The Song of the Babuma to the Sultan Ume Jilmi

The following is Patterson's translation of "The Song of the Babuma to the Sultan Ume Jilmi" from his Kanuri Songs. As a praise song for a mai of Kanem who lived in the 11th century, the text is full of anachronisms that require careful consideration and interpretation. While the general tenor of the praise song may reflect, to some degree, the high regard with which the first Muslim ruler of Kanem was viewed. However, anachronistic elements and the transformations over time in Kanem (and later, Borno) undoubtedly shaped the song and how early Islamic Kanem was remembered by the Kanuri of the early 20th century. For an example of anachronisms, note how the song ends with a reference to Birni Njimi, the ancient capital of Kanem. However, the sources are not exactly clear when Njimi replaced Manan as the capital of Kanem. Similarly, there is no way to know if the first Muslim Sultan of Kanem really did attack the land of Mobber or scatter captives in Bagirmi. While Lange seems to believe in the deeper antiquity of the name Bagirmi and perhaps a longer history of a polity there, we have no way to know to what extent Kanem was active in Bagirmi during the late 11th century. However, the song does record the name of Humme's maternal grandfather, Aji of Gagara Wunji. If the Diwan is reliable, Humme's mother was of Kay extraction, but the grandfather was named Ghumar. Was one name Kanuri (Aji?) while Ghumar reflected what may have been an already Islamized Muslim background of Hummay's mother? Intriguingly, like other traditions and sources, this Muslim ruler was remembered as having fair skin. 

Hail all powerful! To-day you are the world’s health-giver

Who hold destiny in your hands,

to-day you have made the world a paradise:

With whom lies the power for good

or evil, to-day you are the world’s

sweetness

Islam’s disposer, to-day you are the

pillar supporting the world

Who hold destiny in your hands, 

to-day, you have made the world a 

paradise

Sultan, who owns the town of Beskur,

leave off pleasure-seeking

Yours the market of the finest horses,

Ume Jilmi

Her whose mother was Tika, son of 

a warrior, a bush cow among men

Whose town is Umuru, who is a 

cause for wonder amongst all men

Went to the Wabe war three hundred and thirty-three times:

Three were undecided, but of your

goodness lead an army into battle 

You have fought in many parts and

put up the (mosque in the) ‘dandal’

Yours the corn measure in the daily 

markets and in the large ones too

Head of a troop of horse to-day you

are the greatest of all horsemen

Your protection spreads like wings

o’er your men, your men spread out 

behind you like wings

I (i.e. the Babuma) shall tell of

your greatness 

You are our protector whose acts are

done in secret

You are Sultan of all the great

Protect us and we shall protect you 

here on earth 

O! Sultan, you are the Ark of the 

Koran 

Whose grandfather was Aji of

Gagara Wunji

Son of Aji’s daughter 

You are a Sultan, fair of skin,

 who own the land of Kanem

On Sunday night you make you

plans, day dawns

On Monday forenoon, as it were

now, (you carry them into effect)

On your shoes, a piebald horse, on a 

fine stallion do your prancing

Send out the heat of your fiery 

spirit: no one can oppose your

plans

You put to flight a warrior, Dalla,

son of Mukka, chief of the land of 

Mobber, during the freshness of the 

rainy season

Again and again you put him to

flight 

Then forced him on to a raft of papyrus grass

Then you returned to your camp:

And came back and again forced him

on to his raft

And captured (from his following) a thousand slaves

And took them and scattered them 

in the open places of Bagirmi

The best you took (and sent home) as

the first fruits of battle

The children crying on their mothers

you snatched away from their 

mothers

You took the slave wife from a slave,

And set them in lands far removed 

from one another 

O! Sultan, the good, whose sleep is

(light as that) of a hare

Sultan, truly a Sultan, who stays 

not in the house of his father’s

sister 

Of noble birth from both his father 

and mother

Of noble birth indeed, of noble birth

from both his parents

(Where you sit) costly carpets are

spread for you, above your head is

a canopy of gold

O! Sultan, (who can discomfit one) 

like pebbles on one’s eyelashes

O! Sultan, Angel of God.

As (there is a) protector of the 

camel’s tongue, do you protect us

The friend of youth

Whose writing slate is made of ‘kabwi’ wood

At night (a warrior) on a coal-black

Horse; but when day dawns he (is

to be seen) with his Koran in his hand.

