Focusing on Kanem, Borno, Lake Chad, Sahel, and West Africa from a historical perspective
4/12/26
Yusuf of Katsina?
11/4/24
The Prince of Katsina
One of the most interesting narratives, presented by its publisher as a "true story" of a West African Muslim prince enslaved in Jamaica, is The Prince of Kashna: A West Indian Story. While there is ambiguity about the factual basis for the story, Camille Lefebvre has suggested viewing it through the lens of a topos of West African Muslims and royalty enslaved in the Americas. In that regard, it is also interesting to note how some stories of real cases of West African Muslims literate in Arabic probably influenced the author, Jane McManus Storm Cazneau. We suspect she was influenced by stories of West African royalty enslaved in the West Indies and the US, and perhaps by fictional accounts such as Aphra Behn's famous Oroonoko: or, the Royal Slave.
However, we endeavored to determine to what extent, if any, the narrative could be based on a true story of a Muslim slave from Katsina who arrived in Jamaica in 1806. According to the early chapters of the text, Sidi Mahmadee, the titular prince, was born to Abdalah, the ruler of Katsina, and a woman taken as a captive from an unspecified northern location. Sidi Mahmadee, who lost his father and mother at a young age and left Katsina while still a youth, believed she may have been of Arab extraction. While possible, the straight-haired Mahmadee was too young when he left and may have misidentified his mother, who was possibly Fulani or from a Tuareg background. His father, the Katsina king, was later described as a descendant of the Prophet, Muhammad, and ruled a Katsina that included "pagans" as well as Muslims in his court. The only ruler of Katsina during the late 1790s and early 1800s who may correspond with this figure was Gozo, a Katsina sarki killed in c.1801 (assassinated, according to Yusuf Bala Usman). From the narrative, we learn that Sidi Mahmud was rather young when his parents were killed (in a raid on Katsina). He was taken in by an Islamic holyman and teacher, Hadji Ali, who raised the boy after his parents died. Meanwhile, the next king of Katsina, an uncle of Mahmadee named Taleb Ben Abu, reigned in Katsina but maintained his court in a separate place. If Gozo was succeeded by Bawa Dan Gima, a name which bears no resemblance to that given in this narrative, this is further evidence for the fabrication of the account. Indeed, Usman has argued that Bawa Dan Gima came from a distinct sub-lineage of the ruling house of Katsina, and was therefore unlikely to be a sibling of Gozo.
While it is possible that Mahmadee provided Arabic names or other regnal names for these figures, it seems unlikely that he was indeed from Katsina. He did correctly identify the presence of "fetishists" and Muslims in the pre-jihad Katsina court and noted the presence of Muslim scholars in the city, including the man who later adopted him, the lack of concordance with the established kings of Katsina during this period is telling. Intriguingly, however, Sidi Mahmadee's account includes a story of a white man with a red beard who visited Katsina and gave medicine to his adoptive father. This white man is said to have spoken the language of Mahmadee's mother when he came to Katsina, and was feared as a 'sorcerer' by locals. In fact, by using the white man's medicine, Mahmadee's adoptive father became suspect in the eyes of the community, prompting him to move back to his homeland somewhere to the west (we suspect he was a Fulani from a western territory). This tale of a strange white man's appearance in Katsina brings to mind the traveler Friederich Hornemann, who may have reached Katsina sometime in the early 1800s. However, since we know so little about Hornemann's time in Katsina, and it is possible the author of The Prince of Kashna had read his journal or descriptions of him, we cannot use this story to corroborate the existence of Mahmadee.
Besides the aforementioned vague descriptions of Katsina, the rest of the narrative is rather light on Mahmadee's African background. To be sure, if someone was kidnapped and sold into slavery while still an adolescent, they may not have the most profound or descriptive memories of their homeland when writing about it decades later. Nonetheless, we learn from his narrative that his adoptive father taught him to read the Koran, which appears to have been the limit of his Islamic education. When they left Katsina, which was done clandestinely since Mahmadee's uncle wanted him to stay, they appear to have traveled west. Somewhere in or around the fictitious Kong mountains, Mahmadee was kidnapped and sold into slavery. After being exchanged multiple times, he reached the coast, where he and other Hausa captives were sold to Europeans. This is another vague point in the narrative, since Mahmadee mentioned that there were many Mandingo captives on the slave ship. This would suggest that he had been sold on the coast of the Senegambian region, yet he mentioned several other Hausa captives alongside himself. Other inconsistencies abound in the text, but it is highly likely that Mahmadee's account of his voyage on the slave ship, where he was the recipient of special treatment and even helped the slave traders defeat French pirates, is a work of fiction.
