Nicholas Said's relatively short autobiography is one of the most interesting textual sources produced by a native of Borno. The author of this slave narrative was kidnapped by Tuaregs and sold into slavery in North Africa. From Tripoli, Said accompanied a Turkish master who ran a tobacco shop, on the pilgrimage to Mecca. Along the way, Said traveled to Egypt, Sudan, Ethiopia, today's Saudi Arabia, Somalia, and Muscat. One almost wishes he told us more about the Ethiopian traders he met in Khartoum, or about the African pilgrims en route to Mecca in Sudan and Ethiopia. Alas, that was not his focus, but it would have been interesting if he met others from Borno in Sudan and Ethiopia. After his master's shop is burned down (with half of Tripoli's Turkish bazaar), our protagonist is sent to Izmir, where he is sold to a politically connected Turk who then takes him to Constantinople. After brushing shoulders with the cosmopolitan elites of Constantinople, he is acquired by a Russian diplomat and aristocrat who takes him to the Russian Empire.
Via travels with a Russian employer, he traverses Europe, experiencing all the aesthetic, technological, and cultural advances of mid-19th century West. Eventually, when in London and planning a return to Borno, a Dutch client offers him employment for an extended trip to North America and the Caribbean. Visiting US cities, the Bahamas, Haiti, and Jamaica, Said and his employer return to the US and Canada, where Said is abandoned after loaning his boss funds. Stranded in Canada, he is encouraged to go to Buffalo, New York, where there are more "colored" people. Thus began Said's experiences in the US on a permanent basis. Perhaps due to the delicate post-Civil War conditions in the US South, Said does not disclose his service in the Union Army. One is also struck by the number of elite or royal people Said claims to have met or served, including receiving a gift from the Czar Nicholas I. One almost senses in this a Kanuri cultural practice of dependents seeking wealthy or powerful men as patrons, and perhaps Said's namedropping was a reflection of that. Or perhaps it served as a counter to US racism, as a "black" man, though in a servile position, was valued and respected by cosmopolitan European elites and experienced little to no racial prejudice. One can sense some tensions, perhaps tied to his race, with European domestics in Russia, and we can be sure there was a lot more that happened to Said in Europe or Turkey than he's willing to admit. Alternatively, Said may have looked to the famous "Negro" of Peter the Great as a model for refashioning his life in the Russian Empire.
So, what does Nicholas Said's biography tell us about Borno and the experience of Borno's peoples in the modern world? First, Said himself represents Borno as a political project encompassing a variety of ethnic groups, including the Kanuri, Shuwa, Kanembu, and, in the case of Said, "Mandra" (Mandara) and Molgoy. Molgoy were a people whose ruling chief accepted a tributary relationship with Borno under Mai Barnoma. Said's mother, Dalla, was the daughter of a Mandra chief. Yet despite these non-Kanuri origins, Said seems to identify wholeheartedly with Borno and refers to the Borno or Kanuri language as his vernacular. Perhaps this a reflection of his father's military service under Shehu al-Kanemi, which meant Said grew up in Kukawa, the capital, and socialized with a son of Shehu Omar. Either way, this is an interesting example of how multiethnic the empire of Borno was, and to what extent people from "pagan" tributary or vassal states in the region could ascend the ranks of the military and social status.
After all, Mohammad Ali ben Said was the son of Barca Gana, a famous general who defended Borno against the Fulani, Bagirmi, Wadai, and other enemies or raiders. Indeed, it was presumably through his father's prominence and connections with al-Kanemi and his successor that Said was sent for schooling to Malam Katory, a reputed scholar described as being well-versed in Arabic, Persian, and Turkish. Presumably having such a respectable teacher in Arabic was expected for people of elite origins in Borno. Moreover, it was open to people who were not of Kanuri, Kanembu, or Shuwa origins, though Said clearly thought the Kanuri were the ruling class or caste and not above oppressing Shuwa, Kanembu, or other groups.
After establishing how internally diverse and dynamic Borno society was in the 19th century, it's important to consider Said as a native of Borno in the volatile 19th century world, experiencing steamships, railroads, European architecture and science. There is a long-running, underlying current of racial uplift in Said's autobiography, perhaps acquired from his experience in the US with African-Americans and whites. In his own manner, he attacks the argument of African inferiority, while implicitly casting Africans as primitive and the "race" as one in need of elevation through education and uplift. This is the basis for sensing some ambivalence in Said's experience of 'modernity' and tradition, one in which he can praise aspects of Borno and the Ottoman Turks while cursing African Islam as retrograde. Indeed, in Said's retelling of Borno's past and the history of African achievements in technology and handicrafts, he seems to think the palace ruins at Gambaru and Ngazargamu were the achievements of pre-Islamic Borno. Consequently, one can sense an ambivalence in Said's autobiography in terms of religion and race in a changing world. Thus, he can praise the example of the Haitian Revolution as an achievement for our race while wishing Haiti remained colony.
Experiencing the trans-Saharan slave trade first-hand, and 2 distinct but connected routes that carried him from Tripoli to Mecca and back), it is fascinating to see how someone who was reared Muslim and received an Islamic education for at least 2 years struggled with Islam. After baptism in Riga, at the pressure of his Russian aristocratic employer, Said appears to have gradually adopted more severe and dismissive attitudes to Islam. The religion of his homeland, indeed, is blamed for bringing destruction, fanaticism, and slave raiding. Since his audience for the autobiography consisted of Christian Americans in the 19h century, perhaps one can see Said embellishing or exaggerating his religious sentiments or identity. Yet he could have been sincere in those beliefs, and struggled to make sense of the "contest" between Christianity and Islam, the former better for Africa (and the "race"). In this light, it is interesting to compare Said with Edward Blyden. Unlike Blyden, who was not a product of an Islamic West African society, Said presented himself as a Christian who rejects Islam's influence in the continent. Blyden, on the other hand, saw Islam as preparing Africa for eventual Christianization, and in the meantime, promoting education and moderation for moral uplift. Like Said, Blyden did not truck with "fetishism" but both claimed to be for the race. Both also saw in the "mulatto" an implacable obstacle to countries like Haiti. How is it that two men with extensive traveling and education, both in favor of improving the "race," develop ambivalent attitudes toward Africa in the modern world while stressing the benefits of opposing religions? And what does this suggest for the role of Borno in the larger theme of Islam and modern Africa?