The existence of the Ogoni ethnic group is taken for granted in the literature that has grown out of the minority rights and environmentalist campaigns of the 1990s. This article departs from this tradition by engaging the historical development of the Ogoni ethnic group, taking as its point of departure elite politics in the context of colonial categories and post-colonial politics. With comparative data on the development of ethnic groups in Nigeria, it shows how elite politics and state structures and administrative decisions influenced the development of the Ogoni ethnic group and the identity it purveys. It also shows that differing interests in oil with unequal power bases spurred rigid positions that served to facilitate or constrain the execution of the Ogoni identity-building project.

This study sets out to explain the relatively high incidence of Islamic affiliation among traditionally non-Islamic Sisala migrants living in the migrant community of Mamobi in Accra, Ghana. In the course of the presentation, I intend to demonstrate that the migrants' relationship to Islam and the urban Islamic community is directly related to insecurities resulting from leaving one's native area and confronting an alien and often dangerous, urban environment, and that Islam provides the migrant with the instrumental means by which to facilitate his adjustment to urban life.

Spurred on in large part by the emergence of Jamaican and Anglo-Jamaican reggae music on to the global pop music scene in the mid-1970s, the Jamaican Rastafarian movement has within the past two decades managed to expand beyond its island home and attract a diverse and multi-ethnic international following. Apart from the various manifestations of ‘orthodox’ Jamaican Rastafarianism found in Africa today, one finds a number of religious and social formations which share similar features with and have been influenced to some extent by Rastafarian religion, music and culture. This article examines the various links that exist between one such group—the Muslim Baye Faal of Senegambia—and the beliefs and practices of the Jamaican Rastafari.

One problem in the rural areas of developing countries is the question of securing new sources of capital as the economy moves from a traditional agrarian system to a more fluid and flexible economic condition. New capital resources seem necessary to ensure this flexibility, to satisfy the needs of individuals in a world where economic achievement is highly stressed whatever its role in the more traditional society. Yet in the absence of banking facilities, or of government-sponsored loan organizations, the sources of funds for expanded or new economic endeavours must arise from the activities of the entrepreneurs themselves.

Drawing on rarely analysed primary sources obtained during multi-site archival research, this article examines and proposes to reassesses the political rhetoric deployed in pre-genocide Rwanda (First and Second Republics). The article contends that the First and Second Republics' rhetoric was not as ethnocentric as often contended. It argues instead that this rhetoric, cautious and moderate, should be understood as part of regime resilience strategies. Born of questionable origins, the two regimes faced recurrent instability and only imposed their authority questionably on segments of the Rwandan population. Unlike ethnocentric rhetoric calling upon limited ethnic affinities, moderate rhetoric was meant to ‘persuade’ and ‘pre-empt’, in other words extend support for regimes that were uncertain of their grounding.

Any anthropologist working in Africa at the moment is really experimenting with a new technique. Anthropological theory was evolved very largely in Oceania, where the relative isolation of small island communities provided something like ‘typical’ primitive social groups. Most of Rivers's hypotheses were based on Melanesian material, and Malinowski's functional method, the inspiration of most modern field work in all parts of the world, originated on an island off New Guinea with only 8,000 inhabitants. The anthropologist who embarks for Africa has obviously to modify and adapt the guiding principles of field work from the start. He has probably to work in a much larger and more scattered tribal area, and with a people that are increasing in numbers rather than diminishing. He has to exchange his remote island for a territory where the natives are in constant contact with other tribes and races. More important still, he has arrived at a moment of dramatic and unprecedented change in tribal history. Melanesian societies, it is true, are having to adapt themselves slowly to contact with white civilization, but most of the tribes in Africa are facing a social situation which is, in effect, a revolution. In fact, the whole picture of African society has altered more rapidly than the anthropologist's technique.

The debate on the ‘Bantu expansion’ has been notable for the relative absence of contributions by social and cultural anthropologists. Murdock's rather extravagant contribution (1959) has assumed a quite inordinate significance, as the only direct attempt to discuss the sociology of large linguistically defined areas. This anthropological silence is particularly noteworthy in view of the close collaboration between anthropologists, linguists and archaeologists in the Americas. It is fair to say that nothing in the Africanist literature approaches the sophistication of, say, Dyen and Aberle's Lexical reconstruction: the case of the proto-Athapaskan kinship system (1974). Studies like that are the outgrowths of a living tradition stemming from Boas and Kroeber and Sapir. There is nothing comparable in Africa—H. Baumann, the only candidate, lacked sociological interests and did not systematically relate his findings and hypotheses to those of the linguists. Yet it is surely obvious that an anthropological contribution is needed here, if only in a critical role. The present paper outlines a few of the ways in which social and cultural anthropologists might contribute; and begins with a critique of traditional ‘culture area’ approaches, since these are generally thought of as the kind of thing that anthropologists can do, however poorly.

