Showing posts with label Al-Kanemi Dynasty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Al-Kanemi Dynasty. Show all posts

Saturday, August 1, 2026

Dynamics of Administrative Change in pre-colonial Borno: A Comparative Study of the Sayfawa and Kanemi Dynasties

Kyari Tijani's Dynamics of Administrative Change in pre-colonial Borno: A Comparative Study of the Sayfawa and Kanemi Dynasties is one of those essential studies of Borno history we have been waiting to read for three or four years. Inaccessible and difficult to access, it is a reprint of Tijani's thesis from the 1970s. As such, the publishers chose not to update the text, but they should have at least used an editor to correct the numerous mistakes or typos. That said, nothing is extreme enough to hinder comprehension for the reader. But doing so could have perhaps removed part of the lengthy introduction in which Tijani sought to apply Systems Theory to pre-colonial Borno. Or at the very least, trimmed some of it away. Nonetheless, Tijani's critical study was based on a combination of fieldwork across Borno and into Mandara (in today's Cameroon) as well as the use of local Arabic manuscripts such as the works of Muhammad Yanbu. Although Tijani himself did not read Arabic, he was able to procure translations for some of these rare sources that were products of local Borno writers and scholars in pre-colonial times. His weakness in French and German and the failure of his attempt to visit Mao in Kanem to interview locals were major flaws. This contributed to one of the weaknesses of his study, which often lacked adequate empirical evidence to support his analysis. Without the requisite language skills for deeper source analysis or criticism, some of the examples used by Tijani may not sufficiently substantiate his model. 

First, what was the theoretical approach taken by Tijani? Noticing the flaws in the "Great Man" model of Barth, Brenner, Denham and Nachtigal, as well as the weaknesses in Brenner's analysis of the rise of al-Kanemi as shehu of Borno (Tijani was also quite critical of the way Brenner sought to incorporate a conflict theory model of classes), Tijani wanted to understand the nature of Sayfawa longevity and the reasons for dynastic change in the turbulent 19th century. This is a reasonable research question: Why was a single dynasty able to persist for several centuries across time and space? And why was this dynasty, the longest lasting in African history, unable to meet the challenges of the late 1700s and early 1800s? Lastly, what were the conditions of the time and the administrative or political challenges that made a figure like Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi a candidate for leading Borno?

In Tijani's eye, Systems Theory is applicable or relevant for addressing this question. To quote Tijani, "By using its conceptual aparatii, such as the interrelations of interacting, interpenetrating units and the role and significance of legitimation processes and ideology, we have a conceptual model and methodological aparati that can cope with the dynamics of the whole system and would, therefore, enable us understand, describe, and explain Borno political development more adequately" (43). In other words, this theoretical model allows for complex nuances in terms of the interaction of ideology, administrative structure, and the military functions of the state in a heterogeneous, ecologically diverse landscape such as Kanem-Borno. In this case, religio-ideological factors such as the universalist faith of Islam were tied to state legitimation by the Sayfawa (and the subsequent al-Kanemi dynasty). Additionally, the importance of genealogy, clan or lineage affiliations, and the dynastic principle of governance tied to the legend of descent from Sayf b. Dhi Yazan were essential tools in the administrative structures of the Sayfawa. This was so even in the Kanem phase of the Sayfawa state, although Tijani's lack of success in engaging in fieldwork in Mao made his interpretations of the early centuries speculative. 

Over time, the Sayfawa adapted their administrative structure to better the standing of the central government and ensure the cultural (ideological) hegemony of the ruling house. Tijani's study traces these changes over time to understand why the Sayfawa state eventually came to an end and a new political order began with al-Kanemi. Indeed, Tijani wrote, "In this case our hypothesis is that change in such a system would be more in the sphere of administration while the political changes would be limited to restatement of pre-existing ideal goals. Change becomes necessary and tolerable when authoritative action neither matches the ideal goals stated nor meets the felt needs of the people or both." Thus, Tijani believed that the type of change that did occur with the rise of al-Kanemi was mostly in the sphere of administration as al-Kanemi restored a more centralized state. Simultaneously, he did not personally take for himself the position of mai, nor did he deviate from the Islamic ideals that were the basis of political legitimacy for the Sayfawa. 

