We shall see, later on, that a distinction seems to be made between deaths ‘by the act of Mpambe,’ and from other causes.
Before leaving this part of the subject, we may note that, according to the Yao belief, Mulungu ‘arranges the spirits of the dead in rows or tiers,’ and some mysterious beings called ‘the people of Mulungu’ figure in their fragmentary legends of creation.
Besides the above, the Yaos seem to have had special deities of their own, connected with the country whence they came, and, therefore, probably, ancient chiefs of theirs, as ‘the old gods of the country’ were of the Anyanja. Such was Mtanga, supposed to dwell on Mount Mangoche, lying midway between Lake Chiuta and the Shiré, and the old home of the Mangoche tribe. It was believed that the voice of Mtanga could still be heard on Mangoche. Some said (twenty or thirty years ago) that ‘Mtanga was never a man,’ and the name is only ‘another word for Mulungu.’ However, both meanings would seem to have been lost sight of in more recent times, since, in Dr. Hetherwick’s Yao vocabulary we only find ‘Mtanga, a hobgoblin.’ This definition would also suit Chitowe (or Siluwi), who is enumerated along with Mtanga by Dr. Macdonald, but figures in fairy tales as a kind of monstrous being, with only one arm, one leg, one eye, etc., the rest of his body being made of wax. ‘He is associated with famine.... He is invoked by the women, on the day of initiating their fields ... when the new crop has begun to grow.’ Chitowe may become a child or a young woman. In this disguise he visits villages and tells whether the coming year will bring food or famine. He receives their hospitality, but throws the food over his shoulder without eating it. Chitowe is a child or subject of Mtanga, and some speak of several Chitowe who are messengers of Mtanga. The Nyanja bogy, Chiruwi (the word is translated in Scott’s Dictionary, ‘a mysterious thing’), is probably the same as Chitowe; he is constructed as above described, and, in addition, carries an axe. He is in the habit of meeting travellers and wrestling with them in lonely places; if the traveller falls, ‘he returns no more to his village—he dies.’ If, on the contrary, he throws Chiruwi, he says, ‘I will kill you, Chiruwi,’ and Chiruwi entreats for his life, promising to show the man ‘lots of medicines.’ Then the man lets him go, ‘and Chiruwi goes on before and says this tree is for such a disease, and that tree is for such a disease’—in short, gives him a lecture on materia medica, which proves exceedingly useful.
Mbona of Tyolo seems to have been one of these local deities. Mr. Rowley says that he was supposed to be the supreme ruler of the Anyanja, superior to the Rundo, or Paramount Chief, who consulted him in all special emergencies. This was done through the medium of Mbona’s wife—a woman chosen for the purpose, who lived in a solitary hut on Tyolo Mountain—or elsewhere, for ‘he was thought to be ubiquitous,’ and huts on other mountains were consecrated to his service. ‘He was spoken of as having a visible presence, but no one could say they had actually seen him or heard him.... If the Rundo wished for Bona’s advice, he or his deputies would proceed to the top of the mountain, with horn-blowing and shouting, to make the bride of Bona know of his approach. She then retires to the seclusion of her hut, hears without seeing those who come to her, seeks and finds Bona in sleep, receives from him, in this condition, that which he wishes her to declare, and when she awakes she declares to the expectant people the message Bona has given her to deliver.’ As Mbona’s wife was thus condemned to solitude for the rest of her days, the position was naturally not much coveted, and the Rundo usually had women kidnapped to fill it. Mr. Macdonald, some twenty years later, merely refers to this spirit in passing, as a ‘local deity.’ The word appears now to be used as a common noun, in the following senses: (1) ‘A wonder,’ (2) ‘something desirable’, (3) ‘one who looks after people or things’—as the overseer at the namwali ceremonies, which will be referred to later on, and (4) ‘a witness.’ It may be connected with the verb bona, meaning ‘to look at’ (in Nyanja, ona is ‘to see’); and possibly (3) is or was used as the name of the spirit. I cannot help wondering whether a story I once heard, of an old woman living on Morambala, who kept a number of spirits shut up in her house, has any reference to this tradition. I once, at Blantyre, questioned some Chikundas from the River about this old woman, and they said that they had heard of her, and that her name was Mbonda. I knew nothing about Mbona at the time, and perhaps misheard Mbonda instead of it; the sounds are not unlike, if both o‘s are pronounced open. The application of the spirit’s name to the woman is just the sort of confusion that might arise when a tradition is falling into oblivion. About the same time (in 1894) I heard of another old woman living in a cave on Malabvi—a mountain a few miles east of Blantyre. No European had been able to acquire the land in the immediate neighbourhood, as the people refused to sell it during her lifetime. It has since occurred to me that she might have been one of ‘Mbona’s wives.’
