14 - Africa: Home of Witchcraft

In tracing the history of witchcraft through the centuries, it has become increasingly apparent that once a primitive idea is projected into a civilized setting and accepted, it is impossible to estimate the incredible heights it may attain. One fallacy begets another until they are all so far out that there is no returning, except by rejecting the initial premise.

The best way to strike a balance between fact and fantasy is to consider witchcraft in a natural setting where it has enjoyed a steady, understandable growth, enabling it to reach its most lavish and most highly developed form. That is throughout the continent of Africa, particularly in the tropical regions. There, animism, the belief that natural objects have souls or spirits which can exist in or apart from their physical form, was predominant. That was logical enough, as the prevalence of wild and dangerous animals along with unexplainable diseases, plus floods, droughts and other phenomena, could all be blamed on spirits.

Africa: Home of Witchcraft

Not that those things didn't happen elsewhere. They are experienced so often in America that insurance companies refer to them as "Acts of God" and refuse to pay off on them, as the fine print of some of your insurance policies may show. But in the Africa of the not-so-distant-past, they blamed such catastrophes on spirits and brought in the witch doctors to handle them.

In Central Africa, a type of general practitioner among witch doctors is known as a nganga. He makes a great show of divining past, present and future by casting "bones" that are commonly termed hakata, in order to interpret the way they fall. The hakata vary in design and material from split seeds, the size of dice, to actual bones. There may be as many as a dozen, bearing figures representing such creatures as an eagle, turtle, snake, crocodile, leopard, lion, along with other symbols of less obvious significance.

The nganga tosses these and reads their meaning, according to whether the marks are up or down; but sometimes his throws are too frequent or too rapid for anyone else to follow, so anyone consulting him must take his word for whatever the hakata tell him. Usually, there is nothing remarkable about this; but a British physician, Frederick Kaigh, who visited Central Africa in the 1930's, describes an instance where the bones seemingly came "alive" while the nganga who threw them was in a trance state. Two of the hakata stood on end and stayed there, while another, bearing the crocodile symbol of death, rose and then fell back. All were flat and motionless when the nganga snapped from his trance; from the crocodile's behavior, he decided that Dr. Kaigh was due for a close call with death. That proved true when his car tumbled from a mountain road a week later, though he escaped with only minor injuries.

What caused the bones to come alive in this unusual case? Threads? Magnets? Hypnotism? The most plausible answer would have to be threads, due to a special detail in Kaigh's eyewitness report: Lokanzi, the witch doctor, first smoothed a circle in the earth, then leveled it with sand from a bag he carried. That sand could very well have concealed the threads that made the hakata behave as they did. To a degree, this feat of close-up wizardry was reminiscent of a more spectacular demonstration described by a famous American magician, Samri Baldwin, who visited British Bechuanaland (now the Republic of Botswana) a half century earlier.

There, the witch doctor of a Mashona village conducted Baldwin to the bank of a small river and picked up a light log that had broken from an overhanging tree bough. The native wizard tossed the log into the river where it floated rapidly downstream until he ordered it to stop, which it did. Considering that it could have struck a shoal, Baldwin was not overly surprised; but when the Mashona wizard beckoned it to come upstream and it obeyed, that was something else again. Not only that, it stopped again, then sank entirely from sight, only to surface suddenly - all according to the witch doctor's commands. It resumed its course upstream at his direction, pausing, diving, and once jumping nearly a foot from the water. Finally, as it neared the river bank, the witch doctor waded out to meet it, brought it ashore and handed it to Baldwin for his amazed inspection.

The incident took place toward dusk and all that night Professor Baldwin pondered over the near miracle. The next day, he showed the witch doctor some feats of American wizardry so astounding that the nganga offered to swap secrets. Thus, Baldwin learned, and later revealed, the mystery of the obedient log. Though apparently lying carelessly upon the river bank, it was actually rigged for business, with two thin cords of fiber from an African plant attached to it, each about sixty feet long. Because these fibers were of the same color as the grassy bank, they escaped notice when the witch doctor threw the log into the stream, which was muddy enough to hide the cords as they were paid out by an accomplice hidden in the brush. Thanks to the dusk, the witch doctor's assistant remained unseen as he manipulated the cords to produce the desired results. When the nganga waded out and seized the animated log, he had only to detach the fiber cords and the riddle was complete.