How did Tijani prove his theory in the case of Borno? And were his conclusions on the nature of al-Kanemi's political ascent accurate or more compelling than Brenner's study of the al-Kanemi line? Before addressing that, he reviewed the source material. Some of his citations are of unpublished Arabic manuscripts from Borno. He also cited some of the materials from Nigerian archives in Kaduna and conducted fieldwork to record and engage in conversation with locals in Marte, the area of Gazargamo (Gazargumo in his spelling), Kukawa, Maiduguri, and other places. Tijani clearly saw Muhammad Yanbu's Al-Idara Fi Nizam al-Mamlaka Wa 'l-Imara as an exceptional source. A copy was procured for him by Abubakar al-Miskin, a Sayfawa descendant. Assuming Yanbu's text is an authentic work of the 18th or early 19th century, the text outlines the palace administration of Gazargamo in great detail. Unsurprisingly, Tijani also relied heavily on Palmer, the chronicles of Ahmad b. Furtu, and a famous poem by Shaykh al-Tahir b. Ibrahim. Besides these, occasional references to an unpublished Arabic text on the Fulani of Borno, some of al-Kanemi's writings, and a Mandara chronicle, or kirgam, written about that kingdom's war with Borno in c. 1781 abound. Undoubtedly, Tijani's greatest contribution here is his status as a local, fluent speaker of Kanuri with access to various local notables to discuss the past. By drawing upon oral traditions from across Borno, Tijani can begin to synthesize the two different types of source materials (oral sources and written texts) for Borno. Sadly, not being able to visit Kanem restricted what Tijani could accomplish there. Perhaps a lack of French reading comprehension placed another limitation on what Tijani could have done with Landeroin, Zeltner, and Lange.

In terms of applying or adapting Systems Theory to Kanem-Borno, Tijani is weakest on the Kanem centuries. He emphasized the "dynastic character" of Sayfawa administration in Kanem without being able to strongly support it. Based on the meager data from the external Arabic sources and certain speculations on the nature of lineage groups and the retention of power or control over people or territory based on lineage ties to the Sayfawa ruling group, the Sayfawa state in Kanem emphasized its dynastic character. This shaped the administration since relatives of the maiwa were apparently assigned powerful posts in the central government and provincial administration. Unsurprisingly, this later led to problems of fission as these groups descended from the Sayfawa administered distant territories or principalities within the larger Kanem empire, particularly after Dunama Dibalemi's reign. But much of this is difficult to illustrate with specific examples besides what was recounted in the Diwan. Outside observers who never went to Kanem, like al-Maqrizi, may be referenced for what became a decentralized administrative structure, yet Tijani did not deeply explore the rise of the Bulala as a competing lineage group. Nor was there any attempt to understand this in terms of social relations with medieval Kanem or the possible role of slaves and caste groups in this process. Ultimately, the Kanem phase of the Sayfawa appeared to have been little more than a prelude to the central area of Tijani's analysis: Borno. 

Once the Sayfawa had relocated permanently to Borno and experienced a consolidation under Ali Gaji (Ali b. Dunama), Tijani's analysis improves. With Ali Gaji, who Tijani unfortunately thought was the mai who went to war with the Kanta of Kebbi, one notes the development of a full dynastic structure of government including the koguna class. However, Ali Gaji replaced Sayfawa relatives with slave officials in some of the key military posts, ending the period of troubles in the 1200s, 1300s and 1400s when powerful officials related to the dynasty could trigger civil wars or coups. Using the example of Ali Gaji's campaign against Logone, dated to c. 1501/2 (although this was likely earlier, if one uses Lange's chronology), or the establishment of a permanent capital at Gazargamo, Tijani perceived Ali Gaji as establishing the conditions for a stronger state to emerge within Borno and the Central Sudan. Although the kogunawa later took on more administrative responsibility for the subsequent maiwa, Ali Gaji's council of state, enslaved officials, and building of a new capital tied to trade, Islamic education, and stability laid the foundation for the Sayfawa state's longevity in Borno. Even the sending of Yerima Musa against Logone was portrayed by Tijani as an instance in which the mai used dangerous campaigns as an opportunity to rid himself of political threats. Ali Gaji's victory against the Bulala at Lada was similarly important for showing the resurgence of the Sayfawa with a strong center. 

After Ali b. Dunama, Idris Alauma (Idris b. Ali) was seen as the next great statesman of the dynasty. According to Tijani, the increasing dichotomization between the center and periphery in Borno was not a problem until Idris Alauma's successors. Instead, during his reign, a greater degree of centralization took place with a modicum of political realism. Idris b. Ali took action against residual Sau populations, intervened in the succession and affairs of Mandara, Kanem, the Ngizim, and asserted Sayfawa rights to protect subject populations like the Fulani from Tuareg raids. By actively intervening within Borno and its frontier to defend subjects, promoting Islam among the Ngizim and others, resisting banditry and external enemies, and campaigning against the Bulala in Kanem, Idris b. Ali ensured the periphery was not cut off from Gazargamo. And due to the logistical and ecological difficulties of holding together a vast empire, Tijani saw Idris Alauma as a realist who acknowledged that some regions, like Kanem, would have to remain autonomous or semi-autonomous. His active military campaigns, suppression of insecurity, and ongoing commitment to Islamic standards of legitimacy and a dynastic right to rule as a Sayfawa promoted the administration's religious, political, and cultural hegemony. In fact, Idris Alauma's reign was the apogee of Borno for Tijani. In a segmented administrative structure ruling a heterogeneous population with ecological diversity, Idris Alauma promoted a robust central government whilst being politically realist. The state responded to the peripheries, provided protection, pacified the Sau, yet acknowledged the need to leave Mandara and Kanem as autonomous vassals.