This paper concerns the historical and sociological significance of the traditions of certain lineage-groups residing on the eastern fringes of Lake Victoria in Kenya. These traditions have implications about the nature of pre-colonial social structure in the region, and allow the use of anthropological findings in the reconstruction of social forms through the medium of oral history.

The groups in question are to be found on the islands and adjoining southern mainland at the mouth of the Gulf of Kavirondo (see map 1). These lineages, together with others, are collectively known as the Basuba, and they inhabit in whole or in part a number of South Nyanza administrative locations and extend across the Kenyan border into Tanzania; the lineages of immediate interest here are to be found on Rusinga and Mfangano Islands, and in the mainland locations of Gembe, Kaksingiri, and Gwasi. The discussion which follows is largely based on information gathered from selected knowledgeable men on the islands, and supplementary researches conducted by the same means in the mainland areas mentioned above; five months of fieldwork were conducted in two periods in 1969 and 1973 and, unless otherwise indicated, all information below pertaining to South Nyanza is derived from that.

The immigration of food-producing groups into areas occupied by hunters and gatherers must have been a common occurrence in prehistory. How were the hunter-gatherers affected by this? I describe here two groups of Kalahari Basarwa (‘Bushmen’), one living along the flood plain of the lower Botletli river, the other occupying the savanna a short distance away from the river. These two groups differed in subsistence and social organisation and were affected by immigrant herders and farmers in strikingly different ways. Today the Basarwa of the flood plain are wealthy cattle owners, whereas those of the savanna are poor and have few or no cattle. How and why did the two groups respond so differently to the same competitive threat?

In this paper I isolate for study a particular set of ancestors, the maternal ancestors in patrilineal societies and paternal ancestors in matrilineal societies. I call these the ‘extra-descent group ancestors’, for they are the ancestors of the parent who is residual with reference to the descent group of Ego. Thus among the Tallensi of northern Ghana, since membership of the descent group is traced patrilineally, the mother is the residual parent, and consequently the maternal ancestors are extradescent group ancestors, while the patrilineal ancestors are descent ancestors. Conversely, among the Plateau Tonga of Zambia, where there is a matrilineal system of descent, the father is the residual parent, and therefore the extra-descent group ancestors are the paternal ancestors, while the descent ancestors are matrilineal. It is with the character and actions of the extra-descent group ancestors that I shall be mainly concerned.

Studies of African religions almost invariably include detailed discussions of various categories of spirits. Rarely, however, is spirit considered in the abstract; spirits are described, but not the spiritual. This paper will explore the concept of sunsum, ‘spirit’, as it is employed throughout Akwapim Akan philosophy. Sunsum will be shown to be the central, unifying theme which integrates the various domains of Akwapim Akan thought. The distinction between the exclusively spiritual (ye sunsum) and the inspirited (wo sunsum) figures prominently in the ontology, epistemology and theory of causality and constitutes a major premise of the philosophy. The paper will conclude with the assertion that the universe in traditional Akwapim Akan thought is not divided into separate spiritual and material worlds but is most accurately regarded as one inspirited universe.

Religious conversion, a concept central to missionary activity and to the influence that Christianity has exerted in a variety of fields, embodies a wide range of meanings (Lonergan, 1971: 105–7). In the African context it has generally meant a change from a traditional to a universal religion, entailing a psychological transformation through which the convert's underlying assumptions about the world are reconstructed, accompanied by a socially recognised display of change (Jules-Rosette, 1976: 132–3). Robin Horton, among others, has devoted scholarly attention to the conversion process from the viewpoint of the Africans undergoing conversion but the missionaries, the advocates of conversion, have received no comparable attention (Beidelman, 1974: 235; cf. Beidelman, 1982).

Several attempts have been made to understand the development if not the origin of Akan culture in terms of the diffusion of (a) traits from the north which were taken south with the expansion and disintegration of the great savanna trading empires and the southward migration of Mande Dyula merchants and (b) traits which were already present prior to that migration in a large area once populated mainly by Guan in the Ivory Coast, Ghana, and Togo, and today populated for the most part by Akan, Adanbe, and Ewe. The mixing of these cultural traits and the point of origin for the Akan expansion appear, to have taken place along a trade route stretching from the Sahara to the Atlantic coast, close to the site of Begho near Wenchi in the Bono Techiman state (Boahen 1966; Goody 1959, 1966, 1968; Wilks 1962).

The following preliminary notes on some Fulani tribes were compiled as the result of a series of tours carried out in 1928 among the Fulani of the Bornu Emirate Division of Bornu Province in the northern provinces of Nigeria, and it is to the Fulani of that area only that the notes refer.

