still alive?” The husband of another woman who died during the ordeal even agreed that “she died as a consequence of her evil ways” as revealed by the ordeal. And yet another villager confessed to one of the bocizi that he was an evil person and had attempted to kill the Nakorji by witchcraft. Eventually, in spite of the attempt by the villagers to cover up the incident, the colonial administrators heard about it, albeit by chance. At about the same time, another famous boci called Ndasogba, from Badeggi, used to tour the southern and eastern Districts of Nupe land on the invitation of villages who sent for him to cleanse their villages from witchcraft. He was known as the leading herbalist in the Cis-Kaduna area in the last two decades of colonial rule and was in the habit of organising public trials to prove the innocence of persons who were suspected of being witches. Reasons for such suspicion were described by the Nupe as follows: If a person is bewitched and falls ill, there is a chance that he (or she) will signify the name of the person who has bewitched him in his dreams. The dream figure will be only dimly recognizable through a column of smoke 35. However, the victim himself will not be able to remember either his dream or the name he uttered.

Therefore, the cooperation of the boci or the watcher at the sick-bed is required to note down the name of the accused – usually, a person with whom the victim is in close contact. The relatives of the bewit- ched or the boci himself will then visit the accused person and demand the release of his or her spell. Should the accused refuse or deny the accusation, he or she will be forced (normally moral coercion will suffice, as the whole story will be spread round the village) to prove innocence by

35 Cf. “Note on witchcraft in Badeggi District”, A.H.M. Kirk Greene, Badeggi, September 24, 1954; included in: NAK, Bida Div., Non-Current Papers, B118, 1933, “Witchcraft cases and anti-witchcraft in Nupe society”; cf. similar, Frobenius (1924.9:65). – The reference to smoke in this report probably indicates the use of a certain anti-witchcraft medicine, called toràri, which is put beside the sick person on a fire and is supposed to cause the bewitched person to utter the name of the evil spirit. According to the Etsu Zugurma, the toràri was one of the most powerful anti- witchcraft medicines in the 1980s, and had replaced the ndakógbòyá, at least in the Eban/Zugurma area of Nupe land.

ordeal. Two well-known Nupe potions were applied: ukpa and kpakangichi , made from the powdered bark of a poisonous tree 36. Similar kinds of witch finding in other parts of the country were already used in the twenties as a means to extort money, as a report by H.M. Irwin indicated. The report was included in the above-mentioned memo on witchcraft prepared for the Resident of the Niger state Province 37. Whether this report, together with the sad experience of the extortion tours of the Ndako Gboya described above, caused the British Resident to exert some moral pressure on the Etsu Nupe is not known.

But it is likely that the Colonial Officers persuaded the Etsu and his council to take a closer look at such mass ordeals. In the above- mentioned case of Ndasogba, at least, the Etsu told his District Heads that such public trials would spread only worries and fears among their people and would cause disunity among them. He ordered the hakimai (D.H.) to announce that any community inviting witch doctors, as well as those who would apply the ordeal, would be seriously punished. Apparently, this order was implemented immediately.

After Ndasogba was caught a third time, the Àlkalin Àlkaki of Bida fined him as well as the inhabitants of Tswakoko, the village which had invited him, £ 5 38. However, this reflects only the official handling of the subject. Similar to the prohibition of tribute payments (under the pretext of zakkat) – which the British tried in vain to enforce because it ran contrary to the interest of the ruling class (cf. Kohnert 1982:99-119) – the traditional autho- rities apparently were not very eager to stop the business of “witch-finders”. Even after the death of the Ndasogba, other travelling bochizhi ( Nupe Native Doctors ) continued to perform “ witch trials ” in Nupe land unmolested.

