One of the most obvious points to be made about the composition of the household is that all of its members were almost entirely dependent economically on Haja. It has already been noted that Haja was independently wealthy, but we have not yet examined her source of wealth, or the nature of her independence. These two factors are closely inter-linked. Haja obtained the vast majority of her income from her cattle, which numbered around 120 head. Some income was also drawn from rent on the two houses she owned in addition to her own. In theory all proceeds from these sources went directly to Haja although, as I explain below, it is particularly difficult for a woman to maintain complete control of her property interests, without the intermediacy of a man somewhere along the line. Haja came from a family wealthy in cattle. As is customary, upon her marriage with Alimamy Jalloh, Haja had been given cattle by both her husband and her own natal kin. (*9) Whilst these cattle in turn reproduced, Haja also adopted a deliberate strategy of increasing her stock by using the profits obtained from rice trading to purchase further animals. Her herd was also added to by periodic inheritance. Following her husband's advice Haja also purchased an area of land within Kabala and over the years built a total of three houses, which she then rented out. Haja explained to me that Alimamy Jalloh had actively encouraged his wives to develop their own resources. Even a wealthy man does not wish the burden of too many economically unproductive women attached to his household. But, over and above this, Alimamy Jalloh was, by all accounts, particularly concerned that his first three wives, none of whom were to bear children, would have the wherewithal to support themselves in the event of his death. Just as Haja's wealth increased under Alimamy Jalloh's guidance, with the passing years she also was to achieve a position of some respect and status. Her increasing fortune was an important factor in achieving a position of respect within the community. In the mid-1970's Haja made the pilgrimage to Mecca, after which she acquired the right to be addressed by the title "haja". (*10) She was a senior wife to the Fula Headman, a position of some influence and responsibility. To a large extent the status accorded to women is delimited by that ascribed to the husband, although, as we shall see a little later on, increasing age brings with it 'opportunities' to weaken this aspect of marital dependence. When I was discussing male-female relations, a phrase often repeated by the men was that "a man has to go before". This phrase asserted the general principle that, in matters beyond everyday household affairs, men were to be regarded as the chief decision-makers. Of course, beneath this simple gloss lay a more complex reality, but the phrase served to remind that there were "limits" to what was regarded as acceptable female self-sufficiency. The death of Alimamy Jalloh in 1980 was an important catalyst for the latter development of Haja's household, however it should be remembered that the household as I came to know it in 1984 had developed over many years . Whilst it is difficult to know with certainty the domestic situation prior to the death of Alimamy Jalloh, it is clear is that during the period following it, certain inherent tensions and conflicts of interest quickly came to the surface.

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During her marriage to Alimamy Jalloh, Haja was encouraged to build her own house, partly for her future security. Alimamy Jalloh was urging that traditional Fula residence patterns be followed, whereby each wife has a separate dwelling place. (See the information on residence patterns in Chapter Six below.) This ideal is far more difficult to achieve in town, where shortage of suitable land and the cost often proves prohibitive. More often than not wives are given separate rooms within a single household, and only the wealthiest men are likely to be able to reproduce the traditional ideal. In a similar vein, the manner in which Haja was able to gather dependants under her roof was also brought about, partly at least, by the activation of traditional fostering practices. Fostering of children (ne'ugol,F., to mind or to raise) is widespread. Traditionally, it is said, "children may go and live with their grandmothers". But, the practice is commonly extended to include other female kinswomen, whose households may also be experiencing a shortage of children, temporary or otherwise. As noted earlier, through the practice of "minding" children, Haja had been able to achieve and maintain a normal domestic role. (*11) She had fulfilled, rather than contradicted, customary practice. The ambiguity of her position, and hence the conflicts that surrounded her, lay in the extent to which Haja had managed to achieve, and maintain an independent position following the death of her first husband and during her subsequent marriage. In some people's eyes she transgressed what was regarded as the normal limit of a woman's responsibility. After 1980 she not only resisted interference in the running of what she regarded as her affairs, but was able to do so with some degree of success. It would be an over-simplification to suggest that Haja Aisaitu had "become like a man". On the contrary, her interests were still confined to the household. She eschewed the community