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| patrons. Several Mogbuama citizens have cattle here and also at a much larger wolo at Boaba to the east....Cattle
are slaughtered when a prominent figure needs to hold a major celebration. An animal might be sold if a political
patron runs into urgent diffiulties requiring a large cash sum" (p. 107) The use of cattle for ceremonial slaughter is common throughout Sierra Leone and investment in cattle by crop farmers is widespread. In Koinadugu District, as elsewhere, farmers do not seem willing, or able, to herd their own animals. (*34) In many respects, Haja's position as an absentee herd-owner, fits in with the general Futa pattern outlined above. Haja brought to her marriage a small number of cattle. Sometime after this it appears that Alimamy Jalloh, her husband, acted to establish Haja in her own warri, with twenty cows and three bulls. Haja was never explicit whether these cattle were a gift to her, or whether her husband had drawn this stock out from a pre-existing herd to create a socially, rather than economically, viable new herding unit. I should note in passing that this strategy is not uncommon, and many Futa traders in Kabala have taken either Kebu or Tellico women as wives, and placed them in cattle camps. What appears to be unusual in this instance, is that Haja subsequently left the cattle camp but continued to add to her herd through cattle purchased from the profits of rice trading, and further gifts of cattle from her husband. (See above) From the time of its inception, a succession of herdsmen had been responsible for Haja's herd. One former herdsman had, over the years, managed to build up sufficient stock to leave, and to create his own herding unit. Others had also come and gone. Later, (some of?) Haja's cattle were "minded" by Chernor Wurie, until he too created a separate warri when the joint herds became too large to manage. Although, Chernor Wurie continued to be involved in decisions concerning the herd, day to day responsibilities were consequently given over to Wurie Juwe, and Mama Jeng, the hired herdsman. In most cases, the arrangements between cattle owner and cattle herder are unambiguous, at least with respect to the ownership of the herd. As I have indicated, in many instances, the relationship is clearly one of employer and employee, and often entails the adoption of socially recognised patron-client roles. Haja's situation was rather different, and complicated by the facts that she was a female herd owner, and that she was childless. Many of the broader issues relating to these "facts" have already been discussed in detail, and there is little need to repeat them here. Instead, I shall turn my attention to examine how these and other "complications" affected Haja's attempts to maintain the type, and the degree of control over her herd, that would be expected by most absentee herd-owners. Firstly, the composition of Haja's herd was similar to that of most Futa traders in that the majority of her herd had derived from cattle which had been privately acquired, rather than inherited, as is usually the case among the more traditional herders. It appears that cattle herds developed in this way are more likely to be recognised as the property of a single individual rather than a family unit. (See below) However, in Haja's case her claims to exclusive rights over the herd were met by her kinsmen's counter claims and arguments, which drew attention to the fact that with no children of her own, control of the herd would pass, ultimately, into their hands. This was Wurie Juwe's opinion: "Haja worries too much about her cows. If one was lost, she would cry for months, which isn't good when you have over one hundred cattle. If she |
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| lost one or two cows a year, that wouldn't be bad. Haja forgets that when she dies, the property will be her family's.
She's forgetting her family concerns". Her right, as a woman, to own cattle was not at issue. (See, for example, Appendix 1.) However, it is clear that Haja's active involvement in management decisions concerning her cattle was hindered by the fact that she was a woman, and, on many occasions, necessarily dependent on the services of male go-betweens and intermediaries to inform others of her wishes, her plans and her decisions. But, so often physically excluded by social mores from being in attendance at the moots and meetings where agreements were made, Haja often found herself out-manoeuvred, and her own wishes rejected. Even in cases of serious dispute which would then be brought to, and discussed in front of Haja, etiquette often prevented her from taking an active part in the proceedings; often she would listen as she sat, her head turned away from the men, staring out of the back door. But the frustrations that arose from these social constraints, which underlined male responsibility in herd management decisions, were added to by Haja's inability to reconcile a number of conflicting and contradictory issues concerning her position. Take for example, her obvious reluctance to act as "benefactress" towards her dependent kinsman and those in her employ. As I observed above, visits to the warri by absentee herd owners are not only customary in that they are often coincidental with, say, Islamic festivals; the visits can be interpreted as being an important part of the ritual cycle of warri life itself, through which small and comparatively isolated communities are linked to wider society. Haja no longer visited her cattle camp, and seldom, I believe, sent anything by the way of presents. But clearly, she was in a difficult situation. On the one hand, by distancing herself from the warri, I feel that Haja sought to strengthen her position as a private absentee herd-owner; in other words as a Futa, rather than Kebu herd-owner. But her isolationist strategy, was achieved at the expense of her own kinsmen's loyalty, who felt that her interest in her cattle should be matched by her interest in their own well-being. Unlike most urban herd owners, Haja was not able to help and support her employees and dependants without also facing their pressing claims to have rights in the control of her property. By contrast, Haja Fatmata was confined to a wheelchair and unable to visit the warri where her cattle were kept. She admitted that this was a real problem; her herdsmen "ate" her cows and goats, and she was misinformed on the numbers of livestock that were born. Moreover, like Haja Aisaitu, she found that her herdsmen would often try to dissuade her from selling her cattle. Haja Fatmata grumbled that the herdsmen rarely brought her butter or milk, or a chicken on praydays. But Haja Fatmata's cattle were looked after by hired herdsmen, not by kinsmen. The herdsmen had their own substantial herds; nonetheless, the removal of Haja Fatmata's cattle, her ultimate sanction, would have greatly reduced the income their families received from the sale of milk. Furthermore, although Haja Fatmata provided the warri with two bags of salt every two months and rice during the "hungry season", she had not "paid" her herdsmen for two years (traditionally a male or female cow). Through her patronage, Haja Fatmata was able to maintain adequate control of her resources. Indeed, she was able to laugh at the "rogueishness" of the "boys" (her two herdsmen, full brothers, were aged between 25 and 30); "When they reach forty five, they'll become Chernor and become a little better but, by then their own sons will be young men". She then smiled at the prospect of the sons stealing from their fathers. |
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Notes to chapter six.