One well-known boci in western Trans-Kaduna, who continued to earn his living in 1982 by touring villages on invitation, was the Ndagena of Ebi. His junior brother, a boci himself at Mokwa, told me that both of them, assisted by other villagers, conducted a witch hunt in Mokwa just four weeks before my arrival. Altogether, four witches were detected and punished. They were all females, one old and three younger women, married, but from different families. None of them could be called rich, though each of them had her sideline occupation, e.g. petty trading in foodstuffs. All cases centred around conflicts within the extended family. In two of the cases, the

36 In the court case against Moh. Kusogi, mentioned above, the potion, analysed by a Government chemist, revealed a lethal dose of aworoso, which is sometimes used as a purgative in a smaller dose. 37 “Sometimes, however, this belief in witchcraft was only used as an excuse for raising money by the chiefs. When someone died, the relatives when bearing away the corpse would approach as if voluntary the door of a certain man, who would at once be accused of causing the death of the deceased.

The victim would always be a man of means which would be appropriated by the Chief. The latter would previously give his instructions to the deceased’s relatives and probably a present also for their pains… The natural effect of such a custom was to militate against the acquisition of wealth, as its possession was a source of temptation to the accuser. Even today no pagan will make a display of wealth…” H.M. Irwin, D.O., “Extract from Kumbashi Assessment Report, 1920”, NAK, MINPROF, M. 1228, 1934. 38 Cf. the correspondence of Etsu Nupe , Muh. Ndayako, on “Ndasogba Mai-Maganin Maita” and related subjects, Nov. 1952 to Feb. 1954; included in: NAK, Bida Div., Non-Current Papers, B 118.

Mother of the family head was accused of having bewitched her son and husband “to give his mother money”, i.e. to guarantee the social security of his mother. In another case, a young schoolboy fell seriously ill. He was allegedly bewitched by a barren older woman living in the same compound and said to be jealous of the fertility of her female co-residents. In both cases, the accused women “confessed” their evil deeds and loosened their spell, i.e. their “victims” reco- vered from their illness 39. Whether these confessions were made without coercion is doubtful, last but not least, because my informants in Mokwa agreed that if an accused person tried to argue, he or she would be forced to prove his or her innocence by an ordeal, applied either by the Ndako Gboya or a boci. In the Mokwa region, the accused was given a certain potion, called fien or tagan, which is meant to cause him to confess immediately if he or she is a witch. Innocent people, they say, do not feel anything if they drink the medicine 40.

As late as 1982, witches were also punished by flogging, and in more serious cases they were exposed naked in the streets of the village in broad daylight, beside payments in cash and/or kind to the boci or the Ndako Gboya . First of all, however, they were ordered to repair the harm they were accused of having caused. The failure or agreement to obey this order was a decisive element in determining the degree of the punishment. Although Nadel’s informants, at least, maintained that a witch was never killed, since that would only entail revenge by other witches (cf. Nadel 1954:188), this information was apparently falsified by the evidence of violent clashes connected with the “witchcraft riots” in Bida in 1931, when troops even had to be called out to quell the riots (cf. Nadel 1942:127; 1954:163). Also, one of my informants, a Nupe from Kata eregi , confessed that as a young boy he had taken part in the stoning of a witch in his village.

The witch in question was an old woman who confessed to having bewitched her co-wife out of jealousy. This case, however, took place in the late thirties and it seems unlikely that such an incidence of stoning would occur today, although one should not rule out the possibility, last but not least in view of the heated international controversy around the stoning verdicts of Sharia courts, related to cases of adultery, in other Northern Emirates in 2003 and 2004. Generally

39 According to the elders of Mokwa there are seven different kinds of illness caused by witchcraft in Nupe land: (1) shamu, i.e. stomach trouble which causes severe pain to the victim right from birth; (2) zana-zana which can be seen in the eyes; (3) lan-jwan-jwa which is witnessed through continuous headache; (4) esu, i.e. severe pains under the ribs; (5) wuregi, an illness which paralyses the whole body; (6) kparagi, i.e. convulsions which are lethal for children; (7) bogun, which will cause the body of the victim to swell up so that he loses his power. 40 Yet another ordeal, known as wasa, was applied in the Doko area.

