Chapters 49 to 52

Kindness is shown Bubi women who have given birth. Here she is supplied with ample firewood.

Circa 1930. (From 'The Bubis on Fernando Po.')

51. Lotubia or Lotumia and Botoitoi or Bonoha

We have noted repeated times that it is the general belief among Bubis that all occurrences in this sublunar world, even the least important, fall under the beneficial or maleficent influence of spirits. Because of this belief, all of their religious practices come down to winning the favor of good spirits to protect them from the perverse influence of the reprobate. These cautious measures they take from the time a human being begins in the maternal womb.

As soon as a woman knows she is to be a mother, her first charge is to present herself to the bojiammó. He will ascertain which of her family’s deceased bought from God the soul of the creature that she feels in her womb. Once the buyer is identified, she must build a little chapel to this child’s protector or patron spirit.

The name bopiammó, although its original meaning was adorer of the spirits, has other overlapping meanings such as possessed by spirits, possessed by the devil, witch, sorcerer, etc., inasmuch as they believe themselves to have a pact and intimate relationship with the beings of the other world. They boast of it and that a bojula (pure spirit) lives in their own head, from which they obtain personal intercession and consecration. This is called bojulera lera, mojulera and also o jura mmó: to be inspired or possessed of the spirit.

During her pregnancy the mother will meticulously clean and adorn the small chapel dedicated to the spirit owner of the small child. She will burn a sacred fire that she will look after feeding while her interesting state lasts. In a corner of the small chapel she will place a clay vessel surrounded by small sticks (ribaddobaddo), which she will fill with sea water. She will sacrifice a rooster and with its blood sprinkle herself and the entrance and walls of the rojia. She will hang the head of the victim with a small bundle of his feathers on the roof, and from time to time she will cook in the sacred fire a stew of lojiri, lonay, loney or lokaba (a fruit somewhat similar to the tomato) and fish or snails (ntochi). This stew must be cooked in sea water, not fresh water.

She will adorn herself with different amulets, such as a skeleton of a nonvenomous snake (botebebe), knuckle bones of antelope (sipolo, sibolo), a strip of skin from the aforementioned snake, and a calabash neck, along with the tip of a sheep’s tail. Surrounding her waist will be a strip of goat hide to which she will attach a fruit from a climbing plant called isoba, and in the absence of the goat hide, she will wear one from a venomous snake (bebila or mebila).

On designated days she is required to cover her abdomen with a large goat skin that it is the custom of the bojiammó to keep for these cases. The most distinguished old woman will anoint her abdomen with ntola, and, in its absence, with palm oil and she will offer to the bojiammó, from time to time, a calabash of palm wine mixed with the fruit of the tupé and bark of the boale. She will carry firewood to the rojia (kom), dried skin peel of olive (ntutu, nchuchu), and dried seeds of palm (eaka), with the goal of preserving the sacred fire.

If the woman had previously suffered a miscarriage or premature birth, when again she is pregnant, occasionally she will ask the blessing of the bojiammó, so that she will give birth successfully. The bojiammó will take hold of her waist with both hands, passing them softly from the back to the front, on top of the groin, for three times, saying: Elé baribó, olo bola e sokobo: “Do not permit, oh spirit, that the infant be abortive.” This blessing they call O boa o buela bo boaiso ennabio: “To bring the womb along.” It is of relevance to note that the Bubi woman submitted herself to these ceremonies with the sole purpose and natural desire to procreate robust children. The greatest ambition of the Bubi is to have hearty and numerous progeny. It was because of this that fertility, in antiquity, was so esteemed, honored and reputed as a gift from the ancestors and so much more dear and appreciated was a husband with greater fertility. To them were completely unknown the perversions and crimes against procreation and nature. Sterility was judged as the greatest disgrace, dishonor, and a curse from the ancestors.

She who gave birth to twins was congratulated and received well wishes from neighbors, relatives, and friends. She was held in grand honor and given compliments and gifts of lambs, small goats, and chickens for this outstanding gift received from the souls of the ancestors.

