Chapter IX: Ale and the Ancestors 120 (3)

It was explained that the cloths were those of barren women, and had been laid at the feet of Aja and her spouse in the hope that, when resumed by their owners, the ban of sterility, imposed through the hate of some rival, might be broken by the power of the fertility-bestowing Earth Gods.

At Bush Digiriga again, a small town to the east of the Sombreiro River inhabited by Abuan people and never before visited by Europeans--a Juju ‘for the obtaining of piccans’ is to be found, which in many ways resembles the Ibo Ibudu. About this particular fetish, however, there are certain points which we never met elsewhere. In addition to the high coiffure--a recognised symbol of femininity--the head is provided with a square beard in shape like those false ones worn during certain dynasties by Egyptian rulers, especially queens reigning in their own right. It is perhaps worth noting that, while the arms of the figure are mere stumps, without any attempt to reproduce hands, and the feet are so rude as to be almost shapeless, the phallus is modelled with the utmost care, showing that in the minds of its makers this detail was of very special significance.

Outside the entrance to the Omo Dara quarter of Akpani, an Ibudu of unique type may be seen, one looking-glass eye twinkling in the middle of its head beneath a ring of feathers set crown-wise in the clay. Before it, to a four-branched post, a medicine-pot was bound.

In the midst of the quarter, beneath a little palm-leaf hut, stands a group of Ibudu. The largest of the pillars represents the female, the smaller the male, attributes. They are modelled seated back to back--a prostrate leopard lying to the left and a crater-like mound, containing a pot for Juju medicine, to the right. Chief Woke Abara, head of the quarter, gave the following explanation:

‘Formerly it was very hard for us to get children. Nearly all our women were barren, so we raised the two Ibudu, one male and the other female. Since then we got plenty piccans in our town.’ He added that the ‘leopard spirit’ helps the Juju to prevent the deaths of children. The small cone in the foreground and the headless animal lying in front of this were the work of the few children then existing.

With regard to the figure of a leopard, it is perhaps worth remarking that the ancient kings of Benin were wedded, in mystic spousals, with a leopard bride. Also, among those Ibo dwelling in the group of towns round Igrita, the spirits of the righteous dead often take up their abode in leopard form while awaiting a new term of earth life, but those who enter into crocodile, ape, or bush cat, are regarded as for ever accursed.

Amid a branch of Kalahari settled at Oguta in Owerri District, a type of Ibudu is to be found, not, so far as our knowledge goes, to be met with in other parts. Each of these emblems consists of two sphinx-like figures, one male and the other female, facing different ways but joined together by a ridge of clay, which forms, as it were, the back of the sphinx.

At the Ibo town on the far side of the beautiful Oguta lake, we came across another phallic pillar combining the figures of the dual personality, male and female, of the Ibudu Ezum Mezum. As in the case of the Ale shrine, described on page 74, the consort was nameless, bearing no designation save that of husband of Ezum Mezum. The figure representing him held the place of honour at the base of the column which symbolises the joint attributes of the Juju; while, at a height almost double that of the husband, towers the face of the wife. On either side of the pillar, out-topping the male figure from the neck upwards, climb two great crocodiles; while placed here and there, at irregular intervals, human heads stand out in high relief.

Chief Onomonu, the owner of the shrine, told us:

The Ibudu Ezum Mezum is mostly worshipped at Amaii in Abaw
District and priests came thence to build this shrine for us.
It was made at a time when a great sickness was raging in our
town, in the hope of staying this scourge, granting protection
and prosperity in general and especially to help our people in
the bearing of piccans.

At its installation, about twelve years ago, the Abaw doctors held a great ‘smelling out,’ and, in consequence, decreed that the epidemic was caused by the witchcraft of the six _richest_ women of the town, who must therefore be put to death and their property be made over to the medicine men! When informed of their doom, the victims refused to acquiesce and were therefore beaten to death in the market-place. The number of heads, modelled at irregular intervals over the pillar, corresponds to that of the victims thus slaughtered at the inauguration ceremonies--four at the back and two in front, between the sacred crocodiles. All are liberally smeared with blood poured upon the heads and trickling downward. This is the only example known to us at the time in which an Ibudu is so represented as to show the dual creative forces, male and female, combined so as to form a single pillar. Many Ibudu were later seen among the Abaw Ibo of Kwale District, where this particular type of symbol would seem to have reached its greatest development.

The phallic figures, above-mentioned, are, however, by no means the only examples met with in West Africa of the mingling, in one object, of male and female symbols. For instance, the emblem of the greatest of all Ekoi Jujus, Eja, unmistakably combines the two. Here, the phallus, represented with the uttermost pains and fidelity, is the sign of the harvest god himself, while the bowl-like object to which it is attached represents the womb of his wife Ekumoke. The united symbol stands upon a base formed of wide-open human jaws.[16]

Among the Ekoi, both in the South Cameroons and Southern Nigeria, as indeed throughout the greater part of the West Coast generally, a pot or calabash is regarded as a feminine symbol, and it is of considerable significance that traces of male semen have been found in no inconsiderable number of the pots set before Ibudu images and in other Juju shrines throughout the Ibo country. This fact is vouched for by a medical officer.