This is a snake bite medicine, the belief being that a true witch would be killed or at least frightened and subdued by a snake after drinking the medicine (cf. also Nadel 1954:188). As the former D.H. of Doko told me, the wasa medicine was still applied in Jima/Doko District in 1982, also to detect thieves. The same is valid for the sòrògi dance, mentioned already by Nadel (1954:188), which was still applied as recently as 1982 in villages south of the Niger state , to detect and to punish witches, who are supposed to get a swollen throat from watching the dance, according to the Lile of Gbado. The ordeal where the suspect had to scratch the ground with his finger-nails until blood appeared from under his nails (cf. Frobenius 1924.9.:66; Nadel 1954:188), however, disappeared some generations ago, at least in the Mokwa region.

speaking, according to the elders of Mokwa, the most serious cases will nowadays be handed over to the police and the courts. The bocizi are often assisted in their search for evil magic by the Village Head and the Lelu of affected villages. The use of the word Lelu is ambiguous in Nupe . In pre-jihad times (i.e. before 1806) it denoted the office of the Head Woman of a village, and it still refers to the supposed spiritual qualities of this woman (cf. Nadel 1954:167/68).

But as many Nupe villagersused to call any woman who is suspected of being experienced in witchcraft Lelu, in a rather abusive sense 41, the existence of a Lelu in a village will often be denied by the inhabitants. Therefore, it is doubtful whether the assertion of the Majin Dodo of Kusogi that today the Lelu is found only in Patigi Emirate is valid. Other informants, natives of Doko, insisted that they still have a Lelu in this village, which is only a few kilometres from Kusogi. In Dabba, a medium- sized village in Trans-Kaduna, they even have four Lelu, one for each of the four village wards.

These women were so much respected by the Nkó, the Head Woman of Dabba and a great her- balist herself, that she had to consult them first before granting me an interview, out of fear that otherwise, these women would take her to task because of single-handed decisions on such an important matter as providing information to strangers. It is, therefore, evident that many Nupe villages still have their Lelu, but as witchcraft remains such a sensitive issue, people would rather avoid calling her by that title. However, everybody agreed that a Lelu is not sufficient to check evil magic at the village le- vel. Despite the relatively dense network of “witch-finders” described above, most interviewed Nupe authorities insisted that the number of witches in Nupe land must have increased over time. Three reasons were given to explain this development. The first two of these explanations seem to be quite obvious with regard to the inner logic of occult belief systems: Firstly, population growth caused a growing effective demand for witchcraft medicine.

The growth of population meant that other figures being equal, the absolute number of witches would double every 25 years 42. In addition, it was said that the incidence of witchcraft per village increased in relative terms as well. This was explained by the growing impact of the market economy and the aftermath of the Nigerian oil boom (both in terms of economic growth and the spread of corruption and social differentiation), which had its side effects in Nupe land, too; more money became available in the villages, leading to more opportunities and a greater effective demand for witchcraft medicine 43. The Nupe , as a rule, believe that witchcraft is not necessarily hereditary since there are various

41 Cf. memo of M. Aliyu on witchcraft and related subjects” NAK, Bida Div., Non-Current Papers, B118, 1938. 42 Population increase in Nigeria was estimated at about 2 to 2.5 per cent per annum in 1982 in the countryside and 3 per cent in the urban areas. This would imply that the population – and ceteris paribus with it, the absolute number of witches – doubled within one generation (or every 23 to 35 years). 43 The Nupe have various names for such medicines ( chigbe ): They call them ega (n), like witchcraft in general, eshe, like the name for male witches, or bàdufù, literally, “dark place” (cf. Nadel 1954:158/59).

methods of acquiring it (cf. Nadel 1954:165/66, 170). The most common method, they say, is to buy the cigbè, either from other witches or from a cigbèci or boci, the crucial implication being that the evil deed of the witch is intended. In view of the legal situation, no boci would ever admit openly to selling such witchcraft medicine, but nevertheless some offer “guestimates” on the costs involved, namely some £ 5 in the “olden days”, probably Naira 400 – 600 in 1982 44. Therefore, my informants reasoned, someone who is really poor could hardly be a witch. But, as they said, you never know, since a young girl could have been initiated into this sinister oc- cupation free of charge by her mother, who was already a witch.

