The peculiar etiquette which has been mentioned lies in the social conduct of those who are related to each other by marriage and not by blood. After a man is married, he may not speak familiarly to his wife’s mother, nor even look upon her face, and this curious custom is called “being ashamed of the mother-in-law.” If he wishes to speak to her, he must retire to some distance, and carry on his communication by shouting: which, as has been truly said, is certainly no hardship to a Kaffir. Or, if the communication be of a nature that others ought not to hear, the etiquette is thought to be sufficiently observed provided that the two parties stand at either side of a fence over which they cannot see.
If, as is often the case, the man and his mother-in-law happen to meet in one of the narrow paths that lead from the kraal to the gardens and cultivated fields, they must always pretend not to see each other. The woman generally looks out for a convenient bush, and crouches behind it, while the man carefully holds his shield to his face. So far is this peculiar etiquette carried that neither the man nor his mother-in-law is allowed to mention the name of the other. This prohibition must in all places be exceedingly awkward, but it is more so in Kaffirland, where the name which is given to each individual is sure to denote some mental or physical attribute, or to be the name of some natural object which is accepted as the embodiment of that attribute.
Supposing, then, that the name of the man signified a house, and that the name of his mother-in-law signified a cow, it is evident that each must be rather embarrassed in ordinary conversation. Persons thus situated always substitute some other word for that which they are forbidden to pronounce, and that substitution is always accepted by the friends. Curiously circumlocutory terms are thus invented, and very much resemble the euphemisms which prevail both in Northern America and Northern Europe. In such a case as has been mentioned, the man might always speak of a cow as the “horned one,” and the woman would use the word “dwelling” or “habitation” instead of “house.”
As, moreover, a man has generally a considerable number of mothers-in-law, it is evident that this rule must sometimes be productive of much inconvenience, and cause the memory to be always on the stretch. How such a man as Panda, who has at least a thousand mothers-in-law, contrives to carry on conversation at all, is rather perplexing. Perhaps he is considered to be above the law, and that his words are as irresponsible as his actions. The reader may perhaps remember that a similar custom prevails throughout the greater part of Polynesia.
KAFFIR PASSING HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW.
The wife, again, is interdicted from pronouncing the name of her husband, or that of any of his brothers. This seems as if she would be prevented from speaking to him in familiar terms, but such is not really the case. The fact is, that every Kaffir has more than one name; and the higher the rank, the greater the number of names. At birth, or soon afterward, a name is given to the child, and this name has always reference to some attribute which the child is desired to possess, or to some circumstance which has occurred at the time.
For example, a child is sometimes called by the name of the day on which it is born, just as Robinson Crusoe called his servant Friday. If a wild beast, such as a lion or a jackal, were heard to roar at the time when the child was born, the circumstance would be accepted as an omen, and the child called by the name of the beast, or by a word which represents its cry. Mr. Shooter mentions some rather curious examples of these names. If the animal which was heard at the time of the child’s birth were the hyæna, which is called impisi by the natives, the name of the child might be either U’mpisi, or U-huhu, the second being an imitative sound representing the laugh-like cry of the hyæna. A boy whose father prided himself on the number of his stud, which of course would be very much increased when his son inherited them, called the child “Uso-mahashe,” i. e. the father of horses. This child became afterward a well-known chief in the Natal district. A girl, again, whose mother had been presented with a new hoe just before her daughter was born, called the girl “Uno-ntsimbi,” i. e. the daughter of iron. The name of Panda, the king of the Zulu tribes, is in reality “U-mpande,” a name derived from “impande,” a kind of root.
These birth-names are known by the title “igama,” and it is only to them that the prohibitive custom extends. In the case of a chief, his igama may not be spoken by any belonging to his kraal; and in the case of a king, the law extends to all his subjects. Thus, a Kaffir will not only refuse to speak of Panda by his name, but when he has occasion to speak of the root impande, he substitutes another word, and calls it “ingxabo.”
A Kaffir does not like that a stranger should even hear his igama, for he has a hazy sort of idea that the knowledge might be used for some evil purpose. One of my friends, who lived in Kaffirland for some years, and employed a considerable number of the men, never could induce any of them to tell him their igama, and found that they would always prefer to be called by some English name, such as Tom, or Billy. At last, when he had attained a tolerable idea of the language, he could listen to their conversation, and so find out the real names by which they addressed each other. When he had mastered these names, he took an opportunity of addressing each man by his igama, and frightened them exceedingly. On hearing the word spoken, they started as if they had been struck, and laid their hands on their mouths in horrified silence. The very fact that the white man had been able to gain the forbidden knowledge affected them with so strong an idea of his superiority that they became very obedient servants.