Edwige's Notes on the Melfi Subdivision

Ch. Edwige's "Notes sur la subdivision de Melfi" is a report from the 1920s based largely on oral traditions. While certainly aware of earlier works on Bagirmi's history, such as Nachtigal, Edwige's list of Bagirmi kings before the 19th century is much shorter. Perhaps due to the nature of his informants in Melfi, which included Sokoro, Kenga, and Dekakire, much of Bagirmi's pre-1800s past was not retained in local traditions. Exceptions, of course, could be found. For instance, the chiefly lineage of the n'gares of the Sokoros claimed to know the names of about 13 different chiefs. Besides this family lineage which inherited a position, the heterogeneous population of Muslims and non-Muslims provides fewer instances of this type of well-established genealogy. 

Despite the obvious errors and incomplete nature of Edwige's list of Bagirmi kings, it is nonetheless a possible opportunity to explore how traditions from this area of the kingdom perceived their distant past. In some ways, it follows the general narrative with occasional omissions or what may be legendary traits added to the tradition. Take Dalou-Birni, for example. Clearly identifiable with Nachtigal's Dalobirni, who reigned in the 17th century, he is also meant to be Birni Besse, one of the founding figures of Bagirmi's royal dynasty. Edwige's informants added extra details. First, according to Edwige, Dalu was of Arab origin from the Kuraysh (though it is telling that his brothers included one named Kenga, perhaps an admission of the shared roots of the Barma and Kenga). This Middle Eastern origin story is hardly surprising. But Edwige also shared a more narratively rich background for Dalou-Birni, whose accentuated color sparked the feeling from his father that his mother had committed adultery. Perhaps this is an attempt to explain the darker skin of Dalou-Birni despite his Arab father. After his father threw the infant Dalou-Birni into a fire and he miraculously survived, his father gifted his mother 100 cows. This is an attempt to link the etymology of the toponym Bagirmi with the words "Bagara mia!" that his mother shouted after the gift. 

Later on, upon arriving in Bagirmi, Dalou-Birni attracted followers through his skills as a hunter. However, a local ruler of the Bidili (Bideri?), which included locals already in the region such as the Birkete, was forced to pay a tribute to the Bulala sultan of Fitri, Saboun (is this tradition remembering Wadai's Saboun, who invaded Bagirmi in the early 1800s?). Since the tradition also turns the Bulala rulers into tributaries of Wadai, one must suspect we are dealing with anachronisms. After all, if one uses the conventional dating for Dalou-Birni and early Bagirmi, the 16th century, there was no Wadai. Indeed, the Bulala sultans would have been based in Kanem in the early 1500s. Unless one wishes to follow Carbou's theory, which would turn the Fitri-based kingdom which imposed tribute on Bagirmi into the Kuka kingdom, what exactly was going on in the area that became the center of Bagirmi's royal dynasty remains unclear. A connection to the Bulala sultans, however, may make more sense given their reference to Bagirmi in the context of a Bulala sultan in the 1500s by Ahmad b. Furtu. 

Regardless, Dalou-Birni's success at hunting and sharing of the meat continued to attract followers. Meanwhile, he also began preparations for ending the payment of tribute to Bagirmi. Dalou-Birni prepared the revolt by secretly preparing shields and spears to use against Saboun. When 30 horsemen were sent by the Bulala to collect the tribute (in strips of cloth and clothes), Dalou-Birni and 100 of his followers attacked and killed most of them. Unsurprisingly, Saboun later sent 300 horsemen to plunder the herds of the Arabs and Fulani in Bagirmi. Once again, Dalou-Birni defeated these forces and became king upon his return to Massenya. As king, he imposed tribute in horses to strengthen the army and gather the tribute in strips of cloth. It seems unlikely that he would not have engaged in any slave raiding, but supposedly he avoided it.

Unfortunately, the list of subsequent kings by Edwige omitted so many names that it would only go back as far as c. 1660 instead of the early 1500s. This meant that for Edwige, Dalou Birni must have lived in the 1600s whilst his successors only included Allah Hadji I, Laouan, Allah Hadji II, Gaourang I Kabir, Bourkou-Manda-Kabi, Abd-el-Kader, Mohamed Abssakin, Bourkou-Manda and Gaourang II. A few of these names are instantly recognizable, although others are less so (Allah Hadji). His informants may have telescoped many kings from the period before the 19th century. One sees this through Allah Hadji I's reign, who is presumably based on Abd Allah (r. 1568-1608 by Nachtigal's reckoning). However, this Allah-Hadji I of Edwige appears to be a composite figure combining a number of different Bagirmi kings and their exploits. Thus, Allah-Hadji I was said to have begun to attack the Massa, but also attacked the Saroua, Boua, Logone, and imposed vassal status on Logone, Kousseri and Goulfei. Through a successful siege of the town of Mahamat, the Kotoko king, these aforementioned Kotoko towns became vassals of Bagirmi.

