Chapter 15 of 33 · 3992 words · ~20 min read

Part 15

The population of the villages of Lukolela in January 1891 must have been not less than 6,000 people, but when I counted the whole population in Lukolela at the end of December 1896 I found it to be only 719, and I estimated from the decrease, as far as we could count up the number of known deaths during the year, that at the same rate of decrease in ten years the people would be reduced to about 400, but judge of my heartache when on counting them all again on Friday and Saturday last to find only a population of 352 people, and the death-rate rapidly increasing. I note also a decrease very appallingly apparent in the inland districts during the same number of years; three districts are well-nigh swept out (these are near to the river), and others are clearly diminished; so that if something is not soon done to give the people heart and remove their fear and trembling (conditions which generate fruitfully morbid conditions and proneness to attacks of disease), doubtless the whole place will be very soon denuded of its population. The pressure under which they live at present is crushing them; the food which they sadly need themselves very often must, under penalty, be carried to the State post, also grass, cane string, baskets for the “caoutchouc” (the last three items do not appear to be paid for); the “caoutchouc” must be brought in from the inland districts; their Chiefs are being weakened in their prestige and physique through imprisonment, which is often cruel, and thus weakened in their authority over their own people, they are put into chains for the shortage of manioc bread and “caoutchouc.”

In the riverine part of Lukolela we have done our very best as non-official members of the State to cope with disease in every way possible to us; but so far the officials of the State have never attempted even the feeblest effort to assist the natives of Lukolela to recover themselves or guard themselves in any way from disease. In times of small-pox, when no time can be lost in the interests of the community, I have, perhaps, gone sometimes beyond my rights as a private citizen in dealing with it. But there has always been the greatest difficulty in getting food for them (the patients) and nurses for them, even when the people were not compelled to take their food supply to the State post, but when food supplies and labour are compressed into one channel all voluntary philanthropy is paralyzed. It is quite in vain for us to teach these poor people the need of plenty of good food, for we appear to them as those who mock; they point to the food which must be taken to the post. A weekly tax of 900 brass rods’ worth of manioc bread from 160 women, half of whom are not capable of much hard and continuous work, does not leave much margin for them to listen to teaching concerning personal attention in matters of food. At present they are compelled to supply a number of workmen, and some of these are retained after their terms are completed against their will; the villages need the presence of their men, there are at present but eighty-two in the villages of Lukolela, and I can see the shadow of death over nearly twenty of them.[21]

The inland people and their Chiefs tremble when they must go down to the river, so much has been done latterly to shake their confidence, and this fear is not strengthening them physically, but undermining their constitutions, such as they are. They hate the compulsory “caoutchouc” business, and they naturally do their best to get away from it. If something is not quickly done to give these timid and disheartened people contentment and their home life assured to them, sickness will speedily remove many, and those who remain will look upon the white man, of whatever nation or position, as their natural enemy (it is not far from that now). Some have already sworn to die, be killed, or anything else rather than be forced to bring in “caoutchouc,” which spells imprisonment and subsequent death to them; what they hear as having been done they quite understand can be done to them, so they conclude they may as well die first as last. The State has fought with them twice already, if not more; but it is useless, they will not submit. A cave of Adullam is a thing not always easily reckoned with.

May I be permitted to seize the present opportunity of respectfully pleading on behalf of this people that their rights be respected, and that the attention as of a father to his children be sympathetically shown them? May I also be permitted to place before you a few suggestions which have been impelled into my mind face to face with this dying people of what is their need while medical inquiry goes forward, please God, to master this terrible scourge? I suggest the following as immediately needful for the riverine people:--

1. That the present small population of Lukolela be requested to vacate the present site of their dwellings, and form a community on the somewhat higher ground at present used for gardens, the soil of which has been impoverished by years of manioc growing. This is known by the name Ntomba; and that they be requested to clear the undergrowth on the beach, the sites of their present dwellings, and plant bananas, &c.

2. That no one known to have sleep-sickness be permitted to dwell on the new site; but all be removed to a site lower down the river; and that it shall be the duty of the people to supply their sick with the necessary food and caretakers. The islands are unsuitable, being uninhabitable for a large part of the year.

3. That they be compelled to bury their dead at a considerable distance from the dwellings, and to bury them in graves at least a fathom deep, and not as at present in shallow graves in close proximity to the houses.