In the ritual chant sung by Ekoi at the festival of Eja, which is also the feast of the first fruits, the names of the combined deities are always invoked:

Man Eja! I am staying with you.
O, I am staying with you!
Ekumoke! I am staying with you.
O, I am staying with you!

Of these two deities it was expressly stated: ‘Eja is male and the most strong. Ekumoke is less strong than Eja; nevertheless without her help he can do nothing.’

During the annual rites a woman was formerly sacrificed and the genital organs cut out and laid in the sacred pot, which contains the ‘medicine’ of the cult. Since the coming of Government it has naturally become increasingly difficult to obtain this necessary ingredient, and it was a matter of grave anxiety on the part of the priest lest the power of the Juju should decrease in consequence.

Amidst some of the eastern Ibo sub-tribes and the northern Semi-Bantu, the ancestors are represented by small clay pillars or mounds, clay balls or round or pointed stones, before which sacrifices are made and prayers offered for the granting of fertility, especially at the two great festivals of the year, the planting of farms and the harvest.

In those parts of the country where rock is available, _i.e._ among the northern Yoruba and Semi-Bantu, many stone monoliths may be found, some of which are unmistakably phallic, while others are used not only for this worship but also as ancestral memorials. In fact, the two cults are inexplicably mixed, as is natural when it is remembered that amongst these peoples fruitfulness is, to a large extent, attributed to the forefathers. Some of these memorials date back many hundreds of years; a fuller description will be found in Chapter XVII, vol. ii, of _The Peoples of Southern Nigeria_.

In the club-houses of the great Ekkpe secret society the sacrifices are made before a phallic monolith, which represents the former members of the club as also the tutelary deity, while in, or near, its base are generally placed rounded pebbles, the symbol of the Earth Goddess. A similar monolith is worshipped amongst many of the Bantu and Bafumbum-Bansaw as a representation of the supreme deity.

VII

EKU

All over the western part of the District a strange rite still obtains which is obviously only another manifestation of the phallic cult. As there are local differences it will be necessary to describe separately the peculiarities of each centre.

By the roadside near Umo Abale, a quarter of Omo Dioga, half hidden amid grass and creepers, we came across a crowd of figures formed of sun-baked clay, cone-shaped and painted black. Further on, in front of almost each compound, smaller groups were to be seen, usually arranged at the base of some Juju tree, or round a sapling of the sacred Ogrisi (_Dolichandrone_ sp.). In several cases circular moulds of baked clay, much like an old-fashioned spittoon in shape, lay nearby. It was explained that upon these the girls of each compound, after undergoing the initiatory ceremonies preparatory to marriage, set the food cooked as an offering to the Eku, as the phallic figures are called. This word is also used to designate the cones of baked clay used to support cooking-pots. Should any girl, after arriving at the age of puberty and being inducted into the feminine mysteries, neglect to set up such an image each year, about the time of making new farms, until she becomes a member of her husband’s house, no babes would bless their union. In one or two cases a slight amount of decoration, formed by lines drawn with the fingers in the soft clay, has been added; while here and there an attempt was made to surmount the cone by what was explained as a representation of the high head-dress only allowed to Ibo women after the birth of a babe. Mostly, however, the images showed nothing more or less than a simple attempt at depicting the phallus.

About a month later, at the house of Chief Ugwa in the Oturu quarter of Akpani, Eku of a still simpler type were found, together with clay pot-rests of much the same shape as those already described; while just outside, in the bush by the roadside, we came upon some thirty or more phallic figures, the tallest and frankest yet seen. Some stood on circular, some on rectangular, bases; but on each the membrum virile was modelled with especial care.

It was explained that every year, when making the more elaborate pillars, each betrothed girl fashions several of the plainer type, a foot to a foot and a half in height. These are said to be used as ‘strong Juju on which to swear people.’[17] Three of these are borne by each maid to her bridegroom’s compound, there to be presented to the chief woman of the family, by whom they are set together to support the pot in which food is cooked for the future husband. When ready, this is poured into a native bowl and placed upon the clay ring. After marriage, the bride comes to the new home and herself cooks her husband’s meals upon the same three pillars prepared by her own hands.

It is not without significance that the trinity of cone-shaped pillars, with cup-like depressions, raised before the Kalahari Nduen Fobara (ancestral shrines), into which libations to the forefathers are poured every eighth day, are of almost identical type. At Oru-Sangama, an ancient town on a creek leading into the San Bartholomeo River, we came across two of these small cones modelled within a circle, also of clay, beneath the palm-leaf roof of a tiny hut. So like were these to the Eku emblems that we took for granted that the little shrine was but another dwelling-place of one of the manifold representations of Ibudu Omumu, _i.e._ the Ibudu of fertility. Long sojourn in Africa should, however, teach caution even to the most careless enquirer, and we therefore, as always, took the precaution to keep our ideas to ourselves and asked the significance of the symbol. As a result we were told that they represented the Nduen Fobara of a neighbouring house. Our informant added:

Some men make three, some two, small pillars for the pouring
out of libations to the spirits of their dead. Some again make
only one such emblem for the reception of drink offerings. Here
no carved images are shown as is usual in rich Kalahari towns;
the cones themselves represent the ancestors, except in the
case of men of distinction.