The growth of the market economy also played a crucial part in the closely related reasoning of some of my informants, that with the oil boom and its socio-economic effects spreading well into the countryside, it became easier to accumulate capital. In fact, the impact could be easily seen in the growing farms of rich peasants and capitalist absentee farmers and the flourishing business of big traders all over Nupe land. But the growing social differentiation, even within the village (cf. Kohnert 1979; 1982), raised the envy of the poorer villagers, and some of them accused their wealthy neighbours of having enriched themselves by evil means. However, as we have already seen, this widely reported “natural effect” of witchcraft accusations to militate against the unequal acquisition of wealth, is nothing new. It was already noted by British colonial officers in the 1920’s (cf. the touring notes of H.M. Irwin, D.O., quoted above), and it is also common in other African societies 45. However, there is no empirical evidence available to back the working hypothesis that witchcraft accusation as a means of defending traditional egalitarian community structures against the intrusion of rural capitalism in Nupe land increased in importance over time, relative to other factors such as jealousy or greed.

The most worrying local explanation for the growing incidence of witchcraft accusations in Nupe land was given by “Papa Angulu”, a former Reverend of the Church Missionary Society (CMS) at Doko. His account was confirmed later by the similar reasoning of other informants and runs as follows: In view of the official ban of the Ndako Gboya and of witchcraft ordeals, many Nupe were afraid of being left unprotected against the evil intentions of the witches, now supposed to be spread all over the country without any effective control. In addition, the power and influence of the Ndako Gboya and the Lelu deteriorated due to other reasons listed above. Under these adverse circumstances, it might happen that a desperate family head or a mother would feel pressed to resort to witchcraft to protect the family against evil magic from outsiders. The argument behind this reasoning is that it is possible to drive out the devil with Beelzebub (similar to the concept of the Lelu and the Ndako Gboya , cf. Nadel 1954:191). However, this could

44 Frobenius (1924.9:68) mentioned that a “Boschi” would ask a price of 30,000 cowries in 1909, i.e. roughly the equivalent of the price of a slave in pre-colonial times. 45 Cf. Salamone (1980) on the Gbagyi ( Gwari / Gbari ); Parrinder (1953:54) on the Yoruba ; Brantley (1979:131/32) and Parkin (1979:223) on the Giriama of Kenya ; Comaroff/Comaroff 1999 on South Africa .

lead to the tragic situation that a mother, in her despair about an actual incidence of witchcraft, might see no alternative other than to commit a ritual murder, either to appease the witches, or as a precondition for acceptance into the witch order as the Nupe see it 46. Since, for a mother, the most easily available victims are likely to be young children (notably young girls) of her own extended family, especially the kin of her husband or co-wives, she was said to be faced with the tragic choice of either killing one of her own relatives in order to be able to protect the rest of the family against the evil intentions of co-witches, or of leaving the family unprotected 47.

This indicates that altruistic reasons for practising witchcraft also existed beside the usual selfish reasons given, such as greed or jealousy. Regarding the logic fabric of Nupe religion, this certainly had serious repercussions on the way the relatives and neighbours of the witch as well as the bocici, and maybe, even the Alkali courts evaluated the witchcraft committed. Furthermore, it is an additional explanation of why in the view of the _, the evilness of the witch is so often directed against his or her husband’s or co-wives’ kin. And as the woman is considered to be the traditional keeper of the family by the Nupe , this was given by my informants as a final explanation of why more women than men are accused of witchcraft 48.

Towards A New Conception Of Nupe Witchcraft

In summary, a consistent local concept of Nupe witchcraft, if existent, would have to distinguish between at least two different kinds of witchcraft: Firstly, the employment of black magic – e.g. the sacrifice of one’s own family members – for good ends, i.e. to protect the rest of the family49. And secondly, the use of black magic to harm anyone in order to satisfy unsocial, selfish desires,