The next named king, Laouan, easily recognizable as Loen or Loel, would have reigned in c. 1741-1751. Like Loel, this Laouan was killed and replaced by his younger brother. Although not named correctly, this brother was Muhammad al-Amin, whose reign Nachtigal placed from c. 1751-1785. Here is where traditions become interesting for Hadji. This mbang was living in exile in a place called Sounar. Presumably, Sounar is what Edwige's informants thought to be the city of Sennar to the distant east. However, tradition here has turned Muhammad al-Amin's life in the Eastern Sudan into one of becoming a local dyer in a village and marrying the chief's daughter. Details also diverge on the tale of his return. Since his "brother" Laouan was so oppressive, one of his musicians sought Allah-Hadji (Muhammad al-Amin), working together with him to return to Bagirmi and seize the throne. Needless to say, this version is quite distinct from Nachtigal's retelling, although it follows the same basic sequence. Indeed, Allah-Hadji uses Moito as a base and then defeats Laouan at Sado before becoming ruler of Bagirmi.

Additional problems can be found. Unlike Nachtigal, whose informants stressed the cruelty of Muhammad al-Amin and his numerous military expeditions, Allah-Hadji II was liked by his subjects and nothing else stood out from his reign. A similar problem emerges with the reign of Gaourang-Kabir, the son of Muhammad al-Amin. Absolutely no mention is made of the Wadai invasion launched by Saboun or any of the military ventures of these rulers. 

Clearly, Edwige's recounting of Bagirmi history before the 19th century is very flawed. But the specific area he collected information in may have played a role. Despite these aforementioned issues, his article nonetheless raises new questions about how the Bagirmi mbangs were remembered in different parts of the kingdom. Nachtigal, who was able to collect information from political elites tied to the court of the mbang, could access a more controlled royal genealogy in somewhat informal settings. Edwige, on the other hand, may have heard a less official version which, in spite of its omissions, still coherently overlapped with parts of the "official" version Nachtigal heard from elite informants. 

Speculating on L'Empire de Ghana: le Wagadou et les traditions de Yéréré

Although we must revisit this work and engage in a deeper reading of the different recorded versions of Soninke oral traditions on Wagadu, Germaine Dieterlen's L'Empire de Ghana: le Wagadou et les traditions de Yéréré raises a number of intriguing questions about the extent we can reconstruct this distant past. Beginning with a translation of Diarra Sylla's rendition of this past as a gessere, Dieterlen then provides additional context and attempts a wider analysis of the ancient empire of Ghana (Wagadu). To some extent, she drew on the ethnographic present as well as cultural practices and rites among the Bambara, Dogon, and other West African peoples. This makes her interpretation of the institutions, social structure, and culture of Wagadu necessarily speculative.

In spite of some of these pitfalls in researching a period in pre-colonial West African history that is only partly covered in external Arabic sources, Dieterlen confirmed some of our own past theories. For instance, a cult of sorts to the vulture and hyena was part of the Soninke ritual calendar. According to Dieterlen, on the second moon of the Soninke's calendar, the wage (noble clans) gathered with their gessere to offer sacrifices to the hyena, an animal tied to their oath to Kaya Maga. Remember, the hyena played a role in assisting Diabe in Soninke tradition. There was also a special regard for the fox, it being a taboo for wage to kill this particular animal. Even the dog was the subject of taboos for the wage. For instance, they were not allowed to marry people who ate or sacrificed dogs, presumably due to the dog that accompanied the legendary ancestor, Dinga. One cannot help but wonder if the dogs with collars of gold and fine jewelry in the palace of the Ghana kings was in memory of this? Unsurprisingly, al-Bakri was likely ignorant of this, but informants told him of the palace dogs with richly decorated collars.

Besides these aforementioned taboos, Dieterlen offered some additional information on Kumbi and the Wagadu kingdom. Presumably based on her informant, she reported that Kumbi, the capital, had fifty-one quarters. Koumbi Saleh was allegedly the quarter for the market associated with caravan trade. The imperial quarter was supposedly called Kalaata, presumably the al-Ghaba of al-Bakri. There was even a quarter or section associated with the gessere. A glimpse of the different social classes or ranks in Wagadu can be seen in the description of four types of royal drums. Essentially, the major groups were the nobles, clan chiefs, slaves, and the people (commoners?). A distinct drum was used to call each of these types of residents in the capital city. Although it is difficult to see where the number of fifty-one quarters or neighborhoods came from, the number is probably meant to be symbolic or merely to suggest a huge concentration of people living within a larger capital district. That is very likely to have been true, as al-Bakri's description of the capital as two cities, one for Muslims and another for the king, with continuous habitations between, fits this.

