Chapter 11 of 22 · 2537 words · ~13 min read

CHAPTER III

KIKUYU MAGIC AND MAGICIANS

Njau wa Kabocha.—There is, in S. Kikuyu, a curious old medicine man named Njau wa Kabocha, belonging to the Anjiru clan, who is held in great esteem on account of his magical powers and his priestly functions. He possesses a sacred tree, at which sacrifices are believed to be very effectual. He is said not to deal in bad magic, and one of his specialities is the removal of a plague of caterpillars, ngunga, or wireworms, vigunyu, from the crops. He was good enough to give a description of the procedure used to effect this useful object.

The owner of the afflicted crops brings a ram, ndorume, and some beer; the ram is strangled and the lower intestine, mutura, is extracted; a number of the caterpillars are also collected. The magician drinks a draught of the beer and then bites the caterpillars in half, one after another, and lays the pieces on the leaves of the mutundu (Croton macrostachys) and mukuyu (Dombeya sp.). He then places fragments of the caterpillars in the intestine of the ram, goes away into the bush and buries the parcel in the hole of white ants’ nest (Muthongonina). [11] He next takes some wood of the morika and muirangani trees and lights a fire near the place where the caterpillars are buried, and in this fire he burns the above-mentioned leaves and the remaining caterpillars.

The magician does not eat any of the meat of the ram; this is consumed by the owners of the fields and the elders who have accompanied him.

A second ram is then provided, and the magician, together with the village elders, goes and sacrifices this at the nearest sacred fig tree; the breast of the ram is cut out and hung in the tree, and the remainder of the sacrifice is eaten by the magician and the elders. After this, the magician takes the ngorima (colon?) from the second ram, some beer, njohi, some unfermented beer, ngogoyo, honey, beeswax, medicine, of which he would not disclose the nature, and the horns of the ram; these he burns in a fire, ichua, in the afflicted field. The bones are all broken intentionally, but the marrow is not extracted, as it is said that when the fat and bones are burnt in the fire they make a smell which is very acceptable to the deity Engai. The fire is called ichua, the particular name for a fire lit at a sacrifice—a sacred fire in fact.

This is the end of the ceremony, and the magician then receives two or three miati, ewes which have not yet borne a kid. It was stated that after the ceremony above described the caterpillars would disappear in a day or two; they would either be killed by heavy rain, eaten by soldier ants, siafu, or the sun would dry them up.

On the day after the ceremony no person is allowed to cultivate the fields, the men may not eat beef that day or the next, and that night every man must observe celibacy. He must not sleep in one of his ordinary huts, but in the thengira, or goat hut, among the unmarried men.

Njau wa Kabocha declares that he can, if he wishes it, bring a plague of caterpillars upon any section of people who treat him badly, and that he can do this by pouring out some beer in his village and praying to Engai. Within fourteen days, he alleges, the caterpillars will begin to appear, but he admitted that he could only do this about the normal season when caterpillars are apt to come in swarms.

In the old days, when the Kikuyu used to fight the Masai, Njau’s father, who was a great magician, was a specialist at making medicine to enable his people to check the Masai invasions, and when they came, to ensure victory for the Kikuyu. The knowledge of this art is said to have come down from his ancestors.

This magic is called mwita, and its most important instrument is a kiheto, or small piece of iron obtained from a smith. A small clay pot is made in which the kiheto is placed and some medicine called njeku, and this is brought to the path by which the Masai usually came to attack. If this failed, Njau’s father would go to an old woman of the Asi or Dorobo tribe, buy from her an earthenware pot; this he would take, along with a ram, and proceed secretly through the forest near Ngong Mt., to a spot close to the Masai raiding track. He would then kill the ram as if for a sacrifice, cook the tail fat in the pot, then melt down some of the body fat, taking care to pick out any pieces of flesh which had accidentally been put into the pot. He would also add some tatha from the stomach of the ram and some sugar cane beer to the melted fat in the pot. He would next seek out a straight and lofty tree and bury the pot and its contents at the foot of it, being careful that the mouth of the pot just showed above ground. This is what the Swahilis call kafara, and it is believed to stop a raiding party from passing that way. If, however, they did succeed in passing, their raid would be abortive and many would be killed. The power of this magic is said to be derived from the deity Engai and not from the spirits.

The medicine above referred to and called njeku is stated to have been made from a piece of cloth or an old discarded sandal secretly obtained from an abandoned Masai kraal; this is charred, ground up, and then mixed with certain magic herbs.

Kamiri wa Itherero.—The Hon. C. Dundas has furnished some interesting information with regard to the magic powers of one Kamiri, who is the same medicine man referred to in the curious incident described in “Ethnology of A-Kamba,” p. 143 et seq.

Close to Kyambu there lives a medicine man of the name of Kamiri wa Itherero who is said to be one of the most renowned of all Kikuyu. Like most medicine men, Kamiri is possessed of more character than most of his countrymen, and this is shown by his manner and appearance to a far greater extent than is usually the case among other natives. He is one of the few members of the senior generation of Maina, which in itself is a claim to veneration; this means that he has practically withdrawn from the council of elders, and that he must be a man of considerable age. Yet Kamiri looks younger and better preserved than many an elder of the Mwangi generation. This may possibly be due to his temperate habits, for it is said that he has never in his life touched intoxicating liquors. In height Kamiri is much below the average of his tribe, but his remarkably clear features and the penetrating look of his eyes give him a dignified appearance.

