Showing posts with label Peasantry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peasantry. Show all posts

12/6/25

Chima and the Peasantry

A Kanuri village in Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan.

Although we have still not been able to procure a copy of Hauwa Mahdi's MA Thesis, we believe her essay, "A Tentative Reconstruction of the Political Economy of Metropolitan Borno in the 18th and Early 19th Centuries" is a worthy endeavor. In this essay, Mahdi endeavored to develop a more robust explanation for the political economy of Borno during what we consider the Late Sayfawa Period. In so doing, Mahdi highlights the exploitative system of taxation and tribute imposed on farmers, or peasants. Unsurprisingly, she disagrees with the racist and condescending approach of Palmer, whose racialized lens turned the Sayfawa into enslavers on a massive scale. Yet she also took issue with Muhammad Nur Alkali's work for not properly addressing Palmer's comments on slavery and the slave trade within Borno. We shall begin with a brief overview of Mahdi's argument before addressing an early, colonial-era report on the chima system. 

For Mahdi, the basic unit of production was the peasant family. In a family plot, household labor was obviously key. On the general plot worked by the family, everyone contributed their labor. However, the wives of the male head of the household had their own smaller plots they were expected to work on. This meant that women were expected to provide labor on the general plot of their husband whilst also working on their own lands (Mahdi 4). Fortunately, a peasant farmer had the right to leave the land they worked to their children (5). But in terms of private ownership of the land, the peasant was not so secure in their rights. Moreover, they were also compelled to pay a number of taxes to the holder of the fief in which their lands fell. They could also be conscripted for military service or coerced into providing labor with other peasants on the lands held by the chima. This practice of forced labor on lands held by the elite was called surwa. Mahdi was told by oral informants that peasants had no real way to refuse this practice. After all, "Who are you to refuse?" In addition, the lands held by the elite were also worked by slaves (6).

The chima system of fief allocations usually favored elites based in Gazargamo (or, later, Kukawa). This group of absentee fief-holders appointed chima gana, or representatives to oversee the districts they held as fiefs. In terms of actual administration of these territories, the local representatives for the fief-holder were responsible for collecting taxes and the administrative, military, and legal apparatus overseeing the territory. The taxes were numerous: gidiram, biniram, zakat, sadaqa and various market, toll, and customs taxes. The first was a general tax on peasants, a ground tax, of up to 10% of their produce. The second, a cold season tax, and zakat, a corn tithe were also collected. The sadaqa was also a cold season tax. The market taxes and others would have had more of an impact in the towns or market centers that attracted traders and artisans (9-10). Besides these taxes, peasants could also be compelled to send gifts to the the higher classes. Needless to say, those responsible for administering the fiefs relied on the appropriation of the surplus of farmers. In other words, notables of Borno who allegedly provided protection of the state to peasant communities were also the very forces that consumed the surplus of the peasantry. As the dominant sector of society, this group could further their own interests and increase tribute or tax obligations or administer "justice" in ways that were opposed to the peasant producers.

Since Alkali did not properly respond to Palmer's mischaracterization of precolonial Borno's political economy and emphasized the Sayfawa's "protection" of the people without analysis of the exploitative nature of the fief system, Mahdi is very critical. Indeed, she accuses Alkali of substituting the Sayfawa for the "nation" of Borno and minimizing the coercive nature of the surwa system. After all, if the chima could appoint local agents who then imposed several taxes on peasants and forced them to labor on the lands of the elite, there was a system of class exploitation in place. Consequently, even if one agrees with Mahdi that private land tenure as such as perhaps on the cusp of developing in Borno, those who held land titles from the mai and received fiefs could extract labor from free peasants, impose taxes, and also exploit slave labor to increase their wealth. That the holders of the fief were expected to stay in Gazargamo perhaps made it even easier for their local agents to extract additional surplus through various "gifts" peasants were expected to give. Mahdi's attempt to link this exploitative system and peasant discontent with the uprisings at Misau and Marte, unfortunately, are underdeveloped though worthy of exploration (18).

What about J.R. Patterson's views of the chima system and the peasantry in Borno? Writing in c. 1918, Patterson traveled around the Borsari District to gather information for a report. This district, now in Yobe State, included Gambaru and other sites close to Gazargamo. The area was named after the town of Mbursari, once the headquarters of a kachella named Mbursa. This kachella once owned large fiefs in the area. The chimas, lamentably, lacked any surviving records from the period of Sayfawa rule. Informants told Patterson that the records were destroyed or stolen when Rabeh conquered Borno in the 1890s (Patterson 9). But for the period of the 19th century when the al-Kanemi dynasty ruled, oral tradition provided some clues. Thus, the chimas in this period were held by the royal family, chief slaves, and councilors of the Shehu. In other words, the political elit, who were lon-resident landlords based in Kukawa. Some were even able to become hereditary fief holders passing on their lands to an heir (10). These powerful people also chose the village chiefs, collected taxes, and appointed mallams for judicial affairs through their chima gana. Moreover, they also derived additional wealth through the kariari, or slave, settlements, whose residents paid a portion of their produce to their "owner" (13). 