politics, and, for example, took no interest in the "Women's Committee". Against this, there is a sense in which, within her household, Haja Aisaitu had taken on a male role. Not long after my arrival I was asking Kindi to explain who did what around the house. One of the points he made was that "Haja is a sort of step-father (to us older ones). Well she is both father and mother." (This statement was made in English.) I have already noted how the practice of "minding" can be activated as a means of redistributing children to those individuals and families who face a shortage. Redistribution of children, in effect entails a redistribution of labour. However, it is not necessarily the case that children who are moved in this manner, have been actively sought or "begged". As can be seen from Haja's household, there are a number of substantial benefits to be obtained, by both parents and their children from these arrangements. Firstly, a family may find themselves overburdened with a surplus of children, and may seek to place their children with kinsmen. But some kinsmen are clearly better options than others. It would be grossly unfair to suggest that Haja was seen solely as a resource: she was also greatly loved and cared for. However, Haja was well aware of the powers of patronage. Fostering your children to Haja could be seen as an attractive proposition in a number of ways. Haja was wealthy and, having no children of her own, could be expected to take good care of children placed in her care. As a widow of the Alimamy, she was "well connected". More impersonally, perhaps, Kabala is a social and educational centre of some importance. Links to town are seen as valuable for the services and resources they can offer. In short, Haja had no difficulty in recruiting

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dependants. However, these very factors that made recruitment so easy, paradoxically, also account for the household's fragility and instability. Haja not only had to cope with pressures external to her domestic unit, but also with those emanating from within. As far as I could comprehend no formal agreements were made between Haja and her dependants and/or their own parents regarding the nature or period of care. I was not made aware of any linguistic distinctions between, for example, what we would regard as fostering and adoption. (The Fula term ne'ugol, as noted previously, corresponds to the Krio verb "men" i.e. to mind, and both are used with reference to the raising of children and of animals). The turn-over of personnel, even during my short stay, attests to the fact that Haja's dependants only formed a temporary attachment to the household. Sooner or later the girls would marry and move away. The younger children were constantly discussing the possibility of their being withdrawn from school by their parents, and of being taken to live elsewhere. In this context, it is worth remembering that many of the Fula in Kabala were migrants and traders. There was a great deal of movement and fluidity in the population, as the above data on Haja's own household shows. Furthermore, many occasions arose where Haja's dependants faced a real conflict of responsibility, often exacerbated by her insistence on making it clear on whose kindness and generosity they were presently relying. Haja's main tactic to encourage fidelity was to ensure that her dependants were well fed and happy. However, she would often use ridicule, especially towards the younger children, if, for example, they were being particularly uncooperative, or it seemed as if they were taking too much interest in another household. Binta Bobo, who remained particularly unsettled, frequently visited her mother. On these occasions Haja would often jeer, calling Binta a "bonga head". (A "bonga" being a dried fish, and regarded, by Haja at least, as being the staple diet of Temne). In a similar fashion, Haja would frequently remind Hamidu of his "Tellico" origins. Hamidu's mother came from this particular Fula sub-group. Since the Tellico are regarded by many other Fula as being quite outlandish and rather uncivilised, Haja was hardly being complimentary. I became quickly enmeshed in a variety of subtle responsibilities to Haja that, in the end, seriously threatened to limit the nature of my research. Visits I planned to other places were certainly not encouraged. Even my long planned visit to Haja's own cattle camp was delayed due to a vague non-cooperation on her part. I used to get "told off" if I was out too long. "You've been out with your other woman", she would joke, "we don't approve". After about six months Esther and I moved out of Haja's household, to share a house, finally, with a VSO teacher. In many respects this was neutral ground. The house was a mere forty yards away, and I remained very much under Haja's patronage, (see below) but I found myself much freer to come and go as I wished. (*12) It is, perhaps, not surprising that amongst Haja's dependants I frequently heard complaints and counter-complaints of alleged favouritism. Among the younger members, especially, the complaints invariably revolved around how much more food the others were getting. Similarly, Haja frequently let one or more of the children sleep with her on her bed at night (it was a double bed and, having two mattresses, was very soft!). This too was the cause of voiced discontent. It was, however, very rare to hear these kind of complaints expressed with reference to kinship. On one of

