The Political Organization of Unyamwezi (Cambridge Studies in Social and Cultural Anthropology)

Cambridge Studies in Social Anthropology

NO. I THE POLITICAL ORGANIZATION OF UNYAMWEZI

Cambridge Studies in Social Anthropology General Editors M. FORTES, E. R. LEACH, J. R. GOODY

THE POLITICAL ORGANIZATION OF UNYAMWEZI BY

R.G.ABRAHAMS Assistant Lecturer in Anthropology in the University of Cambridge

W

CAMBRIDGE AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 1967

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 8RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521040013 © Cambridge University Press 1967 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 1967 This digitally printed version 2007 A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 67-12842 ISBN 978-0-521-04001-3 hardback ISBN 978-0-521-04059-4 paperback

CONTENTS List of Tables

page vi

List of Illustrations

vii

Foreword by Professor Meyer Fortes

ix

Preface

xiii

i

The People and their Country

2

The Historical Background

3i

3

The External Situation

48

4

The Structure of the Chiefdom

62

5

The Business of Government

99

6

Mechanisms of Continuity

106

7

Rulers and Subjects

128

8

Neighbourhood and Politics

158

9

Conclusions

173

i

Appendix A: List of Chiefdoms in Unyamwezi

187

Appendix B: Nyamwezi Kinship Terminology

188

Bibliography

191

Index

196

[v]

LIST OF TABLES 1 Component areas of Unyamwezi 2 The main tribes of Unyamwezi from the census of 1957

page 2 2

3 Tribal composition of the population in 1957: (a) Tabora District, (b) Nzega District, (c) eastern Kahama District

3, 4

4 Non-African population of Unyamwezi and western Kahama District, 1957

7

5 Butumwa homesteads, 1958

16

6 Relationship between size of population and territorial hierarchy in four chiefdoms

64

7 Data concerning the immediate predecessors in office and the fathers of ten Nyamwezi chiefs

67

8 Data on the previous occupations, education, age and length of tenure of office of chiefs, as at early i960: (a) Tabora District chiefs, (b) Nzega District chiefs, (c) Nyamwezi chiefs in Kahama District 69, 70 9

Education of Nyamwezi chiefs

71

10 Information on the age, education and previous occupations of seventeen village headmen in Busangi chiefdom

87

11 Civil and criminal cases in Kahama District

101

12 Religion of Nyamwezi chiefs

105

13 Salaries of chiefs in some Kahama District chiefdoms in 1960

132

14 Sukuma immigration into Ngaya, 1948-57 15 Busangi chiefdom court, 1958: (a) criminal cases, (b) civil cases

152

[vi]

162

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PLATES Between pages 56 and 57 The chiefs of Kahama and Karitu (a) The royal drums of Busangi chiefdom (b) Some of the royal regalia of Busangi chiefdom (a) A Rongo blacksmith preparing an arrow-shaft (b) A public performance by members of one of the local snake-charming societies (a) Villagers helping to construct a neighbour's house in Busangi chiefdom (b) The chief of Uyui receiving the Governor of Tanganyika

FIGURES 1 2 3 4 5

Map of Unyamwezi Plan of Bukumi extended homestead Structure of the largest homestead in Butumwa, 1957-8 Plan of Butumwa village, July 1959 Plan of part of Kagela village, Uyui, March 1959

6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

page xvi 14 16 17 19

The chiefdoms of Tabora District The chiefdoms of Nzega District The chiefdoms of eastern Kahama District The relationship between the chiefs of Uyui and Busagari The relationship between the chiefs of Kahama and Busangi Busangi chiefs Ibili chiefs Kahama chiefs Ulyankulu chiefs The relationship between the headman of Busangi village cluster and his chief 16 The relationship between the headman of Mpangala village cluster and the rightful successor to the office 17 The relationship of Nzuki's line to that of the chiefs of Busangi [vii]

28 29 30 59 59 68 68 69 69 73 74 74

viii

List of Illustrations

18 The link between the headman of Gula village cluster and Ntobo's page chiefly line 75 19 The relationship between the ruling lines of Ntobo and Busangi 76 20 Some members of Uyui ruling family, 1959 76 21 The relationship between the headman of Kibama village and Ntabo, former headman of Mpangala 80 22 The relationship between the chief of Ngaya and his reinstated headman Petelo 83 23 The links between three segments of the ruling family of Busangi chiefdom 93 24 The nobles of Butumwa village, 1959 94 25 Chief Mashimba's version of his relationship to Maganga 112 Note The following customary symbols are used in the kinship diagrams in the text: . , A male O female = marriage tie Horizontal lines represent sibling ties and vertical lines represent filial ties. A distinction between living and dead persons is only made in those diagrams in which it is specifically indicated.

FOREWORD BY MEYER FORTES William Wyse Professor of Social Anthropology, University of Cambridge

The Cambridge Studies in Social Anthropology come as a natural extension of the Cambridge Papers in Social Anthropology. Like the Papers, they are

intended to be representative of the research and scholarship in Social Anthropology that is carried on in the Department of Archaeology and Anthropology at Cambridge. The Papers have served to make available to students of Social Anthropology the results of some of our shorter studies and seminar discussions. The monograph series will, it is hoped, be a parallel channel for the publication of the larger studies which are rapidly accumulating in our departmental archives. These studies have, for the most part, grown out of theses submitted for post-graduate degrees; but it is not intended that the monographs should be restricted to this source of supply. Post-graduate theses in Social Anthropology are normally based on original research in the field; and our main aim is to ensure the publication of field-work studies that would otherwise remain inaccessible to the world of anthropological learning. Monograph studies by other hands than those of our research students will therefore, we hope, also find a place in the series. We are fortunate in being able to launch the series with Dr Abrahams's study of Nyamwezi political organization. The Nyamwezi are the second largest ethnic group in what was formerly the territory of Tanganyika, now Tanzania. They are bound to play an important part in the political and social development of that country. They have long been known to students of East African ethnology and history, partly from reports by missionaries and administrators on their customs and institutions, and partly from earlier accounts of contacts with them by nineteenth-century travellers and explorers. These sources have been invaluable for Dr Abrahams's study. Amplified with the oral traditions he was able to elicit on the spot, they provide the material for the historical retrospect which forms the starting point for his inquiry. However, his book is neither a history nor an antiquarian ethnology, but a study in contemporary political anthropology. It is an analysis of the Nyamwezi political system as it could be seen in operation just before Tanzania achieved independent nationhood in 1961. [ix]

x

Foreword

Political anthropology hardly existed as a special discipline in the general framework of social anthropology before the last war. Not surprisingly, it began as a distinctively British development. It was stimulated in part by the concern with the indigenous institutions of government and law which anthropologists, working in the then colonial territories, encountered amongst administrative officers charged with implementing the philosophy of Indirect Rule. But it owed much also to a new theoretical orientation, which had more affinities with the tradition of juristic and political inquiry typified by such scholars as Maine and Maitland, than with the more orthodox ethnological frame of reference. After the war came the additional spur of opportunities for field research in the local research institutes newly established in, for instance, Central, East, and West Africa, largely with finance provided under the Colonial Development and Welfare Act. Indeed, it was under the auspices of the East African Institute of Social and Economic Research in Uganda that Dr Abrahams carried out his field research. At all events, political anthropology is now a fully fledged branch of social anthropology; and Dr Abrahams's book is a good example of its methods and scope. As to the former, it is characteristic of political anthropology that its data are obtained by direct observation and inquiry in the homes, villages, courts of law and centres of administration of the peoples in question. Without such inquiries, for example, Dr Abrahams could not have elucidated, as he has so skilfully done, the interplay between hereditary eligibility and modern processes of selection in the appointment of chiefs and headmen. A more revealing instance is his account of the role of the millet threshing group in the Nyamwezi political order. Only by direct observation in the field could he have discovered that such an apparently ad hoc and casual harvest bee serves, in fact, as a focus of conflict between neighbourhood loyalty and the obligations of citizenship in the chiefdom—and has been, in consequence, the ideal vehicle for the entry into local politics of the new national political parties. It should be emphasized that this method is not necessitated by the lack of documentary sources in tribal societies. For the Nyamwezi, as for many other African peoples, there is available, in addition to the missionary and travellers' reports previously mentioned, a considerable amount of archival material in the form of administrative and legal records and reports stretching back to the end of the last century. The method follows from the concern of political anthropology with the actualities of political behaviour in its contemporary institutional

Foreword

xi

framework and its connexions with other aspects of social structure. The documentary material is used to give some historical depth to the analysis not as the primary source of data. As to scope, the first aim of studies such as this is to contribute to the growing body of knowledge we now have of the nature and modes of working of indigenous political institutions that have evolved in the pre-industrial and pre-literate tribal societies of the world. Africa provides an extraordinary wealth of material for this undertaking, ranging from the leaderless bands of Bushman hunters and collectors, through the various kinds of acephalous, clan-based polity and the close-knit city-state type, to military kingdoms, trading empires and the different forms of' Divine Kingship' first made famous by Sir James Frazer. The Nyamwezi, like many culturally uniform ethnic groups in Africa, were never united in a single state. Each Nyamwezi chiefdom was formerly, and has remained, autonomous within a loose association of chiefdoms. What is of special interest, however, is the evidence of the progressive secularization of the chiefly office which, at one time, had a purely ritual significance. This process began in the last century with the arrival of Arab traders and slavers, who introduced new commodities, especially guns, and new ways of dealing with chiefs and headmen, was continued under German rule, and was reinforced with new emphases under British Colonial rule. The one-time sacred chief is now an executive and administrative agent for the central government, tax collector, judge and overseer of public works; and neither are his surviving ritual functions nor is his hereditary right to office of importance from his subjects' point of view compared with his ability to govern them justly, generously, and in the common interest. The well-known problem of how a chief keeps a balance between his responsibility to his people and his often contradictory obligations to the central government crops up here. Dr Abrahams's analysis brings out the potential strains in the relationships that now obtain between chiefs, their headmen, the clerks and deputies attached to them as agents of the central government, and the subjects on whose compliance they depend for remaining in office. Among many points of particular anthropological interest, two stand out in this context. One is the well-documented change from a matrilineal rule of succession to a patrilineal one for chiefs as their office became secularized and tied to the external demands of the colonial regimes. The other is the clear recognition of a distinction between neighbourhood relations, based on mutual goodwill and amity, and the

xii Foreword relations of citizenship at the level of the chiefdom, based on legally defined concepts of right and duty. Neighbourly disputes thus get settled in the informal tribunal of the neighbourhood, whereas torts and crimes that are subject to the law of the state must be taken to the headman's and chief's court. This observation confirms descriptions of a similar structural division in other East African tribal polities. Its importance lies in the explanation it suggests for the integration of the kinship sphere of social relations into the widest political and jural domain of citizenship. Neighbourhood, being compounded of kinship elements and locality, is the political transition zone, so to speak. It is the bridge between, on the one hand, the extensive network of more personal family and kinship relations, which give a person his basic status in society, and within the confines of which the major part of his economic activities and social life are carried on; and, on the other, the more impersonal sphere of his citizenship in the chiefdom which depends on his territorial rather than his kinship status. Many other matters of theoretical importance for political anthropology are examined in Dr Abrahams's book. But that is not the sole reason why I consider it to be specially fortunate that we are able to launch our monograph series with it. Political anthropology has a double responsibility. It must contribute to our scientific knowledge of the varieties of political institutions devised for their maintenance by human groups of the vastly different technological and cultural levels revealed by anthropological research. It must also, however, help to enlighten the peoples, whose ways of life we take the liberty of studying and describing, about their political history and institutions. In this way we can provide some feedback from anthropological field research to the tasks of political construction that today confront the new nations of Africa at all social levels from the * grass-roots' of family organization up to the very pinnacle of the national legislative and executive structure. Dr Abrahams develops his analysis with such scrupulous care for the reliability of his data and with such lucidity and coherence in the presentation, that he cannot fail to win the commendation of his Nyamwezi friends and instructors.

PREFACE The fieldwork upon which this account of political organization in Unyamwezi is based was carried out between October 1957 and February i960. During this time I was employed as a Junior Research Fellow of the East African Institute of Social Research at Makerere, Kampala, Uganda. The present work is a revised version of the Ph.D. dissertation which I submitted to the University of Cambridge in September 1962. From October 1957 until July 1958 I worked mainly in the village of Butumwa in the Busangi chiefdom of Kahama District, Western Province, Tanganyika (now Tanzania). This work was followed by a short period of study centred upon Kahama Town. At the beginning of November 1958 I moved south to the chiefdom of Uyui in Tabora District, first living at chiefdom headquarters and then moving to the village of Kagela some six miles away. In April 1959 I moved to the related chiefdom of Ibili, also in Tabora District, where I spent about a month. During this time I was able to attend the installation of the chief of the neighbouring chiefdom of Busagari. In June 1959, after a journey to the coast which was partly spent in studying the Nyamwezi living there, I returned once more to Butumwa village in Busangi chiefdom. During my stay there I was able to study at first hand the political unrest which led to the downfall of the neighbouring chief of Ngaya. I left Butumwa in February i960 to return to England. In addition to living in the places described above, I also travelled reasonably extensively in Unyamwezi. This was made possible by my possession of a Land-Rover which I bought with the generous help of a Makerere loan. A considerable amount of supplementary material was collected on these journeys. Some time was also spent at the East African Institute of Social Research in attending conferences and in preliminary writing up of some aspects of my work. For the most part, fieldwork was carried out through the medium of the Swahili language, in which I fairly soon became fluent. My knowledge of the Nyamwezi language itself was never very strong. In the context of the present work, however, this did not constitute too great a disadvantage since most of the people who were actively involved in Nyamwezi political organization were good Swahili-speakers. The people living in the villages near Tabora were, in fact, found to be [ xiii ]

xiv

Prefcace

bilingual in their everyday conversation. Swahili was, moreover, the official language for relationships between the people and the Central Government. During the large part of my fieldwork I also employed assistants who were able to interpret for me to and from Nyamwezi when necessary. It is a not uncommon feature of present-day anthropological research that the material of study has changed before a detailed account of it can be prepared, and this seems to be specially so in the field of political organization. This has happened in Unyamwezi. In December 1961, Tanganyika, as it then was, became an independent country and in 1962 and 1963 legislation was passed which involved changes in the position of the Native Authority chiefs. Among the most important points in these changes has been the facilitation of the dismissal of unpopular chiefs at the request of the subject body. Democratic local councils axe being established and these will take the place of chiefs who die, resign, or are deposed. Chiefs may still be chosen for the performance of 'purely traditional' functions, and it is likely that ritual duties are meant here. It is also hoped that some chiefs will be reemployed as court-holders. The legislation in question is discussed in J. S. R. Cole and W. N. Denison, Tanganyika: The Development of its Laws and Constitution (London, 1964). I have been unable to take account of these changes in the main body of the present work, and it is therefore necessary to stress that I have used the present tense there as an 'ethnographic present' to refer to the situation which was still pertaining at the time of fieldwork. One aspect of this which perhaps needs mention here is my retention of the name Tanganyika in the text. I sincerely hope that this usage, which is adhered to simply for the sake of consistency and convenience of description, will not give offence to citizens of Tanzania. To close this preface I would like to record my appreciation of the help given to me by various institutions and persons in the course of my research. I must express my thanks to the East African Institute of Social Research which was far more than a place of employment. Everything possible was done there to help to ensure that fieldwork was a pleasurable and useful experience for a research worker. During the period of writing up after fieldwork, I have benefited from muchwelcomed financial help in the form of a grant from Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge; a grant from the Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, Cambridge; and also a State Studentship. In subsequent appointments at University College London and at Cambridge every

Prefcace

xv

opportunity and encouragement has been given me to pursue my work. My various supervisors, Professor Aidan Southall, the late Dr Derrick Stenning, and Dr Audrey Richards, have all been unstinting in their efforts to guide and stimulate my research. I should also like to express my gratitude for the further stimulus which I have received from discussions with and comments by Dr J. H. M. Beattie of the University of Oxford, my Ph.D. examiners Professors M. Fortes and J. Middleton, my fellow workers in East Africa, and members of the graduate seminars in social anthropology at University College London and at Cambridge. The secretarial staff at the Department of Archaeology and Anthropology in Cambridge and also my wife have been of great help in the final preparation of this work. I am also grateful to the International African Institute for permission to include some sections of an article on neighbourhood organization published in their journal Africa.

Lastly, I must record my very deep indebtedness to the many people of all races in Tanzania, and particularly the Nyamwezi themselves, who, in some cases officially and in others in the capacity of personal acquaintances and loyal friends, bore with me and made my work both practicable and enjoyable. I dedicate this volume to my parents. R. G. A. Cambridge August 1966

XVI

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Fig. i. Map of Unyamwezi.

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Balaam

THE PEOPLE AND THEIR COUNTRY INTRODUCTORY

The Nyamwezi are a Bantu-speaking people most of whom live in the Districts of Kahama, Nzega and Tabora in the Western Province of Tanganyika. In the official census of 1957 they were listed as the second largest tribe in Tanganyika with a total membership of 363,258 men, women and children. Of these some 251,902, or roughly 70 per cent, were living in the three Districts mentioned above. The large majority of the remaining 30 per cent were living in the Lake Province and in the coastal areas of the Territory. The reasons for this will become clear in the course of this chapter. I shall use the term Unyamwezi in this work to refer to that area of the Western Province in which the Nyamwezi are, for the most part, both the politically dominant and the numerically preponderant tribe. This area consists of the Tabora and Nzega Districts and the eastern half of Kahama District (see Fig. 1). It is divided into thirty-one mutually independent chiefdoms under the control of Nyamwezi ruling families, and it is in this sense that the Nyamwezi may be said to be politically dominant in the area.1 The western half of Kahama District, though linked administratively with the eastern half, consists of Sumbwa chiefdoms with a mainly Ha and Sumbwa population. Although the Sumbwa are usually treated in the literature as a branch of the Nyamwezi, they appear to be culturally closer to their western neighbours in a number of respects and, in the absence of detailed field material upon the area, I have felt unable to include the Sumbwa chiefdoms in the present study.2 Unyamwezi, as defined above, covers an area of about 34,000 square miles, which gives an average of just under 1,100 square miles per chiefdom. Breakdown according to Administrative Districts is contained in Table 1. These figures reveal considerable differences between the 1

There is a list of these chiefdoms in appendix A. The towns of Tabora, Nzega and Kahama, which are the administrative centres of the region, do not come under the jurisdiction of Nyamwezi chiefs. They are separately administered, as are also a number of smaller commercial settlements. 2 Cf. Cory (19550, passim) for examples of the differences between Nyamwezi and Sumbwa customary law.

2

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

Districts. Wide variations are also found within particular Districts. Thus the largest chiefdom in Tabora District is Unyanyembe which has an area of approximately 10,000 square miles. The smallest chiefdom in Tabora District is Ibili with an area of about 60 square miles. In Nzega District the largest chiefdom is Busongo with an area of 1,400 square miles; the smallest is Mwangoye with an area of 140 square miles. In Kahama District the country is, on the whole, more evenly distributed between the chiefdoms. (See Figs. 6-8 on pp. 28-30.) Table 1. Component areas of Unyamwezi District Area (sq. miles) No. of chiefdoms Average area of chiefdoms (sq. miles)

Tabora

Nzega

Kahama (eastern half)

25,000 11 2,273

5,600 8 700

3,500 12 292

Table 2. The main tribes of Unyamwezi from the census 0/1957* Tribe

Numbers

Nyamwezi Sukuma Sumbwa Tusi Iramba

242,687 61,758 34,309 17,647 I7,3H

Percentage of total population 54 14

8 4 4

* A small number of Sukuma, Tusi and Iramba may have been excluded from these figures by their inclusion under the category 'Unclassified' in some census areas.

The size of population also varies greatly from one chiefdom to another. Thus in 1957 the chiefdom with the largest population in Tabora District was Unyanyembe with 72,964 inhabitants and the smallest was Busagari with a total of 1,322. In Nzega District the largest chiefdom population of 71,551 was in Busongo and the smallest of 8,946 was in Unyambiyu. In Kahama District the largest population was in Kahama chiefdom with 32,465 inhabitants, and the smallest, about 600, was in Bulungwa. The similarity between the sizes of the population of Busongo and Unyanyembe, despite the disparity of their areas, reveals differences in the population density from chiefdom to chiefdom, as does the fact that in Tabora and Nzega Districts the geo-

The People and their Country

3

graphically smallest chiefdoms are not the ones with the smallest populations. Thus in Nzega District, Mwangoye chiefdom with an area of 140 square miles has a population of 14,176, whereas Unyambiyu with an area of 750 square miles has only 8,964 inhabitants. Important factors influencing population density are the presence of tsetse fly, the establishment of forest reserves, and the availability of water. According to official census figures, the total African population of Unyamwezi numbered 452,523 in 1957. The main features of the tribal composition of this population can be seen in Table 2. Tables 3 (a), 3 (b), and 3 (c) give some picture ofthe local distribution of tribes in the region.1 It is, in fact, impossible to find a chiefdom in which less than four tribes are represented. Everywhere the Nyamwezi tend to be the largest tribe, though there are one or two local exceptions to this rule. Some tribes, such as the Iramba and Kimbu, are found mainly in those chiefdoms which border their own country. The distribution of Sukuma and Sumbwa is more even. Tusi are found wherever the herding of cattle is possible. The case of Busangi chiefdom in Kahama District will serve as an example of the distribution of tribes within a chiefdom. Out of a total 1957 population of4,7ii, Nyamwezi numbered 2,3 59; Sukuma were 1,080; Sumbwa 973; Rongo 119; Tusi 106; and all others 74. Table 3 (a). Tribal composition of the population of Tabora District, 1957* Tribe

Numbers

Nyamwezi Tusi Sumbwa Kimbu Konongo

70,421 11,105

Ha

Sukuma Manyema Fipa Unclassified All tribes

9,739 9,697 9,271

8,053 6,183 5,192 2,192

30,145 161,998

Percentage of total population 43 7 6 6 6 5 4 3 1

19 100

* These figures include the African population of Tabora Town which is made up as follows: Nyamwezi, 3,660; Manyema, 2,016; Sukuma, 526; Zaramo, 436; Bemba, 328; Tusi, 293; Nyasa, 256; Ngoni, 251; Fipa, 245; Yao, 242; Sumbwa, 234; unclassified, 3,518. Total, 12,005. 1

Gulliver (1959) gives a useful general discussion of the concept of tribe in Tanganyika. As used here the term refers primarily to the groups to which people assigned themselves in the census.

4

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

Table 3 (b). Tribal composition of the population ofNzega District, 1957* Tribe

Numbers

Nyamwezi Sukuma Iramba Sumbwa Tusi Kimbu Unclassified All tribes

119,760 42,531 I7,3H 9,7H 4,413 2,406 7,620 203,755

Percentage of total population 59 21

8 5 2 1

4 100

* These figures include the population of the town of Nzega, for which separate figures were not available in the 1957 census. In 1952 the African population of the town was 351. Cf. Handbook of Tanganyika (1958, p. 279). It was still small at the time of fieldwork.

Table 3 (c). Tribal composition of the population of eastern Kahama District, 1957* Tribe

Numbers

Nyamwezi Sumbwa Sukuma Tusi Rongo Unclassified All tribes

52,506 14,856 13,044 2,129 1,049 3,196 86,780

Percentage of total population 61 17 15 2 1

4 100

* Because of the problem of abstracting figures for part of an Administrative District from the 1957 census, the category 'Unclassified' probably includes here a few Sukuma, Tusi and Rongo. The figures include the African population of Kahama Town, which was given in the census as follows: Nyamwezi, 690; Sumbwa, 238; unclassified, 550. Total, 1,478.

Many of the tribes represented in the area have territories which border upon Unyamwezi. To the north-west lie the Sumbwa and the Ha, who form the southern fringe of the interlacustrine group of tribes. Although Seligman grouped the Nyamwezi with the Interlacustrine Bantu, this classification has more recently been abandoned and Gulliver ascribes them to a distinct category of Western Bantu of Tanganyika.1 There is good reason for this change, since the Nyamwezi are historically and linguistically distinct from the interlacustrine tribes. To the 1

Seligman (1930, p. 213), Gulliver (1959, p. 66). Cf. also Richards (19600, p. 27).

The People and their Country

5

west lie the Vinza and the Tongwe, and to the south-west and south the Bende, Konongo and Kimbu. The Kimbu appear to be an older tribe than the Nyamwezi and some of the Nyamwezi royal families claim Kimbu origin. Those Kimbu who live in Tabora District tend to be classed as Nyamwezi and speak a language only dialectically different from their northern neighbours. Those living in the Manyoni District of Central Province, however, are considered to be more distantly related and speak a language apparently related to that of the Hehe. To the east lie the Gogo, the Nyaturu and the Iramba. It appears that some Iramba ruling families claim to be Kimbu in origin but the Nyamwezi consider them to be a distinct people.1 Nilo-Hamitic Taturu are also found to the east. None of these tribes can speak or understand Nyamwezi merely from a knowledge of their own language.* This is not the case, however, with the Sukuma, who are the northern neighbours of the Nyamwezi, and it will be worth while to say something here about the relationship between the two tribes. There is no doubt that the Nyamwezi and Sukuma are in many ways a single people. They speak the same language with some differences of dialect, and the dialect of a northern Nyamwezi is closer to that of a southern Sukuma than to that of a southern Nyamwezi. The two tribes are, moreover, very similar to each other both in their general culture and in their political organization.3 In the language of both tribes the word sukuma means North and the tribal name 'Basukuma' literally means the people of the North.4 A possible reason why this name has been attached particularly to the present-day Sukuma is that they themselves possess no northern neighbours, since the northern boundary of Sukumaland is the southern shore of Lake Victoria. The boundary between Unyamwezi and Sukumaland is that between the Western and Lake Provinces of Tanganyika. As one might expect, this boundary is a relatively arbitrary one. Shinyanga District is today in Lake Province though it was for many years a part of Western Province, and the ruling 1 a 3

4

The information on Iramba ruling families is taken from an unpublished report by H. Cory seen at the East African Institute of Social Research. Sumbwa and Kimbu are part exceptions to this rule which is, however, true of Manyoni Kimbu and western Sumbwa. These similarities have been noted by many writers. Cf. Bosch (1930, p. 10), Cory (1953, pp. 1-2; 1955a, p. iii), Malcolm (1953, pp. 10, 21) andLiebenow (i960, p. 231). An important cultural link between the two peoples is their association of the left hand with the male sex. As far as I know, this usage is unique to them in Tanganyika. Cf. Burton (i860, vol. 11, pp. 23, 212-13) and Speke (1864, p. 271). The point has been made by many later writers also. Even today the Nyamwezi of Kahama are commonly described as Basukuma by the people of Tabora District.

6

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

families of some northern Nyamwezi chiefdoms share common descent with some southern Sukuma ruling families.1 In the light of the above discussion one may ask how useful it is to consider Unyamwezi as a separate subject of study. A number of points may be made here. First, the boundary between Unyamwezi and Sukumaland is of great importance, although it is an arbitrary one. The administrative centre of the Western Province is Tabora, which lies about ioo miles south of the boundary between the two Provinces. The administrative centre of the Lake Province is Mwanza, which lies a similar distance to the north of the boundary. Much of the governmental and economic business of the Provinces is directed from these different centres. Thus in many aspects of their life the backs of the two peoples are metaphorically turned upon each other. Secondly, despite the many similarities between the two peoples, there are also certain differences between them. More favourable ecological conditions in Sukumaland have enabled the Sukuma to develop a more powerful economy based on cotton-growing and on cattle-owning. Moreover, the strong Sukuma commoner associations, the basumba batale, are lacking in Unyamwezi and this provides an important distinction between the political systems of the two areas.2 Lastly, although the literature on Sukumaland is both modern and extensive, comparatively little of recent date has been written, particularly in English, on the Nyamwezi.3 There is, however, a second and connected problem. Granted that the Nyamwezi may be treated separately from their northern neighbours, it may still be asked if Unyamwezi itself is homogeneous enough to merit study as a unit. Within Unyamwezi there are regional differences of dialect and social organization.4 Clusters of chiefdoms belong to distinct descent groups, which I shall call dynasties, each claiming separate origin and entry into the area. There is no paramount chief to unify the country. 1 2 3

4

Cf. chapter 2. For an account of these associations see Cory (1954, pp. 77-8 and passim), Revington (1938), and Liebenow (i960, pp. 237-8 and passim). Several important books and articles have been published in English about the Sukuma since 1950: e.g. Cory (1951, 1953, 1954), Liebenow (i960), Malcolm (1953), and Tanner (1955, 1957). The only books to come out on the Nyamwezi during this period are Yongolo's brief general account of 1953 and Cory's 1955 account of customary law, both in Swahili. The most up-to-date major work upon the Nyamwezi in a European language is Bosch (1930). Although published later, Blohm's books of 1931 and 1933 make use of material collected many years beforehand. Cf. chapter 8 for discussion of some regional differences in neighbourhood organization.

The People and their Country

7

Clearly the ultimate solution of this problem lies in the nature of the topic to be studied. The present work is mainly concerned with recent political organization, and from this point of view Unyamwezi itself appears to be a more useful unit for discussion than any of its subdivisions. The basic political units, the chiefdoms, possess similar laws, structures and even rituals of succession. They are linked by marriages, joking relationships and common centres of administration. Nyamwezi often move to different chiefdoms within Unyamwezi and are rather less ready to settle outside the area. Finally, the people have a common name and often talk about themselves as 'We Nyamwezi'. 1 Table 4. Non-African population of Unyamwezi and western Kahama District, 1957* District Tabora Nzega Kahama Total

Europeans

Indians

Pakistanis

Arabs

Others

Total

594

2,287 36i 335 2,983

240 8 22

847 953 316

555

270

2,116

770

4,523 1,544 839 6,906

115 58 767

107 108

* The category * Others' mainly consists of Somalis, Goans and Coloureds.

To conclude this section of the chapter, a little may be said about nonAfrican inhabitants of Unyamwezi, some ofwhom are actively involved in the political organization of the region. Relevant figures from the 1957 census are set out in Table 4. Owing to the form in which the census data have been published, the figures in the Table include people living in the Sumbwa portion of Kahama District. Most non-Africans in the District are, however, living in the Nyamwezi area, which includes Kahama Town, the administrative centre of the District. The vast majority of the Europeans are engaged in governmental or mission work. The Indians, Pakistanis, and Arabs are mainly engaged in trading. Whereas the Indians and Pakistanis, however, tend to reside at the administrative centres, the Arabs are more scattered, many of them owning shops in rural areas. The exploitation of land by non-Africans 1

The people use this expression to distinguish themselves from other tribes, including the Sukuma. The origin of the name Nyamwezi is obscure and has been the subject of much speculation, e.g. that the name means 'of the moon' and is connected with the Ptolemaic 'Mountains of the Moon*. Cf. Bosch (1930, pp. 5-9) for a discussion of this and other views. It appears most likely, however, that the name originally meant ' westerners' and was first used in dealings with the peoples of the coast. Cf. Blohm (1931, p. 8).

8

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

is comparatively rare. It is mostly confined to Tabora District. There, there are two small sizal estates, a dairy farm, an estate of the East African Tobacco Company, and a timber company with extensive timber concessions. There are also a few smallholders in the District. In Kahama District there was formerly a working gold mine which is now out of commission because of flooding. ECONOMY AND ECOLOGY

Unyamwezi is for the most part rolling country levelling out into extensive plains in the north-east and east. Like Sukumaland and much of the neighbouring Central Province it forms part of a wider ecological zone sometimes called the 'cultivation steppe of Tanganyika'.1 Its altitude is about 4,000 feet above sea-level. Outcrops of granite rock are common and occasional hills and low ranges are found. Lower ground is characterized by thorn-bush and becomes swampy and even flooded during the rains. The higher ground, on which the people live and do most of their cultivation, is mainly of the type known as miombo bush country, which is characterized by vegetation of the Brachystegia-Isoberlinia association.2 The soils are predominantly light and granitic. Much of the land is of poor quality. There is normally plenty of land for all who want it, but some localized scarcity occurs. The year falls into two main seasons, a rainy season lasting from around October until April and a dry season from April until October. During the dry season many parts of the country receive no rain at all and no area receives more than a few showers. During the wet season rains fall unpredictably from year to year and place to place. People whose crops have failed because of drought are sometimes able to purchase food from others living a mere ten miles away. The average rainfall is slightly under 3 5 inches per year.3 In the rainy season rivers start to flow but at the height of the dry season there is scarcely any running water in the whole of Unyamwezi and many river beds become quite dry. Although some Tusi do not practise agriculture, the large majority of the inhabitants are primarily farmers whose most regular and continuous 1 2 3

Cf. Rounce (1949). The term miombo is widely used in Tanganyika and derives from an indigenous word for one of the commonest trees found in this sort of country. For more detailed figures see Handbook of Tanganyika (1958, p. 267). The whole of Unyamwezi is shown as an area of'poor prospect' on the rainfall map published with the East African Royal Commission Report of 1955. This map also shows the tsetse distribution in the region.

The People and their Country

9

occupation is the cultivation of their fields during the rainy season. Mixed farming is practised. The people produce a variety of staples including maize, different sorts of millet, sweet potatoes, and cassava. Groundnuts and other crops such as beans are grown as relishes. In suitable areas rice is cultivated. The normal implement of cultivation is the hand-hoe but ox-ploughs are becoming popular where their use is feasible. Most crops, with the exception of rice, are grown in ridged fields. The use of the ridge, lyande, is traditional but the tie-ridge is introduced and not much used. Rice is usually grown in flat plots with low soil walls to keep in rain water but irrigated plots are sometimes found. Most homesteads have some chickens, many have sheep and goats, and some have cattle. There is much loaning out of cattle and this makes it difficult to estimate the number owned by individuals. It appears, however, that roughly one in three homesteads possesses cattle and that an average herd contains between ten and twenty beasts, though occasionally an individual possessing as many as four hundred head is found. Sukuma and Tusi tend to be the largest cattle-owners in the region. Factors of topography and disease greatly affect the regional distribution of cattle. The tsetse fly is probably the most important single factor here. Out of a probable total of some 700,000 cattle in the region as a whole, slightly under 450,000 are in Nzega District alone. This is because much of the District is comparatively free of tsetse and provides good grazing land, especially in the east. Sukuma immigration is, however, causing pasture in the District to be overgrazed. Various cash-crops have been tried in Unyamwezi with comparatively little success. Some refuse to grow, others grow only poorly, and others cannot be marketed competitively. Rice, however, has been successful in some parts and groundnuts have been profitable in some years. Honey production is a profitable activity in the west of the region, but it is dangerous since the hives are situated in tsetse country and many producers contract sleeping-sickness. For more than a century the people have sought wealth outside Unyamwezi.1 They took part in ivory and slave trading in the last century and were renowned as porters for the Arab merchants and European explorers of the period. It appears that famine at home was often an incentive for embarking 1

Apart from their visits to the coast, Nyamwezi were also active travellers inland and a Nyamwezi, Msiri, gained control of most of the Katanga in the nineteenth century. Cf. Cameron (1877, vol. n, pp. 140-1), Cunnison (1959, pp. 42-3), and Verbeken (1956, passim).

io

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

on such work.1 More recently they have provided labour for the sizal estates of the coast, the clove estates of Zanzibar and Pemba, and the production of cotton in Sukumaland. A considerable number have settled on the coast, and in many coastal towns the Nyamwezi form 5 per cent of the population. Most, however, return after a stay of one or two years. A Nyamwezi who has never seen the coast is an inferior person in the eyes of his more travelled fellows. Communications in the region are quite good. The Central Railway line from Dar es Salaam to Kigoma passes through Tabora and connects with a line from Tabora to Mwanza. There is a trunk road connecting Tabora with Nzega and Kahama and a regular bus service runs between these towns. There are also a large number of local bus and transport services but some of these can only operate in the dry season owing to the impassability of many minor roads during the rains. As is common in such areas, the pattern of life in Unyamwezi tends to follow the seasonal divisions of the year. In the rainy season there is little time for anything other than agriculture. Year-round activities such as beer-brewing and litigation slacken off considerably at this time. Dry-season activities are more varied. This is the time of year for housebuilding, travel for work and to see relatives, marriages, dances, and beer parties. Hunters may go on long expeditions during this period. Some agricultural work, such as the threshing of millet, is also carried on. Although the majority of the inhabitants of the region are simply farmers, certain men and women possess special skills. Some of these skills tend to belong to members of particular tribes. Thus in northern Unyamwezi iron-working is almost solely in the hands of Rongo immigrants and the making of basket-work cups is a Tusi speciality. Stool-making is a good example of a craft performed by men of various tribes. My impression is that people obtain little profit from such crafts. A more lucrative skill is that of the diviner. Many are able to amass comparatively large herds of cattle through their work. Some men also become wealthy through the hunting of game and the subsequent selling of the meat and sometimes ivory. Often this hunting is carried on outside Unyamwezi and much of it is illegal.2 1

2

Famines appear to have been common in the past. Speke (1863, p. 91) describes the effects of one in central Unyamwezi. The last really bad famine was in 193 8, but localized shortage of food is still common in Unyamwezi. There is still quite a large amount of game in Unyamwezi itself, including big game such as lion and elephant. For poaching, however, the hunters prefer to go to more remote and better stocked areas.

The People and their Country

n

It is on the whole difficult to assess the wealth of individuals in the region. Their reactions to inquiries about their money are in some ways similar to those of an Englishman who is asked about his bank balance, though they are more likely to prevaricate out of politeness than to tell a questioner to mind his own business. Again, as noted earlier, the system of loaning out cattle makes it difficult to discover the exact size of a man's herd. Some statements on the general standard of living may, however, be made. Bicycles are common and most people have some sort of Western-type clothing such as shorts and shirts. The latter are often in very bad condition. Very few people own shoes. Most houses are thatched, and corrugated iron roofs, though highly valued, are extremely rare. Doors are commonly made from millet stalks. Every chiefdom has at least one set of shops owned by Arabs or occasionally by Indians or Africans. The goods most commonly sold are soap, oils of various kinds, clothes, matches, hoes and bicycle spares. Cheaper medicines such as Sloan's Liniment and Aspro are also popular for treating aches and any sort of fever. Certain diseases are very common in the area and almost certainly have a debilitating effect upon the population. Amongst these are epidemic malaria, tick fever, and bilharziasis. Venereal diseases appear to be less common than might be expected and it is possible that malaria is of influence in this.1 Infant malnutrition is comparatively rare and the varied diet of the people seems to be important here.2 Socially the most important disease is sleeping-sickness and almost the whole of the western part of Unyamwezi is organized into government-controlled settlements divided from each other by areas of tsetse-infested bush.3 I have never studied these settlements in detail but it is clear that their establishment has had some repercussions on the political organization of the region, since occasionally resettlement has involved the intrusion of one chiefdom into the boundaries of another. A case where this point was of some importance is discussed in chapter 6. 1

2

3

This is a European, not a Nyamwezi, idea. Some Europeans engaged in tropical medicine consider it possible that malaria induces fever states in which the V.D. organisms cannot survive. I refer here not so much to hunger as to malnutritional disease such as kwashiorkor. This last is apparently far more common in Buganda than in Unyamwezi despite the fact that Unyamwezi is a much poorer country. Cf. Handbook of Tanganyika (1958, p. i n ) .

12

Political Organization of Unyamwezi PATTERNS OF SETTLEMENT

So far I have given a brief account of the population, the ecology and the economy of Unyamwezi. I now turn to a description of the patterns of settlement to be found in Nyamwezi villages. In the course of this book I shall use the term 'village' to denote the smallest of the officially recognized subdivisions of a chiefdom.1 As such, a Nyamwezi village typically consists of a piece of higher ground surrounded by low-lying land through which the boundaries of the village run. Occasionally, however, more than one village may be situated upon a single piece of higher ground. Different categories of land are recognized within a village. The lowlying land is called mbuga. It is distinguished from the higher ground both by its soil types and by the fact that it supports distinctive sorts of natural and cultivated plant life. The higher ground is divided into two main parts. The first of these is uncultivated bush which is called iporu. The second is cleared land which was formerly bush and this is called ihala. This last also subdivides into that which is under cultivation and that which is, for various reasons, lying fallow. Cultivated land is called malale and fallow land is called ikela or ilala. Commonly the cleared land of a village is at its centre, with the uncleared bush lying as an inner ring between it and the mbuga. We are chiefly concerned here with the cleared land, for it is this land which is settled by the inhabitants of a village. The people of Unyamwezi do not normally live in compact settlements but there is good evidence that they did so in the past. It is, in fact, possible to trace three main stages of development in the patterns of settlement over the last hundred years. When the first Europeans entered Unyamwezi they were impressed by the amount of civil and inter-chiefdom warfare which was being waged. Speke and others have described the settlements of the period, and their descriptions tally with those of present-day informants.2 These settlements were large, compact, and fortified and were inhabited by a chief or headman and his followers.3 This pattern is said by all to have been a direct result of the political unrest obtaining at the time. It seems probable that these settlements contained some hundreds 1 2 3

For a similar use of the term village cf. Colson (1958, p. 35). Cf. Speke (1864, pp. 278-9). The indigenous term for these early fortified settlements is limbuda. Cf. Bosch (1930, p. 324).

The People and their Country

13

of men, women and children living in close proximity with each other. After the imposition of peace upon the area by the Germans, the need for such defensive units was no longer felt and a second pattern of settlement emerged. People still continued to live close together but in much smaller numbers. Other people besides chiefs and headmen began to establish themselves as heads of settlements. Busebu, who lives today in the Mpangala village of Busangi chiefdom, was such a man. As son-in-law of the headman of Mpangala, he built himself a separate homestead shortly after the First World War. Various people joined him until eventually there were some seven men and their dependants living with him. Five of these men were unrelated to both Busebu and the headman. A sixth was married to Busebu's sister and the seventh was his 'fellow son-in-law'.1 All of these men built their huts close together to form a single settlement which may conveniently be described as an extended homestead.2 The huts were surrounded by a single fence beyond which lay the homestead members' fields.3 All the men ate together, as did all the women. Busebu was expected to try to settle any disputes which might occur but the distribution of fields was in the hands of the headman. Individuals could dispose of their personal property as they wished and Busebu had no responsibility to pay the fines which any of them might incur. The Nyamwezi word for such a settlement is kaya, which is also the word used for the smaller homesteads of today. As leader and founder, Busebu was called mzenga kaya, which means 'the builder of the homestead' and is nowadays the title held by village headmen. Such large settlements are rarely found today. There was one, however, within the village of Kibama in Busangi chiefdom in 1959. It consisted of eight huts surrounded by a fence as shown in Fig. 2. It was about 45 yards long and 30 yards wide and had its own name, which was Bukumi. Bukumi had nineteen inhabitants consisting of six groups of men and their dependants.4 These groups and their counterparts in 1 2

3 4

This is a translation of the Nyamwezi term ntozi mwichane which is used of a man who has married a kinswoman of one's wife. I use the term 'extended homestead' in order to retain the word 'homestead' both for these earlier settlements and for the smaller units of today, since I wish to point to a difference of degree rather than of kind between the two forms. From another point of view a term such as ' homestead cluster' might be more suitable since, as will be seen, the modern settlement pattern has resulted from the fission of these settlements. It appears that not all such extended homesteads were surrounded by a fence. Informants tell me that the population of Bukumi was smaller than that of many extended homesteads in the past. At its strongest, Busebu's homestead probably contained at least thirty people.

14

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

other extended homesteads were similar in structure to those which inhabit separate homesteads today. The reasons for this will become clear presently. As in the case of Busebu's homestead, the six group heads in Bukumi were not all related to each other, and affinal ties out-

Fence

Entrance

V

'

'

I

I

/

|

| Huts

Fig. 2. Plan of Bukumi extended homestead.

numbered those of kinship where relationship existed. Bukumi had its own head but his position lacked official recognition. Like Busebu he had no power to distribute land. The right to do this was held solely by the headman of Kibama village. By i960 Bukumi had split up and its inhabitants were following the pattern of dispersed settlement which is characteristic of modern Unyamwezi.1 This third pattern is closely connected with its predecessor, having evolved directly from it. The process seems to have been as follows. The sites of extended homesteads such as Bukumi were not permanent. They were changed roughly every ten to fifteen years. The moving of a homestead site was not unduly troublesome since huts did not last very long and had to be rebuilt in any case. The exact time at which a change was made depended on such factors as the extent of termite damage to the huts and the availability of new roofing grass. The same conditions also apply to modern homestead sites, and these are moved at similar intervals. It is important to note, however, that there was and still is positive advantage to be gained from such movement. The plot of land on which a homestead has stood is called itongo (pi. matongo) and it is very valuable for cultivation. In the case of the old extended homesteads the right to cultivate matongo belonged solely 1

There are a few exceptions. Compact settlements are not uncommon on some of the main roads out of Tabora and they are beginning to be found along the side of the main Kahama-Nzega road. They are never fenced and, at least in the Tabora area, they appear to have more affinity to the urban pattern of compact settlement than to the early rural form. For a brief account of urban society in the region, cf. Abrahams (1961).

The People and their Country

15

to the homestead head, since the homestead was always built in his fields. It is the desire to cultivate matongo which is cited by informants as having been the main factor behind the dispersal of settlements like Bukumi. The settlements became dispersed when individual men began to build for themselves and their dependants in their own fields so as to have the right to cultivate matongo when they moved their homestead's site.1 Today, then, Nyamwezi villages have a settlement pattern in which each homestead head has a set of fields, commonly bordering upon those of his neighbours, and he builds and moves his homestead within them. The number of homesteads has increased and their size has diminished. The right to cultivate matongo is still held by the homestead head but more people now enjoy this privilege. There is no room here for a full account of homestead composition in Unyamwezi. The following brief discussion of the village of Butumwa in Busangi chiefdom will, however, give some picture of the situation.2 In early 1958 Butumwa village contained forty homesteads, two of which, though separated spatially from each other, belonged to one man.3 Two homestead heads were women and all but one of the thirty-seven male heads were married. The total population of the village was 251, which gives a rough average of six persons per homestead. Forty-three per cent of the population of the village were children. Table 5 presents information on the number of people living in a homestead and the number of generations represented in it. It appears that membership of a homestead is dependent today upon much closer ties of kinship than it was in the past. This is to be expected 1

2

3

According to my own material the main period of dispersal appears to have been around 1930. Bosch (1930, p. 324) mentions that people like to build in their own fields. Detailed surveys were carried out in two Busangi villages and also in a village in Uyui chiefdom in Tabora District. The principles of homestead composition were similar in all three villages, and other information, less systematically collected, tends to support the wider validity of my findings there. Butumwa was a medium-sized village with some 67 taxpayers living in the 40 homesteads. The size of village populations varies considerably, as may be seen from the following figures for Busangi chiefdom taken at the end of 1957: Villages with Villages with Villages with Villages with

up to 25 taxpayers 4 (the smallest had 4 taxpayers) 26 to 50 taxpayers 7 51 to 75 taxpayers 6 over 75 taxpayers 5 (the largest had 138 taxpayers)

The 22 villages in the chiefdom had a total of 1,288 taxpayers, giving an average ofjust under 59 taxpayers per village.

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

i6

Table 5. Butumwa homesteads, 1958 Number of generations in homestead

Number of homesteads

i 2

20

3

15

Largest number of people in homestead

5

3 9 17

Smallest number of people in homestead

Average number of people in homestead

1

2

3 5

5*4 8-9

A=#

Younger brother

Homestead head

Divorced

O=A

i=rO

0 Absent

A O

Alive

Fig. 3. Structure of the largest homestead in Butumwa, 1957-8.

since extended homesteads contained a number of groups similar to those inhabiting separate homesteads today. Only eight of the forty homesteads in Butumwa contained people of the same generation and sex as the homestead head, and most of these were full younger brothers of the homestead head. In descending generations membership was normally confined to the children of the homestead head or of his

The People and their Country

17

brother, if he was living there, occasional children of a married sister for whom no bridewealth had been paid, and the spouses and children of these people if they were married. Relatives other than the mother of the homestead head were rare in the ascending generation. Fig. 3, o

•

o o

N

Anthropologist O <§^ Vet. centre O Busangi—Ngaya Road

O

0

O

O

0

0

4

0

e

mile approxi

Tribe of homestead head 0 •

Nyamwezi Sukuma

•

Sumbwa

•

Tusi.

Fig. 4. Plan of Butumwa village, July 1959.

which shows the structure of the largest homestead in Butumwa, will serve as an illustration of some of these points. I have chosen the largest homestead to show that even here there are very close relationships between homestead members. From the diagram it may be seen that the homestead contains the head, his younger brother, their wives, the children of the head, the wives of two of these, and two grandchildren.

18

Political Organization ofUnyamwezi

The siting of homesteads vis-a-vis each other in a village can be seen from Figs. 4 and 5. Fig. 4 shows the lay-out of the village of Butumwa as it was in July 1959. It will be seen that homesteads are not spaced at uniform distances from each other but are found in clusters. Thus some homesteads are separated by as much as four hundred yards of fields, while others are only a few paces apart. Yet others are found at distances between these two extremes. There is a positive value placed upon living close together with good neighbours, and this conflicts with the principle explained earlier of regularly moving the site of one's homestead. An example will give some idea of how this conflict works. In the top left-hand corner of the map can be seen a cluster of four homesteads, each of which was built within the fields of its respective homestead head. It will be readily appreciated that there is only one place where such a cluster can be built, that is, where the boundaries of the four sets of fields intersect. In the dry season of 1959, however, the temptation to build new homesteads was strong because there was plenty of roofing grass available. The heads of the four homesteads wished to build together but were unable to agree upon a site since this would now involve building within the fields of one of them. Eventually one of them built apart from the others and close by my camp, which was situated in his fields. The other three ultimately did not build at all that year but the desire and the need to do so remained. No one seemed able to say how the problem would be resolved in this particular case. The collapse of the old system of extended homesteads clearly testifies, however, to the strength of the desire to use one's own matongo even though this may mean living less close to one's neighbours. Fig. 5 shows part of the village of Kagela in the Uyui chiefdom of Tabora District as it was in March 1959. It shows the present settlement of a piece of land which was cleared by one family nearly forty years ago. Members of this family are still living upon part of this land but other people have moved onto it with their permission. Those living on this piece of land have built within their own fields, though there is a tendency to build on the edge of them so as to be near to one's neighbours. The spacing of homesteads may be seen to be similar to that found in Butumwa.

The People and their Country

Boundaries of land cleared by Kagoda and his family Paths and boundaries of fields

M%fy

Cultivated fields

I

The numbers designate homesteads as follows: 1 Homestead of Bakari and Musa, sons of Kagoda 2 Second homestead of Musa 3 Homestead of Karunde, sister of Bakari and Musa 4 Homestead of Saidi, a newcomer 5 Homestead of William, a newcomer 6 Homestead of Masudi, a newcomer (cultivated and fallow fields undifferentiated) 7 Homestead of Mrisho, a newcomer (cultivated and fallow fields undifferentiated) II The letters designate the holders of fields as follows: B Bakari M Musa K Karunde A Binti Abdallah, daughter of Karunde J Jumanne, son of Musa L Limi, daughter of Bakari Ki Two cousins of Bakari and Musa, both middle-aged women, living at William's homestead S Saidi W WilHam T and Ka Tabu and Kahungu, men living in a nearby homestead Fig. 5. Plan of part of Kagela village, Uyui, March 1959.