46 Cf. Nadel 1954:165; a more prosaic, but no less tragic, situation would arise if a family head or a mother, in desperate need of protection against witchcraft, were requested by the consulted witch-doctor to commit ritual murder in order to get parts of the human body considered to be necessary for the preparation of an anti-witchcraft medicine. Cases of ritual murder are reported periodically in the newspapers, not only from Nupe land , but from all parts of Nigeria, one of the outstanding cases being the Okija-cult incident in Anambra state, mentioned before. The spread and commercialisation of so-called muti-murder, i.e. ritual murder for the purpose of enhancing the business success of greedy businessmen, has been widely commented in Southern Africa in recent years (e.g. in South Africa, Tanzania, Zimbabwe); it has already been subject to scholarly analyses (cf. Comaroff/Comaroff 1999). 47 Precisely this protection of the family against witchcraft might be the strange “special” and “unintelligible pleasure” which Frobenius (1924.9:67) narrated 80 years ago from the Nupe in Mokwa in the following, somewhat confused statement on the reasons and methods by which the male (!) would-be Nupe witch acquired his evil craft from the boci: “If a man has many children, he may very well fear for them, or else entertain the hope, by means of their help, namely in sacrificing some of them, to gain a special pleasure, which is, of course, unintelligible to us …

The man (asks the boci, D.K.): ‘Give me a good medicine which I can take home … and which I can use for me and for my children … Give me a good Tschibe (i.e. cigbe, D.K.) so that I can prove my power to everybody.'” The medicine which the family head eventually gets from the ‘Bassa-tschi’ or ‘Boschi’ has to be eaten by the witch himself ‘and all his children’. (Translation from German, D.K.). Probably, Frobenius confused and mixed the protective and the greedy reasons for acquiring witchcraft medicine, which, however, had significantly different repercussions in the logic of Nupe religion. 48 At Mokwa, my informants estimated the proportion of male to female witches to be one male (eshe) to 20 female (ega(n) or gaci, as witch is called in general in Nupe ) in a gang of witches in 1976. But as the female cannot kill without the help of the male (cf. Nadel 1954:169/70), the latter was considered to be more dangerous. However, as nowadays the males are said normally not to kill themselves, they are hardly ever detected and punished. 49 It goes without saying that even in this case the end does not justify the means, killing of family members or co- villagers, for whatever reason, is regarded by any Nupe as a capital crime.

such as greed, envy, jealousy, private redress, or other sinister reasons (killing for fun is also held to be possible, according to my informants). Apparently, there are – contrary to Nadel’s comparative witchcraft theory (cf. Nadel, 1952) – close similarities between these two types of Nupe witchcraft and the nwando and abujanke witchcraft of the neighbouring Gbagyi ( Gwari / Gbari ). My Nupe informants agreed to this, though they do not distinguish the two types by separate names. However, among the Gbagyi the nwando witchcraft is restricted to personal gains resulting from the witchcraft of males within the family, and abujanke is restricted to female witchcraft against outsiders or social enemies for reasons of revenge (cf. Salamone, 1980:6-8, 12). But it also seems necessary to point out some differences between these two indigenous witchcraft theories. Firstly, among the Nupe there is not such a strong correlation between the type of witchcraft and the sex of a witch, the victim, or the client, respectively, as among the Gbagyi50. Secondly, the Nupe , unlike the Gbagyi , do not differentiate between the “real evil-doer” (i.e. the client of the witch) and the witch, who performs the evil for him. Again, this separation between the witch and his or her client in Salamone’s witchcraft account seems to be more of a theoretical nature, as the Gbagyi hold that in practice the real evil-doer is the person who intends to harm other people with the help of either a witch or a witch-doctor (cf. Salamone, 1980:10). This is si- milar to the Nupe belief where the would-be-witch has to consult the bochi or another witch before her/his evil intentions can become effective.

The most sinister effect of witchcraft, the murder of one’s enemies or rivals, depends in each case anew on the co-operation of the boci (cf. Nadel 1954:169/70). On other occasions the Nupe witch may act directly, without the help of others, provided that he/she has been initiated into the witch order, but again dependent on the cooperation of the boci 51. Thirdly, whereas in Gbagyi society, according to Salamone, witchcraft itself acts as a means of social control, it seems that among the Nupe, witchcraft accusation, i.e. the anti-witchcraft activities, are meant to fulfil this function. This thesis may need some explanation: According to Salamone, the Gbagyi witches are “tragic” figures. They get their evil power already with their mothers’ milk, and their victims have been selected for them by their clients. These clients again seek revenge for some harm previously caused by the victim. So the witch’s victims are not innocent, on the contrary, certain social norms of Gbagyi society have been violated by every victim 52.