4. That they be encouraged to build higher houses with more apertures for the ingress of sunshine and air in the daytime, and with floors considerably raised above the outside ground.

5. That a strong endeavour be made to get them to provide better latrine arrangements.

6. That they be encouraged to give up eating and drinking together from the same dish or vessel in common.

7. That the men be encouraged to follow their old practices of hunting, fishing, blacksmithing, &c., and with the women care for their gardens and homes, and that they be given every protection in these duties and in the holding of their property against the State soldiers and workmen and everybody else that wants to interfere with their rights.

8. All the foregoing they will not be able to do unless the present compulsory method of acquiring their labour and their food by the State is exchanged for a voluntary one.

9. That the Chiefs or present chief representatives of the deceased Chiefs among whom the land was divided before the State came into existence (I believe about three will be found at Lukolela itself) be recognized as the executive of these matters, and that they be requested to devote their levies (restored as of old) made on the produce, &c., of their lands to the betterment of their towns and district, by making roads through their lands, &c.

10. To appoint sentries to carry out either the above or any other beneficent rules in any of the villages would be to endeavour to mend the present deplorable condition with an evil a hundred-fold worse.

All the above suggestions adjusted to suit the locality are equally applicable to the inland districts.

In answering the list of questions I would say:--

1. Sleep-sickness is sadly only too well known at Lukolela. It is prevalent in the whole of the riverine and inland districts. In the inland districts I am not yet able to say whether it is more prevalent than in the riverine one; that can only be ascertained by a more prolonged residence there than as yet I have had opportunity to make. In the riverine district I estimate that quite half of the deaths are from sleep-sickness. The cases do not occur in batches like cases of small-pox and measles do; there are too many in a given place unaffected at one time. It will, however, gradually sweep away whole families. The common notion among the natives is that the sickness came from down-river; and it was prevalent, though not to such an extent as now, as far back as the oldest people I have met can remember. Before our Mission was founded here a suspected case would be thrown into the river; but inland I do not think there is any evidence to show that they did otherwise than to-day--nurse their sick perfectly, heedless of the contagion in respect of them (the nurses) or their friends, and, as they do on the beach, bury their dead close to their houses, and in some cases live on the top of the graves.

2. From my own observation (since January 1891) the sickness is endemic; in the riverine villages the death-rate slowly increased until 1894, when the people quite lost heart and felt their homes were no longer secure to them, and then hunger, improper food, fear, and homelessness appeared to increase the death-rate from sleep-sickness and other causes most appallingly, and the rate has still further increased, especially during the last two years. The fewer the population becomes the proportionate rate of death increases most fearfully.

3. The district of Lukolela may be described as follows: The beach line is wooded, broken by one or two creeks, one of which winds for a considerable distance inland to a district which can be reached overland by a journey of at least three days at the shortest. There is more or less of low-lying land connected with the creeks. The 6 miles below the Mission station is lower than the 8 miles above. The highest point of our land is about 19 metres above high-water level, and possibly there is a further rise of 3 metres or so further up stream. The ground which I suggest the people be removed to may be on an average about 12 to 15 metres above high-water level. This ridge of river bank shelves down into low-wooded land and grass plains which are flooded at high water, though for the most part dry at the lowest ebb; then behind these rise small plateaus separated by low valleys of wooded and grassy land. From the pools and streams of this low ground the people get most of their fish; even when the river is at medium height a journey between the various plateaus where the villages and farms are found requires about half the time to be spent in wading, sometimes breast deep.

4. A large proportion of the population is comprised of slaves, mostly from the tributaries of the Equator district, some from the Mobsi, Likuba, and Likwala peoples on the north bank, some from Ngombe below Irebu, some from as far as the district of Lake Léopold II and other places. All the tribes represented seem equally affected, and neither slave nor freeman seems to have preferential treatment.

5. To an ordinary observer the men, women, and children appear to be affected alike. It is not easy to always differentiate the sickness from other maladies, for often it may be that the malady gives rise to various complications; these complications are extremely intractable if sleep-sickness be present. When a man in the prime of life has his prestige and spirit broken through fear and punishment he loses interest in his home, refuses to take food and drink; a sleep-sickness patient will do the same. With the women in all cases we have known there is also present amenorrhœa; sometimes treatment for this has restored the patient in this respect for a time, but there has in all cases we have known of this sort been a relapse; so whether the patient died of one or the other would be difficult to say.