For the European, Kamiri, on the whole, has no liking, and he does not trouble to conceal this; in his own mind he is clear on the point that we do very little good and cause vast damage by upsetting all good customs; in particular the injurious effect of our administration on the manners of women troubles him. And this is not surprising, for Kamiri has suffered much by our intrusion. In former times the success of raids depended to a great extent on his advice and aid, and this, coupled with his deep knowledge of the art of medicine in general, had won him great respect, and one can even say that he was held in awe. Kamiri, in fact, was probably the principal man of the tribe and the nearest approach to a chief that his countrymen of that day could imagine. To-day he is a small headman, but nevertheless enjoys no small standing, as we shall show.

Missionaries designate Kamiri as the “official poisoner”; yet one missionary, who knows him better than any other European, tells me that if Kamiri is hired to poison a man he will first call that man and tell him so and then he will inquire into the case and endeavour to settle the quarrel, in which respect he is usually successful. If Kamiri is a poisoner he is essentially the “official” poisoner; he uses his art with discretion and in legitimate causes. There is a great difference between the medicine man of Kamiri’s type and the average witch doctor of to-day; the medicine man of the old school knows what he does, and dooms a man perhaps as conscientiously as a judge when he hangs a murderer.

Nothing which we or our influence could do has broken his position as a medicine man; even the paramount chief has a great respect for him, and he has been seen to get up and give his place to Kamiri. It is believed that no Kikuyu, however strongly supported by the Government, would really dare to go against Kamiri. A few years ago he demonstrated this power by hanging up a bag of rupees in a tree by the pathway and left it there for several months: no one dared to tamper with it. Natives attribute marvellous powers to him, and it is pretty certain that once he has detected a criminal no Kikuyu has any doubt as to his guilt, neither would they think that any man poisoned by him had been unjustly dealt with. It is not very surprising that this cunning medicine man, with his uncomfortable supernatural powers and his science of detection, should not enjoy great popularity, and that there should be rather a feeling of distrust between him and his people.

On one occasion Kamiri volunteered to detect a case of theft of some cattle in which two men, A, a herder, and B, a man remotely suspected, were in custody on suspicion. As far as is known Kamiri knew nothing about the case or the persons suspected. Having set some boys to catch lizards, Kamiri placed the two men before him and dabbed some white powder on their noses and on the palms of their hands. The same substance was streaked on one of the lizard’s heads and he then waved the gourd containing this medicine round the lizard and likewise round the suspected man. He then asked B if he had committed the theft, to which the man replied in the negative. Kamiri then held the lizard to the man’s nose for some minutes, but it made no signs. Next he repeated the performance with A, and immediately on his denying the charge the lizard caught hold of his nostrils with its mouth. This it did several times. Kamiri was then asked if the man was guilty. He replied that he was not, because if he had been so, the lizard would have held on and not let go, but he was also not innocent, otherwise the lizard would have acted as with B, and therefore he concluded that the man knew about the theft and had probably abetted it. The charge was never proved against this man, but it was almost certain that he must have had some knowledge of the theft. The natives had not the smallest doubt about it after Kamiri’s decision, and were highly surprised that B was not at once liberated.

A famous trick of Kamiri’s is to make a small sheep grow large. The writer has not seen this, but was told by a European that he had witnessed it and that he made the sheep swell to an enormous size. One of Kamiri’s feats is related with great satisfaction by the natives. Kamiri once gave some medicine to a European in order that he should win a race, and the story goes that the medicine worked satisfactorily. So now there is a profound belief that Kamiri’s medicine, unlike most others, does not lose its potency with Europeans.

Kamiri’s pupil is his son Kithege, who is said to be almost as practised in the arts as his father, and he is now generally sent in his father’s place when there is any distance to go. Kithege was seen to perform the same trick with the lizard in another case of theft. This time the lizard hung on to the man’s nose and remained so even when not held. The man was at once pronounced to be the offender, and even admitted himself that he had never heard of Kamiri making a mistake before, although he denied having committed the theft. On this occasion endeavours were made to discover how the trick was done. It was certainly not due to any pressure of the hand; a trial was also made with various colours, but with no effect. Seeing that the writer was sceptical, Kithege, at his own suggestion, picked out at random two men from the crowd and tried it with them, but the lizard would not bite either of them.

Finally the conclusion was come to that there must be some connection between the breathing of the man and the lizard’s action; possibly so long as the man breathed freely, the lizard would not bite, but when he held his breath or breathed strongly, after holding it for a time, the lizard, for some reason, hung to his nose.

The idea that a reptile will fasten on to a criminal has its parallel in the New Testament, vide Acts xxviii. 3–6: “And when the barbarians saw the venomous beast hang on to his hand they said among themselves, No doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he escaped the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not to live.” Possibly there is an idea that the reptile is really a spirit which has temporarily assumed this form.

It is considered impossible that a medicine man should maintain a real standing and the absolute faith of the people by mere trickery. Still less is it likely that a charlatan would have so much self-confidence as Kamiri, and therefore one is driven to the conclusion that a man such as Kamiri must repeatedly have proved himself to be right in his detection. The most successful practices in this respect will always be such as work automatically, and the more one sees of noted medicine men the more one inclines to the idea that many of their powers are neither trickery nor mystery, but are simply due to the nervousness or to the mental effect upon the victim or patient.

Kithege was asked if he had any other ways of proving the man’s innocence or guilt, and he immediately expressed his readiness to try another test. Asked what he would do, he announced his intention of taking the man’s eye out, and on being stopped he volunteered to put a venomous snake round the man’s neck. Unfortunately both of these experiments entailed more risk than the confidence of the observer would permit, although the suspected man seemed to have no apprehensions as to the danger he was running.