In terms of actual village-level administration and taxation, the headmen were appointed by the chima gana. They were under constant pressure from them. These village headmen often bought their position by giving rich presents to the chima gana (14-15). Naturally, this meant that a village headmen (the bulama or marumawa) could just as easily lose their post if someone else gave richer gifts to the chima gana. The buying and selling of village leadership positions may have pressured the headmen to overtax or exploit their positions. Even the chima gana and their messengers demanded gifts on top of the biniram tax (42). The farm rent, or Keskaram tax, was another way for the chima gana and village headmen to demand additional payments of gifts or money from the talakawa. This even included the expectation for additional gifts at festivals or other times for the chimas to redistribute the "gifts" upwards to the Shehu (43). In short, the taxation or tribute system included several opportunities for unfair expectations of "gifts" or extra payment from the peasantry. Since the holder of the fief was based in Kukawa (or, earlier, in Gazargamo), they likely relied on their chima gana to maximize surplus appropriation in their various fiefs. The fact that village leadership could be bought by paying the chima gana could have put the bulama and maruma in a position where they too had to rely on coercive measures to extract additional taxes or "gifts" from the talakawa

But was the system of taxation always so oppressively exploitative? Surprisingly, Patterson's report suggests that the village headmen were indeed accountable to their village community. According to Patterson, "Obliged, as he was, to respond to the exorbitant and incessant demands of the Chima Gana and at the same time to keep on good terms with his 'talakawa' to whom he was often little better than a peg on which to hang their ills, a headman's term of office was usually only as long as his purse" (14). If this characterization is generalizable, then only in large villages where a headman was wealthy and more powerful than the chima gana were they able to occupy their office for a long period of time. In most cases, the village headmen were under pressure from both the peasantry and the chima gana, indicating that the talakawa could and did resist their exploitation. How exactly this took form is unclear, but they presumably expected the headmen to convey their discontent or grievances to the chima gana or even higher up the hierarchical administrative chain. One thinks of a word translated by Ali Eisami and Koelle, burguma, that is often associated with crying out for help to the king due to oppression. In this case, it may have also been addressed to charismatic mallams or reformers. As the Manga Revolt of the 1820s illustrates, mallams could become leaders in peasant movements against central authority. Of course, the political context of the Manga Revolt was complex as it involved a pro-Sayfawa movement against the leadership of al-Kanemi.

Unlike the chimas, other parts of Borno were mallam's towns, the so-called mallamti. They were founded by a mallam who received the land titles from the Shehu. They were not supposed to add subsidiary towns or farms to their land nor receive people. They also paid no taxes to the chimas near them. However, the leaders of mallam settlements or lands were expected to pray visit Kukawa to give a present to the Shehu and say the al fatia (13). Although they were not expected to take in newcomers and add more land to their domains, the mallamti settlements could grow to be prosperous communities over time. Undoubtedly, it was in the interests of the chimas to stop them from growing or threatening their control of the population living on their fiefs. To what extent this was possible to enforce in the centuries before the 1800s is unclear. One can easily imagine situations in which ineffective chima ganas could not prevent peasants from flocking to mallam settlements or villages, or perhaps escaping clandestinely to join these settlements away from oppressive chima taxation. Further study of mallamtis could illuminate this aspect of rural Borno's tensions between mallams and secular/state-affiliated land title holders eager to bleed the peasantry.

To return to Mahdi's analysis, there is an undeniable exploitative nature of the chima system. It relied on the appropriation of the surplus of farmers. These peasants could access land in a village, but by doing so were obligated to pay taxes or tribute in various guises to the recipient of the land title based in Gazargamo (or Kukawa, after the fall of the old capital). This meant that the peasant household production system was forced into an unequal relationship with the state's officials. These officials, supposedly providing protection to the farming communities in their fiefs, used a coterie of officials, local village headmen, and messengers to impose taxation. This taxation and tribute could also include coerced or forced labor on the private lands within the fief held by the chima. At various moments, the peasant could also be expected to provide "gifts" to these aforementioned officials. As for the local side of the equation, the rotating door of village headmen meant that the chima ganas and talakawa were likely engaged in constant struggle. The former sold the position of village headmen to whoever gave them the richest gifts. The latter continued to expect the headmen to represent the interests of the community and likely resisted him. Thus, the chima ganas and their messengers occasionally faced resistance from farmers who revolted or, as we suspect, fled to settlements of the mallams or sought redress from the mai. While the overall picture is more consistent with the analysis of Mahdi, documentation from the Sayfawa period is sorely lacking to confirm a number of details. Nonetheless, we believe it likely that the peasantry resisted their unfair oppression in a plethora of ways. To what extent peasant discontent really fueled the fall of the Sayfawa dynasty and the jihad remains to be seen. 

9/25/25

Mallam Abu Gantur's Uprising

 
 A map showing the area from Gajiram to Dikwa in Borno on Google. The revolt began near Gajiram and was defeated before reaching Dikwa in 1894. 

