The purpose of this paper is to analyse the slogans which are so prominent and ubiquitous on motor vehicles as expressions of social stratification among the Yoruba of southwestern Nigeria. I interpret the slogans in the context of the taxi owners' and drivers' social interactions, not just as disembodied expressions of a total Yoruba world view. In studying the slogans I pay particular attention to processes of accumulation of wealth, status mobility and the way these are affected by cultural values. It is argued that the vehicle owners make different claims at different stages of their careers. Their fears and hopes at each stage must be understood in the light of the contemporary Christian and traditional mix of beliefs about destiny, the world and God.

The origin and development of cultures have long been matters of dispute. From the days of the classical school of anthropology, with its insistence on the universal inventiveness of humanity, to the kulturhistorische Schule of the present day and its doctrine of the poverty of man's ability to devise new means of meeting his environment, the pendulum has swung more and more towards a realization of the importance of cultural borrowing. There is little doubt now but that man is an imitative creature, and that human culture is essentially contagious. But how contagious it is is a problem yet to be solved. Between the extremes which have been mentioned there lies much room for difference, and differences of opinion have not been lacking.

This article examines Patrice Lumumba's afterlife among Congolese students in the 1960s. Mobilizing oral histories, it also interrogates the stakes of remembering Lumumba at different moments in Congo's postcolonial history. It shows how Lumumba's assassination became a collective and personal landmark in the biographies of a generation of student activists and clearly helped facilitate a turn towards the left in 1961 and in the years that followed. Overlooked by Cold War histories, this political process was nonetheless also a by-product of the internationalization of the Congo crisis and proved central to the historical imagination of a generation of educated Congolese. The dead Lumumba pushed young educated Congolese to revisit the meaning of decolonization. The article argues that the students’ extroverted political imagination was an important explanation for Lumumba's posthumous popularity in Congolese universities. Through their affiliation with the figure of Lumumba, young Congolese could expect to receive support and attention from real and imagined allies around the world. The international communion around Lumumba's name was sometimes the result of productive misunderstandings; nonetheless, his legacy played a crucial role in transnational mediation throughout the 1960s and made possible the circulation of new political repertoires among Congolese students.

Traditional Somali politics was based on two dialectically related principles: kinship and contract (tol iyo xeer). Kinship was founded on the segmentary lineage system under which people traced their descent to common male ancestors. Agnates functioned as corporate political groups because they were blood relatives. But the blood relation was not sufficient to establish a political system. Agnates functioned as corporate political groups because they negotiated a social contract that defined the terms of their collective unity.

From February to June 1995 approximately 300,000 people attended an anti-AIDS healing cult in Malawi. The name given to the cult was mchape. The article investigates the so-called ‘mchape affair’ and compares it with the anti-witchcraft movements which swept Malawi during the 1930s under the very same name. Against the background of this linguistic identity, the article reflects on the politics of healing, social memory and the public sphere as the national space in which the affair assumed its distinctive shape. Focusing on the perception of AIDS as encoding decay, it is argued that the mchape affair can be understood as a negotiation of the limits of power and the meaning of suffering nourished by the moral imagination of post-Banda society.

Devoir réagir sous la poussée démographique par migrations locales a toujours fait partie de l'histoire du Ghana du nord-est. Le colonialisme changea rigoureusement l e type de ces migrations, d'abord par force, puis par constrainte économique, en un mouvement de longues distances du nord-est du Ghana et des savannes du nord en général vers le Ghana du sud. Les migrations à leur tour eurent pour effet de déstabiliser Porganisation sociale, Pagriculture et le caractère démographique des communautés de la savanne. Bien que la politique coloniale n'ait pas toujours été uniforme, il semblerait y avoir eu une stratégie dominante avec un effet irréversible: le demembrement des communautés locales économiquement indépendantes et de la société locale afin d'encourager les migrations de main d'oeuvre, provenant en grande partie de cultures à peine auto-suffisantes, pour travailler dans l'agriculture commerciale, les mines et les travaux publics du sud. Ces secteurs étaient directement liés à l'économie européenne au profit de la Grande Bretagne. Les salaires peu élevés ainsi que les mauvaises conditions de travail encourageaient l a plupart des migrants a retourner dans leurs villages de savanne lorsqu'ils tombaient malades, se blessaient ou devenaient trop vieux pour travailler.