After Idris Alauma, Tijani traced the development of greater dichotomies between center and periphery. Although the aforementioned autonomous provinces like Kanem under the Bulala sultans were understandably not integrated into the central administration of Gazargamo, subsequent maiwa accelerated the problem. As a result, multiple new frontier polities were promoted or created as vassals and buffers for Borno's frontiers, particularly the alifa in Mao (Kanem), the Galtima (galadima) of Nguru, the theocratic state of the Koyam shaykh, or Muniyo. Whilst this strategy created a defensive buffer for Borno to protect the territory from raiding activities of nomadic peoples like the Tuareg or Tubu, later Sayfawa administrations were less successful at maintaining close supervisory control of the vassal states. Over time, local chiefs or kings began to decide succession without consulting Gazargamo (which sometimes confirmed their decisions without interfering in the process). As the Sayfawa were less involved in active administration and less invested in conducting military campaigns themselves, they were also less likely to be able to offer adequate protection or support to some of these autonomous or semi-autonomous provinces. Indeed, Tijani accused these later Sayfawa rulers of changing to emphasize far more heavily the Islamic faith as their basis for legitimacy. Certainly, maiwa who engaged in long periods of ritual seclusion, Islamic studies, or lengthy travel abroad to perform the pilgrimage were less likely to be able to effectively or immediately address political concerns directly. Consequently, the administrative system relied on more intermediaries, thereby lengthening the chains in government as the distance between ruler and ruled increased. With this pattern acceleration over time, it very well could have led to poor governance or more corruption and exploitation of the ruled through chima gana or other officials.

As the 17th and 18th centuries progressed, Tijani divided Borno (and its empire) into areas of Sayfawa sovereignty and Sayfawa hegemony. In the former, the Sayfawa state, or central administration, was in direct control. In areas of hegemony, on the other hand, the influence of Borno was often expressed through the cultural and religious stature of the Sayfawa across much of the Central Sudan. This would be areas under the rule of the local dynasties in Marte, Dikwa, Muniyo, Damagaram, Kanem, Gumel, Mandara, Logone, Deya, Gulfe, Ngala, and the galadima. Due to their long history and promotion of Islam, Borno enjoyed a degree of regional hegemony without necessarily possessing administrative structures to integrate autonomous and semi-autonomous principalities. One sees this in Marte, the hometown of Tijani. There the first king, Kadiri Arsomi, was said to have been a brother of Ali Umarmi (Ali b. Umar?) and from the Sayfawa-Maghumi clan. Whilst the genealogy raises more questions, it is significant that the Martema claimed common origin with the Sayfawa dynasty as part of its own local legitimacy. In another case, Dikwa, descent from a maina of Gazargamo is claimed. In the Dikwama case, they also had to contend with non-Muslim Gamergu peoples who offered resistance to Borno. In both cases, these chiefly lineages claimed a common origin with the Sayfawa. But they became more autonomous over time in various matters. Even Logone, which sent "gifts" to Borno, saw these sandi as non-obligatory. They were intended for buying peace and cooperation. Likewise, the other principalities who sent gifts to Gazargamo expected to be reciprocated with even greater gifts. 

Once nomadic and semi-nomadic groups and immigrants to Borno in the Late Sayfawa Period are considered, the inability of the central government to adapt to new conditions became clear. As the Shuwa began to migrate to Borno due to pressures from Wadai and Bagirmi, their local leaders were sometimes able to become the fugu of their respective communities. These Shuwa representatives of the central government often represented their local Shuwa group much more than Gazargamo. It did not help that, per Tijani, maiwa after Idris Alauma did not sustain the goodwill of the Shuwa Arabs. Hence, the Shuwa groups who were in Borno in the 1700s were not particularly close to the government. As cattle herders eager to avoid raids and excessive taxation, they needed to court advantageous relationships with governments and local farmers. In the case of Borno, however, the mid-1700s actually witnessed a local war over Kabela. Initially held by the Fulata, the Shuwa seized it for three years, eventually losing it to the Fulata. Unfortunately, Tijani did not provide a clear indication of how the Sayfawa government responded to this conflict between two nomadic groups. Clearly, it shows tensions over resources. The Fulani Wodabe and Bororo'en groups were often under the authority of the galadima based in Nguru while others were under the authority of Deya, one of the vassal polities. They too had a strained relationship with Gazargamo that the burgeoning parasitism of the central bureaucracy could not address. Subject to expropriation or conflicts with other groups in Borno, the Shuwa, Fulani, and others sought to better their situation. Therefore, it is not surprising that these two groups came to play a large role in the events of the 19th century, albeit on opposing sides. One could add the Kanembu migrants to Borno in this category as well.