In terms of the administration of the state, Dieterlen provided additional clues. The Koussa, for instance, participated in collecting gold for the king. Other Koussa were Koussa Tounkara, who assisted in organizing official ceremonies for the rulers of Wagadu. Another role attached to spiritual powers like access to ancestors through trance and the fabrication of ritual objects began with Djourou Tandjigo, an artisan in the times of Diabe. In addition, there were fade and hida, the governors or chiefs of provinces within Wagadu. Dumbe and djuwara were said to have been generals or military leaders. The Cisse clan which allegedly produced the most kings. A number of wage or noble clans were tied to specific provinces or regions, such as a figure remembered as Diamera Sokona, son of a fade named Birama, at Nakhata (interestingly, this figure was also said to have been the first to offer a woman to the Bida snake). Supposedly, control of territories included administration of land, markets, livestock, hunting grounds, and water sources, meaning these administrators had a lot of power over the areas under their remit. As for the military chiefs, Dieterlen suggested that these were the nana, a word possibly distorted in Arabic sources as Ghana.

But what of the known history of Wagadu as a state? Or its dynastic genealogy? Here contradictions abound as different versions of oral traditions disagree on details. Dieterlen presented Wagadu as dominated by the Cisse, beginning with Diabe as the first king based at Koumbi. Inexplicably, there were thirty-three of these Cisse kings before a member of the Toure clan became the 34th king. The Toure, who were associated with the power to control water, seized the kingdom with Moudou Toure at the head. A Muslim, Moudou Toure enjoyed support from some of the local Kakolo clans and Diane and Koma clans. Elsewhere, it is claimed that Madyou Toure was the last to reign, though it is unclear what his relationship was to Moudou Toure. Prior to this, one of the 5 Cisse clans apparently dominated rulership, the Kharesi. But the switch to the Toure may have led to a change in capitals and greater Islamization as the first Muslim kings (in the late 11th century, according to Arabic sources). One may interpret this as the rise to prominence of an Islamic noble clan in Wagadu, evidence of which can be found in external Arabic sources on Wagadu in the 1100s and 1200s. Even Zafun allegedly entered the picture, where the older brother of Diabe left when Diabe succeeded Dinga. This Cisse brother married a woman of the Dyafone clan of Dyafounou, suggesting links between Zafun and Wagadu began early in Ghana's history.

However, a looming question remains. Can one reconcile Dieterlen's reconstruction of the kingdom's past with other sources? Her text includes a few other variants of the Soninke tale of Kumbi and the dispersal from Wagadu after the killing of Bida. Some of these other sources provide a different king list for Wagadu. One named the Wagadu kings as Khaya Makha Sise, Wakane Sakho, Damera Sokhna, Gumane Fade, Sero Khumma (all brothers of Diabe, the first king). Then leadership passed to the family of D'ariso, beginning a new line of kings: Kambine, Suleyman, Bannabubu, Wagadu Makha II, Gane, Musa, Biramu, and then a disastrous civil war. Needless to say, some of the people considered kings here were supposedly noble governors or warrior leaders in Sylla and Dieterlen's version of events. We also wonder about Biramu, a name which sounds close to Birama. But once the D'ariso lineage succeeded, one notes father to son inheritance (6 generations) and the appearance of Islamic names. If the civil war which followed the reign of Biramu, among his own sons no less, involved a warrior from D'ara in Tiraka, then this could have been the moment of an Islamic faction seizing the throne. Tiraka, after all, had been an important center for trade to Ghana, Tadmakka, and other groups, with a Wangara population also there attested by some external Arabic sources. This raises the legitimate question of how to interpret the dynastic and/or religious change in Wagadu's leadership in the 11th century. It is tempting to see traditions of a Toure clan Muslim becoming king with the support of some elements within the kingdom (and possible support from the Almoravids).

Ultimately, Dieterlen's book raises more questions than it can possibly answer. Yet the connections she makes to other West African cultures and the Soninke ethnographic present can give the reader new ways to think about the history of pre-Islamic Wagadu. The clear role of the "traditional" religion as the legitimizing ideology behind kingship and the worldview of the people, as well as the strong role played by lineage in creating and distributing hierarchies, rank, and identities is worth exploring.

Looking for Borno in Aïr Traditions

Whilst perusing  Documents Nigériens: Tome I, l'Aïr edited in French by Boubou Hama in the late 1960s, we came across references to Borno multiple times. Unfortunately, the corpus of oral traditions collected here are often of a very vague nature. Indeed, when recounting the history of the sultans of Agadez, informants appeared to be making composite figures of various sultans without any clear chronological precision. With these limitations, it is sadly difficult to use these traditions to better contextualize the relations between the Tuareg of Asben and Borno.

