Oral Literature in Africa (70 page)

Competitive riddling has been extensively described for many of the Bantu-speaking peoples. In southern Africa it not infrequently takes the form of a contest between two teams. Among the Tlokwa, for instance, the children are divided into two groups as they sit round the fire in the winter when it is too cold to be outdoors, and the first group to start goes on asking until the other side can no longer answer (Nakene 1943: 126). Among some other Bantu peoples such as the Nyanja the competition is between individuals, not teams. Schapera describes the game as played among the Kgatla: if two children are involved, one begins asking the other, and continues until the other is unable to answer; the second then says ‘Let the buyers come’ and questions in turn; when the other fails he says ‘Tell me yours’, and there is an exchange of the riddles each had not known. A similar process is followed when several children are playing, with a division into sides which ‘buy’ the unknown riddles from each other, the more skilful side taunting their opponents (Schapera 1932: 216). This fiction of having to ‘pay’ in return for the un-guessed answer is a fairly common theme. Among the Nyanja in Central Africa the pretended recompense is cattle (‘We pay up oxen.’ ‘How many?’ ‘Such-and-such a number’ (Werner 1906: 214) while in Kenya the one giving up has to name a town (‘Give me a town’—’Go to Mombasa’, etc. (Hollis 1917: 135) Similarly in West
Equatorial Africa Mbete children have to ‘pay’ a village (Adam 1940: 134; see also Lukas 1937: 163 (Kanuri), Calame-Griaule 1965: 471–2 (Dogon), Berry 1961: 16n.).

Such riddling competitions are often conventionally preceded by special formulas which are surprisingly alike throughout the Bantu area: in Lamba, for instance, the propounder says
tyo
(‘guess’) while the other replies
kakesa
(‘let it come’) or
kamuleta
(‘bring it’), and then the riddles are asked (Doke 1934: 362); the Nyanja lead off riddle-sessions round the communal fire with
cilape!
(‘a riddle!’) answered by
nacize!
(‘let it come!’) and a shout of
wafa
(‘he has died’) when the right answer is given (Gray 1939: 253–4); and innumerable similar examples could be cited from Bantu-speaking peoples.
¹⁹

Elsewhere, in West Africa for instance, riddles are asked before or during performances of stories or songs. Even where there is apparent similarity to the Bantu pattern with introductory formulas before riddling sessions, the practice is very different because of the absence of the competitive element. Among the Anang Ibibio of Southern Nigeria, for instance, riddle-asking is preceded by special introductory formulas, posed by an individual, then answered in unison by the group. The riddles are not told to baffle the audience or stimulate them to guess, for the answers are all known; even when a new one is invented, the originator adds the reply with the question instead of asking for a solution. The emphasis is very much on communal entertainment rather than competition: ‘The enjoyment of a riddle derives from the sharing of it by members of a group rather than from the challenge to the imagination it presents’ (Messenger 1960: 226).

Riddles also occasionally occur in other contexts. Among the Lamba, and perhaps other peoples, riddles are sometimes referred to in speeches as a striking way of holding people’s attention, and thus contribute to the literary richness of oratory (Doke 1934: 362). In addition to the Makua song-riddles, even simple riddles sometimes have connections with initiation, as among the Tlokwa where the special language learnt in the initiation ceremonies is connected with riddles.
²⁰

To some extent riddles also appear in various spheres of everyday life. Among the Chaga, riddles can be used to influence someone’s action
through irony or indirect suggestion, to imply a threat without actually stating it, or to convey secret information (Messenger 1960: 225–6). This kind of usage somewhat resembles that of proverbs and seems more usual with the complex forms than with the more simple riddle mainly used by children. The Anang proverb-riddles, for example, are used, like proverbs, by people of both sexes and all ages in a multitude of social situations and are expected to instruct as well as amuse (Raum 1940: 219), while among the neighbouring Efik the complex tone riddles, with their proverbial replies can be used for oblique cursing, humorous greeting, succinct explanation of an action, and to embarrass women through their erotic content (Simmons 1958: 124).