Considering the peculiar powers thought by many tribes to attach to the phalli of the dead, especially those of warriors or others who excelled in strength or power, as also the Egyptian legend of the birth of Horus--that seed of life, snatched by the widowed Isis from Death himself--it is perhaps not too far fetched an idea to imagine that the likeness of symbol was intended to signify a connection between the physical body of the new-born and the astral shape or ethereal mould, supplied in most cases according to general belief from the ghost realm, where the ancestral shades await reincarnation--by preference in the bodies of those about to be born to the family to which they themselves formerly belonged.

Sir James Frazer, in his wonderful _Golden Bough_, tells of sacrificial victims whose phalli were beaten with twigs--not out of cruelty, but with the idea of increasing the powers of virility. Among the Ekkett Ibibio sacred boughs are drawn over the pudenda of warriors while parts are even cut off and buried secretly by the marriage bed, in the byre or on the farm. In this connection it is perhaps worth mentioning that one of the most dreaded of West African tortures, employed upon captives of distinction, was the continued flagellation of the phalli.

Chief Igo, of Omo Nelu, gave the following information:

We start to make the Eki--as they are locally called--at the
time of cutting the undergrowth for the new farms. Then, when
we have carried out the images and set them up by the roadside,
we begin clearing away the top branches. The ornamented
pot-rests are used for cooking chop for the Eki.

Chief Chuku’s quarter cooks for two weeks (_i.e._ sixteen
days). Amadi’s and my quarter cook for thirty days. It is the
young girls who make these things--both the cooking ones and
the others. For twenty-five days we hold the first festival,
that of the low round Eki, which we call Eki Mother. Every
evening at about five o’clock time the girls cook. On the
twenty-fifth day each girl starts making one of the high Eki,
Ada Eki (eldest daughter of Eki), which is worshipped for
five days before carrying it out. When my father was alive,
the ceremony always started in his compound; for he was the
head chief. After he had made festival for eight days, all the
other compounds joined in and continued till thirty days were
finished. Then all men took notice and said: ‘It is now time to
start the new farms.’

With us also the young girls go and get ant hill earth before
they make the Eki, but they do not use it for these, only keep
it in their houses for three months and afterwards take it with
them to the market-place, where they dance and play round it
and then finally throw it away.

Egu ’Nde ’Nwayin is a woman’s festival held at the time of
digging new yams. It was my father, the priest of Ale, who set
the time for this ceremony also. At this time the women dress
very finely, wearing many beads round their ankles.

On another occasion, just after leaving Ndelle en route for Rumoji, we found, by the side of a bush-path beneath the spreading branches of a Berlinia, a hut, the long, low, palm-leaf roof of which was covered with the fragrant white-petalled flowers showered down from above. Under this shelter was a platform of clay some twenty feet in length, carefully smoothed and with gaily coloured plates set at intervals along its edge. Upon this a double row of strangely-shaped finely-decorated figures were to be seen, formed of sun-dried clay, much in the style of the Eku already mentioned, but far more elaborately modelled and painted. On the bright yellow clay, ridges and lines of shining black, vivid blue and white were to be seen, while each was surmounted with an attempt to represent the elaborate styles of coiffure affected by girls of marriageable age.

Each had been brought thither by a maiden of the neighbourhood after undergoing initiatory rites in company with her ‘age class.’ The ceremonies are conducted in places set apart, under the leadership of elderly women of the town. The time chosen is after the planting of new farms when the seeds first germinate. At this season all little maids who have reached, or are approaching, the age of puberty--for the ‘age class’ includes those born within three years of one another--come together to be instructed, by matrons chosen for the purpose, in all that it is thought necessary for them to know as a preparation for marriage. Later, the neophytes return to their parents’ house and there model the figures shown in the photograph. When all are ready they go, together with their instructress and a band of relatives, each bearing one of the Eku upon her head in procession to the spot chosen by priest or instructress. Here a platform of clay, decorated with insets of plates, pieces of looking-glass, etc., has already been prepared. The celebrants in turn place thereon the queerly shaped image which is supposed to be necessary in order to draw down upon the girl, who offers it, the blessing of fertility.

Beside those newly initiated, older maidens, to whom the mysteries have formerly been revealed but who are as yet unwedded, also take part in the rite, bearing a fresh Eku in the procession, year after year until the whole, or at any rate the main part, of the dowry has been paid, and they leave their parents’ house for that of a husband. The elder girls offer images often over a yard in height, while the new initiates bring smaller ones, proportionate to their size.

At a little distance from the places set apart for the principal images, fish racks may occasionally be seen by the roadside and on, or between them, the smallest figures of all are to be found. These are said to represent ‘the slaves of the Eku.’ Each girl, after modelling her own symbol, makes at least one such little attendant, so that her image may be well served.

Near Ndelle waterside a somewhat different arrangement obtains. In front of the long line of Eku, a separate group may usually be found set round a sapling of the sacred Ogrisi tree. The central figure is dedicated to the principal girl of the town, while the smaller ones grouped round her represent her attendants. Near the centre, springing out of the clay base, was a small sprig of the bush which Ale brought with her when she first formed the earth.

