But there are some chiefs who have not succeeded to their position by right of birth, but attained it by superior cleverness and energy. Such a man may even be a slave, as was said to have been the case with Chibisa, who, in the early sixties, had much more real power than his neighbour Mankokwe, the Rundo of the Shiré Highlands. This man began by representing himself as possessed by the spirit of Chibisa, a deceased prophetess of note among the Nyungwe tribe, near Tete, whose name he assumed. The Nyungwe believed him, and he gradually obtained a complete ascendency over their chief, Kapichi, finally inducing part of the latter’s people to secede with him and settle at the foot of the Murchison Cataracts. His history may be read in the Rev. H. Rowley’s Story of the Universities’ Mission, where it is related how, at last, he fell in battle, fighting Terere, though without mention of the sand-bullet which killed him—the only thing against which he had no charm.
The unexpected rise of a man like this has often been the agency in breaking up Bantu ‘empires’ like that of Undi. But the new power is seldom permanent, as it does not often happen that such parvenu chiefs leave behind them successors of equal ability; while, having no backing but their own immediate followers, they lack that support of custom and tradition which in normal times will keep a mere average ruler in his place, so long as he does not forfeit it by any act of his own.
The customary order of succession is sometimes set aside, not so much by the tribe collectively (though it, too, being represented by the head-men, has a share in deciding the question), as by the household of the late chief. As both wives and slaves have a personal interest in the appointment of the successor, it is but just that they should have a chance to express their objections, if any. When Malemya of Zomba died, in 1878, his slaves, and many of his head-men, disliked the obvious heir, his younger brother Kumtaja, while the widows openly preferred a nephew, Kasabola. The head-men announced that, if Kumtaja were appointed, the people of the chief’s village would all leave and go to live elsewhere. Kasabola, accordingly, was installed, and took the name of Malemya, while Kumtaja left, taking with him such head-men as would go, and founded a new village not far off. Malemya, finding him an inconvenient neighbour, called in the Angoni, who came and raided Kumtaja’s village in August 1884. He fled first to Lake Chilwa, and then to the Upper Shiré, where he died some years ago.
When the new chief is appointed, some little time is allowed to pass before he is formally inducted. The day is then fixed for him to assume his official title (literally, ‘to enter the name’), after which his old name is never heard again. He is lectured on his duties to his people—which are held to consist chiefly in exercising hospitality, and not beating them too much; and, if he is a Yao of certain families, he is invested with the lisanda, a white head-band with hanging ends. Some Yao chiefs are not entitled to wear the lisanda; while, on the other hand, the right is enjoyed by some minor head-men who belong to the privileged families. It is henceforth worn on all solemn occasions—and sometimes at beer-drinkings—and the chief’s first appearance in it is hailed with songs of rejoicing. The proceedings, as might be expected, end with feasting.
On the Lake a special oblong house, with one side open, is built for the chief’s investiture. The insignia of royalty are here, a red blanket, and a red fez, called chisoti cha zindi—both probably imported.
The chief’s powers are not despotic;[33] he is not supposed to act without consulting his head-men, who represent the general views of the tribe; and he seldom disregards their opinion to any serious extent. Should he persist in doing so, his career would either come to a sudden and violent end, or his people would leave him to seek some more congenial ruler, and he would find himself lord of deserted villages. This is a recognised and constitutional remedy for grievances, and no chief refuses an asylum to such refugees; indeed, it is to his interest to welcome them. Fugitive slaves, on the other hand, are often returned to their masters.
The village head-man settles all local matters, usually with the assistance of the elders or heads of families, who are called his ‘younger brothers.’ He consults them before engaging in war, or undertaking any public work, such as constructing a stockade round the village; but he cannot summon them to work on his own private account, nor exact tribute from them. He settles any disputes among them, but if they are not satisfied with his decision, they can appeal to a higher head-man, or sub-chief, or to the chief himself.
Graver matters are reported by the head-man to the sub-chief, and by him, if necessary, to the chief. The latter holds the head-man responsible for any wrong-doing of his people which may come to his ears, just as the chief in his turn will be held responsible for any aggression of his head-men against outsiders. So far is this principle carried that, when a man has been injured by an inhabitant of a certain village, he and his friends are quite satisfied if they can catch any other man belonging to the same village, whom they will either put to death or hold to ransom till reparation is made.
The mlandu and the ordeal are the two great judicial institutions of Bantu Africa. With the ordeal we have partly dealt elsewhere, but there will be a little more to say about it presently.
Mlandu is a word which may be variously rendered as ‘lawsuit,’ ‘complaint,’ ‘discussion,’ ‘crime,’ and otherwise, according to the context. It is the same thing known as a ‘palaver’ in West Africa, and an indaba by the Zulus. Civil cases are thus settled. The head-man and his ‘younger brothers’ take their seats in the bwalo, and, as a rule, the whole village is assembled, the men sitting on one side, and the women—a little apart—on the other. The accuser speaks first, then the accused, and the various members of the council give their opinions in turn. The speeches are often long and eloquent, and the case may extend over days or even weeks before the head-man gives his decision, or, as the natives say, ‘cuts the case.’ If no decision is come to, or if either party wishes to appeal, the case is transferred to a higher court, and ‘the mlandu spoken’ before the sub-chief or the chief. An important case of this sort is sometimes attended by hundreds of people. The successful party in the suit makes the judge a present out of the damages. Matrimonial cases are settled before a court of this kind—if, for instance, a wife feels herself aggrieved and returns to her relatives. She is represented before the court by her ‘surety.’ The husband may also bring an action for divorce in this way.