Lorsque le Ghana gagna son indépendance politique de la Grande Bretagne, cette nouvelle tendance des migrations était déjà fermement établie et maintenue par les changements presents dans le systéme social, système économique et celui des transports. Des observations zorses et de la région supérieure montrent qu'à n'importe quel moment donné les migrations emmenent environ 50 pourcent des homines en âge de travailler vers le sud du Ghana pour une durée d'un an ou plus. Une augmentation marquée de la proportion des dépendants en conséquence de cette migration signifie que chaque quatre adultes qui restent au pays doivent non seulement gagner leur pain mais aussi maintenir quatre dépendants au lieu des trois sans migration. Vu que les envois de fonds des migrant zorses ne comptent que pour une petite part de la valeur représentée par leur travail perdu, le résultat net de la migration sur le niveau de la consommation de nourriture de ceux qui restent au village sera determiné par l'équilibre entre l'augmentation de la productivité demandée de chacun des adultes travailleurs qui restent et le rendement diminué exigé du total des terres arables. Bien que je ne possède pas toutes les données vérifiables requises pour résoudre cette question, le témoignage des zorses non-migrants, la malnutrition chronique évidente, un décroissement à long terme de productivité des terres du à l'érosion et à l'insuffisance d'apports de matières organiques ainsi qu'à un serieux manque de main d'oeuvre durant les périodes critiques d'activités paysannes, suggèrent que le net effet des migrations est négatif pour les zorses. C'est-à-dire que ni l'augmentation en travail ou en rendement des terres ne va vraisemblablement compenser le taux plus élevé des dépendants.

Bien qu'on puisse peut-être dire que les migrants choisissent librement de partir, les chemins qui leur sont ouverts sont souvent détermines par les forces d'un système plus large en dehors de leur contrôle. Du côté positif, si un renversement des tendances établies par le colonialisme et renforcées par les développements économiques ‘modernes’ peut être éffectué, les connaissances pratiques, connaissances agricoles indigènes et les connaissances démographiques en Afrique peuvent fournir le point de départ pour un avenir viable.

Refugees are generally viewed as a transitory problem. In many African countries, however, protracted refugee situations have turned the temporary refugee state into a more or less permanent phenomenon. In this article, I draw on the concept of uncertainty, and on claims that suspicion structures humanitarianism, to examine how long-term residents in Dagahaley refugee camp in Kenya attempted to make themselves worthy of being considered for resettlement. I demonstrate how the incompatibility between the UNHCR's resettlement criteria and Somali refugees’ lived realities provided both sets of actors with a resource: they used understandings of vulnerability as a means for making or denying resettlement claims. Refugeeness is a process of becoming, premised on how earlier arrivals deployed long-term suffering as a justification for being prioritized for resettlement. These dynamics resulted in the emergence of ‘new’ and ‘old’ refugee distinctions through which the meanings of vulnerability were redefined.

To those outside the anthropological disciplines, the Zulu are probably the best known chiefdom of southern Africa. Zulu military prowess acted as a sharp break on the process of colonial expansion in the nineteenth century and led to a series of battles which have been immortalized on celluloid and in the more popular historical accounts of the era. Despite this, the Zulu have prompted a comparatively sparse ethnography that is based largely on the work of nineteenth-century observers and is less comprehensive than the literature on some other southern African communities.

Through a comparative analysis of two recent Tanzanian lawsuits concerning pastoralist–farmer disputes over land, this article argues that the judicial system is being employed as a vehicle for legitimizing dispossession. Wealthy elites who find their efforts to acquire vast tracts of land thwarted by protective mechanisms in the Land Act No. 4 of 1999 and Village Land Act No. 5 of 1999 are turning to the courts to get what they want. Having access to deeper pockets and being able to out-lawyer and out-manoeuvre their poorer and often less-educated opponents enables elites (including the government itself) to avail themselves of the judicial system and acquire land through illegitimate means. Yet our analysis also illustrates that Tanzanian courts at times act independently of political influence and secure property rights for at least some of the dispossessed. An unusual mix of conflicting pressures and key personalities in these two cases coalesced to produce unexpected outcomes in favour of the Maasai defendants, whose land and legitimacy were on the line. Winning, however, came at considerable cost.