In order to further buttress his view of the bloated administration of the later Sayfawa maiwa, Tijani heavily relied on Muhammad Yanbu. Again, assuming this text is a reliable and authentic view of Sayfawa bureaucracy in the 1700s or early 1800s, it is quite revealing. For example, Tijani believed one reading of Yanbu supports the notion of the Sayfawa relinquishing more power to the wazirs. Much of the first part of Yanbu's text also shows the many types of palace servants, such as the Servants of the Apartment, or the Masters of the Sandals. Besides these, Yanbu's text listed leatherworkers, Masters of the Saddles, Masters of the Horse Armor, Masters of the Stirrups, Masters of the Cushion, and more. The central government even included a Secret Chancery that provided intelligence services and royal guards. Yet the famous chima system is suspiciously absent in Yanbu's text. If anything, Yanbu shows that, to some extent, the Sayfawa had become accustomed to a life of luxury and tranquility in their capital. They may have returned to past customs in government appointments which were so costly to their forebears. According to Yanbu, "Each of them deploys the army, which follows him, and no one is appointed to this rank other than sons or other relatives of the king" (300). This claim, which Tijani believed served as evidence of the Sayfawa appointing their close relatives as kaigama, was a step backwards. Yanbu is even cited for further Sayfawa disengagement with military matters since there was a "king's substitute" who took the place of the mai in battle. 

Of course, Yanbu's text may not be reliable on all these matters as the kaigama mentioned in Borno traditions during the reign of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama did not appear to be a Sayfawa descendant. Nor could one say Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama did not risk his life in military ventures. After all, Landeroin's report on Koyam traditions recorded him receiving an arrow wound in the battle with Mandara (not to mention the Mandara kirgam mentioning the mai fleeing for his life on horseback as Wandala soldiers pursued him). For similar reasons, readers may take issue with Tijani's views on the reign of Ali b. Umar (c. 1639-1677). To Tijani, Ali b. Umar's numerous trips to the East led to Kashim Biri's revolt and the development of overly powerful officials. This included Tuareg attacks that reached Gazargamo. But not mentioned here was the context in which a faction in Borno invited Agadez to send troops. And even as Ali b. Umar took five pilgrimages, his reign is often portrayed in the academic literature as Borno at its zenith.

Mandara's war with Borno in the 18th century is another problem for analysis. Tijani heavily relied on the biased Mandara kirgam written several years after the event. Since a copy of the chronicle was found for him by a notable in Borno, Tijani assumed that the text was taken seriously as an accurate chronicle by Borno ulama. That leap in reasoning may be valid, but without taking into account local Borno texts mentioning Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama's war with Mandara, Tijani made the mistake of relying too much on a single source. The incredibly biased kirgam written decades after the event it described must be treated with greater caution. Consulting local Arabic texts from Borno that were written during the reign of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama would have provided the necessary balance to evaluate what triggered the war. 

Finally, readers may question Tijani's stark views. Even Heinrich Barth saw in Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama a mai who was active on multiple fronts. It is too hasty to dismiss the later Sayfawa mais of the 1600s and 1700s as being dedicated to Islamic piety or scholarship and removing themselves from practical considerations of governance. Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama is an illustrative case. Not only was he active against Mandara, but he also sought to defend the frontier from Tuareg raiders and support those buffer states. Other 18th century mai may have been active on the frontier with Kano during the 1730s or with groups like the Kurata in Kanem to the east. Without providing empirical examples from the various rulers of the 1600s and 1700s, Tijani ran the risk of sounding like Yves Urvoy, Barth, and past scholars who dismissed these maiwa. 

The remainder of Tijani's study focuses on the effects of the Jihad, the ascent of al-Kanemi, and the return to what he saw as a more centralized administrative structure. The unresolved tensions and political climate for the Fulata led to hostilities in 1799. Bi Abdur, Ardo Lerlima and Ibrahim Zaki led Fulata communities against the galadima, Dunoma of Nguru. Tensions continued, culminating in the 1808 attack on Gazargamo led by Goni Mukhtar. Meanwhile, al-Kanemi, the son of a Kanembu and a Fezzani Arab, had settled in Ngala. Gaining renown as a scholar and due to his own Kanembu background, al-Kanemi was able to cultivate a support base from the Kanembu and Shuwa. Like him, some were migrants to Borno (although Tijani stressed that most in Borno would not have perceived al-Kanemi as a foreigner). Since respected mallams often became a source of leadership and community guidance in times of trouble, it was no surprise that al-Kanemi generated genuine legitimacy among various groups in Borno. His standing led to the defeated Sayfawa requesting his aid in driving the Fulata out of Gazargamo. Despite his success against the Fulata groups, Gazargamo was abandoned and the Sayfawa themselves were internally divided. 