We wait upon your blessing

Babuma Amadu said to Mai Aji Fannami at the Sugu war,

“Sultan, even if you are mounted

on your bay horse called ‘Kite

Kiteram”.

Birni Njimi is a long way off if you

want to run away.

Gazetteer of Bornu Province

H.R. Palmer's Gazetteer of Bornu Province is what one expects from the works of Palmer. The colonial administrator moonlighting as a scholar is more of the former here in terms of presenting information of all types on colonial Borno in the 1920s. Thus, beyond his usual far-fetched theories of Hamitic migration/conquest illustrated with questionable linguistic evidence and problematic, forced correspondence of legends and myths of origins across a vast swathe of Sahelian Africa (the Kanuri rulers are ultimately traced back to Kush and the Hamites), Palmer also presents information on the roads of Kanem, taxation, residents, and brief histories of the various emirates within Bornu province. Thus, the people of Biu, Fika, Potiskum and the Bedde receive brief attention here, although their deeper history is nowhere treated as seriously as that of the Kanuri and Kanembu. 

There are few interesting observations of ethnological and historical interest, of course. For instance, Palmer viewed the Sao as some sort of singular state or kingdom, with a main capital near the site of Dikwa at N'difu, ruling for 400 years before transferring their court to N'galla. The Manga people, are also described as being a servile class, descendants of slaves of Kanem's rulers, who adopted the Kanuri language and ways. In addition, Palmer noted a weakness of "national" feeling in precolonial Borno. Thus, even the Sugurti Kanembu who supposed al-Kanemi when he seized power in Borno later turned against his dynasty in the 1840s when Wadai supported the Sayfawa candidate Ali Dalatumi against the Shehu. Intriguingly, Palmer likewise raises attention to a mallam, named Buki, who led an "unarmed rabble" against Rabeh in the 1890s, which is yet another fascinating moment in which mallams played a role in popular movements. 

In terms of other peoples and emirates in the province, all are in the shadow of Borno, even if independent or largely so. Biu, for example, remembered the first ma as Yamta ra Wala, who was said to have been born in Birni Gazargamo. Unsurprisingly, the rulers of Biu sent gifts to the ruler of Borno as well. The Bedde and Ngizim are also linked to Borno through Kanem, where they are said to have come from. As for the other groups, such as the Koyam and Tubu, Palmer forces everything through his Hamitic theory's lens, trying to connect the koyam to the Tuareg and the clans which later came to rule Kanem and Borno to the Kushites of Yam and Nubia. It's a wild ride, but one familiar to anyone who has Bornu Sahara and Sudan. Palmer certainly had a creative imagination!

Songs for the Sayfawa

J.R. Patterson's Kanuri Songs are a fascinating collection of praise songs from precolonial Borno. Collected by Patterson in the 1920s from descendants of the professional praise singers who once occupied an important position in the Sayfawa court, all the songs commemorate rulers, leaders, or relatives associated with the Sayfawa dynasty. Intriguingly, several (about 4) are in honor of people associated with Ali b. Umar's reign in the 17th century. Perhaps this attests to memories of his reign as one of prosperity and a Golden Age for the state. One, the earliest, which was certainly reworked over the generations and likely contains anachronisms, is a praise song for the first Muslim mai, Humme. Even more interesting is the fact that two of the songs are for women, including a magira and a gumsu, both of whom appear to have not only occupied prominent positions in the state but held extensive fiefs. Indeed, a more thorough familiarity with the Kanuri language and toponyms in Borno and surrounding areas might be necessary to locate some of the places where these powerful women once held land. 

Naturally, a deep familiarity with the conventions of praise songs among the Kanuri, as well as other oral and written literary traditions is necessary. Patterson was praised by Palmer for his deep familiarity with the Kanuri language, but one wonders if future scholars noticed errors in translation and interpretation. Of course, by the very nature of their genre and function, the praise songs must be interpreted very carefully for any historical content. The genealogies are useful and likely one of the sources for the various girgams and the Diwan, but they undoubtedly focus on military triumphs, celebrate the ruler (or elites) and likely obfuscate defeats, problems, or unjust practices by the Sayfawa dynasty. Moreover, one must also wonder about the larger corpus of praise songs for the Sayfawa. If a song was still in use on the very first Islamic king of Kanem, surely some songs likely survived on other medieval kings of Kanem. For example, Patterson translated a song in honor of Dunama Dibalemi's daughter, yet there is no song for Dunama Dibalemi himself? Similarly, prominent Sayfawa mais like Idris b. Ali, Ali b. Dunama, or Idris b. Katakarmabe almost surely were the subjects of praise songs.