In exploring the difficulties experienced by the traditionally politically uncentralised Somalis in establishing a stable and effective state, based on their ethnicity, this article compares ethnicity, nationalism and lineage identity. In this case, ethnicity and nationalism are local products, influenced but not created by the colonial experience. They have had to contend with the intractable force of segmentary lineage identity, which has proved extremely difficult to adapt and accommodate to the requirements of modern statehood. In its cultural context, agnation is all the more pervasive and powerful in constituting an ‘invisible’ bond, conceived by Somalis as a biologically based distinction like ‘race’. Unlike race, it is almost infinitely elastic and divisible. Ethnic identity, which rests on external distinctions such as language, culture and religion, cannot be broken down into a series of formally equivalent segments, but is less binding as a social force. Today, after the collapse of the state of Somalia in 1991, following protracted grass‐roots peace‐making between clans, two parts of the nation—the former British Somaliland, and the north‐eastern region of Somalia (‘Puntland’, based on the Majerteyn clan, and other closely related clans)—have developed separate local states. Although Somaliland claims complete independence, which Puntland does not, both polities incorporate parliamentary institutions that accommodate traditional, and modern political leaders and processes. The ex‐Italian residue, Southern Somalia, still without any form of government, is in what appears to be the final throes of its long‐running, fourteenth grandiose international ‘peace’ conference in Kenya. Thousands of delegates, in various configurations, have already spent over eighteen months in these talks. Although its embryonic constitution now recognises ‘clans’ as constituent political units, this attempt to re‐establish Somalia is based on the usual ‘top‐down’ approach, rather than on spontaneous local negotiations amongst ‘stakeholders’ on the ground, such as those on which Somaliland and Puntland are founded. With contingents of foreign ‘experts’, the whole process seeks to reinstate a familiar Eurocentric state model, unadapted to Somali conditions.

The article traces the history of debates on land transfers in northern Ghana and discusses the ways in which African and European views on land tenure influenced and instrumentalized each other. Using the case of Nandom in the Upper West Region, I analyse how an expansionist group of Dagara farmers gained access to and legitimized control over land previously held by a group of Sisala hunters and farmers claiming to be the ‘first-comers’ to the area. Both groups acknowledge that the Sisala eventually transferred land to the Dagara immigrants, symbolically effected by the transmission of an earth-shrine stone. However, the Sisala interpret this historical event in terms of a ‘gift’, invoking the language of kinship and continued dependency, while the Dagara construe it in terms of a ‘purchase’, implicating exchange, equality and autonomy. These different perspectives, as well as colonial officials' ideas that land ownership was ultimately vested in the ancestors of the first-comer lineage and therefore ‘inalienable’, have shaped early disputes about the Nandom earth shrine and Dagara property rights. Competing conceptions of pre-colonial African land tenure continue to provide powerful arguments in current land conflicts, and shrinking land reserves as well as the political implications of landed property, in the context of decentralization policies, have exacerbated the debate on the ‘inalienability’ of land.

Migration patterns among the Fulani of Burkina Faso have changed over recent decades from predominant transhumance, involving whole families, to seasonal rural-to-urban labour migration of young men. This article uses a combination of quantitative and qualitative data to examine the relationships between the new forms of migration and domestic organization. Specifically, it asks the following questions: (1) How do households accommodate the temporary loss of productive members? (2) Does the out-migration lead to new forms of domestic organization, and to changing roles and power relations within sending households? Various forms of flexibility in domestic organization are identified, which serve to maintain viable economic units in the face of the temporary absence of substantial numbers of young men. These include: flexibility in the processes of household division; rapid, temporary restructuring of domestic units; and drawing on extra-household support networks. One consequence of this flexibility is that intra-household gender divisions of labour and power have remained largely unchanged in the face of seasonal labour migration. The extent to which this will remain the case if migration becomes more widespread is uncertain.

Duol is a term used in reference to traditional Luo life to signify unity and solidarity within a lineage under the authority of the elders. This authority was most prominent in the pre-colonial period, and continued up to independence. It declined steadily under the impact of modernity during the post-independence period. Consequently, the institution oí duol fell into disuse. The emergence of the HIV/AIDS pandemic has renewed the need for unity and solidarity in finding community-based solutions. The original principles of duol are now manifested in a transformed version of duol and similar collaborative community initiatives. This article suggests that efforts to assist communities adversely affected by HIV/AIDS pandemic should base their interventions in the various community-based collaborative initiatives. Traditional institutions, it is argued, may be re-invented in times of turmoil as new forms of relatedness through which human agency is focused to counter serious challenges to rural communities.

The savanna-forest boundary in West Africa is one of its most remarkable geographical features. The clarity with which the boundary is defined, whether seen from the air or from ground level, is, throughout most of its length, most striking. Moreover, the most casual observer will discover that many other features, particularly of settlement and of agriculture, reach the limit of their distributions at about the same location. Not the least significant feature, in sharp contrast with many other zones of vegetation change, is that the boundary is not an ecotone, or zone of gradual change in floristic composition and community structure in response to equally gradual changes in habitat character, but ‘a mosaic of communities representative of each region’. The zone of change consists of islands, salients, and enclaves of forest and savanna, sharply separated from one another. Only one community, the ‘transition woodland’, may in any sense be considered an ecotone. Even this, in some instances at least, may be a more or less transient sub-seral community, in view of the fact that forest trees within it are generally young, whereas the savanna trees are old.