Another moment in which the peasantry of Borno were politically active and engaged in rebellion was the movement led by a charismatic mallam named Abu Gantur. Written sources and oral traditions are contradictory about specific details of the leader and the movement, but it represents a moment of peasant or talaka rebellion. Although rather distinct from the 1820s uprising of the Manga against al-Kanemi, it nonetheless demonstrates one of the extreme manifestations of subaltern groups contesting the political order in Borno. In this case, as a movement to free Borno from the rule of Sudanese warlord Rabih. However, like the Manga revolt, a charismatic religious figure provided the leadership for it, with religion (and superstition, depending on how one interprets the sources) and possibly millenarian beliefs shaping its discourse and actions. Let's take a closer look at the revolt to see how it both follows and diverges from the Manga rebels.

As always, we must begin with a discussion of the sources. Kyari Mohammed, whose Borno in the Rabih years, 1893-1901: The Rise and Crash of a Predatory State presents a fine analysis based on oral tradition and archival sources, perhaps offers the most comprehensive account of Abu Gantur's movement. Also, H.R. Palmer's Gazetteer of Bornu Province mentions Abu Gantur by another name, Mallam Buki, without any real analysis (Palmer 24). As for W.K.R. Hallam, whose The Life and Times of Rabih is detailed, reports some of the same traditions as Mohammed. However, he differs from Mohammed by asserting a Gombe origin for Abu Gantur (Hallam 145). Decorse and Gaudefroy-Demombynes translated an Arabic source in Rabah et les Arabes du Chari: documents Arabes et vocabulaire that mention a battle between Rabih with "Abou Qantour west of Dikwa (Decorse & Gaudefroy-Demombynes 13). Another source, Captain Julien's "Mohamed-es-Senoussi et ses États, likewise reports on Abu Gantur. Unlike the others, he suggests Gantour was based in or from Maiduguri. He was also said to have rejected the "Mahdi of the Turks" behind Rabih (Julien 132). The last source we could locate online was in an article from L'Afrique française: bulletin mensuel du Comité de l'Afrique française. According to this 1918 article, Gantur led a rabble of followers from Maiduguri against Rabih, but was defeated at N'Gomati. This article, published several years after the event, is of even less utility, but emphasizes the humble roots of Gantur's supporters. In addition to his work on the Rabih period, Louis Brenner's study of the al-Kanemi dynasty in the 19th century provides a number of interesting details on the crises of incompetent leadership, economic decline, and excessive taxation which made the peasantry of Borno less likely to support the al-Kanemi rulers. Overall, Mohammed's study, informed by archival research and fieldwork in Borno, likely presents the most reliable account of Abu Gantur.

Next, a short review of the movement. According to Mohammed, Abu Gantur was a Koyam Mallam sometimes called Mallam Buki or Mallam Njimtilo. His revolt began from the Nganzai area after Rabih's successful defeat of the Shehu of Borno (Mohammed 53). That he was also remembered as a Koyam Mallam is significant, since the Koyam were linked to Kalumbardo. Although the later incarnations of Kalumbardo appear to have lost their ascetic, Sufi orientation, Koyam mallams may have retained aspects of this Sufi orientation and reputation for piety. Indeed, according to tradition, Shehu al-Kanemi was reputed to be suspicious of a Koyam Sufi marabout linked to Kalumbardo and renowned for his spiritual power  (Mission Tilho 366). Zeltner, whose source is unclear, also reported that al-Kanemi himself had studied with the Koyam (Zeltner 200). It would be intriguing if tradition could confirm a link to Kalumbardo for Abu Gantur to the same Sufi tradition. 

Returning his movement, Gantur preached rebellion in the Nganzai area, near Gajiram. Claiming power over jinn or spirits, Gantur denounced Rabih. His supposedly uncoordinated movement with millenarian tendencies burgeoned into a following of 20,000 (Mohammed 54). His force defeated troops sent by Rabih, then burned Kuli, Marte and Mussene during their march to Dikwa, the capital of Rabih in Borno. These towns were burned or pillaged for refusing to join the rebels. Unfortunately, the rebels were defeated at Damagda, near Mufiyo. Rabih led troops armed with firearms against the mostly unarmed "rabble" behind Gantur. Intriguingly, Gantur's movement apparently lacked any ties to the resistance of the al-Kanemi dynasty, and aristocrats were opposed to Gantur. Mohammed suggests this was likely due to Gantur's expressed desire to seize control of Borno (56). This could be true, since the founder of the al-Kanemi dynasty had first emerged to political authority through seizing effective rule during a crisis. Thus, oral traditions of Shehu Kyari requesting mallams pray for the defeat of Gantur are plausible. Other traditions report that Gantur lost the support of the jinns after accepting a bridge from Rabih. Alternatively, it is possible that after marrying 3 women, the jinns left him (Mohammed 56). These traditions seem to imply that Gantur claimed to be the husband of a powerful jinn who left him out of jealousy. Thus, abandoned by the spirits, his mostly unarmed followers were powerless against a well-trained force armed with modern firearms. H.R. Palmer was simply told that Gantur lost due to being "remiss in his prayers" (Palmer 24). Hallam, on the other hand, repeated a variant of one of the traditions cited by Mohammed. Essentially, Gantar was abandoned by his jinn wife after taking a Kanuri bride given to him by Rabeh (Hallam 145).