Once in Jamaica, Mahmadee, after an unfortunate experience running away (only to be captured and returned by Maroons), experienced a remarkable series of fortunate luck. His master, Mr. Davis, and his family, are presented as rather benevolent and supportive of his interest in education. The novelist, or author of the narrative, wants to present Mahmadee as a grateful slave who, deprived of his original noble status, learns to appreciate superior Western education. Nonetheless, the fact that he was a Muslim and a prince in Katsina serves as an elevating factor, one that brings him closer to Western civilization despite ongoing Orientalist and racist narratives. The fact that the character often expresses dissatisfaction with African phenotypes and wishes to be white seems to reflect a white author's biases, although it is certainly possible that an African slave in 19th century Jamaica thought similarly. His willingness to obediently serve his white masters leads to him playing a key role in preventing a slave conspiracy from erupting into outright rebellion in Westmoreland. By the novel's conclusion, Mahmadee is an educated man studying medicine, French, and European literature, successful and civilized to the point of asking to wed a mixed-race ward of a "quadroon" from Saint Domingue. There are hints that he did eventually travel back to Africa, although certainly not as a Christian missionary eager to spread civilization and end slave trading in Katsina.
After reading the text in toto, we are convinced that it is almost certainly a work of fiction. While the author may have been inspired by tales of West African Muslims in Jamaica, such as Abu Bakr al-Siddiq, who was of partial Hausa heritage (linked to Katsina through his mother's family), it appears that Jane Cazneau wrote a fictional account that, while still racist, stressed the ability of some Africans to become assimilated to Western civilization and uplifted. Nonetheless, the elevation of the black African must be achieved through white tutelage, and slavery in early 19th century Jamaica is depicted as largely benign. None of the white slaveholders in the novel appear to abuse their slaves, and the ones most cruel to Mahmadee are enslaved overseers, Maroon slave-catchers or, in one case, a mixed-race engineer. Anyone looking for a work of fiction that honestly portrays the realities of chattel slavery in 19th century Jamaica will be disappointed. Yet, despite the occasionally racist narrative and dishonest depiction of slavery, this tale of an exotic West African Muslim does emphasize the perfectibility of the African, mediated via European tutelage. Interestingly, Mahmadee refuses to relinquish his Islamic identity, which may symbolize the author's recognition of Islam as a "legitimate" religion that elevated part of Black Africa before the inevitable European colonialism. To ascertain whether the character of Mahmadee was entirely invented, we would like to check 19th century Jamaican records, but our preliminary search has not led to an identification of any character from the narrative with a real person.
9/7/22
Katsina's Transformations
6/30/22
Abu Bakr al-Siddiq of Jamaica and Borno?
Although our sources for Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's maternal ancestry consist solely of his short Arabic autobiographies translated into English, it is interesting to consider his life in a "Central Sudanic" context. Incorporating Borno and Katsina into his biography and family background illustrates how connected or integrated West Africa in the precolonial era truly was. Cities in the "Western Sudan" like Jenne and Timbuktu, where Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family originated (though claiming descent from the Prophet), were closely tied to trading and learning centers such as Kong and Bouna. The ancient cities of Timbuktu and Jenne were also integrated into "Sudanic" trading routes to the east, through Hausaland and Borno all the way to the Red Sea. Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family history exemplifies this in a variety of ways. Therefore, one can view the family of al-Siddiq in various contexts: Atlantic World, Caribbean chattel slavery, Saharan and Sahelian Africa, and Dar al-Islam.