These two cases have been cited because they so clearly emphasize the African witch doctor's perpetual purpose - to prove that all objects can be animated by a spirit force that he has the ability to summon. In commenting upon his experience with the Mashona witch doctor, Professor Baldwin, as an American stage magician, made this pointed summary:

I could not, however, make him understand that my performances were given simply with the idea of entertaining the public. His deceptions were given purely with the view of making his tribal comrades have an implicit belief in his supernatural powers; and he could not comprehend how any person could produce work of that character, unless it. was lo make others believe that it was not mere trickery, but could only be produced by individuals of the nature of a demi-god.

Fifty years later, Dr. Kaigh, expanding on that theme, credited the nganga with being "a soothsayer, a prophet, a doctor of herbal medicines, a high priest, a philosopher and expounder of religion" - as well as "a brilliant medium, an expert conjuror, a sleight of hand artist" - and beyond all that, "an expertly astute businessman and a superb showman."

It was justifiable of Kaigh to credit the nganga with the brilliance of a spirit medium in light of the occurrences of a particular evening. On that night Kaigh attended a ceremony in a native village where Lokanzi propitiated the spirit of the local chieftain who had been murdered a few days before. While the villagers imbibed a native brew to the beat of native drums, Lokanzi kindled a fire in front of the dead chief's empty throne. He sprinkled the flames amply with a powdered "medicine" that gave off a pungent smoke that Kaigh described as having "a slightly stupefying effect; after smelling it, one felt a little drunk and light-headed."

That might have accounted in part for what followed. Lokanzi howled wildly, then went into a frenzied dance, while the drums beat a fierce rhythm which ended abruptly as the nganga collapsed in a deathlike trance. Moments later, a great shout rose from the onlookers, for there in the throne was the figure of the dead chief!

As Lokanzi roused from his trance, the chief talked to him; then addressed the villagers, naming his successor and telling them who killed him. His mission accomplished, the chief rose, turned about and strode into the light of the full moon, his figure dwindling in its glow until he was gone. The murderer was later found dead, but without a mark on his body, apparently the victim of his own guilt or fear.

Exactly what happened that night is anybody's guess. It could have been an illusion created by the heavy brew and the soporific smoke; or possibly it was a case of mass hypnotism, aided by the throbbing drum beats. It might even have been a masquerade arranged by Lokanzi, or a combination of the factors mentioned; and of course, there are many people willing to believe that the witch doctor actually did materialize the spirit of the departed chief.

The term "fetish" is frequently used in connection with African witchcraft to denote an object which is "possessed" by a spiritual being. It is of European origin, however, and was originally applied to ornamental amulets worn by African natives to ward off evil, or talismans which were supposed to bring good luck. Thus the fetish may range in size from an animal's tooth to a fetish house, where a witch doctor keeps his gear and goes to consult the spirits.

Fuju has a similar significance, but is more strictly a type of charm, used in connection with the witch doctor's "medicine" and can work for good or harm as required. There is some uncertainty regarding the origin of the term; some authorities claim that it comes from a native expression grou-grou and others believe that it is simply the French word joujou, meaning a plaything, because joujoux were often in the shape of dolls, which Europeans on the West Coast of Africa mistook for toys, never guessing what evil lurked in the hearts of those innocent looking puppets.

Some witch doctors go to the opposite extreme, making a juju that is appropriately grisly, and therefore not only impressive to the viewers, but inspirational for the operator himself. One Nigerian nganga cooked up a dandy, consisting of eight human skulls, placed jaw to jaw, all gazing upward, their foreheads bulging outward. Set upright in the center of the hollow octagon was a finely carved wooden hand, probably made by a witch doctor who believed himself a "powerful man" and who had crooned a murderous chant of hate, all during the process. Also jutting from the center of the surrounding jawbones were two simple but significant objects - a skewer and a knife. They gave the spirit killer a choice of weapons, so to speak; and also extending upright, were four human thigh bones, a good old standby of the witch doctors in every time and clime. You point one of those at anybody and he is doomed; so too with this superb Nigerian juju, the carved hand, which could do the pointing as well as the killing.

Probably each skull belonged to some good departed juju worker or somebody so vengeful in nature that the central helping hand could plug in from skull to bone, in switchboard fashion and even have two or three jobs under way at once. But when this particular juju was confiscated, only one intended murder could be charged against the owner. Tucked under one of the skulls were some torn fragments of government documents, filched from the files of an official whom the owner of the juju evidently hoped to kill.