20

Political Organization oj Unyamwezi SOCIAL STRUCTURE IN UNYAMWEZI

Although this subject can, of course, be treated at much greater length than that allotted to it in this section, my aim here is simply to give a brief and general outline of the social structure of the region, with particular reference to the rural African population, as an introduction to the more particular subject matter of the present work. It is impossible in Unyamwezi to isolate a single dominant principle of social relationship and there are in fact at least five distinct sets of relationships within which individuals are linked with one another. The relationships in each case have their own particular nature, and the different sets receive explicit recognition in the social organization of the people.1 Although there is some overlap between the different sets, both in their personnel and in the functions which they serve, a failure to treat them separately can only lead to distortion and confusion. The five sets of relationships in question are those of chiefdom citizenship, neighbourhood, kinship and affinity, domestic grouping, and secret societies, and I shall say something about each of these in turn. Every person living in Unyamwezi is a citizen of a chiefdom. As such he is automatically involved in the set of relationships which links together a chief, his subordinate office-holders, and their subjects. He has specific privileges and obligations vis-a-vis his fellow citizens, simply because they are his fellow citizens. It is important to note that this set of relationships is essentially a hierarchical one composed of superordinate-subordinate relationships. When people of the same level in the hierarchy co-operate as fellow citizens they do so because they are all subject to the same authority. It may also be noted that it is in his capacity as a citizen of a chiefdom that a person has relationships with Central Government. Just as every person is a citizen of a chiefdom, so too is he a member of a village. As such he has specific privileges and obligations vis-a-vis his neighbours. The relationships between neighbours qua neighbours are rather different from those obtaining between them as fellow citizens. On the whole, neighbourhood relationships are egalitarian in nature and they depend upon the social recognition of locality rather than upon the fact that villagers are all subjects of the same village headman. The distinction between ties of neighbourhood and citizenship is clear in the case of the village headman himself. As an office-holder in the chiefdom hierarchy, he is in a superordinate position to his fellow 1

For a similar description of a relatively complex social system cf. Epstein (1958, p. 234).

The People and their Country

21

villagers. In other contexts, as their neighbour, he is their equal and his office gives him no particular authority. Although there is considerable local and inter-tribal variation in the kinship organization of the inhabitants of Unyamwezi, it is possible without undue distortion to present a general picture which is valid in essentials for most of the population of the region. The only politically important kinship groups in Unyamwezi are the ruling families of the chiefdoms and their subdivisions, and the members of these almost always form only a small proportion of the population in the areas they rule. The structure of these groups, in which unilineal descent plays an important part, and the nature of relationships between them are discussed in some detail in chapters 3 and 4. Unilineal descent groups in the form of clans or lineages are not a general feature of the kinship organization of commoners. For the commoners of a chiefdom, kinship and affinity are important mainly on the level of inter-personal relationships, and each person is the centre of an ego-oriented group of cognates. A person's kinsfolk are often spread over a wide area, and it must be stressed that villages in Unyamwezi are not kinship units. Sons fairly commonly move away from their father's homestead during his lifetime, and even when this does not happen, brothers often separate after their father's death and frequently reside in different villages or even chiefdoms. People tend to take their spouses from outside the village. Normally the network of kinship ties within a village is very largemeshed, and few homestead heads within a village have such ties with more than two others.1 Members of the ruling family of a village are the main exceptions here. As many as 50 per cent of homestead heads in a village may be without kinsfolk in other homesteads of the same village. Kinship relations are, in fact, considered by the people to be quite distinct from those of neighbourhood. They contrast them by saying that 'debt' exists in neighbourhood relationships but not in kinship. By this they mean that a person who has received help from a neighbour should give an equivalent return, whereas kinsfolk simply help each other when and how they can. Where the same people are both each other's kinsfolk and each other's neighbours, or where the obligations of kinship are in competition with those of neighbourhood, rules exist to define the relative importance of the two ties in particular situations. Kinsfolk and affines co-operate in a number of important ways. They 1

The concept of * large mesh' is borrowed from Barnes (1954, p. 44).

22

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

participate in each other's ancestor sacrifices and rituals of birth, marriage and death, and they may help each other in their agricultural work and housebuilding. It is especially from them that a person will seek seed for planting if he has run short, and they normally do all they can to help a man beset by some sudden disaster, such as the destruction or damage by fire of his house and property. In addition, children are dependent on their senior kinsfolk for their upbringing and education, and, usually, for the wherewithal of their transition into adult married status. There are two main types of marriage found in Unyamwezi, one with bridewealth and the other without. Both types are usually virilocal. Polygyny is permitted, theoretically without limit, but few men have more than two wives and many have only one. Marriage to two related women is in general forbidden. Divorce is common, particularly in non-bridewealth unions. The status of children is to a considerable extent determined by the form of marriage of their parents. Marriage with bridewealth gives a husband both uxorial and genetricial rights over his wife. The sons of bridewealth marriages normally inherit their father's property, and in polygynous families inheritance tends to follow house lines. The father of the children of a bridewealth marriage has a right to receive any bridewealth which may be paid upon the marriage of his daughters, and he has an obligation to finance the marriage of his sons if he has available resources. Non-bridewealth marriage, on the other hand, confers no genetricial and only limited uxorial rights upon the husband. The children of such a marriage may be taken by right to live with their mother's people when they are about eight years of age. Rights and obligations with respect to bridewealth for their marriages devolve upon the mother's brother or other matrilateral relative responsible for their upbringing. Such children have a somewhat inferior status to those of bridewealth marriages. They will not normally inherit from their father and they have no right to a major share of their mother's brother's property if he has children of a bridewealth marriage of his own. It should be added, however, that the people recognize the right of the father or another patrilateral kinsman of the children of a nonbridewealth union to redeem them at a later date by making certain payments for them to their mother's people. The children then obtain a status similar to that of children born of bridewealth unions. It is theoretically forbidden for known kinsfolk of any degree to marry or to have sexual relations. Breaches of the rules are sometimes

The People and their Country

23

condoned, however, when the relationship is neither genealogically nor socially a close one. Genealogical and social distance far from always coincide in Unyamwezi. Some of a person's closest ties of mutual help and interaction may be with a kinsman to whom direct genealogical links cannot be traced, whereas his relationship with a genealogically closer kinsman may be strained or even simply dormant. Living within easy visiting distance of each other is an important aid to regular interaction and co-operation between kinsfolk. It is not, however, sufficient in itself to guarantee it. Although the range within which kinship is recognized is not limited by fixed rule, there are various ways in which the number of known kinsfolk comes to be restricted. Relationships between spatially distant kin often lose their force, and they may ultimately be forgotten with the passing of generations. Older persons, in fact, tend to give only an abridged version of their own knowledge when teaching children about their kinsfolk. This is done, they say, 'in order to let the child remember more easily'. The knowledge of an individual is, moreover, strongly influenced by the categories of kinsfolk who were his instructors. A child brought up by his mother's people, for example, commonly possesses a comparatively scant knowledge of his patrilateral kin, and instruction by a particular grandparent is often cited as the reason for a person's especially detailed knowledge of one area of his genealogy. Behaviour patterns between kinsfolk are largely determined by their generational status vis-a-vis each other. Alternate generations are considered to be similar to one another, and relations between their members are typically relaxed and informal, with much joking by both parties. In contrast, relations between kinsfolk of proximal generations are characterized by restraint and mutual respect. Unless the link is very distant, any member of the senior generation normally possesses some authority over the junior person in such a relationship, although certain rights over children are, as I have mentioned, held exclusively by either patrilateral or matrilateral kin. There is no joking relationship with the mother's brother, even if the father has paid bridewealth for the mother. Relations between persons of the same generation do not conform to a single pattern. In the case of full or half siblings, seniority tends to be important and to confer superior status and authority, whereas behaviour between more distantly linked persons approximates more closely to the informality and joking found between the members of alternate generations. Generational similarities and differences are also important in affinal

24

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

relationships. AfFines of the same or of alternate generations usually joke with one another. Parents-in-law and children-in-law treat each other with great respect and there is avoidance between those of opposite sex. As in the parent-child relationship itself, the senior party has superior status. Except in the case of a sister's son, and his mother's brother's wife, and also in the case of a girl and her father's sister's husband, where there is a joking relationship, relations with the spouses of a person's senior kinsfolk follow normal generational rules. The kinship terminology reflects some of the features which have been described. A list of terms is given in appendix B. Kin of proximal and alternate generations are described by different sets of terms. Moreover, kin of alternate ascending generations to that of grandparents are called * grandfather' and' grandmother' and the grandparents of kin of the parental generation are described by the terms used for that generation. Similar rules apply to the terms used for junior kin. Different terms of reference are employed, however, for grandparents and grandchildren. Between alternate generations, no distinctions are made by or between patrilateral and matrilateral kinsfolk. On the level of proximal and their alternate generations, however, such distinctions are made. Thus there are no 'fathers' or 'father's sisters' on the mother's side, and no 'mothers' or 'mother's brothers' on the father's side. This seems consistent with the fact that it is relations between proximal generations which particularly involve authority, and this is differentially distributed between paternal and maternal kin. Patrilateral kinsfolk are described collectively as ha buta or' bow people', and the corresponding term for matrikin is ba migongo or 'back people'. The above discussion applies mainly to the reference terminology. Terms of address are much less numerous than those of reference, and closely follow generational positions. They also tend to be employed reciprocally. Thus grandfather and grandson usually address each other as 'grandfather', as do males of the same generation, and father and son commonly address each other as 'father'. Mother's brother and sister's son usually call each other 'mother's brother' in address, though they also sometimes call each other 'father'. At first it might seem strange to find reciprocal terms used in clearly asymmetrical relationships.The asymmetry is maintained, however, in the actual sequence of greeting, since the junior person has to greet the senior person first. It remains to point out here that, although kinship is important today in the social life of the inhabitants of Unyamwezi, it appears likely that it was both more important and more corporate and complex in its

The People and their Country

25

organization in the past. There are, in fact, a number of named kinship institutions about which people are mostly ignorant today. Examples are two traditional practices called ya butina budugu and ya butina nsoni, the names referring respectively to the removing of kinship and the removing of shame. Some people have never heard of these customs and others only know their names. Some say plausibly that the first concerns the breaking of kin ties between distant relatives who wish to marry, and that the second refers to ceremonies performed prior to the inheritance by a man of the widow of a kinsman of the senior proximal generation. Others have different views. In addition to these now largely forgotten institutions, others, such as widow inheritance, the sororate, fraternal succession and inheritance, and a restricted form of blood vengeance with royal sanction, are all spoken of as having been widespread in the past. Blood vengeance had become illegal in some if not all chiefdoms before the establishment of European rule. The other three customs are, significantly, rarely found today outside the ruling families of the chiefdoms, and even there they are practised only to a limited extent. I use the term 'domestic group' to refer to the group of people who live in a single homestead today. Some description of these groups has already been given. Although their male and female members eat apart, domestic groups are the largest social units within which there is regular commensality throughout the year between members of the same sex. A domestic group contains one or more households. A household is a distinct food-producing, food-owning and child-rearing unit, though there is usually a high degree of co-operation in these matters between households of the same homestead. The husband-wife relationship, with its well-defined division of labour, is the fundamental element of household structure. Membership of secret societies is comparatively voluntary. A person may belong to more than one society and many people do not belong to any. Some people join because diviners have advised them to do so, but others enter on their own initiative. Entry is obtained through the performance of various group rituals and it is the secret nature of these which is the basis of the societies' being called secret. There are many different sorts of societies. There are societies of diviners, spiritpossession societies, societies of porcupine-hunters, snake-charmers and many others.1 The members of a particular society are not drawn 1

Cf. Spellig (1927). The most important and the best known of these societies is the spirit-possession society of the Baswezi. This society has come into the Nyamwezi

26

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

from a single chiefdom, village, or kinship group. Material on their initiation rites suggest that these societies provide kinship surrogates for their members, and a certain amount of mutual help between members does in fact take place.1 Almost all social life in Unyamwezi takes place within the framework of these different sets of relationships, and it is meaningful to talk of the social personality of an individual as the sum total of the different roles which he derives from his participation in them. This is perhaps most clearly shown in the customs which mark an individual's death, and I conclude the present section with a brief account of some of these. I refer particularly to what happens at the death of an adult commoner. The ceremonies for women and children and also for chiefs and headmen differ from these in a number of respects. Five main events take place. First, the dead man is buried. Then news of his death is sent to his more distant kinsfolk. Thirdly, a ritual is performed to purify the village, and this is followed by a divination to decide the cause of death. Lastly, a ceremony takes place which brings a formal end to mourning and establishes who will inherit the property of the dead man. These customs involve all the different sets of persons with whom the individual was socially connected in his lifetime, and in many instances specific tasks are allotted to them. Thus a dead man's kinsfolk may not dig his grave. Only neighbours may perform this task. The neighbours also fill in the grave, the kinsfolk merely throwing a little soil on the corpse. Before the corpse is buried, members of the secret societies to which the dead man belonged dress the body privately in accordance with the special rituals of their societies. It is the task of neighbours to take the news of the death to relatives of the dead man who live at a distance. At the ceremonies to purify the village and at the subsequent divination, the neighbours and kinsfolk of the deceased sit separately and the results of the divination are communicated only to the kinsfolk. At the ceremony to end mourning, rituals specifically concerning the deceased's domestic group take place. These include the bringing of the dead man's wife or wives out of seclusion. At this ceremony, different categories of kinsfolk and affmes receive special portions of meat or beer. The headman, as a representative of the chiefdom hierarchy, also

1

area from the interlacustrine kingdoms. For a description of its activities and rituals in the Nyamwezi area see Bosch (1930, pp. 202-17) and Cory (19556). For an account of the society in its home country of Bunyoro see Beattie (19570). The best material on these rites has been collected by Cory, who actually joined two of the societies. Cf. Cory (1946, 1955 b).

The People and their Country

27

has his part to play in the proceedings. He must be informed of the death in the first place and he must also witness the choosing of the dead man's heir or heirs. Thus different categories of persons have their special tasks, and the joint performance of these constitutes the social recognition that a man of many parts has died. NYAMWEZI POLITICAL

ORGANIZATION

The subject of the present work is the political organization of Unyamwezi. I have found it convenient to take my definition of political organization from Schapera. He writes, 'It is more useful, I think, to base our definition on function and not on means, and to regard political organization as "that aspect of the total organization which is concerned with the establishment and maintenance of internal cooperation and external independence".' 1 1 follow Schapera also in my definition of the political community. He defines this as follows: 'By a "political community" I mean a group of people organized into a single unit managing its affairs independently of external control (except that exercised nowadays by European governments). Each community also has its own territory and an official head or "chief".'2 Defined in these terms, the political community in Unyamweziis the chiefdom, since this is the largest 'independent' territorial unit, and the main part of this book is concerned with the structure and organization of chiefdoms in Unyamwezi. I shall start by giving an account of the historical background to the present system and then I shall discuss the external relations of the chiefdom both with other chiefdoms and with Central Government. I shall then describe the internal structure of the chiefdom and the political functions which are performed through the medium of this structure. This will be followed by a discussion of the historical charters through which ruling families validate their privileged position and a description of the system of succession to political office. I shall then attempt to analyse the structure of the chiefdom as a working system of relationships. It may be noted that Schapera is careful to distinguish between structure, function, and means. This is an important distinction for an analysis of Nyamwezi political organization because in parts of Unyamwezi the relationships of neighbourhood share some of the political functions of the chiefdom hierarchy. I shall therefore devote a chapter to the political role of neighbourhood in those parts. Finally I shall attempt to bring together some of the points in my account which seem to be of a comparative or theoretical interest. 1

Schapera (1956, p. 218).

2

Schapera (1956, p. 8).

28

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

N

KIBONDOJ DISTRICT ]

y

'

J

UYOWA ^ -- ""* """

~

IBUKUMBI JBUSAGARI

£QA

G

'

IBILI/ *M ^^~*^^ \j.£-'f^ UYUI UNYANYEMBE /

V

UGUNDA

\ \

NGULU

Chiefdom boundary

o 1

io 20 30 1

1

Miles

1

/

SINGIDA DISTRICT

\

(

^

/ /

\ \

^

I / ^

\ District boundary

DIS1:^

l

KIWERE

CHUNYA DISTRICT

Fig. 6. The chiefdoms of Tabora District.

\

> /

The People and their Country

29

DISTRICT

N

f BUSONGO MWAKARUNDE

I

Nzega /

SINGIDA DISTRICT

NYAWA

KARITU

/

PUGE

UNYAMBIYU

A—

District boundary Chiefdom boundary

\ NDALA

\ 10

20

Mile:

Fig. 7. The chiefdoms of Nzega District.

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

BIHARAMULO DISTRICT

N

KIBONDO DISTRICT

SHINYANGA DISTRICT

District boundary Chiefdom boundary NZEGA DISTRICT

UYOGO Fig. 8. The chiefdoms of eastern Kahama District.

THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND The purpose of this chapter is not so much to present a complete history of Unyamwezi as to provide an account which will be useful as a background to my main discussion. Some historical material, and particularly that referring to the period of British rule, will be dealt with in the course of later chapters. The material to be discussed here may be divided into three main periods. First, there is the period before the coming of the Arabs in the early years of the nineteenth century. This is followed by the period between the coming of the Arabs and the establishment of German rule in 1890. Lastly, there is the period of German rule from 1890 until 1916, when the British and the Belgians took Tabora in the First World War. THE PERIOD BEFORE THE COMING OF THE ARABS

It is impossible to state how long the Nyamwezi have inhabited their present country. In a rather confused passage Burton tells us that the name of Unyamwezi was first heard by the Portuguese in about 1589.1 An examination of this passage reveals, however, that the name heard by the Portuguese was 'Monemugi', and the connexion of this word with the name 'Nyamwezi' is obscure.2 According to the traditions of the people themselves, Unyamwezi was about 300 years ago an uninhabited country abounding in all sorts of game, and the ancestors of the present ruling familes began to move into the area about this time.3 According to these stories Unyamwezi has never been politically united.4 Rather, they tell us that the region has always been divided among several separate ruling dynasties most of which control a number of chiefdoms at the present time. Each dynasty claims distinct origins and entry into the country. Thus one claims to have come from Kenya, another from Uganda, another from the eastern part of Tanga1 3

4

a Burton (i860, vol. 11, p. 2). Cf. Bosch (1930, p. 5). I have arrived at this dating by inference from some genealogies of Nyamwezi ruling families. The validity of such inference is, of course, doubtful and I give the figure largely for want of a better one. This contrasts with Burton (i860, vol. n, p. 4). His informants told him that the country was once united under a single chief but, judging from my own data, it seems likely that they referred only to the part of Unyamwezi Burton visited.

[ 311

32

Political Organization ofUnyamwezi

nyika, and yet another from the region of Lake Tanganyika in the west. Always they came as hunters.1 Mostly they are said to have found the country uninhabited. Sometimes, however, they are said to have seized the territory of other groups already settled there. In such cases the newcomers sometimes allowed the defeated dynasty to retain a part of their former territory. An account of how the Kamba dynasty are said to have done this is given in another context in chapter 6. In the case of most dynasties a division of their territory is said to have taken place after an initial period of settlement and expansion. These early divisions were apparently peaceful ones in which a leading part was often taken by the chief himself. Thus members of the Kamba dynasty tell how an early chief, Nkumbi, divided up his country into six chiefdoms. The following is a translation of part of a Swahili version of this story given to me by the chief of the Kamba chiefdom of Busangi. It may be mentioned here that there was matrilineal succession to the chiefship in the Kamba chiefdoms until German times. Nkumbi had great difficulty with the people who lived very far from his headquarters. Dead lions which were brought to him in accordance with the laws of the country were rotten on arrival. His commands were not obeyed. He therefore took the children of his sisters and gave each one a part of the country for him to rule as a small chief. Members of other dynasties tell similar stories. In some cases, however, we are told that members of a dynasty moved forth from the first settlement to found new chiefdoms. Thus members of the Sagari dynasty, whose chiefdoms form a cluster bordering on those of the Kamba, tell how, after they had first founded the chiefdom of Uyui, some of them moved westward to found the chiefdom of Ibili.z In most cases of this sort the new chiefdoms bordered on the old ones but occasionally members of a dynasty wandered far afield and founded a new chiefdom in another part of the country. Many of the chiefdoms founded in these first divisions and expansions still exist today and the stories partly serve to validate the separate existence of these chiefdoms.3 Thus four of the six chiefdoms founded by Nkumbi still remain intact. These are Mwangoye and Mwakarunde 1

2

Even today in the chiefdom of Unyanyembe a newly installed chief may not shave his head until an elephant has been killed in the chiefdom, and it is said to have been necessary for him to kill the elephant himself in the past. It may be noted here that I found no evidence to support Bosch's and Cory's thesis of a Hamitic or Tusi origin for Nyamwezi dynasties. Cf. Bosch (1930, p. 7) and Cory (1954, p. 2). The root -bili means 'two' in Nyamwezi and 'Ibili' is said to mean 'the second chiefdom'. 3 There is a fuller discussion of Nyamwezi historical charters in chapter 6.

The Historical Background

33

in Nzega District, and Nindo and Lohumbo in the Shinyanga District of Sukumaland. A fifth chiefdom is said to have been divided into two shortly after Nkumbi's initial division, the two units produced being the modern chiefdoms of Kahama and Ukamba in Kahama District. The sixth chiefdom of Nsalal&, which Nkumbi retained for himself, remained a single unit until German times. There are different versions of these early stories which tend to enhance the importance of the chiefdom in which they are found. Thus in a version of the Nkumbi story which I obtained in Ukamba chiefdom it was told how Nkumbi first gave all the land excepting Nsalala to his sister's son, Mabele, who was the founding ancestor of the Ukamba ruling family, and how Mabele subsequently distributed it among his own sisters' sons. Traditional histories afford some picture, albeit a somewhat uncertain one, of internal organization in these early chiefdoms.1 In most cases, succession to the chiefship is said to have been matrilineal at this time, and the following account, based largely upon data from the Kamba area, refers to chiefdoms in which this was so.2 Material collected by Cory in Sukumaland and my own rather less detailed data from other parts of Unyamwezi appear to support the wider applicability of this picture, at least in its main structural features.3 Traditionally, then, the most important officers in the chiefdom were the ntemi or chief and his greater headmen. These last were in control of major subdivisions of the chiefdom. In contrast with the chiefship, succession to these headmanships was patrilineal. The women who by virtue of descent were able to give birth to chiefs were called batemi kazi, and the chiefs of this period were always men.4 The sacred character of these early chiefs was strongly marked. The chief was essentially the ritual guardian and leader of his chiefdom. There was felt to be an intimate connexion between his person and the well-being of his chiefdom. Good rains, bountiful crops and victory in war were all considered to depend upon him, and a system of ceremonies 1

For discussion of the problems of evaluating such a picture cf. Abrahams (1966, section 11). % Most of the chiefdoms of Kahama and Nzega Districts and many in Tabora District are said to have had matrilineal succession to the chiefship in the past. The most important exception is the chiefdom of Unyanyembe in Tabora District. Both patrilineal and matrilineal succession to the chiefship are said to have existed in Sukumaland in the past. Cf. Cory (1951, p. 4). 3 Cf. Cory (1951, 1954). 4 Female chiefs are sometimes found today.

34

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

in which he played a leading part existed to procure these benefits.1 Some say that in time of drought the chief was beaten till he cried, in the belief that his tears would cause the rain to fall, and one chief is said to have abdicated when he saw that his rule was not blessed with good rains. The person of the chief was carefully guarded and he seems not to have travelled beyond the borders of his chiefdom. When a chief was ill and seemed unlikely to recover he was strangled by ritual officers with the collusion of his great wife. A new chief was then chosen by a divination which was organized by the ritual officers and the greater headmen. The interregnum was a closely kept secret.2 The chief had few administrative functions. He settled the disputes of the subjects who lived near his headquarters and he also dealt with wrongs committed by his greater headmen. Sometimes, with the support of other greater headmen, he was able to depose one of their number. Meetings with all his greater headmen took place annually. At these meetings the affairs of the chiefdom were discussed, laws were made, and edicts were issued for the coming year. It was at this time that headmen brought the chief a portion of the tribute which they had collected from their subjects. Similarly, they brought a portion of the fines they had exacted and a part of any booty they had gained through warfare. Most of this wealth appears to have been in the form of grain and livestock. In addition to this wealth from tribute and from fines and booty, chiefs, and also headmen, received tribute-labour from their subjects, who had to till their rulers' fields for two days every year. The assertion that Nyamwezi ruling dynasties came into the country as hunters perhaps served to validate this tribute-labour by its implication that agricultural labour was alien to them. Chiefs also had a right to lion skins and lion fat and to one tusk of any elephant killed or found dead within their chiefdom. Leopard skins were given to the greater headmen. A chief was not expected to reserve his wealth simply for his own use. Great emphasis was placed upon the virtue of generosity, and chiefs were always told upon their installation that they should eat in public so that their subjects could join them in their meals. Various stories are told about the generosity of early chiefs and one of them is said to have offered to abdicate when he found that his subjects would not eat with 1 2

Bosch (1930, pp. 128, 149-53, 264, 268-9, 519-20) and Cory (1951, passim) give good accounts of these ceremonies. They are further discussed in chapter 5. I have reserved a fuller discussion of the traditional handling of interregna and of the traditional ceremonies of installation for chapter 6, where they are compared with modern practices.

The Historical Background

35

him. They told him that they did not like the sort of food he ate, and so he changed his diet and from that time on they ate with him. This emphasis upon actually eating with one's subjects seems to be unusual with sacred or divine chiefs in other African societies.1 Another story tells how an ancient chief, Ibambangulu of the Sagari dynasty, was given magical powers by a youth who was impressed by his great hospitality. The early chiefs had many wives but two were of especial importance and were installed together with the chief on his accession to the chiefship. These were the great wife, called nyihanga, and the second wife, called nyihojo.2 These wives were chosen at the time of the installation and in some chiefdoms the nyihanga always came from a specific family in the chiefdom. Each had her separate homestead. Apart from organizing the household affairs of the chief, these wives took part in many of the ceremonies which he performed and we have already noted that an ailing chief was strangled with the help of the nyihanga. A third important woman in the chiefdom was the nina wa ntemi or 'mother of the chief. This was normally the chief's real mother and her functions appear to have been mainly advisory. The greater headmen were the main administrators and usually the leading warriors of the chiefdom. Mostly they were men, but women sometimes held the office in divisions of the chiefdom which did not border upon enemy country. For purposes of descent women headmen were counted as males. Most of the greater headmen were the patrilineal descendants of chiefs. Those who were the sons of chiefs were called banangwa and those who were the grandsons of chiefs were called bizukulu. The sons of bizukulu were in turn banangwa.3 In some cases, however, major subdivisions of the chiefdom were held by men known as batemi ba mhoja, a term that seems to mean the 'chiefs of prosperity'. The areas under these batemi ba mhoja had formerly been independent chiefdoms which were taken over by the present ruling dynasties. I am not sure about traditional succession to these offices.4 Greater headmen had their own courts and apparently heard cases of all kinds, including those of witchcraft and murder. As has been mentioned, they also received various kinds of tribute. Under them there was a group of lesser headmen. Some of these also were patrilineal 1 2 3 4

Cf. Hadfield (1949, pp. 34-40). Alternative names for these wives are ngole w'ihanga and ngole w'ihojo, ngole itself being the usual term for any wife of a chief. See chapter 4 for a comparison of this with modern usage of the term mwanangwa. Cory (1951, p. 21) equates them in Sukumaland with the office of ngabe. This is not the case in Unyamwezi. For the Nyamwezi office of ngabe see below. 3-2

36

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

descendants of chiefs and were called banangwa and bizukulu. Others, however, were men who had been the first to clear bush in a particular area. In this case the patrilineal descendants of these bush-clearers succeeded to their position. The power and wealth of these lesser headmen was much smaller than that of the greater headmen, many of whom were their own masters in most matters. As might be expected, female office-holders were apparently more common in the lesser headmanships. We have already noted the existence of ritual officers in a chiefdom. First there was the group of men called banyikulu or 'men of the chief's court'. These men were also sometimes called bagohogoho.1 They had a large variety of duties. They formed the chief's bodyguard, they helped him in his ceremonial and other duties, and they looked after the sacred objects and regalia of chiefship. It was they who strangled a sick chief, and much of the work of burying and installing both the chief and greater headmen was theirs. With the ngabe, whom I discuss below, they also helped the greater headmen to organize the divination which was held to choose a new chief. Always they were slaves or men of slave descent. In addition to the banyikulu each chiefdom had a ritual officer known as the ngabe. The office of ngabe was held by a patrilineal kin group which was apparently not of royal descent. The duties of the ngabe were mainly those of supervising the succession to the chiefship. Apart from these permanent posts there was also the office of kitunga, which was filled only when a chief was to be installed. The kitunga tied on the regalia of the chief in preparation for the installation. To sum up briefly, we may say that this traditional system seems to have been characterized by an extremely neat division of labour between distinct but complementary sets of persons. Secular duties of administration and warfare were mainly in the hands of headmen, most of whom were patrilineal descendants of chiefs. The chiefship, on the other hand, was basically a ritual office to which matrilineal succession was the rule. Finally, the continuity of the chiefship was entrusted to men who were ineligible to hold the office themselves. Such then, briefly, was the traditional internal organization of early chiefdoms. Rather less can be said about their external relationships one with another. The chiefdoms which were ruled by families of a single dynasty appear to have been linked to each other by certain ritual ties, so that, for example, they could only replace their regalia, when the need to do so arose, by begging new ones from the founder chiefdom, 1

Cf. Malcolm (1953, p. 23) for mention of this term, which does not appear to be found in the early literature on Unyamwezi.

The Historical Background

37

such as Nsalalain theKamba case. Intermarriage between ruling families seems to have occurred but details of which ruling families were allowed to intermarry are lacking. Thus it is not clear whether ruling families of a single dynasty could do so. Similarly, although warfare is spoken of for this period, I am not sure whether it took place between the chiefdoms of a single dynasty. Certain dynasties were apparently linked to each other by joking relationships and these seem to have been most usual between dynasties whose territories bordered on each other. These joking relationships still exist today in an attenuated form.1 In some cases there was no joking relationship between such neighbouring dynasties and it is likely that warfare was most common between adjacent chiefdoms of these unlinked dynasties. Occasionally, however, warfare seems to have arisen when a chiefdom was attacked by raiders from more distant regions. THE PERIOD FROM THE COMING OF THE ARABS UNTIL 189O

This second period of Nyamwezi history is comparatively well documented, especially in its latter part. Local traditions improve as the period proceeds, and there are also contemporary records in the writings of European and other visitors to the region. It is a period of important changes in political organization. These changes were most marked in south and central Unyamwezi, and it will be convenient to treat this region separately from the northern area mainly occupied by chiefdoms of the Kamba dynasty. South and central Unyamwezi

It is likely that Arab traders started moving into Unyamwezi in the early part of the nineteenth century.2 Their first settlement was founded about twenty miles north of Tabora, but they were driven from this after unsuccessfully participating in a local war. As a result of this, they established their settlement at Tabora, then called Kaze, round about 1850.3 By 1858 they had obtained considerable political influence in the Tabora area. About that year Fundikira I, the chief of Unyanyembe, died, and Muhammed bin Juma, an Arab who had married into the ruling family of the chiefdom, established Mnywa Sera as chief.4 This chief quarrelled with the Arabs and they deposed him, putting in his place another chief called Mkasiwa. Mnywa Sera continued to fight 1 3 4

2 Cf. chapter 3. Cf. Smith (1959, p. 7). Cf. Burton (i860, vol. 1, p. 327) and Baumann (1894, p. 234). This Muhammed bin Juma was the father of Tippu Tip. Cf. Whiteley (1959, p. 41).

38

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

against the Arabs, who eventually defeated him in 1865.* By 1873 they appear to have gained control over much of the country immediately around Tabora, and it is of interest that Cameron, who visited the area at this time, talks much about an 'Arab Governor of Unyanyembe', Said ibn Selim, but makes only passing reference to Mkasiwa.2 By this time, too, the Arabs at Tabora had become a virtually autonomous group despite the fact that they were formally subjects of the Sultan of Zanzibar.3 Their power was, however, always restricted to the Tabora region, for they never gained political control of other parts of Unyamwezi. The opening up of south and central Unyamwezi to Arab trade had two immediate results. It brought strong competition to indigenous trade, especially with the coast, and it provided local rulers with an opportunity to obtain wealth by raiding caravans and by extorting tolls from them. This situation seems to have produced important changes in the political organization of the region. Ih many of the chiefdoms which lay immediately to the north of Unyanyembe succession to the chiefship had originally been matrilineal. By the middle of the nineteenth century, however, patrilineal succession to the chiefship was common in all these chiefdoms. Unfortunately no clear picture of the way in which this change was brought about can be obtained from written sources or from the traditional histories which I collected. It seems probable, however, that something like the following took place. In the traditional system with matrilineal succession to the chiefship, the chief was mainly a ritual and ceremonial figure. The more secular activities of political organization, including fighting, were in the hands of greater headmen, most of whom were sons or other patrilineal descendants of chiefs. The chief was, however, entitled to receive a portion of the wealth which was obtained through the exertions of these greater headmen. As the amount of storable wealth which could be won increased with the coming of the Arabs, I suspect that the greater headmen became both less inclined to share their gains with the chief and at the same time anxious to obtain, if possible, a share of the wealth of their fellow headmen. Although this last point is largely conjectural, it does fit in with struggles which took place between headmen who were trying to install their own favourites as chief, and I find it difficult to see other motives for such struggles. As will be seen 1 3

Cf. Speke (1863, pp. 77-112), Whiteley (1959, pp. 8, 41-3), and Coupland (1939, 2 pp. 67-8). Cameron (1877, vol. 1, ch. ix, and also pp. 178, 263). Cf. Coupland (1939, pp. 256-7).

The Historical Background

39

below, conflicts of this sort were common in the Kamba chiefdoms, and material from Ibili chiefdom in Tabora District also reveals a period of internal warfare in which various matrilineal chiefs were installed one after another in rapid succession immediately before the change to patrilineal succession to the chiefship. At one stage Ibili chiefdom was split into two as a result of this conflict. It seems likely that victorious headmen in such struggles eventually decided to become chiefs themselves, and their power and wealth enabled them to force their wishes upon others. Once these precedents had been successfully established, patrilineal succession to the chiefship now became the general rule. The change to patrilineal succession to the chiefship seems to me to have involved far more than simply placing emphasis on patrilineal as opposed to matrilineal ties. I make this point because it has occasionally been suggested to me that the change was simply the result of the influence of Arab inheritance rules. The influence of the Arabs in Unyanyembe has already been discussed, and it is clear that they also meddled in the politics of certain other chiefdoms. I believe, however, that it is more important in the present context that secular political authority and military power were already largely vested in the 'sons' of chiefs in the indigenous system. Later, when guns became more readily available, we even find occasional cases of chiefdoms being taken over by outsiders whose sole claim to office was their control of military resources.1 Consistent with all this, we find that changes in succession to the chiefship were accompanied by changes in the character of the office. Chiefs themselves became increasingly interested in trading, raiding and warfare. Every chief had at his command a body of trained troops known as rugaruga and by about 1870 most chiefs had an armoury of muzzle-loading guns. It should be noted, however, that in spite of these changes chiefs continued to perform the ritual duties of their predecessors. The early form of chiefship was not so much abolished as incorporated into its successor. Quite the most outstanding of these new-style chiefs was Mirambo, who was described by Stanley as the Napoleon of Central Africa.2 His political career began when, probably in the early 1860s, he succeeded 1 2

Cf. Smith (1959, p. 16). There are accounts of Mirambo in Stanley (1872, pp. 267-70; 1878, vol. 1, pp. 491-3 and passim), Cameron (1877, vol. 1, pp. 150-2 and passim), Broyon-Mirambo (1878), Whiteley (1959, pp. 125-43), and other sources noted in Bennett (1963). For modern discussions see Coupland (1939, pp. 256-61, 263-5 and passim), Harvey (1950), Smith (i959, PP- 16-19) and Bennett (1963). The present account is based partly on the literature and partly on my field material.

40

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

his father to the chiefship of Uyowa, a small chiefdom which lay about forty miles to the north-west of Tabora. By the time of his death in 1884 his influence was felt all over Unyamwezi. One of the first steps in his rise to power was the annexation of the neighbouring Sagari chiefdom of Ulyankulu. There he killed the chief and declared himself the ruler of the chiefdom. Later, in alliance with the chief of the Sagari chiefdom of Karitu to the north, he was able to obtain control of another Sagari chiefdom, Busagari, which bordered on the eastern edge of Ulyankulu. Here he established his kinsman Kitamanywa as chief. The three chiefdoms of Uyowa, Ulyankulu and Busagari formed the territorial base for Mirambo's activities. Many neighbouring chiefs joined Mirambo as his allies and some of them became his affmes. A number of these affinal links were made with chiefs of the Sagari dynasty. Mirambo seems to have been keen to be associated with this long-standing dynasty and at one time even claimed membership of it by descent.1 Some allied chiefs owed their possession of the chiefship to him. One of these was a warrior son of the chief of Ulyankulu whom Mirambo had killed and personally replaced. It is said that Mirambo was afraid that the warrior would try to avenge his father's death, and so he offered to help him to depose a neighbouring chief, who was the warrior's mother's brother, and to install him in his stead. The offer was accepted and the man became chief in his mother's brother's chiefdom. Chiefdoms which refused to join Mirambo as his allies were regularly raided and pillaged by his forces. Mirambo's rise to power is only understandable in terms of his opposition to the Arabs of Tabora. He is said to have nursed an implacable hatred against these men ever since they cheated him in a transaction over ivory.2 However this may be, he became involved in an inconclusive war against them in 1871 and, although peace terms were agreed upon some four years later, his relations with them remained tense. His alliances and his raiding of other chiefdoms were partly determined by this war since he was in need of men, guns, gunpowder, and food. But he also seems to have developed wider interests than the mere conquest of the Tabora Arabs. He began to envisage the possibility of a great expansion of trade in Unyamwezi and he was keen that he, and not the Arabs, should control this trade.3 Hence the 1 3

Cf. Harvey (1950, p. 11). Today it is Sagari chiefs who like to stress their links with 2 Mirambo. Cf. Cameron (1877, vol. 1, p. 150). He was glad to have Europeans visit his country, and Broyon-Mirambo and Stanley both became his blood-brothers. On his ambitions for the area cf. Stanley (1878, vol. 1, p. 493) and also Coupland (1939, p. 260).

The Historical Background

41

wide extension of his influence must also be seen as an attempt to gain command of all the trade routes which converged upon Tabora, though he achieved this only in the north and west. Mirambo died in 1884 of natural causes. According to some accounts he was poisoned by the Arabs of Tabora or by Isike, chief of Unyanyembe, but it appears clear that he died as a result of a comparatively long-standing illness.1 One local story has it that he was bewitched by his mother when he threatened to attack her natal chiefdom of Ukune. In the twenty years prior to his death he had succeeded in establishing a sphere of influence which extended well into the present-day Sukumaland. It should, however, be noted that he was never the ruler of a centralized Nyamwezi empire. Rather, he was the leader of a loose confederacy of chiefdoms, and what unity it had was based upon such factors as his personal powers as a leader, the possibility of profit for its members, and the fear of reprisals against secession. It may be added that the chiefs ofnorthern Unyamwezi and Sukumaland were comparatively inactive participants in this confederacy, since they appear to have done little more than provide supplies and allow free passage through their territory. After the death of Mirambo, his own joint chiefdom was inherited by his younger brother Mpandachalo.2 This man does not seem to have shared Mirambo's personal qualities of leadership and vision, and he was unable to maintain the wide contacts and influence of his brother. When the Germans took over in 1890, the region consisted once again of a number of small chiefdoms acting more or less independently of each other. None the less, Mirambo's influence may still be seen today in many of these chiefdoms, since several of them are still ruled by the ruling families he established in them. The Kamba chiefdoms

The Kamba chiefdoms were rather on the verge of the events described for south and central Unyamwezi, and changes in them were not so extreme. The power of the greater headmen became very strong in a number of these chiefdoms, but we do not find a change to patrilineal succession to the chiefship during this period. Speke, who was the first European to visit this part of Unyamwezi, 1 2

Cf. Bennett (1963, p. 29). The name Mpandachalo means 'trampler of the country'. It is interesting that warrior nicknames of this sort appear to be almost wholly confined to this period of Nyamwezi history. Mirambo is itself such a name, meaning 'corpses'.

42

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

passed through Nsalala in the course of his famous visit to Lake Victoria in 1858. He tells us that the country was in a state of war involving various 'sultans' who were fighting over their father's estate, but he makes no mention of an overall chief of the country.1 These 'sultans' were apparently greater headman. I have not been able to identify the particular dispute in question, but traditional accounts collected in the field make numerous references to the sorry state of chiefship in this period of the nineteenth century, and relate how various greater headmen, including the ruler of Ngogwa whom Speke met, quarrelled and fought with one another on a number of occasions. Sometimes they fought when one tried to extend his territories at the expense of another, and they are also said to have fought about which of the various eligible sisters' sons should hold the chiefship. It is further related how, in the course of expanding his domain, one greater headman even drove the chief away from his own headquarters and forced him to seek sanctuary in another part of the chiefdom.2 Writing at the end of the nineteenth century, Desoignies confirms the weakness of the Nsalala chief's position, although he probably overestimates the power of earlier chiefs.3 'Kingly office has become only a name', he writes. 'A certain number of headmen (Hduptlinge) have made themselves independent of the chief (Konig) or ntemi, and they have become much more powerful than him. Those great headmen have a number of vassals under them, who obey them blindly and have therefore left the chief without support. He no longer possesses any authority at all.' He goes on to say that each of these headmen rules his own district quite independently (willkurlich) and that the only time when all the headmen come together is when a new chief has to be chosen. This is, of course, in contrast to the annual meetings, noted earlier, at which the headmen were supposed to bring their tribute to the chief and arrange with him a common policy for governing the chiefdom in the coming year. A comparable situation seems to have obtained in the Kahama chiefdom. The following account describes the events there in the period preceding German occupation of the country.4 1 2 3 4

Speke (1864, pp. 285, 288 and passim). This case is discussed in chapter 4. Desoignies (1903, p. 277). This is taken from a version of Kamba history written about 1927 in Swahili by the then chief of Ukamba chiefdom. It was in the possession of the present chief of Ukamba. Other accounts support the general accuracy of the present passage.

The Historical Background

43

When Ntemi Shilinde died, Ntemi Zelele his brother through his mother, ruled... This Ntemi Zelele was driven out by Mwanangwa Nkandi... When Zelele was deposed, Nkandi installed Ntemi Nkola who was his father's elder brother.. .This Ntemi Nkola was similarly driven out by Mwanangwa Nkandi, who took Nkola's sister's son Kuhenga and installed him as chief. Ntemi Kuhenga only ruled the western part of Kahama. In eastern Kahama there arose a warrior headman called Magulu who took Machibya, one of those eligible to be chief, and installed him. Now the one country had two chiefs... A great war arose. Mwanangwa Nkandi fought to have his chief and so did Mwanangwa Magulu... Neither side was able to defeat the other.. .Then in western Kahama Nkandi became ill and in accordance with our traditional custom the diviners were consulted. They revealed that Ntemi Kuhenga was the witch. Ntemi Kuhenga was seized by Kishimba, the son of Nkandi, and was tortured with rope because of his witchcraft. The rope killed him. After recovering, Mwanangwa Nkandi installed another chief, Ntemi Kadundu, and he likewise became chief of western Kahama. Nor did the war between the headmen finish.. .There arose a war against another chiefdom . . . Kishimba the son of Nkandi was killed [in this w a r ] . . . and Ntemi Kadundu was deposed as a witch. It was said that his medicine caused the son of Nkandi to be slain by his enemies. Then Nkandi sought another man in accordance with the custom of the land of installing as chiefs the children of women, the sisters' sons of the country. Thus Kalima ruled and became chief of western Kahama... [Eventually] Mwanangwa Nkandi and Mwanangwa Magulu came to an agreement, and this was at the time when the Germans entered the country. These two headmen resolved to remove these two chiefs, and Ntemi Machibya and Ntemi Kalima were both deprived of their regalia. The two headmen decided to install a single chief and they went to seek out Sawasawa that he might become chief. Ntemi Sawasawa became chief of all Kahama. It appears, then, that greater headmen in the Nsalala and Kahama chiefdoms found it worth their while in the latter half of the nineteenth century to try by violence to extend their territorial influence and control succession to the chiefship. I do not have sufficient data to say at present just how typical this situation was for all the other Kamba chiefdoms. A similar situation is said to have existed in a number of them, but in others, and particularly the most southern units, the chiefs themselves seem to have obtained rather greater power than that enjoyed by their

Nsalala and Kahama counterparts. A second point which is not clear from the information at my disposal is exactly what the greater headmen sought to gain from their activities, apart from power in a very

44

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

general sense. Further inquiries are clearly needed on these points, but the following tentative suggestions concerning the second question may be made here. The Kamba chiefdoms never felt the full impact of the entry of the Arabs into Unyamwezi. Nevertheless, Arab caravans did pass through the area, and Speke mentions an attempt to enlist Arab help, and a plan to make further use of it, in the Nsalala dispute he encountered.1 It is also clear that a considerable amount of indigenous trading was taking place at this time. Speke records that Kulwa, the greater headman of Ngogwa, had trading interests in Karagwe to the west and in 'the northern kingdoms', and he also met a number of native caravans on his way to Lake Victoria.2 The overall result seems to have been that new forms of storable wealth, especially cloth and later guns, became available in considerable quantities in the region. Warfare, raiding, trading and the taxation of caravans offered greater rewards then ever before and, as I have argued for the south and central region, I suggest that it was competition for the fruits of such activities which led to fighting between Kamba greater headmen and to their desire to control the chiefship. The chief, at least in theory, was the recipient of tribute and other forms of wealth from all parts of his chiefdom, and it would seem to have been to the advantage of headmen to be able to control, and perhaps in some cases to further, his activities in this respect. That headmen did not actually become chiefs in the Kamba chiefdoms appears to be due to the fact that the forces for change in this area were less intense than they were in the south and central chiefdoms. For I see no reason to assume that the traditional political system of the Kamba chiefdoms was any more resistant to change than that of other matrilineal chiefdoms farther south. Summing up this second period of Nyamwezi history as a whole, we may say that the coming of the Arabs seems to have been accompanied by a great increase in the importance of secular aspects of Nyamwezi political organization. This was most marked in the south and central area, where we find the emergence of a new class of 'warlord' chiefs of whom the most notable was Mirambo.3 Coupled with this change in the nature of the chiefship in this area we find that patrilineal succession to the office became the general rule. In the Kamba chiefdoms to the north 1 2

3

Speke (1864, pp. 288, 354). Speke (1864, pp. 268,271,273, 350, 356). For a well-referenced discussion of Nyamwezi trading with the coast in the middle nineteenth century see Gray (1957, pp. 244-5 a n d passim). I follow Smith (1959, p. 16) in referring to these chiefs as 'warlords'.

The Historical Background

45

we find that matrilineal succession to the chiefship was maintained. In a number of these chiefdoms, however, the chiefs became in many ways subordinate to the greater headmen. In the next section we shall see that such Kamba headmen were ready candidates for chiefship under German rule. THE THIRD PERIOD: GERMAN RULE, 189O-I916

The colony of German East Africa, consisting of the present territories of Tanganyika and Ruanda-Urundi, was established under the AngloGerman agreement of 1890. * In Unyamwezi, as elsewhere, the Germans were faced with two basic problems. First, they had to pacify the country; and, secondly, they needed to set up a satisfactory system of administration. Unyamwezi was pacified by 1893. The only serious opposition to the Germans was in Unyanyembe, where the chief, Isike, fought an eight months' war against them. He was finally defeated in January 1893. Pockets of resistance were also met in other chiefdoms, notably Busongo in Nzega District, but these were quickly dealt with. Contrary to their general policy in East Africa, the Germans adopted a form of indirect rule in Unyamwezi. A similar policy was adopted among the Haya and Sukuma.2 Many of the indigenous Nyamwezi chiefs were recognized by the administration, and the mark of such recognition was the giving out of large account books to the chiefs in which they had to keep a record of the fines and taxes they collected. In a number of cases, however, such books were also given to people who were not independent rulers in the indigenous system. In Uyui chiefdom in Tabora District, for example, the Germans gave a book to the chief, but they also gave one to the ruler of a subdivision of the chiefdom and recognized him as an independent chief.3 In Kahama chiefdom Nkandi was made chief of the western half of the chiefdom, the eastern half being left in the hands of Sawasawa, whom he had installed as chief. Such actions considerably increased the number of chiefdoms in Unyamwezi and the principle of'divide and rule' seems to have influenced the Germans' policy. One of the most disruptive divisions was that of the Kamba chiefdom of Nsalala. Over a period of time eight new chiefdoms were produced. These were Busangi, Mhalu, Lunguya, Bunakoba, Ngogwa, Ntobo, Ngaya and Nsalala 1 3

For a summary of German activity in Tanganyika prior to 1890, cf. Handbook of % Tanganyika (1958, ch. m). Cf. Eberlie (i960, p. 191 and passim). More is said about this case in chapter 4.

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi

Ndogo. 1 Busangi was left in the hands of the chief himself and the others were held by the former greater headmen of the chiefdom. Each of these was given a book and a certificate of office and it was only later, in some cases not until the early years of British rule, that traditional regalia were obtained. Coupled with these changes was the adoption of patrilineal succession to the chiefship in the Kamba chiefdoms. The notion of the sons of chiefs succeeding to the chiefship is said to have at first caused consternation to many of the people living in these chiefdoms since it was feared that the country would be struck by drought. Chiefs' sons themselves, however, appear to have welcomed the change. The adoption of patrilineal succession to the chiefship brought the Kamba chiefdoms into line with other parts of Unyamwezi. Although a patrilineal system was perhaps more easily intelligible to the Germans, its adoption in the Kamba area seems also to have been consistent with their attitude to chiefship. For the Germans, the main functions of chiefs were the maintenance of law and order and the efficient collection of taxes. Sons of chiefs, in their capacity as headmen, were often more experienced in such matters than were sisters' sons. Similar arguments apply, moreover, to the German recognition of such rulers as the Nsalala headmen, insomuch as they had been the main administrators in the former chiefdom. Under the Germans, then, there was a further increase in the number of Nyamwezi chiefdoms, and some of the political changes which had previously taken place in south and central Unyamwezi were extended to the whole region. The chiefship became everywhere an administrative as well as a ceremonial office to which patrilineal succession was the general rule. The chiefs, however, were no longer their own masters. They were the administrative agents of the Central Government and their holding office was dependent not upon their own strength but upon the new administration. It is significant in this respect that it was more important for a chief to hold a 'book' than to possess traditional regalia. If the chiefs carried out their duties satisfactorily they were supported by the Government. If they failed to do so they were liable to be dismissed. The Germans had no reverence for traditional authorities. They ruled through the indigenous administrators simply because they did not have sufficient personnel to rule directly. 1

Only five of these are independent chiefdoms today, namely Busangi, Ngaya, Ngogwa and Lunguya in Kahama District and Nsalala Ndogo in Geita District.

The Historical Background

47

CONCLUSION

It is clear from the above material that the history of Unyamwezi is a history of change, both in the number and in the organization of the chiefdoms. On the whole the number of Nyamwezi chiefdoms tended to increase with time and we may distinguish several different ways in which this happened. In the first period a number of processes appear to have been involved. In some cases a single chiefdom is divided peacefully into several structurally similar units and in others the members of a dynasty leave their original settlement and go forth to found new chiefdoms. Less commonly, division took place when one dynasty took over the country of another and allowed the defeated dynasty to retain a part of its former domain. In the second period, there are examples of division taking place as a result of conflict over the succession to the chiefship. It may be added, however, that such divisions, in contrast to those of the previous period, were often only temporary ones. Finally, in the third period, we find the division of chiefdoms by the German administration, a most striking example of this being their conversion of Nsalala into eight separate units. From the point of view of chiefdom organization the most important changes were in the nature of the chiefship. In the traditional system which I have described, the ritual and secular aspects of political organization were clearly separated. The chief was above all a ritual official upon whom the well-being of the chiefdom mystically depended. The greater headmen were the main administrators of the chiefdom. Succession to these two offices followed different lines. During the second period of Nyamwezi history there appears to have been a change to patrilineal succession to the chiefship in the matrilineal chiefdoms of the south and central region, coupled with an increase in the secular functions of the office. In the Kamba chiefdoms these changes were completed under German rule. Chiefs retained their ceremonial duties but they now combined them with important administrative activities. Under the Germans the chiefs became the administrative agents of the Central Government and were responsible for collecting taxes and maintaining law and order in their chiefdoms. Their position was dependent on the satisfactory performance of these tasks. The chiefship had become the most important secular office in the chiefdom.

