The jungle folk of Africa

by Robert H. Milligan

There were two Mpongwe women of Gaboon, Tito and Lucy, whom I used to invite regularly every Saturday to come to my Bible-class on Sunday morning. They were as regular in not coming as I was in inviting them, although they invariably promised to come and their parting salutation was usually: “Well, good-bye, till to-morrow morning.” The truth is that Tito and Lucy were not Bible-class women. They had been taught in our mission school in the early days before the French government forbade the use of English; so they both spoke English fairly well. Lucy was sometimes called the Mpongwe queen, for she was head of the family that had ruled the entire tribe in former days. She became a victim of rum, which sent her to an untimely grave. Her family told me that during the last two years of her life it was doubtful whether she was ever sober. Tito had been the mistress of several white men in succession, who had either died or had gone home never to return, and as a result of her career had acquired heaps of clothes, a miscellaneous assortment of jewelry from glass to gold, and an awful temper.

At length one Sunday morning who should come to my Bible-class but Tito and Lucy!—half an hour before the time. I felt something must have happened, and probably something wrong. For I knew that my invitation had not brought them; still less their promise. That same afternoon I was passing through their town and I stopped to ask them why in the world they had come to Bible-class. Then Tito explained that she had not had any intention of coming and that she had promised me just because “it be proper fashion to say Yes, more than No,” but on Saturday night she had a dream in which an angel had appeared to her or at least had spoken to her from the next room and had told her that she and Lucy “must go to-morrow to Mr. Milligan’s Bible-class.” In the morning she told Lucy the dream and they both decided at once that they would come to the class. Without scruple they could disobey from week to week the mandate of normal conscience, and the moral law of truth, but they rendered absolute obedience to the invalid experience of a dream. Afterwards, however, Tito became a regular attendant and finally she was received into the Gaboon Church and became a faithful Christian. She was by nature generous and she was especially skillful and kind in caring for the sick.

Another woman, Ayenwa, lived in Tito’s town, who had been educated in the mission school but was now living as the mistress of a white man. Ayenwa was a good-looking woman and she had the soft, pleasant voice that is characteristic of the cultivated Mpongwe woman and distinguishes her from other African women. I had talked to Ayenwa more than once and had remonstrated with her in regard to the life she was living. But although she was troubled about it, she had made no change. At length a brother of hers died, and she was greatly afflicted by his death. He was a devout Christian, and before he died he had pleaded with Ayenwa to abandon her present way of living. Much as she loved him she did not yield to his desire and counsel. But not long after his death she came to me and said that she had left the white man and had renounced forever that kind of life; although she was friendless since her brother’s death and did not know how she would get a living. It was owing to a dream.

She told me very earnestly and in beautiful language how that she had seen her brother in a dream. She had seen him in a forest, but the forest was very beautiful and it was like a great church. He smiled when he saw her and he called her by her name. She cried when she saw him and she told him how she missed him. He told her not to weep for he was very happy and was never sick any more. But he told her to remember his dying words to her, and so to live that when she died she would come to him and then they would never be separated any more. For several days the dream was always in her mind. Then she resolved that at any cost she would forsake evil and do right. And surely God would take care of her.

Ancestor-worship is the highest form of African fetishism, and it is only called fetishism because the ancestor’s skull or other part of the body is the medium of communication. In general it indicates reverence towards age; and this is a striking characteristic of the African. Yet I have known of an instance where an old woman was afraid that her son would kill her in order to procure the help and favour which she could render him after death. It is quite likely that such things really happen. At any rate love is not the apparent motive in ancestor-worship; it is simply the hope of gain by obtaining their favour.

The usual fetish of ancestor-worship is the skull of the father, which the son keeps in a box. The father occasionally speaks to the son in dreams and frequently communicates with him by omens. He helps him in all his enterprises, good and evil, and secures his success in love, in hunting and in war. All those who have these skulls are a secret society, which, as I have said, is powerful to rule and to tyrannize over others.

Young boys are initiated into this society by rites and ceremonies that are revolting. The initiation varies widely in different tribes and even in the same town there is no uniform ceremony. No white man could ever witness the ceremony, and there are very few natives that would tell him all about it. But a general idea he may get from some; and single details from others at different times. In the mild ceremony of the more civilized Fang towns, the boy who is to be initiated is made very drunk and taken blindfolded to the bush, to a place set apart for the use of the society. The ceremony continues several days. In one part of it the bandage is removed from his eyes at midnight, a low fire is burning which gives a feeble light, and he finds himself surrounded by the members of the society with faces and bodies frightfully distorted and all the skulls of their ancestors exposed to view, together with the heads of persons who have recently died. Some one asks him what he sees. He replies that he sees only spirits and solemnly declares that these are not men.

Boys are often initiated against their will. One of my schoolboys, a handsome lad of about fifteen, during a vacation was initiated and died before it was over. It is his initiation that I have just described—at least the very small part of it that I was able to find out. His death made them more unwilling to tell me. His initiation lasted several days during which he was compelled to remain in the bush. Further up the river a boy, during the initiation, is usually placed for several days in a house alone, after being made to look at the sun so long that sometimes he faints, and when he is taken into the house he cannot at first see anything. Meantime the door is closed and they all go away. Gradually he sees things around him and at length discovers opposite him a corpse, in an early stage of decomposition. He is kept there day and night during the ceremony. The men visit him and subject him to all sorts of indignities in order to impress him with the necessity of absolute obedience to the society. They defile him with filth, and that the vilest of filth. But I presume that the reader will gladly excuse me from any further description of this disgusting practice. One cannot omit all reference to such things if he would describe the African as he really is.

They believe that the skull of the father or other ancestor when it has been properly prepared becomes the residence of the ancestor, who, however, is not confined to it, but wanders about returning to it as to his home. The son, in order to avoid the wrath of the departed father, and to obtain his help, will keep the skull comfortably warm and dry, occasionally rubbing it with oil and redwood powder, and will feed it bountifully. The process of feeding it is interesting. The son before going on a hunting expedition will open the box, and addressing his father in audible words will ask his favour and will promise that in return for success he will give him a goodly portion of the game. If he should neglect this duty for a length of time he may find when he meets an animal in the forest that his gun will not fire, and he may even find himself helpless before his enemies. The white man knowing the kind of guns they use, does not think it necessary to go so far for an explanation of the fact that they often fail in a critical moment. When the son returns with game he will again open the box and place the meat before the skull. Then he will close the house against all possibility of intrusion and he himself will go away while the father eats. After a while he comes back, and although he finds the meat exactly as he left it, he supposes that in some mysterious way his father has eaten it and yet left it, that is, has eaten the spirit of it. He then eats it himself, sharing it also with the men of the society. But since it has been offered to the dead father it is now sacred, and he cannot allow his wife or children to taste it under any circumstances. The men, being of a religious turn of mind, offer to the father, all, or nearly all, the game they procure, and if women and children are left hungry they can at least admire the fervent piety of husbands and fathers.