Nonetheless, some of the traditions do affirm a period of Bornoan hegemony of Aïr. For instance, one elder reputed to be over 100 years old, reported that that the people of the region had to pay tribute to the people of Borno annually. Part of this tribute consisted of animals (cattle?), slaves, and sometimes nobles. Since the tribute was too onerous, the Abzinawa decided not to pay it any longer. When Borno's representative came to collect it, the people of Aïr refused. The sultan of Borno, not named, prepared to go to war and came to Aïr with his army. But, the Tuareg had fled to the mountainous caves of Bagzam and withstood the besieging forces of Borno. Through a ruse conceived by a man named Hamed Yahya, the eldest, the Tuareg sent out an old camel stuffed with grains, dates, and water. When the Bornoan forces killed and opened the entrails of the camel, they found it full of provisions. This led the Bornoans to assume the Tuareg had sufficient food and water in their mountainous caves to continue to avoid engaging the king of Borno. Deciding to leave Asben, the Bornoan troops lifted their siege and returned to Koukaoua (Kukawa). Obviously, the reference to Kukawa is an anachronism here since this event is said to have taken place when Agadez was a small village or recently founded. This campaign is probably the ill-fated Bornoan expedition to Asben mentioned in the Kano Chronicle, taking place in the 1400s. 

Another informant cited in the study also referred to the same conflict with Borno. According to an elder named Ousmane ben Elhadj Kemel, the Bornoans collected an annual tribute from the Tuareg of Aïr consisting of a beautiful young girl. The Bornoan envoy was called Aganga (a Kanuri or Bornoan form of this word is not known to us) and was refused the tribute one year. According to tradition, the girl who was supposed to be given in tribute had a brother who refused to accept it. What is distinct about this version of events is that the girl's brother actually killed the Aganga, triggering an invasion from Borno. In addition, this tradition of the conflict mentions 3 camels whose stomachs were filled with ample food, giving the impression to the Bornoan troops waiting out the Tuareg hiding in the caves of Bagzan that their enemies had ample resources. Meanwhile, the Bornoan troops were running out of water and supplies, forced to abandon Aïr soon after. Another distinguishing trait of this tradition is that the Istanbul legend starts here, with the Tuareg sending their dignitaries to find a sultan in Istanbul during the time Borno's sultan was in the region. 

Other references to Borno or areas once affiliated with Borno are more arduous to connect with other sources. For example, one tradition based on information from Mohamed ben Agueb refers to Younoussou and Mohamed Ben Younoussou. The latter is mentioned for having attacking Gobir and forcing its ruler to flee their capital. In 578, a year equivalent to our 1182-3. But the context of this attack on Gobir and the conflict in Bilma are more suggestive of the 1700s. The reference to Fachi and Mohamed Younoussou appointing Ibrahim ben Ahmed as chief of Bilma seem to refer to the period of conflict over Kawar in the mid-1700s. 

Later on, Mohamed ben Younoussou defeated Gobir and went to war with Borno, occupying a Bornoan fortress built on a high hill. This campaign was advised by the Agadez sultan's vizir, Abdallahi ben Youssouf, who actually wanted to weaken the Tuareg. Thus, the troops sent by Agadez to attack Borno found themselves completely encircled by Bornoan warriors, who trapped the Tuareg on the hill. Eventually, Mohamed ben Younoussou was able to escape and reached Haedja, where he fought with a Bornoan leader named Ibrahim. It is possible this Ibrahim was a galadima of Borno sometime in the mid-1700s. By the end of the conflict, the Tuareg were defeated in 608 and forced to flee to Agadez where the Bornoans followed the Tuareg to Talmari, where they were defeated by the Acharifane. Upon his return to Agadez, Mohamed Elbaki was appointed as heir. 

The best we could do for trying to situate the above tale with the known history of Agadez-Borno wars is to suggest the campaign in which the Agadez sultan penetrated deep into Borno and was forced to flee happened during an attack on Gaskerou or Kawar in the middle decades of the 1700s. According to Landeroin, Bornoan forces did attack and pursue the Tuareg in that raid, before ultimaetly fleeing back to Borno.  In Koyam tradition, the place where the pursuing Bornoan army was defeated was not Talmari, although it is possible the Tuareg and Koyam traditions remember the place differently. 

The same source also included Borno or the Beriberi as enemies of Agadez during the reign of Sultan Mohamed "El Fadel," who reigned after the aforementioned Mohamed ben Younoussou. Apparently, the Beriberi and "Baghoussow" had crossed the Niger to provoke the Tuareg of Aïr on their own territory and committed massacres at Tiguida and Ingall before being vanquished by Mohamed El-Fadel. We could not be sure to what extent any Bornoan sources recall this, or if there is confusion on the part of the traditionists.