THE EXTERNAL SITUATION In the last chapter a summary account was given of the history of Unyamwezi up to and including the period of German administration. I want now to give an outline of the wider setting within which the Nyamwezi chiefdoms function as political units. I first consider the position of the chiefdoms under British rule and I then discuss those relationships between chiefdoms which are not a direct result of Government policy. THE CHIEFDOMS AND BRITISH RULE

The British officially took over the administration of Unyamwezi in 1919, three years after the expulsion of the Germans from Tabora in the First World War. The war had been fought on Nyamwezi soil, causing great disruption in the area, and the situation had been further aggravated by the influenza epidemic of 1918. An ad hoc system of administration was established, but, as in the rest of Tanganyika, it was soon found that considerable reorganization was necessary. Shortage of funds and manpower made it impossible to administer Tanganyika directly. In 1923 a Native Authorities Ordinance was passed giving limited recognition to local chiefs and allowing them to settle petty cases in their courts. In 1926, under the governorship of Cameron, a new and more extensive ordinance was passed which formally introduced the famous policy of 'Indirect Rule' to the Territory. This ordinance embodied three main measures. First, local chiefs were recognized throughout the Territory and they were given the power to enact local by-laws. It may be mentioned here that Nyamwezi chiefs exercise this power through their membership of wider federations which I discuss below. Secondly, local courts with fixed powers were established. Thirdly, local Native Treasuries were created. In 1929 this ordinance was supplemented by a new Native Courts Ordinance which decreed that cases in the chiefdom courts were to be dealt with in accordance with Native Law and Custom providing that it did not conflict with territorial law and natural justice. A system of appeal linking the Native Authority courts with the administrative hierarchy of Central Government was also laid down in this ordinance. [ 48 ]

The External Situation

49

Through these ordinances Nyamwezi chiefdoms and their rulers obtained a recognized position in the administration of Unyamwezi. The chiefs and their subordinate headmen were officially empowered to maintain law and order in their territories and to levy taxes as the local representatives of Government. Their work was to be paid for out of Native Treasury funds. In spite of their attempts to build upon indigenous foundations the British have been responsible for many changes in the political organization of Unyamwezi. Alterations have been made in the actual number of chiefdoms in the area, in their internal organization, and in their relationships with one another. I shall say a little about each of these. It was noted in the last chapter that the Germans considerably increased the number of chiefdoms in Unyamwezi. There is also evidence that some subordinate authorities were able to establish themselves as independent chiefs during the period of disorganization caused by the First World War. 1 The early British administrators felt that a smaller number of larger units would be more efficient and by 1925 many chiefs had been deprived of independent status. Their chiefdoms became subdivisions of other chiefdoms and they themselves were given the title of' sub-chiefs' or munangoma. This last is a Sukuma term which was adopted specially for these new sub-chiefs. A few further reductions were made between 1925 and 1953 but these were roughly counterbalanced by successful claims of former chiefs to be established once again as independent rulers. The present number of chiefs was finally ratified in the African Chiefs Ordinance of 1953. The overall result has been that the number of independent chiefs has been reduced by nearly one-half since the British started to administer the region. Within the chiefdoms new offices have been created and existing ones modified. The most important of the new offices are those of court clerks and chiefs' deputies. The most important modifications have been in the headmen's offices. After the establishment of the Native Authorities it was decided that there should be a uniform hierarchy of these offices throughout the region. The Germans, it will be recalled, made several former greater headmen into chiefs. This left only one tier of subordinate headmen under these new chiefs, whereas in other chiefdoms there were still two tiers of headmen. About 1930 a two-tier system was adopted in all chiefdoms. The upper tier consisted of salaried headmen who received a regular monthly wage from 1

Senior Commissioner's report for 1932 quoted in Rodger (1954, p. 9).

50

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

Native Treasury funds. The lower tier consisted of unsalaried headmen holding subdivisions of the area under salaried headmen. These unsalaried headmen received a small annual payment for their services provided that they had a sufficiently large number of taxpayers under them. This system still obtains today.1 Within the last few years commoners have been given a greater say in the administration of their chiefdoms. Commoners' councils now exist in every chiefdom. They are composed of local representatives elected by their fellow villagers and the chief is expected to consult regularly with them. As such they serve as a formal mechanism for letting the chief know the wishes of his subjects. The usefulness of these councils as a check upon the power of the chief is discussed in chapter 7. Commoners are also represented upon various chiefdom federation councils. The move towards democratization may be seen also in the fact that chiefs are now elected by the taxpayers of a chiefdom from a group of eligible candidates. Central Government, however, still has the last word on the suitability of candidates for chiefly offce. In contrast, the power to depose chiefs has become more highly centralized. Before 1953 this power was vested in the Provincial Commissioner, who normally acted upon the recommendation of the local District Commissioner. In 1953, however, the power to depose a chief became the sole prerogative of the Governor of Tanganyika. The result is that it is now more difficult than ever for the subjects to obtain the dismissal of a chief they do not like.2 Under British rule Nyamwezi chiefdoms have been joined together into federations. In Tabora District there are three sub-federations which are linked to form the Bara Unyamwezi Federation Council which covers the whole District. The chiefdoms of Nzega District are joined together in a single federation, as are all the chiefdoms of Kahama District, including those of Sumbwa chiefs. The three District federations are further unified into the Nyamwezi Federal Council. Chiefs and commoners participate in the working of these federations but representatives of Central Government may exert great influence on their decisions. Whereas the District federations meet as often as once per month, the Nyamwezi Federal Council comes together only two or three times each year. The three District federations are Native Authorities in their own 1 2

Cf. chapter 4. Cf. chapters 4 and 7.

The External Situation

51

right. They are legislative bodies and they have appeal courts to which cases from the chiefdom courts are brought. In Kahama and Nzega Districts, these appeal courts actually function at the District level, but in Tabora District hearing of appeals is delegated to the three subfederations which combine to form the District federation. The Native Treasuries are also organized at District level and are administered by the federation councils. When the Treasuries were first introduced it was intended that they operate at chiefdom level. It was soon seen, however, that the larger chiefdoms would be much more easily self-supporting than the smaller ones, and by 1929 District Native Treasuries had been set up instead. Rates of local taxation and the salaries of chiefs and headmen are decided by the federation councils in consultation with the District Commissioner. Technical and social services are provided by them in close collaboration with the Agricultural, Veterinary, Education, and Medical Departments of Central Government, and they employ an extensive staff of their own for these purposes. The construction and maintenance of public buildings, such as court houses, chiefs' houses, and dispensaries, are also dealt with by these District federation councils. The Nyamwezi Federal Council is made up of representatives from the District federations. It is not a Native Authority and funds for its activities are provided from the District federations. One of its main functions is to serve as a forum in which matters of general interest to the three Districts can be discussed. At its meetings representatives can hear of what is taking place in other Districts. Occasionally the co-operation of the Native Treasuries on projects which are mutually advantageous to them is arranged. The Federal Council also runs a newspaper which is distributed through the Native Authorities. It should be noted that these federations are essentially groupings in which chiefs co-operate as equals and that their rights to interfere with the internal politics of member chiefdoms are severely limited. Such matters as the election and dismissal of office-holders, the distribution of land and the exercise of political authority within a chiefdom do not normally fall within the sphere of their control. One of the rare exceptions to this general rule is discussed later in the chapter. Chiefs are very jealous of their independent status vis-a-vis each other and any attempts at amalgamation which they feel are likely to infringe their sovereignty are vigorously resisted. Thus in 1947 Central Government tried unsuccessfully to establish a series of small confederacies of 4-2

52

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

chiefdoms in Kahama District. They failed partly because their various efforts to reduce the number of chiefdoms have made the chiefs suspicious of their intentions in such matters and partly because the chiefs are wary of each other. Nyamwezi chiefs well realize that some among them are ambitious to enlarge their territory and the number of their subjects at the expense of others. Almost all the legislation which has been passed by the federations has been strongly influenced by Central Government. The bulk of it concerns the regulation of agricultural, veterinary, marketing and hunting activities. Occasionally modifications of existing laws are also made. Thus official monetary equivalents have been established for the cattle used in bridewealth exchanges, and the fines for adultery have been increased. The Central Government has also been concerned to codify and unify the native law and custom of the three Nyamwezi Districts, and in 1955 it published in Swahili a handbook of Nyamwezi law and custom. This was compiled by H. Cory, a Government sociologist, who had earlier produced a comparable volume for Sukumaland, and copies were distributed to all the Native Authority courts in the region. The book was written after consultation with a knowledgeable group of chiefs and elders, and an attempt was made to iron out the local differences in customary law and to obtain general agreement on some modifications to existing practices. This attempt was only partially successful. As it stands, the book still recognizes certain differences of custom in four areas, namely Tabora District, Nzega District, the Nyamwezi half of Kahama District, and the Sumbwa half of that District. Moreover, even where agreement was apparently obtained for the whole region, the issuing of the book to courts has not always been able to effect the alteration of the customary practices involved. This is particularly the case in the field of adultery law, where attempts to follow the book in court can lead to considerable difficulty and confusion. Despite such problems, a majority of chiefs appear to respect the book and genuinely try to follow it, where this is feasible, in doubtful cases. Some chiefs, however, pay relatively little attention to it. It is interesting that such chiefs tend to be either very highly educated or extremely conservative. The highly educated chiefs say that the book has no legal status but is merely a guide to native law and custom. The extremely conservative chiefs tend to resent the book as an infringement of their sovereignty. To close this section I shall say a little about Central Government

The External Situation

53

itself.1 Tanganyika is divided into eight Provinces which are in turn divided into Districts, and we have seen that Unyamwezi spreads over three of these Districts in the Western Province of the Territory. The administrative head of each of these three Districts is a District Commissioner and under him there are a number of District Officers. Representatives of the Territorial Agricultural and Veterinary Departments are also found in each District. A small police force is stationed at District headquarters. The representatives of Central Government spend their time partly at the District headquarters and partly on safari in various parts of the District. At the time of my fieldwork, all senior Government officials in Unyamwezi were Europeans. In the context of political organization the most important of these officers is the District Commissioner.2 He is a person of great power and influence within his District. It is his task to see that the Native Authorities in the District work efficiently and the chiefs are directly responsible to him. It is through him that political innovations such as the District federations are introduced into a District. He also settles various disputes at a formal and informal level, and it is to this function that he mainly owes his Swahili name of Bwana ShauriJ In short he may he said to form the crucial link between the Central Government and the Native Authority system. The power of the District Commissioner is limited in two main ways. First, like other officers of Central Government, he rarely stays in one place for a longer period than two years. Secondly, he is subordinate to the Provincial Commissioner, to whom appeal against his actions may be made.4 The Provincial Commissioners are responsible for coordinating policy and administration in the various Districts of their Province. It is, however, realized that individual Districts are large enough areas to present their own particular problems. District Commissioners are given considerable leeway in the handling of these problems but they must obtain the blessing of the Provincial Commissioner before embarking upon major actions. Let us now turn to the policy of Central Government. It was noted earlier that Tanganyika is administered through the system of Indirect 1

2 3 4

For a full account of the system of Territorial Government in Tanganyika at this period, see Handbook of Tanganyika (1958, ch. iv and VH) and Report for Tanganyika (1958, part v). Hailey (1950, part 1, ch. in) is also useful. There is a good account of the role of the District Commissioner in Tanganyika in Young and Fosbrooke (i960, pp. 119-26). The Swahili word shauri is used to denote any matter needing settlement. The Provincial headquarters of Western Province are in Tabora.

54

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

Rule. Though on the whole successful, this policy has been the source of various paradoxical situations in Unyamwezi. These fall into three main types which may be briefly noted here. 1 First, the authorities through which the Government rules were more or less autonomous in the past. The imposition of a higher authority upon them clearly upsets the balance of the system and involves the chiefs in an extremely difficult role in which they are responsible both to the Government and to their people. The demands of these two parties do not by any means wholly coincide with each other. Secondly, the attempts to give more power to commoners in recent years placed the Government in a position in which they were both supporting and undermining the authority of the chiefs. The situation became most complicated in 1958 and 1959 when commoners began to express themselves as members of the Tanganyika African National Union. The Government supported the idea of commoners taking an active part in chiefdom business but were distressed at the fact that they were starting to become an opposition group. The Government was, in fact, forced to support the chiefs against their subjects on a number of occasions. Thirdly, there is an inherent conflict in the system of Indirect Rule between the need for an efficient administration and the respect for the traditional rights of certain groups and individuals to rule thechiefdoms. This conflict has involved the Government in inconsistencies which do not pass unnoticed by the people. Thus we find examples of ruling families with similar claims to office being allowed to rule in one case but not in another. The result is that the Government is regularly besieged by claims from dispossessed ruling families who argue that they have as much right to rule their own chiefdom as has any other ruling family in the region. Such claims may be made persistently over a period of thirty years or more. A case in point here, and one which I shall have cause to refer to later, is that of the former chiefdom of Ntobo in Kahama District. 3 This chiefdom, which had been given independent status by the Germans, was made into a subchiefdom of the neighbouring chiefdom of 1

2

I do not give a lengthy discussion of them here because there have been several works which deal with their occurrence elsewhere, notably Busia (1951) on the Ashanti, Fallers (1956) on the Soga, and Richards (1960 a, passim) on other parts of the East African area. Early statements of the problems involved may be found in Mair (1936, pp. 36-7) and Fortes and Evans-Pritchard (1940, p. 15). This was a greater headmanship of the Kamba chiefdom of Nsalala when the Germans came (cf. chapter 2). More is said about its early history in chapter 4.

The External Situation

55

Busangi in 1929. In 1936 a new sub-chief was installed upon the death of the previous office-holder, his father, and shortly after his succession he brought a charge of embezzlement against his father's brother who was a salaried headman and his rival for the office of sub-chief. The case was heard by a District federation court of chiefs who discovered that the charge was false and that the sub-chief was merely trying to engineer the downfall of his father's brother. They therefore fined the sub-chief fifty shillings. Further, on the advice of the District Officer who was in charge of Kahama District at this time, they decreed that the sub-chief was to be deposed and his office was to be abolished. Thenceforth Ntobo was to consist merely of two divisions under salaried headmen both of whom were to be directly responsible to the chief of Busangi. This ruling of the federation court was quite irregular since the court was never vested with the power to make such decisions. The decision, however, fitted well with Government's desire to reduce the number of chiefdoms in the area, and it has been upheld ever since in the face of constant complaints from the former ruling family, who claim that it is wrong and contrary to normal Government policy that all of them should have to suffer in this way for the faults of a single individual. The above discussion of some aspects of the policy of Central Government brings the present section to a close. The internal organization of the chiefdoms and also their relations with each other have clearly been strongly affected by the incorporation of the chiefdoms into the Territorial administrative system. I want now to consider the indigenous relationships existing between individual chiefdoms. INDIGENOUS RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN CHIEFDOMS

In this section I shall consider the various inter-chiefdom relationships which are not the direct result of Government policy. It will be necessary to distinguish between those chiefdoms of which the ruling families are members of a single dynasty and those of which the ruling families do not share such common membership. Three types of relationship are relevant here. These are joking relationships between certain ruling families, relationships of ritual dependence, and affinal relationships. As was explained in the last chapter, joking relationships exist between certain royal dynasties whose territories border on each other. Examples are the joking relationship between the Kamba and Sagari dynasties and that between the Sagari and the Nankwila dynasty to

56

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

which Unyanyembe chiefdom belongs. These relationships are distinguished by the people from the joking which takes place between certain categories of kinsfolk and affines. Traditionally the joking took a physical and verbal form but today only verbal joking is found. The chief function of these relationships in the past appears to have been the promotion of good relations between neighbouring and, thus, potentially hostile dynasties, since violence is forbidden between joking partners. This seems to fit well with RadclifFe-Brown's classical discussion ofjoking relationships in which he points out that they occur in situations involving 'social conjunction and social disjunction'.1 Today the presence of the Central Government makes warfare an impossibility and the relationship is of only minor importance. Joking between chiefs is, however, very common when they come together on such occasions as the meetings of the Nyamwezi Federal Council and it may be argued that it plays some part in ensuring that such meetings are conducted in a spirit of friendliness and co-operation. The following example which I heard at a meeting of the Federal Council in November 1959 will show the form such joking takes. Chief of Uyui, a Sagari chief, to the Kamba chief of Mwangoye: * I thought that only chiefs were attending this meeting/ Chief of Mwangoye: 'That is correct.' Chief of Uyui, pointing at a second Kamba chief: 'Then who is this character?' Chief of Mwangoye: ' Don't you know him ? He is the important chief of Busangi.' Chief of Busangi to Chief of Mwangoye: 'Why are you revealing our Kamba secrets to such a creature as this?' And so on. Whereas joking relationships occur between dynasties, relationships of ritual dependence are confined to chiefdoms of a single dynasty. The general rule is that the other chiefdoms of a dynasty are dependent upon the founder chiefdom of the dynasty for their supplies of the regalia of chiefship. Events of the last century and changes introduced by the German administration have, however, influenced the situation. It will be recalled that several of the chiefdoms of central Unyamwezi changed hands at the time of Mirambo's rise to power. These chiefdoms 1

Cf. RadclifFe-Brown (1952, pp. 91, 94-5). The Nyamwezi, and the Sukuma, also joke as a tribe with other tribes of Tanganyika. Cf. Pedler (1940), Moreau (1944), Gulliver (1957, 1958) and Reynolds (1958).

i. The chiefs of Kahama (left) and Karitu at a public function in Kahama Town in 1959.

2 (a). The royal drums of Busangi chiefdom.

2 (b). Some of the royal regalia of Busangi chiefdom.

3 (a). A Rongo blacksmith preparing an arrow-shaft.

3 (b). A public performance by members of one of the local snake-charming societies.

'.*****.

«

i

I 4 (a). Villagers helping to construct a neighbour's house in Busangi chiefdom, 1959.

4 (b). The chief of Uyui (left) receiving the Governor of Tanganyika on an official visit to his chiefdom in 1958.

The External Situation

57

still count as members of their former dynasty for the purposes of joking relationships with other dynasties. They do not, however, recognize dependence on the founder chiefdom of their dynasty for supplies of their regalia. Other sources of supply are used when necessary. It will also be recalled that the Germans created several new chiefdoms by their division of Nsalala, the chiefdom which Nkumbi had retained for himself after his division of the chiefdom of Bukamba among his sisters' sons. These new chiefdoms have never recognized any ritual dependence on another Kamba chiefdom. The chiefdoms created by Nkumbi, however, recognize such dependence on Busangi, which was one of the chiefdoms carved out of Nsalala by the Germans. This is because Busangi was first ruled by the previously reigning chief of Nsalala, and he was succeeded by the son of an earlier chief of that chiefdom. Also, the chiefdom headquarters of Busangi were formerly those of Nsalala. As such Busangi is today considered as the founder chiefdom of the Kamba dynasty. The ritual dependence of which we are talking here amounts to a recognition of the fact that many of the chiefdoms of a dynasty were originally granted independent status by the founder chiefdom and received their regalia of chiefship from that chiefdom. Should the regalia of these chiefdoms need replacing through loss or for any other reason, the chiefs send representatives to the founder chiefdom to ask for a replacement. In fact this happens very rarely and I came across only one case in the course of my fieldwork. Then the chief of Nindo in Shinyanga District sent men to get some new regalia from Busangi. Ritual dependence of this sort does not imply political dependence, and the founder chiefdom of a dynasty has no right to interfere in the internal politics of other chiefdoms in the dynasty. Nor is any special deference given to the founder chiefdom if it is involved in conflict,over boundaries for instance, with another chiefdom of the dynasty.1 The affinal relationships which I have mentioned are those formed by the marriage of a chief, or close dependant of a chief, and a woman whose legal guardian is a chief. I do not possess sufficient information to enable me to state the exact frequency of such royal intermarriage. It is probable, however, that at least one such marriage has been contracted by every Nyamwezi ruling family within the last one hundred years, and several families have, in fact, contracted three or more such marriages within that time. Such marriages may take place between the 1

There was such a dispute between the chiefdoms of Uyui and Puge of the Sagari dynasty in 1959.

58

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

ruling families of chiefdoms belonging to the same or separate dynasties. Not all the ruling families of a single dynasty, however, may intermarry. Thus in the Kamba dynasty it is considered wrong for marriage to take place between ruling families of those chiefdoms which the Germans created by their division of Nsalala. The relationship between them is said to be too close. Marriages between the ruling families of these chiefdoms and those of other chiefdoms of the dynasty are permitted and occasionally occur. Where marriage takes place between two ruling families which stand in a joking relationship to each other, the joking relationship tends to be submerged beneath the ties of kinship and affinity arising from the marriage. The chief of the Sagari chiefdom of Karitu, for example, will not joke with Kamba chiefs because his mother was of Kamba origin. As seen above, however, this does not stop other Sagari chiefs from joking with the Kamba. Traditionally such intermarriage between ruling families was a most important political event, often marking a military alliance between the two chiefdoms concerned. Today, with the abolition of warfare, such marriages are less important, being a sign of an equivalence of social status rather than of a political agreement. They may still possess political significance, however, as may the kinship ties resulting from them. Two examples will serve to illustrate this point. The first example concerns a border dispute which arose in recent years within the Kamba dynasty,between Kahama chiefdom in Kahama District and Lohumbo chiefdom in Shinyanga District. As is common in such cases, the dispute flared up when people started to move into an unsettled area on the edge of the two chiefdoms. In their investigation of the matter the Central Government made use of three native assessors all of whom were chiefs, two being Nyamwezi and the third Sukuma. These three men visited the area in question and gave judgement in support of the chief of Lohumbo, whereupon the chief of Kahama complained that two of them were affines of the chief of Lohumbo and as such were prejudiced in his favour. This claim was examined by the Central Government who discovered that the assessors had only paid a cursory visit to the disputed area and had certainly collected insufficient evidence to make a judgement. Further investigation showed in fact that the area concerned had always been part of Kahama chiefdom. The second example concerns the chiefdom of Busagari in Tabora District. Fig. 9 is useful here. It will be recalled from the last chapter that Busagari had traditionally belonged to a ruling family of the Sagari

The External Situation

59

dynasty. In the last century the chiefship was usurped by Kitamanywa, a kinsman of Mirambo, and his descendants have ruled the chiefdom since that time. In 1958 the chief of Busagari died and the descendants of the old Sagari ruling family felt that this provided a good opportunity

1

Kitamanywa I (chief of Busagari)

^ Kapigawasi (chief of Uyui)

0

Ndeka (chief of Busagari)

Sungulwa

Kitamanywa II (became chief of

Kitambi A (chief of Uyui)

A /\

Busagari in 1959)

•

Dead Alive

Fig. 9. T h e relationship between the chiefs of U y u i and Busagari.

r

Nkandi (chief of Kahama)

A Nsabi (chief of Nsalala)

Kishimba

Genja £ = A w 1 ^

Ngobole (chief of Kahama)

ir- 1 •

1

/ 1• r

1 Kalugula ^ (ex-chief of Busangi)

rrr i

Kishimba (chiet ot Kahama)

^\

, 1 •c c Z -x (chief of Busangi)

\

Kitebi

Nsabi

Mbashani

1

,,/./. / \ (chief of Busangi) ^

Alive Fig. 10. The relationship between the chiefs of Kahama and Busangi.

to voice their claims to rule the chiefdom once more. A fuller discussion of this case is contained in chapter 6. It may be mentioned here, however, that the Sagari chief of Uyui chiefdom was a strong protagonist of the present ruling family in this dispute, supporting them, as his close kinsfolk, against the old Sagari ruling family of the chiefdom. It is of interest here that in the original usurpation of the chiefdom

60

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

from the Sagari, Kitamanywa I is said to have been aided by the Sagari chief of Karitu, whose classificatory daughter he had married. It may be noted that the relationships created by royal intermarriage are only strong when, as in the cases cited, either a living chief is personally involved in such a marriage or two chiefs recognize close kinship through a former marriage. When this is not the case we find the sort of situation shown in Fig. 10. In this diagram Mbashani does not recognize any close relationship with Kishimba. Because of Nzilwa's bridewealth marriage to Genja, however, he has the right to demand to marry a female relative of Kishimba should he wish to do so. Kalugula cannot do this since he himself is a child of Nzilwa's marriage. This right of Mbashani is connected with the traditional Nyamwezi sororate whereby Nzilwa had the right to marry Genja's younger sister upon Genja's death. Unless Mbashani enters into such a marriage, his relationship to Kishimba remains latent and lacks any binding force. Should he decide to do so new bridewealth would have to be paid. At the time of my fieldwork there seemed no likelihood that Mbashani would take advantage of his right to demand a woman from Kishimba.1 CONCLUSION

In the foregoing discussion I have outlined the various relationships in which chiefdoms are linked to the Central Government and to each other. To close this chapter I shall try to sum up the effect of these relationships upon the independent status of the individual chiefdoms. The indigenous relations between chiefdoms which we have described do not appear to be important in this respect. It is only in the case of ritual dependence that one chiefdom may be claimed to be superior to others and this ritual link is not translated into political terms. Rather different is the situation in regard to regional and District federations. We have seen that legislation and taxation are organized upon a district level and that the federations have appeal courts which may reverse the judgements of their member chiefs. It was also pointed out, however, that strict limits are normally placed upon the power 1

Cf. Cory (1955a, p. 18). Although Nzilwa's marriage has established a renewable relationship between the two ruling families, it appears that it is the right to renew the link rather than the need to do so which is recognized. This distinguishes the Nyamwezi situation from that described for the ruling families of Heru and Bunganda in Buha in Richards (19600, p. 215). The nearest Nyamwezi equivalent to the Ha system is the need for certain chiefs to take great wives from a particular kin group in the chiefdom. This is the rule in Busangi, but it is not always properly observed today and its origins and traditional functions are obscure.

The External Situation

61

of the federations to intervene in the domestic affairs of member chiefdoms. The relationships with Central Government itself are certainly the most important in the present context. The chiefs are directly responsible to the Administration who have considerable say in their election and dismissal. As a result it is impossible to analyse the internal structure and organization of the chiefdoms without reference to Central Government and such reference will, in fact, be made quite often in the following chapters.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE CHIEFDOM Within the limits defined in the last chapter, Nyamwezi chiefdoms may be considered as a number of centralized states bounding on each other, and it is the modern structure of these states that I wish to describe in this chapter. In spite of this, some use of historical material will be necessary for a variety of reasons. The people themselves often justify present custom in terms of it having 'been so in the past', and, as we have seen, the policy of Indirect Rule presumes that the present political system is based on a traditional foundation. In addition, the importance of descent as a criterion of a person's eligibility to hold political office necessitates the use of genealogical evidence in any investigation of Nyamwezi political structure. THE FRAMEWORK OF GOVERNMENT

The political organization of a Nyamwezi chiefdom is based upon a pyramidal hierarchy of territorial offices. Thus in Busangi chiefdom there is a chief who rules the whole chiefdom and under him there are four salaried headmen with administrative and judicial functions. Each of these salaried headmen is in charge of a territorial division which I call a village cluster, and the four divisions together cover the total area of the chiefdom. Each village cluster is composed of a number of villages in the charge of unsalaried headmen who are subordinate to the salaried headmen of the cluster. Two clusters, however, also contain a village which is administered directly by the salaried headmen. As mentioned in chapter i, I use the term 'village' to refer to the smallest officially recognized territorial divisions of a chiefdom. I retain the term for the two last-mentioned settlements because they are not subsumed under the authority of another village headman and are thus recognized as being separate units. It will be recalled from the last chapter that the system of salaried and unsalaried headmen was introduced about 1930 by the British administration.1 The unsalaried headmen receive a small payment each 1

The three classes of territorial officers described here, i.e. chiefs, salaried headmen and unsalaried headmen, do not coincide exactly with the Sukuma office-holders designated 162 ]

The Structure of the Chiefdom

63

year from the Native Treasury provided that they have sufficient taxpayers under them, and this payment is commonly described by the Swahili word zawadi, which means a gift. This is to distinguish it from the monthly payments made to chiefs and salaried headmen which are known as mshahara, the Swahili word for wage. More will be said about these payments later. The European administration and some of the people themselves use a regular set of terms for the divisions and offices outlined above. Thus the chief is called mtemi and his chiefdom utemi.1 The salaried headman is called mwanangwa and is in charge of zgunguli. The unsalaried headman is called mzenga kaya in the north and mkubwa wa kipande in the south.* The area under his control is called kijiji in the north and kipande in the south. These words are not all used 'accurately' by the majority of people. This is partly due to the fact that some of the terms, kijiji for example, are Swahili ones to which the people tend to equate Nyamwezi words of wider meaning. Another reason is that some of the words are Nyamwezi ones which traditionally connote somewhat different distinctions from those outlined above. The word mwanangwa is a case in point here. Originally this word meant the son of a chief. The son of a mwanangwa was called mwizukulu, which is the ordinary word for grandson. Such a statement, however, as 'this man was a grandson' (munhu uyu wali mwizukulu) would usually be taken to mean, unless further qualified, that the person was the son of a mwanangwa. The son of a mwizukulu was called mwanangwa, following the normal pattern for Nyamwezi kinship terminology whereby alternate generations are linked together. Both these terms were used to denote territorial office-holders in the past since, as was seen in chapter 2, patrilineal descendants of chiefs very commonly held headmanships. They are, moreover, still used in this way when people are discussing the traditional political system and this clearly contrasts with official usage in which the term mwizukulu is not used at all and the term mwanangwa refers to a village cluster headman

1 2

as Chiefs of Class I, Class II and Class III by Liebenow (i960). Nyamwezi chiefs coincide with Liebenow's Class I, and salaried headmen coincide with his Class III. Unsalaried headmen are roughly the equivalent of his * unofficial junior headmen' (i960, p. 252), to whom no class is ascribed. These 'junior headmen' are commonly in charge of smaller areas than are the Nyamwezi unsalaried headmen. Liebenow's Class II is the equivalent of the Nyamwezi sub-chiefs discussed later in the present section. These are Swahili forms of the Nyamwezi terms ntemi and butemi. As mentioned in chapter 1, mzenga kaya literally means the 'builder of a homestead or settlement'. Mkubwa wa kipande means the * leader of a (territorial) section'.

64

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

irrespective of descent. Further, we find a third use of the term mwanangwa which combines some features of the two already noted since the people also use it without reference to generation to describe a village headman who is patrilineally descended from a chief. It may be noted, however, that although confusion occasionally occurs as a result of this and similar mixtures of traditional and modern usages, really serious misunderstandings do not seem to be produced by them. In the larger Nyamwezi chiefdoms the hierarchy of offices commonly contains a further tier between the chief and the salaried headmen. This may exist to facilitate the administration of the chiefdom or it may be due to the incorporation of a formerly independent unit into another chiefdom. The result is that a chiefdom has within it one or more divisions which possess their own courts for settling cases. Appeal from these courts goes to the chief's court. The head of such a division may be called a sub-chief and he has under him a hierarchy of salaried and unsalaried headmen as described for Busangi chiefdom. Some notion of the relationship between the size of a chiefdom and the territorial hierarchy within it may be obtained from Table 6. Table 6. Relationship between size of population and territorial hierarchy in four chiefdoms* Chiefdom Masumbwe Busangi

Population, 1957 961 4>7H

Uyui

14,464

Unyanyembe

72,964

Territorial arrangements

One salaried headman with subordinate unsalaried headmen Four salaried headmen with subordinate unsalaried headmen One sub-chiefdom; total of nine salaried headmen, three of whom are subject to the sub-chief, with subordinate unsalaried headmen Eleven sub-chiefdoms, each with a hierarchy of subordinate salaried and unsalaried headmen

* I am unable to give an exact account of the area of all these chiefdoms, but it may be noted that in this particular case area and size of population are roughly proportional to each other. It will be recalled from chapter 1 that Unyanyembe chiefdom has an area of about 10,000 square miles.

In addition to the hierarchy of territorial officers there are a number of other office-holders in the chiefdoms. Some of these assist the chiefs and sub-chiefs in their administrative and judicial duties and others have ritual functions. The situation is as follows.

The Structure of the Chiefdorn

6$

Every chiefdom or sub-chiefdom court has three court elders who assist the chief or sub-chief in the settling of cases. Commonly a chief will also have a deputy who can hear cases and act generally on his behalf. Sometimes two chiefs of neighbouring chiefdoms may share such a deputy. Every court also has two messengers and at least one clerk. The messengers are called by the Swahili name tarishi or by the Nyamwezi name katikiro. They have uniforms which they must wear on duty. Their work includes the maintenance of order in the court, the arresting of suspects and the collection of witnesses. They are also responsible for guarding any public money kept at chiefdom or sub-chiefdom headquarters. Apart from these specific tasks, they often act as personal servants to the chief and it is not uncommon to find them being sent on private errands. The court clerks have a variety of duties. They are the recorders of court cases and during a case they may bring to the court's notice some point of written law. They also perform general clerical work such as the sending of official letters and the distribution of licences and receipts for the payment of taxes. As in the traditional system, the ritual officers are the ngabe, the kitunga, and the group of men called banyikulu or bagohogoho. Their functions are still those of supervising the installation and the funeral rites of chiefs but they no longer possess the power which they had to control the succession. The bagohogoho still look after the regalia of chiefship and assist the chief in the performance of his ritual duties. Such then, briefly, are the offices within a Nyamwezi chiefdom.1 I want now to consider the actual office-holders and their recruitment, starting with the chiefs. Chiefs

It was mentioned in chapter 2 that Nyamwezi chiefs are chosen by the subjects of their chiefdom. Ideally the system is one of organized election by the taxpayers of a chiefdom from a group of candidates eligible in terms of descent. Commonly, however, the list of candidates is winnowed down by Central Government, persons with criminal records or with known bad habits being thrown out of the competition. Sometimes a further candidate is added to the list at the instigation of the Central Government. Usually there is a candidate known to be favoured 1

Some other officials, such as Government Veterinary Guards, also live in the chiefdoms, but are outside the scope of the present discussion.

66

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

by them. The wishes of the previous chief may also be respected and the missions are occasionally able to wield some influence. It is clear, however, that the support of Government for a particular person's candidature is an important factor in that person's favour. More will be said about this in chapter 6. Chiefs are chosen for life and their deposition presents many difficulties. The fact that they are chosen by the people does not mean that the people can dismiss them. In the Ngaya chiefdom of Kahama District, for example, it became clear during 1958 and 1959 that a large number of people disliked their chief and several requests were made to the District Commissioner asking for him to be deposed. The District Commissioner told the people that if charges of criminal activity could be brought and proved against the chief, then he could be removed. The fact that they disliked him was of itself an insufficient reason for his deposition. Eventually the animosity of the people rose to such a pitch that a riot took place in which the chief's house was burned down about his head and he was only rescued by the timely arrival of an expedition from the District Headquarters.1 In general two main sorts of reason are considered satisfactory by the Government for the dismissal of a chief. The first is his commission of a breach of the law, the commonest example probably being the misappropriation of public funds. The second is his failure to rule efficiently, that is, to carry out the specific duties of a chief such as the collection of taxes and the impartial hearing ofcourt cases. The deposing of chiefs has, however, become less common in recent years. It will be recalled that since 1953 the permission of the Governor of Tanganyika has been necessary for the dismissal of a chief, and it appears that this has resulted in the following up of only the most serious and clearcut cases of misbehaviour by chiefs. Before the 1953 ordinance, the views of individual District Commissioners appear to have carried more weight in such matters. In 1947 and 1948, for instance, a considerable number of Kahama District chiefs were deposed by the District Commissioner of the period, and it is doubtful whether the reasons for which some of them were dismissed would have been held to be sufficient in more recent years. I now present some information on the relationship of chiefs to previous rulers, their past occupations and education, their age, and the length of time that they have been in office. Table 7 contains data on the relationships of ten Nyamwezi chiefs 1

There are more details of this case in chapter 7.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

67

to their immediate predecessors in office. It also shows whether their fathers were themselves chiefs at some time. The ten cases do not form a random sample of the chiefdoms. They may, however, be taken as showing some of the different routes succession has followed. In eight out of the ten cases the father of the present chief had at some time himself been chief. I should also add that in the two cases where this was not so, the relationship between the present and the previous chief was traceable through males.1 Table 7. Data concerning the immediate predecessors in office and the fathers often Nyamwezi chiefs Chiefdom

Relationship of present to last chief

Busangi Ukamba Ngogwa

Did father of present chief rule?

Classificatory son Classificatory father No previous chief. The area was until German times a headmanship. The previous ruler was the father of the present chief Classificatory son Classificatory son Classificatory cross-cousin Daughter Younger son Younger brother None (chiefdom fell into unrelated hands)

Masumbwe Kahama Ibili Karunde Uyui Unyanyembe Busongo

No Yes Yes

(as headman) No

Yes* Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes

* The father of the chief of Kahama ruled at the time when the chiefdom was split into two. He ruled the western half of the chiefdom.

In all cases except that of Busongo, the present chief is related to his immediate predecessor. In Busongo the chiefdom is said to have passed to a friend and sub-chief of the present chief's father on the latter's death. When this man died the chiefdom was claimed back and it was given to a man who was later said to be of slave origin. On this man's death the present chief succeeded to the chiefship. Figs. 11-14, taken from four chiefdoms, will give some notion of the passage of the chiefship through time within a group of kin. The order of succession is marked alphabetically. In general we may say that the chiefship today passes ideally within a group of agnates. Direct father-to-son succession is not necessary nor is there any rule of primogeniture when such succession does take place. 1

Cf. Fig. 11 for the situation in Busangi chiefdom. 5-2

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

68

Thus the present chief of Uyui succeeded his father despite the presence and competition of an eligible elder brother. Daughters may succeed, but women chiefs are rare and, in fact, the chief of Karunde is at present the only one in Unyamwezi. The presence of kinship links to A Nsabi (ruled Nsalala) Nzilwa(A)

I

o=A=o Nsabi(B) A

A Kitebi

A Kalugula (C)

A Nsabi

(deposed)

k

Mbashani (D) (present chief)

Fig. I I . Busangi chiefs.

i Isamba

i

Kiyenzile (ruled)

k

Kapulilo (A)

Lukuba (B)

i

k

) Mlelwa

uli (ruled)

) Nyamizi

Ludamila (C) (deposed)

Kapulilo (E) (present chief)

) Nshoma

k

Ngalula* (D) (deposed)

Fig. 12. Ibili chiefs. * The apparent anomaly of Ngalula's succession is explained at least in part by the fact that he was appointed by the chief of Unyanyembe when Ibili had temporarily become a sub-chiefdom of that chiefdom.

former chiefs is held to be a necessary criterion of eligibility to hold chiefly office but there is commonly more than one candidate for the office. The choice of a particular candidate as chief, then, may depend on his possession of qualities other than simple eligibility in terms of descent. The nature of some of these qualities will become clear in the discussion which follows. Data on the previous occupations, education, age and length of tenure of office of chiefs are contained in Tables 8 (a), 8 (b), and 8 (c).1 1

I have no information for Uyogo chiefdom in Kahama District.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

69

Nkandi (A) (empowered by the Germans to rule half the chiefdom)

Ndega (C) (starts with half but gets whole chiefdom)

1

Kishimba (died before Nkandi)

A , Ng°bOk\Vj. in *r* (gets Nkandi s half)

, Kibela (D) (deposed) r

1 Kishimba (E) ^-^ (present chief)

Fig. 13. Kahama chiefs. Mkindo (A) (deposed by Mirambo) I

ir

M /T-\

Katuga M o t o l

I Kazwika (E) A (deposed by Germans) 1

I /^Mirambo(B)

f 1 A 11 ^ by I (deposed Germans)

^ M k i n d o (J)

1 A . Mpandachalo (C)

I

1 O

I Masele

T,.

,~x

1 Kiwete (G) O (deposed by British)

(deposed 1

Fig. 14. Ulyankulu chiefs.* * This diagram shows an atypical outcome to the problem of the existence of two rival families whose claims to rule antedate European government. It seems likely that the chiefdom will remain n o w with the descendants of Mkindo (A).

Table 8 (a). Data on the previous occupations, education, age and length of tenure of office of Tabora District chiefs, as at early i960 Approximate Years in office age

Chief of

Previous work

Schooling

Uyui Karunde Ibili Busagari Ulyankulu Uyowa Bukumbi Ngulu

Headman Married woman None Chief's deputy None Chief's deputy Headman Asst. agricultural officer

6 years 4 years 4 years 4 years None 4 years None Makerere

60

15

50 40 40 40 40 60

22

45

20

4 years None Makerere

45 55

31

40

3

Ugunda Kiwere Unyanyembe

?

Headman Agricultural officer

21 1

6 8 21

8

70

Political Organization of Unyamwezi Table 8 (b). Data on the previous occupations, education, age and length of tenure of office ofNzega District chiefs as at early ig6o

Chief of

Previous work

Busongo Unyambiyu Nyawa Mwakarunde Ndala Karitu

Teacher Wireless operator None

Puge Mwangoye

Farmer None

Clerk }

Clerkl P "° v i n c i a l ClerkJ a Imn*

Schooling io years io years 8 years 9 years I I years None (but literate) 4 years 2 years

ApproxiYears in mate age

office

40 40

16 17

45

6

40

II

45

4 6o

30

9 46

75-80 6o

Table 8 (c). Data on the previous occupations, education, age and length of tenure of office of Nyamwezi chiefs in Kahama District as at early i960

Chief of

Previous work

Schooling

Mpunze Bulungwa Busangi Ngogwa Ngaya Kahama Lunguya Ukamba Ukune Masumbwe Ushetu

Policeman Bush-school teacher Veterinary guard Headman Headman Court elder

5 years

7

Farmer Creameries Clerk Schoolboy 7

7

4 years None None 1 year None 7

6 years 7 years None

Approximate

Years in

age

office

40 50

10

55 75 55 65 60

45 45 45 35

6 12

53 12

13 28

4 9 22 11

The material in these tables gives us some picture of the types of people holding chiefly office. It may be noted that considerable differences exist both in education and in occupations followed prior to becoming chiefs. Table 9 summarizes the material on education. With regard to previous occupations, it may be seen that seven of the nineteen Nzega and Tabora chiefs had worked for Central Government in some capacity before becoming chiefs. Six others had previous experience in Native Administration as headmen or chief's deputies. In Kahama four out of eleven had had work of a sort likely to prove

The Structure of the Chiefdom

71

valuable to them as chiefs and a further three had previous experience as headmen or court elders. Differences in the educational and occupational backgrounds of chiefs are due to a variety of factors. First, the policy of Central Government which recognizes the rights of certain kin groups to provide the chiefs implies the recognition of chiefs already in office when the British took over Tanganyika in 1916. Three chiefs still survive from this period. Secondly, this policy implies a recognition of a limited body of candidates for a vacant chiefship and the number and quality of candidates will, of course, vary from time to time and place to place.1 Table 9. Education of Nyamwezi chiefs Chiefs with no formal schooling Chiefs with primary-school education (1-4 years) Chiefs with middle-school education (5-8 years) Chiefs with secondary-school education (9-12 years) Chiefs with post-secondary education (Makerere) Insufficient information Total

8 9 5 4 2 3 31

In spite of variations that occur, however, the educational and occupational qualifications of Nyamwezi chiefs, considered as a group, are much above the average for the area.2 The Government does, in fact, try as hard as possible to ensure that those chosen to be chiefs are both educated and experienced in some form of administration. The Government School in Tabora was originally started in 1925 for the education of sons of chiefs thought likely to succeed to the chiefship and several of the present chiefs were educated there. Succession to chiefship has even been delayed while the heir apparent has obtained experience in Native Administration. Thus in the now abolished chiefdom of Mhalu in Kahama District a youth chosen to succeed to the chiefship was first given work as a court clerk in order to gain such experience before taking over the reins of government. Meanwhile the chiefdom was placed under the tutelage of a neighbouring chief.3 In addition to the material presented in the tables it may be noted that five out of the eight Nzega chiefs speak good English and two of them have been to England. One of these two has held a portfolio as an 1 2 3

The election of the illiterate chief of Ngaya in 1948 was due to such factors. In this they are similar to Sukuma chiefs, though the latter are on average better educated than their Nyamwezi counterparts. Cf. Liebenow (i960, p. 257). Cf. chapter 6 for further details of this case.

72

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

Assistant Minister in the Central Government during his period of office. The other was an official representative of Tanganyika at the opening of the Owen Falls Dam in Uganda. Of the two Tabora chiefs who have received higher education at Makerere College, one has held a portfolio as an Assistant Minister in the Central Government and at the time of my fieldwork was the Deputy Speaker of the Tanganyika Legislative Council. The other was holding a Ministerial post in Central Government, having appointed his younger brother to look after his chiefdom for him. Each of these two chiefs has been to England. None of the Kahama chiefs has travelled abroad or held a position in the Central Government. None of them speaks English well, and a few of them are quite illiterate. Headmen

We have seen above that there exist two grades of headmen in the chiefdom hierarchy and that these two grades correspond with territorial divisions of the chiefdom. I want here to discuss how persons are recruited to these offices. The situation is a complex one, since not all headmanships of either grade are held by kinship groups and there are different ways in which a kinship group or individual may come to hold a headmanship. Because of this it will be worth while to present information on a number of particular headmen before embarking upon a general discussion of the sorts of people holding headmanships and the methods of appointing and dismissing them. First, then, let us examine the situation as it is today in the two chiefdoms of Busangi and Uyui.1 I shall present information about salaried headmen in both chiefdoms and about some of the unsalaried headmen in Busangi. Busangi chiefdom contains four village clusters called Busangi, Mpangala, Ntobo and Gula. The relationship between the salaried headman of Busangi village cluster and the chief is shown in Fig. 15. He is only very distantly related to his predecessor in the office and his right to rule does not depend upon this fact. More important is his tie to Chief Nsabi I. This chief was the ruler of the old pre-German unit of Nsalala and in terms of the traditional matrilineal succession system both the sons of Shija would have been eligible to succeed to the chiefship. In this sense Mihambo is the son of a potential chief and as such a potential mwanangwa in his own right. Even this consideration is, however, secondary. Mihambo's position as the salaried headman of 1

I exclude here the portion of Uyui under a sub-chief.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

73

Busangi village cluster is ultimately based upon the fact that he is a close personal follower of the present chief, Mbashani, who appointed him. Exact nature of this tie unclear kXT , . T / L . r fM » 1 \ i Nsabi I (chief of Nsalala).

£ j Nkwimba

, Kitebi

O

XT i • Nsabl

Shi a

J

Masanja (elder brother)'

/i•c m -\ (chief of Busangi) N ^'

/ \ Mihambov (headman of Busanei village 6 ^~* , ,, 5 cluster and known as 'son of Nsabi')

Fig. 15. The relationship between the headman of Busangi village cluster and his chief.

The salaried headmanship of Mpangala village cluster is vested in a segment of the ruling family of the chiefdom. The internal structure of such segments and their relationships to each other are somewhat complicated and will be discussed later in the chapter. The present headman is a cross-cousin of the man who should by rights be headman. He was put in this position because it was considered that the rightful successor was too young and inexperienced for the work. His relationship to the rightful successor is shown in Fig. 16. Nzuki, Mashimba (the grandfather), Ntabo, Madenda and Paulo were all headmen, ruling in the stated order. The present system of salaried and unsalaried headmen was introduced in the time of Ntabo. It will be seen that the succession has followed a very narrow course except in the case of Misana. The relationship of Nzuki's line to that of the chief is something like that shown in Fig. 17. Various accounts exist and it is hard to reconcile them. The diagram is consistent with the kinship terms of address used between the two lines and also with the stated rules of succession for chiefs and headmen in the past and at the present time. More than this cannot be said except that the link is certainly no closer than that shown on the diagram. The salaried headman of Ntobo village cluster is not related to the line which ruled the former chiefdom of Ntobo until 1936.1 In that 1

Cf. chapter 3.

74

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

year the former chiefdom was abolished and made into the two Busangi village clusters of Ntobo and Gula. The predecessor of the present headman was a member of Ntobo's chiefly line. The present headman claims descent from the headmen of Ntobo village, which is Sana

Exact nature of this tie unclear k

Mgima

)Sana

Misana (present headman)

Nzuki

. Mashimba

Madenda

Z A Mashimba (rightful successor)

Ntabo • (elder brother)

1

Paulo (elder brother)

Fig. 16. The relationship between the headman of Mpangala village cluster and the rightful successor to the office.

Q Bumholya Mwendabanhu II (chief of Nsalala)

k

i Malv

Nungili

Golola

A Nzuki

. Mashimba

t

Ntabo

/ \ Madenda

k

Nsabi I (chief of Nsalala)

k

Nzilwa (chief of Busangi) Kalugula (chief of Busangi)

Fig. 17. The relationship of Nzuki's line to that of the chiefs of Busangi.

one of the villages in Ntobo village cluster. Before becoming salaried headman he was, in fact, the headman of that village. His relationship to the chiefs of Busangi is obscure and his present position is apparently due less to his descent than to the fact that he is a faithful supporter of the present chief, who appointed him in an effort to counterbalance the

The Structure of the Chiefdom

75

considerable influence which the former ruling family of Ntobo chiefdom still wields in the area. Many members of this family, which is a regular source of trouble to the chief of Busangi, are resident in Gula and Ntobo village clusters, and three village headmanships are held by them. The salaried headman of the Gula village cluster also has close connexions with them. Fig. 18 is relevant here. Mbati was a favourite slave of Mhulingi. Having demonstrated his prowess in war he was given a village to rule in Ntobo. On the abolition of slavery the chief of Mbogwe paid redemption money for Mbati but the latter refused to return to Mbogwe. His a man of the neighbouring Sumbwa chiefdom of Mbogwe

Mbati, slave of A Mhulingi who became chief of Ntobo

Kashindye

k

/ \ Msekela (chief of Ntobo)

Mlekwa (headman of Gula village cluster)

A Mlenda (sub-chief of Ntobo) I Jl Muyugi (sub-chief of Ntobo, ^-^ deposed in 1936)

Fig. 18. The link between the headman of Gula village cluster and Ntobo's chiefly line.

grandson Mlekwa is a loyal supporter of Ntobo's chiefly line though he is careful not to enter into open conflict with his chief. The relationship of Mhulingi to the chiefs of Busangi is something like that shown in Fig. 19. This diagram is consistent in itself but it is difficult to reconcile it with Fig. 17 presented in connexion with the headmanship of Mpangala village cluster. There Chief Mwendabanhu II is listed as the son of Bumholya. If both diagrams were correct it would seem that a chief had taken his mother's brother's name upon succession to the chiefship, and to my knowledge this is not possible. The last diagram is, in fact, a composite one and the solution to the problem appears to lie in the fact that detailed knowledge about the history of a royal line is mainly the affair of that royal line. The failure of a detail of ^4's information to be consistent with a detail of JB'S when A and B are royal lines is in this sense irrelevant.1 1

Cf. Leach (1954, p. 85) and also chapter 6.

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

76

(

Mwendabanhu I (chief of Nsalala)

) Bumholya

. Moto

) Malwa

i Swagi

Nungili

k

Nsabi I (chief of Nsalala)

Nsato

Mhulingi (became chief of Ntobo)

A Nzilwa (chief of Busangi)

Fig. 19. The relationship between the ruling lines of Ntobo and Busangi.