At the same time of year, when the seed corn and yams lie awaiting rebirth in the womb of the Earth Mother, the unmarried girls of Elele carry out a ritual similar in many respects but with certain points of difference. Here the images are modelled from clay supplied not by the parents, as is usual in other parts, but by the bridegroom. These must be rubbed and smoothed for seven days and each is surmounted by a head, the coiffure of which is carefully copied from that of the girl herself. Every evening, food offerings are carried to the place where the Eki are set up, while the girls dance and sing before them. The bridegroom must provide from sixty to a hundred Awarawu manillas during this time, which are accepted by the parents as part of the dowry.

Often these strange images are modelled with breasts in addition to the male emblem. Is it an unwarrantable assumption to think that this may possibly be intended as a primitive attempt at picturing the ideal marriage, in which male and female attributes play equal parts? This peculiarity is not confined to the Eku but is even more marked in many Ibudu, as for instance the one already mentioned at the Umo Alipo compound, Omo Chuku (see p. 66).

Some time after all the Eki have been set up in the farms, compounds and bush round Elele, preparations are made for the carrying out of a further ceremony, called Nwan Aja, _i.e._ Child of the Earth, which is said to be closely related to the festival already described. For this, the unmarried girls of Elele go out to the bush and search round until each has found one of the great mounds thrown up by termites. ‘With the help of relatives she digs down into this until she comes to the heart of the cave, named in our speech Wekwe Eruru.’ The floor of this looks like a mountain range in miniature. Breathless with excitement, the little maid counts the number of peaks; for just as many as there are of these, so many babes she will bear. With infinite pains, that not one may be broken off, she cuts round, then lifts the flat, roughly circular mass to her head and carries it home. This is a time of great anxiety; for, should any part break away during the process, the number of fallen points denotes--alas!--the still-born babes which fate will send her.

In some places all the girls of the quarter join together to seek out an ant hill and dig up the part in which dwells the queen ant. ‘One of their number is appointed to carry this thing, which is then borne back to the town and set down on the road near some of the principal compounds. All stand watching to see in what direction the ants will go; for the way they take points out the compound in which the girls are to live until the time of the new yam harvest. There they must stay in seclusion, grinding cam-wood and preparing for the approaching festival. Thither their future husbands come bringing palm-wine, yams and fish, together with six Awarawu manillas as dash for the owner of the compound.’

From many indications we had long suspected that the magic powers of the ant hill proceeded, in part at least, from its phallic resemblance. This was borne out by the number of Ibudu shrines, avowedly raised for the increase of children, before which these curious structures, known in these parts as ‘Bush-men,’ were found. In several, one of these lesser ant hills had been set up amid the special ‘servants of the Juju’ modelled on either hand of the principal image. Such an one is to be seen in the shrine of Ezum Mezum, erected within the compound of the Aro chief Ogunda of Azu-Miri near Nkarahia. On each side of the pillar stand her ‘servants.’ The nearest, a conventionalised phallic pillar surmounted by a head and with a little doorway in its tower-like base, through which one of the small elongated chalk cones--offered by every woman of the compound after conception--is seen, half in and half out, so as to appear in the act of entering. Next to this, but further from the image, is a natural ant hill, daubed with paint, against which leaned several of the lesser symbols.

These chalk cones or images, though more roughly moulded, bear considerable resemblance to those carefully modelled in clay and suspended over their father’s shrine by each ‘true daughter’ of an Ibibio chief in the Mkpokk region to show that they were the legitimate offspring of the dead man, not of slaves, or of ‘widows’ born to the house, of whom he was only titular parent.

At the end of their period of seclusion in Nwan Aja’s compound, the girls of Elele put on new cloths and gay ornaments, then sally forth to market (Eke Oma). This is a sign that the play is ended for the time.

Every other year a special play is given. According to Mr. D. Braid:

‘This cannot be carried out more often, on account of the great
expense incurred therein by the bridegroom. The name of this
play is Ajiji’--in some places Adidi or Adadi--‘and it is one
of the best of all plays for girls and ladies. It looks grand
whenever they start same. They dress with brass ornaments,
corals, etc., on their feet, all which expenses are run by
the husbands, with the exception of the anklets for one foot
which the parents are expected to provide. The brass ornaments
are prepared by the blacksmiths, from nine Awarawu manillas
for growing up ladies and four to five for younger girls. All
go in procession round the town until they come to a place in
the Omuneta quarter called Ebu, where there is a great tree in
which dwells a certain powerful Juju. Here fowls are sacrificed
and cut in such a manner that blood falls upon the feet of each
girl. After this has been done, they sing all kinds of songs,
dancing with great gladness for some hours.’

Both on the way there and back those girls who are about to
marry rich men are carried in decorated chairs, with a canopy
fastened above them. Bearers are hired for this service by the
future husbands. During the Ajiji ceremony many ghosts flock
into the town. In olden days, these would strike the girls as
they were borne by; because spirits are jealous of any mortal
whose feet are not set upon the ground. A bride thus struck
always sickens and usually dies within the year. That is the
reason why, nowadays, each girl holds a picture before her, so
that the ghosts may strike at this and let her go by unharmed.