In short, the rebellion, led by a charismatic religious figure of Koyam extraction, was brutally crushed. The Koyam of Nganzai and the Badawi of Gubio had their livestock seized by Rabih's government for supporting it. Even the Magumi Furibe were punished for supporting Gantur (Mohammed 88). Although the Koyam of Nganzai rebelled again in c.1896 and killed the chima gana Sugur of Gadim, the movement of Gantur was utterly eradicated. While popular tradition suggests supernatural causes for the defeat, one must look more closely at the nature of the movement and its popular support to understand why it failed to overthrow the Sudanese warlord, Rabih. Fortunately, Emile Julien's description of Abu Gantur provides some clues about the nature of the movement. According to him, "Abou Gantour" was based din Maiduguri, today the capital of Borno State in Nigeria. He was a faki who preached a holy war of national liberation against Rabeh, associated with the "Turks" in Julien's account. Through his friendship with spirits, Gantur allegedly held superior occult powers to that of the "Mahdi of Turcs." With this divine power assuring his followers of victory, peasants rallied behind him with calls of "Koun fi ye koun" (soit dans ce qui est). They were only armed with branches or sticks (Julien 132). Unfortunately, his 20,000 followers were defeated at N'Goumati when Gantur's forces charged Rabih's well-armed gunmen. Since the spirits didn't save him, he was killed, beheaded, and his followers ravaged (Julien 133). Julien's account suggests that Gantur may have seen Rabih as a supporter of the Mahdi. It is possible that some in Borno believed Rabih was a proponent of Mahdism since Hayatu of the Sokoto Caliphate hoped to win Rabih's support for an invasion of Sokoto (Mohammed 112). However, Julien's description of Gantur presents him as referring to Rabih as a "Turk" invader. It is not entirely clear, but it would appear that Gantur rejected Rabih's rule on the grounds of his "Turk" background and the authority of the Mahdi. Even though Rabih was not considered by most to be a genuine Mahdist, it would seem that Gantur presented him as one (Mohammed 108). His popular support must have also represented both the appeal of a charismatic religious figure, the belief in his spiritual authority and holiness, and the fact that the disconnect between the peasantry and the ruling class was too extreme for any genuine inter-class project of liberation. If the al-Kanemi dynasty had truly lost legitimacy after overtaxing the peasantry, particularly with the Kumoreji tax under Shehu Hashimi, and then lost whatever appeal afterwards by their utter failure to defeat Rabih, the peasantry had no choice but to rally around a religious figure.

If one accepts the interpretation of Cohen of Kanuri society as one in which powerful men (and usually men at this time) accumulated dependents who came to them for protection and security, then the lack of competent elites of the al-Kanemi dynasty left the peasantry no choice. If there were no legitimate leaders or wealthy elites who could provide protection and opportunities for advancement, the rural masses could only turn to a charismatic mallam like Gantur. Unlike the Manga Uprising of 1824, which included local Mangari leadership as well as a charismatic mallam, this rebellion lacked powerful elites to whom alliances or support could easily be extended. There was no galadima or Sayfawa mai the peasants could appeal to, from an alliance with, or use to legitimize their revolt. What would be more interesting to consider is why other towns or villages refused to join the movement. The movement's failure to appeal to more communities, including those with better arms, likely contributed to their downfall as it became clear Rabih's forces possessed superior firearms and military training. And if the traditions of Abu Gantur falling for a bride sent by Rabih suggest anything, there may be a hint at an attempt on Rabih's part to coopt the movement. While ultimately unsuccessful, Gantur's defeat was explained by supernatural reasons in tradition. More importantly, the absence of a well-armed, or at least a peasant accustomed to warfare spelled doom for Gantur. The Manga were accustomed to self-defense, had expertise in the use of poison arrows, and could hold their own against cavalry sent by al-Kanemi.

In conclusion, the revolt led by Abu Gantur represents a fascinating moment of peasant political mobilization in Borno. Though unsuccessful and brutally crushed, the uprising suggests many things about the nature of class, power, religion, and political contest. In order to best protect themselves and sometimes advance socio-economically, dependents attached themselves to patrons. The most talented ones sometimes became influential figures in their own right. Borno by the 1890s, however, was in crisis with a ruling elite probably devoid of legitimacy. Given these conditions of overtaxation and the failure of the al-Kanemi dynasty to provide protection, the peasantry turned to an influential Koyam mallam, Gantur, who may have adapted Sufi and ascetic practices from the Kalumbardo school. He claimed support from spirits and rejected Rabih as a foreign "Turk" and Mahdist. Without alliances from wealthy patrons with access to weapons, better arms, and more troops, the movement failed to coalesce into a broader rebellion across Borno. In fact, traditions suggest the al-Kanemi dynasty actively sought the defeat of Gantur. This failure to create cross-class alliances across more of Borno promised disaster for Gantur, whose followers were massacred at Damagda. The Manga uprising of the 1820s also failed, but that uprising included both a charismatic mallam and local elites with a well-armed peasantry. They also could use the Sayfawa to legitimize their revolt and use their important frontier location as a "bargaining chip" of sorts. 