In this period of clear failure on the part of the Sayfawa to respond to the military threat of the jihadists, al-Kanemi began to expand his power base. With a court moved to Ngorno, al-Kanemi received courtiers from the Sayfawa (they later followed him to Kukawa). A part of al-Kanemi's  reforms was to weaken or remove autonomous local rulers. This entailed actions against the galadima, which decreased the area under his administration. Then Marte, Mintar, Ngala and others were subjects of al-Kanemi's attention. Part of al-Kanemi's vision here was a desire to more fully integrate the southern parts of Borno into the state. These areas were exposed to threats from Bagirmi, Mandara and Wadai yet contained rich, fertile soils. Through his slave military official, Barka Gana, who was assigned the Kotoko states, Borno's central administration was actively attempting to integrate this region. The shaykh depended on enslaved military officials, his kachellawa, to make this happen. He waged similar campaigns against groups reluctant to recognize his authority, like the "Black Shuwa" in Damaturu or the Manga who revolted in the 1820s. Whilst engaged in these military campaigns to subdue autonomous or rebellious local leadership, al-Kanemi relied on a small Council of State which included prominent individuals tied to the Shuwa and Kanembu.

Undoubtedly, one must ask the following: why did al-Kanemi never remove the Sayfawa or officially usurp the throne? Tijani suggested an answer when he wrote, "The reality perhaps was that the religio-ideological power and authority of the Sayfawa, if not necessarily their political and military power, had developed to cover extensive areas in the Central Sudan" (412). In response to this longstanding ideological power, al-Kanemi, whose source of authority was also partly based in religion, may have chosen to merely act in defense of Sayfawa. Unlike them, he was able to combine military leadership with this religio-ideological authority. After rejecting the rationale for the jihad in his correspondence with Sokoto leaders and defending the Islamic legitimacy of Borno's government (though still imperfect), it is not surprising al-Kanemi was never interested in eradicating or replacing them with a new dynasty. 

Nonetheless, more skeptical or pessimistic readers may take issue with this period of transition. While Louis Brenner may have overemphasized the personal ambition and court politics as a factor, it is probable that al-Kanemi intervened in Sayfawa succession disputes to his own advantage. To what extent he played a role in the deposition of Muhammad Ngileruma should be explored. It is possible al-Kanemi merely sought to become the delegated authority of the Sayfawa in administration while the ancient dynasty retained its Islamic and historical symbolic power. In other words, al-Kanemi may have wanted to occupy a position similar to the shogunates of Japan who wielded effective power on behalf of the imperial family. Due to their political longevity and renown across much of the Central Sudan, it was better to keep them, even as figureheads, than to remove them outright. When viewed through this lens, al-Kanemi likely was driven by personal ambition. Yet it was ultimately based on restoring and defending Borno as a centralized state and in a position of prominence within the Central Sudan and Islamic worlds. Indeed, completely replacing the Sayfawa would have been tantamount to admitting the legitimacy of the jihadist critiques of Borno. 

Despite our issues with Tijani's work, it remains a significant work. Attempting to use a grand theory with enough nuance to elucidate the longevity of the Sayfawa, Tijani faced a number of problems. First, the lack of field research in Kanem weakened his analysis. Although there probably would have been insurmountable obstacles to researching medieval Kanem in the 1970s based on oral tradition, the lack of that perspective leaves the early chapter without the same level of evidentiary basis. The later chapters, on the Borno phase, are much richer. Closer in time to the present and with the benefit of oral traditions as well as more written sources, Tijani can trace the waxing and waning of the Sayfawa from the 1400s to 1808. The main problem is the falling back on generalizations or certain assumptions about the structure without close scrutiny of the maiwa of the 1600s and 1700s. The lack of nuance on certain reigns, like that of Ali b. Umar or Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama, hinders the author's point about the Sayfawa emphasizing their religious or Islamic claims to legitimacy and hegemony. Lastly, the reliance on what were translations of Arabic manuscripts and French sources created another problem for the author's use of this material. Without being able to read Arabic, he faced limitations in terms of close textual analysis, source criticism, and the question of authenticity. Unable to use French placed additional obstacles for accessing more source materials on Kanem, Kawar, the Manga, Bagirmi, Wadai, and Agadez. Fortunately, Tijani's local connections, Kanuri fluency, and travels across Borno did allow for some balance of written and oral sources. This did allow for more of the required nuance in elucidating the areas of Sayfawa sovereignty versus Sayfawa hegemony and the Mai Mbauji

Monday, January 26, 2026

Kukawa: Twin Cities Capital of Borno

Nachtigal's plan of Kuka in Sahara and Sudan.

            The history of Borno’s 19th century al-Kanemy dynasty, Kukawa, inherited many traits of past Kanuri and Kanembu capitals. First established in 1814 by the first shaykh, Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi, Kukawa survived as a political capital until the conquest by Rabeh in 1893. Despite an attempt to revive the city as British Borno, it was replaced by Maiduguri. In spite of its brevity as Borno’s political center, Kukawa’s past is illustrative of certain trends in Kanem and Borno urbanization. Moreover, detailed descriptions of Kukawa can be found in the various works by Europeans who traveled to Kukawa during the 1820s, 1850s, 1870s and 1890s. With this more abundant material describing the city, a closer look at Kukawa’s past is in order to see how the al-Kanemi dynasty continued the tradition of urbanization.