On reaching home a feast is given by the parents and next
morning all the girls take chop to the husbands’ place. This
food is distributed to all in his compound, together with
rewards of money. The bridegroom is expected to do the same
in return and all the expenses incurred by him at this time
are counted as dowry. The play generally lasts for seven Ekes,
_i.e._ about two months.

In October 1916, just outside Elele, on the Nkarahia road, a group of specially interesting symbolic images was found. It consisted in roughly modelled male and female figures, arranged in pairs and lying outstretched at the base of a great cotton tree (Akpu). The bays, formed by its buttress-like roots, were separated from one another by giant snakes moulded in clay, which, arranged in irregular loops, usually with the tail of one against the tail of the other, served to fence off the sacred enclosure from the wayside. Within the various bays thus formed smaller serpents twined and twisted, often placed between the male and female figures. In one case the phallic serpent was shown in the act of entering the body of a woman.

Dotted over the slope, forked sticks were seen driven into the ground or raised on little clay mounds. From these depended strings of great snail shells (_Acatina marginata_) or empty fish racks, in shape much like the head of a Badminton racquet.

This group, the name of which was given as Akpu Ogbe Ajiji, had been modelled by maidens of marriageable age belonging to Chief Woyike’s compound as an additional means of increasing fertility.

_See p. 94_]

Just beyond Elele Aliminni, on the Ndelle road, a great tree may be found to the Genius of which the unmarried girls of the neighbourhood go and pray during the Ajiji--locally called Adidi--ceremony. Three circular clay steps are built, one above the other, round the base of the tree and reaching about four feet up its trunk, forming a rough altar upon which piles of _Acatina marginata_ shells and empty fish racks (Paka Eji) were laid. A few yards further, in front of the compound of Chief Ofonda, a large terminal bud of the banana flower-spike, pierced with four slivers of wood was set up on a tall palm stalk. This bud is called Eni Awsoku, _i.e._ navel of plantain or banana. It is natural enough that these two trees should bear special significance in the fertility rites. The combination of phallic-shaped fruit and terminal bud with its oval form offers an obvious symbol of the male and female reproductive organs.

After building the Adidi altar and setting up Eni Awsoku, the celebrants go in procession round the town, their faces rubbed with chalk of a pale café au lait shade and their hair covered with bright yellow paste. From a distance this colouring gives them a curiously European look. At the back, hanging round the waist, they wear a kind of apron of large glass beads, arranged in alternate squares, usually green and brown in colour, the whole fringed with little brass balls.

After a girl has been given in marriage and has gone to live with her husband, she may never again take part in the Ajiji play. At the end of the series of Eku ceremonies, which last, roughly speaking, from the ending of farm planting to harvest time, the whole town of Elele goes to Chief Eleche’s compound for the feast of new yams which is held in honour of the great Juju Aya-Eke. On this occasion every man, woman and child bears a gift to the priest. Even little babes, too small to stand alone, are borne before him. The mothers press a gift into the tiny hands and then hold them out towards the chief that not even the smallest should fail to make offering.

The name Ajiji, given by Ibo to the greatest play in the series, would seem to be derived from Aja (sacrifice), which is also in some parts the name of the Earth Goddess herself, and Ji (yam).

VIII

THE YAM CULT

At the cutting of new farms most Ibo chiefs make sacrifice to Ale and again before harvest. Beside offerings to her, some should also be made to the Ajokko-Ji[18] or Njokkoji--the king (or Juju) yam, the biggest one of all the crop in which the yam spirit is thought to take up its abode. This is always set aside from one season to another, and when bird or beast is slain in sacrifice to the Genius of the farm, the blood is thrown upon the Ajokko-Ji.

Should a man find that he has more yams one year than in the
seasons before, he brings the richest sacrifice in his power
and offers it in thanks to the Farm Spirit for giving increase
and doing good to him. The word Ajokko means Juju, but it is
also used with the signification of ‘great’ and ‘mighty.’ This
king yam, as it is sometimes called, is kept throughout the
whole year until next harvest comes round. Either fowls’ or
goats’ blood should be poured out in libation upon it. Formerly
a spirit dwelt within, which protected all the yam racks in the
farm. Now, owing to the dying out of such beliefs, people are
not afraid to steal from these. In olden days they never dared
to do such a thing for dread of the yam Juju.

While visiting Oppe, a farm settlement just outside Alessa, we were shown a ‘strong Juju’ connected with the worship of Nkike, the Mbolli Earth Goddess. This was formed from a collection of skulls, yams and other roots, bound round with tie-tie into the form of a gigantic yam and then attached to a stout stake, the end of which was sharply pointed for driving into the ground. This symbol was said to take, for the Mbolli, the place of the giant Ajokko-Ji to which Ibo offer sacrifice.

A more elaborate substitute was found at Ogu on the Niger--a town occupied by a sub-tribe of Ibo, allied to those of Onitsha. There, in the house of one of the secondary chiefs, a row of small pots was seen, set in the clay floor, along one side of the verandah. These were explained as the Ife Ajokko--called Ife Ja Okko by some--which for this tribe take the place of the Ajokko-Ji. There were nine pots of different shape; the number was explained by saying that, as each chief succeeded to the headship of the house, a new Ife Ajokko was made. Eight, therefore, were those belonging to the ancestors.