Bibliography

Brenner, Louis. The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973.

Cohen, Ronald. The Kanuri of Bornu. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967.

Hallam, W. K. R. The Life and Times of Rabih Fadh Allah. Ilfracombe: Stockwell, 1977.

Julien, Émile. "Mohamed-es-Senoussi et ses États." Bulletin de la société des recherches congolaises 10, 1925.

Mohammed, Kyari. Borno in the Rabih Years, 1893-1901 : the Rise and Crash of a Predatory State. Maiduguri, Nigeria : University of Maiduguri, 2006.

Palmer, H.R. Gazetteer of Bornu Province.  Lagos: Govt. Printer, 1929.

Tilho, Jean (editor). Documents Scientifiques De La Mission Tilho. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1910.

Zeltner, J. C. Pages D'histoire Du Kanem: Pays Tchadien. Paris: Harmattan, 1980.

9/20/25

The Manga Revolt of 1824 and the Peasantry in Borno


"The squirrel said he eats all sorts of roots except the talaka root—that one is too bitter." 
-Manga Proverb

One of the intriguing episodes in Borno history witnessed by Denham in 1824 was an uprising of the Manga people. While the revolt has been analyzed by historians such as Lovejoy, Maikorema Zakari, Louis Brenner, and other scholars of Borno history, we believe it is important for many reasons. First, as a peasant rebellion in the name of the Sayfawa dynasty, the revolt forces one to reconsider the relationship between the ruling class of the Sayfawa dynasty and the peasantry. Second, even if mainly opportunistic in terms of the Sayfawa ruler, the revolt was led by a charismatic Muslim cleric. This suggests Islamic leaders were, at least sometimes, a voice for the oppressed and exploited peasantry. Thirdly, the revolt may have been connected to the struggle over the salt-producing areas. Despite the lack of clarity on the nature of pre-19th century salt production in the region, the Manga migration into the area may have marked the beginning of commoner control over a major economic resource. Thus, the revolt poses interesting questions on the nature of slave and peasant production in precolonial Borno and how subaltern classes negotiated the control over resources with the ruling class in a state of transition.  

According to Denham, the revolt was led by Fanaamy, a charismatic Muslim cleric renowned for his ability to make charms. The same source described him as a man with one side of his face hairless and another side covered by a thick beard.[1] The Manga revolt arose, with Fanaamy as the mover, after they slaughtered 120 Shuwa Arab allies of al-Kanemi. Since the Manga had not fully accepted the authority of al-Kanemi as the effective head of government and the collection of tribute from the province always provoked bloodshed, the Manga decided to declare themselves as the subjects of the Sayfawa mai and attacked settlements loyal to al-Kanemi. Although Denham suggests the Manga rebels were capable of raising 12,000 archers, it is unclear exactly how many soldiers they had.[2] They ultimately submitted to the Shehu after the latter sent 8000-9000 Kanembu spearmen and 5000 Shuwa and Bornoan (Kanuri?) forces against the rebels. 

Before putting down the revolt, however, the rebels were able to partly burn and pillage towns like Kabshary. Rhamadan, placed at Kabshary after its residents fled the Manga attack, used a ruse to defeat a much larger force of about 800 Manga rebels. Through this ruse, his smaller force, with only 12 Shuwa Arabs armed with guns, was able to slaughter 400 of the rebels. By the third of June, Rhamadan and Dawud were able to capture 800 Manga captives, women and children, to present to the Shehu. But, al-Kanemi being politically shrewd, freed the women and children on the grounds that they were Muslims and innocent of causing the revolt. The booty taken from the Manga captives also included horses and livestock. Later, by the fifth of June, the Manga began to submit to the Shehu, except for Fanaamy, who sent a peace offering that included thousands of slaves, cattle and 300 horses on the following day. The malam, however, eventually came to submit to al-Kanemi due to the intervention of the Shehu's personal reputation as a maker of charms and his use of the British travelers in Borno to fire two rockets. The rockets, which were seen by Fanaamy's son, awed the Manga who had never seen such a thing.[3] 

By the next day, Fanaamy came to submit to al-Kanemi with 1000 followers. To his great surprise, the leader of the rebellion was given fine clothes and Egyptian turbans. According to Denham, al-Kanemi had no intention of leading a brutal slaughter of the Manga. Due to their location on the borderland, the Manga were known as warriors using poison arrows and accustomed to combat with the Tuareg and Fulani.[4] As such, it was in the interests of the state to conciliate the Manga and restore peace to protect the border. Thus, al-Kanemi relied on his own reputation as a renowned malam to write charms to dull and damage the spears and arrows of the rebels. The renown of al-Kanemi for his charms was surely known in Borno since he used them when defeating the Fulani jihadists who had seized Birni Gazargamo, allegedly using a calabash filled with charm water.[5] Additionally, Denham personally believed his rockets also had a major effect by terrifying the Manga. Indeed, Fanaamy was said to have declared, "That to withstand a sheikh of the Koran who performed such miracles was useless, and at the same time, haram (sin)." Fanaamy's inability to resist the superior power of al-Kanemi convinced the Manga to submit.[6] 