Traditions on the Origins of Birni Gazargamo

A map by Dierk Lange from A Sudanic Chronicle: The Borno Expeditions of Idris Alauma (1564-1576).

The traditions on the creation of Birni Gazargamo, the capital of the Sayfawa dynasty in Borno established during the reign of Ali b. Dunama (r. 1465-1497), perhaps begun in 1472, provide interesting glimpses of the region at the time of Sayfawa consolidation in Borno. According to oral traditions collected from Borno among the Kanuri and Bade as well as traditions that were recorded in the chronicles of Agadez, the Sao, Bedde, Tuareg and Sayfawa interacted in the choosing of this site for the royal capital. Parsing through the traditions and written sources raises significant questions about the nature of Sayfawa-Sao relations in the 15th century. Furthermore, the possible participation of the Immikitan Tuareg and the Bade in this process is one that becomes increasingly plausible with a thorough examination of the evidence, both textual and oral. In short, the process of the establishment of the royal capital was probably an effort that involved both the Sao, Kanuri, Tuareg, and Bade.

Let's begin with the local Borno traditions. According to traditions collected by Landeroin during the Tilho Mission, Ali b. Dunama attacked the Sao chief at Gambaru (traditions suggest Ali b. Dunama tried to establish a capital there first), where he was later defeated (Landeroin 355). However, the mai was able to obtain permission to settle in the region and trade with the Sao. This tradition suggests the Sayfawa were not strong enough to dislodge the Sao (Sao Gafata?) from the region of Gazargamo, but were able to establish a presence through trade. Another tradition mentions the use of economic entanglements and debts for securing the land. However, the account stresses the abundant merchandise of the Sayfawa and how they were able to purchase land with it, gradually establishing homes with the permission of the Sao leader, Dala Gomami (Landeroin 356). Unfortunately for the Sao leader, he purchased too many goods from the Sayfawa's followers, and being unable to pay the debt, decided to leave the area to the Sayfawa. This was because the Sayfawa planned to use the outstanding debts as a justification for war. Intriguingly, this plan of selling on credit to the Sao chief was supported by his brother, suggesting that conflicts within the Sao political elites created an opening for Sayfawa domination of the future capital, Birni Gazargamo.

Despite the Sao leader leaving the area to those he was indebted to, many Sao remained in the region. Since the followers of the Sayfawa (or Toubbas, as recorded in the traditions by Landeroin) used henna, they tricked the Sao who wanted to imitate this usage of henna into tying up their hands. This facilitated the Sayfawa attack on the remaining Sao, who were defeated and fled. According to tradition, this alleged attack took place in 1452 (Landeroin 357). This would have been during the reign of Ghadji b. Imata, according to Lange's chronology. Naturally, one could ask if the specific year given in the traditions is really reliable, although it is certainly plausible. If taken at face value, one may surmise that the area around Gambaru was first seized during the reign of Ghadji b. Imata, but Ali b. Dunama was the one who finally established the capital on a more permanent basis at Gazargamo. As for military conflicts, the Diwan records multiple Sayfawa rulers who died in conflict with the "Sao" in the 1300s: 

1. 1335-1339: Reign of Salma b. Abdallah of Kanem, died in war with Sao

2. 1339-1340: Reign of Kuri le jeune in Kanem, died in war with Sao

3. 1340-1341: Reign of Kuri le aine (the elder) of Kanem, died in war with Sao

4. 1341-1342: Reign of Muhammad b. Abdallah of Kanem, died in war with Sao

These conflicts took place over a century before the c.1452 victory of the Sayfawa in Gambaru. Of course, one cannot say these conflicts were with the same group of Sao, but it would be interesting if the tradition recorded by Landeroin might be alluding to the same area. If so, the Sayfawa had already had their eyes on the Gambaru region long before the mid-15th century. Only after a century of consolidation, did the final subjugation of the area took place. In fact, if the Diwan is reliable, conflict among claimants to the throne erupted between Uthman b. Kaday and Ali b. Dunama (Lange 79). This likely would have prevented Ali b. Dunama from finally shifting the capital to Birni Gazargamo or at least stalled it. Just like the Sao of the region, divisions between the Idrisid and Dawudid branches of the Sayfawa were probably exploited by others to protect their autonomy or for plunder.