Among Mbolli the phallic pillars are of a peculiar type mostly carved from wooden blocks instead of being built in clay. Of these, the one in the Juju house at Obudu may be taken as typical. Such bear the name Obo Esa--the four hundred yams--and are specially raised as a means of increasing the crops.

When a fresh farm is cut, a special ceremony is carried out to induce the yam spirit to transfer its abode from the old farm to the new. The basket in which the great yam is contained, or post to which it is bound, is usually kept near a sapling of the tree which over the greater part of the West Coast is regarded as most sacred of all. This is a variety of Dolichandrone--strangely named considering the functions ascribed to it by natives--called by Kalahari Odumdum and by Ibo Ogrisi.

Among Ekoi, Efik and Ibibio, this beautiful tree with its glossy imparipinnate leaves and great clusters of pinkish-mauve flowers, is known as ‘The Mother of the Town,’ and a sapling of it is planted in nearly every compound. The finest specimen ever seen by us was found in one of the town playgrounds at Ikotobo in the Eket District.

Within the hollow trunk stood native pots filled with
offerings, for to it come wives, young and old, to pray that
‘plenty piccans’ may be sent to bless their hearths. Hither,
too, come ancient women to beg a like boon for their children
and grandchildren. Should lightning shiver the ancient trunk
or tornado strike it down, loud would be the wailing of those
who had grown up beneath its shadow.[19]

It is unusual that trees of this species grow to such a size; yet very few compounds in the Ibo country are without a sturdy sapling, for not only its fertility-bestowing but also its purificatory powers are held in the utmost reverence. Should a Kalabari woman meet with vexation which causes her to shed tears while cooking her husband’s food, it is thought that this will have ill results upon him unless, before serving it, she plucks some of the sacred leaves, draws them over her body and then strikes them upon the ground round about, that the evil effect of her tears may be negatived and her husband not suffer therefrom.

Not only is the Ajokko-Ji usually kept beneath the shelter of these sacred boughs, unless confided to the care of the ghosts in some ancestral shrine, but the Ogrisi itself becomes a symbol of the yam spirit. It was principally in this capacity, as emblem of the chief crop of the year, that at the death of each chief important enough to own an Obiri (reception room)--_i.e._ every head of a family of standing--a slave was killed as a sacrifice to the sacred tree.

Such unfortunate members of the community were well fed for several days, during which everything was done to cause them to be of good cheer and in perfect condition. Then they were robed in gay apparel and led forth to the sacred tree, where their throats were cut in such a manner that the blood flowed to the ground, fertilising the earth about its roots. No portion of such victims was ever eaten; their bodies were buried near by that thus Mother Ale might be enriched and induced to grant plentiful crops to those who brought her the offering.

The following information concerning the great Elele yam cult, Aya-Eke, was gleaned from Mr. D. Braid, for several years Native Court clerk of this town:

The compound where the Juju is kept is called Omo-Kpurukpu and there, from election until death--at most seven years later, even should the full term of office be completed--the priest dwells, carefully guarded by all his people and never crossing the threshold unless called forth by some grave emergency. The reason for this restriction is that up to a few years ago any man who succeeded in killing the holder of this office would reign in his stead.

The whole prosperity of the town, especially the fruitfulness of farm, byre and marriage bed, was linked with his life. Should he fall sick, it entailed famine and grave disaster upon the inhabitants, and there is reason to believe that, in such a case, facilities were offered to a successor. Under no circumstances did the term of office last for more than seven full years. This prohibition still holds; but since the coming of Government it is said that another of the same family, who must always be a strong man, may be chosen to take up the position in his stead. No sooner is a successor appointed, however, than the former priest is reported to ‘die for himself.’ It was frankly owned that, before Government came--_i.e._ some dozen years ago--things were arranged differently in that, at any time during his seven years’ term, the priest might be put to death by one strong and resourceful enough to overcome him.

In answer to the question as to whether, in view of the fate known to follow after so short a period, it was not difficult to find men willing to succeed to the office on such terms, Mr. Braid answered in a somewhat surprised tone: ‘Oh, no! Many wish for the post, because so much wealth is brought them at the annual festival that they become very rich--past all others in the town.’

Our informant also stated that, during his own term of office, Chief Eleche has only once been known to pass beyond the compound walls. The occasion was as follows:

A fellow townsman accused him of making a Juju to kill the complainant. The case came into court and, all unconscious of the excitement which such a proceeding must cause, the chief was bidden to attend and answer the charge. He arrived, accompanied by nearly all the townsfolk, who not only filled the courtyard, which is a very large enclosed space, but thronged the market-place outside. They came, in a state of great anxiety, to watch over the sacred priest and guard him, so far as in them lay, from any misfortune the effects of which, it was believed, would at once react on all the countryside.

Doubtless Mr. Braid would have been less ready to impart information of this nature, had it not been that he was about to leave the place, in all probability never to return, and had therefore nothing to fear from the townspeople. So soon as other official work allowed, I returned to Elele to adjust some difficulties which had meantime arisen, and also with the hope of gleaning further knowledge concerning Aya-Eke and its priest.