I do not think that, as a rule, the Bantu have much notion of anything that can be called a devil, or, indeed, of evil spirits as such; the spirits of the dead seem to be thought of as beneficent or hostile, according to their dispositions when alive, or the behaviour of the survivors. Dr. Hetherwick says, ‘While there is no trace of a devil in the Mang’anja faith, they have the ziwanda, who are ... the mizimu of men and women, but who work only ill. They are always feared. Their nature is that of the other mizimu, but they have only the wish to do harm.’ The Wankonde, however, according to Dr. Kerr Cross, ‘firmly believe in a spirit of evil’—Mbasi.
‘In one place Mbasi is a person, an old man, who exercises extraordinary power. He only speaks at night, and to the head-men of the tribe, and during the interview every other voice must be silent and every light extinguished. In Wundale the people believe in such a person as having the power to make lions, and being able to send them off as messengers of evil ... against whom he chooses. His house is surrounded with long grass, in which he keeps his lions as other men keep dogs.’
Coming back to the spirits of the dead, we find that the Yaos use the word lisoka to express that part of a man which survives when he dies; when it is an object of worship, it is called mulungu. These spirits, as we have already seen, are frequently prayed to, and may give evidence of their existence in three ways—by answering the prayers addressed to them, in dreams, and through the prophetess. There are also various means of divination (such as that of the flour already mentioned) and omens, which may be consulted and interpreted by professional diviners.
Every village has its ‘prayer-tree,’ under which the sacrifices are offered. It stands (usually) in the bwalo, the open space which Mr. Macdonald calls the ‘forum,’ and is, sometimes, at any rate, a wild fig-tree.[11] The Wankonde offer prayers—at least their priests (waputi) do—in the sacred groves where the dead are buried. The nearest approach to a temple among the Anyanja is a small hut called kachisi, which is sometimes built near the house of the village chief, if not actually under his eaves—sometimes in the bush, at a short distance from the village. ‘The chief utters the prayers in the house himself, alone, while the people answer by chanted accompaniments and clapping of hands at the door.’ The same sort of ritual was observed in the prayers for rain described by Mr. Rowley. The shower which fell on that occasion was, of course, accepted as an answer to the people’s supplications.
The natives say, ‘A man complains, and the spirits can hear him, but they can have no intercourse with man except in dreams, and in the silent care which they can exercise, having power to lead men, and to watch over them with favour, or when a man is going into danger to turn him back.’ If more explicit communication is needed, they inspire some person, and make him rave (bwebweta); his words are not directly intelligible, but some one is found to interpret them; ‘one man is laid hold of by the spirits that he may tell all people and they may hear.’ The person thus inspired may be a man or a woman—among the Yaos perhaps more frequently the latter.
The dead may manifest themselves in the shape of animals; but this does not happen so often as among the Zulus, who quite expect their deceased relatives to come back, like Cadmus and Harmonia, as ‘bright and aged snakes,’ and are very glad to see them when they do. The Yao theory seems to be that none of the departed will do this, unless they mean to be nasty. ‘If a dead man wants to frighten his wife, he may persist in coming as a serpent. The only remedy for this is to kill the serpent’—which no Zulu in his senses would dream of doing. However, the accidental killing of ‘a serpent belonging to a spirit’ seems to demand some sort of apology. ‘A great hunter generally takes the form of a lion or a leopard; and all witches seem to like the form of a hyena.’ But witches often turn into hyenas without dying first—which belongs to another part of the subject. The Makanga, in the angle between the Shiré and Zambezi, refrain from killing lions, believing that the spirits of dead chiefs enter into them.