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the few occasions, Hamidu complained that Mariama and Sirra were the favourites, and argued that this was wrong since, in his eyes, himself and "Little Haja" were more closely related to Haja Aisaitu. (See diagram 3:2.) Sadly, towards the end of my fieldwork, Haja unexpectedly died. It was only then that the question as to whether those individuals who had lived with Haja had any special rights or expectations with regard the division of her property arose. It was Kindi, rather than the younger children, who was able to articulate the problem now confronting them. He did so in the following terms. He complained that those who had been "close" to Haja and had been "minded" by her were now being neglected. Others who weren't so close were being made so through the inheritance, which passed primarily to Haja's brother, a herder who lived at Fadugu. (*13) Kindi expressed the closeness he had felt to Haja in terms of feeling and emotion. His relations with his own mother, he added, were polite, but that was all. He couldn't laugh and joke with her as he had done with Haja. With Haja's sudden death the household came to an abrupt end. Whilst Kindi planned to move back to Kabala to live in what he now, optimistically, called "the family home", the other former dependants were scattered far and wide. Aisaitu and Habi planned to return to their respective mothers. Haja, Sirra, Binta Bobo and Mariama did so. Before I left the field, plans were being made to take Hamidu to Kono, to live with relatives there. v. The house and the market. One question yet to be posed concerns the "typicality" or otherwise of my data about Haja's household. Concentrating, as I have, on one household may be a useful technique through which to introduce one's ethnographic data, but inevitably some sort of balance needs to be made between the rather specific factors relating to Haja and the more general points that the data regarding her household raises. With this in mind I shall continue by examining some of the ways in which Fula women in Kabala are able to achieve varying degrees of financial independence. A visit to the Market in Kabala town, quickly establishes the extent to which women are active in marketing and trading. (A brief description of Kabala Market is given in Chapter One.) But the noise and bustle here should not conceal the fact that a great deal of part-time petty trading also takes place from the verandahs of peoples' houses. (cf. Hill 1969) Contrary to most stereotypes of Islamic communities, Fula women are, in general, very active commercially. (*14) Fula women are not subject to veiling or seclusion, and everyday relations between the sexes are not structured by fundamentalist interpretations of Koranic theology. Some jealous husbands excepted, women are not only allowed but, as in the instance of Haja Aisaitu, often encouraged by their husbands to engage in trading of some sort. (*15) The Fula have the reputation, among the other ethnic groups, as skilful traders: a reputation not altogether unjustified. In comparison to these other groups, for reasons I shall examine below, the Fula are undoubtedly wealthy. Fula women who wish to trade are thus likely to have access to capital resources. Whilst their businesses

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seldom reach the size that would necessitate full-time commitment, there are, within the market square, two or three stores run by Fula women on a full-time basis. But for the most part, women's involvement in trading is of a temporary and/or part-time nature. Skills in trading can be learnt at an early age. An enterprising young mother, tied by her domestic commitments to the house, may send one or more of her children round the streets selling, for example, cakes, kerosene or soda soap. Children are carefully instructed as to the cost per item they should receive, and quickly learn to count the change. Inexperienced or particularly young children, rarely visit the market centre, and usually operate in the neighbourhood of their home. Profits from trading on this scale are small, both in terms of percentage profit and total income. There is much competition, and rarely room for profiteering. Occasionally a shortage of kerosene may create the opportunity for a fast turn-over with increased profits; but even this item is not regarded to be of such great necessity, as to allow an obviously greatly inflated price. Some children enjoy trading, others do not. Some are good at selling, others are not. From an early age children are tried and tested and their proficiency soon established. Women rather than men direct the labour of children. We noted earlier, and in reference to Haja's own childlessness, the importance of children in the everyday functioning of the household. Here we face the paradox that whilst in many respects childbearing limits the extent to which a woman is able to engage in extra-household activities, children may also be the means by which this limitation is overcome. (*16) Education has had some impact in the organisation of domestic labour, but the changes brought about by the extension of primary and secondary education have not been of critical importance. School children, at least until they reach fourteen or fifteen years of age, are