This article explores the connection between three political movements that broke out amongst Africans and Indians within the public political realm across the Indian Ocean – the Khilafat/non-cooperation movement initiated by Gandhi in India between 1919 and 1922, the ‘quest for equality’ with European settlers amongst Indians in Kenya from 1910 to 1923, and the anti-settler movement launched by Harry Thuku in protest against unfair labour ordinances between 1921 and 1922. Moving away from the racial and territorial boundaries of South Asian and Kenyan historiographies, it uses the Indian Ocean realm – a space of economic, social and political interaction – as its paradigm of analysis. A variety of primary sources from archives in Kenya, India and Britain have been studied to uncover a connected, interregional history of politics, race and empire. In an attempt to highlight the importance of the Indian Ocean realm in understanding the interracial and interregional concerns that shaped the political imaginary of Indians and Africans in Kenya, the article reveals the emergence of a shared public political space across the Indian Ocean that was deeply contested.

Plusieurs auteurs ont signalé l'existence d'une curieuse forme d'alliance, chez les Manding ainsi que chez d'autres peuples du Soudan français. Cette alliance joue entre représentants de groupes déterminés — familles, villages, régions, peuples — porteurs de noms différents. Elle donne lieu à diverses manifestations, dont certaines fort étranges.

The linguistic and religious affiliation of the peoples of the arid lowlands of northern Kenya and adjacent areas of the Horn is very heterogeneous. Although most of the populations east of Lake Turkana speak languages which belong to the Lowland branch of the Eastern Cushitic sub-family, within this branch Oromo speech (Boran, Gabbra, Sakuye, Orma) is not mutually intelligible with Somaloid languages like Rendille and Somali. Even within the Somaloid group, successful communication between monolingual Rendille and Somali is normally difficult, but a high degree of bilingualism is found.

Valuable African archival materials are known to have been ‘rediscovered’ accidentally after having been ‘lost’ to scholarship for a time. Perhaps the foremost example of this in Lower Congo research is the eighteenth-century bibliography located by Jadin in the Vatican Library some time ago. A similar case which I shall discuss here is that of the KiKongo sources of Karl Laman's four volume ethnography The Kongo, a 775-page work detailing traditions, customs, lore, and legend from the BaKongo north of the Congo River at the turn of the century. These sources were ‘lost’ too, but in a different way. Through an obfuscating editorial policy and several translations from KiKongo to Swedish, and again from Swedish to English, their central role in the final work became completely obscured. A reconstruction of how Laman's posthumous ethnography in fact reached the stage of publication should be of help to those who find it difficult to work with as it is—although I must make clear that the work is, as it stands, already of outstanding value. An explanation of the editorial policy in terms of its premises should reveal the impact of tacit ethnological theory upon something as seemingly cut-and-dried as the posthumous works of an established scholar, already well known in his field.

It is thought that African rice (Oryza glaberrima), domesticated from the annual wild rice Oryza barthii, a plant of savanna river valleys and water holes, may have been first cultivated along the valley of the upper and middle Niger (Portères, 1970; Harlan, 1975). Cultivation under high rainfall conditions in the forest zone followed the development of ‘upland’ cultivars. Today, farmers in the drier savannas continue to depend on the seasonal rise and fall of flood water in valley bottom land for rice cultivation, and on occasion, this has developed into fully-fledged ‘irrigation’ agriculture (Linares de Sapir, 1970; Loquay, 1980), but elsewhere in the West African rice zone rain-fed ‘upland’ cultivation techniques now predominate. Where rainfall is more reliable ‘upland’ cultivation tends to be preferred because of its greater efficiency of labour use, but, as in ancient times, the occasional supplementary use of swamp to cope with bad years is not uncommon. This paper focuses attention on rice farming systems in Sierra Leone. Rice cultivation probably reached this area several thousand years ago (Atherton, 1979). Although in a few instances regular use of swamp land dates back to the later part of the nineteenth century (e.g. in the Bumban valley and the tidal swamps of the Scarcies estuary: Fyle, 1979, Carpenter, 1978) ‘upland’ cultivation still retains its former importance over large parts of the country.