The pantheon of African national heroes houses a man forgotten by recent African history. He is Blaise Diagne, who became the first Negro African deputy of the French parliament by winning an unusual election in Senegal on 10 May 1914. This success not only launched Diagne upon a distinguished career of public service but also marked the beginning of African participation in modern politics in Senegal. Diagne, who was an incipient nationalist, broke the French and Creole domination of Senegalese representative institutions, introduced new campaign techniques and political methods, and gave a sense of purpose and unity to a badly divided African electorate. He was allowed to keep his parliamentary seat, despite attacks from many quarters, and thereby gave the French assimilationist theory its highest expression. He initiated a pattern of African involvement in metropolitan affairs that characterized French-speaking African politics for the next two generations; he set a style and created a mystique which inspired later African politicians; he can be called with great justice the precursor of modern African politics.

This article explores why, despite its diminished popularity, Afro-Cuban music remains among the most performed musics in Senegalese music clubs. Since the Second World War, many Senegalese have associated Afro-Cuban music with cosmopolitanism and modernity. In particular, Senegalese who came of age during the Independence era associate Latin music with a new model of sociability that emphasized ‘correct’ behaviour – elegant attire and self-discipline. Participating in an emerging ‘café society’ was especially important. The rise of m'balax music in the late 1970s, deemed more culturally ‘authentic’ by a younger generation coming into its own, challenged many of the values associated with Senegalese salsa. As an enlarged Senegalese public embraced m'balax, the older generation stopped going out to Dakar's nightclubs where they felt increasingly uncomfortable. However, the model of sociability this generation has championed calls for public displays of distinction and refinement. In fin-de-siècle Dakar, a number of venues emerged where Afro-Cuban music is played and powerful older Dakarois congregate, even if less frequently than formally. This article describes these venues and documents their patrons and the performances that take place there.

This paper suggests that important economic problems in the Republic of the Sudan (the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan until independence in 1956) arise from attitudes associated with the heritage of slavery. After briefly outlining the nature of indigenous slavery, and the essential interrelatedness of its economic and social characteristics, it uses primarily official documents to analyse the economic effects of slavery abolition in the northern Sudan. Present-day economic ramifications of the slavery heritage are then discussed.

By considering the lifespan of a garden, this article investigates the myriad spatial practices of forgetting and remembering the colonial and postcolonial pasts that people apply to their urban surroundings in Mahajanga, Madagascar. In the heart of an ancient residential and commercial neighbourhood in this multi-ethnic Indian Ocean port city sits the Jardin Ralaimongo. Drawing on ethnographic and archival research, I explore the trajectory of the garden to elucidate the ways in which different socio-political groups have drawn on this site to negotiate differences, frame collective memories, and stake their claims to the urban landscape. I show how, as city inhabitants have reworked the spaces of the garden, so too has the park itself – its layout, material artefacts and location within the city – constrained the possibilities of what can be remembered and silenced, and who can be bound to one another, in contemporary times. Over its hundred-year history, this site has been founded, forgotten and reincarnated as a memorial to a succession of revered leaders, thus serving as a kind of spatial register of the historical socio-political changes that have given rise to the city. This article suggests that the deterioration of colonial-era architectural forms through long-standing neglect and abandonment may be understood as an active spatial practice of effacing some dimensions of the past, while the subsequent recuperation of deserted public spaces by certain groups is an effort to position themselves as legitimate residents and express their attachment to the city.

The land disputes in Cameroon that are best known are between groups of local (indigenous) populations and people originating from elsewhere (incomers). This situation is fairly common in the cosmopolitan towns of Douala and Yaoundé. The purpose of this article is not to revisit these types of conflict, but rather to explore conflicts over land between the indigenous populations and the state. This new kind of opposition demonstrates that it is not only the incoming populations who are dispossessing indigenous people of their land. In fact, in various and more effective ways, the state is playing a significant part in the expropriation of indigenous land heritage. This process may be witnessed in urban housing developments, as well as in areas set aside for public utility, or those that are too dangerous to be developed (slopes, piedmonts and marshlands). Through its policy of urbanization, the state is seemingly contributing to producing ‘landless indigenous people’ in much the same way as and probably more effectively than the incomers. This article reviews the historical processes of land expropriation from the time of the colonial state, analysing the grievances of indigenous people faced with this situation, as well as the strategies they have developed in an effort to take back control of their lost lands.

This essay presents a history of the mikiliste, the high-living bon vivant who travels to Europe and is a central figure in Kinois urban mythology. It looks in particular at the highly theatrical exchanges engaged in by the mikiliste, which relate especially to music patronage and to designer clothing. I show how these exchanges have evolved over time, both shaping and being shaped by the political economy of Kinshasa. The essay shows how such aesthetic performances should not be discussed in isolation from wider political-economic considerations. Those who participate in economies of prestige must be connected to a material base, and the ruling class, with their access to the resources of the interior, have become ever more important participants in the mikiliste rituals of largesse. Recently, the violent contestation of mikiliste exchange, both in Europe and in Kinshasa, indicates that such moments of largesse may be involved in reproducing political-economic relations in the Congolese capital.