If Denham's account for the conflict, which he personally did not witness most of, can be considered reliable, it suggests that al-Kanemi led a large force of Kanembu, Arab, and Kanuri soldiers against the Manga to intimidate and frighten them. Then, after scoring a few victories and using his reputation as a holy man with the ability to write powerful charms, he was able to force most of the Manga leaders to submit to his authority. The account of Denham, however, ignores the Manga chiefs who led their villages in rebellion except to report on their submission. Moreover, since Denham believed the mai of Borno, Ibrahim, to be a powerless puppet of al-Kanemi with only the illusion of power through a subsidy from the Shehu, perhaps the lingering loyalty of parts of the Borno population to the Sayfawa dynasty was more meaningful than he realized. Last but certainly not least, the conflict over control of salines, or sites for natron production in Mangari may have fueled the conflict, too. Exploring each of these factors is necessary to understand the Manga Revolt from as many angles as possible. 

First, the lingering appeal to the authority of the Sayfawa. Although largely powerless since 1808, the Sayfawa loyalists still included 260-300 courtiers in the 1820s. So, even if Ibrahim reigned by the sufferance of al-Kanemi, there were still many in Borno who chose to remain loyal to the Sayfawa house.[7] Indeed, despite his young age of around 22, Ibrahim may have been closely watching the Manga rebellion from a supportive or at least neutral perspective. After all, Ibrahim was present on the campaign.[8] Furthermore, Ibrahim was eager to assert his authority after the death of al-Kanemi in the next decade, when he tried to force Shehu Umar to come to his court and pledge allegiance. Therefore, it is hard to imagine the sultan of Borno being completely unaware of rebels in Mangari pledging their allegiance to him. Of course, al-Kanemi likely kept a close watch on Ibrahim at this critical time since a previous king, Dunama, had planned to defeat al-Kanemi with the aid of Bagirmi in 1820.[9] 

Further evidence of remaining Sayfawa loyalism may also be seen in the history of Mangari, Muniyo and western Borno before the fall of the Birni Gazargamo. According to Muhammad Nur Alkali, the galadima of Nguru was closely tied to the Manga.[10] A Kanuri praise song for galadima Dunama Aisatu, who lived in the 18th century, refers to familial ties to the ruler of Muniyo.[11] Since the position of galadima was held by descendants of the Sayfawa ruler, Umar b. Idris, and its dynasty had close ties with the Manga and the vassal state of Muniyo, it is possible that the Manga rebels of 1824 were proclaiming their Sayfawa loyalties due to much deeper ties than one may initially presume. While the region of the Manga rebels in 1824 was once occupied by the Koyam for about 250 years, the Sayfawa court official, the zigibada, of slave origin, had the administrative district encompassing Manga, Borsari, Wulegi and supervision of the Koyam.[12] This titled official survived the transition to the al-Kanemi dynasty, and was possibly someone who would have paid close attention to events in Mangari at the time of the revolt. If this official had survived in the Sayfawa court, he may have been sympathetic to the Manga rather than al-Kanemi. While our reasoning is speculative, it is known that al-Kanemi endeavored to place as many areas of Borno under the control of his own following, the Kanembu and Shuwa allies.[13] Is it conceivable that forces opposed to al-Kanemi but also with strong ties to the Sayfawa going back centuries, may have clandestinely supported the Manga? Surely, the galadima and zigibada may have wanted to protect their own interests in the region and preserve, to whatever extent possible, zones of influence and “fiefs” (chima).[14] 

Image: Map of Muniyo and the nearby region, in 1854 (from Zakari's Contribution à l 'histoire des populations du Sud-Est Nigérien: Cas du Mangari (XVIè-XIXè siècle).

Lovejoy, whose Salt of the Desert Sun adopts a more economic perspective on the Manga Revolt, characterizes it as a peasant uprising. According to Lovejoy, the Manga revolted in an assertion of their rights to the salt districts of Goubei by championing Sayfawa restoration.[15] Lovejoy's fascinating thesis raises the question of peasants (the Manga) using control or access to a major resource (natron, and areas for natron production) to defend their own economic rights. Since Manga as an appellation is often equated with talaka status, the Manga uprising as a peasant revolt over who would control the salines in Mangari is an attractive hypothesis. Since the Manga peasants worked in the salines during the dry season and used that natron to trade and access goods acquired via the Hausa states, ensuring they could access the salines without too many obstacles was imperative.[16] Unfortunately, oral traditions and written sources are unclear about the fief distribution which encompassed the salt-producing areas. If, as seems the case, al-Kanemi assigned them to his allies in Kukawa rather than the traditional elites (perhaps those aligned with the Sayfawa court and the zigibada), the Manga uprising makes additional sense. While the nature of the tribute or taxation the Manga refused to pay is left unclear in Denham's account of the revolt, that the Shuwa were sent to collect it may serve as evidence that al-Kanemi had reassigned fiefs in the region to Shuwa allies. When the Manga began migrating in larger numbers to the region near the salines after the fall of Birni Gazargamo, they may have come to enjoy greater autonomy until al-Kanemi reassigned fiefs and demanded tribute payments. 