Let us now consider the six salaried headmanships in Uyui, excluding its sub-chiefdom. Fig. 20 is useful here. Salum, Mirambo and Masudi each hold one of the six village clusters. A fourth was held by Kulwa, who gave up the work. In her place the chief appointed her former assistant, a non-related man of proved Kapigawasi (previous chief) ief)A Kitambi ^A (present chief)

^

Salum

Mirambo

Masudi

A O Alive Fig. 20. Some members of Uyui ruling family, 1959.

trustworthiness. Of the other two village clusters, one is held by a close confidant of the chief. This headman, who is also a long-standing resident of his village cluster, calls himself'son of Kitambi' though he is only distantly related to the chief. The exact relationship is obscure, but according to one version the headman's father was a classificatory sister's son of Kapigawasi, the father of the present chief. The other village cluster is held by a distinct segment of the ruling family of the

The Structure of the Chiefdom

77

chiefdom. Some say that the members of this segment are the rightful rulers of the chiefdom. Others say that they are merely holders of the office oingabe.1 Thus three out of the six salaried headmen are very close patrilineal kinsmen of the chief Two of these are sons of the previous chief, as is the present chief; and one is the son of the present chief himself. Two other salaried headmanships are held by trusted personal followers of the chief and one man is a salaried headman in virtue of his membership of a distinct kin group which possesses rights to hold the office. Before proceding to discuss unsalaried headmen we may note that three main types of village cluster headmen emerge from the material discussed above. First there are the actual sons of chiefs. Then there are men who owe their office to the fact that they are personal supporters of the chief in power. Lastly there are those who hold their office because of their membership of a distinct kin group in which it is vested. I turn now to unsalaried village headmanships and, more particularly, to an examination of the holders of these offices in Gula and Mpangala village clusters in Busangi chiefdom. There are eight villages in Gula village cluster and I shall consider each in turn. Gula village cluster Villages | G u l a I

I Mhandu

c h d a

I Mwanzimba Bukumbi and Nundu

I Masabi

Igobole

I Busungo

Gula village. The village headman is a son of Msekela, the former chief of Ntobo. Before he took office about ten years ago there was no special unsalaried headman there. The village was administered by the salaried headman, Mlekwa, whose homestead was in the village. Mhandu. The village headman of Mhandu holds his office in virtue of his membership of a kin group whose members trace patrilineal descent from Chief Mwendabanhu I of Nsalala. He claims his line is of equal status to that of the former chiefs of Ntobo. Chela. The village headman of Chela claims that his family have been in the area for many generations and that their rights to rule it were recognized by the chiefs of Ntobo. He says that he has kinship with the chief of Busangi because he is a headman but claims no genealogical ties to the chief. Bukumbi. The village headman of Bukumbi is another son of Msekela. 1

I was unable to establish the truth of these various claims.

78

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

The village was abandoned for some time and was resettled some fifteen to twenty years ago. At first it was placed under the salaried headman of Mpangala, but Mlekwa claimed it should be his and his claim was upheld. Mwanzimba and Nundu. These are two recent settlements which border on each other. They are under a single village headman in Mwanzimba. This man is a Sukuma immigrant from the north and was the first to clear bush in the area a few years ago. Nundu is not yet thought large enough to have its own headman. Both settlements are populated mainly by Sukuma and the chief thought it wise to allow them to choose their own headman rather than impose one from outside. Masabi. This is the village of the kinship group of the ngabe, one of the ritual officers of the chiefdom. The village headman is the ngabe himself. The kinship group formerly held the office of ngabe for the whole of the old chiefdom of Nsalala. They do not claim to be descended from a former chief and the original reasons for their holding of the village are obscure. Igobole. The village headman of Igobole belongs to a kin group which holds long-standing rights to rule the village. He does not claim to be of royal descent. He says, however, that there is kinship between himself and the chief of Busangi 'through the land and through the work'. Busungo. This village has become very sparsely populated in recent years and there were only two homesteads there at the time of my fieldwork. It has been administered directly by the salaried headman Mlekwa since the death of its last village headman in 1957. I will sum up briefly for Gula before considering the situation in the Mpangala village cluster. Two of the seven Gula village headmen are sons of a former chief of Ntobo, of which the village cluster was formerly a part, and another rules because he was the first to clear land within his village. With the exception of Busungo, the remaining villages are each vested in a kinship group. One of these holds the office of ngabe though it is not clear whether its holding of the headmanship is due to this or whether it, in fact, predates the holding of the ritual office. Another claims to be a segment of the ruling family of the pre-German chiefdom of Nsalala. Although conclusive evidence is lacking, it appears likely that the founding ancestors of the other two kinship groups were the first men to clear land in the villages concerned.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

79

The Mpangala village cluster contains six villages. Mpangala village cluster

Villages I ' I

M

P

a n

g

a l a

I B u b a n g a I

Butumwa

Ntundu

MuhidaI Kibama

Before the introduction of the system of salaried and unsalaried headmen Mpangala consisted of the area covered today by Mpangala, Butumwa and Bubanga villages. Ntundu and Muhida were of similar status to Mpangala, and Kibama, being very close to the chief's court, did not have a headman. The contemporary situation is as follows: Mpangala village. The village headman of Mpangala is a classificatory sister's son of Ntabo, the former headman of the village cluster, who appointed him because of this relationship. As in the case of Gula village, described above, the appointment of a special headman for the village of Mpangala post-dates the establishment of the system of salaried and unsalaried headmen. Butumwa. The village headman of Butumwa is a full sister's son of Ntabo and he holds the office in virtue of this fact. He was appointed by Ntabo. Bubanga. The village headman of Bubanga is only distantly related to the ruling line of Mpangala village cluster. He traces independent patrilineal descent to a former chief. Ntundu. The village headman of Ntundu claims no kinship either to the chiefor to Ntabo. His claims to the village depend upon the fact that it was cleared by his ancestors. His elder brother, who declined the office, married Ntabo's sister and is the father of the headman of Butumwa. Such a marriage would have been impossible had kinship been claimed between him and Ntabo. His rights to office depend upon the recognition of the chief rather than that of the ruling line of Mpangala village cluster. This is consonant with the former independent status of the village. Muhida. The village headman of Muhida holds his office in virtue of his membership of a group which traces patrilineal descent to a former chief. Branches of his line hold villages in another Kamba chiefdom. His status is similar to that of the headman of Ntundu. Kibama. The village headman of Kibama is a classificatory crosscousin of Ntabo. Theexact relationship is shown in Fig. 21. He was made a headman by Ntabo when Kibama was incorporated into the village cluster. Because of the distance of the kinship tie, people jokingly say

80

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

that Kibama has been entrusted to 'the son of a son-in-law', but Ilale had lived at Ntabo's homestead for many years prior to his appointment. NzukiA Mashimba A> Ntabo L\

(jDoto O Malwa JLS. Hale (headman of Kibama)

Fig. 21. The relationship between the headman of Kibama village and Ntabo, former headman of Mpangala.

The situation in Mpangala village cluster can, then, be described as follows. Three of the six village headmen owe their position to their kinship links with a former headman of the village cluster, that is, Ntabo. They were in fact appointed by him. The other three village headmanships belong to kin groups. Two of these trace independent links to former chiefs and the third holds the village because its ancestors were the first to clear land there. The situation with regard to headmen as a whole may now be summarized. It can be seen that certain headmanships are held by kinship groups and that the individual headmen hold their office in virtue of their membership of these groups. Other headmanships are held by individuals for different reasons. Some of them are sons of chiefs, others are close personal associates of chiefs, and others may have been the first to clear land in the areas they rule. It should be noted, however, that the founding ancestors of the kinship groups which today hold headmanships were themselves made headmen for similar reasons to those just described.1 I shall return to this point later in my discussion of the systems of appointing and dismissing headmen. Certain similarities and differences between the salaried and unsalaried grades of headmen emerge from the material set out above. First, it may be noted that headmanships of either grade may be held by kinship groups which trace descent from former chiefs. Moreover, the form of the descent line traced is essentially the same in either case. This is often due to the reorganizations which took place when the British formally established the two grades of headmanship, since the introduction of this system allowed certain headmen to obtain control of other villages in the capacity of salaried wanangwa. An example of this 1

The kinship group holding Masabi village and the ritual office of ngabe is a possible exception.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

81

was the incorporation of Ntundu and Muhida into Mpangala village cluster. This phenomenon, however, has some parallels in the past, and the history of the old greater headmanship of Ntobo in Nsalala chiefdom is a case in point here. It is said that the ruling line of this area moved in the last century from a small village in what is today Ngaya chiefdom, and began to live near the chief's headquarters which were then at a place called Igalukilo. This place is in the present village cluster of Ntobo. Once arrived they started to terrorize the area and gain control of the surrounding villages. Eventually the chief himself, Nsabi I, fled to the present site of Busangi chiefdom headquarters. He did this because the greater headmanship of Ntobo was being formed at his expense out of the villages directly subject to him. Thus by force of arms one village headman and his followers were able to subjugate a number of similar village headmen. An extreme example of the influence of the European administration in these matters is the case of the headman of Morogoro village in Uyui chiefdom. The present village headman of Morogoro was recognized as a sub-chief by the German administration and he possesses royal regalia. The number of his subjects has dwindled, mainly owing to the incursion of tsetse fly into his area, and today he is just an unsalaried village headman, though his superiors may call him ntemi out of politeness. His own villagers clap hands to him in greeting, thus recognizing his former chiefly status. Turning now to the distinctions between the salaried and unsalaried headmen, we find that there are no examples of the sons of ruling chiefs holding unsalaried headmanships. I have never met with an example, though there may be cases of which I am unaware. A case where an unsalaried headman was the son of a former chief is discussed below. One reason for the rarity of such office-holders might be the unrewarding nature of the work coupled with the fact that village headmanship is too humble a position for a potential heir to the chiefship. Moreover, it is usual for unsalaried headmen to have close connexions with their village and a chief's son brought up at the chief's headquarters would be unsuitable in this respect. Again, it would appear to be to the advantage of a chief himself to have his sons as salaried rather than unsalaried headmen. First, as potential successors to his position they are less likely to become his actual rivals if they hold a more rewarding post. Secondly, providing they are faithful to their father, their loyalty to him, unlike that of members of a local office-holding kin group, will

82

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

be undivided and they can thus serve as a useful check against any sectional interests in the chiefdom. As such their usefulness to him is in proportion to the number of his subjects they control. Most chiefs like to have their sons as headmen and the reason headmen of this sort are not found in Busangi is simply that the chief has not got any sons. We have seen that the daughters of chiefs may also hold headmanships. Women are, in fact, more often found as headmen than as chiefs but this is probably due to the numerical preponderance of headmanships over chiefships. Personal associates of chiefs are also rare as village headmen. Only two such cases were encountered in the course of my fieldwork though there are no doubt others, and in these two cases the men seem to have been appointed for their loyalty rather than for their administrative capabilities. Similar arguments to those advanced about the sons of chiefs would seem to be applicable in this context. Provided personal associates are of the required ability, they are more useful to a chief as headmen of village clusters, because they will control more subjects for him in that post. Like the sons of chiefs, they may provide a check upon disruptive forces in the chiefdom, and the salaried headman of Ntobo village cluster was appointed with this end in view. Personal associates, however, have the added advantage for a chief that they are not potential rivals for his office and they are therefore useful as a counterbalance to such rivals.1 In further contrast with the sons of chiefs, personal associates are often well-established residents of the village clusters which are placed under their control. Lastly, we may note that the first clearers of unoccupied bush only obtain village headmanships. This is reasonable enough when we consider that such men are the founders of new villages rather than of new village clusters. Cases may exist, however, where descendants of such men are now in charge of village clusters. This will normally be due to the administrative changes which have been described above. Let us now turn to the systems of appointing and dismissing headmen. Since at least as early as 1925 the British administration have stated that headmen in Unyamwezi should be chosen through a system of popular elections. We have seen, however, that a considerable number of headmanships are held by sons and personal associates of chiefs, and these men are, in fact, appointed by the chiefs themselves. Again, if a headmanship is held by a particular kinship group the main task of choosing the headman is in the hands of that kinship group, who will 1

Comparative treatment of this topic is reserved for chapter 9.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

83

consult with the chief about their choice. This situation is possible because there still remains some feeling among the subjects of a chiefdom that the choosing of rulers, like the business of ruling in general, is not really their affair. The result is that, unless there is strong conflict between chief and people, the people are likely to acquiesce in the headman who is chosen for them. Again, the Central Government, despite its statements, rarely takes an active interest in these matters. When the people are allowed to choose a headman they seem commonly to elect a person eligible for the office in traditional terms. Thus the headman of Mwanzimba was elected by his fellow villagers, but their main reason for choosing him was the fact that he was the first person to clear land in the village. In a recent case in Ngaya chiefdom the subjects of a village headman complained when he was deposed by the chief, who put another headman in his stead. They were given permission by the District Commissioner to choose their own headman and they voted for the reinstatement of the old one. This man was in office because he was the son of the previous chief of Ngaya, who had been deposed in 1947 (Fig. 22). Wimo 1 Mabula L \ (chief of Ngaya)

Nsomola / \ (former chief, T n o w dePosed) Petelo ZA (the reinstated headman)

J^

Dead

^

Alive

Fig. 22. The relationship between the chief of Ngaya and his reinstated headman Petelo.

It is only in Tabora District that I have seen something approaching the election of a village headman from the total body of the villagers. Even then the term 'election' may be misleading. The present headman of Kagela village in Uyui chiefdom was appointed in 1959. His predecessor was the son of one of the first clearers of land in the village which has been settled over the last forty years. The present headman has had only ten years of residence in the chiefdom, and less than that in Kagela, nor does he claim kinship with the previous headman. He had, however, previously been the village headman in a neighbouring village. The exact method of his election is not clear. Some form of consensus was reached between the headman of the village cluster, the 6-2

84

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

homestead heads of the village and the incumbent himself, but no formal election with a number of candidates and a counting of hands or votes took place. This last sort of headman chosen out of the total body of homestead heads living in the village forms an additional category to those described above. It is difficult to say how commonly they are to be found over the whole of Unyamwezi, but it seems probable that the type is mainly confined to villages like Kagela which are fairly close to Tabora and are of recent origin. Certainly, such office-holders were not encountered elsewhere in the course of my research. The system for deposing headmen follows in part the pattern described for the deposing of a chief. Any headman may be deposed if he is found guilty of a criminal offence or if he fails to carry out the duties of his office. Chiefs, however, sometimes try to depose headmen for more personal reasons. This may be because they have a quarrel with the headman or because they wish to put a son or personal follower in his place. In the Ngaya case just quoted the chief had quarrelled with the headman. An example of the second sort of situation was the deposition of the predecessor of the present headman of Busangi village cluster. This man was apparently removed from office by the chief of Busangi simply because the latter wished to appoint the present headman in his place. The replacement of a headman by a personal follower of a chief is difficult when the headmanship is vested in a kinship group. The chief of Busangi was only able to achieve this in Ntobo village cluster because the headman he replaced, a son of Msekela, had engaged too openly in opposition to his rule. In normal circumstances the Central Government would be likely to uphold the kin group's rights if a dispute over them arose. In fairness to them, however, it should be pointed out that chiefs themselves often respect these rights. Cases exist, for instance, where a village known to belong to a particular kinship group becomes deserted and is later resettled. In such cases chiefs usually make a genuine effort to contact living members of the kinship group concerned and bring them back to rule the village.1 In the case of office-holding kinship groups whose ancestors were clearers of the bush there is a special reason why chiefs acknowledge their right to rule. Traditionally, these men made a payment of a bull to the chief in power to validate their right to hold the headmanship, and the obligations arising from these payments in the past are still 1

This happened in the case of Igalula village discussed in chapter 7.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

85

recognized. This recognition of the obligations stemming from such payments, which are apparently no longer made these days, provides an interesting example of the continuity of corporations and of links between them. Another and more general reason for the recognition of the rights of kinship groups to territorial office is the relationship felt to exist between the ancestors of the groups and the well-being of the areas ruled by them. It must be realized, however, that historical and recent cases can be found in which these difficulties have been overcome. Even when the headmanship is not held by a separate kinship group the chief may be unable to depose the headman. The failure, described above, of the chief of Ngaya to depose his brother's son is a case in point. The following two cases further illustrate the difficulties encounted by chiefs in this sort of situation. The first case concerns the present-day chiefdom of Karunde in Tabora District. This chiefdom first obtained its independent status under the German administration. Before this it was part of the neighbouring Uyui chiefdom. The grandfather of the present chief of Karunde had been a friend and helper of the chief of Uyui and had been given the area to rule in recognition of his services. Later the two men quarrelled and the chief of Uyui demanded back the territory he had given. The Karunde head told the chief that he should first return the property which he had given him to help him in his wars. The chief, in anger, took the matter before the Germans in Tabora, who said that they knew the ruler of Karunde as an independent chief, for he had been given a 'book' when the Germans first established their administration.1 The chiefdom of Karunde has remained a separate unit ever since. The second case is of a headmanship in Kahama chiefdom. The late chief Ndega was very interested in one of the snake societies and obtained instruction in its medicines from a Sumbwa called Kihongwe. This man became the friend of Ndega, who eventually gave him a headmanship. Before Kihongwe died, he passed on the headmanship to his son Hermani. In this way he avoided disputes about the succession. Hermani had to give up the work owing to other commitments and handed over the office to his younger brother. The younger brother has recently been dismissed for collusion with some cattle thieves and the present chief has tried to give the office to one of his own relatives. Hermani, however, claims still to be headman and argues that he only appointed his younger brother as his deputy. The chief denies this and also claims 1

Cf. chapter 2.

86

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

the right to dismiss Hermani in any case. The dispute, which became quite bitter, was unsettled when I left the field. It is clear from the material presented that the transmission of a headmanship from one close kinsman to another is not an automatic process. Commonly there seems to be a struggle in which chiefs are keen both to prevent the establishment of new headmanship-holding kin groups and also to check the power of those already in existence. When succession between kinsfolk does occur it normally follows patrilineal lines. Both fraternal and filial succession are found and there appears to be no rigid rule determining the precedence of one over the other. Despite the fact that patrilineal succession is the norm, however, several cases are found of a headmanship passing to a sister's son. An interesting elaboration of the normal system is provided by the ruling kin group of the Mpangala village cluster in Busangi chiefdom. As seen earlier, this group not only controls the salaried headmanship of the cluster but also provides headmen for three villages within it. The salaried headmanship itself passes patrilineally within the group, while the village headmanships are held by sundry kinsmen of the former village cluster headman, Ntabo. In conclusion of this section on headmen, I shall say a few words about their educational and occupational backgrounds. With the exception of those salaried headmen who are the sons of chiefs, headmen of both grades appear to be very similar in these respects to the subjects whom they rule. Chiefs tend to educate their children more than do commoners. The information in Table 10 refers to seventeen of the unsalaried headmen of Busangi chiefdom and appears to be typical for headmen of both grades, excluding the sons of chiefs.1 The low standard of education of these men is undoubtedly connected with their high average age.2 Of the salaried occupations followed, one was that of a soldier in the second world war, the second that of court messenger, and the third that of an agricultural instructor for the Native Treasury. The agricultural instructor was considering giving up his headmanship because it was so poorly paid, and there is evidence that men who already hold reasonably salaried positions refuse to take up headmanships for this reason. It may be mentioned 1

2

Other material, which was less systematically collected, supports this view. Comparison with the Sukuma is not possible since Liebenow (i960) presents no data on village headmen and insufficient information on his Class III chiefs. Educational standards in Unyamwezi made relatively little advance for the population as a whole until after the Second World War. On the history of education in Tanganyika cf. Handbook of Tanganyika (1958, pp. 92, 98, 116, 131, 140).

The Structure of the Chiefdom

87

here that the average wage of a salaried headman in Kahama District was about 25 shillings per month in the late nineteen-fifties, and the average remuneration of unsalaried headmen was in the neighbourhood of 20-25 shillings per year at that time. This was much lower than the wages of chiefs, which are discussed in chapter 7, and considerably lower than most other paid employment. Table 10. Information on the age, education and previous occupations of seventeen village headmen in Busangi chiefdom

Age

Number

No education

40-45 46-50 51-55 56-60 61-65 66-70 71-75

2

2

3 5 3

3 3 3

2

1-4 years schooling

With previous salaried occupation

— —

1

2

—

1

—

1

1

1

—

1

1

—

—

1

1

—

—

Sub-chiefs and chiefs deputies

I have delayed the discussion of the holders of these offices because they are not a universal feature of Nyamwezi chiefdom structure. The distinction between them is, moreover, a little confused. Structurally, a sub-chiefdom exists when a chiefdom contains a subdivision which possesses its own formal court for settling cases. It has already been pointed out that there are two main ways in which this can arise. The first is through the incorporation of a formerly independent unit into a chiefdom. The second is through the establishment of additional courts within a large chiefdom for the sake of administrative convenience and efficiency.1 A part of the above-mentioned confusion arises from the fact that not all formerly independent units retain their separate court after their incorporation in another chiefdom, though the head of such a unit may still be given the title munangoma, which is normally translated into English as sub-chief. When a munangoma has no separate court it is generally recognized that his position is the same as that of 1

It will be recalled from chapter 2 that greater headmen had their own courts in the traditional system. People find it very inconvenient to have to travel more than about fifteen miles to a Native Authority court. This is, of course, a problem of what Richards (1961, p. 143) has aptly called a 'pedestrian state'.

88

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

headman.1 Such banangoma, however, jealously guard their title in the hope of future independent status. We have, then, a title which is commonly translated as 'sub-chief but which is not necessarily connected with a territorial division possessing its own court. Now the rulers of sub-chiefdoms which are the result of the subdivision of a chiefdom for administrative convenience are personally appointed by the chief and their position need not be inherited by their kinsmen. Because of this they are commonly called by the same title as those chief's deputies who stand in for the chief in his own court. The title used is the Swahili word wakili, which means deputy. Herein lies a second point of confusion. Basically what we have is a situation where structurally similar positions have separate titles and structurally different positions have the same title, because the offices in question have been classified according to the methods of recruitment to them rather than in terms of their structural relationship to other offices. What sort of men hold these positions ? Considering first the rulers of the sub-chiefdoms, we find that they belong to three main categories. First, there are the banangoma, who rule the areas because their ancestors did so before them. Secondly, there are those who are close kinsmen of the chief, such as his sons or brothers. Thus four out of eleven subchiefs in the chiefdom of Unyanyembe are brothers of the chief. Thirdly, there are men appointed by the chief because they are his trusted personal associates. Some of these might be more distant kinsfolk of his, others not. We see, then, that the heads of these sub-chiefdoms fall into categories comparable to those described for salaried headmen. In terms of educational achievement, however, they appear to be more similar to chiefs. This is clearly connected with their being recognized court-holders, as is the fact that their appointment and dismissal are subject to closer surveillance by Central Government than are those of salaried headmen. The men whom I have called chief's deputies are in many ways quite different from the sub-chiefs. First, they may be moved around from one chiefdom to another. Secondly, and implied in the first statement, they do not need to have close personal ties with the chiefdom in which they work. Thus the chief's deputy for Ngaya and Busangi chiefdoms was a Swahili from Kahama Town, and the one for Uyui used to go home to Tabora every evening. Both men spoke fluent Kinyamwezi. 1

As mentioned in chapter 3, the term munangoma (plural banangoma) is originally a Sukuma title. Cory (1954, pp. 39-48) translates it as ' chiefdom elder'. In a Government letter of the 1920s the title is described as a 'sop' to placate these dispossessed rulers.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

89

The main qualification for office as chief's deputy is experience in administrative work. The one in Uyui had been a tax clerk for twentyfour years before his appointment. Although appointment of chief's deputies is handled at a District rather than a chiefdom level, the chiefs have a considerable say in the appointment. Commonly a chief will name the man he wants to have as deputy and the appointment will be formally approved by the District Administration. Court elders and other officers of the courts

Every chiefdom and sub-chiefdom court has three elders who assist the head of the court in settling cases. These men are appointed by the head of the court. The three court elders in Busangi chiefdom court are (i) the leader of the Tusi in Busangi, (ii) an unsalaried headman, and (iii) a commoner. This is not an atypical arrangement. The leader of the Tusi in a chiefdom used to be the holder of an official post with the title of ntwale wa Batusi. His recognition today by Central Government is rare, however, and a number of chiefs have dealt with this by making such men court elders. It is also not uncommon to find a headman or a commoner in this position. The chief of Busangi has achieved a nice balance by his choice. What is wanted for the work are homestead heads who are intelligent and well versed in customary law. Royal or commoner background is from this point of view irrelevant. Since the settlement of cases commonly involves arriving at a compromise between conflicting points of view it seems reasonable to have as many types of interest as possible represented by the court elders. I have never seen a court where the elders are all headmen nor one where they are all commoners but I have met examples where the leader of the Tusi is not represented. Some chiefdoms have a small pool of some four or five elders from which they can draw, but the commonest situation is for the same three to be used wherever possible. The elders receive a small payment for their work. This is calculated in accordance with the number of attendances they make in court. Court messengers are also chosen by the head of the court in which they work. They are, in my experience, always commoners who live within the territory served by the court. Their work never overlaps with the holding of another office. In contrast to the court elders and messengers, court clerks are commonly transferred from one chiefdom to another. They are sometimes

90

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

highly educated in comparison with the chiefs and this occasionally leads to conflict. Because of the tendency of chiefs to educate their children and because of Central Government's preference that successors to chiefly office should have experience of Native Administration, it was common in the past to find the sons of chiefs working as court clerks. Today, with more widespread education and with increased opportunities for an educated man, this seems to be a rarer phenomenon than it was. It is significant, in this respect, that court clerks are often comparatively young men. Ritual officers

As already mentioned, the ritual officers of a chiefdom are the ngabe, the kitunga, and the banyikulu or bagohogoho.

The office of ngabe is normally vested in a kinship group and succession follows patrilineal lines. Traditionally these groups were not of royal descent but there are perhaps exceptions to this rule today.1 The office of kitunga is also vested in a kinship group but it is only held at the time of the installation of a chief. The work of the kitunga is to dress the chief in his regalia prior to his installation. Traditionally he was banished from the chiefdom after this and could not again communicate directly with the chief but had to use an intermediary. He was, however, entitled to help from the chief whenever he might need it.2 Such banishment does not take place today. As in the traditional system, the bagohogoho are of slave stock. There is much evidence that the importance of these ritual offices is decreasing and in some cases there are no incumbents. Thus there is no ngabe in the chiefdoms of Ngaya and Kahama in Kahama District. In Busangi chiefdom the number of bagohogoho has fallen to two and no successors to these have been trained. They have, however, recruited another man to help them in their work. He is a diviner, not of slave descent, who has often been employed in royal divinations and knows much about royal rituals. The above discussion brings my account of the office-holders in a chiefdom to a close. I wish now to turn to a related topic, that of the distinction which exists in Nyamwezi society between 'nobles' or 'royals' on the one hand and 'commoners' on the other. 1 21

Cf. the case of the ngabe in Uyui noted earlier in the chapter. There is further discussion of these customs in chapter 6.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

91

Nobles and commoners

In his recent study of South African political systems, Schapera has remarked: 'In most Bantu tribes there are usually at least two welldefined social classes, often distinguished by name, which we may term "nobles" and "commoners" respectively. The former include all people held to be of the same origin by descent as the chief. The remainder are "commoners"... n Comparable distinctions are a feature of centralized political organization among many other African peoples, including the Nyamwezi.2 In Unyamwezi, commoners are called bazengi, which means builders. The implication of the term is that they are outsiders who merely build their homes in a chiefdom, and it is significant that one of the Swahili words used for them is wageni, which means foreigners or guests. Nobles, in the sense of members of the ruling family of a chiefdom, are called bisilibe, a term of which the derivation is obscure. The definition of these words in terms of descent alone, however, is not fully justified by the facts, since they are also used simply to express the distinction between the rulers of a chiefdom and their subjects.3 In this sense, the word bisilibe refers to the chief and to his subordinate territorial office-holders, and it has been shown that not all of these office-holders are related to the chief. The situation, then, is one in which some people are called nobles in virtue of their kinship with the chief, and others through their holding office under him. I shall return shortly to this double usage. First, however, I want to examine the structure of the group of interrelated nobles who form the ruling family of a chiefdom. The ruling family of a modern Nyamwezi chiefdom basically consists of a number of related branches or segments, each of which is vested with one or more territorial offices in the chiefdom. Occasionally a segment may be found which formerly held territorial office but no longer does so. The most important segment is that vested with the chiefship itself. It may usefully be thought of as a central point around which other segments are articulated, since their claims to membership of the ruling family tend to be expressed in terms of their relationship to the present chief or one of his predecessors. 1 2 3

Schapera (1956, p. 56). The reference is, of course, to the South African Bantu. Cf. Richards (1961, passim). One young informant even went so far as to suggest that the category bisilibe included the District Commissioner.

92

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

A ruling family, with its constituent segments, does not conform to any simple pattern of descent or kin group structure. In some contexts it may usefully be considered as a segmented descent group, while in others it may perhaps be better described as an interrelated series of cognatic, ego-oriented groupings. Moreover, both of these models may be misleading if they are used without due qualification. Thus, when considering a ruling family as a segmented descent group, it is important to realize that more than one principle of unilineal descent may be involved in its structure. It is also necessary to understand that its component segments are not organized in a system of complementary opposition and alliance vis-a-vis each other. Again, when looking at a ruling family as a series of cognatic kin groups, it should be noted that in contrast to the kindreds of a fully fledged cognatic system, or indeed in contrast to the ego-oriented groupings of the commoners, these groups of nobles are in many ways discrete, non-overlapping units. Each segment of a ruling family tends to have a patrilineal core, but the links between segments may be matrilineal in some cases. This derives in part from the traditional custom, mentioned earlier, whereby the chiefship in some chiefdoms was transmitted matrilineally and headmanships were held by patrilineal descendants of the chiefs. Another factor is the change from matrilineal to patrilineal succession to the chiefship which has taken place in such chiefdoms. Fig. 23 illustrates this. The diagram shows the links traced between three segments of the ruling family of Busangi chiefdom. The first holds the salaried headmanship of Mpangala village cluster, the second holds the village headmanship of Kisuke in Busangi village cluster, and the third holds the chiefship itself. The segment in which the chiefship is vested is linked matrilineally, through the two women Malwa and Nungili, to the two segments holding headmanships. These last are, in this particular case, linked patrilineally to each other since they trace descent from a single chief, Mwendabanhu II. Two segments in which headmanships are vested can, however, be linked matrilineally to each other if they trace descent from different chiefs, although such links will not, of course, be found in those chiefdoms where succession to the chiefship has always been patrilineal. As might be assumed from Fig. 23, it is through its patrilineal core that a segment is genealogically connected with other segments of the same royal family, so that links between segments are primarily links between such cores. In addition, certain privileges, such as the right to hold the most important office vested in a segment, are normally reserved for members of this patrilineal group.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

93

Around a segment's patrilineal core are centred various cognatic kinsfolk who are also members of the segment. The nobles of Butumwa village in the Mpangala village cluster of Busangi chiefdom are examples of such persons. This village, like two others in the village cluster, belongs directly to the segment of the ruling family which \/) Bumholya

I

0 Malv

Mwendabanhu II (chief of Nsalala)

, Golola

i Nzuki

k

Nsabi I (chief of Nsalala)

L Dubali

Mashimba

A Kitebi

k Mapuli

i Ntabo Madenda L Paulo

) Nungili

Mayema

1

Mashimba,

Headmen of Mpangala village cluster

i Kapela

L Mapuli

Sayi i

Nalimi

Headmen of Kisuke village in Busangi village cluster

Nzilwa (chief of Busangi)

i Nsabi

Mbashani (present chief of Busangi) The chiefly segment

Fig. 23. The links between three segments of the ruling family of Busangi chiefdom (cf. Fig. 17).

holds the salaried headmanship of the cluster.1 Fig. 24 is useful here. It may be mentioned that the diagram only shows the nobles who are felt to be specifically connected with Butumwa. Apart from these there are three other nobles living in the village, and distant kinship is recognized with these. Two of them belong to the ruling family of Muhida in the same village cluster, and the third is the grandson of a former chief of the related chiefdom of Nsalala Ndogo in Geita District. 1

Cf. the previous section on headmanship for information on the villages in this cluster.

94

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

All the living males in the diagram are thought of as a single group. Shija is a borderline case and is held to be ineligible to hold the village headmanship. He differs from Chanela, Gabulyeli and Petelo, and Mayunga in that his father paid bridewealth for his mother and so he belongs to his father's people. His tie through his mother, coupled with his residence in the village, is enough, however, to guarantee his inclusion if one asks who the nobles of Butumwa are.1 The crucial link between Chanela, Gabulyeli and Petelo, and Mayunga is their common kinship with the late salaried headman Ntabo and his patrilineage. Both

Maziku

Matulangi

Makonda

J7

6

> Shita

/\ Shija

'Ana

Sesa Mashili

Mashimba

9

1

Kwikema ^ ^ ]Ntabo

A

Chanela Classificatory sibling

~fly-~ Classificatory cross-cousin

Kisozo

Gabulyeli

A

A

9

O

Alive

Fig. 24. The nobles of Butumwa village, 1959.

Ntabo and his grandfather Nzuki were each the nucleus of a sundry body of more or less distant kinsfolk. Only in the case of Chanela is the exact nature of the link with Ntabo known. People related to Ntabo through links similar to those of Gabulyeli and Mayunga are found in Mpangala village also. It appears that people were attracted to Ntabo and Nzuki partly because they were headmen and partly because they were men who treated people well. Makonda traces his royal descent by a quite independent route. His father was the head of what is now a part of Butumwa village, and Makonda's absorption into the group of Butumwa nobles has followed upon the inclusion of his father's territory in the village. All except Shija were born in Mpangala 1

Shija's mother Sesa lives in Mpangala village in the house of one of Ntabo's sons while the latter is away.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

95

village cluster. Chanela is the present village headman. He gave up the work for a time, and Makonda and Petelo each held the office during this period. Mayunga acted for a time as Ntabo's assistant in Mpangala village before the appointment ofan unsalaried headman there. The group of cognates clustered in this way around a headman may be called an office-oriented kindred. Such groups also form around a chief. It is, of course, this feature of being centred around the incumbent of a particular territorial office that gives such groups their separate, non-overlapping character. The overlapping of kindreds in a 'classical' cognatic kinship system, such as that of the Kalingas of the Philippines, depends upon the fact that everybody in the system is the focal point of his own bilateral, ego-oriented group. 1 Such a situation is approached, albeit imperfectly, in the kinship organization of commoners in Unyamwezi. When, however, the number of potential 'egos' is limited, in this case to the holders of particular territorial offices, and when a person is by residence and other means attached to only one of these, then the result will be, as here, a number of discrete, continuing groups of cognates. Although direct evidence is lacking, it appears probable that some of the people who claim to be distant kinsfolk of a headman are, in fact, descendants simply of the followers or even of the slaves of one of his predecessors in office. Certainly, in the case of the chief himself, actual blood relatives form only part of those who, either as individuals attached directly to him or as members of a segment vested with a headmanship, claim kinship with him. Claims to kinship with a chief can, in fact, arise in several different ways. First, a chief, in the past, had many slaves, basese (sing, nsese), whom he would commonly marry off among themselves. Their children would be his property, and their descendants often claim membership of the ruling family of the chiefdom. People could become slaves in a variety of ways. Sometimes they were captured in war. In other cases they became slaves voluntarily. If a man committed an offence in another chiefdom, or if he felt for other reasons that he was unable to support himself, he could place himself under the protection of a chief. In order to demonstrate his wish to do this he would hang onto the wooden supports of the royal drums or else split open the drums themselves with a knife. He would then become a slave of the chief, who would protect and support him.2 This sort of person and his descendants 1 2

Cf. Barton (1949) and also Freeman (1961). For the connexion between such slavery and ' clientship' see chapter 9.

g6

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

apparently formed the body of court followers described earlier as banyikulu or bagohogoho. The strength of claims to royal kinship made by such people can be demonstrated by the case of Busongo chiefdom already mentioned, where such a man became chief. When the blood members of the royal line complained that the man appointed to the chiefship was of slave stock, he is said to have argued that he only knew the royal family as his kinsfolk and if they were not his kin they should point out where his kin were. They were, of course, unable to do this. Again, we have seen that there are people who were given headmanships for services they rendered to a chief. The descendants of such people commonly claim membership of the ruling family of a chiefdom. The term banachalo or bagulansi was used to separate these headmen from those who were the actual kinsfolk of a chief. Banachalo literally means 'inhabitants of the chiefdom' and bagulansi means 'the buyers of the land'. It appears that such distinctions tend to fall into abeyance in the course of time. In addition it is said that a chief was sometimes told by his diviners that he would bring good fortune on his country if he searched for a recent settler and made him into a mwanangwa. The chief would find a person who was clearing bush and would fulfil the diviners' instructions by giving the bush-clearer a drum as a sign of office. The descendants of this man would claim royal kinship. It may also happen that people whose ancestors settled in a chiefdom many generations ago claim kinship with the royal family of the chiefdom. We have seen, in our discussion of headmen, that such people may qualify their claims by talking about 'kinship of the land'.1 Sometimes such people will remember the chiefdom of their origin and will claim to be blood relatives of the chiefs there. In fact their kinship with those chiefs may well be of any of the four types so far cited. Finally there are the real kinsfolk of a chief. Just as non-related persons may claim kinship with a chief, so some of these genuine kinsfolk may claim closer kinship with him than is actually the case. Thus it was noted earlier that one of the salaried headmen of Uyui chiefdom, who was a distant kinsman of the chief, Kitambi, called himself 'son of Kitambi'. Similarly, chiefs occasionally stress the distance between their own and other segments of the ruling family. Thus the chief of Busangi often liked to point out the distance between his own chiefly line and 1

People of the previous three types may sometimes qualify their claims in this way also.

The Structure of the Chiefdom

97

the various segments of the ruling family which held headmanships. On the other hand, a chief will sometimes claim a very close relationship with a neighbouring chief who is, in fact, quite distantly related to him. It is of interest, in this context, that it was from a chief that I obtained most detailed information on the different ways in which claims to royal 'kinship' could arise. Such claims and attitudes appear to be fully consonant with the internal differentiation which exists within a chiefdom and within a ruling family itself. Nobles in general are a privileged group in the area they rule, and within the group of nobles some positions are more privileged than others. The position of chief is quite the most important. It is the office vested with the greatest power and prestige, and it serves as a focal point for the whole group. Kinship with the chief, and if possible close kinship, is a charter for high status in a chiefdom, and it is not surprising that people should lay claim to it. The chief, for his part, is anxious to make clear the distinctive and superior status of himself and his close agnates, as the only group who are entitled to thechiefship. Conversely, a chief's statements of close kinship with a neighbouring ruler imply similarity of status and, at times, ambition to incorporate the other chiefdom under his own rule. To sum up, the ruling family of a chiefdom may be described, with certain qualifications, as a segmented kinship group, in which the segments normally hold territorial office. The segments in which headmanships are vested claim kinship with the chiefly line, but sometimes actual kinship ties are absent. A segment has a patrilineal core, and various cognates can be found centred around this. These cognates may have attached themselves to a particular office-holder, or they may be the descendants of people who have done this in the past. The group of 'kinsmen' who are clustered round the chief himself includes such persons as the banyikulu, who are really of slave stock. Distant kinsfolk of the chief will sometimes claim closer kinship with him than in fact is the case. We are now in a position to return to the double meaning of the two terms bisilibe and bazengi which was noted earlier in this section. It was mentioned that the term bisilibe was used to refer not only to the kinsfolk of the chief but also to his subordinate headmen, even though some of these make no claim to kinship with him. This twofold use of the word bisilibe is connected with the Nyamwezi view of the hierarchy of territorial offices. The simplest picture which they give of this hierarchy is, in fact, one in which the chief and all his headmen are

98

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

related to each other. They elaborate this by saying that all the salaried headmen are related to the chief and all the unsalaried headmen of a village cluster are related to the salaried headman of that cluster. Their picture thus becomes one of a kinship group which embraces the whole chiefdom, and which is segmented in the same pattern as the territorial divisions of the chiefdom. The shortcomings of such a model are by now clear. Not all headmen are related to the chief, and the pattern of segmentation of the ruling family by no means fully corresponds with the territorial hierarchy. Two main points, however, may be made in the defence of such a model. First, there is perhaps more truth in it than is immediately apparent. An examination of the structure of the ruling family of a chiefdom has revealed that the territorial offices are in fact very important nodal points in that structure. Moreover, we have seen that changes in the territorial arrangements of a chiefdom may affect the structure of its ruling family. Thus, in the case of Makonda, who was reckoned as one of the Butumwa nobles, it was pointed out that his incorporation into that group had taken place as a direct result of the incorporation of his father's territory into Butumwa village. Again, it has been seen that non-related office-holders commonly like to claim kinship with their chief. The chief himself, it may be added, although keen to emphasize his distance from such people, nonetheless requires their co-operation if he is to rule successfully. As such, it is useful for him to be able to express their obligations to him in a kinship idiom. Secondly, it must be stated that the people themselves are aware of the existence of inaccuracies in their picture, and to some extent it may be claimed that they ignore them for the sake of simplicity. In the above account it has been seen that the real situation contains a number of complexities. Even when defined with reference to kinship ties alone, the distinction between 'nobles' and 'commoners' is not a perfectly straightforward one. Within the categories, moreover, there exist distinctions, some of which are as important as the categories themselves. Clearly, any concise picture of the situation must involve inaccuracy.

THE BUSINESS OF GOVERNMENT In the last chapter an account was given of the different offices and their incumbents in a chiefdom. These offices may be considered as a framework through the medium of which various functions are performed. These functions, which are the subject of the present chapter, may be classified under the following headings: (i) Collection of revenue. (ii) The maintenance of law and order. (iii) Regulative functions. (iv) Co-ordinative functions. (v) Distributive functions. (vi) Ritual functions. I shall consider each of these in turn. COLLECTION OF REVENUE

It has always been a part of the chiefdom system in Unyamwezi for the chief and his headmen to collect revenue from their subjects. Traditionally this was in the form of tribute which was paid in kind, but in modern times it takes the form of various monetary taxes. In the past payment was made directly to the rulers but today the taxes are organized on the District and national level although they are still collected by the chief and headmen and are partly redistributed to them in the form of salaries and other grants. Various sorts of taxes are paid. First, there are taxes which are paid annually. The most general of these are the Personal Tax which goes to Central Government and the Native Authority Tax which goes to the District Treasury. These are taxes upon individuals based upon their national and chiefdom citizenship. Tax is also collected annually on cattle, though in Kahama and Nzega Districts this is done indirectly by means of a graded Native Authority Tax in which the grading is based in part upon the number of cattle held by the taxpayer.1 Personal Tax is in theory graded according to 1

This system was introduced into Kahama District towards the end of my fieldwork. It replaced a system whereby cattle-owners, in addition to their other taxes, paid a special cattle tax of 3 shillings per head of cattle owned. Some of the events leading to this change are discussed in chapter 7. [ 99 ] 7-2

ioo

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

income but, except in the case of people earning largish salaries, the minimum rate is usually paid since it is difficult to check upon other sources of income. Most of the people who pay these taxes are men, and all men over eighteen years of age are liable to pay. The aged and infirm, however, may be excused. Women only pay when they are reckoned as the head of their own homestead. My experience is that about one in eighty-five taxpayers is a woman. Personal Tax can only be paid once per year by any one individual, but this is not the case with the Native Authority Tax, since a man with two homesteads in separate village clusters has to pay tax in respect of each of them. Other annual taxes are collected from the owners of bicycles and guns. In addition to these annual levies, there are occasional taxes paid in the form of licence fees whenever an individual wishes to do something which is subject to the payment of such fees. Examples are the cutting down of certain trees, the brewing of beer for sale and the slaughtering of cattle for sale as meat. The chief's court also charges fees for hearing civil cases. Such licence fees and court fees go to the District Treasury, as do the fines exacted in the chiefdom courts. The chiefs, it may be added, consider the courts an important source of public revenue. In the collection of the main annual taxes the chief, headmen, and court clerk receive the help of tax clerks from District headquarters. THE MAINTENANCE OF LAW AND ORDER

The maintenance of law and order has always been one of the most important functions of the state in Unyamwezi. Almost all the officeholders who were noted in the previous chapter take part in the hearing and settling of court cases. A man who has a dispute which he wishes to be settled by the court usually takes it before his unsalaried headman, who passes it on to the salaried headman if he himself is unable to resolve it. The salaried headman holds an informal hearing, and if he feels there is a real case that he himself cannot settle, the matter moves on to the chief's court.1 Here it is heard by the chief, the three court elders, and a body of salaried and unsalaried headmen. The chief's deputy may also be present. Sometimes he appears on the chief's behalf, sometimes alongside him. The case is recorded by the court clerk, and order is maintained in the court by the messenger on duty.* 1 2

In a sub-chiefdom it will, of course, move to the sub-chief's court, in which the procedure is similar to that described for the chief's court. Other ways of settling disputes are described in my account of neighbourhood courts in chapter 8.

The Business of Government

101

The chief's court is held in a special building commonly described by the Swahili word baraza. The Nyamwezi word used to describe the court is ibanza, a term which, like baraza, is also applied to various other kinds of assembly and meeting-place. The chief and his court elders sit on chairs on a raised dais at one end of the court, and the accuser, the accused and witnesses sit on a bench facing the dais. Seated on the dais itself are the various headmen who help in the hearing of a case. Members of the public may attend the hearings. Procedure in the chief's court follows a set pattern. The person who is bringing a case first states the nature of his charges. Then witnesses are named by him and these give their evidence. In this part of the hearing the accused may be asked his opinion of specific points made by the accuser and his witnesses. The accused then gives his own account of the events on which the case is based and calls on witnesses to support him. During the hearing the chief and his assistants cross-examine the accuser, the accused and all the witnesses. When the evidence has been clarified, a decision is reached, and is announced by the chief or by his deputy if the chief is absent. This decision is then open to appeal. The powers of a chiefdom court are limited by Central Government. Cases which involve homicide, witchcraft, or Christian marriages may not be dealt with by them, nor do Indians or Europeans fall within their jurisdiction. Chiefdom courts may fine or jail offenders. Each court has an official warrant, issued by the Government and signed by the Provincial Commissioner, which states the maximum penalties it may exact. If the court feels that a severer penalty than these is called for, it transfers the case in question to a higher court. The courts are used a great deal. In the Busangi chiefdom of Kahama District, with a population of 4,711 men, women and children, some 103 civil and criminal cases were heard in 1958 alone. In the Ibili chiefdom of Tabora District, with a total population of 2,995, some Table 11. Civil and criminal cases in Kahama District Year

Number of cases

Population*

1947 1948 1957 1958

2,293 2,059 2,303 2,086

— 94,587 in,736 —

* Based on official censuses.

102

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

87 cases were dealt with in the same period. These figures do not appear to be exceptional and may be compared with the figures in Table 11 for Kahama District as a whole. Litigation is at its peak in the dry season, when the courts are often busy for four or more days per week. Business slackens in the rainy season, because people are occupied with the production of food. Because of the problems involved in keeping witnesses away from their agricultural work, plus the difficulties which are caused by the breaking up of homesteads during the rainy season, courts generally refuse to hear divorce cases during that period. REGULATIVE FUNCTIONS

Under this heading I refer to the powers by which a chief and his headmen are able to regulate certain of the activities of their subjects. These powers allow them to prevent their subjects from doing something which is, under normal circumstances, legal.1 Thus, in years when food is scarce owing to bad rains, it is common for chiefs whose chiefdoms have been badly hit by drought to forbid the sale of maize and other crops outside the chiefdom. In years of plenty no such rule exists. Similarly, if there has been much violence in a chiefdom, a chief or salaried headman may forbid the consumption of beer after dark in the drinking-places of his territory. Such a rule is normally relaxed after a time. In addition to such temporary decrees, there is a second way in which regulation may take place. As will be seen, a chief, if he follows traditional custom, has a series of ceremonies to perform in the course of the agricultural year. Among these are the first-fruit ceremonies, and, until these are performed, subjects are not allowed to harvest their maize. There is also a ceremony which allows people to start brewing millet beer, and this consists of a brewing of beer in the chief's household. I am told that in the past, if millet was short, the chief would delay his ceremonial brew as long as possible so as to prevent his subjects using up their food supplies in the production of beer. CO-ORDINATIVE FUNCTIONS

The chief and his headmen have the right to call upon their subjects for the performance of various public works. These include road maintenance, bush-clearing, communal hunts and the cutting and collec1

It will be recalled from chapter 3 that actual legislation, though participated in bychiefs, is carried out at District and higher levels.

The Business of Government

103

tion of grass for thatching public buildings. Sometimes, as in the case of bush-clearing to keep out tsetse fly, the labour is paid for. The main benefit of some tasks is, however, obtained by those performing them and for these no payment is given. The communal hunts of animal pests are an example of this. Both chiefs and salaried headmen organize such hunts. Chiefs and headmen also have the right to make people carry a sick man to hospital, and I have come across cases where fines have been imposed on people who refused to do this. The number of tasks which subjects are willing to perform without receiving monetary payment is, however, rapidly decreasing, and much communal labour, which previously was unrewarded or for which a feast was given as a recompense, is paid for nowadays with daily wages. DISTRIBUTIVE FUNCTIONS

The title wa nyama is a common form of address used by subjects to a Nyamwezi chief. It means 'the person of the meat' and refers to the role of chiefs in the past as distributors of meat and other food through feasts and gifts. Chiefs in the past were able to amass large herds of cattle and received much grain in tribute. Furthermore, large fields were cultivated for them by their subjects. In return for these privileges a chief was expected to be generous and hospitable and to assist his poorer subjects when they needed food.1 Today, with the replacement of tribute and tribute-labour by an impersonal tax system, it is very difficult for a chief to treat his subjects generously, and this part of the distributive functions of a chief has largely lapsed.* Chiefs and headmen are, however, still in charge of distributing land among their subjects, though they do not obtain reputations for generosity through this. I shall reserve a discussion of land tenure to a later chapter.3 Here it may be briefly pointed out that all land is said to belong to the chief, that it is distributed on his behalf by his headmen, and that every adult citizen has a right to hold land in a chiefdom completely free of charge except, of course, for the taxes he must pay and duties of citizenship which he takes upon himself through residence in a chiefdom.4 Cultivators may not sell their holdings, nor may their heirs inherit them without permission from the headman. This is 1 2 3 4

Cf. chapter 2. The significance of this change is discussed in chapter 7. See chapter 7. This absence of payments to obtain land is in contrast to some other East African systems. Cf. Fallers (1956, p. 165).

104

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

normally given, but certain conditions, such as the necessity to give up other holdings in the village, may be imposed upon the heirs if there is local shortage of land. RITUAL FUNCTIONS

As was mentioned in chapter 2, the secularization of the chiefship did not result in the complete abandonment of the ritual functions of the office. In fact, although some ceremonies such as those connected with warfare have lapsed completely nowadays, the form of the various ceremonies which are still performed remains virtually unchanged today. Since detailed accounts of these ceremonies have been published by both Bosch and Cory, it will suffice here to give a general outline of them with some discussion of their contemporary importance.1 The main basis of a chief's ritual duties is his ex officio owning of the land upon which the livelihood of his subjects depends. By means of powers which he obtains upon his installation, combined with his ability to influence his ancestors through sacrifice, a chief was, and to some extent still is, held able to control those forces, such as rainfall, which determine agricultural prosperity. An annual series of rituals exists for this purpose. Apart from these regularly recurring ceremonies a chief and also his headmen have the duty of consulting diviners as the need arises, and of performing the ancestor sacrifices which they advise. For the ancestors of chiefs and headmen have a public relevance and are considered able to bring blessing or distress on whole communities. Some chiefs still conscientiously perform traditional rituals today and others carry them out to please their subjects, although they themselves do not believe in their efficacy.2 Still others hardly perform any ceremonies at all. Other facts confirm that the importance of royal rituals is waning. I have already pointed out that many of the ritual offices of chiefdoms are without incumbents. There is, moreover, evidence that chiefs who regularly perform their ritual duties are in certain cases far less popular than others who neglect them.3 On the other hand, it would be foolish to attach too little importance to the ritual aspects of royal office. Like their predecessors, most chiefs appear to belong to one or more secret societies, and especially the 1 2

3

Cf. Bosch (1930, pp. 128, 149-53, 263-4, 268-9) a n d Cory (1951, passim). Liebenow (i960, p. 242) points out that it is the more highly educated Sukuma chiefs who carry out the ceremonies simply to please their subjects. There is some evidence that this applies to Unyamwezi also. Cf. the comparison of the chiefs of Busangi and Ngaya in chapter 7.