During postpartum, the mother ate only a broth of herbs called bileppa, fish, and snails. The husband and friends left to go hunting, and with that hunt they celebrated a family feast in honor and thanksgiving to the mmo oró bola, the spirit who bought the infant. After a week, they had another family festival, with which they solemnized the infant’s leaving the house (lopuri lo bóla) and they gave a name to the child. The name ordinarily was the name of the spirit patron who they supposed had bought the child.

When the child turned five years old, he was subjected to the cruel torment of his barbaric and savage tattoo, of which we have already spoken. Thanks to God this bloody custom has ceased to exist.

At puberty, a young man had to sacrifice to his spirit patron a goat in thanksgiving of having been conserved healthy and robust until then and in requesting a happy, long life and virile power to produce many vigorous children. The blood of the sacrificed is placed in a piece of calabash. Some of it is scattered in the rojia, and the rest is spread on the shoulders, chest, back, and knees of the offerer (o uter’ a bannobio.)

The victim was butchered and cooked in the same sacred fire in the rojia and also eaten there.

From this moment the adolescent is treated as an adult and allowed to attend general assemblies.

The first fruits of his work he will present to the spirit in his rojia, where he will cook and eat them. The first wine of his palm trees he will put in the epanchi (small pot of clay) situated in a corner, and there it will stay until it evaporates or the insects have consumed it.

In all the troubled times and critical moments of his life, the Bubi goes to his small chapel. With sea water kept in the epanchi, daily he will wet his forehead, shoulders, stomach, and knees. There they will put him in serious illness and there he will almost certainly die.

50. Bomputtu and Siobo

Bomputtu is one of the customs that they scrupulously observe. It is carried out two times a year: at the first of December, before the beginning of yam planting, and in June, when they harvest their first fruits.

Before yam planting, the great men of the district assemble, presided over by the bojiammó, in the small village chapel dedicated to God (rojia ra Rupé). They cook yams from the reserves for seed. They cut the throat of a male goat (ropeporí) and spread his blood in the rojia and on the chest, back, and shoulders of the assistants. They butcher the goat, putting the pieces over hot coals on the sacred fire to grill.

Law prohibits eating the meat of the male goat sacrificed on this occasion boiled or cooked in another manner.

The principal goal of this sacrifice is to implore the Supreme Creator of the universe to protect and shelter the new plantings so that they will be good and abundant. They wash themselves with the victim’s blood to free themselves from legal and moral stains and to appease and have the favor of the Creator in all things.

The sacred feast finished, in which they each drink calabashes of palm wine, they stand and begin the dance and song, whose lyrics are, in December: To a purí lo loa, toe a loebat: “We leave from one year and enter in another.” This religious function finished, permission is given to begin the clearing of undergrowth for new fields. The first of these is the small field for God (Eputa a Rupé (N), Eberi a Pótó (S)). Everyone in the district must contribute to its work.

In the middle of June they repeat the ceremony, this time cooking the first harvest of yams (bibattu) to give thanks to the Supreme Being for these first fruits: To a purí lo loa, toe pari loela. The assistants in the Bomputtu are painted red with different white or yellow figures made with the soil by the name of boem. They assemble for the same dance that they did in December (asa nchi) adding the following: Eh, Rupé! Eh, Rupé! Ue boobo, boomo, to o potobiera bilo bibatta, s’och’ omma: “Oh, God, all powerful. We thank you for the first yams, now and forever.”

On this occasion only do the Bubis appeal to God as the one responsible for all their needs, to ask him and to thank him. In other circumstances, almost always they appeal to the souls of the deceased.