An example of how such juju operates and the result it gains, comes from a district where a villager secretly resolved to dispose of a rival through witchcraft. The villager talked warily to a friend who was supposed to be a member of a local hyena clan, intimating that he could use their services. He was told to go to a hill outside the village, taking along a specially cooked chicken, and give a hyena call.

The villager did as he was told and in answer to his howl, lights appeared below, revealing dancers whose actions so resembled animals that at times they seemed half-human, half-hyena. One of the "hyena men" approached the awed villager and calmly ate the chicken while asking him what he wanted. The villager told him, and was in turn instructed to gather dust from his rival's footprints, charcoal from his fire, hair from his head, parings from his nails and to bring them to the next meeting, along with a full grown black goat.

On the night the villager returned with the required articles he was again met by the juju man of the hyena clan, who sprinkled the goat with powdered "medicine" and drove it off into the jungle as a sacrifice. Whether it was to be killed and eaten by wild animals or members of the hyena clan, he did not specify. The juju man then produced some straw from the hut of the villager's rival, crammed it into a hole in the ground and added the rival's personal effects that the villager had brought.

Setting fire to the lot, the juju man pointed in the direction of the intended victim's hut and chanted a command to "Kill - Kill - Kill!" as he sprinkled powdered "medicine" on the flames. When the fire died down, he extinguished it by filling the hole with dirt and marking the spot so that after the charm fulfilled its purpose, the ashes could be dug up and scattered. Without such a precaution it could continue to function, perhaps adversely, toward the jujuist or his client, or even members of the hyena clan.

The trouble was, the juju worked too well. Within three days the victim died - so suddenly and so mysteriously that his relatives suspected witchcraft. Checking persons who had been antagonistic toward him, they watched the villager and trailed him when he went to meet the jujuist and dig up the buried evidence. So both were brought to justice. Penalties for witchcraft are stringent in Africa, as court records will show; but they can be even tougher when native justice takes over. Suspected witches may be beaten to death, impaled with spears or burned alive. Sometimes a grass hut with a witch doctor inside, has burst into flames. That isn't much different from the days when they set fire to a witch's cottage in England. Always a witch's body should be burned, not only to prevent some evil spirit from animating it, which would be quite dreadful; but because a capable nganga can use the bones and ashes to make "medicine" which may prove helpful in thwarting the designs of other witches.

Among many African tribes, any death was attributed to witchcraft unless it could be proved otherwise. That was logical, considering that there was no good reason for anybody ever to die, unless killed by some animal or person; and even then, there might have been some hidden scheme behind it. So witch finders were constantly in vogue, just as in more civilized climes, their business being to "smell out" any suspects responsible for the unusual deaths. Here is an account of such a ceremony, from only a few decades back:

A big fire was built in the center of the village and the women retired to their huts, while the men formed a kneeling row, until the nganga arrived. He was preceded by two assistants wearing skirted costumes and waving torches, their eyes and foreheads smeared with white clay, giving them a ghostly appearance. As they danced and shouted, the witch doctor put in his appearance in far more fearful guise, wearing a weird mask with huge teeth and towering crown. Soon, the torch bearers waved the men to their huts; then one brought a "medicine bag" and handed it to the nganga along with a small basket decorated with shells, skin and dried blood.

From the bag, the nganga took several grisly objects which he dropped into the basket; then put on the lid. He and his helpers then began a round of the huts; one beating a drum, the other calling the names of the occupants, who came out one by one. With each, the weirdly masked witch doctor raised the lid of the basket and nodded that the man was clear. So one by one, the villagers joined the procession in ever-gathering force, until at one hut, the lid refused to come free when a man was called. That meant that the spirits controlling the fetish had gripped his soul and were holding it there. That proved that the man - or woman - was guilty of witchcraft unless he, or she, could prove otherwise. Often, accused victims were too overwhelmed to speak up in their own defense, so they became the victims of mob violence or whatever fate the witch doctor might decree. But if an accused person insisted that he was innocent, there was one sure way to tell whether he was right or wrong. That was to have him undergo an ordeal and see what resulted.