However, such everyday usages are relatively rare. Conventionally riddle-telling is a social pastime, for amusement pure and simple. This aspect of riddling is brought out by two further points about its occasions. First, it tends to be a separate and restricted activity. It is very common in all parts of Africa for there to be a general rule—not always strictly observed, but a rule nevertheless—that riddle-telling should take place in the evening and not during the day; in East Central Africa there is sometimes the further limitation that riddling should not take place during certain phases of the farming year (Fortune 1951: 30; ten Raa 1966: 391). Riddles are thus, unlike proverbs, regarded as a kind of marginal activity reserved for special times rather than a universal aspect of human activity and communication. Secondly, it is generally children who are expected to take an interest in the light-hearted asking of riddles. There are some exceptions to this. Among the Yoruba, for example, both children and adults are said to enjoy riddles although they are especially popular with young children (Gbadamos and Beier 1959: 53; Bascom 1949: 7), while Kamba adults, even more than children, compete in riddling; two outstanding riddle experts are described as exchanging ‘riddles and answers with a rapidity resembling two skilled fencers making thrusts and parries’ (Lindblom iii, 1934: 4). However, these situations are not common. More generally, riddles are associated with children’s amusement in contrast to the more serious use of proverbs by their elders.

The explicit purpose of riddles, then, is almost invariably amusement. Commentators have, however, predictably pointed to many of their incidental functions as well. Besides entertainment, riddles are sometimes claimed to play an indirect educational role by training children in quick
thinking, in intellectual skill, and in classification,
²¹
providing, through their sexual or comic bias, a release from tensions imposed by the moral and social code (Dupire and Tressan 1955), or leading to a fuller participation in social life.
²²
They are also like proverbs, sometimes used as an indirect means of saying something without the risk involved in stating it explicitly. These points have been frequently mentioned. Less common are the incidental functions of the more complex riddles as a form of communication, an esoteric accomplishment associated with initiation, and the encouragement of either sharing or competitiveness implicit in various forms of riddling. In the various societies these indirect functions of riddle-asking have greater or lesser significance. What all seem to share, however, is the explicit assumption that riddles, or at least the simple form of riddles, are primarily for entertainment and, unlike proverbs, not for any deeper purpose.

IV

Like proverbs, riddles represent a concise form of conventionally stereotyped expression. Though in some ways riddles can be regarded as a relatively minor and crude form of art, suitable merely for children, they nevertheless have some relevance for the general literary background. This comes out partly through the connections of riddles with literary forms like proverbs, epigram, praise names, and rhetoric. More significantly, the imagery and poetic comment of even the simple riddles are clearly part of the general literary culture. Insight into the nature of people’s behaviour can be expressed in a poem or a story—or in a riddle. The Kgatla say ‘Tell me: two civet cats which when they fight are not to be separated—It is a married couple’, while the Kamba show their insight in ‘Matters of importance—Children’s secrets’ (Schapera 1932: 227; Lindblom iii, 1934: 18). There is the Ila comment on humankind with ‘It is far—And it’s a long way to God!’, and the Bambara and Lamba express their view of man in ‘Quelle est la plus rapide de toutes les choses?—La pensée’, and ‘That which digs abut in the deserted village—The heart’ (which always turns to think of the past) (Smith and Dale ii, 1920: 330; Travelé 1923: 51; Cole-Beuchat 1957: 146). That paradox too can be conveyed vividly in the brief words of a riddle can
be illustrated from the Hausa ‘A prince on an old mat—A kola nut’ in which we are given a vivid picture of the way the beautiful pink or white kola-nut, so valued a commodity, are exposed for sale in the market on a piece of old matting (Fletcher 1912: 51).

Most of all riddle, however simple, involve a play of images, visual and acoustic, through which insights and comment can be expressed. In this way, even this very minor form of art, with its own stylistic peculiarities in different cultures, has its part to play in the richness of oral literature in African societies.
²³

Footnotes

1
   ‘Good riddles do, in general, provide us with satisfactory metaphors: for metaphors imply riddles, and therefore a good riddle can furnish a good metaphor’ (quoted in Georges and Dundes 1963: 116).

2
   The local word for riddle sometimes also covers other forms of literature, e.g. Yoruba
alo
(riddle, story), Efik
nke
(story, riddle, tongue-twister, proverb), but it is common for there to be a distinct term (sometimes in addition to a more general one), e.g. in Nyanja, Mbundu, Dogon, Lyele, etc.

3
   There are a few genuine exceptions to this, but some of the apparently interrogative forms that are sometimes published seem to be due to the European collector’s conscious or unconscious imposition of the form more familiar to him. The great majority of these who have explicitly paid attention to the form of riddles in Africa are agreed that the typical pattern is not an interrogative one (For some exceptions see Simmons 1955: 422; Bascom 1949: 7ff. (Yoruba)).