Lending some credence to the traditions cited by Landeroin are the traditions collected by H.R. Palmer. Palmer, who published traditions and manuscripts found in Borno, repeated a very similar story of a ruse involving henna to defeat the Sao. In the second volume of Sudanese Memoirs, Palmer included a narrative entitled "The So Dala N'Gumami." The name of this Sao leader is clearly the same as the Dala Gomami recorded by Landeroin, but Palmer provides the name of his city: Gagi Dibun. In Palmer's version, however, it is unquestionably clear that it was Ali Gaji Zeinami, or Ali b. Dunama, who orchestrated the trick using henna (Palmer 68). A number of other details emerge in Palmer's variant of the tradition. So Dala N'Gumami lived as a friend or ally of the Sayfawa, whereas the version of Landeroin suggests he fled the region or left since he could not pay his debts. Interestingly, there is a reference to the Sao leader going to Kano and the impatience of the Sayfawa to build a mosque (Palmer 67). This would suggest long-standing ties to Kano and some familiarity with Islam on the part of So Dala N'Gumami. Considering the penetration of Islam in Kano by the 1300s and the presence of Muslims from Kanem in Borno by the 1200s, this is not surprising, even if the Sao leadership had no interest in converting to Islam. After all, according to the Diwan, rulers like Dunama Dibalemi were said to have died at Zamtam, an area not too far from the future site of Gazargamo in c.1248. A 14th century mai, Ibrahim b. Bir, was buried at Diskama, a locality perhaps to be identified as Damasak, a Sao Gafata stronghold in the 16th century (Lange 74).

The other traditions recorded by Palmer are difficult to interpret. One of them, "The Bade Tribes" in Sudanese Memoirs, suggests the Bade had followed the Sayfawa from Njimi to Wudi, an earlier capital in Borno. At the same time, Bade were already living in Arege 4 years before the establishment of Gazargamo as the capital. If true, this would suggest the Bade were living near the future capital of Borno by the 1450s or 1460s. Furthermore, the discovery of the site of Gazargamo allegedly took place when residents of Wudi pursued an escaped cheetah and found the area of Gazargamo to be much more fertile and abundant than Wudi (Palmer 86). But what is somewhat remarkable here is a convergence with the traditions recorded by Landeroin about a chief or leader of servile origin appointed by Ali b. Dunama. According to Palmer, three brothers named Makinta Baro, Makinta Yatku and Kaloma Arge were chiefs of an early town called Gamgar. Palmer wrote, "These men were brothers, they came from Wudi to Borno" (Palmer 86). If by Borno the capital is meant, perhaps one of these three men named Makinta was the individual also named Mankinta who served Ali b. Dunama as a leader of servile origin at Wudi (Landeroin 355). If these traditions are correct, some of the Bedde or Bade may have been incorporated into the administration of Borno as administrators of servile origin. The Badi may have already been alluded to as western neighbors of the areas of Borno under Sayfawa rule during the time of Dunama Dibalemi (Hopkins & Levtzion, 187). The Badi also lived on or near the northern shores of Lake Chad and would have been in a position to know of the future site of Gazargamo.

The other group said to have played a role in the eventual site of the Sayfawa capital in Borno are the Amakita Tuareg. The tradition of their presence in Kanem and Borno can be found in the Agades Chronicles as well as Muhammad Bello's account of the region. According to Bello, the Sokoto caliph writing in the early 19th century (probably with access to manuscripts or at least oral traditions from Ayar), the ancestors of the Sayfawa found their "Berber" kinsmen ruling over a group called Amakita in Kanem (Bello, 71-72). In his chapter on Ayar, Bello later lists the Amakita as one of the original five clans in that region (Bello 76). As for the more detailed account found in the Agades Chronicles, Yves Urvoy's translation of Manuscript B includes the full tradition of the Amikitane Tuareg guiding the mai to the site of Birni Gazargamo. According to this source, the tribe of the Sandals (or Amakita) refused to accept the nomination of Ilisaouane as king of Ayar. However, in the ensuing war, they were defeated and the grand part of their population left Ayar. However, after driving out black populations to the south and seizing their lands, the lack of a sultan drove them to migrate to Kanem. Perhaps this is a reference to the original need for a sultan of Ayar in the first place, to restore order or act as a mediator between the Tuareg clans and facilitate trade. It was in Kanem where the Saoutantane tribe of the Amakita eventually guided the mai to the site of Birni Gazargamo. In exchange for a gift, a member of this group promised to guide the sultan of Kanem to the site, which his tribe knew of since they passed the cold season in the area of Birni Gazargamo. The same source also mentions that this tribe had been raided by the sultan of Borno, too. One wonders here if the traditions are recalling moments of civil war between the different branches of the Sayfawa dynasty, with perhaps different times they raided the Tuareg, though tradition recalls Ali b. Dunama raiding Ayar (Landeroin 355). Yet, despite guiding the sultan of Kanem to the site of Birni Gazargamo and allegedly contributing to the construction of the wall, this Tuareg group requested permission to return to Ayar, although agreeing to maintain peace with Borno (Urvoy 158).