The Business of Government

105

spirit-possession society of the 'Baswezi', and even today no chief is installed without undergoing the traditional ceremonies of installation. The influence of Christianity and Islam upon the performance of royal rituals is difficult for me to assess. My figures on the religious affiliation of chiefs, though incomplete, may be of interest here and are contained in Table 12. Unfortunately, I neglected to obtain corresponding figures on the observance of their ritual duties by chiefs. Table 12. Religion of Nyamwezi chiefs District

Pagan

Kahama Nzega Tabora Unyamwezi

7 o 10

Muslim 3

o 9 12

Christian Unknown Totals 3

3 o 5

2

2 2 4

0

12 8 11 31

It will be noted that the Christian chiefs are in a definite minority. Although Christianity is more militant against traditional rituals than is Islam, I do not think that this accounts for the comparatively small number of Christian chiefs in the area. The large majority of Muslim chiefs are in Tabora District where there has been long-standing contact with the Arabs, and it is this District which provides the overall preponderance of Muslim over Christian chiefs.1 Affiliation to either Christianity or Islam does not appear ultimately to prevent a Nyamwezi chief from carrying out his ritual duties, but it is clearly a force against his doing so. Liebenow has been able to show for Sukumaland that, whereas pagan chiefs all performed their ritual duties, only about half of the Christian and Muslim chiefs there did so.2 Similar results would probably be found in Unyamwezi. 1

2

Liebenow's figures for the religious affiliations of Sukuma chiefs show no such imbalance between Muslims and Christians. Nor do my own figures for Kahama and Nzega Districts. Cf. Liebenow (i960, p. 257). Liebenow (i960, p. 242).

6 MECHANISMS OF CONTINUITY In the last two chapters I have given an account of the hierarchical structure of the chiefdom and the functions it serves. The importance of the study of political processes as a complement to such accounts has recently been stressed by Richards.1 This refers to an examination of the way in which political institutions work through time and such an examination is the purpose of this and the following chapter. In this chapter I shall first consider, with special reference to the chiefship, the historical charters which validate the holding of royal office, and I shall give an account of the various objects of royal property which help to corroborate these charters. I shall then go on to discuss the system of succession to the chiefship. In the next chapter I shall examine the chiefdom structure as a working system of relationships.

For the Nyamwezi the history of a chiefdom is in fact the history of its ruling family and it is meaningful to talk of this history as being owned by the ruling family in question. Individual ownership of histories and the idea of authorized versions concomitant with it are not the general rule in the area. Rather the history of a chiefdom is known piecemeal to a ruling family and its close followers, particularly the ritual officers. Different versions may be found without difficulty.3 Commoners rarely claim to know anything about the history of the chiefdom they are living in; and when they do, their knowledge is confined to the history of the recent past. Chiefs and their followers also claim little knowledge of the history of chiefdoms which are unrelated to their own. In the case of related chiefdoms, there is, of course, some knowledge of the period before the chiefdoms became separate units, but detailed knowledge of the history of such other chiefdoms after separation usually has little time depth. A definite value is, moreover, placed upon the notion that the history of a ruling family is its own affair. 1 2 3

Richards (1960&, p. 175). Richards (1960&, pp. 175-8 and passim) gives a general discussion of the nature of historical charters and a full list of references. Richards (19606, p. 182) reports a similar situation for the Bemba. [106]

Mechanisms of Continuity

107

The transmission through time of such historical knowledge is achieved by three distinct methods. First, it is the duty of ritual officers to train their own successors and a part of this training is the teaching of royal history.1 Secondly, chiefs are expected to obtain some familiarity with the history of their predecessors through consultation with their ritual officers and knowledgeable kinsfolk. The third and most informal method is for junior members of a ruling family to listen attentively and often to the discourse of their elders, to sit much with them, as the Nyamwezi put it. The absence of a single mechanism for the transmission of such knowledge is, of course, related to the existence of divergent versions of the history of a single ruling family. Some idea of the degree of divergence which exists between such versions may be obtained from the following account of my attempt to record a history and genealogy of the ruling family of Ibili chiefdom in Tabora District.2 When I informed the chief of Ibili that I wished to obtain such information he told me that it would be necessary to assemble elders of the ruling family who possessed the requisite knowledge. On my first meeting with the chief and his elders the following list of chiefs was given to me. The main source of information was one Simba mwana Kidenda.3 This man was a distant kinsman of the chief and one of his court elders. List of Ibili chiefs obtained at the first meeting 1. Miteni, called Ndulansi or 'the tamer of the land'. 2. Simba, born Kashindye, younger brother of Miteni. (The name Kashindye is given to children who are born feet first.) 3. Mnhonga I, son of Simba's sister's daughter. 4. Degreki, called Masanja, sister's son of Mnhonga. 5. Kiyenzile, sister's son of Degreki. 6. Tuli, sister's son of Degreki and classificatory younger brother of Kiyenzile. 7. Kiluma, sister's son of Degreki and classificatory younger brother of Tuli. 8. Hengele, sister's son of Kiluma. 1 2

3

The replacement of ritual officers has been neglected in some chiefdoms. Cf. chapter 4. I undertook this task partly because I was suspicious about the validity of ' correct versions' of chiefdom histories to be found in some District Books. I now feel convinced of the artificiality of such self-consistent documents. The word mwana means' child' and the name Simba mwana Kidenda means Simba the son of Kidenda. People are commonly referred to as sons of their fathers, e.g. in the present case simply as 'Mwana Kidenda'.

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi

9. Mpuga, sister's son of Kiluma. 10. Ifiga, called Salehe, classificatory younger brother of Mpuga on his mother's side.1 11. Kibela, sister's son of Ifiga. 12. Mnhonga II, son of Ifiga. 13. Kapulilo I, son of Kiyenzile (no. 5). 14. Lukuba, son of Kapulilo. 15. Ludamila, son of Kapulilo. (Deposed and still alive in 1959.) 16. Ngalula, son of Luziga. (Deposed and still alive in 1959.)* 17. Kapulilo II, son of Lukuba and present chief. (Made chief in 1939.) The total list is seven generations deep with four generations encompassing all the chiefs from Kiyenzile (no. 5) to the present ruler Kapulilo II. It should be noted that succession becomes patrilineal from Chief Mnhonga II (no. 12) onwards.3 A second meeting was held a few days later. Simba mwana Kidenda was unable to be present. The main informants were the chief himself, Ngalula (chief no. 16), and a matrilineal descendant of Ifiga (no. 10) called Kondo. They gave a somewhat different list from that above. According to them the first five chiefs of Ibili were as follows: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

List offirst jive chiefs of Ibili collected at the second meeting Ndulansi. (According to these informants Miteni was a separate person from Ndulansi and was a headman but never a chief.) Mnhonga. Simba. Kiyumbile. (This name does not appear in Mwana Kidenda's list.) Kiyenzile.

My informants were unable to agree upon the nature of the kinship ties between these first five chiefs. According to Kondo they were all related patrilineally to each other. According to the chief and Ngalula they were all related matrilineally. No agreement could be reached upon the order of chiefs between Kiyenzile and Ifiga (no. 10 in Mwana Kidenda's list). The names cited were, however, basically the same as those given by Mwana Kidenda. These informants completely accepted Mwana Kidenda's version from Ifiga onwards. Because of the discrepancies between the first and second lists it was decided that Simba mwana Kidenda should meet the propounders of 1 3 3

Salehe is a Muslim name. The mothers of Ifiga and Mpuga were classed as sisters. See Fig. 12 in chapter 4 for the relationship of this man to Kapulilo I. For the change to patrilineal succession to the chiefship in such chiefdoms cf. chapter 2.

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the second list at a further meeting. ' We shall ask him who did this and that', they said. Before this meeting took place, however, the chief brought me a written list which had been collected at an earlier date from various royal elders.1 Some of these were now dead. The first part of this list was as follows. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

Third list oflbili chiefs Miteni, called Ndulansi. Kashindye, patrilateral parallel cousin of Miteni. Mnhonga I, son of Kashindye's daughter. Simba, son of Kashindye's daughter. Kiyenzile, son of Simba's sister's daughter. Tuli, son of Simba's sister's daughter. Kiluma, called Masanja, son of Mnhonga I. Hengele, son of Tuli. Mpuga, son of Kiyumbile's daughter. (In this list Kiyumbile was given as the brother of Kiluma (no. 7) but not as a chief.) Ifiga, son of Kiyumbile's daughter. Kibela, sister's son of Mpuga and Ifiga. Mnhonga II, classificatory son of Ifiga. Kapulilo I, son of Kiyenzile (no. 5).

The rest of the list corresponded exactly with that given by Simba mwana Kidenda at the first meeting. The total list of names and the order in which they are set corresponds closely with his account. There is, however, a considerable difference in the nature of the relationships which are said to have existed between the first thirteen chiefs. At the next meeting Mwana Kidenda reiterated his first list. After much discussion his version was accepted with some slight amendment. There were two main reasons for this. First, his father, Kidenda, had been a very knowledgeable man and Simba was known to have spent much time together with him. Secondly, it was agreed by all that succession to the chiefship had been matrilineal in the past and Mwana Kidenda's version best fitted this general rule. Richards has pointed out that it is common for such historical charters to fall into three main parts or periods.* The first part tells how the ruling family first established its position in the area which it rules. This early period is often marked by stories of the wondrous 1

The chief found this while looking through his papers for information which was relevant to my inquiry. The list was in the form of a family tree. I do not know why z it had been compounded. Richards (1960&, pp. 177-8).

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deeds and powers of the ancient chiefs. In Unyamwezi such stories are usually to be found in the early history of the royal dynasties before and up to the first divisions and expansions of their territories.1 Thus Ibambangulu of the Sagari dynasty is said to have been able to swell until he filled a house and Nkumbi of the Kamba dynasty is said to have been able to shoot an arrow with unfailing accuracy over a distance of some forty miles. Even today strange things are said to happen at Nkumbi's grave, which is in the present-day Busangi chiefdom. This is not said about the graves of later chiefs nor are these chiefs said to have had the marvellous powers of Nkumbi. The following story appears to mark the end of this first period in Ibili's history. It tells how the first two chiefs, Ndulansi and Kashindye, each ruled only for a short time. When Kashindye died, a divination was held and it was seen that the son of Kashindye must not rule and that only the children of women would survive long in office. From that time until the reign of Mnhonga II succession to the chiefship was matrilineal. It may be mentioned here that no myths exist to validate the change to patrilineal succession, which is spoken of in simple political terms. The second period which Richards talks of is one in which repetition of events is the keynote. Detailed knowledge is lacking and little more happens in centralized societies than the succession of one chief after another.2 In the Ibili material this period stretches up to the reign of Hengele, the eighth chief in Mwana Kidenda's list. The period before this reign was, I was told, an uneventful one. As my informants put the matter, 'quarrelling first started in the time of Hengele'. We have seen that the attempt to obtain even an acknowledged list of chiefs for this second period was comparatively fruitless. The third period is that which Evans-Pritchard describes as 'historical time', a time of actual happenings and accurate genealogies.3 In Ibili's history the transition into this period is a gradual one. For although a considerable amount of historical detail is known about the struggles for power of Mpuga, Ifiga, Kibela and Mnhonga II, there is still doubt about their actual relationships to each other. It is not until the reign of Kapulilo I that complete agreement among informants is reached and it is important to note that from this point onwards all the chiefs, excepting Ngalula, are close patrilineal kinsmen of the present ruler, Kapulilo II. 1 3

3 Cf. chapter 2. Richards (1960&, p. 178). Richards (19606, p. 178). The reference is to Evans-Pritchard (1940, p. 108).

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Although the history of the first two periods is incomplete it must be remembered that statements about these periods are very unlikely to be challenged from the outside. For we have seen that when outsiders do know something of the history of a chiefdom their knowledge tends to lack much time depth. Moreover, a ruling family's knowledge of these early periods is not confined to a mere list of names. General rules of the political procedure of the periods are known and we have seen that these may be applied in the evaluation of divergent historical accounts. Again, some incidental facts are known about individual chiefs and their kinsfolk. Thus we are told that Masanja (no. 4, list 1) was first called Degreki, that Simba (no. 2, list 1) was born Kashindye, and that Mnhonga I (no. 3, list 1) ruled as a result of a divination after Kashindye's death. I was also told in the course of the discussion that Kiyenzile's father was an elephant-hunter called Makuwa who came from Ugalla in the west. Often it is known where chiefs are buried. A man who wishes to claim knowledge of a chiefdom's history must know facts of this sort. ' We will ask him who did this and that', the elders said. Richards has said that genealogical manipulation to fit present-day needs is commonly referenced back to the second period of historical charters.1 This is not always the case in Unyamwezi. A distinction must be made between manipulation to validate the position of a particular group and that to validate the position of an individual ruler. It is my experience that whereas the former may be referenced back to the second period, it is in the third 'truly historical period' that adjustment of the latter sort takes place. This is reasonable enough since the validation of the position of a whole descent group naturally needs to be referenced back farther in time than does that of a single individual. Two examples will illustrate this point. The present chiefly patrilineage of one Kamba chiefdom in Kahama District traces its descent direct from Kalugula I of Nsalala, a chief of the second period of Kamba history.2 Actually, however, it appears that the grandfather of the present chief was brought into the area as a headman through the influence of Mirambo in the last century. He came from a Sagari chiefdom in what is today Nzega District. The claim to descent from Kalugula is nowadays accepted as valid and very few people in fact know that it is false. On the other hand the present chief of one of the Sagari chiefdoms in Tabora District claims direct patrilineal descent from Maganga, the 1

Richards (1960b, p. 178).

a

Cf. chapter 2.

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last chief but one, who was ruling in the days of the German administration (Fig. 25).I , Maganga Masanja Mashimba (present chief)

Fig. 25. Chief Mashimba's version of his relationship to Maganga.

It seems, however, that Masanja, the present chief's father, was born before Maganga married his mother and that he obtained the chiefship through the influence of the German District Commissioner in spite of the fact that Maganga was not his genitor. Divergences within the history of a single chiefly line do not appear normally to serve the functions which I have ascribed in chapter 2 to their occurrence in the early histories of those royal dynasties possessing several chiefdoms. There I noted how each different version may emphasize the importance of the group among whom it is found. It was also noted in chapter 4 that the existence of such different versions was symptomatic of the separate status of distinct royal lines. The divergences recorded in my investigations in Ibili appear, however, to have come to light mainly as a result of the attempt to impose Western notions of history upon a non-Western phenomenon. They lose importance if one concentrates attention simply on the functions of a charter of this sort. We have seen that it is in the second period of history that these discrepancies are found but we have also seen that only members of the ruling family of the chiefdom are likely to have knowledge of this period. From this point of view the failure to possess a complete genealogical picture of the period constitutes no disadvantage. It may in fact be argued that where genealogical manipulation is referenced back to this period, as in the case of the Ngaya chiefly line, the possession of detailed knowledge of the period could itself be a disadvantage. The function of this second period of history may be described as that of providing a bridge between the early history of a dynasty, including the foundation of the present chiefdoms, and the ascendancy of the narrow group of kin in which the chiefship is now vested. Once this ascendancy has been established, the function of the third period of historical charters becomes that of accurately 1

The names used here are fictitious ones.

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determining who the members of this kin group are. It is largely in these terms that the wealth of genealogical detail known for this third period may be understood, though there is also the simple fact that more recent events are likely to be better known than are more distant ones. Let us now turn briefly to those segments of a ruling family which hold headmanships. It was seen in chapter 4 that they fall into two main categories of those claiming patrilineal descent from an early chief and those claiming budugu wa nsi, or 'kinship of the land', but not genealogical ties with the chiefly lineage. In either case, as in that of the chiefly lineage itself, it is meaningful to talk of ownership of historical charters. In the case of segments tracing patrilineal descent from former chiefs there is some overlap with the history of the chiefly lineage and also with that of some other headmen's lineages. The situation differs from that of the chiefly lineages, however, in the following respect. In chapter 4 we saw that chiefs may stress the distance between their own and headmen's segments of the ruling family, whereas headmen tend to stress the closeness of the ties involved. This is reflected in the fact that, whereas headmen and their kin may claim to know the history of the chiefly lineage, the chiefs occasionally profess ignorance of the history of kin groups in which headmanships are vested. This ignorance is, of course, more feigned than real. The historical charter of a chiefly lineage in Unyamwezi is always supported by the possession of various objects which are associated with the chiefship. Headmen's lineages may also possess property of this sort, but it is usually found in smaller quantities than in the case of chiefly lineages, and there are important differences of detail in the form it takes. The chiefly property in question is called by the generic term shikolo sha butemi which may be translated as the 'sacred objects of chiefship'. The word shikolo designates a class of things which are different from everyday objects. It implies that the things in question are of antiquity and importance and that they have in them some element of life, that they are not simply inanimate pieces of material. They are objects which inspire awe in people. As such the shikolo sha butemi may be distinguished from other royal property such as the chief's house or his fields, the main value of which lies in their quality and their size rather than in any sacred character they have.1 The shikolo sha butemi are carefully looked after by the bagohogoho or ritual 1

For the concept of sacredness cf. Durkheim (1915, pp. 41-2).

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elders of the court. They are not normally seen except on important royal occasions such as the installation of a chief. These sacred objects may be divided into two groups. First, there are those which simply derive their sacredness from their connexion with past chiefs or with important past events. But for this connexion, they would be ordinary articles of no special significance. Stools, weapons, pots and hoes are common examples of this type of object. Through their antiquity they serve to link the present ruler with his predecessors. The second group of objects, while deriving their sacredness in this way, also derive it from the fact that they are recognized symbols of chiefly office throughout Unyamwezi. The most important objects of this group are lion skins, ivory, royal drums and shell ornaments. It will be worth while to say a little more about these. As has been mentioned earlier, the skin and fat of lions and one tusk of every elephant killed or found dead within a chiefdom were in the past royal property which had to be presented to the chief. Leopard skins were given to the greater headmen. The connexion of lions with the chiefship stems from a symbolism similar to our own in which the lion is considered as the king of beasts. In chapter 2 we saw that one of the motives ascribed to Nkumbi when he divided the old chiefdom of Bukamba was dissatisfaction because the lion skins which came to him from distant parts of the chiefdom were rotten on arrival. In modern times, chiefs are allowed to retain those lion skins which they already possess, and they may obtain permission to buy at nominal cost the skins of lions shot by the Game Department in their chiefdoms. The position with ivory is more difficult. Some chiefs are said to own tusks which are unregistered and this makes their possession technically illegal. Such ivory is very rarely talked about and its mere existence is only darkly hinted at. In the Kamba chiefdom of Mwakarunde in Nzega District, however, the chief wears ivory wristlets instead of shell ornaments. These are called masaba and the Government has allowed the chief to retain them. The story goes that when Nkumbi gave out shell ornaments to the chiefs of the new chiefdoms which he had created, the supply ran out before the chief of Mwakarunde was presented with them. Nkumbi therefore gave the ivory wristlets to him in their stead. Although lion skins are valuable possessions in themselves, they are important also as a source of leather straps for tying on the chief's shell ornaments. New straps are prepared for each installation. Occasionally, when a person claims the right to hold a defunct chiefship, his claim is

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held to be invalid because the straps attached to his shell ornaments are not of lion skin. The royal drums and shell ornaments, with their lion-skin straps, are the crucial symbols of chiefly office in Unyamwezi. Sometimes the term shikolo sha butemi is used simply to refer to these two sets of objects since they are the most important part of any collection of chiefly property. Their importance is revealed in the story of how the Kamba dynasty came to possess its present territories. They came as hunters into the country of the Manda dynasty, which was ruled by a Manda chief called Mhowa. There one of them married the chief's daughter and she bore him a son whom the chief immediately put to death. This happened on two further occasions. When a fourth son was born, however, the parents told the chief that they had had a daughter and they dressed the child in the garb of a little girl. When the boy grew older his parents went to the chief and told him that their child was sick and that the diviners had told them it was necessary for her to have the ornaments and drums of chiefship with her if she was to live. The chief, without suspicion, granted their request.1 Once they had possession of these royal insignia the Kamba immediately installed the boy as a chief. The old chief was angry and started a war against them in which he was defeated. They did not take all his territory but left him with the present-day chiefdom of Mwingilo, which borders on Nsalala Ndogo in Geita District. The rest became the property of the Kamba, who rule it to this day. The ruling families of chiefdoms are not the only possessors of drums and shell ornaments, and so the value of these as symbols of chiefly office depends upon their being of a particular type. The royal drums are known by a special name, rnilango. They form a set of five or six in number and they are not all of the same size as each other.2 The drums are hung for playing upon a wooden support which rests upon two wooden uprights. Each drum has a strap by which it hangs from the support. They are cylindrical in shape and taper suddenly into a much narrower cylinder at the bottom. They are strung drums and the skin, commonly that of hartebeeste, is stretched over a cylindrical wooden frame. As a set of drums they are quite distinct from any used for ordinary purposes. A good account of shell ornaments in Unyamwezi has been presented 1 2

Female chiefs were unknown in this part of Unyamwezi. Cf. chapter 2. Individual drums do not symbolize particular divisions of the ruling family as among the Ganda. Cf. Richards (1961, pp. 148-9). 8-2

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in a recent article by Harding.1 The following three sorts are worn by chiefs at their installation:2 (1) Ndezi. These are the most important of the three types. They are circular in shape and are attached to lion skin wristlets and anklets. (2) Shilungu, These are circular shells attached to lion skin straps and are worn around the neck or in some cases around the forehead.3 (3) Lupingu. This is triangular in shape and is strung on a string of glass beads. Commoners, and especially diviners, often wear shell ornaments. In the past the conical shells from which the ornaments were made were scarce and supplies were solely in the hands of chiefs. Today other sources of supply exist. It is rare for commoners to possess shell ornaments of the circular sort unless they are diviners. Even in the case of diviners it is rare for the shell to be strung on lion skin. Should this be the case it is probable that the ornament was given by a chief to a diviner who had rendered him a valuable service. Shell ornaments were traditionally one of the greatest gifts that a chief could bestow on a person, but only the shilungu and lupingu were given. Full sets of shell ornaments are never possessed by commoners unless they have claims to chiefly office somewhere. To state that the royal property under discussion derives its sacred quality from historical and symbolic connexions with chiefship is, of course, to imply that chiefship itself has a sacred character. A brief discussion will help to clarify this point. Distinctions between different sorts of power are well known in sociological literature.4 By power I mean, in Weber's words, 'the probability that one actor in a social relationship will be in a position to carry out his own will despite resistance, regardless of the basis on which the probability exists \5 Following from this definition, an important distinction may be drawn depending on whether or not power is socially recognized and respected. The recognized and respected form 1

Harding (1961, pp. 55-9 and passim). Harding's article is more concerned with the distribution of shell ornaments in East and Central Africa than with their functions as symbols of status. 2 Cf. Cory (1951, pp. 17-26) for an account of the shell ornaments and other royal objects used in Sukuma installations. 3 One of the shilungu is worn around the forehead in more southerly chiefdoms. This custom is not found in the north. 4 Cf. Durkheim (1915, pp. 207 ff.), Weber (1947, pp. 139 ff.), andNadel (1951, p. 169). 5 Weber (i947> p. 139)-

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may be usefully termed 'authority' and the unrespected and de facto form 'coercion'.1 Now, according to Durkheim, from whom my concept of the sacred is taken, sacred things are representations of the collective will and their sacredness becomes manifest in the attitude of society towards them.2 They are protected and isolated by various interdictions and they are felt to command one's respect. I believe that it is possible to argue that 'authority', as distinct from 'coercion', closely corresponds with Durkheim's definition of the sacred. Durkheim himself states, in fact, that the essence of authority is its command of respect. Clearly this respect, on a social and political level, is directly connected with his more mystical concept of the collective will which is the source of sacredness.3 Put in its strongest form the argument would claim that the distinction between 'authority' and 'coercion' as defined above is exactly that which has been drawn between 'the sacred' and 'the profane'.4 However this may be for authority in general, the case holds well for Nyamwezi chiefship and the authority vested in it. Generally a highly respected position, it is hedged with various interdictions, some of which are described later in the chapter. In the hands of the chief lies much of the maintenance of law and order in the society, and there is still some feeling that he is connected with the physical environment upon which the continuation of life in Unyamwezi depends so strongly. The chiefdom is the largest single unit in Nyamwezi society and the chief stands as a symbol of its unity and of the orderly progress of social life within it. A complex installation ceremony exists, as we shall see, and this ceremony corresponds with the elaborate rituals which Durkheim insists are necessary for a movement from the area of the profane to that of the sacred. It is in these terms that the office may be called a sacred one and that the property symbolically and historically connected with it obtains the sacred quality implied in the word shikolo. 1

3

4

It may be noted that this is not a distinction between physical force and other instruments of power, since the use of physical force may be coupled with either authority or coercion, though it is likely to be found more regularly coupled with coercion. The distinction is similar to that drawn by Nadel (1951, p. 169) but I have substituted ' coercion' for his ' power' in order to leave' power' as a term covering both' authority' 2 and 'coercion'. Durkheim (1915, pp. 41-2). The concept of a collective will is a difficult one in Durkheim though the sorts of things he is referring to are clear enough. The collective will manifests itself in the form of generalized and approved respect towards things. When an office receives such respect it may be argued that it possesses authority and represents the collective will of the society. I first heard this argument stated by E. R. Leach in an informal discussion.

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi

So much then for the bases upon which groups rest their claims to the prerogatives of chiefly office. Let us now turn to the mechanisms through which chiefship is transferred from one person to another. SUCCESSION TO CHIEFSHIP

The period during which an office is without an incumbent is a critical one in the passage of that office through time, and an examination of how this period is handled is important for our understanding of the mechanisms of change or continuity in a society. It is in this light that I now wish to consider succession to the chiefship in modern Nyamwezi political organization and to compare it with the traditional system on which I have most information, namely, that said to have been found in those chiefdoms in which matrilineal succession to the chiefship was the rule. Much of the material for this analysis has been presented in the previous chapters. We saw in chapter 2 that the chief was traditionally the ritual and economic and, to a lesser extent, the administrative hub of his chiefdom. The well-being of the chiefdom was held to be embodied in him and good or ill fortune was largely felt to follow chiefdom boundaries. The chiefs of this period are said never to have ventured more than a few miles from their headquarters and then only under strong protection from the elders of the court. A chief who fell ill and seemed unlikely to recover was strangled by some of these elders with the connivance of his great wife, the nyihanga. As one might expect in circumstances such as these, the period between the death or removal of one chief and the installation ofanother was felt to be especially dangerous for the chiefdom. The ordinary Nyamwezi words for 'death' and 'dying' were never used about a chief. In their stead euphemisms such as the statement 'He has handed on his drums' were used. Again, the serious sickness and death of a chief were secrets strictly kept within the court. They only became common knowledge when the successor was ready for his installation. This secrecy may be usefully considered as a mechanism for achieving a smooth and unimpeded succession to the chiefship. The desire for this was based on two considerations. The first was the fear of mystical danger threatening the chiefdom when it was without a chief. The second was the more practical fear of attack by other chiefdoms, since chiefs had important ritual functions in war.1 1

Cory (1951, pp. 64-73) gives a detailed account of the traditional role of the Sukuma chief in war.

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The successor was chosen by divination after the death or removal of the previous chief. Both in the choosing of successors and in the ceremonies of installation there was a division of labour which was well suited for the task of handing on the office without interruption.1 The choosing of the new chief was organized by the banyikulu, the ngabe, and the greater headmen of the chiefdom. We have seen earlier in chapters 2 and 4 how people were recruited to these posts. The crucial point here is that none of them were themselves eligible to be chief since the banyikulu and ngabe were not of royal blood and the greater headmen were never matrilineal descendants of former chiefs. When a successor had been chosen, men were sent to bring him to the installation. The batemi kazi or women capable of bearing chiefs were often married outside the chiefdom. Thus the mother of Nsabi I of Nsalala was married in the neighbouring Sumbwa chiefdom of Mbogwe. When Nsabi was chosen to be chief he was seized at night and brought back to Nsalala. He was, we are told, extremely surprised to be seized in this way and his installation is said to have started before he was properly aware of what was happening. Although the greater headmen took part in the choosing of a chief, the ceremonies of installation were mainly in the hands of the bagohogoho and ngabe. The actual investment of the chief with his regalia was, however, performed by the kitunga. After the installation the kitunga was always banished from the chiefdom and was only allowed to contact the chief through intermediaries. Here again we see the danger felt to exist at the time when no chief was in office. By investing the chief with his regalia the kitunga, at the same time as he bridges the gap between chiefs, emphasizes the fact that the gap is there to be bridged, and that by human hands. It is of interest in this respect that his title is kitunga. The word derives from the transitive verb kutunga, which means' to dress'. The prefix ki-, however, is that used in Kinyamwezi for a class of things as distinct from persons. It appears as if the Nyamwezi are euphemistically denying the importance of the kitunga by putting him into this category. Briefly, then, the traditional system appears to have been one in which continuity was highly valued. The chief was chosen and installed by people who were themselves ineligible to hold chiefly office. Commoners played no part in the handling of the interregnum, which was kept quite secret. Commonly the successor was living outside the 1

As described in chapter 2, the system later developed weaknesses owing to the increase in the power of the greater headmen in the nineteenth century.

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chiefdom. Even when this was not the case, however, he was not informed of the death of his predecessor until the last moment. We may say that the system was built to preclude strife about the chiefship and that various mechanisms were employed to ensure a smooth transition from one chief to the next. Let us now turn to the present situation. Apart from the change to patrilineal succession, the crucial difference from the traditional system is that two further parties are actively interested in the handling of the interregnum. These are the commoners of the chiefdom and the Central Government. The former elect the chief under the supervision of the latter.1 From this it becomes clear that the death of a chief is no longer a matter of secrecy. Nor is the use of ritual euphemism about it strictly adhered to. Moreover, if the death of a chief is common knowledge, so too is the fact that for a period of time the chiefdom has no chief. It may be asked, then, whether there is not considerable danger to the chiefdom at this point. Before we go on to discuss this, some preliminary statements must be made. First, people today believe less strongly in the idea that the wellbeing of the chiefdom is embodied in the person of the chief. Hence there is less fear of mystical danger arising from the absence of a chief. In addition there is Government supervision of a chiefdom during an interregnum and this considerably limits the possibility of any form of interference from another chiefdom, and outright attack is of course impossible today. Finally the concept of danger to a chiefdom is partly a subjective one since some people may consider dangerous to a chiefdom an event which seems to others to be salutary. Because of this, it will be simpler here to talk of continuity and threats to it, rather than of danger to the chiefdoms themselves. Since the interregna are supervised by Central Government it is not unreasonable to suppose that Government itself will be a major source of any threats to continuity which do exist. Some interregna are in fact of long duration, and Government manipulation of them is not unknown. Two fairly typical examples will illustrate this point. The greater headmanship of Mhalu in Nsalala chiefdom became an independent unit under the German administration. In the early years of British rule Ntabo, the chief of Mhalu, died leaving three young sons. The ritual officers of the chiefdom wished to install Mashimba, the eldest of these, as chief but the Central Government decided that the child was too young to rule and put the chiefdom under the 1

Cf. chapters 3 and 4.

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'temporary' control of the neighbouring chief of Ngogwa chiefdom which had also been a greater headmanship. When Mashimba grew older another attempt was made from within Mhalu to install him as chief. This time it was decided by Government that the burdens of chiefship were too heavy for an untrained youth and that he should, therefore, first obtain experience in administrative work. For this reason he was given work as a court clerk in the nearby chiefdom of Kahama. In 1935 Mashimba died in a car accident. Up till this point, Government had always said that Mhalu would again become an independent chiefdom. From the death of Mashimba onwards, however, they took the standpoint that Mhalu was a part of Ngogwa and would remain so. Attempts to alter this state of affairs by the younger sons of the late chief have gone on steadily since the death of their elder brother but without success. Finally, in 1959, a compromise was reached and one of them was made the headman of a section of his father's former chiefdom. The area is part of Ngogwa for once and all. Here we see the Government extending and exploiting an interregnum in order to abolish the independent status of a chiefdom. The period of interregnum is clearly a most useful one in this respect since it obviates the need for removing a chief before abolishing his office.1 My second example is from Tabora District. In 1958 the chief of Busagari chiefdom died a very old man. The exact circumstances of his death were not clear, however, and accusations of poisoning were made from within the royal household against one of his sons. This son was arrested and detained in custody for five months. At the end of this period it was decided that the charges against him were unsubstantiated and he was released. While he was in prison, however, attempts were made from within the chiefdom to hold the elections necessary for choosing a new chief. These attempts were resisted by Government who argued that the arrested man had not yet been found guilty or not guilty. If he was found not guilty then he would be eligible for election, and an election held before the case was settled would not be a fair one. During the interregnum Busagari was governed by a wakili or deputy, who was brought in from a neighbouring chiefdom on the ground that there was no one capable of the work in Busagari itself. The elections were held after the release of the arrested son and he won them convincingly. The first attempt to install him as chief was unsuccessful, however, since complaints were lodged with the 1

Liebenow (i960, p. 239) mentions comparable exploitation of interregna in Sukumaland.

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Provincial Commissioner that the District Commissioner had held unfair elections. A meeting of neighbouring chiefs headed by the District Commissioner was convened to examine the complaints. The District Commissioner spoke at length and clearly demonstrated that the elections themslves had been fairly organized. Charges that the outside deputy had spent his time at Busagari in instructing people how to vote were dismissed as unfounded. The claims of a rival family to the chiefship of Busagari were also dealt with at this meeting. It appears that this family was driven out by the present ruling family in the last half of the nineteenth century. They claimed that since the Government had restored other rightful claimants to their chiefships, a similar justice should be meted out to them.1 Various arguments were, however, used against them. First, it was said the elections had been held and a chief chosen. Secondly, the rival family had already entered a formal claim with Central Government and the present meeting should not try to settle a matter which was subjudice. Finally, it was pointed out that the present site of Busagari chiefdom was originally a part of the neighbouring chiefdom of Ibili. It had been removed there in the 1920s because of the incursion of tsetse fly into its former location. 'Are you claiming the present chiefdom of Busagari,' one chief asked the claimants, 'or are you claiming the tsetse infested bush which is all that remains of the old chiefdom?' The combined force of these three arguments sufficed to silence the rival family at this meeting. On the second attempt the installation of the new chief was duly performed. The speeches made at the ceremony testified to the presence of conflict and discord in the chiefdom. After the ceremony I met a senior Government official who told me that the new chief was the only man whom Government considered suitable for the office. Here we have a situation in which the interregnum was controlled in order to facilitate the election of a man who otherwise might not have been chosen. The administration supported him because he was literate and had experience of Native Authority work. He was the most suitable of all available candidates for the furtherance of Government's policy of reshaping the chiefship by having as chiefs men with modern ideas and administrative experience.2 It should be noted that the two examples given above are concerned with two distinct types of continuity. In the Mhalu case, the continued 1

A case quoted by these claimants was that of Busongo chiefdom in Nzega District. This case is discussed in chapter 4. The ambivalent attitude of Government to such 2 situations was noted in chapter 3. Cf. chapter 4.

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independence of a particular chiefship was threatened. In Busagari only the continuity of the form of chiefship was involved since no attempt was made to abolish the chiefdom as a separate unit.1 So far in this section I have tried to show that the system of handling the interregna has changed greatly from that which was traditionally employed, and that the differences between the two systems are diagnostic of changes in the chiefship itself. Today the Central Government has strong control over the handling of interregna and this control is an important weapon in its attempt to remould the indigenous political organization. I now wish to turn to an examination of the actual ceremonies of installation. An account of the installation of a Kamba chief which took place in 1941 will provide a useful basis for discussion. This account was given to me by the chief in question, and checks which I have been able to make testify to its accuracy. I use it here since it is the only firsthand account I have which covers both the private ceremonies of installation and the public ceremonies which follow these. On the evening prior to his public installation, the chief-to-be was seized by two of the ritual elders, bagohogoho, of the chiefdom and was taken inside the itindikilo or initiation house.2 The bagohogoho enveloped him in a lion skin when seizing him and beat him with sticks. He spent the night inside the initiation house along with his two main wives, the nyihanga and the nyihojo, as well as the ritual elders and some diviners.3 Also in the house was a small black dog with a patch of light hair above each eye. Such a dog is called a four-eyed dog, iwa lya miso anneA 1

2

3 4

Fortes (1949, pp. 54-5) has pointed out that there are three ways in which time may be intrinsic to social processes. First, there is continuity, which is typified for me by the traditional system described. Secondly, there is discontinuity, which I feel fits the Mhalu case. Thirdly, there is growth. The distinction between growth and discontinuity is a delicate one which turns ultimately upon the fact that a thing may change considerably without being held to be different in its essentials. The persistence of names in spite of changes in the objects named is symptomatic of the problem here. I prefer to consider Government's attempts to develop the chiefship as an example of growth rather than discontinuity, since the office has retained both its name and certain other characteristics. The word itindikilo comes from the verb kutindika, which means to initiate either into an office or into a secret society. In the past, according to my informant, a special hut was built for the occasion. Cory (1951, p. 13), however, states that the house of the great wife was traditionally used for this purpose in Sukumaland. The traditional functions of the nyihanga and nyihojo were described in chapter 2. Their importance has decreased as the chiefship has become more secular. The meaning of the dog's presence is obscure. According to Bosch (1930, p. 498) such a dog represents the hunting ancestry of Nyamwezi ruling families, but I did not encounter this idea in the field.

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Political Organization oj Unyamwezi

While in the initiation house, the chief-to-be and his two wives were given various instructions by the ritual elders. They were told never to eat zebra, giraffe, guinea-fowl, spur-fowl, the greater ant-eater, and wild pig, nor were they to allow these creatures within the royal residence. Most of them are spotted or striped and have symbolic associations with leprosy in the minds of the people.1 The chief and his wife were also told not to have sexual intercourse in the open nor to eat at night or inside their huts. They should eat outside so that others might eat with them. They were forbidden to have anything to do with sorcery and they were warned not to see the kitunga, the royal dresser, after the ceremonies, though in this case he was not banished from the chiefdom. They were also told to be very careful where they spat or urinated. The two wives were instructed to keep secret anything they saw or heard in the royal household. During the night the diviners were busy preparing medicines for the installation, and in the early morning the ritual elders prepared new straps for the regalia of the chief and his wives. Those of the chief and of the senior wife, nyihanga, were of lion skin. Those of the junior wife, nyihojo, were of cow skin, and a beast was specially slaughtered for this purpose. When the preparation was completed, the chief and his wives were seated upon the royal stools and, having had their heads shaved, they were invested with their various regalia by the kitunga. At about 4 p.m. they were taken out for the public part of the ceremonies, which is called wanila. A space for the wanila had already been prepared and the royal drums had been set up there. Since the death of the previous chief, the striking of these drums had been forbidden. The procession from the initiation house was led by one of the ritual elders, since at this time the chiefdom had no ngabe. The chief wore his regalia and carried a variety of royal objects including a bow, a spear, a shield and a lynx skin. The main wife, nyihanga, carried a wooden spoon. The stools, a tray with millet on it, some gourds and a basketwork cup were carried by the ritual elders. The substitute ngabe carried a metal-shafted spear to which was attached a bell, and as he walked he sang repetitively Kamunhenga, ngwize wilolelwe, which means ' Come out and be seen, kamunhenga9, this being the name of a pretty little bird.* The royal drums were now being beaten and a large crowd followed the procession. Women in the crowd threw millet on the chief and his wives. 1

This symbolism is often stated by the people. Cf. Speke (1864, p. 350) and Grant 2 (1864, p. 90) for early reports of such prohibitions. Cf. Cory (1951, p. 24).

Mechanisms of Continuity

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On arrival at the prepared space, the chief and his wives were seated on the stools. The drums were silenced and the acting ngabe took a new gourd and split it above the heads of the chief and his wives. As he did so, he warned the chief that if he did not act carefully, his chiefdom would be split as the gourd had been. The chief, he said, had no father or mother; all, even these, were his children. He should not hesitate to share his food with any of his subjects. He should be just in court, neither favouring the rich nor maltreating the poor. The prosperity of the land was in his hands and he must follow the customs of his predecessors. He should be ever mindful of his subjects and respect them. The speaker then turned to the subjects who were assembled there and told them to help and respect their chief. He then announced a new name for the chief. During the course of these speeches, a mixture of millet and water had been prepared in the basket-work cup and the speaker now spat it upon the chief and his wives in blessing. This is a form of blessing which recurs throughout Nyamwezi ritual. Then a neighbouring chief who had been invited to the installation made a similar speech to the crowd, and gave a further name to the chief. When the speeches and the naming were completed, the subjects came forward to greet their new chief and give him gifts. The royal drums were beaten once again, and the chief and his wives retired to their house to rest while their subjects danced outside. Later on, the three of them returned to watch the celebrations. The final event of the installation ceremonies was the kindling of fire by rubbing sticks together.1 Before the subjects came to the wanila all fire had been extinguished in the chiefdom. Now on their return to their homes the new fire was taken with them. In this way the commencement of a new reign was symbolized throughout the chiefdom. Such then are the actual ceremonies of installation. A most important point about these ceremonies, in the present context, is the fact that they appear to have changed but little in the course of a long period of time. They are found in more or less similar form over a fairly wide area and it seems unlikely that they should have spread simply during colonial times.2 We have seen that their enactment is in the hands of 1 2

New fire does not appear commonly in Nyamwezi ritual, as it does among the Bemba. Cf. Richards (1956, p. 141 and passim). A comparison of my material with the account in Cory (1951, pp. 13-28) reveals the strong similarity between the Kamba ceremonies and those said to have existed in the chiefdoms of the Siha dynasty in the Shinyanga District of Sukumaland. See, too, the account in Bosch (1930, pp. 494-500). In an account of past and present installation

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the ritual officers of the chiefdom and it should be pointed out that these men are the centre of conservatism in a chiefdom. This conservatism shows itself in their injunction to the chief to follow the customs of his predecessors. As men of little or no education in the Western sense, the ritual officers of a chiefdom are not interested in Western ideas of progress and development. Moreover, the very nature of their work as the guardians of royal property and experts in traditional ritual and custom tends to encourage their interest in the past. Although their importance is recognized by Central Government, they do not receive any official salaries or payments for their work. They are dependent on the chief himself for any rewards they may be given. Traditionally these rewards were quite considerable but nowadays they are tending to decrease steeply. As such it is natural that their interests should be oriented towards maintaining the traditional system of government as vigorously as they are able. The interstitial position of African chiefs between forces for change and continuity is well known.1 In Unyamwezi it may be seen quite clearly in the period of interregnum which is brought to a conclusion by the installation of a new chief. On the one hand we have the main period of the interregnum controlled and sometimes manipulated for its own ends by a Central Government which is interested in the development of indigenous political institutions. On the other hand we find the installation ceremonies themselves controlled by a conservative group of ritual officers. These two groups are, to some extent, in competition and have exercised considerable influence upon each other. Indirect influence of Government may be perceived in the decline in the observance of traditional rituals today and also in the actual decrease in numbers of the ritual officers.2 We also find that the presence of Government may be more directly imposed upon the installation ceremonies themselves. Government officers commonly attend the public ceremonies and make speeches there. They may even try to influence events in the itindikilo. Thus one chief told me that when he was installed in 1947 the District Commissioner advised him not to let himself be roughly treated in the initiation house and also to complain to Government if he was so treated. The influence of the conservative elements upon Government is

1 2

ceremonies in the Mwanza District of Sukumaland, Tanner (1957, p. 207) also points out the considerable degree of continuity to be found there. Fallers (1956) gives one of the most detailed accounts of this situation. Cf. chapters 4 and 5.

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mainly limiting in its nature. It may be seen in the tact and circumspection with which Government is forced to pursue its policies of change. In the Mhalu case described above the ritual officers formed the main core of the opposition to Government when it placed the chiefdom under the tutelage of Ngogwa. Open conflict between Government and the conservative elements in a chiefdom is in large part prevented, however, by the somewhat paradoxical respect which Government itself has for traditional institutions.1 This respect is not misplaced. The unchanging nature of the installation ceremonies we have described cannot be explained simply in terms of the conservatism of the ritual officers. It depends also upon the existence of continuities in the political situation, and it seems clear that the ceremonies traditionally served functions which are still meaningful today. One of these, as has been pointed out by Cory for Sukumaland, is the need for ceremonial to mark off as a chief a person who was, until his accession, merely one of a number of eligible candidates for chiefly office.2 In addition, the admonition of the ngabe to both chiefs and subjects that they should help and respect each other points to an interdependence between them which, despite the many changes in its form, has apparently always been a major feature of chiefsubject relationships. This interdependence will be examined in detail in chapter 7. 1 2

Cf. chapter 3. Cory (1951, p. 4). Beattie (1959, pp. 108-9) has made a similar point in a comparative discussion of some African succession procedures. Cf. also Fortes (1962, pp. 70-1 and passim) for a discussion of this and other major functions of such ceremonies.

7 RULERS AND SUBJECTS In the last chapter an account was given of the historical charters to royal office and the system of succession to such office. In the present chapter I wish to examine the chiefdom structure as a functioning system of relationships. To this end I shall consider the interdependence which exists between the rulers, i.e. chiefs and their subordinate authorities, in a chiefdom and their subjects, and I shall also discuss the various checks which serve to prevent rulers from abusing their power. Finally, I shall examine how chiefs deal with some of the problems which confront them in their work. CHIEFS AND SUBJECTS: BASIC INTERDEPENDENCE

Every citizen of a Nyamwezi chiefdom derives certain advantages from his citizenship. The most important of these are the secure tenure of land on which he may live and cultivate and the benefits of a system of law and arbitration which guarantees his ability to pursue his life in a peaceful and orderly way. Of strong importance in the past but much less so in modern times are the rituals which some chiefs perform on behalf of their subjects.1 The chief, on the other hand, derives certain advantages from his subjects. His prestige as a ruler depends upon them and his salary is taken out of the various Native Authority taxes which they pay. It may be seen, then, that the interdependence between a chief and his subjects is of a very fundamental nature.2 It is worth while to examine the main points of this interdependence in greater detail. Subjects have secure tenure of land3

Like many other Bantu-speaking peoples the Nyamwezi say that the chief is the owner of all the land in his chiefdom.4 If, however, we 1 2 3

4

Cf. chapter 5 and also the discussion at the end of this chapter. Mair (1957, pp. 32-5) gives a useful general discussion of this question. The rules of Nyamwezi land tenure are described by Cory (1955 a, pp. 47-58). Malcolm (i953 > PP- 26-7, 116 and passim) has demonstrated the security of tenure in the closely related Sukuma system. Because of these two works I confine myself here to an account of the main points involved. The problems of analysing such statements have been well covered by many writers. Cf. Hailey (1938, pp. 832-6), Richards (1939, pp. 244-51 and passim), Gluckman F 128 1

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129

examine the actual rights which people exercise over land, the picture we obtain is as follows. Every household head living in a Nyamwezi chiefdom has the right to hold land both for cultivation and for habitation and there are three main ways in which he may acquire it. First, he may clear an area of virgin or regenerated bush. He need not obtain permission to do this but he is bound to determine who are the headmen and chief of the area and he is expected to make himself known to them. He must also be careful not to conflict with other persons who may be clearing land in his vicinity. The second main method of obtaining land is through the allocation of an already cleared plot. The chief himself does not distribute such land to his subjects, this task being delegated mainly to the village headmen, though appeals against their decisions may be made to their superiors. The chief, however, has some rights to allocate to headmen land which will be under their control.1 Finally, a man may obtain land by inheritance either from his father or from some other close kinsman. Although Cory states that inheritance by a son does not require the permission of a headman, political authorities in my experience consider such inheritance to be a privilege which depends upon their own tacit consent.2 Where there is a localized shortage of land, a headman may apparently insist upon an heir's surrendering other holdings in the village when he takes over his deceased kinsman's fields and homestead. Moreover, a person who wishes to inherit a kinsman's land has no right to choose only a part of the holding and leave the rest. The land must normally be inherited as a single lot, and any reductions in the holding are decided by the headman. The comparative frequency of these three methods of obtaining land varies both from place to place and also in accordance with the circumstances of the individuals concerned. On the whole, the allocation of cleared land appears to be the commonest method of obtaining it these days. Ifa man dies without anyone to inherit his fields, or if he moves away from the village, his land reverts to the village headman for re-allocation. A man who has obtained land, however, and who continues to live on it and cultivate it cannot be deprived of it either by the chief or by his headmen. A person also has the right to retain fallow land providing that the period of fallow does not exceed three years. A man who

1

(1943, pp. 8-10, 14-21 and passim), Meek (1946, pp. 10-27), Malcolm (1953, p. 20 and passim) and Mair (1957, pp. 34, 47-9, 54). 2 Cf. chapter 4. Cory (1955tf, p. 50).

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Political Organization ofUnyamwezi

cleared a holding for himself, however, may sometimes successfully resist the seizure of land which has stood fallow for more than three years, and an example of this is considered later in the chapter.1 Neither chief nor subject has the right to sell land in a chiefdom. Chiefs and headmen possess their own fields on which crops belonging to them are cultivated and these fields are often extensive and of good quality. The statement that the chief owns all the land in his chiefdom means, in fact, that all who live in the chiefdom are his subjects. Land is generally plentiful in Unyamwezi and has no value for chiefs except as a place where subjects may live. The truth of this is reflected in the fact that neither today nor in the past have payments customarily been made to chiefs or headmen in order to obtain the right to settle in a chiefdom. It may be seen from this brief survey that, despite his inability to sell his holding, and although he ultimately seems to need permission to inherit land, a Nyamwezi subject has considerable security of tenure of the land he holds. In fact, it has been pointed out by Mair that insecurity of tenure often follows the obtaining of the right to sell one's holding.* Subjects have the benefit of a system of law and arbitration

We have seen in chapter 5 that one of the most important functions of the chief is the settlement of disputes and cases in which his subjects are involved, and it was noted that the courts are used a great deal. The structure and procedure of the chief's court have also been described in that chapter. The system of law and order of which these courts are part is a fundamental feature of chiefdom citizenship. As a citizen of a chiefdom a person is expected to follow various rules of behaviour and the chief's court guarantees his and his fellow citizens' conformity to these rules. A very wide range of rights over both persons and property is covered by the system. Thus we find cases concerning boundaries of fields, breach of contract, theft, violence, abuse, adultery, divorce, inheritance, and rights over children being settled by the chief's court.3 The chief's court is, however, more than a centre for the defence ofjural rights. It is also a place where advice, especially in domestic matters, may be readily obtained. It has been mentioned in an earlier context that the decisions of the 1 2 3

Meek (1946, p. 23) points out that almost universally work creates rights. Cf. Mair (1957, pp. 48-9). There is further discussion of the sorts of cases heard in chiefdom courts in chapter 8.

