Through African Eyes
1966-1967
Chief John Mdeka, Usagari village, Tanzania Chief Gordon Mwansasu, Magistrate, Rungwe, Tanzania Barrie Reynolds, Curator, Rhodes-Livingston Museum, Zambia
arlier in 1966, just before I left Usagari village and before Ian Harker and I splashed across the Ugalla river, Chief John Mdeka came by the compound where I lived. I had invited him to see a copy of an old book by a German missionary Epriest, Father Boesch, which had drawings of traditional Nyamwezi tools and artifacts. He sat in my canvas chair turning the pages and murmuring “Yes, yes,” as he saw things he remembered as a child.The next day he came back, this time with an object wrapped in an oil- stained cloth. He laid it on the table, pushed it towards me and took the cloth away. It was an old Nyamwezi mask. Mdeka slowly pulled two beaded objects from his pockets, put them next to the mask, and looked up. He was not smiling. Nyamwezi wooden mask, (kifuniko, carved circa 1925), given to the author “These are for you. Take them, Meela (Miller),” he said. “Guard in Usagari village, Tabora them for us. Nobody here wants them. People no longer believe in the District, Tanzania in 1964. power of masks.” Separate objects made from glass beads, leather With his elbows on the table, the Chief draped one of the beaded straps and cow hair objects over the mask. I sensed he might be worried about giving the which allowed different things away, perhaps of betraying the ancestors. configurations on the “What about one of the museums—the one in Dar is....” mask for ritual purposes. He shook his head. “I know about them. They are corrupt. They (Author’s collection) will sell it to wazungu (Europeans). They won’t keep it. You have it, Milla. You keep it.” Chief John said my gift was an execution mask, worn to hide the identity of the person who sentenced someone to die. He reported peo- ple were mainly executed for adultery with a chief’s wife, and that the condemned were carried to a large outcrop of rocks near Unga hill. There, the tendons in their ankles and legs were slashed with a machete and they were left to the hyenas. It happened at sunset. Usually only a few bones were found the next day. The beaded objects were called “kishingo,” and were put on the mask to pronounce sentences for different crimes. “Why else were people executed?” I asked.
78 ENCOUNTERS WITH WITCHCRAFT THROUGH AFRICAN EYES 79 78 ENCOUNTERS WITH WITCHCRAFT THROUGH AFRICAN EYES 79 For the first time that afternoon, the chief smiled. “Your subject, Meela. For giving the death sentence to people who practiced witchcraft.” Chief Mdeka remembered how other Nyamwezi masks were used to depict stories, particularly for teaching children or for initiation into secret societies. He said they were meant to shock, to suggest protec- tion against witches whom he described as “people who poison others, do bad things, and can be hired.” The chief said his most frightening childhood memories were of witchcraft stories being enacted at night, with drumming and dancing near a big fire, the children made to sit together and keep their heads low to the ground. “Why low to the ground?” I asked. “I think to make those who played witches look bigger,” he said. When Mdeka got up to leave he patted the old mask on its nose, then looked at me and took my hand in both of his. “Return here when you can, Meela. Tell us how our mask likes living in your country.”