How does one make sense of this Tuareg tradition of showing the Sayfawa the site for the capital of Borno? According to Djibo Hamani, the Immikitan Tuareg would have started to leave Ayar sometime after 1429/1430 when Alhaji Alisau became sultan of Ayar and reigned approximately 20 years (Hamani 145). This would mean that the Immikitan likely began an exodus to the south/southeast in the 1430s and 1440s, likely leading to more contact (and perhaps, conflict through raiding) with Borno. If the name "Amakita" is a reference to the amenokal of the Immikitan, the Amiki, then what might be recorded in this tradition is the submission of the Immikitan Tuareg to the Sayfawa dynasty in the 1400s. One also wonders if the "Makinta" and Mankita" remembered in the other traditions could be alluding to the same individual bearing this title. According to Nachtigal's Sahara and Sudan, the title referred to an enslaved person responsible for managing stores of wood, charcoal, dried fish, vegetables, and other crops associated with the palace kitchen. The bearer of the title would have received villages under their control along the Komadugu-Yobe region. A thorough examination of this word in Bade, Kanuri, and Tamasheq languages might clarify the matter, but it does raise some questions about a possible explanation for the similar-sounding words of Amakita, Makinta, Mankita the Immikitan. Nonetheless, the name Makinkta as a title still exists in Borno for designating the head of a ward. Regardless of this speculative train of thought, there are traditions in both Ayar and in Borno that allude to conflict between the two during this time. The raids experienced by the Saoutantante could have taken place during this same period in the mid-15th century, although their origin likely began in the 14th century and earlier centuries. Indeed, Hamani cites traditions collected from Kutuba of the court at Agadez that alluded to frequent raids from Borno to seize women and frighten the Tuareg (Hamani 133). Other traditions record the galadima of Borno coming to Ayar to receive a tribute (Hamani 134). In addition, the Kano Chronicle records one attack by Borno against Ayar that, in Palmer's chronology, must have taken place between c.1438-1452. Although the attack failed due to the lack of adequate water supplies, it does support the above traditions of Borno attacks and raids in the 15th century, as well as an extension of Borno's influence in lands to its west (Palmer 75). When one recalls that the Immikitan would have likely been in Damergu and Kutus at this time, they could have become vassals or tributaries of Borno as a Tuareg group in closer proximity. In terms of Borno traditions, a Tuareg attack on a Magumi village triggered Ali b. Dunama's attacks against the Tuareg, and perhaps the tale of his construction of an artificial pond at Fachi for additional sources of water and fish to supply his troops to attack them (Landeroin 355).

Unfortunately, reconciling these traditions on the origin of Birni Gazargamo remains incredibly difficult. On the one hand, Palmer and Landeroin recorded traditions that overlap and suggest a long period of coexistence and exchange between the Sayfawa and the Sao (Gafata?) in the period before Ali b. Dunama established the capital. But on the other hand, these same traditions may be compressing events that developed over 2 centuries or more. Both also allude to a ruse or trick, which may be a tradition designed to mask the fact that the Muslims from Kanem lacked enough outright power or numbers to seize the land. To what extent the Bade or Bedde and Tuareg contributed to this is unclear. The Bade traditions and Landeroin mention someone named Mankinta or Makinta, with the latter claiming he was left in charge of Wudi (Garoumele) during one of Ali b. Dunama's expeditions against the Tuareg. Above we speculated that Makinta bears a superficial resemblance to Amakita, a group remembered in Ayar tradition and by Muhammad Bello for once living in Kanem, perhaps broadly conceived to include parts of Borno. It seems unlikely that an Immikitan Tuareg captive would have been left in charge of Wudi during one of Ali b. Dunama's campaigns, but it is possible that this Tuareg group may have seasonally visited the area around Birni Gazargamo for pasturage. We find it unlikely that they would have aided in the construction of the walls of Gazargamo, but it is possible that they contributed to the choosing of the site as capital. As to what happened to the Sao in the region, the closest ones to Gazargamo a century later appear to have been the Gafata, who were very much a threat to Birni Gazargamo. Besides them, the Sao Tatala living further to the east along the southern shores of Lake Chad could have also absorbed some of the Sao groups forced out of the area of Gazargamo in the 15th century.

Sources

Hamani, Djibo. Au Carrefour Du Soudan Et De La Berbérie: Le Sultanat Touareg De L'Ayar. Niamey: Institut de recherches en sciences humaines, 1989.

Hopkins, J. F. P., and Nehemia Levtzion. Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West African History. 1st Markus Weiner Publishers ed. Princeton [N.J.]: Markus Wiener Publishers, 2000.

Lange, Dierk. Le Dīwān Des Sultans Du (Kānem-)Bornū: Chronologie Et Histoire D'un Royaume Africain (de La Fin Du Xe Siècle Jusqu'à 1808). Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1977.