50 In Gbagyi witchcraft theory the client is the “real evil-doer” who consults the witch (or the witch-doctor) and selects the victim for him/her. However, it may be that Salamone overstated this point, as his case histories underline that this correlation between sex and type of witchcraft is a vague “general tendency” (cf. Salamone, ibid.). 51 However, the question remains open as to why – contrary to the Nupe – the Gbagyi should punish not the “real evil-doers” but their partners in crime (i.e. the consulted witch) as Salamone (1980:10/11) maintains.

This is even more puzzling as the Gbagyi say – contrary to the Nupe – that one becomes a witch not by intention but by birth, unconsciously and involuntarily (cf. Salamone, 1980:9). 52 Cf. Salamone (1980:5, 13). Those violations are “jealousy, hatred, refusing to share good fortune, withholding love, injustice, and resorting to magic to advance your fortune to the detriment of another. All can be reduced to the formulation that violators have not acted like true Gbagyi ” (ibid., p. 13). – This statement raises some doubts again: According to the case histories that Salamone provides as examples to clarify his point (ibid., p.9), at least jealousy and hatred were motives of the witches and their clients, not of their victims. In fact, the latter interpretation would appear more reasonable and is common not only among the Nupe but also in many other African societies. However,

As shown above, under certain conditions the Nupe are also said to employ black magic against victims who openly set aside the customary social norms of Nupe society, (or are at least accused of having done so), thus punishing the social deviant. This happens especially in cases of rich people who refuse to share their resources in times of hardship. Even in such cases, where witchcraft against outsiders is employed to serve good ends, the witches would be considered as evil persons because they seek to settle their grievances individually and by illegitimate force.

This egoistic, impudent use of individual power, however, is contrary to the social norms of Nupereligion. As in most African societies, the prerogative of punishing the enemies of the society is restricted to the community, the state, or its representatives. In this respect, there is no difference between the Nupe and the Gbagyi (cf. Salamone, 1980:15). For the Nupe , however, the important point is that the use of power is not considered as such to be evil ( as maintained by Salamone (1980:15) for the Gbagyi ).

On a theoretical level, the evil embodied in the illegitimate use of individual power for selfish purposes is a necessary, but not sufficient precondition of witchcraft within the realm of the occult belief system of the Nupe .
Other things being equal, anti-witchcraft cults are a means for a society to effect sanctions against egoistic private redress, which represents the illegitimate use of individual force; illegitimate, of course, only from the standpoint of the dominant ideology, which reflects more often than not the ideology of the rulers. However, in different socio- economic formations, this could have a completely different meaning which may be camouflaged by seemingly insignificant changes in the appearance of witch purges.

Under the conditions of the communal mode of production, e.g. among the stateless village communities of the Nupe zányi (i.e. the “pure” Nupe) in pre-Edegi times up to the 15th century (cf. Nadel, 1942:19/20, 25, 73), such socially organised witch accusations might have been used as a direct defence against the usurpation of private power by despotic invaders (such as Edegi, cf. the first legend quoted above), similar to witchcraft accusations in other parts of Nigeria, as among the Tiv of the “Middle Belt” (cf. Tseayo, 1975:57-65). Under the slave (or semi-feudal) mode of production of the 18th and 19th century they were used by the Nupe state, first as a method of securing and consolidating the appropriation of power from the gentile organisation 53.

