After making blood-brotherhood between the head-men, there was enacted another performance called bakia lolelembe: a medicine man took a palm frond, split it and put one half of the frond across the path leading from Monsembe to the upper towns—the towns of the contracting parties. This was not only a sign that all that palaver was finished, but it was a fetish having power, it was supposed, to punish anyone who broke the treaty. It was firmly believed that the side that renewed that quarrel would get the worst of it by wounds and death. Perhaps this is the history of many a tribal fight in Africa—alarm, attack, defeat, pursuit, cannibal feasts, and the making of peace by blood-brotherhood.
Congo boys are the most inquisitive animals that I have yet met in Africa. Crocodiles, when boats were new to the Congo, would follow them for hours in their attempts to investigate the strange object; goats and sheep were always ready to poke their noses at new things that came within their purview, but their curiosity was quickly satisfied. Congo boys (and in a minor degree the girls also) were never wearied of watching us at work, following us about to see what we would do next, and asking about our tools, etc., and why we did this or that in such a way, and did not accomplish the same result by some other mode of procedure. They would stand about our table while we were at meals, and pass critical remarks on our manner of eating, slyly imitating the action of our jaws as we masticated our food, or mimic our gestures as we conversed with one another. We seemed to live, move, and pass our existence in the full glare of public gaze like fish in a glass tank.
One never-ending source of delight to them was to scan our countenances as we read. They noticed every alteration of facial expression as the “books talked to us.” If we burst out laughing at some witticism in our reading they would laugh heartily in sympathy with us, and would poke one another, saying: “The book is talking some funny thing to them.” When their shyness had passed away they would ask: “What does the book say to make you laugh?” Occasionally the bit of wit came within the scope of their comprehension, and of our knowledge of the language, and they would enjoy it as much as we did, showing they had a ready wit and enjoyed a hearty laugh; and we felt encouraged, for there is some hope for a people that can laugh joyously and boisterously.
At times they would creep behind us, and looking earnestly at the open page, they would cock their ears to listen intently for any sound, and seeing nothing but a blurred page, and hearing no sounds, they would insinuatingly ask: “White man, how does the book talk to you? and can you make it talk to us?” We would then explain the system of letters and syllables, etc.; but would, at the same time, express a doubt as to their ability to learn to read.
“Cannot you give us some ‘medicine’ to make us understand the ‘book’ talk?” they would pleadingly ask of us.
“No,” we replied; “there is no ‘medicine’ that can give you such wisdom. You must learn letter by letter, and of course you have no brains for such work. What is the use of wasting time in teaching you?”
If we had exhibited any special eagerness to teach them, they would have held back; but chaffing them and pretending that they had not enough brains to learn had the desired effect of putting them on their mettle, and they begged us to start school right away. We showed no hurry to fall in with their wishes, and this only piqued them and made them more desirous of having a school. At last we acceded to their repeated requests, and told them that on the day that followed the next “rest-day” (i.e. on Monday next), we would begin school and hold it every morning for five days a week.
The eventful morning dawned, and with it about twenty lads arrived to enter upon the mysteries of the white man’s “book.” At that time I was busy building a suitable house in anticipation of my wife’s arrival, so my colleague, Mr. Stapleton, took charge of the new school. His room was the school-house. We had written out the alphabet in large letters, and had prepared some slips from which they might copy. We opened a box containing some slates and pencils. The school-house and apparatus were in keeping with the scholars, but the latter brought with them a large amount of enthusiasm and determination, so what was lacking in school furniture, and in the attire of our pupils, was made up in the willingness and earnestness of the scholars.
The adults were almost as greatly excited as the boys. They watched every movement of the teacher, and tried to imitate the sounds of the various letters. As I passed to and fro at my work I could see the door and windows crowded by the throng of onlookers, and could hear their laughable attempts at learning. Two hours at this kind of teaching thoroughly exhausted my colleague, for there were not only twenty sprightly boys to look after, but a crowd of men and women who demanded no little attention. In a week or two the newness of the school wore away, fewer adults gathered around the doors and windows, and some of the lads, finding that there really was no “medicine” to drink imparting to them book knowledge, no royal road to learning, but that it entailed continuous effort, gave up coming, and by the end of a fortnight only about half the original class was left—but they were worth teaching, and they persevered until they became good scholars and afterwards teachers of others.
During nearly thirty years’ teaching of Congo youths, both on the Lower and Upper River, I have noticed that up to the age of fourteen or fifteen the boys and girls—especially the boys—are very receptive, and are easily taught; but after that age comparatively few make real advance in learning. By the age of fourteen they have arrived at puberty, and after that they have to make a continuous effort to retain any book knowledge they may have received. This may be due in some measure to their thoughts being centred on other matters, as trade journeys, fishing, and hunting on their own account, and later to building their houses, looking about for a wife, and procuring the necessary articles for paying the marriage money, and meeting the expenses of the feasts, etc.