            First, the origins. Louis Brenner, author of a major study of the al-Kanemi dynasty, collected oral traditions of Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi conflicting with the people of Ngornu. This town, whose praise singers allegedly did not include al-Kanemi in their songs, may have had tensions with al-Kanemi.[1] By this time, Birni Gazargamo had already been abandoned due to conflict with forces claiming adherence to Uthman dan Fodio’s jihad. Furthermore, the Sayfawa, still holding much symbolic power, were based at Birni Kabela. Since al-Kanemi did not desire to completely supplant the role of the Sayfawa, he let them be as figureheads who still retained many followers in their own court. But al-Kanemi, in need of his own political center, established Kuka, or Kukawa, in c. 1814. This settlement, the original Kukawa, was what was later known as the western town after 1846, when the town had been attacked by Wadai.

Plan in the 1820s in Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824.

Much of the early history of Kukawa must have involved the Shehu’s closest followers also establishing themselves in the city, particularly his Shuwa and Kanembu allies and inner circle. But over time, even the Shehu’s court began to resemble the court of the Sayfawa. According to Brenner, the Sayfawa even sent courtiers to Kukawa, where the system of seating by rank or precedence was adopted from the court of the mai.[2] More direct testimony of the town of Kukawa in the 1820s can be found in the writings of Denham and Clapperton, British travelers to Borno. According to Denham, the main market of the town was in front of one of the principal gates, attracting at least 15,000 people. In addition, wrestling was one attraction for spectators in the town.[3] But at this time, Ngornu was the most populous town in Borno and the major market town. Said to have contained at least 30,000 inhabitants, one is left with the impression that Kukawa was not designed to be a major center for trade by al-Kanemi.[4] Instead, Kukawa was envisioned mainly as a political center with Ngornu as an economic capital. Meanwhile, the Sayfawa figureheads retained their own large court at Birni Kabela. It is very likely that before Shehu Umar’s son extinguished the last mai in 1846, the courtiers of the old dynasty were still not entirely convinced to permanently shift their allegiance to the Shehu.

Barth's plan of Kukawa in Travels and discoveries in North and Central Africa.

            Fortunately, some description of life in the capital in the 1820s can be found in the reports of the British visitors. For instance, al-Kanemi was motivated by a desire to control the moral behavior of women in the capital. Thus, when he ordered harsh punishment for 60 women of poor repute, in which 5 were hanged and 4 flogged, many “Bornouse” (Kanuri?) left the city. Indeed, supposedly more than 100 families left Kuka in disgust at al-Kanemi’s diabolical public punishment.[5] Besides the possible unpopularity of the Shehu’s public policy with regards to women and morality, there may have been ethnic tensions in early Kukawa, too. For example, Nicholas Said, who was, admittedly, born in a later period, recalled the divisions of Kukawa’s Kanuri, Shuwa, and Kanembu population. To Said, the Kanouri formed the ruling caste who occasionally mistreated or seized goods of the Shuwa and Kanembu.[6] Additionally, the map of the town produced by the 1820s British mission showed the city’s division into ethnic quarters, one each assigned to the Bornouese (Kanuri), Kanembu and Shuwa. Perhaps by the time of Nicholas Said’s youth, the elite from the old Sayfawa dynasty had been more thoroughly integrated into the al-Kanemi court. A possible example of this may be the family of the alkali of Kukawa, who at the time of Migeod’s visit was the grandson of Liman Yusufu of Gazargamo.[7] Either way, the possibility of ethnic tensions, especially in the early years of Kukawa, necessitated ethnic quarters. Perhaps Tripolitanian Arabs and Tubu were also assigned their own sections in the city, too.


Sketch of the dendal in Barth's Travels and discoveries in North and Central Africa.

            Unfortunately, not much else is known about these early decades of Kukawa’s history until the death of al-Kanemi in c. 1837. Reports of an attack on the town from Bagirmi’s king, Burkomanda, indicate it must have been rebuilt at least once before the 1846 attack.[8] It is very likely that, with the consolidation of al-Kanemi’s rule and the decay of the Sayfawa, more of Borno’s old elite began to increasingly look to al-Kanemi as the real and legitimate authority. This likely attracted even more residents as it became clear to all that al-Kanemi’s power was not waning. With more people, Kuka may have also begun to attract more commerce, gradually becoming a major center for regional and trans-Saharan trade in Borno. Consequently, by the end of al-Kanemi’s life, his administration had survived a number of challenges: an attempt by the Sayfawa to retake power with the aid of Bagirmi, the Manga rebellion, attacks from the west and tensions with Sokoto, and even charismatic shaykhs who he saw as threats to his power. Undoubtedly, Kukawa must have grown with new people eager for titles or fiefs from the most powerful person in Borno.