Holt notes:-"The conditions at the station are at the moment not good and equate more or less with what
could be expected to occur with low level management. There is the added problem at Musaia of heavy infestation
of Sida sp. due to overgrazing in some areas. |
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mortality rate of 7% for animals under two years old. Mortality rates tend to be higher under village conditions.
Holt (1973) reported 23.5% mortality from birth to one year accompanied by a 5% abortion rate." (p.44) This
is strange! Is it possible that Holt's "guesstimate" of "up to 15%" was overlooked and substituted
by figures relating to Musaia Livestock Station? Perhaps the authors misread "low level management" as
"local management"? Although the context of Holt's comments are perfectly clear; he is criticising the
standard of management at the livestock station.
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| 6) I was told that Chernor would probably move to a separate site the following season. My data suggests that among
the "traditional" pastoral sub-groups, intergenerational stock-transfers tend towards a pattern of "anticipatory
inheritance", in which "herd resources are transferred from the senior generation to the junior generation
during the lifetime of the seniors" (Burnham 1979, p.163) Burnham observes that this is a feature of a number
of Fulani communities "relatively wealthy" in cattle, and notes the common practice of an infant boy
being given his first gifts of cattle from his father at his marriage ceremony. (ibid) In Sierra Leone, infant
girls may also receive gifts of cattle (see above). Burnham also cites Dupire's (1970) description of marriage
prestations and Stenning (1958) who demonstrates how the intergenerational transfer of cattle is aimed at the creation
of independent domestic units. (And see Blench 1985 p.5 and passim) 7) "Protection" (in Krio) was the word used by my informant. It appears a common arrangement for a small stock holder to ally in this way. There are a number of advantages for both parties: "safety in numbers" is an obvious factor, mutual assistance in herding tasks is another. But such a close association is open to exploitation. On my first visit to Chernor Wurie's warri an adult milch cow was stolen from Chernor Barrie's small herd. The cow had evidently been roped in the corral at night, and dragged through the fence. Members of Chernor Wurie's family joined in the search the next day, but the cow was not found. Whilst Chernor Wurie considered the possibility of loaning Chernor Barrie a replacement cow, Liru, one of |
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| Chernor Wurie's teenage sons confided in me that he was "not surprised" that the cow had been stolen!
Chernor Barrie's son had allegedly been associating with a girlfriend of a well-known cattle rustler in Kabala.
The stolen cow, Liru suggested was a mark of revenge. I could not but presume that Liru was implicated in the "crime",
although he accompanied me back to Kabala the next day, ostensibly, to find out whether that cow had yet been slaughtered,
and whether it was possible to secure its safe release. However, the cow was not, as far as I know, returned. Cattle theft is a serious problem. It is undoubtedly well organised and, as a number of "cases" which arose during my fieldwork demonstrated, a number of "big men" in the community are involved. Cattle theft is not merely the result of occasional and opportunistic theft by young men eager to have a little extra cash to spend in town, the explanation offered by a number of elders. 8) There are a number of similarities between the Fula herders of Sierra Leone and those of Jos Plateau, northern Nigeria. Stenning notes:- "Semi-sedentarisation may not necessarily be the result of poverty of cattle. For example, Pastoral Fulani moved on to the Jos Plateau in northern Nigeria as recently as 1910. They found there a high, fly free, grazing ground with abundant water and pasture. Their seasonal movements decreased in scope and their herds multiplied...Favourable pastoral conditions made extensive seasonal movements unnecessary; the need to establish permanent rights to wet-season pasture...made a form of settlement desirable. A considerable number of Pastoral Fulani in this area have in the last twenty years or so established permanent household sites around which some cattle graze throughout the year, while the remainder move down the valleys to the savannah lowlands in the dry season. The Pastoral Fulani surround their settlements with gardens of Indian corn which are cleared, planted, tended and harvested by Pagan labourers paid in cash...On the Jos Plateau, it is the cattle-owners with the largest families who adopt this form of settlement...Semi-sedentarisation is here correlated, not with poverty in cattle, but with its converse". (1959, p.8) 9) Occasionally Fula herders spoke of moving "near the line" (by the road). Patterns of transhumance cannot be understood without considering factors beyond "the requirements of the herd". "A desire to participate in or at least observe the more exciting life on the road", has been noted as the motivation for movement of small villages, or parts of villages, to the road. (Dorjahn 1975, p.31) This is, clearly, a widespread phenomenon and not limited to agricultural communities. (And see Gulliver 1975). 10) At one long-established warri I visited, the two seasonal sites were separated by a mere six hundred yards. In between these two camps lay another small settlement, surrounded by a large cultivated field. The whole area was enclosed by a sturdy fence. The herd owner lived permanently at this settlement, along with a Limba wife. (Three other huts were inhabited by non-kin.) His three Fula wives resided at the cattle-camps, transferring up and down every season. In general, the seasonal movements of Fula herders puzzled me and I often felt that my informants over-emphasised the practical advantages of maintaining an, albeit limited, pattern of transhumance. In retrospect I now appreciate that "transhumance is itself ceremonial". (Burton 1987, p.44. original emphasis.) Burton observes that pastoral transhumance is (for the Atuot of southern Sudan) an "engrossing, meaningful, and satisfying experience and, indeed, is the essence of their own |
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