__________.  A Sudanic Chronicle: The Borno Expeditions of Idrīs Alauma (1564-1576) According to the Account of Aḥmad B. Furṭū : Arabic Text, English Translation, Commentary and Geographical Gazetteer. Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 1987.

Mission Tilho. Documents Scientifiques De La Mission Tilho...Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1910.

Palmer, H. R. “The Kano Chronicle.” The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland 38 (1908): 58–98. https://doi.org/10.2307/2843130.

____________.Sudanese Memoirs: Being Mainly Translations of a Number of Arabic Manuscripts Relating to the Central and Western Sudan. London: Cass, 1967.

Urvoy, Yves. "Le Chroniques d'Agadès". Journal de la Société des Africanistes 4 (1934): 145-177. https://doi.org/10.3406/jafr.1934.1573

Balancing Written History with Oral Traditions

Hassimi O. Maiga's Balancing Written History with Oral Tradition: The Legacy of the Songhoy People is one of those studies by a member of the Songhay people with so much promise. As a scholarly work authored by someone with local insights, one expects a lot from the author and his ambitious title. Indeed, one occasionally finds references to this book among online Afrocentrists who promote it.  Unfortunately, Maiga's study fails to deliver on many levels. We have learned the hard way to always be wary with the online Afrocentrists. Check their sources and one can easily discover severe limitations of their paradigm. 

What emerges from reading the text is a rather confusing attempt at face-value interpretation of Songhay or Songhoy traditions. There is no nuanced, sophisticated interpreting of oral traditions here. Moreover, Maiga relies heavily on dated sources such as Felix Dubois and J. Beraud-Villers. At times, Maiga appears to actually believe the Songhoy derive from Yemen (Dia brothers, who were somehow also Lemta Berbers?), Egypt and Nubia. Without any evidence, Maiga also asserts a deep antiquity of Katoutka and Koukya, which apparently existed at the same time as the pharoahs of Egypt. We know Gomez's African Dominion cites research demonstrating human habitation of the area of Gao since 2000 BCE, but we do not have sufficient evidence of early urbanism around that time. As more proof of the text's flaws, there's even a bizarre passage claiming potatoes were cultivated in the kingdom of Ghana! 

Furthermore, Maiga is the only writer we have encountered who claimed the Songhoy invented a writing system or script. He linked the "Kumbaw" ideogram writing system to the Kumbaw and/or Sonanche of Gao, allegedly the traditional specialists of writing. However, our previous attempts at verifying or corroborating Maiga's claim failed. There very well could have been some kind or ritualistic or ideograph system used by Songhoy specialists, but Maiga's haphazard presentation and flawed attempt at balancing written and oral sources does not inspire confidence or hope. One would also think better scholars would have discovered this Kumbaw writing system by now. Even if they were Western ethnographers and historians more interested in the political history of the Songhay kingdoms or Islamic influences, wouldn't a Jean Rouch or Hunwick have written about a Songhay ritual writing? 

One is better off consulting Hunwick, Rouch, Boubou Hama or Paulo de Moraes Farias for a much deeper analysis based on synthesizing written sources and oral history. To his credit, the author's presentation of the various dynasties from the Koungorogossi, supposedly the first, to the Dia is interesting. Does he present any evidence that the first Songhoy dynasty existed 3 centuries before the Dia brothers arrived in c.670? No, unfortunately. But the family manuscript Maiga mentions in this context sounds interesting and should be copied and analyzed by others interested in Songhay history. There are bits and pieces of his study which warrant further inquiry. A better scholar might be able to propose a more historically accurate reading of some of the traditions and family manuscripts utilized by Maiga. 

The Heart of the Ngoni

Although this blogger is no fan of Harold Courlander's work on Haiti, his recounting of the Segu epics (with Ousmane Sako) is rather entertaining. The Segu epics, which bring to mind an epic historical fiction novel by a renowned Caribbean writer, should be read together for a fuller appreciation and understanding of Bambara civilization from the 1600s-1900s. Indeed, the story of the origin of Segu goes back far further, to Wagadu and Soninke origins, tying the Bambara with other ethnic groups in the Western Sudan (Mandingue, Soninke, Fula, etc.). And, as non-Muslims whose kingdom led an uneasy coexistence with Muslim groups (in addition to incorporating Muslim mystics) the embellished narratives of past Segu kings or heroes give an idea of social values and ideals along the Niger River at a time when 3 forces were irrevocably transforming West Africa: Islam, the trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, and colonialism. While the coming of the white man is only important in the last tale of a Soninke town, and most of the tales focus on important figures and kings at the zenith of Segu's power, before the Muslim jihadists defeated Segu, the aforementioned 3 tides are unforgettably in the background. Anyone who has read the historical epic of Conde will see it immediately in these stories, focused as they are on the great kings and warriors in a time of chivalry and honor.