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chief's court are open to appeal. They are also regularly reviewed by District Officers. It is a testimony to the satisfactory nature of these decisions that very few cases go to appeal and very few judgements are reversed or modified by Government. It may be added that no charge is made for appeal in criminal cases and that in civil cases the charge is too small to act as a deterrent against appeal. The efficiency of chiefs' courts is also often praised by Government officers. The ability of the chief to settle cases satisfactorily depends in part upon the authority which is vested in his office. It also depends, however, upon his experience and that of his court elders and upon his and their personal knowledge of the disputants and defendants. This personal knowledge is highly valued by chiefs. Thus the chief of Busangi told me, 'In my first year of office I tried to get to know all my subjects by name. In the second year I tried to get to know them by their characters.' In the larger chiefdoms such personal knowledge is, of course, impossible for the chief alone. As was seen in chapter 4, however, much of the court work in such chiefdoms is normally carried out by sub-chiefs who are in control of subdivisions of the chiefdom. Many cases are settled by the chief or by his headmen without ever reaching the level of a formal court hearing. Sometimes this is due to the discovery that there is insufficient evidence to bring a case. Often, however, it is because it has proved possible to reconcile the disputants. It may be mentioned here that the distinction between formal and informal hearings is, of course, in large part due to innovations introduced by Government. These include the building of separate court houses, the introduction of court clerks and court registers and files, and the establishment by statute of what constitutes a valid court. The function of the chief's court as a centre of advice as well as judgement is well illustrated by the manner in which divorce cases are dealt with. Before a claim for divorce is formally registered with the court, informal attempts are made to reconcile the parties. But even when the case is heard in formal court every effort is made to achieve a reconciliation and to give the disputants advice on how to carry on their marriage satisfactorily. It is only after such efforts have failed that a divorce is granted and it is significant that such cases are often registered by the clerk as claims for the restitution of conjugal rights even when the person bringing the case is actively seeking a divorce. Briefly, we may say that the chief's court serves to guarantee a large proportion of the rights of subjects over persons and property. Much use is made of the court both for settling disputes and eliciting advice. 9-2

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Political Organization ofUnyamwezi

Chiefs place great weight upon the value of the service which they render to their subjects through their courts and often use this as an argument against troublesome subjects. Thus they will tell such people that, while they are willing to quarrel with their chief at the moment, they will not hesitate to run to his court if they have a dispute to be settled. This is, in fact, a generally accepted argument and I have never heard anyone try to deny its validity. It may, I think, be fairly said that the judicial functions of the chief are one of the strongest factors in the acceptance of chiefship by the subject-body. Chiefs obtain salary and prestige through their subjects

The dependence of a Nyamwezi chief upon his subjects is recognized by the people themselves. As already stated, a chief is said to own all the land in his chiefdom but it is the subjects living on the land and not the land itself that are of value to him. A traditional question and answer expresses this fact for the Nyamwezi: 'A chief is chief of what?' 'Ntemi ali ntemi wa kiV they ask and the regular reply is, 'He is a chief of men', 'AH ntemi wa banhu.9 Table 13. Salaries of chiefs in some Kahama District chiefdoms in ig6o

Chiefdom Kahama Ukune Busangi Mpunze Bulungwa

Number of taxpayers 9,713 2,801

Monthly salary of chief (shillings) 850 350

647

300 250

127

200

1,220

We have seen that chiefs used to receive tribute from their subjects in the past. The amount of tribute they received was largely dependent on the number of subjects they had. Today chiefs receive regular monthly salaries paid from Native Treasury funds. The main source of these funds is the taxes which are paid by subjects and the salary of a chief is closely connected with the number of taxpayers in his chiefdom. This connexion may be seen in Table 13, which gives the i960 figures for some of the Kahama District chiefdoms. Other factors influencing salaries are the principle that a chief should have a minimum wage, in this case 200 shillings, and the recognition of the importance of the number of cattle in his chiefdom.

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The prestige of a chief also depends in part upon the number of subjects he has. A chief with many subjects and a consequently high salary can purchase objects which are symbols of high status such as a motor car or hunting rifle, and he can afford to be more generous than a poorer chief. Chiefs with many subjects also tend to act more independently of Government. Thus the chief of the large chiefdom of Unyanyembe was able to side fairly openly with the Tanganyika African National Union at a time when lesser chiefs were afraid to do so even secretly. Even lesser chiefs may, however, obtain prestige through their subjects. The mere fact of being a leader with followers is, of course, to some extent prestigious in itself. Moreover, any chief who treats his subjects fairly and considerately can rule his chiefdom more efficiently because of this, and the ability to rule efficiently will bring him the respect of fellow chiefs and Central Government alike. The chief of the small chiefdom of Busangi in Kahama District illustrates this point. Despite the smallness of his chiefdom, other chiefs and also Government officials listened to him carefully and he was often chosen to represent the Nyamwezi chiefs of the District at outside meetings. CHIEFS AND SUBJECTS: CHECKS UPON THE POWER OF THE CHIEF

In the last section I discussed the main advantages which chiefs and subjects gain from their relationship with each other. The chiefsubject relationship is, however, essentially an asymmetrical one. It is an authority relationship in which a majority of jural privilege is held by the chief himself. It is this fact which is apparently implied in the beating of a chief prior to his installation, for traditionally the beating was accompanied by an admonition to him that this was the last time when he would be beaten by the hands of men. Similarly, his authority is expressed in the statement made to him at the ensuing ceremonies that all people, even his own parents, are his children. It is also recognized in these ceremonies that the power of his position is open to abuse. Thus we find the admonitions to him to behave justly and impartially and to take account of the needs of his subjects. In the present section I wish to consider some of the factors which serve to prevent a chief from abusing the power he has over his subjects. A discussion of the relationship between a chief and his subordinate authorities as apart from his commoner subjects is reserved for the next section. The position of chiefs in modern Unyamwezi is difficult, as will

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become apparent in a later section of this chapter. It is, however, also a desirable position, and chiefs who would readily give up their office are extremely rare. This point is important for the efficacy of some of the checks upon the power of chiefs and it seems worth while to say a little more about it here. Some of the factors involved have already been referred to in other contexts. The desirability of chiefly office depends upon both material and social advantages which it holds for its incumbent. The material advantages are a comparatively large salary, the provision of good housing, the use of extensive land of good quality for one's own crops, and the possibility of travel, sometimes far afield, at the public expense. Chiefs also normally have more wives than have their subjects. I do not possess full information on this topic, but it may be noted that whereas it is rather rare for a subject to have three or more wives, chiefs commonly have five or more.1 Social advantages are the power vested in the office, freedom from many normal social obligations, and high social status. The first of these social advantages is self-evident. The other two demand elaboration. The freedom from normal obligations shows itself in various ways. Thus, chiefs commonly treat as inferiors persons who would normally be superior to them. Examples are fathers-in-law, brothersin-law, and classificatory fathers. Likewise, they are exempt from participation in such communal work as millet-threshing.2 The high social status of chiefs is symbolically expressed in Unyamwezi in the custom whereby everyone of subject status must clap hands to them in greeting. It is also very clearly shown in their relations with Europeans. Chiefs are commonly the only rural Africans well known by Government officials and some of the latter will only allow chiefs, among rural Africans, in the front of their car. When a Government officer visits a chiefdom on 'safari' he will often invite the chief to have an informal beer with him in the evening. This is a privilege much more rarely bestowed upon others. Furthermore, even the chief of a small chiefdom can feel a certain brotherhood with richer and more important chiefs. This brotherhood receives recognition in the use of hand-clapping by all chiefs as a greeting to each other irrespective of their individual importance. By becoming a chief a man becomes 1

2

Chiefs had much larger numbers of wives in the nineteenth century, and figures in the region of one hundred or more are mentioned for some of them. Cf. Decle (1898, p. 348), and Thomson (1881, vol. 11, pp. 245, 257). This exemption from communal work normally applies to sub-chiefs also. Headmen, however, are not automatically exempt.

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established as a member of a higher social class and by giving up his office he tends to move outside this class.1 Such then, briefly, are the reasons for the desirability of chiefly office.* Let us now turn to the actual checks upon the chief in his relations with his subjects. Four main factors influence a chief here. First, there is the need to consult with various people in the course of his work. Then there is the fear of incurring the displeasure of Central Government. Thirdly, there is the fear that rivals for his office may arise and get support from discontented subjects. Finally, certain cases of misbehaviour by chiefs are known to have resulted in violence being used against them. I will examine each of these in turn.3 The need for a chief to consult with others

The hearing of court cases is the only occasion in the internal administration of the chiefdom when the chief is formally obliged to work in conjunction with what may be termed a 'council of elders'. The three elders of the court, together with sundry headmen, help the chief to elicit and evaluate evidence in a case and also advise him in his judgement.4 It is their recognized duty to perform these tasks and their doing so ensures that a case is properly heard and is not settled out of hand according to the whims and prejudices of the chief. The chief may occasionally override the opinions of this body of men but to do so too often would be dangerous. The hearing of court cases is a public affair and it is impossible for a chief to conflict with his headmen and court elders without its being obvious to the audience in the court. A chief who regularly flouted the opinions of his court advisers would be dealt with through one of the sanctions described later, but the fact that the court is public places him under strong pressure not to conflict 1

2

3

Barnes (1954, p. 45) uses the term 'class' to refer to a network of people who consider themselves roughly equal. I use the word in this sense here. People who might become chief and those who have been chiefs are fringe members of this higher class. There is no rigid class division in Unyamwezi as appears to exist in some of the interlacustrine kingdoms. Cf. Richards (1960a, p. 30). Some people hold that the attraction of chiefship lies in the possibility of corruption and obtaining 'perks'. It is true that some corruption is found, but it is very difficult to argue that it is general. Beattie (1959) distinguishes the first of these checks as a 'categorical norm' from the others, which he calls 'conditional norms'. He also treats admonitions to a chief upon his installation as a check of the 'categorical norm' type. Though such admonitions are no doubt intended as a check upon the chief, I have left them out of my main discussion because I am unable to weigh their efficiency and because, unlike the other checks examined, their application is limited to a single occasion. More is said about Beattie's 4 classification in chapter 9. Cf. chapter 5.

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unduly with them. The existence of this body of advisers within the recognized framework of court procedure is, then, a strong check upon the chief in the performance of one of his most important duties, namely, the just settlement of his subjects' cases. A chief also has to listen to the advice of others in his meetings with the commoners' councils which have been established fairly recently in all Nyamwezi chiefdoms.1 There is, however, an important distinction between these meetings and the situation in the courts. The meetings with the commoners' councils serve to allow the chief to explain points of policy to his subjects and to allow the subjects to express their various requirements to the chief, but the chief rarely has to reach policy decisions in their presence. This is in contrast to the situation in the courts where a chief not only has to listen to and consult with his advisers but also has to make immediate and public decisions in the light of their advice. Admittedly, if a chief regularly ignores the wishes of his commoners' councils he is liable to be dealt with by sanctions similar to those available against a chief who ignores the advice of his court advisers. The point is, however, that in the case of the commoners' councils the chief has more opportunity to manipulate the situation for his own ends. For this reason I do not consider that the commoners' councils provide as strong a check upon the power of chiefs as do his advisers in the settlement of cases. Fear of the displeasure of Central Government

The fear of the displeasure of Central Government is one of the strongest factors influencing a chief in the present context, for we saw in chapter 4 that the dismissal of a chief is largely in the hands of Government. A chief who does not treat his subjects properly may be brought to the notice of Government in any of the following ways. First, the Government through its regular review of cases and the hearing of appeals actively supervises a chief's work in his court. Dissatisfied subjects may also make complaints direct to Government officers about their chief and these complaints will be examined. Examples are complaints that a chief has refused to hear a particular court case, that a court case has dragged on for a long time without being settled, that a chief is singling out particular people to perform the less popular communal tasks, or even that a chief is too free with 1

As noted in chapter 1, the Sukuma commoner organizations of basumba batale are not indigenous to Unyamwezi. Commoners' councils, at first using the title of basumba batale, have been established under Government influence. Cf. chapter 3.

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the wives of his subjects. All these complaints have been made at one time or another, and all of them are very serious in the eyes of the people.1 As will be seen in the last section of the chapter, however, not all complaints made by commoners against their chief are given a sympathetic hearing by the Government. Less directly, subjects who are dissatisfied with their chief may deliberately make the task of governing them so difficult that the chief will begin to gain a reputation for inefficiency in the eyes of the administration. The commonest form this method takes is for the subjects to delay the payment of their taxes since in the opinion of Government the efficient collection of taxes is one of the chief's most important tasks and a chief who fails in this respect will be subject to strong criticism from them. The fear of rivals for the chief ship

If the position of chief is desirable to those who hold the office, then it is more so to those who aspire to the position. For whereas the advantages of chiefship are self-evident, the difficulties of the office are best appreciated by those who actually hold it. Even in a small chiefdom there is rarely a lack of people anxious to be chief. Thus the election for the chiefship of Busagari in 1959 was contested by seven candidates although the chiefdom only contained some four hundred taxpayers. After the election of a chief, the unsuccessful candidates often continue to covet the office and new rivals may arise in the course of time. As will be clear from chapter 4, these rivals are usually close agnates of the chief. Occasionally, however, as in Busagari chiefdom, there is also a rival family competing for the chiefship. Rivals may take advantage of the normal difficulties of a chief by making rash promises about how they would behave if they themselves were in office. Their work, however, is rendered much easier by a genuinely bad chief who mistreats his subjects through the abuse of his position. In such cases rivals may obtain a substantial following and, as I will shortly show, this may be instrumental to the collapse of the office-holder. It may also be mentioned in this context that chiefs are felt to be susceptible to witchcraft, as the stories about Mirambo's death testify, and it is believed that rivals may resort to such attacks against a chief in the pursuit of their ambitions.2 1 2

In Nyamwezi customary law, higher fines are imposed upon an adulterous chief than upon an adulterous commoner or headman. Cf. Cory (1955a, pp. 25-6). I have no record of persons who serve to divert witchcraft from a chief as among the Swazi. Cf. Kuper (1947, p. 82).

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi The fear of violence

Discontented subjects may occasionally resort to violence against a chief. If the discontent is general, then the violence may take the form of rioting. Thus there was a riot in Ngaya chiefdom in Kahama District when the chief was all but burned to death in his own house. This case is considered in some detail later in the chapter. If it is a particular subject who feels wronged by the chief, then he may decide to take justice into his own hands. Thus, in the Busangi chiefdom of Kahama District, the chief, Nsabi III, was carrying on a liaison with the wife of one of his subjects who was away at the coast. The husband's relatives wrote to him telling him what was happening and he returned from the coast at once. He proceeded to lay a trap for the chief and caught him together with his wife. He then murdered the chief with a hoe. This happened in 1940. So much, then, for these four main checks upon the power of chiefs. A factor sometimes held to be important in this context is the ability of subjects to move to another chiefdom if they are not satisfied with their present chief.1 It is rather difficult to weigh this factor in Nyamwezi political organization. Population mobility from chiefdom to chiefdom is, in fact, high in Unyamwezi. Thus it is commonly found that a large majority of homestead heads in a village were born outside the chiefdom in which their village is situated, though members of the ruling family of a village tend to be conspicuous exceptions to this rule. Moreover, it is not at all uncommon to find that a homestead head has lived in two or three different chiefdoms before settling at his present site. It seems to be comparatively rare, however, for people to move from one chiefdom to another for political reasons; and, certainly, cases of people moving for reasons of kinship, fear of witchcraft, or the desire for good land greatly outweigh those arising from dissatisfaction with a chief. Admittedly, large-scale movements out of a chiefdom for political reasons are occasionally found. Thus many people left Mhalu chiefdom during the conflicts of the interregnum there and considerable numbers moved away from Ngaya chiefdom after the rioting of 1959. In these cases, however, the movements have to be considered as reactions to extreme political upheaval in a chiefdom rather than as action taken to avoid the rule of a bad chief. Moreover, 1

Cf. Mair (1957, p. 34).

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large influxes of people into chiefdoms where the chief has a bad reputation are not unknown when the temptation of good land is strong enough. More generally, it might still be argued that the possibility of population movement from one chiefdom to another is an underlying factor determining the balance which is found in Nyamwezi chiefdoms between the rights of chiefs and those of subjects. Here one is no longer in the realm of direct and observed connexion and one can only point to logical consistencies. Yet even if we try to imagine the system of today as one where such mobility is absent, we are not led automatically to assume that subjects would therefore be without the various privileges which they now enjoy. For the checks upon the chief which were reviewed above would still possess considerable force. In the light of the above material I cannot hold the view that the possibility of population movement from one chiefdom to another acts as a major check upon the power of Nyamwezi chiefs. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that since such sanctions as appeal to Central Government have existed only for a limited period of Nyamwezi history, the ability to move from a chiefdom may in the past have been a much more valuable resource for subjects than it is today. THE POSITION OF HEADMEN AND SUB-CHIEFS

In this section I wish to examine the intermediate position which headmen and sub-chiefs hold between chiefs and their subjects. I shall deal first with the headmen. Although I shall say something later about relevant distinctions between the two grades of headman, I shall first of all consider them together as a single element ofthe political structure. There are valid reasons for this. First, it will be recalled that in many chiefdoms the present system of two-tier headmanship was created somewhat arbitrarily out of a single tier of offices. Because of this it is commonly impossible to distinguish a salaried from an unsalaried headman in terms of the kinship or other ties which exist between them and their chief.1 Secondly, while both chief and headmen may be distinguished from commoners by the positions of authority they hold, both sorts of headman have much closer relations with their subjects than chiefs are able to enjoy. Chiefs have many time-consuming duties as the representatives of their chiefdoms to the outside world and although they often try to get to know 1

For exceptions to this statement see chapter 4.

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their subjects as well as they can, they normally have too many subjects to be able to know large numbers of them really intimately. Both grades of headman, on the other hand, live in villages as active neighbours and as leaders of their fellow villagers and have a comparatively small number of subjects with many of whom they are in daily contact. Briefly it may be said that there are so many points of similarity in the interdependence between both grades of headman and their chiefs and subjects that their totally separate treatment would be an excessively repetitive task. The interdependence between chiefs and headmen

Like the chief-subject relationship in general, that between chief and headmen is, of course, an asymmetrical one in which the headmen are subordinate to the chief. An important element in the relationship is the power which the chief holds over the appointment and dismissal of his headmen. But because the rewards of their office, both financial and otherwise, are considerably less than those of chiefs, and because they have a lower status in the social hierarchy, the position of headmen is not as desirable as that of chiefs and we find quite a few cases of headmen voluntarily resigning from their office.1 Thus the threat of dismissal from a chief cannot act as strongly against a headman as does the threat of dismissal by Government against a chief. On the other hand, it has been mentioned that headmen may try to claim closer genealogical ties with chiefs than the chiefs themselves are ready to admit to. Thus we see that it is through their relationship with the chief and their participation with him in the system of government that headmen derive much of their social status. To this extent, then, it may be said that a headman is dependent upon his chief both for his position of authority and for the prestige he derives from it. Chiefs are dependent upon their headmen in a number of ways. First, and most simply, a chief needs his headmen in order to be able to exercise adequate control over the total area of his chiefdom. As one chief put the matter,' I cannot be in two places at once and my headmen are my eyes in the villages of my chiefdom.' Apart from this general function there are specific tasks of administration which it is the particular duty of headmen to perform. Thus the settling of land disputes very rarely goes beyond the level of the headmen, who are, as has been seen, the chief's agents for the distribution of land in the villages. Again, the preliminary hearings of court cases which are necessary for the efficient 1

Headmen are, for instance, not provided with free living quarters as are chiefs.

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functioning of the chief's court are carried out by the headmen. Briefly, we may say that in almost all forms ofadministration the headmen act as a fundamental link between the chief and his commoner subjects. Headmen are able to exercise various checks upon the power which the chief holds over them. First, disaffected headmen may become deliberately slack in their work and thus disrupt the efficient administration of the chiefdom. An early example of this sort of check may be seen in the dismissal of the chief of Nsalala by the Germans in 1905 for failing to collect his taxes efficiently. This failure was the result of direct opposition from his headmen. It appears that the chief used to like to go on frequent hunting trips and that after each trip he would demand that his headmen visit him, bringing the gifts which were customary on such occasions. The headmen felt that the chief was exploiting them unduly and refused to collect the annual taxes. More recently headmen have been known to hinder cattle inoculation programmes and fail to provide satisfactory work parties for public tasks as well as delaying the collection of taxes. Secondly, some headmen may become actual rivals for the chief's office and may obtain support from both commoners and other headmen. In Ngaya chiefdom in 1959 a part of the chief's difficulties were due to his failure to get on well with some of his close kinsmen who were headmen. Some of these began to see themselves as his successor and to rally support for their cause. It is of interest here that in the case quoted in chapter 4, in which people refused to let the chief depose their headman, the headman in question was one of these rivals to the chief of Ngaya. The interdependence between subjects and headmen

The basic interdependence between subjects and headmen is very similar to that obtaining between subjects and their chief. The payments made to headmen by the Native Treasury are taken out of the Native Authority taxes and are graded according to the number of taxpayers a headman has under him. Likewise subjects rely upon their headmen as much as upon their chief for the security of land tenure and the system of law and order they enjoy. Headmen also carry out occasional ritual services, in the form of ancestor sacrifices, for their subjects. The subjects of a headman have checks upon his power similar to those which they possess in their relations with their chief. Complaints about the actions of headmen may be made either to the chief or to the District Administration and may result in the dismissal of the officeholder. Thus one of the headmen of the village cluster of Kakola I in

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Uyui chiefdom was dismissed by the chief when subjects complained that he was too free with their wives. Cases of the administrative work of an unpopular headman being rendered impossible by recalcitrant subjects and cases of violence being used against such a headman are also known. A further check upon the power of headmen lies in the close contact which they have with their subjects. This means that any misbehaviour on the part of a headman is likely to be brought to the notice of all his subjects at a very early stage. It is also impossible for him to avoid discussing such matters with them. It may be pointed out here that this form of check is similar in certain ways to that which arises from the chief's need to consult with various advisory bodies in the course of his work. Because the position of headman is less desirable than that of chief, strong rivalry for the office is comparatively rare and it appears unlikely that a headman's fear of rivals should be a strong sanction against abuse of his power. Moreover, as the following case reveals, the existence of such rivalry may be disastrous for the ruling family of the village as a whole, rather than simply a danger to the headman in office. For, in this case, it was believed that rivals for the headmanship were bewitching each other and some of their subjects, and this ultimately led to the complete abandonment of the village site. .During the 1920s Igalula village in one of the Kamba chiefdoms was apparently a prosperous and well-populated settlement.1 At the time when trouble started in the village, the headman was a man called Makambi. His full brother, Malale, and his full sister, Kabula, are said to have been rivals for his office. Homestead heads in the village started to die and a number of people, including the headman, suspected that this was the work of Malale and Kabula. Makambi the headman therefore left the village, as did a large number of his subjects, though they did not all resettle in one place. Malale became headman, and Kabula and a few subjects remained with him. After a time Kabula also left the village, as did most of the remaining subjects there. Eventually Malale was left on his own in the village and he himself decided to move away. Some years later, however, when a man called Nkwabi went to live in Igalula, Malale returned there to be headman. After two or three years he invited two of his classificatory grandchildren, who were grown men, to come and join him and they accepted. After a further two years Nkwabi died, and one year later Malale himself died. Kabula was believed to be the witch and to be coveting the headmanship her1

Fictitious names are used in this account.

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self. After the death of Malale the village was once more completely deserted. In the 1940s, however, the chief invited Shija, another member of the ruling family of the village, who was living in another chiefdom, to come and be headman in Igalula. Shija accepted and came with two junior members of a spirit-possession society of which he was a leading member. After two years Shija died and divination pointed to Kabula as the witch. The village was once more deserted and remained without inhabitants at the time of my fieldwork even though the land there is extremely suitable for cultivation. Differences between the two grades of headman

Although I have treated the two grades of headman as a single element of the chiefdom structure, there are, of course, certain distinctions which need to be drawn between them. Thus, it was seen in chapter 4 that sons and personal followers of chiefs are almost always to be found as salaried headmen, and that they especially are expected to protect the interests of the chief against any sectional elements in the chiefdom. The personal followers may also help the chief to counter any competition from his sons or other rivals for his office. As such it is clear that a chief's relations with these salaried headmen are of a rather special nature. Again, there is the fact that the salaried headmen have authority over their unsalaried counterparts. This authority is, however, tempered in various ways. Just as the chief needs to have subordinate headmen posted in different parts of his chiefdom, so the salaried headman, in his smaller way, needs the co-operation of his unsalaried subordinates. Moreover, the commands which a salaried headman issues to his subordinates are far less often the result of his own initiative than is the case with the chief and the administrative orders he gives. Thus the relationship between the two grades of headman has much more of the quality of one between two fellow subordinates than has the relationship between the chief and either grade of headman. This means that there is little opportunity for a salaried headman to use his authority over unsalaried headmen to his own advantage. Connected with the authority structure, however, is the fact that an unsalaried headmanship is a less desirable office than a salaried one and voluntary resignations appear to be more frequent among unsalaried headmen. The lack of proper remuneration for the work was commonly cited by informants as a reason for these resignations.1 One might 1

Cf. chapter 4.

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suspect in these circumstances that sanctions against the abuse of power by such headmen would not unduly worry them. Two points need to be made here. The first is that an unsalaried headman has so little independent authority that opportunities for the abuse of power are comparatively rare. The distribution of land is his greatest sphere of influence but even here abuse of his position is difficult. In one case which I came across, a village headman threatened to take for himself a piece of land over which two of his subjects had been quarrelling. The matter was immediately taken before the salaried village cluster headman for settlement before the village headman had any opportunity to show whether he had seriously meant his threat or had been simply exasperated by the disputants. It may be added here, however, that village headmen do occasionally gain legitimate advantage from their position by being able to make use of good land which reverts to them for redistribution. The second point is that an unsalaried village headman is, to an even greater extent than his salaried counterpart in the village cluster, a deeply integrated member of the community which he administers. In losing his office through malpractices against his subjects he would endanger the invaluable position he holds as a respected member of his village community.1 Sub-chiefs

I use the term sub-chief here to refer to the heads of subdivisions of a chiefdom which possess their own court. It will be recalled from chapter 4 that the term is also sometimes used to designate the heads of formerly independent units irrespective of whether such units possess a court today. When such units are without a court, however, the position of their rulers is almost identical to that described above for headmen, except that in their efforts to regain their independence they may prove unusually troublesome to their chief. Taken in the sense defined above, the position of sub-chief combines features of the positions of both chiefs and salaried headmen. Like the chief the sub-chief has a court which is recognized by Central Government and which serves as a judicial and advisory centre for his subjects. He is, moreover, dependent upon his subjects for both his salary and his prestige. He has subordinate headmen of both grades beneath him and his dependence upon them for the successful administration of his sub-chiefdom resembles that described for chiefs. His authority, however, is further tempered by the fact that, like his 1

For the importance of neighbourhood ties see chapter 8.

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headmen, he too is subordinate to the chief. Relationships between chiefs and sub-chiefs bear many points of similarity to those existing between chiefs and salaried headmen although the power which the chief has over the appointment and dismissal of his headmen is less subject to external supervision from the Government.1 A further and connected difference is that as a court-holder the sub-chief tends to share the burden of the chief's work rather than to complement it. In the last section I examined the position of subordinate authorities in the chiefdom structure. I want now to consider some of the problems which face a chief in the course of his work and to say something about the different and often conflicting demands which are made upon him. From this examination there should emerge a clear picture of the pitfalls which a chief has to avoid in order to remain in office, and of the reasons why some chiefs are more successful than others in this respect. In the course of my discussion I shall use the term 'successful chief to refer simply to those chiefs who manage to avoid these pitfalls. The dual status of chiefs as the instruments of Central Government's policy, on the one hand, and as the rulers of subjects to whom they have specific obligations, on the other, has been referred to at various points in the present work. Each of the two parties in question has its own criteria according to which a chief is judged to be good or bad, and a brief statement of these criteria is relevant here. For the Government, a good chief is one who maintains law and order in his chiefdom, collects taxes early and efficiently, recognizes the sanctity of public funds, and is energetic in the implementation of public works projects such as the annual clearing of roads at the beginning of the dry season. Clearly, not all these duties are such as to make a chief a popular figure in the eyes of his subjects. Apart from the displeasure which most people feel at having to pay taxes and carry out hard manual labour for little reward, it may be pointed out that some of the restrictive laws which a chief is expected to enforce, however necessary they may be, are unpopular with his subjects. An example is the body of laws controlling the hunting of game. For the subjects, a good chief is one who is fair in court, helpful in the satisfaction of their wants, and 1 2

Cf. chapter 4. By * viability' I do not refer to the continued existence of the chiefship through time but rather to the ability of individual chiefs to stay in office.

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generous. Because of his limited resources the demand that a chief should be generous to his subjects is a constant source of trouble to him, and in more than one case the embezzlement of public funds by a chief has been due to his desire to win the favour of his subjects through lavish generosity and hospitality.1 This is not to say that Government and subjects are completely at variance in their criteria for judging a chief to be good or bad. It has already been seen that an important check upon the power of chiefs is the possibility that their subjects will complain to Government about their actions, and this arises from the fact that justice and fairness are chiefly qualities which are highly valued by both sides. But it also needs to be noted that complaints that a chief is not generous to his subjects, or that he is severe with them in his collection of taxes, are not likely to be given much weight by Government officers. Moreover, as we shall see, there are times when such officers find themselves unable to act against a chief even though they may sympathize with the complaints of his subjects. The position of a chief is further complicated by the fact that in many situations his subjects do not form a homogeneous group. Various categories of persons are important here. Thus it is necessary to distinguish between those of a chief's subjects who are his kinsfolk and those who are not. The fact that some of the former are potential successors to the chiefship means that a chief must be particularly careful in his dealings with them, lest they become active rivals for his office. Again, it is clear that the relationships between a chief and his subordinate office-holders are not all of a single sort and, further, that they differ from those which he has with ordinary commoners. It is also necessary to distinguish between those subjects who are newcomers to a chiefdom and those who are long-standing residents. The former have to be treated with special care, inasmuch as the chief knows comparatively little about them and his authority over them is not yet firmly established through regular intercourse with them. In addition, cattle-owners present particular problems for chiefs and this is recognized in the reckoning of their salaries. Finally, there is the division between those subjects who are conservative in their views and those who are interested in progress and development. It remains to add that these categories are, of course, not all mutually exclusive, since one man 1

For the importance of generosity in the past and the changes which have made it difficult today cf. chapters 2 and 5. Nyamwezi expect generosity from all persons in authority and are sometimes critical of Europeans in this respect.

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may, for instance, be a kinsman of the chief, an office-holder, a cattleowner, a long-standing resident and conservative in his views. Having set out the main facts of the position of chiefs between Government and people and having pointed out that certain types of subject pose special problems for their chiefs, we can now proceed with an examination of why some chiefs have been unable to maintain themselves in office. It may be remarked in passing that chiefship is in some ways like a game, albeit an extremely serious one, in which the chief plays against the various persons with whom he has political relationships. I mention this here simply as a convenient analogy rather than as the basis of any complex theory of chiefship with mathematical implications. If the chief succeeds in his efforts to remain in office, he may be held to have won. If, on the other hand, he makes mistakes and falls from power, we may say that he has lost. Commonly, the mistakes made by a chief are of a simple nature and prove immediately disastrous to him. Occasionally, however, a more complex situation arises which reveals some less obvious facets of the chief's position. Let us first consider the simpler cases. Of sixteen cases of unsuccessful chiefs for which I have information, thirteen fall into this class.1 Of these thirteen chiefs, eleven were deposed by Government, one was murdered and one committed suicide to avoid arrest. In five of the cases, including that of the suicide, the misappropriation of public funds was the main reason for the chief's downfall, though drunkenness and general inefficiency were sometimes involved.2 Three other cases turned upon the abuse of the chief's position as the instrument of law and order in the chiefdom. In two of them the chief aided and abetted thieves and in the third the chief was found guilty of torturing a defendant. In the remaining five cases the chief was found to have committed acts incompatible with his holding chiefly office. One chief was discovered to be keeping slaves, another harboured some escaped prisoners of war, a third engaged in a drunken brawl and was suspected of embezzlement, and two, including the one who was murdered, were found to have committed adultery 1

2

All these cases took place during British rule and there are several others for which I do not have sufficient information. It will be recalled from chapter 4 that depositions have become less frequent since 1953. The large number of cases does not seem atypical of multi-chiefdom tribes in Tanganyika. Cf. the material on the Haya, Ha and Sukuma in Richards (19600, pp. 186, 221, 246). Richards gives a useful general discussion of this situation (19600, p. 374). Fallers (1956, pp. 176-7) has noted that drunkenness and peculation are stereotyped reactions to the difficulties of office-holding in Busoga.

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with their subjects' wives. Although not all of them were formally prosecuted, they were all held to have committed breaches of the law. It is in the fact that breaches of the law are recognized as being in direct conflict with the holding of positions of authority that the simplicity of these cases lies. It is worth while noting, however, that in some of the cases the difficulties of chiefs outlined earlier in this section were important factors. Thus, a headman son of the chief who was found to be harbouring escaped prisoners of war was instrumental in his father's conviction because of his own desire to become chief and, as I have mentioned, at least some of the cases of misappropriation had their basis in the desire of chiefs to win esteem through generosity. This brings me to a further point which I may mention briefly here, that not all cases of illegal action by chiefs were equally abhorrent to both Government and subjects. This is, of course, part of the wider problem noted earlier that Government and people have somewhat different expectations concerning the behaviour of chiefs. Not surprisingly, some of the chiefs dismissed for embezzlement were extremely popular in their chiefdoms, and it is doubtful whether the subject-body were particularly concerned about the behaviour of the chief who had harboured escaped prisoners of war. Of the other three cases two need not detain us long. In one the chief was an epileptic and was removed because of this. In the other the chief seems genuinely to have disliked his work and at one time offered to retire. He was eventually dismissed for general and continuous inefficiency. The third case is of interest, however, because the downfall of the chief was the combined result of what may be considered as a series of tactical errors on his part. At no time was he guilty of breaking the law. As such his case is instructive, since all chiefs have been faced with the problems which he failed to solve, and one might be tempted to underestimate the importance of these problems had it not been demonstrated so drastically. The chief was the chief of Ngaya chiefdom in Kahama District. It needs to be pointed out that at the time of the events described relations between Government and people were particularly strained owing to the emergence of national politics in the area. I shall start with an account of what happened during the chief's last two days of active office. On 2 September 1959 an unpopular headman of the chief of Ngaya was assaulted while trying to collect the cattle-tax of a Sukuma cattle-owner. There had been strong opposition in the area to the paying of cattle-tax and although attempts to collect the tax had started in

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January only a small portion had been paid by September. The assaulted headman returned to the chief's headquarters and reported that he had been attacked. The chief immediately sent a messenger into Kahama Town to inform the District Commissioner. The District Commissioner then sent out the District inspector of police, who was an African, and three police constables in a Land-Rover to take the offender into custody for questioning. The man resisted arrest, with the aid of some of his neighbours, and the police withdrew without their prisoner. Early next morning the District Commissioner himself, accompanied by eight policemen armed with rifles, went to Ngaya to try to arrest the man. They eventually caught him and started to take him to their Land-Rover. He again resisted and the District Commissioner and the policemen found themselves surrounded by a crowd armed mainly with sticks. It was reported in court later that the District Commissioner slipped in trying to avoid a blow from a stick, and that a cry went up of'Kill the European, we'll get the others afterwards'. The situation appears to have got out of hand and the police opened fire above the heads of the crowd. When this failed to disperse them the police fired at them. The crowd then dispersed completely and the District Commissioner claims that he did not know anyone was hit since no one was left lying on the ground after the dispersal. The District Commissioner then took his policemen back to Kahama and called at the chief's headquarters on the way. He told the chief what had happened and asked him to report if anything further took place. News of these events spread quickly and one man came to the village where I was working with the story that war had broken out in Ngaya, that three Africans had been killed by the police and that the chief had given the order for the police to open fire. Further investigation revealed that in fact three men had been wounded, one seriously. The chief had been at home at the time of the shooting. Later that day the chief's house was surrounded by a large body of men and was eventually burned down with him inside it. Fortunately for him, however, the District Commissioner arrived again with some police and the crowd dispersed on their arrival. The chief was rescued and taken to hospital. From that time until six months later when I left the field he did not set foot in his chiefdom and late in i960 he abdicated from his office. Of particular interest here is the fact that the chief of Ngaya was blamed for a shooting in which he played no part, and was, moreover, the victim of violent reprisals for it. It becomes clear that the riot in which he was almost murdered was the culmination of a process in

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which discord between himself and his subjects had been developing over some time. A clue to the situation lies in the statements made above that an unpopular headman of the chief had been assaulted and that the chief immediately reported this to the District Commissioner. Let us look at these two points in greater detail. The assaulted headman was a close personal follower of the chief and had never been a popular man. The chief had installed him in office in the place of a popular headman with whom he, the chief, had quarrelled. The chief's sharp temper had in fact led to the alienation of many of his subjects, including some of his headmen and kinsfolk. It appears that by the time the riot took place about half of all his headmen were hostile to him. Some notion of the number of kinsfolk he had alienated may be obtained from the fact that only two of the many who were living in Ngaya fled the chiefdom on the day of the riot although there was a rumour afoot that all the kin of Wimo, that is the chief's late father, were to be killed. One of the chief's close relatives told me, as he passed by my camp, that the chief's house had been burned down and that he himself was on his way to get some beer! An event which took place about a year before the riot was particularly important in this chief's alienation of his subjects. It involved a headman of one of the outlying villages of the chiefdom with whom the chief had also quarrelled. This headman was an active supporter of the Tanganyika African National Union, which, at this time, was looked upon unfavourably by Government. Moreover, many of the smaller chiefs were worried about their status in the independent Tanganyika for which this party was fighting. The chief of Ngaya decided upon a course of action which he hoped would result in the crushing of his headman, the destruction of his subjects' interest in national politics, and the strengthening of his own position with Government. Thus, at a time when the position of Native Authorities in regard to the membership of political parties was most usefully undefined, he decided to define it for his own chiefdom and announced that any headman of his could join T.A.N.U. providing he realized that he would lose his office if he did so. This resulted in his being branded as a Government 'stooge' by a large number of his subjects and probably contributed to his downfall more than any other single act. By alienating himself from his subjects in this way the chief of Ngaya gave those of his kinsmen who coveted his position an opportunity to gain support for themselves as potential candidates for the chiefship, and some of them did not hesitate to attempt to widen the already

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existing gulf between the chief and his subjects. Thus one was reported as telling people that they would not be made to do communal labour, such as the cutting of grass to thatch public buildings, if he were chief, and others exploited the burdensome nature of the cattle-tax in a similar manner. Moreover, whereas other chiefs were able to use their headmen and kinsfolk as reliable intermediaries in their relationship with their commoner subjects, and were also able to discuss matters reasonably with the commoners themselves, the chief of Ngaya found himself in a spiral in which he was forced more and more to rely upon the support of the District Commissioner and other Government officers in administering his chiefdom. Time and again he was led to resolving any dispute which arose between him and his subjects by exercising his power as an agent of Central Government rather than by making use of the system of authority contained in the internal chiefdom structure. Hence his immediate reporting of the assault upon his headman to the District Commissioner is not to be considered as an isolated act so much as the last of a series of similar acts forced upon him by his bad relations with his subjects. In this way we may see that his being branded as a 'stooge' of Government turned him, in fact, into one. The support which the chief of Ngaya sought from Government during this difficult period was regularly given to him, though this was not because the administration thought him to be a good chief. The opposite opinion was in fact held by every administrative officer I met in the area, for he was both illiterate and inefficient in the performance of his duties. As has been mentioned, however, the rules concerning the dismissal of a chief are laid down in the African Chiefs Ordinance of 1953, and general inefficiency and unpopularity alone do not appear to be sufficient cause for the removal of a chief.1 The people of Ngaya made several deputations to the District Commissioner asking for the dismissal of their chief on the grounds that he was harsh and unpopular. The District Commissioner could only tell them that if they could bring specific charges and evidence to substantiate them, then he would support a removal of the chief from office. In spite of this comparatively sympathetic attitude, however, the administration was forced to give support to the chief as long as he remained in office. This was felt to be all the more necessary when the difficulties the chief encountered were concerned with taxes and the unwelcome emergence of T.A.N.U. Another important point in the downfall of this chief was his relationship with recent immigrants into his chiefdom. Many of the 1

Cf. chapter 4.

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people who refused to pay cattle-tax in Ngaya were Sukuma herdsmen who were comparative newcomers to the chiefdom and to Kahama District itself. The amount of Sukuma immigration into Ngaya in recent years is revealed in Table 14. The figures are taken from the official censuses for the years quoted. Table 14. Sukuma immigration into Ngaya, 1948-1957

Year

Total population of Ngaya

Number of Sukuma in Ngaya

Percentage of Sukuma

1948 1957

6,214 7,077

1,186 2,695

19 38

Most of these immigrants had come to Ngaya because there was good grazing in the northern parts of the chiefdom and also because, in contrast to Sukumaland, there was no policy of cattle-culling in Kahama District. On the other hand a large number of them had come from Districts in which there was no cattle-tax.1 The chief was unable to handle these Sukuma immigrants for two main reasons. In the first place their fight against the cattle-tax received the support of other people in Ngaya, some of whom owned no cattle at all, simply because the tax was a useful focus of opposition to the chief. This fact became clear the next year when cattle-tax as such was abolished and a graded tax took its place. This was charged at a comparatively high minimum rate to make up for the loss caused by the abolition of cattle-tax and at this point not a few of those who had demanded the abolition of cattletax began to lobby, albeit half-heartedly, for its return. In the second place the chief had failed to make any real effort to incorporate the newcomers as citizens of his chiefdom. He very rarely visited the outlying parts of his chiefdom where they were situated and some of the people of those areas had never even seen him! In these circumstances it was hardly surprising that they should feel little loyalty to him as their chief. To sum up the situation, we may say that the downfall of the chief of Ngaya was due to his committing three major errors, the results of which combined to make his position as chief untenable. The first of 1

Where large herds of cattle are involved, a cattle-tax of three shillings per head does in fact become a cull since the large amount of tax to be paid can only be raised through the sale of cattle. In Ngaya chiefdom in 1959 there were, according to Veterinary Department figures, some 61 cattle-owners with herds over 100 head. Five of these owners had herds exceeding 300 head.

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these was to alienate many of the people upon whom his successful rule as chief depended. Another was to arouse the hostility of many of his subjects by aligning himself too closely with Central Government. Finally, there was his failure to make a strong effort to incorporate the immigrant element of his subjects into his chiefdom. Let us now consider how other, more successful chiefs have handled the problems which the chief of Ngaya failed to solve.1 Successful Nyamwezi chiefs are fully aware of their dependence upon different, and at times conflicting, groups of people and they realize that to quarrel with them is detrimental to their position. For this reason such chiefs will go to great lengths in order to avoid giving or taking offence. The former leads to the alienation of the person or group offended, and the latter may lead a chief into taking precipitate action at a point when careful timing and clear-headedness are essential. This last point was put rather neatly to me by the chief of Busangi chiefdom. Criticizing the quick temper of the neighbouring chief of Ngaya, he said,' If a man wishes to annoy me, then he will say something which he hopes will arouse my anger. Since the purpose of his words is simply to anger me it would be stupid of me to take offence at them. Therefore I wait and eventually I find out why he wishes to annoy me. Then I can act.' The chief of Busangi was in fact extremely tactful in his relations with both Government and his subjects, and he was always careful not to give offence. The following example of his behaviour towards his subjects is revealing in this respect. We have already seen that there exists a law which states that, if a person leaves land fallow for a period of more than three years, he is liable to be deprived of the land. In one village a man who had cleared an area of bush for himself had left some of the land fallow for more than three years, and when some newcomers came to live in the village the headman distributed his fallow land to them. The man complained to the chief about this. The chief told him that as other land was in fact available he would not be deprived of these fields but warned him that the headman had acted within the law. He then went on to say that if the land remained fallow for another three years then he would have to review the situation ! When I asked him in conversation why he had not said that the land would be taken in another three years or even before, if it was 1

Fallers (1956, pp. 202-3) discusses how chiefs face their particular problems in Busoga. Unlike their Nyamwezi counterparts, however, Soga chiefs may be transferred to rule another chiefdom, and this seems to be important in their case.

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needed, he expressed horror at the notion that he might be guilty of so strong a statement. Even on occasions when a chief has just cause to be angry, his evaluation of the points at issue may lead him to control his feelings. Thus the chief of Uyui was offended when some of his subjects who had a land dispute with a Chinese settler in the chiefdom did not consult him about the matter but took it to the District Officer and also to their local branch of the Tanganyika African National Union. He accompanied the District Officer to the disputed site and arrangements were made for the case to be settled in his court. Before leaving he addressed his subjects in Kinyamwezi. He asked them whether or not he was their chief, and whether or not such disputes were normally his province. In a firm but calm manner he appealed to their sense of reason and their knowledge of custom. The District Officer, who knew little or no Kinyamwezi and was anxious to return to Tabora, interrupted him and said in Swahili that they should go since he had made it clear to his subjects by now that he was angry with them. This failure to understand his position upset the chief, who insisted that he was not angry and had to go over all the points of his speech again before he was satisfied that his subjects understood this. We have seen that the emergence of the Tanganyika African National Union aggravated the difficulties of the position of chiefs as intermediaries between Government and people. Unlike the chief of Ngaya, most chiefs were convinced that the only solution to their problem was a firm but tactful refusal to take sides. Many of them came under strong pressure to join T.A.N.U. or at least to give it help and it was not easy to avoid succumbing to these demands. Various tactics were employed by chiefs in this situation. Thus, on one occasion when he was pressed to join the party, one chief told his subjects, 'I am a man of in-between and cannot take sides. But you make too much fuss about the holding of membership cards. Look at my face. Its colour tells you I am no kinsman of the Europeans. My face is my membership card.' While some relied on their powers of argument to tide over this difficult period, others made equally strong use of their powers of timing. Thus one chief told me how the local branch of T.A.N.U. had made a plausible demand for his help which, in the interests of neutrality, he did not wish to give. He allowed their representatives to visit him on several occasions, entertained them well but never gave them an opportunity to present him with a full account of their request. Eventually a hoped-for dispute arose between two of the local party

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officials. He immediately allowed them to state their demands to him, and told them that he found it difficult to help them when they were divided among themselves. I have argued that the third major error of the chief of Ngaya was his failure to incorporate the Sukuma immigrants into his chiefdom. The behaviour of the chief of Busangi, who faced a similar immigrant problem, is of interest here. This chief insisted upon making frequent trips to visit the Sukuma cattle-owners of his chiefdom and got to know many of them well. When he met them he was able to converse knowledgeably with them about their families and other matters of interest to them. In some villages he even allowed them to choose their own headmen from among themselves.1 In these ways he made every effort to ensure that they should not become a source of trouble to him and it is fair to say that they never became the disruptive element in his chiefdom which they were in Ngaya. Thus, although the Sukuma cattle-owners of Busangi were also opposed to paying cattle-tax, the chief of Busangi was rather more successful than his neighbour in collecting it and there was no threat of violence over the matter in his chiefdom. Moreover, it is clear that much of the difficulty of collecting the tax in Busangi was due to the breakdown of collection in Ngaya, where many people refused to pay unless the chief was deposed. In general, the more successful chiefs are all firm believers in the value of regular travel throughout their chiefdoms, and they devote a great deal of time to this activity. One other point deserves mention here before drawing this section to a close. This is that the chief of Ngaya regularly performed the rituals which were expected of him by the more conservative elements of his chiefdom. He felt, ironically enough, that to do so was important for a chief who wished to remain in office. Although several chiefs agreed with him on this point, it is interesting to note that the chief of Busangi only rarely performed ritual services for his subjects and limited these to those services in which his own participation was minimal. Thus he was willing to hire a diviner to prepare medicine for keeping birds off his subjects' crops, but he was quite unwilling to perform either firstfruit ceremonies or ancestor sacrifices, and he refused to join any of the secret societies such as the Baswezi.2 Although some of his subjects 1 2

Cf. chapter 4. The chief of Busangi was to some extent influenced in this by Christianity, though he was not a fully practising Christian. He described his position as follows: * I am a Christian but I have one quarrel with the church and that is my second wife. As a chief I need her to entertain my guests.'

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were grieved by his attitude, they were never able to bring really strong pressure to bear upon him, and his behaviour seems to show that the performance of chiefly rituals is comparatively less important today than it was in the past. For their performance did not ultimately aid the chief of Ngaya, and the chiefof Busangi did not suffer unduly for ignoring them. It cannot be denied, however, that a chief who neglects the performance of his ritual duties does thereby lay himself open to criticism from a section of the subject body and that rivals for his office may try to exploit this. This point is clearly made in the following extract from a text on the difficulties of chiefship collected from an ex-chief who had ruled during the 1940s. The chief in question had been educated at Tabora School and was a Christian. He was deposed for suspected embezzlement. The text is translated from Swahili. A ruler has great difficulty in getting his subjects to follow the laws which are in force and give up the laws of the past. This is very difficult since these latter laws are inherited. Many of a chief's kinsmen do not like him because they are jealous of him since each of them was hoping previously to rule himself. They are often a cause of trouble in the administration of the people and may deceive the people into disregarding the law. This is particularly so when trouble occurs in the chiefdom such as shortage of rain, attacks by wild animals, disease and the like. It is very hard for a ruler who does not follow traditional customs such as sacrificing to the ancestors and preparing the beer of thefirst-fruitceremony and so on. In such a case some of the subjects and headmen who place great weight upon the customs of the past dislike the chief because their interests in traditional custom are ignored. And when there is misfortune such as famine, lack of rain, insects eating the crops, marauding beasts, or disease, these people say that the misfortune results from ignoring the customs of the past. Then they start to look for a way of deposing the chief and replacing him with someone who will follow tradition. Often there is a kinsman of the chief who assures these people that if he is made chief he will follow the customs of his ancestors, even those which are contrary to the beneficial laws which are now in force. I will now sum up the results of this section. We have seen that a chief is subject to various pressures in the course of his work, and that these may be of importance even in cases where he appears to have been dismissed for simple breaches of the law. On the other hand, a chief who fails to understand the complex nature of his position may bring about his own downfall without breaking the law at all. The case of the chief of Ngaya has been dealt with at some length because it demonstrates this point very clearly and serves to justify the care with

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which more successful chiefs treat the various sets of persons with whom they have political relations. It has been seen that other chiefs not only behave differently from the chief of Ngaya, but are also extremely conscious of the difficulties of their role and the way in which they must be met. Successful chiefs are in fact keen students of the actions of their fellow rulers and are anxious to learn from their mistakes. Thus, at the time of the Ngaya crisis, the chief of Busangi, in spite of the fact that he had good relations with his kinsfolk, none the less decided to hold regular and formal meetings with them. He was anxious to avoid at all costs that the events of Ngaya should take place in Busangi. Chiefs are also interested in the behaviour of their fellows from another point of view. We have seen that the chief of Busangi himself experienced some difficulty in administration as an overflow from the troubles in Ngaya. The more successful chiefs are always afraid that the mistakes of others may lead to a generalized dissatisfaction with the chiefship on the part of subjects, and they are well aware that this could make their difficult position quite untenable. At a meeting of Nyamwezi chiefs in November 1959, a discussion was held about the troubles at Ngaya and this point was made strongly there. That the fear was not irrational was seen in a neighbouring region shortly before I left the field when the central position of the chiefship in the Native Authority system was abolished throughout the Geita District of Sukumaland. This was done at the demand of the subject-body, whose earliest complaint had been directed only at a minority of chiefs in the District. CONCLUSION

The aim of the present chapter has been to analyse the checks and balances which exist between various persons in the chiefdom hierarchy and also to examine some of the difficulties which surround the office of chief. I have tried to show that Nyamwezi chiefdom structure is an intricate and delicately balanced arrangement of interdependent parts, which an incautious chief can easily upset to his own disadvantage. My discussion of these topics brings my account of the hierarchical structure of the chiefdom to a close. I now wish to turn to a secondary principle of Nyamwezi political organization, that of neighbourhood. For in parts of Unyamwezi the set of relationships which exists between neighbours also provides a structural framework for political action. In the next chapter I will examine the way in which neighbourhood, in its political functions, works in conjunction, and at times in conflict, with the chiefdom system.