            Moving into the reign of Shehu Umar, al-Kanemi’s son, even more detailed descriptions of Kukawa can be found. Unfortunately, Shehu Umar was seen as lethargic and less accomplished than his father. Nonetheless, Kukawa continued to grow. It was during his reign that the capital became two towns. After a final attempt by the Sayfawa to oust the al-Kanemi dynasty with the help of Wadai, Kukawa was pillaged again. Thus, after 1846, construction began on the eastern town. The capital was significantly expanded as the old city, the western town, was used for non-titled nobility, commoners, and North African merchants.[9] The area in between the two parts was called Gumzi-gini that was about ¼ of a mile.[10] The old, western town, or Bula-pute, was said to have been about 1 mile long each way before the capital was rebuilt.[11] The distance between the part of the western town where Rohlfs stayed in the 1860s to the Shehu’s palace in the eastern town took an hour to walk.[12]


Gustav Nachtigal's view of the dendal in Sahara and Sudan.

Nicholas Said, who recalled seeing Heinrich Barth during the latter’s visit to Kukawa, believed the town, which was enclosed by a clay wall 30 feet high, had at least 40,000 people. During the dry season, this population more than doubled to over 100,000.[13] Even the palace grounds of Shehu Umar in the eastern town were vast. One of them was said to have been larger than the town of Bilma in Kawar.[14] Barth, on the other hand, was surprised by the large extent of the double town.[15] During his time in the capital, he moved to a clay house in the western town, billa futeba, which contained small rooms and a yard. The eastern town was separated from the western one by a space about half a mile broad, also densely inhabited.[16] Yet compared with the bustle of Kano and towns in Hausaland, Barth believed that the town only had one dyeing yard.[17] Moreover, political turmoil in 1853-1854 struck as Shehu Umar was deposed by his brother, who briefly reigned until September 1854.[18] In spite of Shehu Umar’s lack of his father’s ability, Kukawa significantly expanded during his reign. Ties with North Africa continued as well, with the Ottoman authorities in Tripoli appointing Sharif Barkan as their resident in 1854-1869.[19] A few Christians were even living in Kukawa, the Lanzon Maltese family.[20]

Perhaps it was the visit of Gustav Nachtigal in the 1870s that produced the most comprehensive description of Kukawa. Nachtigal was able to see the eastern town, western town, and the various hamlets on the northern side which likely cultivated grain that fed the city. According to Nachtigal, Kuka was more than 2 kilometers from east to west and a little less than this from north to south. Confusingly, Nachtigal also wrote that Kukawa stretched, at its furthest east and west points, to more than ½ a German mile.[21] Its weekly market every Monday was held outside the western’s town’s western gate. The dendal, or major avenue, had earthen houses on either side. As one might expect for an old Kanuri city, the western town had few regular streets, like Birni Gazargamo. Moreover, the space between the eastern and western towns was more than 1 kilometer wide. Further, the eastern town, Billa gedibe, was longer and narrower than the western town but had a wider dendal that ended right at the palace and main mosque.[22] In terms of housing, the eastern town had more earthen houses than the western town, and they were similar to homes in the Fezzan but with smaller living spaces and bigger courtyards.[23] In the western town, more houses built of straw or reed, ngim, could be found. Of course, the western town was also where 2/3 of the population lived. Since Nachtigal estimated the total population at 50,00-60,00, the western town may have had as many as 40,000 residents.

Nachtigal's courtyard in Kukawa.

Public life was centered on the dendal. Nachtigal wrote, “Rides along this main thoroughfare were always of novel and enthralling interest for me, revealing a life of such variety and even splendour as a European can scarcely associate with the idea of a Negro town.”[24] Although it would become littered with many little lakes during the rainy season, the dendal was the center of life for the city. In addition, Nachtigal described aspects of the various social classes in the capital. For example, well-to-do free people often wore multiple garments as a sign of their wealth. Thus, wearing 2-4 garments showing off fine clothes and riding horses were signals of wealth and status.[25] The rich also lived in larger homes with flower and vegetable gardens.[26] Descendants of the old aristocracy of Borno were very much present, with the men carrying the mbare scepter.[27] Elite men also enjoyed giving audiences to their clients, slaves and servants.[28] Nachtigal also witnessed the influential Fezzani, Muhammad el Titiwi, who acted as a consul for North Africans in Kukawa.[29] Perhaps unsurprisingly, Shehu Umar also welcomed and gave gifts to foreign sharif visitors to Kukawa just as adventurers and pilgrims passed through Kukawa.[30] Besides the North African traders and local elites, Nachtigal also saw evidence of the artisans and laboring masses. Unlike Barth, he noticed signs of the division of labor and specialized artisans, with professional standards in the capital. Women were very much involved in the city’s economic life as vendors while those who dealt in horses, fish, cloth, leather, natron, salt, and other products sold their wares in the city. Young people also gathered at night to sing and dance while the streets were full of blind beggars and mendicant students.[31] But once one left the dendal, streets usually had less traffic and more crooked paths and modest homes were visible.

Outside Kukawa in De Saint-Louis à Tripoli par le Lac Tchad: Voyage au travers du Soudan et du Sahara.