In passing, it is fitting to note that the Bubi year is not equal to ours. The Bubi year consists of only six months. The year first begins in December, when they start off the new planting of yams, and ends in May. The second year begins in June, when they harvest the first yams, which they call biolalo (S), bibattu (N), and ends in November. It’s not advisable to ask a child his age, because if he is six, he will say that he is twelve, and if ten, he will respond that he is twenty. To ascertain for certain someone’s age, ask him how many times his father has planted yams since he came into the world. In modern times, this way of counting years has disappeared, and they count as we do. But before the year 1896, it was a problem to ascertain someone’s precise age; one had to roughly judge it.

In the ceremony of Siobo, all the village residents went to the bojiammó very early in the morning. He was already seated in the eodda (chair of respect) with some yellow earth painted over his shoulders, back, chest, forehead, stomach, and covering his feet. He attached some herb leaves called ausam to each person’s neck with a palm strand, while the recipient said, Etaole! Ne sele mmó okó re rojia: “Spirit that lives in this chapel, keep me from death.” They wore their markings all day, when they went to the fields, to their chores, and to their business.

This ceremony demonstrates very clearly the Bubi horror of death and their fervent desire to live for many years.

51. Lotubia or Lotumia and Botoitoi or Bonoha

Just as the Bomputtu is an exclusive rite of the noble, elderly men, the Lotubia is a rite exclusive to the respectable, elderly women.

There are two annual harvests of nourishing tubers, one for yams and one for malangas. Everyone works the yam fields, but only women work in malanga fields. Before planting or sowing yams, which takes place in December, and in the time of its first fruits, which happens in June, the great men gather in the district’s main rojia. In December they asked, as we have said, Rupé (N) or Pótó (S) for prosperity and abundance, and in June they gave him thanks and praise for the good harvest. In the same way, the women proceeded the sowing and gathering of malanga (bijem) with tributes to the woman spirit Bisila, in the north, who is given other names in other districts.

In May, they plant malanga roots, and in December, they are harvested. In these times they honor Bisila. First they plant a small field of malanga in honor of the goddess they call epatta e Bisila. That completed, they gather in the chapel of Bisila, each one bringing from their house a small pot filled with cooked fish, which is seasoned with different nutritious herbs, and an etuka or small basket with cooked, unpeeled malanga. They begin peeling the malangas (bonono (N), bololo (S)), placing all the peelings in a corner. In May they would ask and implore Bisila for a good harvest of bijem and that they pass through life with tranquillity, free from burdens. In December or January, they repeated the ceremony, giving thanks for the harvested malangas and, in both ceremonies, they prayed to Bisila that she bless the small banquet they ate in her honor in her rojia. Thus ended the Lotumia.

Not all Bubi men ate malanga, particularly the nobility and the basako or abstainers. People who ate malanga were called bamesé or poor people of low birth.

Botoitoi or Bonoha – Before the coming of Europeans, the Bubis had no knowledge of gathering salt from salt pits, or using it to season food. They used sea water for such purposes. In modern times, they still use sea water as a medicinal water and purgative, but not as a condiment. It is the general opinion among them that sea water is the remedy most effective for treating intestinal colic, increasing fertility, and for curing sterility in women.

The sole hope of the young girl was, in the old days, to grow to be a mother. Among married women, the greatest ambition was to produce numerous offspring, and the glory of the old woman was in surrounding herself with a multitude of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. These noble and natural sentiments are becoming more and more lukewarm in the women of today.

When villages needed sea water (bonoha or boa), the chief communicated this to the most predominant woman. She gave notice to the others and selected the day. On that day, in the early morning, all of them, in silence, and each one with a calabash, went to the nearby beach. There they first washed themselves and adorned their bodies with small branches of climbing plants. They filled the calabashes, and with them on the head began the dance in honor of Bisila, Laja and Riobadda, according to the districts: E’ho! E’ho! O’ha! O’ha! Bisila esahe obate. Ji’ho! Ji’ho! A bolam, olo koam (N): “Ah! Ah! Oh! Oh! Bisila all powerful. Ah, children, this is my great desire.” Ah! Esaha tojori o bela bola boobe (Bask.): “Ah! Esaha, we desire male children.” Ah! Lombe to ñaha bona boomo (Bal.): Oh! Lombe, we want robust children.” Eh! Laja booparé, choe naha oiela tolaso (Ban.): “Oh! Laja who gives life, we yearn to produce children.”