4
   The initial statement that poses the problem will be referred to as question even though this usage is clearly not strictly accurate.

5
   Arnott 1957: 381. This article is one of the best analyses of African riddles and is drawn on largely here.

6
   Not all the so-called ‘tone riddles’ he gives are, in fact, characterized by marked resemblance in tone. Efik ‘tone riddles’ on Simmons’s own showing (1958) include several with ‘dissimilar tones’, so that it may be misleading to overemphasize the tonal aspect and ignore other possible analogies such as, perhaps, rhythm or similarities in structure between question and answer.

7
   Referred to as
devinettes-proverbes
by Comhaire-Sylvain (1949
b
).

8
   Messenger gives eighteen other examples of these proverb-riddles, with full explanations of each.

9
   cf. also praise names in Lyele riddling (Nicolas 1954: 1015) and in Efik (Simmons: 422).

10
  A somewhat similar riddle-type classification is found in the Galla hymn in which six ‘wonders’ are listed (Chadwicks iii, 1940: 553).

11
  Especially Georges and Dundes 1963 (from whom the following examples are taken) and Gowlett 1966. (For an alternative analysis and critique of Georges and Dundes see Scott 1965).

12
  For further details and elucidation see articles cited and further references given there.

13
  See instances throughout this chapter and the discussion in Gowlett, op. cit. For an exception to this, see a number of the Yoruba riddles discussed by Bascom, which are based on a pattern of ‘two statements which appear to be mutually contradictory, incongruous or impossible’ (Bascom 1949: 4). There are also a number of scattered exceptions, including some of those cited in this chapter.

14
  Doke 1947: 118. On the different forms of questions and answers in Bantu riddles see Cole-Beuchat 1957: 137–42.

15
  Names of other animals are contrasting, however, surprisingly uncommon in the question part of riddles, with their frequent appearance in stories and proverbs.

16
  On linguistic structure see Cole-Beuchat 1957: 142ff.

17
  e.g. the three versions of the Limba acoustic riddle where the ideophone
kikirikokori
suggests the great size of a pregnant woman. (Finnegan 1967: 339)

18
  On time and place for riddles in Bantu see especially Cole-Beuchat 1957: 133–5.

19
  See also Doke 1947: 117; Werner in Hollis 1917: 135–6; Cole-Beuchat 1957: 137.

20
  Nakene 1943: 127. See also the use of riddles in initiation schools in Kenya (Lambert 1962–3
b
: 17).

21
  As in the ‘structural’ interpretation by Hamnett 1967.

22
  For an excellent discussion of this last point see Blacking 1961.

23
  Though riddles tend to be recorded in rather smaller numbers than proverbs, there is still a large number of collections, too many to catalogue here. Useful bibliographies can be found in Doke 1947, Nicolas 1954, Cole-Beuchat 1957, Bascom 1964. See also Aranzadi 1962 and, among many others short articles, Jacobs 1962
b
, du Toit 1966, Ittmann 1930, Bynon 1966–67.

16. Oratory, Formal Speaking, and other Stylized Forms

Oratory and rhetoric: Burundi; Limba. Prayers, curses, etc. Word play and verbal formulas. Names
.

I

The art of oratory is in West Africa carried to a remarkable pitch of perfection. At the public palavers each linguist [official spokesman] stands up in turn and pours forth a flood of speech, the readiness and exuberance of which strikes the stranger with amazement, and accompanies his words with gestures so various, graceful, and appropriate that it is a pleasure to look on, though the matter of the oration cannot be understood. These oratorical displays appear to afford great enjoyment to the audience, for every African native is a born orator and a connoisseur of oratory, a fact that becomes very manifest in the Courts of Justice in the Protectorate, where the witnesses often address the juries in the most able and unembarrassed manner; I have even seen little boys of eight or ten hold forth to the court with complete self-possession and with an ease of diction and a grace of gesture that would have struck envy into the heart of an English member of Parliament (R. A. Freeman on his visit to Ashanti in 1888, quoted in Wolfson 1958: 193)