If, however, the once respected positions of the ngijima, babuma and zakkama were no longer an important part of the Shehu court, then it is perhaps understandable why the repertoire might have shrunk by 1926. Perhaps the most glorious Sayfawa kings, whose dynasty was wiped out in 1846 by al-Kanemi's son, would not have been a popular subject matter to the al-Kanemi dynasty's court. For instance, by the time of Barth's travels in Borno, finding detailed records on the previous dynasty was difficult for him. It may have been the case that by the 1920s, when Patterson's translation of these songs was published, Kanuri praise songs might have been lost or hidden. 

So, what types of historical information can be gleamed from these songs? A closer examination awaits us, but they highlight the role of the Sayfawa rulers, the kaigama, yerima, galadima, as military leaders who defend their borders, make conquests, and hail from noble lineages (the genealogical aspect is rather important here). The song for Humme, for example, even includes Bagirmi as an area of operations for the first Muslim king, which may or may not be an example of anachronisms in the song. The praise songs for women are striking for the celebration of women as elites and for their wealth and noble lineage, not just as wives, sisters, or relatives of the kings. That women were once so powerful as landowners and political forces in their own right reveals an aspect of Kanem and Borno under Sayfawa rule that is largely hidden in the Islamic sources.

Even more remarkable is the number of songs dedicated to figures associated with Ali b. Umar (r. 1639-1677). One of his wives is the subject of a praise song, as well as one each for a yerima, kaigama, and to the zerma. In short, 4 out of the 11 songs are said to date to Ali b. Umar's reign. In other words, memories of his reign loomed large, and even though no song specifically for him was recorded by Patterson, his wife and other prominent officials/relations of his were remembered positively. One even alluded to conflict with Air, something verified by other sources and traditions for Ali b. Umar's reign. Whether or not Ali b. Umar's wife truly did endeavor to stop him from going to battle is another question, yet the praise songs for leaders with military responsibilities suggest Ali b. Umar's officials were usually successful in their operations. Again, the very nature of these sources would mitigate against mention of any extreme failures.

Overall, the Kanuri Songs translated by Patterson are fascinating examples of what must have been a much larger repertoire of traditional praise singing going back several centuries. To what extent it would be possible today to find examples of praise songs for other rulers or leaders of Kanem and Borno before the advent of the al-Kanemi dynasty is hard to say, but they certainly provide a different perspective on this fascinating civilization. Those on the Kanem period or the era of Sayfawa consolidation in Borno would be particularly interesting to compare with chronicles and written sources on the same periods. 

Kanuri in 16th Italy (Lucia Celu)

A fascinating performance of "Lucia Celu" by Orlando di Lasso features some words in the Kanuri language. According to Salvatore, some of the allegedly nonsensical words associated with this song are Kanuri, with Giorgio even referencing Borno.

Muhammad Bello, al-Kanemi and Borno

Although Muhammad Bello did not reproduce in full all the letters he received from al-Kanemi of Borno, his Infāq al-Maysūr contains a plethora of important details on the conflicts between the jihadists of Uthman dan Fodio and Borno. Translated by Salahudeen Yusuf as A History of Islam, Scholarship and Revivalism in Western Sudan, Being an Annotated Translation with Introduction of  Infaqul-Maisur fi Tarikh Bilad al-Tukur of Sultan Muhammad Bello bin Fodio, the first chapter contains an overview of the lands of the western and central Sudan. Borno, receives mention as an area in which Islam was widely spread and deeply practiced before the jihad, even by commoners. Recitation of the Quran, Islamic scholarship and religious devotion were well-rooted in the area. 

However, for two reasons, Muhammad Bello called into question the Islamic legitimacy of the Sayfawa rulers of Borno. First, certain customs and traditions persisted despite the conversion to Islam centuries ago. Women went unveiled, sacrifices were made in the river (Komadugu?), and sacrifices or ceremonies were held at trees or certain rock sites. Al-Kanemi saw the old rituals involving sacrifices at presumably venerated in pre-Islamic times as customs similar to what was done by people in central Islamic lands, like Syria and Egypt. Bello, on the other hand, was very rigid on this, even condemning the nomadic Fulani for a custom or tradition involving fire, dances, and objects tied around the head of children by agreeing with Shaykh Abdullahi al-Thuqa. Nonetheless, this was seen as justification for the jihad, since it was perceived as shirk by Bello. Furthermore, by lending support to the Hausa rulers who fought against the jihad, Bello argued that the Sayfawa mai had become an unbeliever. If a Muslim ruler supports unbelievers against other Muslims, such a ruler becomes an unbeliever himself. Furthermore, as head of the state, the behavior of the mai called into question the Islamic legitimacy of Borno. Thus, the jihadists were in the moral right. Unsurprisingly, al-Kanemi countered this by drawing on the same sources and evidence as Bello: the Quran, Islamic law, hadith, logic.