As one moves into the last two decades of Kukawa’s history before the fall, sources are less detailed. An article describing the city in 1883 by Lt. Massari mentioned European merchandise for sale via Tripoli and ostrich feathers as a major export. However, Massari also described a city in which pleasure, amusement, singing, and dancing were the characteristics of its residents. Thus, it was common for bands of young girls to walk the streets while singing and clapping their hands.[32] This perspective of Europeans on the relative freedom of women in Kukawa was similarly noted by Monteil, who saw the city on the eve of its destruction.[33] In spite of the city’s joyful spirit, the 1880s also included a period of pestilence or disease, Wuromaram, which killed many people.[34] As the ruling dynasty declined in the years leading to Rabeh’s invasion and conquest of Borno, Kukawa probably declined as well. Certainly, the excessive taxation of the Shehus and their inability to defend trans-Saharan routes were symptoms of this period of decline. Finally, by 1893 (although some say 1894), Rabih was able to pillage Kukawa itself. According to one Mallam Aba asked about the event in 1895, the carnage of Rabih’s conquest of Kukawa lasted for 2 days, with 3,100 skulls counted by the end.[35]


Plan of Nachtigal's home in Kukawa.

With the fall of Rabih’s state and the coming of European colonialism, Kukawa was considered by the British to become the capital of Borno. However, those plans failed as Maiduguri was chosen instead. Despite this, Kukawa serves as an example of Kanuri urbanism under a non-Sayfawa dynasty. The city maintained many past traditions, such as the prominence of the dendal and mosques near the royal palace. The city’s daily and weekly markets were also probably organized along similar lines to what existed in Birni Gazargamo. Indeed, the various trades and crafts in the city appear to have been organized in this way. As the al-Kanemi dynasty borrowed more titles and styles of the Sayfawa court, one can imagine this also shaped the development of the capital’s neighborhoods or quarters in similar ways. However, Kukawa took this one step further by expanding to include an eastern town primarily associated with the Shehu’s court and high dignitaries. This spatial separation from the masses of the population is similar to the use of fired-brick walls and structures in Gazargamo, but Gazargamo’s royal complex was close to the center of that vast metropolis. Without fired-brick (except for the tombs of the Shehus), Kukawa’s elite built a separate eastern town that still marked their distinction from the rest of society spatially. In many respects, Kukawa inherited the older traditions of Gazargamo with 19th century changes and modifications as the new dynasty rose and fell.



[1] Louis Brenner, The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu, 47.

[2] Ibid., 61.

[3] Denham, Dixon, Hugh Clapperton, and Walter Oudney. Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824, 93, 273.

[4] Ibid., 108-109.

[5] Denham, Dixon, Hugh Clapperton, and Walter Oudney. Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824 Vol. 2, page 79-80.

[6] Nicholas Said, The Autobigraphy of Nicholas Said: A Native of Bornou, Eastern Soudan, Central Africa, 14.

[7] Frederick William Hugh Migeod, Through Nigeria to Lake Chad, 179.

[8] Landeroin, “Notice historique” in Documents scientifiques de la Mission Tilho, page 361.

[9] Louis Brenner, The Shehus of Kukawa, p. 70.

[10] Migeod, Through Nigeria to Lake Chad, 173.

[11] Ibid., 172.

[12] Frauke Jager, “Maiduguri—Twentieth Century Capital with Ancient Roots,” in From Bulamari to Yerwa to Metropolitan Maiduguri, 27.

[13] Nicholas Said, The Autobiography, 13.

[14] Ibid., 26.

[15] Heinrich Barth, Travels and Discoveries (1890), p. 354.

[16] Ibid., 376-377, 379.

[17] Ibid., 385.

[18] Brenner, The Shehus of Kukawa, 79.

[19] Rémi Dewière, “Borno in the Ottoman Archives,” 156.

[20] Raymond Hickey, “Filippo da Segni’s Journey from Tripoli to Kukawa in 1850,” 153.

[21] Gustav Nachtigal, Sahara and Sudan Vol. 2, 162.

[22] Ibid., 148-149.

[23] Ibid., 149-150.

[24] Ibid., 155.

[25] Ibid., 157.

[26] Ibid., 152.

[27] Ibid., 157.

[28] Ibid., 160.

[29] Gustav Nachtigal, Sahara and Sudan Vol. 4, 11.

[30] Gustav Nachtigal, Sahara and Sudan Vol. 2, 174.

[31] Ibid., 159-160.

[32] Lieutenant Massari, “La traversée de l’Afrique de la mer Rouge au golfe de Guinée, article in Bull. de la Soc. belge de géographie (1883), 868.

[33] Monteil, De Saint-Louis à Tripoli par le Lac Tchad: Voyage au travers du Soudan et du Sahara, 355.

[34] Kyari Mohammed, Borno in the Rabih Years, 1893-1901: The Rise and Crash of a Predatory State, 24.

[35] H.R. Palmer, Gazetteer of Bornu Province, 109.