8 NEIGHBOURHOOD AND POLITICS INTRODUCTORY

The existence of a distinctive set of neighbourhood relationships was noted in chapter i. The Nyamwezi word for 'neighbours' is bazenganwa, which has its root in the verb kuzenga meaning 'to build'. It is a passive part of an associative reciprocal form of the verb and may be roughly translated as 'those who are built for by each other'. It is common to hear a man refer to his neighbours as bazenganwa bichane, or ' my fellow neighbours', rather than as bazenganwa bane, which means simply 'my neighbours'. Thus people themselves highlight the reciprocity implied in the term and emphasize the fact that neighbours cooperate with one another. Co-operation between neighbours is found all over Unyamwezi, but it is most marked in Kahama District, and the material presented in this chapter is mainly concerned with that District. Some comparison is made with other parts of Unyamwezi later in the chapter.1 Within the village all are neighbours and it is only when two villages are sited on a single piece of higher ground that neighbourhood cooperation regularly extends beyond the boundaries of a single village. The situation is, however, complicated by two further factors. First, for certain tasks such as the threshing of bulrush millet the people often find it more convenient to limit the co-operating group to local subdivisions of a village. These are created simply because the village as a whole would be too large a unit for the efficient performance of the task in hand. They do not coincide with formerly separate units and they are in no sense kinship groupings. Secondly, the obligations of neighbourhood relationships may be temporarily extended to embrace members of quite distinct villages. Thus, if a person passes by a village in which a group of neighbours are co-operating, it is his duty to stop for a while and help them with their task. Neighbours co-operate in a wide range of activities.* They form cultivation and threshing teams which do work in rotation for their 1 2

See Cory (1954, pp. 63-86) for an account of traditional neighbourhood organization in Sukumaland with some comments on the modern situation there. For a fuller account of these activities see Abrahams (1965). r 158 ]

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individual members, and they also help each other in the building of their houses. They participate in each other's ceremonies and rituals and often have important functions to perform in these. Most important in the present context, however, is their co-operation in the settlement of disputes through a system of informal courts. I want now to turn to an examination of this system and an analysis of its relationship to the court machinery of the chiefdom hierarchy. NEIGHBOURHOOD COURTS

Neighbourhood courts of village elders, mabanza ga banamhala, are a traditional Nyamwezi institution. Although it is well known that they exist, they are not recognized by Central Government. They are, in fact, technically illegal but the Government tends to turn a blind eye on them providing their activities do not appear to be subversive. These courts are much less formal than the Government-recognized chiefdom courts.1 It may indeed be felt that the term 'court' is a misnomer for such informal gatherings as I describe. The people themselves, however, use the same word ibanza, plural mabanza, both for these courts and for the chiefdom courts and I have thought it reasonable to follow them in this.2 Neighbourhood courts do not meet at any regular time and they possess no regular staff except in the general sense that their participants are men who are usually homestead heads from a single village. The courts vary in size depending on how convenient it is for villagers to attend and how much interest they have in the matter to be settled. The court is held to be valid so long as it is felt that a sufficient number of mature men with a knowledge of traditional custom are present. No particular individual has the right to pronounce judgement but anyone who wants to may state his views and a decision is reached when nobody has any further points to make. The courts have no special meeting-place nor are there any formal seating arrangements. People merely sit in a circle. Usually there are not enough stools to go round and many people sit upon the ground. Once again there are no formal arrangements as to who sits on a stool. 1

2

See chapter 5 for an account of chiefdom court procedure. It should be pointed out that these informal courts are not the same as the preliminary hearings of chiefdom court cases before a headman. These, too, are informal but, in contrast to the elders' courts, the headman is the key figure in their proceedings, which do not include the award of compensation to or the imposition of fines upon the parties to a case. The word 'court' has many uses in English besides its formal legal one. Beattie (i960, p. 67) and Cory (1954, p. 67) use the term 'court' to describe institutions closely comparable to those under discussion here.

i6o

Political Organization ofUnyamwezi

This is decided on an individual basis, some people giving up their stools to others whom they personally feel to be their seniors. A second and important contrast with the chiefdom courts lies in the form of penalty exacted. The guilty person is fined but the fine is normally in kind, a chicken or a goat for example. If the parties to the dispute are from the same village the fine is consumed by both their neighbours and themselves. A person committing an offence in another village is referred to his own neighbours, and it is they rather than the people from the offended village who will normally eat the fine.1 In certain cases, however, the offender may also have to pay some compensation to the offended person or persons for his offence. Such fines and compensation are known as masumule. Penalties imposed in chiefdom courts are not called by this name. The word is connected with a verb kusumula which means to commit an offence liable to such a penalty.2 The verb seems basically to mean to unsew something which has been sewn up, presumably a social relationship in this case. There is a range of fines starting at an arrowhead, or usually at the sixpence which one needs to buy one, and passing through chickens, beer, goats and sheep, to a bull. If monetary fines are charged they are kept until there is sufficient cash to buy something to eat or drink. The severity of the fine depends upon two main factors, the first being the importance of the fault. Thus when a group of neighbours had decided to hunt down wild pigs which were causing damage to their crops it was argued that anyone who failed to join the hunt should be fined a goat. It was felt that a chicken was an insufficient penalty to guarantee attendance and that it was most important to do this. The second factor is the social and economic status of the offender. Thus if a headman insults somebody he may well be fined a bull instead of the usual goat and if a diviner commits a ritual error at a public ceremony he is fined more heavily than an ordinary person. In all these cases it is felt that, in virtue of their position, the offenders have a special responsibility not to commit offences of this sort. Again, if a man who has 1 2

This is not to say that outsiders may not join in the consumption of fines. It is only an offender's neighbours, however, who are specifically informed of the date of a feast. These words kusumula and masumule are also used in some extra-neighbourhood contexts. A person who offends a kinsman or affme may occasionally agree to pay some compensation without a neighbourhood hearing and the offence and payment are described by these words. Again, I have heard the term masumule used for a fine which the ritual elders of a chiefdom demanded from someone who mislaid regalia which they alone could replace.

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been fined a goat pleads that he is too poor to pay, his neighbours mayagree to lower the fine to one of beer. The only sanction which neighbours can employ to enforce their decisions in these courts is to ostracize an individual who refuses to comply with their demands.1 The state of being ostracized by one's neighbours is called bubiti. This is an abstract noun connected with the Nyamwezi word mbiti, meaning a hyena, and could perhaps be translated by the term 'hyenahood'. The hyena represents all that is anti-social in Nyamwezi thought. It is dirty, nocturnal in its habits, and usually seen alone. It lives in the bush, which is always contrasted with settled country, has a predilection for the flesh of corpses, and is said to be a familiar of witches. A person upon whom bubiti is imposed becomes socially isolated from his fellow villagers. They will not visit him or provide him with fire, food or water. He may expect no help from them in any of the many tasks in which he normally relies on their co-operation. Traditionally, when neighbours ostracized a man they took him to their headman and said, ' This is your man, we no longer know him', thus formally distinguishing between his roles as citizen and as neighbour and stating that their ties of neighbourhood with him were severed. This is no longer done today; but a headman knows when one of his subjects has been ostracized, and in his official capacity he is, unlike other villagers, allowed to visit an ostracized person. The sanction of ostracism is extremely strong and I have not heard of a man withstanding it for long. Its effectiveness is clear witness to the importance of neighbourhood co-operation in the everyday lives of the people.2 I want now to consider the sorts of cases normally dealt with by these courts and also the division of court labour which exists between the neighbourhood and chiefdom systems. I shall compare cases heard by neighbourhood courts in the Kahama region with those heard by the chief's court in Busangi chiefdom in Kahama District in 1958. It is impossible to list all the types of cases heard by chiefdom courts in the area, and to deal with all the cases heard by one court in a single year is, within the limits of my data, the nearest I can come to an unbiased sample of such cases. As mentioned in chapter 5, 103 cases were heard 1 a

For accounts of ostracism in Sukumaland see Cory (1954, p. 85) and Tanner (1955, pp. 161-5). Tanner (1955, p. 164) gives an interesting case where a particularly rich and powerful Sukuma individual was apparently capable of withstanding ostracism. Northern Unyamwezi is a poorer area than Sukumaland and I did not come across such cases there.

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that year in the chiefdom court, which serves a population of 4,711 according to the 1957 census. The nature of these cases is summarized in Tables 15 (a) and 15 (b). Table 15 (a). Criminal cases, Busangi chiefdom court, 1958, Total 38 (1) Offences directly against the state* (a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f)

Breach of Native Authority tax laws Breach of Native Authority court procedure Breach of Native Authority husbandry laws Breach of Native Authority marketing laws Breach of Native Authority registration laws Disorderly behaviour in a public place

17 4 10 4 1 1 37 (62%)

(2) Offences against persons (a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f)

Adultery Theft, fraud, and intention of such Infecting a person with venereal disease Running into a person on a bicycle Assault Verbal abuse

8 6 1 2 2 2 21 (38%)

* Unlike the official distinction between 'criminal' and 'civil' cases, that made here between offences directly against the state and those against persons is my own.

Table 15 (b). Civil cases, Busangi chiefdom court, 1958. Total 45 (a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f)

Suing Suing Suing Suing Suing Suing

for for for for for for

inheritance divorce or restitution of conjugal rights bridewealth repayment of debt custody of children compensation for crops damaged by cattle

7 12 10 8 3 5 45

Many of the neighbourhood cases on which my account is based also took place in Busangi chiefdom, though not necessarily in 1958. The numbers and informal character of the neighbourhood courts make it impossible to present useful numerical data on the cases dealt with by them. Nor are such cases easily classified. It is, however, possible to distinguish the following broad categories of cases which are normally heard by neighbours, though some cases could be fitted reasonably into more than one of them.

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Types of cases normally dealt with by neighbourhood courts in the Kahatna area (a) Failure to fulfil the obligations of neighbourhood relationships. (b) Failure to help temporarily in the communal activities of other villages. (c) Commission of errors at communal rituals. (d) Assault, threatened assault, verbal abuse and disrespect. The first of these categories contains a wide variety of cases. They include failures to participate in communal tasks such as house-building and millet-threshing, failures to take news of the death of a neighbour to his relatives outside the village, and failures to refrain from cultivation for two days after a death in the village. Two other cases which came to my notice may also be included in this category. One was a case of incest between genealogically distant kin who lived in the same village. The case was settled by a neighbours' court which included some kinsfolk of the parties. The parties belonged to the ruling family of the village. When someone asked early in the proceedings whether the case was not one simply for the kinsfolk of the parties he was told that neighbours were also affected. It was decided that the male offender, a young man, was primarily responsible and he was fined a goat which was to be eaten by the neighbours of the parties. The second case was one in which a man, on grounds of poverty, refused to entertain his chief in his homestead when the chief was visiting the village. After the chief's departure the man's neighbours fined him a goat and argued that he should have asked them for help. In both these cases neighbours clearly felt that the behaviour of the offender involved an offence against them and I include the cases in this category for this reason. The second category consists of such cases as the failure of a passer-by to help in communal activities such as millet threshing or funerals. The third category consists of ritual errors which a person may commit at such events as an ancestor sacrifice, a funeral, or a ceremony to purify a village after a death. They include walking upright at certain rituals, instead of moving in a low squatting position, and wearing a hat at some of them. The rituals themselves all involve gatherings of neighbours and the offences are felt to affect the ritual well-being of these gatherings. The offences included in the last category of cases are mostly self-explanatory. They are not necessarily committed between neighbours. In some cases comparative strangers may be involved and in others the offended parties may be kinsfolk or affmes. It is typically in

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relations between affines of proximal generations that cases of disrespect are to be found. Relations between such persons are ideally extremely formal and reserved, and any show of familiarity or any indecorous behaviour on the part of one in the presence of the other is considered disrespectful. The above material points to the existence of a well-defined division of jurisdiction between the two court systems since, according to the data, the only cases dealt with by both sorts of court are those of abuse and assault. My information upon other chiefdom court cases and statements collected from the people tend to confirm this picture. I should point out, however, that cases of threatened assault and disrespect are also brought before the chiefdom courts and only the less serious cases of assault are dealt with by both sorts of court. The more serious cases are only heard by chiefdom and Central Government courts, and the most serious are dealt with only by the latter. In terms of this division of jurisdiction, the two court systems may be said to complement each other. I want now to look more closely at this situation in order to try to understand the 'logic' of the form which this complementarity takes.11 shall first consider those cases which are only heard by one of the court systems and I shall then examine those where either system may be used. I will begin with cases which are only heard by neighbours' courts. One relevant factor here appears to be that all these cases involve threats to neighbourly solidarity and co-operation in its simple or extended form. This is especially clear in cases where a person fails to join in communal work or to fulfil his other obligations as a neighbour. Errors made at communal rituals have a rather less direct effect through their endangering the ritual well-being of the neighbourhood group. It may be further noted that the form of penalty exacted by the neighbours' courts appears to be well suited to the handling of such cases. I have mentioned that a person whose offence is dealt with by his neighbours normally pays a fine in kind which he consumes together with his neighbours. This procedure serves the function of reintegrating the offender into his community and this is clearly of importance when a major feature of an offence is the threat it constitutes to communal action and group solidarity. Beattie has emphasized the importance of 1

What follows is an elaboration rather than an explanation of the situation. It may be noted that Beattie (1957fr,p. 191) reports a greater degree of overlap in the sorts of cases dealt with by Nyoro neighbourhood and chiefdom courts.

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this reintegrative aspect of neighbourhood court organization in his accounts of similar Nyoro practices.1 Cases heard only by neighbours' courts thus constitute a threat to neighbourhood co-operation. This is, however, true of other cases, such as adultery between neighbours, which can be heard only by chiefdom courts. Further factors are clearly involved in this situation. Turning to the cases which are dealt with only by the chiefdom courts, we may note that 62 per cent of the criminal cases heard by the Busangi court arose from simple offences against the state. As such it is reasonable that they should be prosecuted through the state machinery. A number of other points seem relevant in criminal cases where offences against persons were committed. One is the comparatively serious nature of these cases. In many of them, such as those of theft and of adultery, the injured party has suffered an infringement of his 'rights in rem9 held over property or persons.* In cases of infection with venereal disease, or those of running into someone with a bicycle, considerable damage to the person has been done. This, of course, applies by definition in more serious cases of assault. A second and partly connected point is that the settlement of such cases poses certain technical problems which only the chiefdom courts can deal with. The accused may have to be arrested, his guilt or innocence must be established, and it may be necessary to enforce the judgement of the court. As part of a territory-wide system of Native Authorities the chiefdom courts are able to obtain the arrest of an accused person even in another chiefdom, they can subpoena witnesses wherever they may be, and they also have the power to obtain search warrants. They possess a staff of clerks and messengers to carry out such work. Again the chiefdom courts have all the time they need to elicit and evaluate sufficient evidence for the settling of a difficult case. The authority vested in the chief and his deputy allows them to pronounce respected verdicts which can be enforced, if necessary, with all the strength of Central Government. 1

2

Beattie (19576, pp. 194-5). Gibbs (1963) has paid particular attention to the psychological implications of comparable procedures. It should, however, be mentioned that the Nyamwezi system of fining and feasting is something more than a mechanism for repairing breaches in village harmony. Reasons for imposing new fines are eagerly sought and disputed at feasts, and to this extent the system may also be considered as a self-perpetuating one for the distribution and consumption of wealth within a village. I use 'rights in rem' as defined by Radcliffe-Brown (1952, p. 33). The people themselves consider adultery as a type of theft. A similar attitude is recorded for the Soga by Fallers (1956, p. 118).

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi

Similar arguments apply to civil cases. All of these concern attempts by individuals to establish 'rights in rent' over persons or property. This is true even in cases of divorce since these normally only come to court when the return of bridewealth payments is involved. In civil cases either the rights at issue are in doubt or one of the parties, though acknowledging the other's rights, fails to respect them in his actions. The successful handling of such cases clearly demands a system in which evidence can be obtained and weighed and the decision of the court can be enforced.1 This discussion brings out the contrast between the formal organization of the chiefdom court system and the ad hoc nature of the neighbourhood courts with their informality and lack of any specialized officials. It is significant in this respect that there is never any doubt in neighbourhood court cases that the accused has done what he is charged with having done.2 Similarly, it may be noted that cases in which 'rights in tern are in dispute are normally not dealt with by these courts. I come now to the cases which are dealt with by both sorts of court. Such overlapping of the two court systems might at first appear to be inconsistent with the clear division of jurisdiction which I have described, but this is not really the case. Certain types of inter-personal offence, such as those involved here, may be equally disruptive of many sets of relationships, and provided that such offences are not too serious, and given that the facts are not in doubt, both sorts of court appear to be suitable for dealing with them. In cases of this sort it is up to the offended person to bring charges and he may choose to take the case before whichever court he wishes. Various considerations influence his choice and herein lies another aspect of the overall complementarity of the two court systems. If the main aim of the offended person is the punishment of the offender, perhaps at the cost of breaking their relationship, he will take the case before the chiefdom court. If, on the other hand, he values his relationship with the offender, yet wishes for some form of satisfaction, he will take the case before the neighbours' court. Sometimes a man will threaten to take such a case before the chiefdom court, and the offender, fearing the severity of the verdict and desiring reconciliation with the 1

2

It may be recalled from chapter 5 that the need for witnesses in divorce cases was one of the reasons why such cases were not dealt with in the rainy season when people were busy with their agricultural work. Cory (1954, p. 85) reports a similar situation for Sukumaland. What may be in doubt, however, is whether the offender had just cause for acting as he did.

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other person, will beg him to relent and let his neighbours deal with it.1 Such a plea always involves an admission of guilt which makes it easy for the neighbourhood court to settle the case. Thus cases dealt with only by the chiefdom court exhibit one or more of the following features: First, they may arise from direct offences against the state. Secondly, they may arise from more serious offences against persons. Thirdly, they may arise from disputes over 'rights in rem\ Fourthly, they may require a specialized and powerful organization for their successful settlement. Cases dealt with only by neighbours' courts do not possess these qualities. In addition, they may be said to spring from threats to neighbourly relations. Finally, where no technical difficulties exist, inter-personal offences of a general relevance may be dealt with by either sort of court. The two court systems complement each other both in the division of jurisdiction which exists between them and in the different ways in which they handle similar cases.2 CONFLICT BETWEEN NEIGHBOURHOOD AND CHIEFDOM ORGANIZATION

Complementarity of the sort described above is typical of the normal relationship between neighbourhood and chiefdom citizenship. In 1958 and 1959, however, neighbourhood and chiefdom organization came into conflict with each other and this conflict forms the subject of the present section. A fundamental feature of the situation was the link which arose at this time between the Tanganyika African National Union and the groups of neighbours who co-operate each year to thresh each other's bulrush millet, and I shall commence with a discussion of this link. Widespread cultivation of bulrush millet as a major staple is confined to northern Unyamwezi and the communal threshing of the crop by groups of neighbours is apparently found only in that part of the country.3 This threshing is both the longest and the most intensive of 1 2

3

Beattie (1957 b, p. 194) reports similar behaviour among the Nyoro. Gulliver (1963, part iv) presents an excellent account of the complementarity of chiefdom courts and different types of informal courts, including parish assemblies, among the Arusha. Both Beattie (1957fc,p. 195) and Gibbs (1963, p. 10) also stress the complementary nature of informal and chiefdom courts, and there is comparable material in Bohannan (1957, ch. ix and passim). Although some bulrush millet is grown in other parts of Unyamwezi, there are usually insufficient numbers of producers for the threshing to be organized communally. In these areas the grower has to hire threshers. In Geita District in Sukumaland, where bulrush millet is also popular, threshing is done by hired lorry but, owing to cotton

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the tasks which neighbours do together. Solidarity between neighbours is at its peak at threshing time and the task may fairly be described as the cornerstone of the whole complex of neighbourhood activities in the area. Each group of neighbours takes about a month to finish its own round of threshing and during this period the group regularly works and eats together.1 People are, however, involved in threshing for a rather longer period than this. First, various preparations for the work have to be made. The crop has to be reaped, the threshing-places must be cleared, wooden platforms for the millet have to be constructed, and wooden forks, threshing-sticks, and brooms have to be fashioned. Secondly, the different groups begin to thresh at slightly different times and people often help temporarily with the work of other groups. All told, people are occupied with threshing for at least two months, from early June till early August, a considerable period of time. As has been mentioned, the threshing groups are usually convenient subdivisions of a village. Each group has a leader called ntemi wa busiga, which means 'millet chief'.2 Each millet chief is chosen by the members of his group, and any homestead head is theoretically eligible for the office, though I have never known a headman hold it. This lack of overlap between the millet chiefs and headmen was due partly to the conflict described in this section and partly to the fact that headmen need occasionally to be excused from threshing because of their duties. Because of a tendency to choose long-standing inhabitants as millet chiefs, however, some holders of the office were members of the ruling families of their villages. The millet chief co-ordinates the activities of his threshing group and acts as its representative to the outside world. The office is of recent origin. It is said to have been first instituted about 1950 as a result of a particularly heavy crop of millet which necessitated a more formal organization of threshing. At first the office was found only here and there, but by 1959 there was a millet chief in every threshing group. This was not, however, simply due to the exigencies of threshing. It was largely because the office had become politically important.

1 a

production, there is much more cash there than in Kahama District. The pounding of bulrush millet with mortar and pestle does not seem to be found in the Nyamwezi area. See Abrahams (1965, pp. 174-7) for a fuller account of this and other aspects of milletthreshing in the area. The title ntemi basically refers to the chief of a chiefdom. Its adoption by co-operative groups and secret societies is common in Unyamwezi. Cf. Cory (1954, p. 73) for an account of similar custom in Sukumaland.

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The Tanganyika African National Union began to gain a foothold in northern Unyamwezi in 1959, and almost from the start it was connected with neighbourhood organization.1 In some villages people who refused to join the party were fined and ostracized by their neighbours. By the summer of 1959 it was strongly supported and well established throughout the area. In that year the millet chiefs began to act as unofficial local representatives of the party and their threshing groups were in effect its smallest branches.2 News of party events was passed on to the people through the millet chiefs and persons who failed to attend party meetings started to be fined by their fellow group members. Speeches in support of T.A.N.U. were prefaced with the rallying cry of 'People of the threshing-stick! People of the fork! People of the broom! \ so that the very implements of threshing became associated with the party. Through this participation of the threshing groups in the struggle for self-government, neighbourhood organization took on a new meaning for the people. It began to stand for their identity as African subjects of an alien power and it was mobilized to deal with any matter which was felt to involve their rights or dignity as such subjects. For the first time fines were imposed by the threshing groups on Indian shopkeepers who insulted local Africans, and if the Indian refused to pay his shop was boycotted. In one case of this sort an African ignored the boycott and was fined two goats by his neighbours. This came to the notice of Central Government and several of the people who had formed the court which fined the African were prosecuted and convicted on a charge of arrogating to themselves the powers of a legal court. People flocked into Kahama Town to hear the case and money was collected through the millet chiefs to cover the cost of the fines and an appeal to Dar es Salaam.3 In prosecuting cases of this sort the Central Government was clearly moved by a desire to protect the rights of citizens to trade where and when they wished.4 But it was also disturbed by the fact that an 1 3

4

Cory (1954, p. 94) shrewdly foresaw the possibility of such a connexion for Sukuma2 land. The smallest official branches usually covered one or two chiefdoms. The appeal was in fact won on the grounds that no legal court existed with the power to charge a person who had broken such a boycott. As a result of this case, Central Government began to regret its policy of tacitly tolerating, rather than openly defining and recognizing, the activities of neighbourhood courts. It is doubtful whether this 'protection' was always desired by the 'protected'. In the case in question the victim apparently paid his fine quite willingly and the case only came to Government's notice because a police patrol happened upon the feast at which the fines were being consumed.

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Political Organization ofUnyamwezi

alternative administrative system was arising in which the part of Central Government was being played by T.A.N.U. and that of the chiefdom hierarchy by neighbourhood organization. One aspect of this situation was the way in which T.A.N.U. cleverly encouraged the use of the titles D.C. and P.C. T.A.N.U. to refer to their District and Provincial Chairmen. The Native Authority chiefs and their subordinates were also worried by the situation. The millet groups and neighbourhood courts were embarking on activities which the Central Government refused to tolerate, and this brought the Native Authorities, the authorized upholders of law and order, into troublesome conflict with the subjectbody. Moreover, neighbourhood organization was beginning to engage in direct competition with the Native Authorities. Thus some neighbourhood courts arrogated to themselves the right to hear adultery cases, though it was recognized that these cases were the special province of the chiefdom courts.1 Again, in many chiefdoms the people followed the instructions of their millet chiefs more readily than those of their village headmen. Some chiefs felt this as an insult to themselves since the headmen were their personal representatives in the village. Others tried to make the best of things and communicate with their subjects through the millet chiefs but this only made the headmen angry. Although this conflict between neighbourhood and chiefdom organization was, at its peak, a bitter one, it was of only short duration. One reason for this was that the necessity of granting early self-government had been acknowledged on all sides by i960, and so the circumstances which had engendered the conflict ceased to exist. It is worth noting also, however, that the millet-threshing groups were not wholly satisfactory as a basis for wide-scale political organization. This became apparent towards the end of the 1959 dry season when it began to prove impossible to get people to go into Kahama Town for meetings. Eventually so many people failed to go on these occasions that the imposition of neighbourhood sanctions on defaulters was abandoned as meaningless. Various factors were involved in this situation. First, it was found difficult to organize the activities of so many small groups, and though people talked about creating a more formal organization by establishing a supreme millet chief in every chiefdom, nothing was in fact done about this. Secondly, the status of the millet chiefs vis-a-vis their group members was not yet fully defined and 1

In a case where members of a neighbours' court were charged with hearing an adultery case, the accused readily admitted that it was wrong to hear such cases.

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institutionalized. Although they were accepted as co-ordinators of their groups' activities, different views existed about the exact scope of their powers and responsibilities.1 They never achieved any position of authority in the settlement of court cases, and their influence in other spheres began to wane once the period of threshing was over.2 As one of them complained, after an unsuccessful attempt to persuade his group to help improve local water supplies, ' When the millet has been beaten, we are stripped of our regalia.' It should perhaps be added that the man was speaking metaphorically, since millet chiefs do not possess insignia of office. Under such conditions, it was easy to make excessive demands upon the solidarity of the neighbourhood groups. The journey into Kahama was a long one for many people and sometimes it was necessary for them to stay overnight and return home next day.3 Due to the lack of proper organization, however, no arrangements were made to feed or accommodate those who came and, in the absence of a formally constituted authority, there were no sanctions whose severity outweighed the troubles of the journey. This account of some of the limitations of millet-threshing groups as a basis for wide-scale political activity brings the present section to a close. In this section I have dealt at some length with a temporary conflict between neighbourhood and chiefdom organization. I have done this partly for the sake of completeness and partly for the insight which the conflict affords into the political potentialities of neighbourhood relationships. CONCLUSION

The purpose of this chapter has been to describe the political functions of neighbourhood organization in northern Unyamwezi. For the most part I have concentrated on the way in which neighbourhood and the chiefdom hierarchy complement each other, and I have illustrated this with an analysis of the work of the neighbourhood courts. In this analysis, however, I also noted that neighbourhood and chiefdom 1

In one amusing case a threshing group suggested that it was the duty of their millet chief to * show his chiefship' by providing a bull for a feast, an idea for which he was unable to share their enthusiasm. % Government at first tried to hold millet chiefs responsible for neighbourhood court actions but eventually realized that it was unjust to do so. 3 People living more than about fifteen miles out of town were not in fact expected to come in on such occasions. It was those who lived just near enough to go who suffered most.

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi

organization slightly overlapped in their functions and I then showed that they were capable of conflict with each other under special circumstances. The task remains of briefly comparing the situation which I have described with that obtaining in those parts of Unyamwezi, such as the area around Tabora, where neighbourhood organization is comparatively weakly developed.1 There labour is often hired to do some of the tasks which neighbours do together in the north, though an important exception is the joint participation of neighbours in local funerals. Other tasks are performed through the chiefdom hierarchy. Consistent with this is a rarity of neighbourhood court hearings in these parts. Neighbours sometimes settle cases of abuse between kinsfolk or affmes but they do not enforce their decisions with ostracism. Similar cases between neighbours seem always to be dealt with by the chiefdom courts. Should a person not participate in local funerals, the only sanction applied against him is apparently a similar refusal by his neighbours to help him to bury his own dead. Lastly, we may note that opposition to the chiefs and Central Government in 1958 and 1959 was less forceful in these parts than in the north. This cannot be explained simply in terms of regional variation in their popularity. Rather it was because the opposition to them could be expressed through the welldeveloped medium of neighbourhood organization in the north whereas no comparable system existed to hand in other parts of the country. That neighbourhood plays a part in the political organization of northern Unyamwezi is clear from the material presented in this chapter. It should be stressed, however, that this part is limited in two ways. First, I have shown that neighbourhood organization has important weaknesses as a medium for wide-scale political activity. Secondly, and consistent with this, it has normally been concerned only with the internal aspects of political organization, that is, with the maintenance of social order and co-operation. As such, the political role of neighbourhood must, in spite of its importance, be considered secondary to that of the chiefdom system, which possesses neither of these limitations. 1

My first-hand experience of such parts is mainly limited to this area around Tabora and my account refers particularly to the situation there. Discussion with informants seems to indicate its wider validity, although some variation may no doubt be found from one place to another.

CONCLUSIONS The main body of this study has been devoted to a detailed discussion of the political organization of Unyamwezi. In this final chapter I want to consider some of the points in my account which seem to be of comparative or theoretical interest. The Nyamwezi are a multi-chiefdom tribe. Such tribes are common in East Africa and especially in Tanganyika, where, in addition to the Nyamwezi and Sukuma, we find such well-known peoples as the Ha, Haya, Zinza, and Nyakyusa.1 Richards has pointed out that such tribes pose particular problems for a Central Government mainly because of the small size of their traditionally autonomous political units.2 The efforts of the British to create a small number of larger chiefdoms and to link these into federations are ample testimony to the existence of these problems in the Nyamwezi area.3 Yet, although these multi-chiefdom peoples share the common feature of being subdivided into a number of comparatively small and mutually independent chiefdoms, the proliferation of these chiefdoms has not followed the same pattern in all cases. Admittedly there is in all their histories an initial period in which a number of ruling dynasties of diverse origins are established. This preliminary settlement, however, is followed by distinctive types of chiefdom fission.4 A short comparison will illustrate this point. Among the Ha, outlying parts of the chiefdom were given over to the care of sons or brothers of the chief and it appears to have been common for these men to establish themselves as independent rulers by secession.^ A similar situation was found among the Haya and the Zinza.6 Haya chiefdoms also split as a result of warfare between 1

2 4

5

The political organization of each of these peoples has been the subject of comparatively recent study and publication. References are given in the course of my discussion. There are, of course, many other multi-chiefdom tribes in Tanganyika, including several bordering on the Nyamwezi. 3 Richards (1960*1, p. 355). Cf. chapter 3. Richards (1960a, p. 348) tentatively suggests a single pattern for the East African area but my own material does not conform to this and, as is noted below, I am not entirely satisfied with the Sukuma material which was available to her on this point. 6 Richards (1960a, p. 215). Richards (1960a, pp. 181, 197). [ 173 ]

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi

prospective successors to the chiefship.1 Among the Zinza, however, chiefs are said to have divided up their chiefdoms among their sons.2 This is reminiscent of the highly formalized Nyakyusa system. There, by a series of legal and ceremonial acts known as 'the coming out', the chiefdom was divided each generation into two or sometimes more units. The new chiefdoms so formed were ruled by sons of the old chief who is said normally to have died soon afterwards. This division was accompanied by expansion into formerly unoccupied territory.3 These processes of proliferation contrast with that described for the part of Unyamwezi for which I have most adequate information on this topic, namely, theKamba chiefdoms. In chapter 2 it was described how Nkumbi, the chief of the ancient chiefdom of Bukamba, found that his chiefdom had become too large for efficient administration. He divided it, therefore, among his sisters' sons, who thus became chiefs in their own right. He retained part of the chiefdom for himself and this continued as a single unit until the coming of the Germans. There is, as far as I can tell, no history of chiefdoms splitting through secession in this area, though we do hear of division following disputes over the succession to the chiefship. In such cases the chiefdom was divided between two possible matrilineal successors who were supported by rival greater headmen. Divisions of this sort, however, seem to be confined to the middle and later period of the nineteenth century and most of them were only temporary. The differences between these processes of proliferation seem to spring from differences in the internal structure of the chiefdom concerned. Among the Haya, Ha, and Zinza there was patrilineal succession to the chiefship. Moreover, the possible successors to the chiefship,' the princes of the blood', as Richards calls them, were given territorial office.4 This served the function of diverting their attention from the chiefship, but it did not prevent them from thinking of themselves as independent chiefs and it gave them opportunity to realize this ambition. Chiefdom fission among these peoples was but one aspect of the more general problem of controlling 'princes of the blood'. This problem was, of course, well known throughout the interlacustrine area, and it may be noted that the secession of Toro from Bunyoro in the last century closely parallels some Haya, Ha and Zinza cases.5 1 3 5

a Richards (1960a, pp. 178, 216). Richards (1960a, pp. 34, 197). 4 Wilson (1951, pp. 278-9, 282). Richards (1960a, p. 348). Cf. Richards (1960a, pp. 132, 348 and passim). Schapera (1956, pp. 157 ff., 165 fF.) discusses similar problems in South Africa and Richards (1961) gives a comparative survey of approaches to these problems in different parts of Africa.

Conclusions

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The Nyakyusa system is of interest in this context, for it served the function of allowing a relatively large number of princes to enjoy political autonomy. By formally incorporating fission into their political constitution, the Nyakyusa appear to have successfully, though perhaps fortuitously, made a virtue out of something which in many other systems is a fault. As Monica Wilson puts it, 'the fissiparous tendencies of a chiefdom are made explicit and canalized in constitutional form by the division of the old chief's country into two and, again, ' . . . the installation of the young chiefs before the death of their father serves to mitigate conflicts over the succession'.1 The reported existence of a comparable system among the Zinza, where it would clearly alleviate some of the conflicts which were inherent in the political structure, adds weight to this point. Returning to the Kamba chiefdoms, we see that the splitting up of Bukamba by the chief among his sisters' sons fits well with the division of labour between patrilineal and matrilineal lines which I have described for that region. Since chiefship was felt to be the prerogative of the matrilineal line, one would expect the new chiefdoms to be held by sisters' sons. Moreover, chiefship had to be given to these sisters' sons rather than taken by them. For, since they held no territorial office other than the chiefship, their secession was impossible. Secession of the greater headmen as independent chiefs could only be accomplished in conjunction with a major change in the political constitution and this, as we have seen, eventually took place. Before this change headmen could only express their political aspirations through the support of a particular matrilineal candidate for the chiefship.* This division of labour between the patrilineal and matrilineal royal lines in Nyamwezi Kamba chiefdoms seems to have been connected with a further difFerence between their traditional political structure and that of chiefdoms of the interlacustrine group of tribes. A common characteristic of the political organization of these tribes is the holding of territorial office by personal followers of the ruler. These personal 1 2

Wilson (1959, pp. 217, 218). It would be interesting to compare all this with the situation in the traditionally patrilineal chiefdoms of Unyamwezi, but unfortunately I do not possess the necessary material. I must confess that material on the matrilineal chiefdoms of Sukumaland rather differs from my own. It is, however, not entirely satisfactory. Thus Liebenow (i960, pp. 233-4) ascribes proliferation to the secession of unspecified 'subordinate officials'. More specifically, Malcolm (1953, p. 25) states that outlying parts of chiefdoms were given to the sons of chiefs and these parts became independent units. Both the structure of these new units and the period when independence was established are left vague, however, and his account is not completely self-consistent.

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Political Organization of Unyamwezi

followers or 'clients' served to counterbalance the power of the princes and local hereditary office-holders in the chiefdom.1 The material which I collected makes no reference to the existence of such office-holders in the earliest period of Kamba history, and this would seem to be consistent with the relative absence of grounds for political competition between the chiefs of this period and their royal headmen, who, of course, included their own sons. Liebenow has recognized the importance of the similar lack of competition in the matrilineal chiefdoms of Sukumaland, and Richards has discussed the implications of this sort of system in more general terms.2 It is of interest also that, in contrast to these early Kamba chiefs, nineteenthcentury rulers of chiefdoms in which matrilineal succession had been given up are said to have appointed personal associates to territorial office. These appointees were known as banachalo or bagulansi? Nowadays, moreover, such appointments are found throughout Unyamwezi. In the modern system, as in the patrilineal chiefdoms of the nineteenth century, chiefs' sons are not completely reliable since they may covet the position of their father. It should, however, be added that the contrast I have drawn here between matrilineal and patrilineal chiefdoms is perhaps an oversimple one. In a tantalizingly brief reference, which unfortunately only came to my notice some time after the completion of my fieldwork, Desoignies tells us that office-holders known as banachalo were once to be found in all districts of Nsalala ' at the time when the chief still possessed effective power'. 4 The existence of such a time and situation is hard to envisage in the light of my own material from Nsalala, though it may well have existed in some of the more southerly Kamba chiefdoms where the chiefs themselves appear to have gained considerable power during the nineteenth century. However this may be, it seems clear that the appointment of such men could have served as a counterbalance, though not necessarily a successful one, to the growing power of the patrilineal Kamba headmen in the nineteenth century and to their desire to control the chiefship even though they could not hold the office themselves. Recent publications on East Africa have also paid attention to the role of'clients' as personal attendants of their lord.5 In Unyamwezi the banyikulu or 'men of the chief's court' are of importance in this 1 2 3 5

Cf. Richards (1960a, pp. 16, 34-5 and passim). Liebenow (i960, p. 235) and Richards (1961, p. 144). 4 Cf. chapter 4. Desoignies (1903, p. 277). Cf. Mair (1962, pp. 114, 169 and passim) and Richards (1960a, p. 348 and passim).

Conclusions

177

context since they act as personal advisers to the chief, and formed his bodyguard in the traditional political system. There are, however, two difficulties involved in describing these men as clients of the chief First, their allegiance to the chief was and still is partly to him as an office-holder rather than an individual. Their role in maintaining the continuity of the chiefship has been analysed in some detail in chapter 6, and it will be recalled that it was their duty to strangle an ailing chief in the past. In this sense they might almost be described as clients of the chiefship rather than of the chief himself. Secondly, there is a definitional problem. In a recent article about the institution in East Africa, Mair has defined clientship as 'a relationship of dependence not based upon kinship, and formally entered into by an act of deliberate choice'.1 The emphasis here is upon the mode of recruitment to the relationship but logically there is no reason why a status should be attainable through only one mode of recruitment. Empirically, moreover, the Nyamwezi do not appear to distinguish terminologically between men who voluntarily attached themselves to a ruler, by splitting open his drums for instance, and those who became slaves as a result of their capture in war. Both sorts of men were called nsese, a term usually translated as 'slave', and both sorts became banyikulu.21 Following Mair, we would call some of these people clients and others not, despite the fact that their status was the same. A similar distinction would need to be drawn also in the case of Mbati described in chapter 4. This man was captured in war and became the favourite slave of the chief of Ntobo. Eventually he was given a headmanship by his master and, in spite of his enslavement, his position was quite similar to that of any client headman. It is also doubtful, however, whether other personal followers of Nyamwezi chiefs can be called 'clients' in accordance with Mair's definition even when they are not of slave status or descent. First, it was noted in chapter 4 that headmen who are personal followers of chiefs often express their relationship in kinship terms, so that the contrast which Mair makes between clientship and kinship is not strongly drawn.3 Secondly, there is no formal entry into the relationship such as has been described by Maquet 1 2

3

Mair (1961, p . 315). It may be noted that the position of domestic and royal slaves in Unyamwezi appears to have been much less oppressive than that of victims of the external slave trade. Cf. Grant (1864, p. 78 and passim). Cf. the case of the salaried headman in Uyui who describes himself as son of the chief despite the distance of the actual relationship between them.

178

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

for Ruanda.1 Clearly, if clientship is to be defined so narrowly, some general term such as 'personal follower' should be used to cover it and similar relationships irrespective of the methods of recruitment to them. All this is riot to say that the distinctions made by Mair are unimportant, for broad definitions may easily lead to false analogies between political systems and institutions. The need for refined categories in the present context has been shown in two recent examinations, by Chilver and Maquet, of similarities which the study of clientship has suggested may exist between East African states and those of feudal Europe.2 Chilver discusses the question in relation to the interlacustrine kingdoms and comes to the general conclusion that comparison is possible at the level of individual institutions rather than whole systems and that, even so, the Bantu institutions have their own character which may be distorted through excessive abstraction for the sake of comparison.3 Maquet bases his definition of feudality upon the existence of personal ties of protection on the one hand and service and allegiance on the other, and on this basis he is able to describe the political organization of Ruanda as partly feudal.4 He finds himself unable, however, to apply the term 'feudal' to the political organization of the Soga states of Uganda.^ He writes, 'It seems to me that the allegiance of a chief to the person who has appointed him to his office is that of every official to his superiors and it is very different from the allegiance which is born from the request for personal protection and the promise of service. If we follow Fallers the number of "vassals" of the president of a modern state would be quite considerable.'6This argument applies equally well to the Nyamwezi situation, where the appointment of personal followers to territorial office is, as I have mentioned, unaccompanied by any formal entry into a patron-client or lord-vassal relationship. It seems more fruitful to consider such appointments from a functional point of view. In this light they appear as one of several sources of the power of a Nyamwezi chief. The dependence of the chief upon his personal followers and other headmen has been considered in chapter 7. Again, in chapter 4 we saw that the power of the chief to control appointments to territorial offices within his chiefdom is both jealously 1 2 3 4 5

Maquet (1961a, pp. 129-35). Chilver (i960) and Macquet (1961&). Cf. also Richards (1960a, pp. 34-5). Chilver (i960, pp. 391-2). She suggests that there may be a greater similarity between the interlacustrine states and pre-feudal Europe. Maquet (19616, p. 302). 6 Maquet (1961&, p. 306). Maquet (19616, p. 306).

Conclusions

179

guarded and, at times, disputed, and this clearly testifies to its political importance. It is worth while here to summarize the other sources of chiefly power though it is difficult to weigh them one against another. First, there are the historical charters to royal office. As was seen in chapter 6, these include genealogical evidence of the royal origins of the chief and they are supported by the possession ofmaterial symbols of the chiefship. Now, although it is the ideal for a chief rightfully to possess genuine links with his predecessors, this ideal has not always been realized either today or in the past. Thus it was the actual rather than the rightful possession of the regalia of chiefship which was said to have made possible the installation of the first Kamba chief. More recently, moreover, the position of the Kamba chief of Ngogwa has not been affected by the fact that his father was a greater headman and his regalia have been obtained from a private source instead of from Busangi, which is the ritual centre of the Kamba chiefdoms. Again, the Sagari chief Mashimba, discussed in chapter 6, is a successful ruler despite the tenuous link between him and the earlier chiefs of his chiefdom. Nonetheless, such charters are important. It is clearly significant that the early Kamba and the present chief of Ngogwa were interested in the acquisition of regalia and that the Sagari chief discussed above does claim direct descent from his predecessors. Again, as was noted in chapter 2, even Mirambo used to claim to be a member of the longstanding Sagari dynasty. These charters are in fact a medium through which power is legitimized and consolidated in the region, and the need for such legitimization is strongly felt. The installation ceremonies perform a similar function since they are accepted by all as a necessary preliminary to the taking up of chiefly office. By passing through the hardships, rituals and admonitions of these ceremonies, the successor to the chiefship undergoes a 'rite de passage', after which he is no longer merely one of several eligible nobles. He is the chief and all men are his children. Now although possession of historical charters and passage through the installation ceremonies are basic requisites for wielding chiefly power in Unyamwezi, they are not sufficient in themselves to guarantee its retention and it is, of course, precisely in this that a chief relies upon the help of personal followers and other headmen. A number of other factors are also involved here. First, it was seen in chapter 7 that there is a mutual interdependence between chiefs and subjects in which the latter are dependent on the

180

Political Organization ofUnyamwezi

chief for various ritual, administrative and judicial services. I noted that although his ritual functions were the most important in the past, it is the administrative and judicial services of the chief which are most highly valued today. The satisfactory provision of these services is essential if a chief desires to remain in office. I also pointed out, however, that the position of the chief inUnyamwezi is difficult because he is the focal point of various conflicting interests. A fundamental problem here is, of course, his intercalary status between his people and the Central Government. It appears that the chief is more dependent upon Central Government than upon any other element in his political environment. Government support is necessary for his accession to office and if his subjects prove particularly troublesome Government will normally help him to deal wth them. Moreover Government alone possesses the right to depose him. Yet, notwithstanding this dependence, the case of the chief of Ngaya clearly shows that it is useless for a chief to rely solely upon Government at the cost of alienating from himself important persons and groups within his chiefdom. If a chief cannot be everybody's friend he must at least be careful not to be their enemy, and I have shown that more successful chiefs take great pains to avoid this contingency. The above discussion of the sources of the power of a Nyamwezi chief brings us to the closely related subject of the checks which exist against his abuse of that power. The presence of such checks and the form they take are important matters from a comparative point of view and this has been recognized by a number of recent writers. Some, such as Schapera, have concentrated upon the presentation of comparative factual material upon the topic.1 Others, such as Beattie and Maquet, have approached the question more theoretically and have attempted to refine the concepts involved in its discussion.2 Let us first consider the results of these attempts. Both Beattie and Maquet offer some classification of checks. Beattie's classification is the more detailed. He points out that he is only interested in social, institutionalized and indigenous checks and he divides these into two main types.3 The first of these he labels 'categorical norms'. These are normative institutions conformity with which prevents abuse of power, and he gives as an example the need for a ruler to consult with an advisory body before embarking on administrative 1 2

Schapera (1956, pp. 55 fF., 143 fF., 150 ff., 175 ff.). Mair (1962) also presents considerable information on this topic. 3 Beattie (1959) and Maquet (19616). Beattie (i959, PP- 97, 102).

Conclusions

181

action.1 The second type of check he calls 'conditional norms'. These become effective when an established norm is breached.2 They serve a dual function of prevention through the threat that they will be brought into action should abuse occur and of correction if a breach is actually committed.3 Two points may be made here. First, I do not feel that it is necessary to exclude restraints imposed from outside by a foreign power. Beattie's aim here was apparently to show that checks against abuse of power existed in traditional African states prior to European colonization, and, to this extent, external restraints were not relevant to his discussion. External restraints are, however, often structurally similar to those imposed upon a subordinate authority by an indigenous ruler. One may note, for instance, the similarity between the appeals to a higher internal authority to depose one of his subordinates, which Beattie cites, and the appeals made by Nyamwezi subjects to the Central Government to depose a chief. Moreover, to ignore such external restraints may well make it impossible to understand a modern African chiefdom, since a lack of internal checks may be balanced by the presence of external ones. This is certainly the case in Unyamwezi, where the Government is the major organ for dealing with abuses of royal power. The second point concerns the absence in Beattie's article of a clear distinction between certain sorts of sanctions. Thus he tabulates as 'more or less institutionalized' conditional norms such diverse sanctions as the imposition of a fine upon a chief by a council and the revolt of a chief's subjects or subordinate authorities.4 Admittedly, both of these sanctions may be institutionalized in that they are both in a sense established and recognized features of the societies in which they occur. This is, moreover, the sense which Beattie himself ascribes to the term 'institutionalized'.5 The fact, however, that the first is constitutional and dejure, and the second merely regular and de facto, seems important. In fact, the balance between these two sorts of sanction may be a definitive characteristic of the power structure in a particular society. It may be added that in describing sanctions as de facto I do not wish to imply that they are not customary. Rather, I want to emphasize that they are not formally built into the political constitution, as would be a court for dealing with a chief's offences. There is about them something 1

2

3

4

Beattie (1959, p. 102). Beattie (1959, p. 103). 5 Beattie (1959, P- 97).

Beattie (1959, p. 103). Beattie (1959, p. 105).

182

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

of the quality of self-help or a customary lynch law, in contrast to sanctions which involve an official judicial authority. This distinction has been clearly seen by Maquet, who discusses it in connexion with the definition of despotic rule. For him such rule exists when the power of the rulers is not limited.1 He qualifies this statement, however, by admitting that all power is in a sense limited since secession and revolt are almost always possible.2 He therefore proposes the following criterion. 'Are there', he asks, 'any institutionalized means (moyens institutionalises), any prearranged mechanisms (mecanismes prevus) through which the ruled can avoid suffering serious hardship at the hands of the rulers?'3 Applying this criterion to the traditional Soga states, he comes to the conclusion that they were in fact despotic, despite the fact that flight and rebellion were common ways of dealing with unpopular rulers.4 He argues that it would be different if rebellion was an institutionalized mechanism (tnecanisme institutionalise) and not merely a contingent factor (conjoncturelle) but he finds himself unable to affirm that this was so.5 It is the distinction between Maquet's and Beattie's uses of the term 'institutionalized' which concerns me here rather than the correctness of either use. Maquet distinguishes between two sorts ofsanction which Beattie subsumes under a single heading, and he makes the difference between them into a critical variable which for him separates despotic rule from other types of government. Unfortunately, however, his discussion also seems to leave us with the strong term 'despotism' covering too wide a range of political forms. For the term 'despotism' has connotations in ordinary usage which appear to me to make it quite unsuitable for the characterization of states in which de facto sanctions against the abuse of power are readily available, efficient, and well understood.6 In fact, such systems can be less despotic, in the ordinary sense, than others which are without such sanctions and which possess only weak constitutional restraints upon their rulers. Let us look at Nyamwezi chiefship in the light of this discussion of checks and sanctions. Although my material on this topic is weak for 1 2 4 6

Maquet (1961&, p. 301). 3 Maquet (19616, p. 302). Maquet (1961b, p. 302). 5 Maquet (1961&, p. 306). Maquet (1961b, pp. 305-6). Cf. The Concise Oxford Dictionary (1964), i.e. * Despot: absolute ruler... tyrant, oppressor' and * Despotism: arbitrary rule; state under a despot'. 'Despotisme' has similar connotations in French (cf. Harrap's French-English dictionary). This criticism of too extensive a use of the term * despotism' applies much more strongly to Murdock (1959, pp. 32-9).

Conclusions

183

historical periods, I will try to say a little about these before turning to the modern situation. First, it may be noted that in the traditional system in which the chief was primarily a ritual figure, the problem of checks on his power would scarcely arise. Moreover, the greater headmen and the ritual officers were doubtless able to deal with any attempt upon the part of chiefs to abuse what little power they possessed.1 The problem would become important only with the secularization of the chiefship which began in the last century. Then it appears that restraints upon the power of chiefs were largely of a de facto nature, with flight perhaps the main resource for the maltreated, though they probably also gave support to rivals for the chief's position.2 The chiefs, however, were dependent on their subjects for prestige, tribute and military support, and it seems unlikely that they would be easily tempted to risk the loss of these benefits. Similar arguments apply to the greater headmen of the nineteenth-century Kamba chiefdoms. As in the case of the Soga, this phase of Nyamwezi political organization would be classed by Maquet as 'despotic'. Today, the internal organization of Nyamwezi chiefdoms is still notably lacking in formally institutionalized checks upon the power of chiefs. Admittedly, there are such 'categorical norms' as the necessity of passing through the installation ceremonies with their admonitions and the need to consult with court elders and with commoners' councils. There is, however, an absence of what we have called constitutional, as opposed to de facto, sanctions against misbehaviour by a chief. Constitutional sanctions are provided from outside by the Central Government, and the chief may be said to be legally responsible to his subjects only in so far as he is legally responsible to Central Government, which defends his subjects' interests. This defence is, as we have seen, not always readily available to the subject-body, who may resort to such de facto sanctions as the support of rivals, the refusal to pay taxes, and occasionally even violence. The efficacy of these de facto sanctions is not in question here. I am merely interested to point out their preponderance over constitutional sanctions in Nyamwezi chiefdom organization. The employment of chiefs as the agents of Central Government has been partly responsible for the above situation, for the Government has 1 2

Cf. chapter 2. An important difference between this area and Sukumaland is the existence of the powerful basumba batale commoner associations in that region. Cf. Liebenow (i960, pp. 237-8), and also chapter 1.