First I looked up the case in the course of which Eleche was summoned to appear. This was recorded under No. 353 and was heard on 7th December, 1914. It runs, in substance, as follows:

Yenanu, the plaintiff, stated on oath:

About two years ago I fell sick and the native doctors told me
that people of my compound were trying to kill me. I therefore
called a family meeting, in which the big men decided that Juju
should be sworn for me. Eleche performed the ceremony, calling
upon the Juju to slay anyone guilty of trying to bring about
my death before new corn time. If this happened, they agreed
to pay me four hundred manillas, four demi-johns of tombo, a
basket of yams and a bottle of gin. Should no one die, it would
prove that the accusation was untrue and I myself must pay the
like amount in compensation for bringing a false charge. The
time fixed upon had not expired when one of the men died, but I
did not ask for payment.

Nine months after swearing Juju, the accused called me at Oka’s
compound and informed me that it was now young corn time; yet
no one had died, therefore I must pay the amount agreed upon.
This I refused to do since one of them had been slain by the
Juju. Then they conspired together and gave orders that I
should be killed; also they put Juju in my well to prevent me
and my people from getting water. Certain Jujus were also hung
on the road to my farm by Eleche and Okuku. On this I went to
Chief Chioma and related the whole matter. He advised me not
to eat any yams from the farm near which the Juju was placed.
After this they ordered me to clean a portion of the road, but
seeing that they were seeking to kill me I refused and went to
work with Chief Chioma’s people. After the road was finished, I
was called before a meeting at Woda’s house, where they ordered
me to break down my compound and take all my properties to
Chioma’s quarter.

Oluene, witness for plaintiff, stated on oath:

I was present at the family meeting when the accused consulted
together and made a rule that anyone who saw Yenanu should kill
him; nor did any of our people allow him to take fire, etc.,
from their houses.

The case was dismissed, but the complainant died soon after. Next Eke day, Eleche, wearing his Juju hat trimmed with seven eagle’s feathers and the tail of a parrot, sallied forth, followed by all his people, to hold a progress throughout the town, while his attendants triumphantly proclaimed that Aya-Eke had slain the man who dared to summon her priest before mortal tribune.

On arrival at Elele our next step was to seek further information from the head men of the town, when these came to salute us. At first, the result was distinctly disappointing. No one had ever heard of the Juju or its priest! In fact, on the authority of all the principal inhabitants, no institution even remotely resembling Aya-Eke existed in the neighbourhood. Only after the case above quoted was shown to them did a light dawn upon the chiefs. Ah yes, they said, in very ancient days they believed there was some such Juju in their town, but the memory of it had long since died away. As for Eleche, now they came to think of it, the priesthood had been in his family and possibly even he might hold that the office had descended to him. Since Government came to their country however--this with the most ingratiating smile--people had no use for such old superstitions, which had therefore fallen into utter neglect and forgetfulness. It was eagerly stated that there were other customs in their town much more worthy of the notice of the District Commissioner--for instance, Odo’s Juju, the head priest of which was immediately found and brought forward. It would indeed be a pity, they added deferentially, should our time be wasted in enquiries into matters of so little account as those with which Eleche was concerned.

It was quite obvious that one and all were anxious to prevent further investigations and the result of the interview was naturally to send us hot-foot to the Omo-Kpurukpu quarter of the town, which is separated from the main section by some half mile of road. Here, in a house formed of elaborately carved wooden panels--to the best of my belief the only dwelling of its kind throughout the whole Division--lived the priest-king Eleche. Before the house stood a rude figure, formed of a stout post bound round with cloth, crowned with a cap and with two sticks extending arm-wise at right angles from near the top. This represented the late priest Eyinda, a brother of the present holder of the dignity, said to have died about two years ago.

Eleche himself wore a similar hat of office, its crown bound with a strip of white cloth, into which the seven emblematic eagle’s feathers and the parrot’s tail were fastened. He explained that he could not yet wear the full Juju dress of white baft, because he was not entitled to don this until after the third year of his priesthood, which period would not be ended before next harvest. His predecessors in the office, so far as his personal recollection went, had been named Eyinda, Omeneyin, Wana and Azunda. He himself had been a small boy when Azunda died. ‘These,’ said he, ‘were great men of our house. Now of them all I alone am left to carry out the rites of the Juju, which is so powerful that death falls upon every man who offends against its laws.’

The rule of this Juju is very good, much like the law of
the white men. By it, it is decreed, that no fighting or
quarrelling, no seizure of property--above all, no shedding of
blood--may take place upon Eke day.[20] No priest of Aya-Eke
may eat of the new season’s yams. All the harvest must be
garnered and the festival held. Then, though others may eat,
I may not until all the new farms have been cut and planted.
Only when the last of the seed yams has been laid in the ground
do the people bring me those which yet remain over in the yam
racks. These I eat, calling the first of them ‘my new season’s
yam’ though, in reality, it was garnered at the last harvest
about seven moons before.

Our visit chanced to be paid at the beginning of April, and Eleche told us that nine days earlier he had eaten his first yam of the year.