Yet, a problem with Lovejoy's perspective on the revolt is the lack of clear evidence for this in oral traditions. Although the natron produced by Manga laborers must have been part of the tribute or taxes demanded by Shuwa allies of al-Kanemi, oral traditions do not emphasize this factor. Maikorema Zakari, whose study of Mangari is based on oral traditions, gives a fuller perspective than Denham. According to Zakari, the Manga began to migrate to the east in the early 1800s, fleeing the harsh rule of Kosso of Muniyo. Their first locality in the east was Wogum, founded in 1801. Mainé-Soroa, one of the Manga centers of the 1824 revolt, was founded sometime later by Digagi Kaumi.[17] Landeroin, on the other hand, was told that the Manga at the time obeyed lawans appointed by the rulers of Borno and Muniyo. The ruler of Muniyo, Kosso, however, often interceded directly with the Manga settlements, superseding the lawans and bulamas.

Returning to Mainé-Soroa, Landeroin was told the ancestor of its chief was Adem Lafiami, whose son, Kagoumi, became dougaji in the early 1800s when invested by mai Dunama of Borno. Landeroin's informants told him Kagoumi was succeeded by his son, Nasser, who founded Maine-Soroa. Nasser was said to have been appointed by al-Kanemi to the post of bulama for the community.[18] Zakari, on the other hand, was informed that Nasser and his allies of Mainé-Soroa played a key role in the 1824 revolt led by Malam Fanaamy. Shehu al-Kanemi was even said to have ordered the killing of Nasser with other leaders in Kukawa after the revolt.[19] Thus, despite making peace with the malam who led the revolt and was incorporated into the regime, local chiefs were later removed from their positions of authority and killed. But, oral traditions recorded by Landeroin suggest the succession to the position of bulama and lawan remained in the family.[20]

While the oral traditions give a somewhat fuller picture to the revolt, much remains uncertain. Apparently, the origins of Mainé-Soroa can be traced to a local chief appointed by one of the last Sayfawa rulers. Since the Manga migrated eastward were already fleeing the oppressive taxation of Kosso of Muniyo, they may have also come to resent changes in the administration of the region ushered in by the al-Kanemi regime. While respecting the local lineage in Mainé-Soroa through confirmation of their positions, al-Kanemi's Shuwa allies probably tried to collect taxes from fiefs in the region, which probably included salines. The leaders of Mainé-Soroa and other settlements, however, may have administered the region with an eye to preserve their independence and protect their communities from the encroaching state and Tuareg bandits. According to Michael Horowitz, whose Manga informants were questioned on various aspects of Manga inter-group relations with other ethnic groups, the village chief bulama had limited authority. While able to order the villagers to work on his land, he could not act independently of the lawan. The latter, lamentably, could abuse their authority more easily, especially when they could pay off the representative from the central government. If the chief was truly tyrannical, the residents of the area would unite to gather money and send a representative to complain to the ruler at the capital. Other Manga interviewed by Horowitz reported that if Manga leaders were too oppressive, people could leave the village or request a new chief.[21] Due to their recently established villages in the region, the local leaders may have been more careful to preserve their following and grow their communities. Consequently, this may have made the lawan less eager to collect taxes on grain or salt for the Shehu and his representatives, after being appointed by al-Kanemi to divide and rule the region.[22] This would have led to conflict with new chima distributions in the area when al-Kanemi took power, particularly if the newcomers were Shuwa Arabs without any deep roots in the area and eager to maximize tax collection. 

The Manga, in response, revolted with the aid of a charismatic faqih renowned for his ability to write charms. Said to have spent time in the south, Fanaamy may have been an outsider in the community whose renown for writing charms and stature as a malam made him a figure around which the communities could rally. If so, then this represents both a peasant revolt legitimized by Islam and the legacy of the Sayfawa. This is rather different from past revolts in Borno by communities refusing to pay taxes or tribute (at least from the little that is known?). For instance, the rebellions during the reign of Idris b. Ali in the 16th century lacked any clear Islamic inspiration (assuming Islam had made little inroads among the two Sao groups, the Ngizim, the Bade, and others) and were sometimes led by decentralized groups. A clearer demonstration of the acceptance of Islam or at least Islamic legitimacy for building peasant communities free of oppressive taxation cannot be found other than in the case of the Manga uprising. However, the growth of villages affiliated with the shaykhs of the Koyam may be another example of this growing stature of Islamic holy men as figures for social reform or at least more just government. According to tradition, their wise, just rule attracted residents who would not wish to remain under the heel of poorly administered chima.[23] 

Although al-Kanemi succeeded in crushing the Manga revolt with little bloodshed, the Manga rose again in 1846. By this time, mai Ibrahim requested the aid of Waday to defeat Shehu Umar, the son of al-Kanemi.[24] The forces of Waday were defeated and Ibrahim killed, but the Manga insurrection of the same year threatened Shehu Umar. Once again, the Manga of Mainé-Soroa led the attack on Shehu Umar in the hopes of profiting from the Waday invasion.[25] Although the sources do not suggest Ibrahim of the Sayfawa was in communication with the Manga rebels, it is possible they were partly motivated by the wish to support the Sayfawa. This second rebellion also supports the idea that local leaders within the eastern Manga communities continued to resist the divide and conquer strategy implemented by al-Kanemi after the 1824 revolt. The major difference with this uprising, though, is the conspicuous lack of a malam or Islamic leader. 

