Times have changed, old things have passed away, but some people are still strange bedfellows with the past – especially the past they never took part in or have misdiagnosed. More importantly, the past they have refused to read about. Recently, a Nigerian celebrity (name withheld) on the Honest Bunch podcast claimed that polygamy is best for African society, urging Africans to return to their polygamous history.
When claims like this are made, I go back to my daily submission that we must therefore educate ourselves. The question therein is (first-order question): is polygamy in Africa’s pre-colonial and colonial past a sexual matter or an economic matter? In hierarchy, would the pre-colonial African man rank coitus over capital? Is it about a large family or the benefits of a large family?
Before we run afoul of hasty conclusions, we must first pin ourselves to the contextual ground, just like the mythology of Antaeus. Without the ground, we will become superficial, unstable and lost. Antaeus was a giant, or rather a semi-giant of sorts, the literal son of Mother Earth, Gaea, and Poseidon, the god of the sea. He had a strange occupation, which consisted of forcing passers-by in his country (Greek Libya) to wrestle; his aim was to pin his victims to the ground and crush them.
This macabre hobby was apparently the expression of filial devotion; Antaeus aimed at building a temple to his father, Poseidon, using the skulls of his victims as raw material.
Antaeus was deemed to be invincible, but there was a trick. He derived his strength from contact with his mother, Earth. Physically separated from contact with Earth, he lost all his powers. Hercules, as part of his twelve labours (in one variation of the tale), had for his task to defeat Antaeus.
He managed to lift him off the ground and defeated him by crushing him as his feet remained out of contact with his mother (Earth). We retain from this first vignette that, just like Antaeus, one cannot separate knowledge from contact with the ground. As such, we cannot discuss pre-colonial African marriage away from its proper context.
Let us take a good look at the ground. In characterising a society, whether ancient or modern, there are two elements, rather closely interconnected, which are of prime importance: one is the economic system, the other the family system. There are at present two influential schools of thought, one of which derives everything from an economic source, whilst the other derives everything from a family or sexual source – the former school being that of Marx, the latter that of Freud. The question is, which drives the other? Does family drive economy or does economy drive family? You need not answer the question. Let us work towards it.
In pre-colonial Africa, one thing is certain: before humans moved to a purely agrarian society around 10,000 years ago, we were first hunter-gatherers (globally, too). We were scavengers, moving across landmasses in search of game. It is painful that we do not have written accounts of this era of Africa but, according to historical analytics, if it is something to go by, bushmen (as the whites called Africans) are said to have been strictly monogamous. B. Russell provided an example of Tasmanians (now extinct) who were invariably faithful to their wives. However, as African society moved from hunter-gatherers to an agrarian society, the economy also changed. And when the economy changes, family settings also shift accordingly.
Building on the foregoing, it seems probable that what first broke up primitive monogamy was the intrusion of the economic motive. This motive, wherever it has any influence upon sexual behaviour, is invariably disastrous, since it substitutes purchased relations for relations based upon instinct.
In early agricultural and pastoral communities of Africa, both wives and children were an economic asset to a man. The wives worked for him, and the children, after the age of five or six, began to be useful in the fields or in tending beasts. Consequently, the most powerful men aimed at having as many wives as possible because it helped them retain their economic standing within society, not necessarily to advance their physical desires.
In pre-colonial African settings, many wives and children formed valuable property and, therefore, enhanced the already privileged position of their owners. With no intent to support feminist rhetoric, women were viewed as property. Thus, the primary function of a wife came to be that of a lucrative domestic worker, and her sexual function became subordinated. In Soyinka’s “Lion and the Jewel”, the old chief was able to outsmart Lakunle, the young teacher, by seducing Sedi, the pride of Iyunloye, into becoming his last wife despite appearing physically weak – a gesture signifying power and class.
At this level of civilisation, it was, as a rule, easy for a man to divorce his wife. It was, however, generally impossible for a wife to divorce her husband. At a slightly higher level, adultery in women was punished with ostracism and some very severe penalties. Mungo Park’s account tells of Mumbo, a pretend demon invented by the men of the Upper Niger to terrify women who had sinned. A man who had relations with another man’s wife was, of course, also a criminal, but a man who had relations with an unmarried woman did not incur any blame unless he diminished her value in the marriage market.
In Adebowale’s work, “The Virgin”, Awero’s honour was violated through a non-consensual act by the village chief’s son, Adisa. The transgression occurred outside traditional marriage customs, representing a significant cultural violation. Awero was socially stigmatised and viewed as a damaged woman who had lost her honour and marriageability. However, Adisa received no punishment. While the foregoing may lean towards male dominance in African cultural society, it also symbolises the fact that women were seen as ornaments with which men adorned themselves. Hence, marriage was more a symbol of class and status than a physical arrangement.
To be continued…