Afterwards, during a period stretching from the Nupe jihad (i.e. during the 19th century) well into the colonial mode of production (i.e. the first half of the 20th century), the witch hunts were used as Ndako Gboya extortion tours 54. This might have been welcomed by the ruling class in Bida as a

this interpretation would fail to back Salamone’s thesis that among the Gbagyi the witches act as agents of social control. 53 According to narratives of the Nupe , as recorded by Frobenius in 1912, the Head of the Ndako Gboya and the Etsu Nupe already shared the extortion money, which is said to have been paid in cash (200,000 cowries, i.e. the price of 4 – 7 slaves) and in kind (e.g. cola, goats, chicken) per village, at the time of Edegi (cf. Frobenius 1924.9:79-81; cf. also Kohnert (1982:62-90) on the articulation of the slave mode of production in Nupe land). 54 Crowther and Taylor (1859:215), who were among the first missionaries to arrive in Nupe land, wrote about the big mask ( Igunnuko ) of the Ndako Gboya in the Rabba-Mokwa-Region of Trans-Kaduna: “These ( Gunnuko ) dance

substitute for the expropriation of the peasantry through tribute and slave hunts, which were first restricted and finally forbidden by the British colonial power (cf. Kohnert 1982; Mason 1981). Thus, the anti-witchcraft cult in this period reconfirmed the power of the ruling class in threefold respect: Apart from acting as a substitute for the punitive expeditions against disloyal or resistant tributary villages, especially in Trans-Kaduna, it was an open sign of the power of local rulers in the profane as well as in the spiritual world and signified their judicial authority even over the occult enemies of the society, as they themselves defined them. And thirdly, by promoting the witch craze in Nupe land, it served to disguise their true goals of aggression, of exploiting the peasantry. In this respect, it is revealing that not only individual women but whole villages were accused, and the Village Head had to pay a heavy ransom to the members of the lodges.

Quite often, the villagers appealed to the Etsu Nupe , to order the Maji(n) Dodo to recall his servants (cf. Nadel 1935:441; 1954:196); but in fact, the Etsu himself was considered to be the prime instigator of the extortion tours of the Ndako Gboya , as mentioned above. This lends further support to the thesis that anti-witchcraft cults among the Nupe were principally based on class antagonism and only to a lesser extent on gender-specific cleavages, although the latter should by no means be excluded from consideration as another determinant.

However, I do not think that it is necessary to take sides, either for or against cognitive, political, feminist, or any other “pure” witchcraft theory. All of these, when taken alone, are likely to be too restrictive, although each of them may contain valid arguments. The point is, that anti-witchcraft movements may change their content and meaning over time, although their outer appearance remains the same; a change which is closely related to and interdependent with the different modes of production in which they are embedded. It seems equally important to note that witchcraft accusations themselves may not only have served opposite ends under different modes of production but might also have done so in quite different manners, i.e. the societies concerned, in adhering to the Ndako Gboya , used quite different social or socio-psychological mechanisms to achieve their goals.

As Nadel (1954:4-5) rightly observed, Nupe peasants, similar to peasants all over Africa, do not face the choice between faith and knowledge concerning the explanation of the realities of their life. They generally believe that hard work and good weather will provide a good harvest, but may hold that under certain conditions, good or evil spirits would bring the same results. Notwithstanding the fact that in African as well as in Western societies, religious or magic and scientific knowledge are complementary to rather than exclusive of one another, this absence of conflict between the supernatural and natural science becomes relevant on different levels of

about from village to village and receive cowries. They exercise some tyrannical influence over the people during the time of their appearance.”

explanation. It is against this background that I would like to forward three working hypotheses which would challenge Nadel’s witchcraft theory if they should prove to be valid. Firstly, the anti-witchcraft cult among the Nupe was created in the beginning as a direct means of defence against an aggressor, i.e. the Nupe openly pointed at the true enemy of the community, whom they tried to eliminate; therefore, at this stage of development of Nupesociety, anti-witchcraft accusations would be misinterpreted as symptoms of mental stress in the society. Secondly, even if one were to agree that witchcraft accusations of the Nupe were developed to cover up social frustrations and anxieties, it does not necessarily follow that they are to be interpreted as pathological symptoms of the society, i.e. as a (social) illness which had to be cured. If, as I maintained at the beginning, under certain circumstances (e.g. anti-colonial witchcraft movements, accusations against selfish accumulation of resources), witchcraft accusations act to attack directly or indirectly (through scapegoats) true enemies of the society, they might prove to be a powerful antidote – serving to prevent the destruction of the valid social structure.