6. The well-fed do not seem to fall before the scourge so rapidly as the ill-fed. The progress of the disease seems to us considerably slower as a rule with those who take care of their food and habits, but it attacks even the most scrupulously attentive to these matters.

There is a very bad practice amongst them: they will go sometimes days without eating, although they may have manioc and plantain, and other foods from the soil at hand, simply because they have no fish or flesh to eat with them; sometimes they pinch themselves in food to retain their brass rods for the purchase of some coveted article. The natives to-day are not so careful in the preparation of food, and it is more hastily performed; the manioc is eaten as nearly the raw state as they dare use it. The bitter manioc is mostly grown, as the yield from it is greater than from any other kind. Plantains are largely eaten roasted, and boiled, and beaten into a pudding. Palm-nuts, too, they are very fond of, and the oil forms a good part of the cooked foods. They use, especially in the absence of fish or flesh, the leaves of the manioc, which are bruised and boiled; in nearly every case, however, head-and stomach-ache follow, which pass off in a few days if bowels be active. Well-peppered food they enjoy, and rotten fish and flesh they do not, as a rule, despise. Their dried fish, of which a large quantity is eaten, is not by any means always free from maggots. Elephant meat seems to give them diarrhœa; dog-headed bats similarly; hippo meat generally produces slight constipation. I am afraid a good deal of disease is passed from person to person in the preparation of food. There is a great deal of eating together and drinking together from one and the same vessel; they dip their hands in the mess prepared as they sit round the pot, and I cannot say that they are too careful of the condition of their hands at the time. Clothing is usually scant except for decoration; hence the colder the weather the less the clothing, the brighter and warmer the more they carry. Washing is not a very frequent exercise among the natives. They like, as a rule, teeth kept clean, washing them every day and after every meal. They like to smear their bodies with oil and camwood. The hair is left undressed or dressed as the case may be for weeks at a time without further cleansing. Sleeping is mostly done on raised constructions of sticks, varying from half a-foot from the ground to about 3 feet or so. I am afraid that not much in the way of covering is used while sleeping, a blanket being mostly worn during the day as an article of fine clothing. Many, especially those in temporary residence, sleep on the ground floor with only a mat intervening. Jiggers, bugs, mosquitos, and vermin abound in their houses on the beach, but jiggers are not so plentiful, and mosquitos very rare inland. The inland people take great care of their water sources, but on the beach the river water is largely used, and this is of a dark brown colour; some is taken from the creeks, but it is very impure, abounding with decayed vegetation and clay, and some from springs, such as they are, and these are only surface drainings over the clayey subsoil. The sweepings of their huts and refuse from their food is not thrown far away, sometimes even being quite close up against one of the walls of the hut. In the daytime they relieve themselves in the nearest sheltered spot without further discrimination, and these places, in the present uncleared character of their surroundings, are very close at hand; in the night time they are not so particular, but will even relieve themselves in the open, and on the paths trod by every one. The common belief is that the disease is communicated by means of the secretions, and yet, strange to say, the natives take scarcely any precautions.

7. All the cases we have known have been fatal. We have thought sometimes we have done good with iodide of potassium and cod-liver oil, but if it did any good at all it was only very temporary. We judge from our observations that from the first symptoms which appear to be mental ones, the best cared for cases last for from one to three years. Others in which food is soon refused and neglect is suffered may speedily terminate in a few months, or even weeks, from the first certain indications. The first symptoms seem to be mental, the balance of thought fails at intervals, then come the physical signs of pain in the lower part of the back; often thought here to be piles, and they seek the usual remedies for this; later the pain extends to the whole back and then to the head, especially at the back of the neck, and drowsiness steals over the patient at inconvenient times, often the eyes become staring, the face assumes a haggard appearance, and anæmia casts its pallor over the whole body; intelligence rapidly diminishes, and often the patient dies foaming at the mouth; if burial does not take place quickly maggots soon make their appearance in the body. When the natives begin to stuff their remedies up their patient’s nostrils to take away the “confusion of eyes” (a phrase which they use to describe a person going out of his senses) the patient will very likely become violently deranged, and then he has to be forcibly restrained in stocks or otherwise.