Later in their correspondence, which appears to have been infrequent due to messengers failing to deliver letters, al-Kanemi seems to have shifted somewhat his argument. While acknowledging some customs in Borno that were improper, he accuses the allies of the jihad of initiating conflict with Borno on incorrect, false grounds. The Fulani and others who attacked Borno seemed to be more interested in gathering booty and captives, which triggered part of the debate between Bello and al-Kanemi on whether enslavement of said captives was legal in Islam. The two never reconciled, based on the letters reproduced by Bello, but one can see how the conflict between Sokoto and Borno was centered on defining a Muslim. Part of this even drew from the longer history of Islam in West Africa, especially Askia Muhammad of Songhay and his questions posed to al-Maghili. Askia Muhammad's seizure of power was seen as a jihad of sorts by Bello, and a model for a proper Islamic ruler to emulate. Intriguingly, Bello did not cite or reference other works of al-Maghili written to or for Hausa rulers of Kano and Katsina, perhaps since that would have called into question the legitimacy of the jihad against Hausa rulers (sarakauna). Nonetheless, the model of Askia Muhammad and expectations of a Muslim ruler as a pious, just figure who corrects the behavior of his subjects and follows Islamic precepts. One wonders to what extent al-Kanemi would have drawn on the history and legacy of the Sayfawa monarchs to counter Bello's claims. Perhaps al-Kanemi would not have used the past of the Sayfawa due to his own political ambitions?

Mentioning Haiti in Kano

Although we have often wondered what people in African during the 19th century knew of Haiti, there is a brief mention of the Haitian Revolution in Kano. Hugh Clapperton, who traveled to Borno and the Sokoto Caliphate in the 1800s, recounted this particular episode in his Journal of a Second Expedition Into the Interior of Africa: From the Bight of Benin to Soccatoo, published in 1829. According to Clapperton, an Arab merchant residing in Kano was killed by his female slaves. According to his informants, the custom was to sell such slaves toward the coast. Clapperton, when asked what should be done, endorsed hanging the slaves once it was clear they had killed their master from Ghadamis. Naturally, this led to Clapperton's curiosity about the slave population in Kano. Surprisingly, it was thirty slaves for every free man. Given these demographics, Clapperton used the example of St. Domingo (Haiti) as a warning to the people of Kano, since slaves may rise up and seize control when they overwhelmingly outnumber their masters. Besides the example of Haiti, which we presume was either unknown or poorly understood in West Africa, Clapperton cited recent history of the Hausa slaves in Oyo who rebelled. 

Historical Materialism and the Kel Ahir

Kathleen O'Mara's A Political Economy of Ahir (Niger): Historical Transformations in a Pastoral Economy, 1760-1860 adopts a historical materialist approach to analyze transformations in the Ahir region's political economy once the Kel Owey federation become the dominant Tuareg group in that region. Focusing on class and a materialist interpretation allows greater clarity on how the Tuareg of this region of the Sahara shifted from a pastoral economy to a more centralized, agro-pastoral tributary economy in the 18th century. Thus, the transformations of the state and economy in the Ahir (or Air) region predate the jihad and establishment of the Sokoto Caliphate. According to O'Mara's view, the Ahir sultanate government's "glorious period" in the 1500s was not fully tributary, although the sultanate administration survived with the rise of Kel Owey hegemony and commercial expansion in order to protect the interests of the Tuareg elites, imajeren. Essentially, the seizure of the Kawar salines, especially Bilma, was an impetus for further trade and agro-pastoral expansion. This, in turn, was accompanied by the increasing centralization and development of a regional economy in Hausaland, particularly after the establishment of the Sokoto Caliphate. In other words, Borno's loss of Kawar in the 1760s favored the Ahir Tuareg, particularly the Kel Owey, who reaped huge profits from the sale of salt to Hausaland, where a burgeoning market and growing manufacturing (textiles, leather, etc.) centers in places like Kano fueled more Tuareg trade. 