This comment on Ashanti rhetoric in the nineteenth century could be paralleled by similar remarks about the oratorical ability of many African peoples. Of the Bantu as a whole a linguist writes that they are ‘born orators; they reveal little reticence or difficulty about expression in public. They like talking. They like hearing themselves in an assembly …’ (Doke 1948: 284). We hear too of the significance of oratory among the un-centralized Anang Ibibio, (Messenger 1959; 1960: 229) or Ibo of Eastern Nigeria. Of the Ibo, indeed, Achebe has stated categorically that ‘the finest examples of prose occur not in those forms [folktales, legends, proverbs, and riddles] but in
oratory and even in the art of good conversation …. Serious conversation and oratory … call for an original and individual talent and at their best belong to a higher order’ (Achebe in Whiteley 1964: vii). Similar comments on the relevance of oratory could be multiplied.
¹
It is not in fact surprising that many peoples who do not use the written word for formalized transactions or artistic expression should have developed the oral skill of public speaking to perform these functions.

Yet for all the passing references to the significance of oratory, there seems to be little detailed documentation on the actual practice of public speaking as a skill in its own right. It is true that oratory, a form in which oral characteristics are of the essence, does not possess the same easily recognized ‘literary’ qualifications that can be discerned, in, say, panegyric poetry or fictional narrative where parallels in literate cultures are easy to find. Oratory falls between, on the one hand, highly conventional and recognized literary expression and, on the other, informal everyday conversation. But even though the line between rhetorical and informal speech is not easy to draw, oratory in many African societies would seem to deserve further consideration than it has yet received. The speeches of classical antiquity have, in one form or another, long been counted as one form of literary expression with aesthetic as well as purely practical appeal, and it is not ridiculous to regard these as comparable to some of the oratory of African societies. Though little detailed material has been published and the account given here is thus exceedingly thin, it seems worth including a few points and examples, not least if this leads to further investigation.

In Africa, as in antiquity, one of the commonest contexts for public speaking is that of a law case, a formalized occasion which allows both litigants and judges to display their rhetorical skill. Their conscious aims, doubtless, are clearly functional; but aesthetic considerations are also involved, if only to add to the persuasiveness of the speech. Some of these speeches are highly sophisticated and skilled. We often hear of the use of proverbs on such occasions to appeal to the audience or make a point with extra forcefulness. In the case of the Anang Ibibio their famous eloquence arises largely from their skilful use of proverbial maxims, particularly in court. Long speeches are given by plaintiff and defendant to explicate their cases, lasting as long as an hour each and listened to with rapt attention. The Ibibio audience is
particularly appreciative of a speech that abounds in original or unusual proverbs to capture their interest, or that cleverly introduces an apposite saying at just the crucial moment (Messenger 1959 and
Ch. 15
above).

Figure 24. Thronged Limba law court, site of oratory (photo Ruth Finnegan).

The formalized and literary aspects of legal rhetoric can even take the extreme and unusual form of a portion of the speeches being delivered as song. This is apparently sometimes the case in Mbala litigation in the Congo. The formal interchange between the opponents is partly conducted through spoken argument, but this is then followed by a snatch of allegorical song in which the supporters of each party join with voice and drum, the two sides drawn up to face each other. An extract from one case is quoted as follows:

Political discussions are also obvious occasions for oratory—indeed the two are often closely related. At the local level at least, there are not infrequently rules about the order in which such politicians must speak, and accepted conventions of style, content, and set phraseology which speakers more or less follow. Such political speeches often shade into other formal and public occasions involving, say, speeches of welcome, religious injunctions, sermons, harangues, or solemn marriage transactions.
³

A few of the orators seem to be real professionals, as in the case of the Ashanti ‘linguists’ described by Freeman in the quotation given earlier. These men were the spokesmen of kings and chiefs among the Akan. Not only were they charged with repeating the words of their patron after him, acting as a herald to make it clear to all his audience and to add to his utterances the extra authority of remoteness, but they were also expected, in the words of Dan-quah, to ‘perfect’ the speech of a chief who was not sufficiently eloquent, and to elaborate his theme for him. The linguist should not add any new subject-matter, but

he may extend the phrases and reconstruct the sentences and intersperse the speech with some of the celebrated witty and philosophical reflections for which they are justly celebrated to the credit of both himself and his Chief …

(Danquah 1928: 42).

In another description:

When the Linguist rises up to speak in public, he leans upon the King’s gold cane, or a subordinate linguist holds it in front of him. He is going to make a speech now, and it is sure to be a happy effort. It will sparkle with wit and humour. He will make use freely of parables to illustrate points in his speech. He will indulge in epigrams, and all the while he will seem not to possess any nerves—so cool, so collected, so self-complacent! He comes of a stock used to public speaking and public functions.