This review of the 1824 Manga rebellion raises questions on the nature of class, production, Islamic legitimacy and ideology for social reform, and relations between the Sayfawa dynasty and the peasantry. Undoubtedly, other push factors like oppressive rule in Muniyo and pull factors like the abandonment of Birni Gazargamo leading to an area with weak central authority afterwards were also factors causing the revolt. But the past Manga connections with the galadima holders in Nguru, who were resistant to al-Kanemi but linked to the Sayfawa, may have been part of a pro-Sayfawa stance of Manga communities. Further, the titled officer with ties to the Sayfawa court who once oversaw the region occupied by the Manga may have also sympathized with them as al-Kanemi's supporters seized control of fiefs or taxation privileges. Moreover, the prominent role played by a malam suggests Islam shaped the articulation of class and social conflict, whilst still affirming the elite political order of the Sayfawa period. If more traditions and written sources existed on the nature of other rebellions in precolonial Borno under the Sayfawa, particularly among areas where Islam was more widespread, comparisons with this revolt could be enlightening.[26] Was the spiritual power and sanctity of the mai a source of appeal to peasants eager to sever ties with abusive fief-holders? To what extent did peasants have access to the royal court in Birni Gazargamo when dealing with abusive and exploitative chima?


[1] Dixon Denham, Hugh Clapperton, Walter Oudney, and Abraham V. Salamé. Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824, Vol 1, 239. This source is our most important for uncovering what transpired in 1824 during the Manga Revolt. Despite being an outsider, it provides one of the few written accounts of a rural revolt from precolonial Borno.

[2] Ibid., 204.

[3] Ibid., 204, 223, 228-231.

[4] Ibid., 232, 237.

[5] S.W. Koelle, African Native Literature, or Proverbs, Tales, Fables, & Historical Fragments in the Kanuri or Bornu Language: To Which Are Added a Translation of the Above and a Kanuri-English Vocabulary, 230.

[6] Dixon Denham, Hugh Clapperton, Walter Oudney, and Abraham V. Salamé. Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824, Vol. 1, 239.

[7] Dixon Denham , Hugh Clapperton, Walter Oudney, and Abraham V. Salamé. Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824 Vol. 2, 107.

[8] Dixon Denham, Hugh Clapperton, Walter Oudney, and Abraham V. Salamé. Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824 Vol. 1, 222.

[9] Louis Brenner. The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu, 53, 64. Brenner, whose detailed study of the al-Kanemi dynasty in the 19th century is essential, unfortunately did not deeply explore the Manga Revolt of 1824.

[10] Muhamamd Nur Alkali,  Kanem-Borno under the Sayfawa. A Study of the Origin, Growth, and Collapse of a Dynasty (891-1846), 263.

[11] J.R. Patterson. Kanuri Praise Songs, 22. According to the song, “(The Galadima) is a nephew of Zainaba daughter of the ruler of Muniyo.”

[12] Gustav Nachtigal. Sahara and Sudan, Vol. II, 253.

[13] Louis Brenner, The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu, 104.

[14] For a discussion of Hauwa Mahdi’s analysis of precolonial political economy in Borno and the question of the chima, see Behique Dunama, “Chima and the Peasantry,” 1000 Years Around Lake Chad, https://sayfawaborno.blogspot.com/2025/12/chima-and-peasantry.html.

[15] Paul E. Lovejoy, Salt of the Desert Sun: A History of Salt Production and Trade in the Central Sudan, 258, 270.

[16] Ibid., 284.

[17] Maïkorema Zakari, Contribution à l'histoire des populations de sud-est Nigérien: Le cas du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe S.), 11, 142.

[18] Landeroin, “Notice historique” in Mission Tilho, Documents Scientifiques De La Mission Tilho, 412, 423-424.

[19] Maïkorema Zakari, Contribution à l'histoire des populations de sud-est Nigérien: Le cas du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe S.), 145.

[20] Landeroin, “Notice historique,” 424.

[21] Michael M. Horowitz, Manga of Niger Vol. 3, 721-722, 740.

[22] Maïkorema Zakari, Contribution à l'histoire des populations de sud-est Nigérien: Le cas du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe S.), 144.

[23] Landeroin, “Notice historique,” 398.

[24] Louis Brenner, The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu, 65, 72.

[25] Maïkorema Zakari, Contribution à l'histoire des populations de sud-est Nigérien: Le cas du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe S.), 146.

[26] A movement led by a charismatic mallam who resisted the Sudanese warlord, Rabih, is well-known, but from a much later period, the 1890s. See Behique Dunama, “Mallam Abu Gantur's Uprising,” 1000 Years Around Lake Chad, https://sayfawaborno.blogspot.com/2025/09/mallam-abu-ganturs-uprising.html.

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