The poison test was among the best. The nganga mixed a brew of sassy bark, grimaced when he tasted it and then let the suspect have a try. Normally, such revolting stuff should sicken him; if it did, he was deemed innocent; but if his stomach retained it, he was doomed. The reason was simple enough - the poison was fighting the evil spirits within him, automatically proving that he was a witch. Usually, it worked against the suspect, since the witch doctor, rather than lose face by picking an innocent man, was apt to go lightly on the poison, so the suspect would be able to stomach the brew.

A missionary in the old Cameroon territory, which is now part of the Republic of Cameroon, was credited with challenging a witch doctor to drink his own poison brew on the chance that he, too, might be a witch. When the nganga refused, the case against the suspect was dropped. This simply proves that a witch doctor is not infallible; in fact, in some localities, a distinction is made between such practitioners as an myanga, or mere "bone-thrower," and an insangoma or "smeller-outer."

While a nganga is supposed to use his power only for good and never for evil, it is difficult to draw a sharp line of demarcation between the two. A witch doctor, to be worthy of the name, must be acquainted with all the devices used by witches; hence there might be times when he would find it expedient to fight bad medicine with bad medicine. If a witch should send a ngozi, or grudge-bearing spirit, to harm a witch doctor's client, the quickest remedy might be to send another ngozi after the offending witch. The same would apply to a type of witchcraft sometimes called izulu, in which natural elements, particularly lightning, are used to strike a victim.

The incongruous angle is that in cases where a witch doctor cooks up some imaginary case or type of witchcraft, where nobody is really involved, any counteracting measure of his own would mean that he alone was practicing witchcraft. But if you add nothing to nothing, you still have nothing, so it is hard to tell where the vicious circle begins or ends.

African witchcraft supplies a surprising parallel to European witch lore, most notably in the way that witches flit about at night. Where English witches relied on broomsticks, their African counterparts preferred various animals, chiefly the hyena, but quite frequently the ant-bear, or aardvark, a piglike creature that measures as much as six feet. It goes scouting about for ants, as its name implies, and therefore has nocturnal habits.

That made it easy for witches to coax such a creature from its favorite ant-hill and commandeer it for a rapid ride through the void. Another unusual animal, the ant-wolf, is somewhat of a cross between the hyena and the aardvark, making the link all the stronger. Hence, in parts of Africa, if somebody happens to kill an ant-bear, it may prove to be the familiar of some witch, who having lost her favorite steed, promptly puts a whammy on the unsuspecting perpetrator. Unfortunately, he doesn't realize how he sinned until he consults a witch doctor and obtains a full diagnosis of his problem.

Other factors figure in African witchcraft, such as the rhythmic drum beats that throb through the jungle darkness, strumming unspoken messages for all to hear. To learn what evil really lurks in the hearts of men, you have only to study cases of miscreants who are literally hounded to their deserved doom by the monotonous thrum-thrum of the jungle drums.

The drum was regarded as having a life of its own by such tribes as the Batangas, who did more than merely cover a big drum with a fresh cowskin; they let the animal's blood flow into the drum. For good measure, they occasionally beheaded a man and added his blood, too. That meant that whenever the drum was beaten, their king would get a new extension of life from the spirit of the victim.

Where witchcraft was somewhat "touch and go" with other tribes, the Ashanti located in what is now Ghana, counted on it to win battles. Ashanti witches worked in league with an all-powerful demon named Sasabonsam, who took the shape of a hairy monster with long legs and feet that pointed in two directions. The Ashanti also used women witch finders, who wore white robes and smeared their faces with white clay. 

Then, in honor of a very special fetish, they did a shuffling, stooping dance to the beat of a huge drum. In fact, fetishism played such an important role in the lives of the Ashanti that their king was compelled to have 3,333 wives. On one occasion, he and his cohorts defeated and killed a British governor, whose skull was made into a royal drinking mug, which was something of a fetish in itself. A half century later, the Ashanti lost a bitter war in which the king's palace in Kumasi was blown up and a great spirit house located in a sacred grove, was burned. 

That was in 1874; in 1896, another war culminated in the destruction of a new palace and more fetish buildings. The Ashanti territory was annexed by the Gold Coast colony five years later; and is now part of the new and independent Republic of Ghana. Today, Kumasi is a thriving commercial city and in its colorful market place, customers from all over Ghana can buy anything from canned goods to ready-made fetishes. But witchcraft is not only still alive in Africa, it has traveled far from there and flourishes strongly in other parts of the world as a final survey will show.