Indeed, to O'Mara's view, Ahir became so connected to the larger, regional economy of the Central Sudan that trans-Saharan commerce became less important and Agadez's population moved to lands in the Sudan. The cycle fueled more economic growth as the Kel Owey, as well as other Tuareg groups, increasingly used captives and "free" dependents, often Kanuri, Hausa, or Dagera, to work farmland in Damergu. Agricultural production in the more fertile lands of the Sudan favored Tuareg commerce since the grain from these areas could be used to trade with the Kawar oases (and to ensure adequate grain supplies for the Ahir  region). This, of course, meant that the Ahir Tuareg could be less dependent on the meager agricultural resources of the Ahir region or from grain supplied by the independent Hausa states. With the growth of a Kel Owey commercial class investing in salt, agricultural production, livestock, and trade in textiles, slaves, leather products, and items acquired through trans-Saharan trade via the Fezzan or Ghat, the Ahir Tuareg system became a fully tributary one that maintained the dominance of the "nobles."  In fact, the continuance of the Ahir sultanate structure in Agades as an intermediary of Tuareg groups in Ahir, plus their own source of legitimacy via Islam, provided a balance with Kel Owey elites.

As one might expect in a highly unequal, hierarchical arrangement that was the Ahir political economy from 1760-1860, conflict within the elites (vertical) and between "nobles" and other groups (ineslemen, dependents of various types, etc.) was a constant. Dependents, both "free" and servile, could change masters easily and the Kel Ahir Tuareg had to find ways to maintain a system of exploitation of their labor. Like the free Dagera, Kanuri and Hausa groups conquered by Tuareg groups, the Tuareg "class" system allowed for significant local autonomy to settlements of slaves and others. In addition, manumission was frequent while intermarriage and absorption of captives into the lineage (as fictive children) meant enslavement was, according to Barth at least, less horrific than in other locales. One wonders, however, tow hat extent conditions here were similar with regard to slavery in the Sokoto Caliphate and Borno, where a history of slave settlements and even plantations existed. Nonetheless, O'Mara wishes to highlight how enslavement and exploitation of captives for their labor in agriculture, livestock rearing, carrying goods, or salt production was similar to the tribute extracted from "free" dependents in the Kel Ahir class system. Clerical lineages, too, tried to occasionally resist through the ideology of jihad or even becoming warriors themselves, yet they could not build a diverse enough coalition 

Through an ideology of noble dominance and control of camels, the most important animal in the pastoral economy, these nobles justified their position through the protection they could provide to dependents and clerical lineages. Their ownership of camels furthered their position as guides for caravans from North Africans, traders in their own rights, and for the use of camels to carry salt or other products. However, claims to noble status were always dynamic, and were frequently adjusted genealogically after the fact to legitimize the imajeren domination. This is connected to the purpose of the Agades Sultanate itself, instituted to resolve conflict between Tuareg groups in Ahir as well as to secure the overall interests of an elite group. Ongoing conflicts between the Kel Owey and others, naturally meant that the hegemony of any specific federation was always up for grabs, which in turn justified elite positions as "protectors" of their dependents against other Tuareg or non-Tuareg foes. 

This is all rather fascinating and engaging. However, some of what O'Mara proposes is either implausible or debatable. For instance, many of the political offices in the Ahir sultanate are of Hausa origin. Perhaps this suggests that the transformation of the Kel Ahir from a pastoral economy to a fully tributary one required the adoption of administrative features found in the Sudanic states to their south, especially Borno and the Hausa. Moreover, the increasing sedentarization of some Tuareg and the growth of agricultural ventures owned by Kel Ahir in Damergu, Zinder, or the Caliphate could be seen as similarly following patterns from Songhay, Borno, and Hausa history. Indeed, even the justifying ideology of elite rule via protection offered to dependents could be seen in the case of Borno, which failed to provide the necessary protection for its subjects in Kawar, western Borno, and northern Borno. Unlike Borno, however, the Ahir Tuareg federations structure and "looseness" and the ecological conditions of the southern Sahara could make it rather fragile. But, the exploitation of producers, a free and slave peasantry, seems to be a common for the Central Sudan, where chronic insecurity was also present despite the existence of large Hausa states or Borno (when it was a regional hegemon).