The fact that, from the Western point of view of rational science, better medicines (i.e. social strategies) exist, may not be of great help to the stakeholders as long as the actual relations of production in which they are embedded do not favour the development of such a superior social medicine. Thirdly, socially organised witchcraft accusations (e.g. organised by anti- witchcraft cults) are to be interpreted as pathological symptoms of social conflicts only if they are mainly used (consciously or unconsciously) by dominant forces in a society to repress or exploit other social groups, i.e. if they serve the same purpose as ideologies 55. In this respect, the degree to which the witch hunt is ritualised may serve as an indicator of the strength of the ideological component of such a purge (cf. Bergensen 1978:127-28): a high degree, such as that of the Ndako Gboya performances described by Frobenius (1924.9.:65-68, 78-82) and Nadel (1954:188-201), indicating a strong exploitative character, and a comparatively low degree, like that of the current performances of the Ndako Gboya lodges (see above), pointing to a diminishing exploitative content. Only in this context do witch hunts tend to canalise social antagonism by diverting the interest from the real source of the conflicts.

But to stress the point again, “canalise” does not mean that they solve the conflict. On the contrary, in the long run, they tend to build up social tensions even further. Finally, it goes without saying that the Durkheimian methodology of “concomitant variations”, i.e. detecting relevant social divergences by further, concomitant divergences, a method which, according to Nadel (1952:264) “any enquiry concerned with social facts must employ”, will be meaningful in the latter two cases only. However, let us be clear about it. Much further and deeper empirical investigation is neces- sary before we can arrive at any conclusive theory on the social function and meaning of Nupe

55 Here, ideology is not meant in the totalitarian Mannheimian sense, but in the stricter sociological meaning of wrong or dependent consciousness.

witchcraft, especially in its present function and its relation to changes in the past. Currently, available information bears more resemblance to some pieces of an incomplete puzzle than to a meaningful picture. The shift from a subsistence to a market economy provoked not only the dissolution of the production unit of the extended family (efakó, in Nupe) in favour of smaller consumption units, which could hardly afford to support the sick and “unproductive” elder members, it also led to the deterioration of the economic and social independence of the female members of the farming household (cf. Kohnert 1982:232-42).

Could it be that the remarkable increase in witchcraft accusations in Nupe land is related to an individualisation of the socialisation process caused by the growth of the market economy, rural-urban migration, and class differentiation within the peasantry that promotes the personification of evil powers and the apostasy from traditional beliefs in collective actions of gods or one’s ancestors 56? Could it be that the increasing prominence of females as targets of witch accusations in Nupe land over the past two or three generations was caused by the combined effect of the above mentioned socio- economic development patterns, just as during the witch craze in medieval Europe (cf. Ben- Yehuda 1980:17-18)? Was the source of witchcraft accusations against females, thus, not the jealousy of the male regarding the independent economic and sexual position of the Nupe women in the 1940s (as Nadel 1954:172-81 maintained) but, on the contrary, the growing dependence of the women on their men, whereby the latter were tempted to consolidate their newly acquired power by witchcraft accusations, which may have compensated them for the dim prospects of their own economic future? Could the predominance of accusations against old women as murderers of young children result from a fear of the guilt-ridden young, male and female alike, concerning imaginary (or real) threats of their elders who felt neglected by their kin? Was the projection of this hatred into witch fantasies promoted by the fact that, still, the only legitimate method to question the authority of senior relatives in cases of social conflict within the family was to press them into the role of an outsider? All these, and many more questions await an answer, which only painstaking further grass-root research would be able to provide.

56 A similar argument was put forward by Elwert (1980:458) concerning witchcraft movements in rural Benin, and by Comaroff/Comaroff 1999 concerning Southern Africa.

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Keywords: witchcraft , modes of production , informal politics , social conflict , occult belief , Nupe , Northern Nigeria .