Isolation is undoubtedly the first thing to do, but when to begin the isolation is a difficulty, and when that is settled to maintain the isolation is still a greater one. The patients could not be left to die, they would need food, attending to (for they become so helpless latterly) and burying, and almost all who undertook that work would be sure eventually to succumb. To get a person here, however, to look after somebody else’s relative is a well nigh impossibility by moral suasion.

I should have noted above that the experiment of better houses, such as the youths and workmen have built in the little village adjoining the Mission station (wattle and daub, with good high roofs), have given no benefit whatever. Very few of them will be able to remain for more than one or two years; the occupants are showing signs that are ominous; we shall need to burn them down at the decease of the occupants.

Apologizing for trespassing on your attention at so great a length, I beg you to accept, &c.

(Signed) JOHN WHITEHEAD

(B.)

_The Rev. J. Whitehead to Governor-General of Congo State._

_Baptist Missionary Society, Lukolela, Haut Congo, September 7, 1903._

Dear Sir,

I have recently paid a visit, along with my wife, to the inland district of Lukolela, and I have had related to me such accounts, and have myself seen such evidence of what seems to me both illegal and cruel occurrences, that my blood had been made to boil with indignation and abhorrence. I take upon myself the humanitarian duty, which is truly the call of God, to supplement my letter to you on the subject of sleep-sickness and the general decline of these peoples, and confirm some of my statements by the presentation of facts of which I have the knowledge. It may be that in some of my statements I may be trusting to bruised reeds, but, as far as possible, I am persuaded of the truth of what I present to your consideration.

On the 16th August, 1902, I called the attention of the Commissaire-Général at Léopoldville to a murder which had been committed by a soldier by shooting two men while still in the chain. They had been sent, in addition, to a youth who was walking unchained to draw water from a pool some 2 kilom. distant from the lower post of Lukolela by a telegraph clerk named M. Gadot (M. de Becker being the Chef de Poste resident at the upper station). The unchained youth was flogged by the soldier by a chicotte taken from a house on the way, and the youth fled, and the soldier shot the two men left. My letter was taken down river by a steamer which passed here in course of a week. Nothing was done by the men in charge of the posts here until, by letter of the 15th September, 1902, I was requested by the Chef de Poste to send up my witnesses. Those witnesses could have been had the same day of the deed if the officers had done their duty. I went up with such witnesses as I was able to get together, and their evidence was taken. Nothing more was heard of the matter until the 24th April of this year, when I received a note from the State Agent here asking for certain people attached to our station, whose names he gave. He did not mention the reason of their being required at Léopoldville, but I guessed the reason. I was only able to send one of them, one other having returned to his home, and another being near to death. The man resident in the village, who was one of the witnesses I took up previously, was sent for to the State post and detained, and not allowed to return to make any provision of his journey to the pool. My apprentice and this man went down to the pool to bear witness concerning that murder; on the way the captain of the steamer ordered them off to carry and cut firewood; they demurred, naturally, but for peace sake did a little. In a storm of rain the shelter of the large steamer was denied them, and they spent the night sitting on the beach--the two of them beneath one frail umbrella. When they arrived at the pool, no one seemed to know why they had come; they were sent from pillar to post, then there seems to have been discovered some reason or other to interrogate them. The soldier concerned was with his fellows just the same as though there was no trial, and had, indeed, been no wrong done. But for the friendly offices of a sister Mission these two witnesses would have fared very badly during the six weeks they were detained at Léopoldville; they were practically shelterless and unfed; even as it was, they were hungry enough. At length they returned by our Mission steamer. It seems that the only sufferers in the matter were myself, in the loss of my apprentice for six weeks, and his loss of six weeks’ wages, together with his considerable discomfort and the loss of the man from the village--not much, perhaps, in the eyes of the officials of the State, but much to them; then all their suffering is easily traceable to myself, for if I had not drawn the Commissaire’s attention to the murder no witnesses would have been necessary, for who would have mentioned it? Considering the way in which this matter was dealt with, and the witnesses I produced were treated, I hesitate to bring other matters to light. The treatment these witnesses received only strengthens the distrust of the State, which, in this place, everywhere abounds. I therefore appeal for just treatment of witnesses and those who bring wrong-doing to light.