‘All the people of Elele bring offerings to me,’ he said. ‘When
the yams finish they bring plantains and I begin to chop those.
Also they bring me much tombo. It is a very strong law of the
Juju that no yams, save such as are old enough to plant, may be
eaten by a priest of Aya-Eke. None has ever broken this rule;
for, should it be disobeyed, the seed yams would die in the
ground, bearing no increase. All the great men of our family
have kept the law faithfully. Now no more big men are left in
our house; but I, though but a small boy in comparison with
those powerful ones, also hold to this rule.’

Hereupon one of our party asked if he himself had power to appoint a successor, or in what way one was chosen. No sooner was the word ‘successor’ uttered than Eleche raised his arms over his head twice as though to ward off threatened danger, while his head wife, who kept close to him throughout, shrugged her shoulders violently over and over again, repeating in an agitated voice: ‘Mba! Mba! Che! Che!’ (Let it not be! Let it not be!) Meanwhile the crowd of retainers took up the cry, low but angry, like the rumble of distant thunder, waving hands outward as if to drive off the ill-effects of such ominous speech. Eleche answered excitedly, the words tumbling over one another in his agitation:

‘No successor is needed; for I shall never die! It is forbidden
even to mention such a word! In the beginning of things, when
I came out of the world, it was arranged that I should not be
as other men but should live very long--looking after my people
and bringing them prosperity. The fate of common men is not for
me!’ Thereupon, like a Greek chorus, came the response of the
crowd: ‘Oda! Oda! (Forbid it! Forbid it!)’

The head wife, who had seated herself so soon as her husband did so, although all the others remained standing at a respectful distance, was a youngish woman evidently holding a position of more than usual importance. Later, we learned that it was customary for this head wife to die ‘about the same time as her husband’; but all attempts to extract more definite information were met with professions of ignorance.

The most important ceremonies of the cult are held at the time of the new yam harvest, when a great sacrifice is made and, as already mentioned, every man, woman and child of Elele brings a gift to the house of the priest. Before leaving, we asked whether no other rites were observed in honour of Aya-Eke and were told that early in May, _i.e._ at the beginning of the rainy season, all the inhabitants gathered to witness a wrestling match held in the open space before Eleche’s house. This is continued on every big Eke day, _i.e._ each eighth day, for about three months until the new yam festival, during which the feast of the ancestral spirits is also celebrated. Later, all go to Chief Woyike’s compound in the Omopo quarter and there wrestle in honour of the new corn Juju, Mbara (Lord of the Town), of which he is priest. After his festival is over, all wrestling finishes for the year.

No sooner had we learned this than we set out for the new shrine. Here, at the opposite extremity of the town, lies the compound known as Obakere, inhabited by Woyike, priest of the rival Juju. The chief received us with simple friendliness and seemed willing for a visit to his shrine. Nor, after the first shyness had worn off, did he show any reluctance to speak of the Juju, concerning which a few carefully-careless questions brought out the following information:

When the wrestling at Eleche’s is finished, all men come here
to witness mine; after which the whole town must cease from
such contests, which may not be held again till the next
season comes round. We think that this ceremony will help the
crops to grow strong, overcoming evil influences and bearing
much increase. The reason why the wrestling is held first at
Eleche’s place and then mine, is that his Juju Aya-Eke is wife
to my Juju ’Mbara. The first is feminine and looks after the
yams; mine is male, the spirit of corn. When the first green
shoot pushes through the soil, I make ready and, on the coming
of the young cobs, my Juju proclaims a four months’ peace.
During this time no one may fight with another nor seize any
person or property. Should a man offend against this rule six
manillas and a goat must be paid to revoke the Juju for him,
otherwise he would die.

When the time comes round, I go forth and announce that if
anyone does anything to annoy the Juju I will not allow him to
take part in my ceremony. To me no gifts are brought like those
borne every year to Eleche; but when the season comes round I
make a great feast for the people, giving them much food and
palm-wine in abundance.

The priest was old and somewhat worn-looking. Round his shrunken ankles were bound little bones, pierced through at either end and fastened by black cord in three rows. These, he said, were a powerful medicine to keep off rheumatics and other ills which beset the aged, but had nothing to do with his Juju.

‘How indeed could such a thing be possible,’ he queried,

since ’Mbara is a male Juju and the bones are those of
Tortoise, who, as is well known, is proper only to feminine
cults? By the place where I usually sit a tortoise was impaled
years ago for protection; then, when it was decayed enough, I
took the little bones out from the shell and, after they had
been cleaned, strung them into these anklets, as you see. There
are three Ale shrines in our town, by each of which Tortoise
is impaled. Also before the shrine of Aya-Eke a shell may
naturally be seen.

Towards the middle of May we found ourselves back again in Elele and enquiries brought out the fact that the first wrestling of Aya-Eke was to be held about noon on the morrow. The hour seemed a strange one to choose for such a purpose, under a tropical sun; but before mid-day drums began to beat in the distance, summoning the people with the unmistakable rhythm only used for such occasions. So soon therefore as court was over, we set out to follow the call.

It was 15th May and a day of blazing sunshine; yet crowds had already collected and sat, the elect in a circle many deep round the compound, while the rest almost blocked the road along its front. Three sets of drums were playing; first Eleche’s household band, secondly one supplied by a neighbouring quarter, and thirdly, just before the shrine, that which bore the proud name of ‘The Juju’s Own.’ This consisted of six drums, three tall and upright, three long and oval.