rarely exempted from domestic chores. On the other hand, secondary education has effected changes in the career structures of many elder children, especially that of young men. I shall return to this issue a little later on. There are, then, few Fula women who have the choice or opportunity to pursue a full time career in trade. For the most part, women's trade activities are seasonal, opportunistic, and/or "targeted", in the sense that a certain amount of money is sought within a certain period of time. Many women have small farms or gardens, in and around Kabala, from which they gather produce for their own family's consumption. It is said, concerning the responsibilities of the two sexes, that "the wife should provide the sauce, the husband the rice". But it is often the case that money rather than food is in short supply, and female agricultural production is frequently aimed at supplementing household income, with cash crops rather than traditional subsistence crops being grown. It is difficult to characterise the financial arrangements that are made between husbands and their wives, or equally importantly, those made between co-wives. What is clear, is that the arrangements do vary extensively from household to household, reflecting differences in, for example, household income, position in the household development cycle as well as more personal and idiosyncratic factors. Among some of the poorer families, and often between young married couples, the ideal is sacrificed for a more rational arrangement. Thus, in some instances husband and wife are clearly partners, pooling their resources to make ends meet. More commonly, however, a more stringent gender division is maintained.

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I have already mentioned, albeit in piecemeal fashion, some of the practical constraints that limit the form and nature of women's commercial activities. The income derived from female commerce, although often a significant contribution to the household's budget, is seldom seen as threatening to male rights and responsibilities that ascribe to them the role of chief providers. The part-time and temporary nature of much female commerce, I think, serves to undervalue the real contribution made. On the other hand, despite ample and obvious evidence to the contrary, the attitude persists, that a man is permanently "at work", even when not engaged in income-generating activities. Whilst the degree to which a woman may financially support the wider household is delimited by social mores, it is seen as quite acceptable, so long as she does not neglect her other duties, for a woman to earn money to purchase items for herself and/or her own children. A good deal of women's' trading is aimed at the purchase of consumer items that fall outside the sphere of the man's everyday responsibilities. Although much pressure may be put on a husband to spend money on items such as new clothes for "pray-day", new cooking pots or mats, such claims may be resisted. But this pressure should not be interpreted as reflecting a greater female interest in consumer items. The fact of the matter is that women are, by and large, financially dependent, and, in addition, often see themselves as being in competition with their co-wives with regard to the allocation of their husband's resources. I have mentioned the limitations on female commerce, and the financial dependency that most women face, which probably contrasts with the impression given by the information presented on Haja. It is time to bring the two sets of observations into some alignment. Many possibilities exist for a woman to engage in permanent and more profitable trading. Generally speaking during the earliest years of marriage, especially for a first wife, a great deal of time will be spent in fulfilling household duties. But, as I have indicated, the burden of bearing and raising children is lightened over time. The labour of children is one important factor in the release of adult female labour. Similarly, over time, unless particularly poor, a husband is likely to marry again. It is common for co-wives to make agreements among themselves, regarding cooking arrangements and so forth, which releases female labour time. (*17) Whilst labour is an important consideration, so too is capital. Insufficient starting capital appears to be one factor that prevents women traders expanding into the more lucrative areas, for example marketing of manufactured goods. It is possible, of course, to build up one's business from very small inputs of initial capital. Indeed part of the current mythology surrounding the Fula in Sierra Leone recounts their ability to do just this. But the stories are, indeed, stories about self-made men. The types of trading activities engaged in by women are not of the same self-sacrificing entrepreneurial class. And since a good deal of female trading is of a target nature, profits and initial capital alike are often spent when the target has been reached. Regarding longer-term activities, for example the sale of farm produce on a periodic basis, the income generated is often too low to negate the possibility of building up any sizeable capital sum. Some women come to marriage with some form of wealth behind them, for example cattle as in the case of Haja, which they may then use to start up a business. Others

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