Later, they made the climb back to the village. If on the way they found some important business or house, they repeated the same dance with the confidence of obtaining some gift. As I saw it in San Carlos, first the women of Balacha danced in front of the mission, next, on the patio of Mr. Maximiliano, and later in the Methodist village, and from all they received presents.

In arriving back at their besé, they raised the level of their song to call everyone’s attention. They proceeded to the various small chapels to distribute the sea water, and took leftovers to their respective houses, to put it in the epanchi of the family home, where, according to general opinion, the spirits of the family live.

When they felt pain or illness, they went to a rojia where the bojiammó blew (o jura) over their forehead and the painful area, and gave them vigorous rubdowns with sea water. If the illness or pain was in the chest or belly, he gave them a drink of water and, putting his hand where the pain was felt, he blew again, saying: E rooppa pule ajo, na jele oreka: “The pain leave you and take itself far away.”

Another Bubi custom that quite clearly demonstrates their vehement yearning to produce children was the mpori ra barikana. In some years, villages would have a large number of matrimonial unions. The newlywed women would gather and all agree to persuade their respective spouses to contribute a certain amount toward buying a goat to present to the village bojiammó. This goat would be sacrificed to the main protective spirit of the settlement, the objective to free them from the infamy of sterility, crown them with the supreme glory of fertility, and help them be mothers of normal offspring.

52. Reconciling and Making Peace

It often happens that some people, even entire families, live a long time as enemies, filled with deep rancor and an inflamed hatred. They will then decide to try to mend the rift.

To do so, they first find someone to be their intermediary or peacemaker. That person goes to the enemy, with a message of peace and reconciliation. If their honest and benevolent intentions are effective, a public reconciliation will take place.

First, the quarreling persons or families designate the day that they will present themselves before the village chief to reinstate their friendship. On the morning of an established day, they prepare some modest food, which consists of meat or fresh fish prepared with oil and herbs, yams cooked in steam, which they use as we use bread, and an ordinary calabash of palm wine. All prepared, they make their way to the rijata of the chief. He seats himself on the eonda, the stool of the chief, and they stand near him on both sides.

The parties pass their right hands by their chins as a signal and oath that they will tell the truth. Then comes the esosorí, or public confession. The originator of the animosities begins, explaining in detail the issue and the motive that drove him to break his friendship with his companion, the evil he spoke, and his vehement desires to take revenge, including what actions he took to injure the other person. While he talks he holds up a small branch of the sacred iko tree, gesturing excessively, ending by saying: N’ka sería; a lo n’pennasiala a serí, nchi la pennaha nkettó nela. “The evil that I did is completed; I will never do it again. I have spoken.”

Next to have the floor is the party who received the offense. He speaks in the same way, explaining what injuries he received, the slanders he suffered, any material damage that his counterpart caused him, how he avenged himself, and other serious damages received. He tells this in the same way, finishing as the first, repeating: N’ka sería, etc.

The confessions (bisosorí) made, the chief stands, and slowly pronounces the sacramental words with great gravity: Obola’ seri; alo loe pal’ o penna lalo, eló elá. “The matter is concluded; thus, then, you two never act as you have acted.” The reconciled respond: Lalo. “So it will be.”

Immediately thereafter, the reconciled take a cooked malanga, each rub their throat with it and spit on the ground as proof of repentance of the past and say: Alo a para tó chi a bajmma eddo. “In going forward, we will communicate with each other always as friends.” The chief takes a small branch of the lotetto bush and passes it from the navel to the neck of each one of the reconciled, giving them each a tight embrace as a signal of friendship. They then eat the prepared food, accompanied by their chief.

This act they call lobetta (N), lobedda (S), which means “firm resolution of the separation”; and o ebettoala (N), o ebeddoala (S), which translates as: “to make peace.”