184

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

not been keen to share its power over chiefs with other bodies.1 A further point, however, is that the chiefdom system has had so often to adapt to new external and internal pressures. Thus the opening of the country by the Arabs, the growing strength of the greater headmen, the coming of the Germans, the First World War, the establishment of British rule, and, latterly, the development of national politics have each in turn exerted a strong influence upon the system. As such it may perhaps be argued that the system hardly has had time for the creation of powerful constitutional restraints upon its rulers. Also consistent with this demand for constant adaptation is the failure of Nyamwezi political organization to form a perfectly well integrated whole. Here I am referring to such features as the mixture of the ritual with the secular, the co-existence of the hereditary principle with the popular election of a chiefly candidate suitable to Government, the possession by the subjects of the right to elect without the right to depose, and the recent conflict between neighbourhood and chiefdom organization. All these are intelligible only in a context of uneven change and the emergence of strong sectional interests. The above reference to the relationships between neighbourhood and chiefdom organization brings me to my final subject of discussion. Although the chiefdom structure with its hierarchy of offices provides the basic framework for political organization throughout Unyamwezi, I have pointed out that neighbourhood relationships play a political role in the northern parts of the country. This fits well with Nyamwezi social organization in general, which is built upon the complementarity of different sets of relationships with the possibility of the occasional substitution of one set for another.2 The sharing of political functions, however, and the concomitant division of political power pose particular problems, and the conflict which arose between neighbourhood and chiefdom organization in 1958 and 1959 was symptomatic of these. It appears that if such sharing is to function smoothly, the domains of the participating systems must be clearly defined and the question of where ultimate authority is vested must be unequivocally settled. Ordinarily Nyamwezi chiefs are recognized as the supreme authority within their chiefdoms. But with the rise of T.A.N.U. as a rival force to Central Government the 1

Cf. chapters 3 and 4 on the tightening of Government control over the deposition of chiefs and also chapter 7 on popular attempts to remove the chief of Ngaya by legitimate means. Liebenow (i960, pp. 253-6) gives an account of a similar situation in 3 Sukumaland. Cf. chapter 1.

Conclusions

185

situation changed. Neighbourhood organization became connected with the party and neighbourhood leaders were thrown up. Neighbourhood began to compete with chiefdom organization rather than to complement it, and the result was the disruption rather than the maintenance of order and co-operation in the area. It was also seen, however, that neighbourhood organization was in many ways an inadequate substitute for the chiefdom hierarchy as a medium for wide-scale political organization. Thus it was mentioned that the neighbourhood system lacked any well-developed framework for co-ordination beyond the village level, and it was also noted how this and the absence of specialized staff made it unsuitable for handling a large variety of important court cases. Nyamwezi neighbourhood organization is, as the name itself implies, parochial in scale, and neighbourhood relationships combine to form what is essentially a social system in the sense of a system of generalized, multi-purposive relationships, in contrast to a relatively specialized political machine such as the chiefdom hierarchy. This contrast between Nyamwezi neighbourhood and chiefdom organization is, of course, in many respects similar to the well-known general distinction drawn by Tonnies and later sociologists between Gemeinschaft (community including neighbourhood grouping) and Gesellschaft (association including the state as one of its manifestations).1 Beattie has made a similar observation for Bunyoro.2 In Unyamwezi the distinction is perhaps most clearly to be seen in the differing penalties exacted by the neighbourhood and chiefdom courts, and also in the sanctions which are available to them for the enforcement of their decisions. On the one hand, we have the chiefdom with its relatively impersonal system of monetary fines and imprisonment, and with its court decisions backed if necessary by the full power of Central Government. On the other hand, we have the communal feasts exacted from offenders by their neighbours, and we find that court decisions are supported by the threat of ostracism from the social life of the village community. As was pointed out in chapter 8, these two systems have significantly different and, in certain situations, diametrically opposed implications for the maintenance of social relations between offended and offending parties. This discussion of neighbourhood and chiefdom organization brings the present work to a close. My main interest has been the description 1 2

Tonnies (1955, pp. 49, 251 and passim). Cf. also Parsons (1937, pp. 686-94). Beattie (i960, pp. 8-9 and passim).

186

Political Organization of Unyamwezi

and analysis of the political system obtaining at the time of my fieldwork. In December 1961 Tanganyika became an independent country and some of the changes which have taken place since then have been referred to in the preface to this work. Powerful attempts are being made to weaken the position of chiefs in favour of more democratic forms of government and it is expected that the chiefdom system will eventually be fully replaced by these. Tanganyika is not a wealthy country, however, and with relatively poor communications it requires a large number of efficient local court-holders and administrators. It will not be easy in this situation to dispense completely with the services of chiefs, who are the most experienced and probably the least expensive labour force available for the performance of such work.

APPENDIX A LIST OF CHIEFDOMS IN UNYAMWEZI AT THE TIME OF FIELDWORK Nzega District Busongo Karitu Mwakarunde Mwangoye

Ndala Nyawa Puge Unyambiyu

Tabora District

Ugunda Ulyankulu Unyanyembe Uyowa Uyui

Bukumbi Busagari Ibili Karunde Kiwere Ngulu Kahama District

Ngaya Ngogwa Ukamba Ukune Ushetu Uyogo

Bulungwa Busangi Kahama Lunguya Masumbwe Mpunze

[ 187 ]

APPENDIX B NYAMWEZI KINSHIP TERMINOLOGY i

Nyamwezi kinship terminology (reference terms, male Ego) AG

K

6H

OH AG

AJ OJ AJ OJ AKOK

A, Dada (Uso = your father, Ise = his or F, Sengi her father) G, Guku B, Mayu (Noko = your mother, Nina = H, Mama his or her mother) I, Myala (sibling terms are sometimes used) C, Nkulu if senior, Nzuna ifjunior, to Ego J, Mwana D, Ilumbu K, Mwipwa E, Mami L, Mwizukulu

[ 188 ]

Appendix B

189

2 Nyamwezi kinship terminology (reference terms, female Ego)

A, Dada (Uso = your father, Ise = his or her father) B, Mayu (Noko = your mother, Nina = his or her mother) C, Nkulu if senior, Nzuna ifjunior, to Ego D, Ilumbu E, Mami F, Sengi

G, Guku H, Mama I, Myala (sibling terms are sometimes used) J, Mwana L, Mwizukulu M, Nsengizana

3 Affinal terminology (male Ego) A=6A=O Nkwela

Mayu

A=O

Nkwilima or Nkwela or Shemeki

=AA=O

Dada

Nkwela Ego or Nkanwana Sanze \Sanze

Nkanv

Kumba

Nke

A=

Nkwingwa Mayu Bukwi Nkwela £) = A Ntozi or Shemeki \ Mwichane

A7O Sanze / Sanze

O = A Nkwili

Nkwela

T

Nkwi g Nkwela or Shemeki

or

6

Nkwela

Mwana Q Mwana (wa Nkwela) (wa Nkwela)

* Wife's brother may be called Nkwingwa if he is senior to wife, especially if wife's father is dead. Shemeki is a Swahili term.

Appendix B

190

4 Affinal terminology (female Ego)

A=6 Nkwela

Nkwingwa

o=A

Dad

Mayu

A=o

6=A Nkwela or Shemeki

Kumba

6=

^

Mayu Bukwi

O O=ANkwela*

Ntolo

Nkwela Ego Ngoshi Mwichanc or Shemeki

A=OSan;

Sanze

^

Nkwela ( or Nkwingwa or Shemeki

J\

£,

6

(wa Nkwela) Mwana Nkumbakazi Nkumbakazi (wa Nkwela) / Nkanwana Q = / \

Sanze

) = A Nkwilima

* Husband's brother may be called Nkwingwa if he is senior to husband, and especially if husband's father is dead.

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Radcliffe-Brown, A. R. (1950). Introduction to Radcliffe-Brown, A. R. and Forde, D. (eds.), African Systems of Kinship and Marriage. Oxford. (1952). Structure and Function in Primitive Society. London. Revington, T. M. (1938). Concerning the Banangoma and Basumba Batale Societies of the Bukwimba Basukuma. Tanganyika Notes and Records, v, April 1938, 60-2. Reynolds, V. (1958). Joking Relationships in Africa. Man, LVIII, February 1958, no. 21, pp. 29-30. Richards, Audrey (1939). Land, Labour and Diet in Northern Rhodesia. London. (1956). Chisungu. London. (1960a). East African Chiefs (editor). London. (1960/?). Social Mechanisms for the Transfer of Political Rights in Some African Tribes. J.R.A.I, xc, part 11, i960, 175-90. (1961). African Kings and their Royal Relatives. J.R.A.I. xci, part 11, 1961, 135-50.

Rodger,J.T.R.C. (1954). Unyamwezi Development Report (unpublished). Rounce, N. V. (1949). The Agriculture of the Cultivation Steppe. Cape Town. Schapera, I. (1956). Government and Politics in Tribal Societies. London. Seligman, C. G. (1930). Races of Africa. London. Smith, Alison (1959). Historical Introduction to Whiteley's translation of the autobiography of Tippu Tip (Whiteley, 1959). Southall A. W. (ed.) (1961). Social Change in Modern Africa. Oxford. Speke, J. H. (1863). Journal ofthe Discovery ofthe Source ofthe Nile. Blackwood, London and Edinburgh. (1864). What Led to the Discovery of the Source of the Nile. Blackwood, London and Edinburgh. Spellig, F. (1927). Uber Geheimbiinde bei den Wanyamwezi. Zeitschrift fur Ethnologie, LIX, 1927, 62-6. Stanley Sir. H. M. (1872). How I found Livingstone. New York. (1878). Through the Dark Continent. 2 vols. London. Tanganyika Report for the Year 1938. H.M.S.O. London, 1959. Tanner, R. E. S. (1955). Law Enforcement by Communal Actionin Sukumaland, Tanganyika Territory. Journal of African Administration, vn, 4, October 1955, 159-65. (1957). The Installation of Sukuma Chiefs in Mwanza District, Tanganyika. African Studies, xvi, 4, 1957, 197-209. Thomson, J. (1881). To the Central African Lakes and Back. 2 vols. London,

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Tonnies, F. (1955). Community and Association (Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft). London. Verbeken, A. (1956). Msiri, Roi du Garenganze. Brussels. Weber, M. (1947). The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (ed. T. Parsons). London. Whiteley, W. H. (ed.) (1959). Maisha ya Hamed bin Muhammed el Mujerbi yaani Tippu Tip kwa maneno yake mwenyewe. (Autobiography of Tippu Tip.) Journal of the East African Swahili Committee, xxvm, 2, July 1958, and xxix, 1, January 1959. Wilson, Godfrey (1951). The Nyakyusa of South-western Tanganyika. In Colson, E. and Gluckman, M. (eds.), Seven Tribes of British Central Africa. Manchester. Wilson, Monica (1959). Communal Rituals of the Nyakyusa, Oxford. Yongolo, D. (1953). Maisha na Desturi za Wanyamwezi. (Life and customs of the Nyamwezi.) London. Young, R. and Fosbrooke, H. A. (i960). Land and Politics among the Luguru of Tanganyika. London.

INDEX account books, given to chiefs by Germans, 45, 46, 85 adultery, 52, 130, 147, 162, 165 affinal relationship (s) general, 20, 21-2, 23-4 in ruling families, 40, 55, 57-60 affines, role of, in death ceremonies, 26 African Chiefs Ordinance, 49, 151 Agricultural and Veterinary Departments, 53 agricultural year, ceremonies connected with, see first-fruit ceremonies agriculture, 8-10 ancestor sacrifice, 22, 104, 141, 155 Anglo-German agreement (of 1890), 45 ant-eater, forbidden food for chiefs, 124 Arabs as traders, 7, 11, 37, 38, 44 become autonomous group, 38 political influence of, in south and central Unyamwezi, 37-8, 39; in Kamba, 44 religious influence of, 105 assault, 148-9, 151, 162, 164, 165 authority, as distinct from coercion, 117

basese, slaves, 95 basket-work, 10, 124, 125 'Basukuma', see Sukuma basumba batale (commoner associations), 6 Baswezi, spirit-possession society, 105, 155 batemi ba mhoja, 'chiefs of prosperity', in early chiefdoms, 35 batemi kazi, women capable of bearing chiefs, 33, 119 bazenganwa

bane,

bazenganwa

bichane,

neighbours, 158 bazengi, commoners, 91, 97 Beattie, J. H. M., 164, 180, 181-2 beer brewing, 10, 100, 102 at mourning ceremonies, 26 Bende tribe, 5 bicycle (s), 11, 100 offences involving, 162, 165 bisilibe, nobles, 91, 97 bizukulu, grandsons of chiefs, 35, 36 blood vengeance, 25 Bosch, Rev. Fr P., 104 booty, 34, 44 boundary disputes, cases of, 58, 130 bow, royal, 124 ba buta (patrilateral kinsfolk), 24 Brachystegia—Isoberlinia association of ba migongo (matrikin), 24 vegetation, 8 bagohogoho, see banyikulu bagulansi, holders of territorial office for breach of contract, cases of, 130 bridewealth, 17, 23, 52, 94, 166 services rendered to chief, 96, 176 marriage with or without, 22 banachalo, see bagulansi court cases over, 162, 166 hanangoma, sub-chiefs, 88 British rule in Unyamwezi, 48-55; see also banangwa, sons of chiefs, 35, 36 Bantu, 1, 4, 91 Central Government banyikulu, or bagohogoho, ritual officers Bubanga village, 79 bubiti, 'hyenahood' (ostracism), 161 as chief's bodyguard, 36 budugu wa nsi, 'kinship of the land', 113 as stranglers of ailing chief, 36, 177 Bukamba chiefdom, 33, 57, 114 as custodians of royal regalia, 36, 65 and (burying and) installing of chief, Bukumbi village, 77 Bukumi settlement, 13-14 36, 65, 119, 123 bulls, as fines, 160 and succession of chief, 36, 65 Bulungwa chiefdom, 2 of slave stock, 36, 90, 96, 97 Bumholya, ancestress of Busangi chiefs, lack of successors of, 90 as 'clients' of chiefs, 176-7 74,75 Bara Unyamwezi Federation Council, 50 Bunakoba chiefdom, 45 baraza, building in which court is held, 101 Burton, R. F., 31 [196]

Index

197

Busagari chiefdom, 40, 69 contact with, 134; has varying relarivalry for chiefship of, 58-9, 137 tions with good and bad, 145-57 Government control of interregnum in issues Native Authority Ordinance and chiefship of, 121-2, 123 Native Courts Ordinance, 48-9 Busangi chiefdom, 13, n o federation policy of, with regard to distribution of tribes in, 3 chiefdoms, 49, 50-5, 173 created by German administration, 45-6, has abolished warfare, 56 role of, in border dispute, 58 57 and former chiefdom of Ntobo, 54, policy of, on (salaries to) headmen, 62, 82-3, 84, 140 75^6 policy of, on sub-chiefs, 88, 144 chief(s) of, 55, 56; relationships of, 59, 67, 68, 73, 74-6, 78, 92-5; deputy for, policy of, on taxation, 99 88; exemplary character of a modern, relations of, with chiefdom courts, 101, 133, 153-4, 155^6, 157; murder of 131, 136-7, 164, 165, 185; with one of, 138 neighbourhood courts, 159, 169,170 salaried and unsalaried headmen in, 64, attitude of, to traditional ritual, 126-7 and 'millet groups' and T.A.N.U., 72-3, 84, 86-7 169-70, 172, 184-5 court elders in, 89 Central Province, 8 ritual officers in, 90 Central Railway, 10 court cases in, 101, 161-2 Chanela, noble of Butumwa village, 94 Sukuma immigrants in, 155 Chela village, 77 Busebu, early settlement head, 13, 14 bush-clearers, hold office of village head- chickens, 9, 160 chiefdoms man, 36, 78, 79, 82, 83, 84, 96 structure and organization of, 27 bush-clearing, 102, 103 relations of, with Central Government, obtaining land by, 129 27, 46, 47, 56, 60-1; see also Central Busongo chiefdom, 2, 45, 67, 96 Government Busungo village, 78 versions of traditional history of, 32-3, Butumwa village 112 homestead composition of, 15—18, 79 territorial division in early, 32-3, 38-44; nobles of, 93, 94, 98 in the Kamba chiefdoms, 41-5; under Bwana Shauri, name for District Officer, German rule (increased numbers), 53 45-6, 47, 49; under British rule (reduced numbers), 49, 55, 73 Cameron, V. L., 38, 48 cattle internal organization of, 33-7; changes in, 38-41 loaning out of, 9, n ritual ties between, 36-7 ownership of, 6, 9, 10; by chiefs, 103 warfare between, 37 in bridewealth exchanges, 52 British rule in, 48-55 number of, in chiefdom, 132 federations and federation councils of, inoculation of, 141 50-2 culling of, 152 relationships between various, 55-60 taxes on, see taxes modern structure of, 62-98 Central Government, 20, 27 processes of proliferation of, 173-4 in relation to chiefs: regards them as fission of, comparative discussion of, agents, 46, 48-9, 60-1, 145, 183-4; controls candidature, election, dis173-5 missal, etc., of, 50, 65-6, 71, 136, 140, courts and court officers, see courts 180, 183-4; favours previous admininobles of, see ruling families strative experience in potential, 70-1, ritual officers of, see ritual 90; supervises interregnum in sucterritorial offices of, see chiefs, chiefs' cession of, 120-3, 126; has personal deputies, headmen, sub-chiefs

198

Index

chiefs brotherhood of, 134-5 division of territory, by early, 32-3, checks on power of, 135-9, 141, 1803 38-44 sacred character of, 33-4, 116-17 rivals for office of, 135, 137, 141 ritual beating of, 34, 123, 133 and commoners' councils, 136 ritual obligations of, 33-4, 39, 102, 104interdependence between headmen and, 5, 118, 128, 155-6, 183 139-41, 178 ritual strangling of, when ailing, 34, 35, relations between sub-chiefs and, 144-5 36,118 complicated relations of, with catetraditional hospitality and generosity of, gories of subjects, 146-7 34-5, 103, 133, 146 unsuccessful, instances of, 147-56 installation of (early), 36, 104; (modern), successful, instances of, 153-5, *57 90, 104, 114, 118-27, I 79 claims to kinship with, see kinship * warlords' among, 39-41, 44 deputies of, see chiefs' deputies susceptibility of, to witchcraft, 41, 43, ritual officers of, see ritual succession of, see chiefship 137 status of, under German rule, 45-6, 49, chiefs' deputies, 49, 55, 65, 100, 121 57, 58, 85 contrasted with sub-chiefs, 87-9 status of, under British rule, 48-55, chiefship 183-4; see also Central Government matrilineal succession to (in Kamba salaries of, 49, 51, 63, 99, 128; connected chiefdoms), 32, 41, 45, 174, 175; ,(in with prestige, 132—3; minimum, 132 chiefdoms generally), 33, 36; (in Ibili election and deposition of, 50, 65-6, 90, chiefdoms), 109, n o ; replaced by 120, 147, 148, 151, 184 patrilineal succession, 38-9, 41, 44, 46, 47, 92, 108, n o , 120 independent status of, vis a vis each other, 51-2; vis a vis Government, 133 regalia of: looked after by banyikulu, 36, 65; kitunga dress chief in, 36, 90; attitude of, to codification of law, 52 deprivation of, 43; during German dual responsibility of, to Government rule, 46, 81; supplied by founder and people, 54, 135, 136-7, 145; difFering criteria for, of 'good' and chiefdoms, 56, 57,179;' sacred objects 'bad', 145-6, 180 of chiefship ',113-17; at installations, and joking relationships, 56; see also 124 joking relationships interregna in: formerly kept secret, 34, 118, 119-20; now supervised by responsibilities of, in courts, 64, 65, 100-1, 130-2, 135-6 Central Government, 120-3, I 2 6 relationship of selected number of, to changes in character of, 39, 42, 43 predecessors, 67-70, 179 headmen's desire to control, 42, 43-4, education of, 71-2, 90 45, 46, 47 slaves of, 95-6 modern character of office of, 65-72 modern functions of Government persacred character of, 116-17 formed by, 99-105, 117 desirability of office of, 134-5 temporary decrees by, 102 see also chiefs religion of, 105 children legendary powers of ancient, 109-10 status of, 22 euphemisms used about death of, 118, custody of, 130, 132 120 Chilver, Mrs E. M., 178 subjects of, 'are their children', 125,133 Christianity, 105 material and social advantages enjoyed citizenship, of chiefdom, advantages of, 20, by, 128, 134-5 128-32 interdependence between subjects and, ' clientship', 176-8 128-33, 179-80 codification of native law and custom, 52 prestige of, 132-3 collective will, 117

Index

199

cow skin, 124 commoners crop failure, 8 associations of, in Sukumaland, 6 crops, 9-10, 33-4 increased power of, 50, 54, 120 successful, believed to depend on early councils of, 50, 136 chiefs, 33-4 as court elders, 89 compensation for damage to, 162 distinction between nobles and, 90-8 cultivation, 8-9 ego-oriented groupings of, 92, 95 now enter into handling of interregna in customary law, 52, 89 chiefship, 120 dances, 10 see also subjects communal activities, communal labour, Dar es Salaam, 10, 169 death, of commoners, ceremonies con102-3, 136, 141, 145, 151, 158, 163 nected with, 26-7 chief's exemption from, 134 debt see also neighbours, co-operating groups in neighbourhood relationships, 21 of repayment of, 162 communications, 10 Desoignies, P., 42, 176 Cory, H., 33, 52, 104, 127, 129 diet, 11 cotton-growing, 6 disease, 9, 11 court clerks, 49; duties of, 65, 100; office of, distributive functions, of chiefs and headmen, 103-4 is preparation for chiefship, 71, 121; District education of, 89-90 administration, 89, 141 elders, 65, 89, 100-1, 131; in council of Commissioner (s), 50, 51, 83; powers of, elders, 135 53, 66, 122, 149, 151 messengers, 65, 86, 89, 100, 165 federations, 50-2, 53, 60 registers, 131 headquarters, 66, 100 courts Officers, 53, 55, 131 former, of greater headmen, 3 5 Treasury, 99, 100 chiefdom, 48, 51, 64; organization of, 89-90, 165; civil and criminal cases divination, 26, 34, 36, n o , 119 heard by, 100, 162; procedure in, diviners, 10, 115, 116 societies of, 25 100-1, 185; decisions of, open to apemployed in royal ritual, 90, 124 peal, 101, 131; advantages to subemployed by chiefs, 96, 104, 155 jects offered by, 130-2; offences against persons heard by, 130, 162; divorce, 22, 102, 130, 131, 166 efficiency of, 131; safeguards for dog, 'four-eyed', 123 proper hearing of cases in, 13 5-6; di- domestic group relationships in, 20, 25 vision of labour, between neighbourrole of, in death ceremonies, 26 hood courts and, 161-7, 172; cases exclusively dealt with by, 165-6, 167 drought, 8, 34, 102 sub-chiefdom, 48, 64; relieve burden on drums, royal, 96, 114, 115, 118 splitting of, by claimants to protection, chiefdom courts, 87, 131, 144; elders 95, 177 of, 89 in installation ceremonies, 124, 125 neighbourhood, 159-67; technically illegal, 159; informal procedure of, drunkenness, 147 159-60, 166; penalties exacted by, dry season, 8, 10, 102 160-1, 164-5, 185; division of labour Durkheim, E., 117 between chiefdom courts and, 161-7; dynasties, see ruling families cases normally dealt with by, 163-5 '•> temporary conflict between Central eating separately, by men and women, 13, 25 Government and, 170; rare in Tabora, in public, required of chiefs, 34-5, 124 172

Index

200

education of chiefs, 71-2, 90 of headmen, 86-7 of sub-chiefs, 88 of court clerks, 90 elders, council of, see court clerks elephant tusk, the prerogative of earlychiefs, 34, 114 English, chiefs' knowledge of, 71, 72 Europeans, not subject to chiefdom courts, 101

Evans-Pritchard, E. E., n o Fallers, L. A., 178 famine, 9 federation councils, chiefdom, see chiefdoms female office-holders, in headmanships, 36 fines, 34, 45, 103, 160, 161, 163, 169 Fipa tribe, 3 fire, extinction and re-making of, at installation, 125 first-fruit ceremonies, 102, 155, 156 First World War, 13, 48, 49 functions, of government, 99-105 Fundikira I, chief of Unyanyembe, 37 Gabulyeli, noble of Butumwa village, 94 Game Departments, 114 laws, 145 Geita, district of, 93, 115, 157 'genealogical manipulation', in historical charters, i n , 112 Genja, wife of Nzilwa, 59, 60 German East Africa, 45 German rule in Unyamwezi, 13, 45-6, 48, 49, 57, 58, 85 giraffe, forbidden food for chiefs, 124 goats, 9, 160, 161, 163, 169 Gogo tribe, 5 gourds, at installation ceremonies, 124,125 Government School, 71 great wife, of early chiefs, see wives greater headmen, of early chiefs, 33 patrilineal succession of, 33, 63 courts of, 35 power of, 36, 183 rivalry between, 38-9, 41-4, 81 appointment of, as chiefs, by Germans, 45, 49, 81 modification of office of, under British, 49-50

guinea-fowl, forbidden food for chiefs, 124 Gula village cluster salaried headmen in, 72, 74, 75 unsalaried headmen in, 77-8 village headmen of, 77, 79 gunguli, area in charge of salaried headman, 63 guns, 39, 40, 100 Ha tribe, 3, 4, 173, 174 hand-clapping, 81, 134 Harding,). R., 116 hartebeeste, skin of, 115 Haya tribe, 45, 173-4 headmen system of two ' tiers' of, established by British, 49-50, 72, 80, 139 salaried (village cluster), 49-50, 93; administrative functions of, 62-3; place of, in territorial hierarchy, 64; relationship of, to chiefly lines, 72-7; similarities and differences between unsalaried and, 80-1, 143-4; chiefs' sons and personal followers as, 81-2, 143, 176; salaries of, 87, 141; sub-chiefs resemble, 144; duties of, concerning law and order, 100, 101, 102; authority of, over unsalaried, 143-4 unsalaried (village), 50, 62-3; place of, in territorial hierarchy, 64; relationship of, to chiefly lines, analysed, 7780; similarities and differences between salaried and, 80-1, 143-4; no sons of chiefs among, 81; few personal associates of chiefs among, 82; bush-clearers become, 82; data on representative number of, 87; duties of, concerning law and order, 100; advantages and disadvantages of office of, 143-4; threat to rights of, by millet chiefs, 170 kinds of election of, 82-4, 155 system for deposing, 84-6, 141, 145 kinship groups, and office of, 72, 80, 82-3, 84-5, 86 education of, 86-7 claims to kinship with, 95-7 functions of government performed by, with chiefs, 99-105; of administration, for chiefs, 140-1 on councils of elders, 135-6

Index headmen (cont.) interdependence between chiefs and, I39-4I

interdependence between subjects and, Hi-3 checks on power of, 141-2 rivalry for office of, 142-3 Hehe tribe, 5 help, mutual, among neighbours, see neighbourhood, neighbours Hengele, chief of Ibili, 107, 109, n o Hermani, headman in Kahama chiefdom, 85-6 historical charters, 107-18 historical knowledge, transmission of, 106-18 homestead (s) movement of, 14-15, 18 cultivation of former sites of, 14-15, 18 composition of, 15-19, 25 of great wives, 3 5 heads of, 84, 89, 138, 142, 159 homicide, 101 hospital, carrying sick to, 103 house-building, 10, 22, 159 households, 25 hunters, i n , 115 hunting, 10, 32, 34, 141 hunts, communal, 102, 103 husband, rights of, 22 hyena, attitudes to, 161 Ibambangulu, ancient chief of Sagari dynasty, 35, n o ibanza, court, 101, 159 Ibili chiefdom, 2, 32, 67, 69, 122 internal strife in, 39 succession to chiefship in, 68, 109, n o court cases in, 101-2 versions of royal history of, 107-n, 112 Ifiga, chief of Ibili, 108, 109, n o Igalukilo, former Nsalala chiefdom headquarters, 81 Igalula village, 142-3 Igobole village, 78 ihala, cleared land, 12 ikela (ilala), fallow land, 12 Hale, headman of Kibama village, 80 immigrants, 151-2 incest, 163 Indian population, 7, 11, 101, 169 'Indirect Rule', policy of, 48, 53-5, 62

201

inefficiency, a contributory cause of dismissal of chiefs, 147, 148, 151 influenza epidemic, effects of, 48 inheritance (of property), 26, 27; (suing for), 130, 162 initiation house, of chief, 123, 124, 126 interregna, in chiefship, see chiefship iporu, uncultivated bush, 12 Iramba tribe, 2, 3, 4, 5 iron-working, 10 Isike, chief of Unyanyembe, 41, 45 Islam, 105 itindikilo, initiation house of chief, 123, 126 itongo, place where homestead has stood, 14 ivory, 9, 10, 114 iwa lya miso anne, 'four-eyed dog', 123 joking relationships between kinsmen and affines, 23, 24, 56 between dynasties whose territories border on each other, 37, 55-6, 57 effect on, of royal intermarriage, 58 Kadundu, chief of western Kahama, 43 Kagela village, 18-19, 83, 84 Kahama (district), 1, 3, 7, 8; (town), 7, 10, 88, 169, 170, 171 chiefdom(s), 2, 30, 33; conflict in, 42-4, 58, 138; (Ntobo), 54-5; federation of, 50, 51-2 tribal composition of population of, 4 headmen in, 42-4, 85, 87 differences of custom in, 52 chiefs: relationships between, 59, 67, 69; dismissal of, 66; data on present day, 70, 71, 72, 105, 132 ritual officers in, 90 court cases in, 101-2, 161-2 cattle policy in, 152 co-operation between neighbours in, 158 Kakola I, village cluster of, 141-2 Kalima, chief of Western Kahama, 43 Kalingas, of the Philippines, 95 Kalugula, chief of Busangi, 59, 60 Kalugula I, chief of Nsalala, i n Kamba dynasty, 32, 57, n o , 115; joking relationship between Sagari and, 55, 56, 58 chiefdoms: matrilineal succession in, 32, 33, 41, 45; conflict in, 39; history of,

202

Index

Kamba (cont.)

in nineteenth century, 41-6, 47, 174; patrilineal succession in, i n ; witchcraft in, 142; division of labour between chiefly lines of, 175-6 kamunhenga, name of bird, chanted at installation, 124 Kapigawasi, father of chief of Uyui, 76 Kapulilo I, 108, 109, n o Kapulilo II, chief of Ibili, 108, 109, n o Karagwe, 44 Karitu chiefdom, 40, 58 Karunde chiefdom, 67, 68, 69, 85 Kashindye, chief of Ibili, 107,109, n o , i n katikiro, court messenger, 65 kaya, settlement, 13 Kaze, former name of Tabora, 37 Kenya, 1, 31 Kibama village, 13-14, 79-80 Kibela, chief of Ibili, 108, 109, n o Kidenda, father of Simba, noble of Ibili, 109 Kigoma, 10 Kihongwe, headman in Kahama chiefdom, 85 kijiji, area controlled by unsalaried headman, 63 Kimbu tribe, 3, 4, 5 kinship, one of several kinds of relationship, 20 ties: in homesteads, 15-17, 25; in ruling families, 21, 58-60, 67-9; among commoners, 21-4 terminology of, 24 traditional practices of, 25 groups: holding salaried headmanships, 72-7, 82-6; holding unsalaried headmanships, 78-80; holding office of ngabe, 90, and of kitunga, 90; interrelated series of, in ruling families, 91-8 * through the land', 78, 96, 113 cognatic, 93, 95 claims to, with headmen, 95 claims to, with chiefs, 95-7; complexities of situation regarding, 97-8, 139 compared with 'clientship', 177-8 Kinyamwezi language, 88, 154 kipande, area controlled by unsalaried headman, 63 Kishimba, chief of Kahama, 43, 59, 60 Kisuke village, 92 Kitamanywa, chief of Busagari, 40, 59, 60 Kitambi, chief of Uyui, 76, 96

kitunga, ritual officer, 90 duties of, at installation of chief, 36, 65, 90, 119, 124 kinship group of, 90 significance of title, 119 Kiwere, chief of, 69 Kiyenzile, chief of Ibili, 107, 108 Kondo, descendant of an Ibili chief, 108 Konongo tribe, 3, 5 Kuhenga, chief of Kahama, 43 Kulwa, greater headman of Ngogwa, 44, 76 kusumula, to commit an offence liable to masumule, 160

kutunga, to dress, 119 kuzenga, to build, 158 Lake Province, of Tanganyika, 1, 5, 6 Lake Tanganyika, 32 land different categories of, 12 exploitation of, by non-Africans, 7-8 fallow, 12, 129-30, 153-4 in a chiefdom, said to belong to chief, 103, 128, 130

distributed by chief through headmen, 103-4, 129, 140, 144 ways of obtaining, 129 tenure, 103-4; security of, 128-30, 141 disputes over, 140 law and custom, native, codification of, 52 law and order maintenance of, 100-2, 172 system of, 130-2 breaches of, by chiefs, 147-57 legislation, passed by chiefdom federations, 52, 60 leopard skins, traditionally the right of headmen, 34, 114 leprosy, 124 lesser headmen, of early chiefs, 35-6 Liebenow, J. G., 105, 176 lion, skins, etc., of, traditional prerogative of chiefs, 32, 34, 114 lion-skin straps, 114-15, 125 chief-elect enveloped in, 123 litigation, 10, 102 Lohumbo chiefdom, 33, 58 Lunguya chiefdom, 45 lupingu, shell ornament, 116 lynx skin, 124

Index mabanza ga banamhala, neighbourhood

courts, 159 Mabele, early chief, 33 Machibya, chief of Eastern Kahama, 43 Madenda, headman of Mpangala village cluster, 73, 74 Maganga, Sagari chief, 111-12 magical powers, 35 Magulu, headman of Kahama, 43 Mair, Lucy, 130, 177, 178 maize, 9, 102 Makerere College, 72 Makuwa, father of chief Kiyenzile of Ibili,

203

Mhalu, chiefdom, 45, 71 Government handling of interregnum in chiefship of, 120-1, 122, 127, 138

Mhandu village, headman of, 77 Mhowa, Manda chief, 115 Mhulingi, chief of Ntobo, 75, 76 Mihambo, headman of Busangi village cluster, 72-3 milango, royal drums, 115 millet, 9, 102 use of, in installation ceremonies, 124,125 bulrush, threshing of, 134, 158, 167-8 'chiefs' of, 168-71; association of, with Tanganyika African National Union, in 169-70 Makonda, noble of Butumwa village, miombo, bush country, 8 94-5, 98 Mirambo, headman in Uyui, 76 malale, cultivated land, 12 Mirambo, nineteenth-century chief, 39malnutrition, 11 41, 44, 59, i n , 137, 179 Malwa, matrilineal link through, in Misana, headman of Mpangala village Busangi royal family, 93 cluster, 73, 74 Manda dynasty, 115 Mkasiwa, chief of Unyanyembe, 37, 38 Manyema tribe, 3 mkubwa wa kipande, unsalaried headman, Manyoni district, 5 Maquet,J. J., 177-8, 180, 182, 183 63 marriage, 10, 22-3, 101; see also ruling Mlekwa, headman of Gula village cluster, families, intermarriage between 75, 77, 78 masaba, ivory wristlets, 114 Mnhonga I, chief of Ibili, 107, i n Masabi, village of, 78 Mnhonga II, chief of Ibili, 108, n o Masanja, chief of Ibili, 107, i n , 112 Mnywa Sera, chief of Unyanyembe, 37Mashimba, headman of Mpangala village 8 cluster, 73, 74 'Monemugi', name associated with Mashimba, heir to chiefdom of Mhalu, Nyamwezi, 31 120-1 Morogoro village, 81 Masudi, headman in Uyui, 76 Mpandachalo, brother of Mirambo, 41 Masumbwe chiefdom, 64, 67 Mpangala village cluster, 72, 81 masumule, fines imposed by neighbourvillage headmen of, 13, 80 hood courts, 160 salaried headmen of, 73, 74, 78, 79, matongo, plural of itongo, q.v. 86 matrilineal nobles in, 92-5 succession: to chiefship, see chiefship Mpuga, chief of Ibili, 108, 109, n o links, between segments of ruling Msekela, former chief of Ntobo, 77, 85 families, 92 mshahara, payments to chiefs and salaried division of labour, between matrilineal headmen, 63 and patrilineal lines, 36, 119, 175 mtemi, chief, 63 Mayunga, noble of Butumwa village, 94 Muhammed bin Juma, 37 Mbashani, chief of Busangi, 59, 60, 73 Muhida village, 79, 81 Mbati, headman of slave origin in Ntobo, ruling family of, 93 munangoma, sub-chief, 49, 87 75, 177 murder, 35, 147 mbiti, hyena, 161 Mwakarunde, chiefdom of, 32, 114 Mbogwe, chief of, 75, 119 mwanangwa, salaried headman, 63, 72, 80, mbuga, low-lying land, 12 96 medicines, 11

204

Index

Mwangoye, chiefdom of, 2, 3, 32, 56 Mwanza, 6, 10 Mwanzimba village, 78, 83 Mwendabanhu I, chief of Nsalala, 76, 77 Mwendabanhu II, chief of Nsalala, 74, 75, 90, 92, 93 Mwingilo chiefdom, 115 mwizukulu, relation of term with mwanangwa, 63-4 mzenga kaya, village headman, 13, 63

riot against chief of, 66, 138,141,148-53 election of village headman in, 83, 84, 85 chief's deputy in, 88 ritual officers in, 90 Sukuma immigrants into, 152 Ngogwa chiefdom, 42, 44, 45, 67, 121, 127 Ngulu, chief of, 69 nina wa ntemi, mother of chief, 3 5 Nindo chiefdom, 33, 57 Nkandi, headman, later chief, of eastern Nankwila dynasty, 55 Kahama, 43, 45 Nkola, chief of Kahama, 43 Native Administration, 90 Native Authorities, Authority, 49, 50-1, Nkumbi, ancient chief of Kamba dynasty, 32-3, 57, n o , 114, 174 53, 122, 150, 165 Native Authority Tax, 99, 100, 128, 141 nobles and commoners, distinction between, Native Authorities Ordinance, 48 90-8 Native Courts Ordinance, 48 a feature of Bantu society, 91 Native Treasuries, Treasury, 48, 51 through kinship with chief, 91-5 chiefs paid from, 49, 132 through holding office under chief, 91, headmen paid from, 62-3, 141 95-6 native words, traditional and modern a privileged group, 97 usage of, 63-4 see also ruling families natural justice, 48 Nsabi I, chief of Nsalala, 72, 73, 81, 119 Ndega, late chief of Kahama, 85 Nsabi III, chief of Busangi, 138 ndezi, shell ornaments, 116 Nsalala chiefdom, 33, 72, 73, 77, 78 Ndulansi, early chief of Ibili, 108, n o neighbourhood headmen in, 42, 43-4, 46, 176 division of, 45-6, 57, 58 relationships, 20-1, 21-2, 158-9 installation of Nsabi I in, 119 organization, may conflict with chiefdismissal of chief of, 141 dom organization, 167-70, 184-5 Nsalala Ndogo chiefdom, 45-6, 93, 115 see also courts, neighbourhood nsese, slave, 95, 177 neighbours, 18 Ntabo, salaried headman of Mpangala mutual help among, 21, 158-9 village cluster, 73, 74, 79, 80, 86, 94-5 participate in each other's rituals, 26, ntemi, chief, 33, 42, 81 159, 172 Ntobo, former chiefdom terms for, 158 given independent status by Germans, co-operating groups of, 158-9, 167-8 ostracism by, 161 45, 54-5 village cluster of, headman in, 72, 73-6, ngabe, ritual officer, 77 82, 84 duties of, regarding divination, 36 greater headmanship in, 75, 81, 177 duties of, regarding succession to chiefformer chiefs of, 77, 78, 79 ship, 36, 65, 119 duties of, at installation, 36, 65, 119, Ntundu village, 79, 81 ntwale wa Batusi, leader of Tusi, 89 124-5 Nundu village, 78 kinship group of, 78, 90 Nungili, matrilineal link through, in lack of successors of, 90 Busangi royal family, 92 admonitions of, to chiefs and subjects, Nyakyusa, 173, 175 125, 127, 133 Nyamwezi Ngalula, chief of Ibili, 108, n o a multi-chiefdom tribe, 1, 173 Ngaya preponderant in Unyamwezi, 1-4 chiefs of, 66, 83

Index Nyamwezi (cont.) classification of, 4-5 relationship of, to Sukuma, 5-6 preference of, for areas within Unyamwezi, 7 some members of, leave Unyamwezi, 9-10

205

porcupine-hunters, societies of, 25 Portuguese, on Nyamwezi, 31 power, respected and unrespected, 116-17 prisoners of war, harboured by chief, 147, 148 Provincial Commissioners, 50, 53, 101, 122

political organization of, 27-30 public funds, misappropriation of, 146, first historical mention of name, 31 147, 148 Nyaturu tribe, 5 public tasks, see communal labour nyihanga, great wife of early chiefs, 35, 118, 123, 124 Radcliffe-Brown, A. R., 56 nyihojo, second wife of early chiefs, 35, rainfall, 34, 104 rainy season, 8, 9, 10, 34, 102 123, 124 agriculture during, 9, 10, 102 Nyoro, 165 and early chiefs, 34 Nzega district regulative functions, of chiefs and headpreponderance of Nyamwezi in, 1 men, 102 chiefdoms of, 2, 3, 29, 32-3, 45, 50, 114 tribal composition of population of, 4, 7 re-settlement, 11 revenue, collection of, 99-100; see also taxcattle ownership in, 9 collection communications with, 10 Richards, Audrey, 106, 109, n o , i n , 173, differences of custom in, 52 174, 176 data on present-day chiefs of, 70, 71,105 rights in rem, cases concerning, 165, 166 Nzilwa, chief of Busangi, 59, 60 Nzuki, headman in Mpangala village ritual dependence, see ruling families cluster, 73, 74, 94 euphemism, 118, 120 officers, 34, 36, 90, 104, 107; see also ostracism, by neighbours, 161, 169, 172, ngabe, kitunga, banyikulu 185 Owen Falls Dam, Uganda, 72 shaving, 124 strangling, 34, 35, 36, 118 rituals Pakistanis, 7 mutual participation in, of kinsfolk and paramount chiefs, 6 neighbours, 22, 159 passer-by, duty of, to help in communal secret, 25 work, 158, 163 at death, 26-7 patrilineal commission of errors at communal, 163, division of labour, between matrilineal 164 lines and, 36, 119, 175 core, of segments of ruling family, 92-3, road maintenance, 102, 145 Rongo tribe, 3, 4, 10 97 roofing grass, 14, 18, 103, 151 succession, to chiefship, see chiefship succession, to headmanship, see headmen Ruanda-Urundi, 45, 178 Paulo, headman of Mpangala village rugaruga, trained troops, 39 ruling families cluster, 73, 74 joking relationships between, 7, 37, Pemba, 10 Petelo, noble of Butumwa village, 94 55-<S. 57 pig, wild, forbidden food for chiefs, 124 traditional history of, 31-7 police force, 53, 149 intermarriage between, 37, 57-60 'political community', definition of, 27 affinal relationships of, 40, 55, 57-60 polygyny, 22, 134 conflicting claims of, 54-5 popular elections, of headmen, 82-4 single-dynasty, 55; relations of ritual population, movement of, 138-9 dependence in, 55, 56-7

206

Index

ruling families (cont.) segments of, claim patrilineal descent from early chiefs, or kinship of the land, 91-8, 113 historical charters of, 106-13 property associated with historical charters of, 113-18 see also chiefs, headmen

sleeping-sickness, 9, n snake-charmers, societies of, 25 snake societies, 85 sorcery, 124; see also witchcraft sororate, 25, 60 spear, carried by ngabe, 124 spear, royal, 124 Speke, J. H., 12, 41-2, 44 spirit-possession societies, 25, 105, 143, 'sacredness', definition of, in regard to 155 chiefly power, 116-17 spitting, 124, 125 sacrifice, to ancestors, 104 spoon, wooden, carried by great wife, 124 Sagari dynasty, 32, 35, 40, 58-9, n o , 179 spur-fowl, forbidden food for chiefs, 124 joking relationship of, with Kamba and standard of living, n Nankwila, 55, 56, 58 Stanley, H. M., 39 Saidibn Selim, governor of Unyanyembe, status symbols, 133, 134 38 stool-making, 10 Salum, headman in Uyui, 76 stools, used at installation of chief, 124, 125; Sawasawa, chief of Kahama, 43; of eastern at neighbourhood courts, 159-60 Kahama, 45 straps, for royal regalia, 114-15, 116, 124 Schapera, I., 27, 91 sub-chiefs, 49, 55, 64, 67 secrecy compared with chiefs' deputies, 87-9 in regard to interregnum in chiefship, 34, similarities between salaried headmen 118, 119-20 and, 144, 183 enjoined upon chiefs' wives, 124 share burden of chiefs' work, 144-5 secret societies courts of, see courts relationship of, 20, 25-6 subjects initiation rites of, 26 interdependence between chiefs and, rituals of, at death ceremonies, 26 125, 127, 128-33 settlement, patterns of, 12-19 mobility of, 138 settlements, government-controlled, n interdependence between headmen and, heads of, 13 I4I-3 sheep, 9, 160 suicide, 147 shell ornaments: royal, 114, n 5-16; worn Sukuma, 2, 173 by commoners, 116 tribe: distribution of, 3, 4; relationship shield, royal, 124 of ruling families of, to Nyamwezi, Shija, 'borderline' noble of Butumwa 5-6, 78; cattle-owners, 9, 155; village, 94 opposed to cattle-tax, 148, 152, 155 shikolo sha butetni, sacred objects of chief- German policy towards, 45 ship, 113, 115, 117 language, 49 Shilinde, chief of Kahama, 43 chief, 58 shilungu, ornamental shells, 116 immigration of, into Ngaya, 148, 152; Shinyanga District, 5, 33, 57, 58 into Busangi, 155 shops, n Sukumaland, 5, 33 Simba mwana Kidenda, kinsman of chief relationship of, with Unyamwezi, 5-6, of Ibili, 107, 108, 109, n o 4i skills, special, 10 cotton production in, 10 slave origin, 67, 90, 96, 97, 177 ritual in, 127 slave trading, 9 Sumbwa tribe, 1, 2, 119 slaves, 36 distribution and numbers of, 3, 4, 7 of headmen, 95 federation of chiefdoms of, 50 of chiefs, 75, 95-6, 147, 177 differences of custom in, 52

Index Swahili terms, 49, 53, 63, 88 handbook in, 52 chief's deputy, 88 text on difficulties of chiefship, 156 Tabora, 5, 18, 39, 40, 84, 85, 88, 107 Nyamwezi preponderant in, 1 chiefdoms of, 2, 28, 45, 50, 51, i n population of, 3, 7 railway through, 10 Arabs in, 37, 38, 40-1, 105 and Germans, 45, 48 differences of custom in, 52 present-day chiefs of, data on, 69, 70, 71, 72, 105 Government school in, 71, 156 election of headmen in, 83-4 court cases in, 101—2 Government control of interregna in chiefship of, 121-2 weak neighbourhood organization in, 172 Tanganyika, 1, 45 ' cultivation steppe' of, 8 Nyamwezi dynasty originated from, 3i

British administration in, 48, 71 policy of Indirect Rule in, 48, 53-5 Governor of, 50, 66 administration of, 53 African National Union in, 54, 133, 150, 151, 154, 167-70 native representation of, 72 Legislative Council of, 72 independence of, 186 tarishi, court messenger, 65 Taturu, Nilo-Hamitic, 5 tax clerks, 100 taxation of Arab caravans, by early chiefs, 44 organization of, 51, 60, 103 tax-collection, a duty of chiefs, 45, 46, 47, 137, 145, 146, 151 taxes based on citizenship, 99 Native Authority, 99, 100 personal, 99-100 on cattle, 99, 100, 148-9, 151, 152, 155 occasional, 100 the source of chiefs' salaries, 132 delay in paying, 137, 141

207

unpopularity of, 145 taxpayers, 50, 63, 132, 137, 141 technical and social services, provided by federation councils, 51 termites, damage by, 14 territorial law, 48 territorial offices, associated with various segments of ruling families, 62, 91-8, 175-9 theft, 130, 162, 165 thieves, abetting of, 147 Tongwe tribe, 5 torture, 147 trade, indigenous, 38, 40-1 traders, non-African, 7-8 tree-felling, 100 tribute, traditional, paid to early chiefs and headmen, 32, 34, 35, 38, 99, 103, 132 tribute-labour, 34, 103 tsetse fly, 9, 11, 81, 103, 122 Tusi tribe distribution and numbers of, 3,4 agriculture among, 8-9 cattle-owners, 9 iron-working by, 10 leader of, in Busangi, 89 Ugalla, i n Uganda, 31, 72 Ugunda, chief of, 69 Ukamba chiefdom, 33, 67 Ukumbi, chief of, 69 Ukuna chiefdom, 41 Ulyankulu chiefdom, 40, 69 unilineal descent groups, 21 Unyambiyu chiefdom, 2, 3 Unyamwezi, area and peoples covered by term, 1-8 Unyanyembe chiefdom, 2, 37, 38, 39, 56, 64, 67, 69 opposition of, to Germans, 45 sub-chiefs in, 88 prestige of chief of, 133 utemi, chiefdom, 63 Uyowa chiefdom, 40, 69 Uyui chiefdom, 18, 19, 32, 45, 56, 68, 69 recognition of, by Germans, 45, 85 chiefs of, 45, 59, 67, 68, 85, 154 salaried and unsalaried headmanships in, 64, 76-7, 96 village headmen in, 83 chief's deputy for, 88, 89

208

Index

venereal disease, n , 162, 165 verbal abuse, 130, 162 Victoria, Lake, 5, 42, 44 village significance of term, 12, 62 not a kinship unit, 21 ruling family of, 21, 93-4 elders of, forming neighbourhood courts, 159 village cluster, significance of term, 62 village headmen, 13, 20-1, 26-7; see also headmen, unsalaried Vinza tribe, 5 violence on part of early greater headmen, 43 against chiefs, 66, 138, 147, 149 court cases of, 130 wageni, commoners, 91 wages, for communal labour, 103 wakili, deputy, 88, 121 wanila, public ceremony at installation of chief, 124, 125 warfare, civil and inter-chiefdom, 12, 37, 39, 56, 58, 104; spoils from, 34, 44 wealth of present-day individuals, 11 from raiding and taxation of Arab caravans, 38, 44 brought to chiefs, 34, 38

weapons, 39 Weber, M., 116 Western Province, of Tanganyika, 5, 6 widow inheritance, 25 Wilson, Monica, 175 Wimo, father of unpopular chief of Ngaya, 83, 150 witchcraft, 35, 41, 43, 101, 138, 142-3 witnesses, in court, 101, 102, 165 wives, of early chiefs great wife (nyihanga), 34, 35, 118, 123, 124 second wife (nyihojo), 35, 123, 124 women capable of bearing chiefs, 33, 119 chiefs, 68 headmen, 35, 82 as taxpayers, 100 ya butina budugu, ya butina nsoni, traditional practices of kinship, 25 Zanzibar, 10, 38 zawadi, payment to unsalaried headmen, 63 zebra, forbidden food for chiefs, 124 Zelele, chief of Kahama, 43 Zinza tribe, 113, 173-5