(Hayford 1903: 70).

The use of heralds whose sole function is to repeat the words of the speaker and thus endow them with greater dignity or volume is not without other parallels in West Africa, and is a practice that has lent itself well to the situations, under colonial rule at least, where the speeches of administrator or missionary were transferred, sentence by sentence, through the intermediary of an interpreter.

Most speeches, however, seem in fact to be made not by professionals but by experts who acquired their skills in the course of carrying out their various political, religious, or just good-neighbourly duties in the society. Such men—like the Limba ‘big men’ described below—are recognized by others as skilled in speaking, reconciling, and persuading, and it is partly through such skill that they retain their positions; but this is merely one aspect of their specialized functions as political leaders, judges, or public figures. There are also those who merely possess a general ability to speak well—people skilled more in the art of conversation and the use of proverb and metaphor to enrich their speech than in the more formal arts of public oratory. There is no general rule about the background and training of those regarded as particularly eloquent, for this varies according to the structure of the society in question.

How far oratory varies not only between societies but even in different groups within one state may be illustrated from the kingdom of Burundi, one of the few areas in which some detailed investigation of rhetoric has been carried out. This can be followed by a brief account of the very different society of the Limba of Sierra Leone.

Traditional Burundi (for the time described by Albert (1964, based on fieldwork 1955–57). was a highly organized state, marked by an extreme degree of hierarchy between the various ranks in the community—in particular between the cattle-keeping lords (the Tutsi) and the farmer-peasant class (the Hutu). The different classes have their own special speech patterns, and there are also stylized ways of address considered appropriate according to the status, sex, or age of the speaker, and to the particular personal or political relationships of those directly involved. The rules of rhetoric can thus be closely related to the social and political structure.

In Burundi, eloquence is thought to be of the greatest significance, both practical and aesthetic, whether it is used in legal cases, political transactions, petitions, the stylized phrases of polite intercourse, or the art of elegant conversation:

Speech is explicitly recognised as an important instrument of social life; eloquence is one of the central values of the cultural world-view; and the
way of life affords frequent opportunity for its exercise … Argument, debate, and negotiation, as well as elaborate literary forms are built into the organization of society as means of gaining one’s ends, as social status symbols, and as skills enjoyable in themselves

(Albert 1964: 35).

It is among the upper classes above all that the ideals of oratorical ability are most stressed. The very concept of good breeding and aristocracy,
imfura,
implies ‘speaking well’ as one of its main characteristics. Aristocratic boys are even given formal education in speech-making from the age of about ten. Albert describes the content of their training:

Composition of impromptu speeches appropriate in relations with superiors in age or status; formulas for petitioning a superior for a gift; composition of amazina, praise-poems; quick-witted, self-defensive rhetoric intended to deflect, an accusation or the anger of a superior. Correct formulas for addressing social inferiors, for funeral orations, for rendering judgment in a dispute, or for serving as an intermediary between an inferior petitioner and one’s feudal superior are learned in the course of time as, with increasing age and maturity, each type of activity becomes appropriate. Training includes mastery of a suitable, elegant vocabulary, of tone of voice and its modulation, of graceful gestures with hand and spear, of general posture and appropriate bodily displacements, of control of eye-contacts, especially with inferiors, and above all, of speedy summoning of appropriate and effective verbal response in the dynamics of interpersonal relations.

(Ibid.: 37)

As a result of such formal training and unconscious assimilation of the practice of eloquence, Tutsi men of the upper classes acquire a consciousness of superior education and elegance of speech. The accepted stereotype, quite often lived up to in practice, is that the aristocrat possesses grace and rhetorical ability in speech and bearing, marked particularly by his characteristic dignity and reserve in public address.

The formal speech of peasants is expected to be rather different. Social pressures ensure that peasants are aware of the tactlessness of producing an elegant aristocratic-type speech before a superior. In their own strata, however, they may speak with equal dignity and ability—for instance, as judge, in council, or in funeral orations. There are some set differences. The Hutu use a different accent, and the figures of speech tend to reflect a peasant rather than an aristocratic background and to be drawn from agriculture rather than herding or the courtly life. ‘The gestures of the muscular arms and heavy set body and the facial expressions will not be like those of the long-limbed, slim-boned … Batutsi herders, but they will not lack studied grace and dignity (Ibid.: 42).