First, who was Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's mother? Named Naghodi in one of his autobiographies, a Hausa term meaning "I am thankful," her Islamic name was Hafsa. She was likely a later wife of his father, Kara Musa. Indeed, al-Siddiq's autobiography lists several half-siblings, indicating that his father had numerous children with at least one other woman or wife. His mother was born in the capital of Borno, presumably some time in the second half of the 18th century. However, her Hausa personal name and links to Katsina suggest Hausa heritage. In consideration of the close economic ties between Borno and Katsina, as well as the past history of Katsina as a tributary state of Kanem-Borno, we cannot rule out a Kanuri origin or affiliation for Naghodi through her father. Indeed, both Katsina and Gazargamo were major trading stops for trans-Saharan caravans coming crossing through the Fezzan and Agadez to reach the "Sudan." Migration of traders, Islamic scholars, and other groups between Katsina and Borno must have occurred on a large scale.
As for the identity of his maternal grandfather, al-Siddiq identified him as al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir of Borno AND Katsina. His mother was an infant during the pilgrimage of her father, and the pilgrimage to Mecca would have left Naghodi and her mother in Gazargamo for an extended period of time. This makes one think her maternal grandfather may have been a native of Gazargamo and perhaps from a large household with dependents, relatives, and economic means to support his children while abroad. Moreover, the inclusion of tafsir in his name points to a scholar with a background in Quranic exegesis. Furthermore, the fact that he went on the hajj at least once would have significantly increased his standing in Borno. Indeed, those who went on the hajj were even absolved of taxes by the Sayfawa rulers of Borno. Consequently, Muhammad Tafsir must have been of means, respected in Borno and Katsina, as well as someone who benefitted from the privileges of the hajj through tax incentives that Mai Ali maintained. Even if he was a Hausa or Fulani from Katsina, performing the hajj undoubtedly aided his business or trading concerns in Borno and beyond.
So, how exactly did al-Siddiq's father, Kara Musa, meet Naghodi? According to al-Siddiq, his father traveled to Katsina and Borno frequently, likely as a trader. A man from a reputable lineage in Timbuktu and the Middle Niger was likely an attractive prospect for al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir's daughter. Both men were probably traders, and the marriage of Naghodi to Kara Musa would have helped cement trading ties between them. One can surmise that Kara Musa was older than Naghodi and may have already possessed trade connections to Kong and sources of gold and kola nuts through his connections to Dyula trading and scholarly networks. Perhaps a marriage helped ensure honest dealings or trading partnership between Naghodi's father and Kara Musa? Evidence in favor of this can be found in al-Siddiq's allusion to his father sending gold, Egyptian silks, horses, mules, and other goods to his father-in-law.
This may have been initially part of a dowry, but his father's past of "always" traveling to Katsina and Borno hints at trade in goods, such as gold, motivating his travels from Jenne to Kong, Ghonah, and, eventually Katsina and Gazargamo. Evidence for traders from the Fezzan, Hausaland, and Borno knowing of Kong, Bouna, Dagomba, and the "Gold Coast" can be found in other sources, but the Dyula networks of Kara Musa would have been an excellent network for Hausa and Kanuri traders from the east to tap into for opening up relations with that part of West Africa. Perhaps Kara Musa's network and access to gold (and the possibility of kola nuts) intersected with Muhammad Tafsir's connections to Borno's salt and natron exports to Hausa cities?
Our other references to Hausaland or the 'Central Sudan" in the context of Abu Siddiq are more problematic or impressionistic. John Davidson's Notes Taken During Travels in Africa reports confirmation for al-Siddiq's illustrious pedigree in Morocco and the Sahara. Other informants even claim al-Siddiq was related to the rulers of Timbuktu, Kong, and "Houssa," which must be Katsina or a generalized Hausaland. While one can surmise from the earlier autobiographical fragments that al-Siddiq came from a respectable family with roots in the ulama of Timbuktu and Jenne, the grandiose relations attributed to him may not reflect the realities of post-jihadist West Africa. For example, Borno's capital was destroyed and abandoned by the time al-Siddiq returned to West Africa via Morocco. Katsina was also in a period of decline. The Sokoto Caliphate changed the political map of the "Central Sudan" and al-Siddiq would have been in the dark for about 30 years during these momentous decades. Nevertheless, one can see that several years after his bondage in Jamaica, al-Siddiq could still believably call upon powerful and politically connected relatives in Timbuktu, Kong, and Hausaland. This illustrates just how overlapping the worlds of Islam, "Sudanic" Africa, and the Atlantic were.
Bibliography
Barth, Heinrich. Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa: Being a Journal of an Expedition Undertaken Under the Auspices of H.B.M.'s Government in the Years 1849-1855. New York: D. Appleton, 1857.
Cohen, Ronald. The Kanuri of Bornu. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967.
Curtin, Philip D. Africa Remembered; Narratives by West Africans from the Era of the Slave Trade. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967.
Davidson, John. Notes Taken During Travels in Africa. London: J.L. Cox and Sons, 1839.
Dewière, Rémi. Du Lac Tchad À La Mecque: Le Sultanat Du Borno Et Son Monde (XVIe - XVIIe Siècle). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2017.
Gomez, Michael A. Black Crescent: The Experience and Legacy of African Muslims in the Americas. Cambridge ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005.
Lucas, Paul, Lédyard, John, Lallemant, Antoine J. (trans.), Voyages de MM. Lédyard et Lucas en Afrique, entrepris et publiés par ordre de la Société anglaise d’Afrique ; avec le plan de fondation de cette Société, et une carte du nord de l’Afrique, par le major Rennel : suivis d’extraits de Voyages faits à la rivière de Gambie, par ordre de la Compagnie anglaise d’Afrique, et d’un mémoire écrit sous le règne de Charles II, concernant la grande quantité d’or qu’on trouve près de cette rivière ; avec une carte de ce fleuve et de ses environs, tracée sur les lieux. Paris: Xhrouet, 1804.
Wilks, Ivor. The Northern Factor in Ashanti History. [Legon]: Institute of African Studies, University of Ghana, 1961.
5/29/22
Tripoli Chronicle
Because Anne-Charles Froment de Champlagarde's loose translation of a Libyan chronicle was in French rather than the German summary of Krause, we were able to read the full text more easily and gleam certain details on the history of Tripoli and Tripoli-Fezzan relations. However, Alain Blondy's introduction is actually more useful for an introduction or overview of the history of Tripolitania and the Fezzan from the period of c.1500-1800. Blondy's lengthy introduction, for instance, helped situate the conflicts over Tripoli in the 1500s between European Christians and, eventually, the Ottomans while providing a Tripoli-based perspective on the Fezzan and trans-Saharan trade. Much of the actual chronicle tracks the often difficult state of relations between Tripoli and Murzuq while the later sections cover the rise of the Qaramanli and the brutal conditions under which Yusuf seized power after slaying his brother.
Unfortunately, we still don't learn much about the local "negro sovereigns" of the Fezzan except for their various revolts and refusals to pay tribute to Tripoli. But some interesting details emerge in Blondy's introduction and the original text on the Fezzan's relations with Katsina and Borno. For instance, the idea of the Awlad Muhammad dynasty as vassals or quasi-vassals of the Sayfawa dynasty as demonstrated by mai Umar b. Idris executing al-Tahir. Or the importance of "black" merchants in Murzuq, the capital of the Awlad Muhammad rulers. Given that Kanuri was once widely spoken in the region, it might be safe to assume most of these "black" merchants were from Borno, although Hausa traders from Katsina were likely present. Thus, the Fezzan was intimately linked to the larger economy of the Borno and Hausaland, and may have derived much of its textiles, leather goods, and grain from the "Central Sudan" neighbors to the south.
Indeed, according to Claude Lemaire, about 500-600 slaves passed through the Fezzan from Borno annually, suggestive of the scale of the slave trade in the late 17th century between Tripoli and Borno. That number, though seemingly small, doesn't take into account high mortality rates or the role of Tripoli as a distribution center for African captives to other locations in the Mediterranean. As argued by other historians, Tripoli seems to have relied more heavily on this African slave trade through their tributary Fezzani neighbor than Borno, which raises questions on the role of the slave trade in Borno's economy. Yet influence or control of the Fezzan obviously mattered to the Sayfawa dynasty, since it allowed them to secure the trade routes to the Mediterranean and perhaps protect their own merchants active in the central Sahara or beyond. We would like to learn more about Idris Alooma's interests in the Fezzan during the 1570s and 1580s, as well as the mystery of an anonymous Spanish source from the 16th century mentioning direct military conflict between Borno and the Ottoman Empire in the Fezzan region.

