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32 ANCESTORS APRIL 2006 A s my eyes adjusted to the dim light in the inner court I saw Dikko Hamadou, the Fulani chief of Djibo (north-west Burkina Faso). He was swathed in indigo and sitting bolt upright on a wicker chair. On millet-stalk mats before him crouched ranks of well-wishers, here to congratulate their chief on the forthcoming marriage of his nephew. Salam aleykum,” I said. Aleykum asalam,” replied the visitors in unison. Mi wari faa jowte” (I have come to greet you), I said to the chief, and he nodded graciously, offering his hand. We rattled through the greeting sequence and I took a place on one of the mats. Then a figure appeared at the door, the wide shoulders of his robe blocking out the light. He did not enter the inner court, but stood framed in the doorway and pointed a long forefinger at the chief. Dikko Hamadou, maami to maama, maami to maama, maami to maama,” cried the intruder. His resonant voice shattered the calm of the court. Among West African peoples, local and family history stories are told in speech and song by griots. Stephen Davies meets the continent’s traditional genealogists For the memory

Chants for the Memory

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Page 1: Chants for the Memory

32 • ANCESTORS APRIL 2006

A s my eyes adjusted to thedim light in the inner courtI saw Dikko Hamadou, theFulani chief of Djibo

(north-west Burkina Faso). He wasswathed in indigo and sitting boltupright on a wicker chair.

On millet-stalk mats before himcrouched ranks of well-wishers, hereto congratulate their chief on the

forthcoming marriage of his nephew.“Salam aleykum,” I said.“Aleykum asalam,” replied the

visitors in unison.“Mi wari faa jowte” (I have come to

greet you), I said to the chief, and henodded graciously, offering his hand. Werattled through the greeting sequenceand I took a place on one of the mats.

Then a figure appeared at the door,

the wide shoulders of his robeblocking out the light. He did not enterthe inner court, but stood framed inthe doorway and pointed a longforefinger at the chief.

“Dikko Hamadou, maami tomaama, maami to maama, maamito maama,” cried the intruder. Hisresonant voice shattered the calm ofthe court.

Among West African peoples, local and family history stories are told in speech and song by griots.Stephen Davies meets the continent’s traditional genealogists

For the memoryAu

thor

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APRIL 2006 ANCESTORS • 33

“Moyyi!” (Good!) shouted a secondvoice behind him.

“Dikko Hamadou, bii DikkoPaate!” cried the first.

“Moyyi!” shouted the second.“Bii Dikko Mamadou.”“Moyyi!”“Bii Dikko Oumarou.”“Moyyi!”With a shiver of excitement I

realised what was going on. Thespeaker and his sidekick were Fulanigriots, and this was the genealogy ofDjibo’s chief.

Traditional African societies takegenealogy extremely seriously.According to the Fulani proverb, “atree with deep roots is not easily blownover.” Tribes, clans and individuals findtheir sense of identity in the historyand achievements of their ancestors.

Among non-literate peoples, familytrees are transmitted orally, and inAfrica the guardians of these traditionsare the griots. Almost every tribe inAfrica has a clan of griots – experts inlocal family history and masters ofspeech and song.

Hassan Tamboura, the mostaccomplished griot in Djibo, came tothe end of the chief’s genealogy,turned on his heel and disappeared,leaving his young apprentice blinkingnervously in the limelight. He wasshorter than Hassan, clean-shaven andbespectacled. “Moyyi!” shouted theyoung man one last time, then heturned and hurried away.

I did the maths. Twenty generationsof names corresponded to roughly 500years of family history, all delivered atbreakneck speed in the space of acouple minutes. Moyyi indeed.

The first person to write about griotswas the Moroccan traveller Ibn Battuta.In 1352 he was received at the court ofMansa Suleyman, king of the empire ofMali, where he encountered a host ofgriots playing on their lutes and singing

the king’s praises. It is certain, however,that there were griots in Mali manycenturies before Ibn Battuta got there.

Different people in West Africa telldifferent stories about the origin ofgriots, but here is Hassan Tamboura’sversion.

Once upon a time in Mali there liveda beggar called Sura Gato. Gato wasaccustomed to beg from the prophetsof God and one day he went to begfrom a prophet called Ali Badara.

When Badara refused to give himanything, Sura Gato ran to the marketplace and began to list in a loud voiceall the prophets in Mali, conspicuouslyomitting Badara’s name. The prophetflew into a rage and threatened to cutout Sura Gato’s tongue, so thefrightened beggar revised his list toinclude Ali Badara, who was sorelieved that he showered Gato withgifts.

And so it was that Sura Gatobecame the world’s first griot.

The story of Sura Gato illustratesthe different powers of griot andpatron, and their uneasy, co-dependantrelationship. Even today, a fascinatingsymbiosis exists between the griotsand the families they serve.

The ancestors of Hassan Tamboura

praised the ancestors of the currentchief, and his sons will praise the sons.A griot bestows history and honour onhis patron, and in return the patronbestows cattle and grain on his griot.

Genealogy in West Africa is bigbusiness.

By 12 o’clock, the marriage of thechief’s nephew was in full swing. Thewhole of Djibo had turned up at thevillage hall, and were waiting outsidefor the happy couple to emerge.Mopeds wove in and out of the crowd,hooting their horns in celebration. Atroupe of griots from Barabouléwielded their drums and flutes withenthusiasm.

Hassan and his apprentice hoveredon the edge of the crowd, occasionallyraising their hands to sing briefeulogies for passing noblemen.

A large Fulani woman approachedme, her golden earrings and necklaceglinting in the midday sun.

“Dikko!” she said. “I give you thename of Dikko.”

Several heads turned.“Who are you?” I said, taken aback.“Who am I? I am a griotte, the

daughter of a griotte and the wife of agriot, and I have given you thesurname Dikko, the surname of Djibo’schief.” The griotte opened her palmswith a flourish. I shuffled nervously.

“I have no money with me.” Iwhispered.

“Dikko has no money!” exclaimedthe griotte, stepping backwards in

Traditional African societies takegenealogy extremely seriously.

A 1375 map of Mali featuring the king wearing a crown and holding his orb and sceptre.

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Left: A troup of griots from Baraboulé withtheir flutes and drums.

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mock horror. “I named him Dikko butDikko says he has no money.”

Above all else, the Fulani fear beingshamed in front of their peers, so eventhe poorest Fulani man will give to agriot unquestioningly if asked to.

In my case I was saved frommortification by the emergence of thebride and groom from the village hall.My praise-singer cavorted awaytowards the Baraboulé musicians and

began to reel to the beat of their tam-tams.

To research family history in Africa,you can turn neither to the internetnor to magazines. Archives are few,and the only census reports are sorecent as to be almost useless. But ifyou are armed with the surname of anindividual and the town or village theycame from, there is a good chance youcan find a griot who can help you.

That is exactly what Alex Haley did.The resulting book, Roots, waspublished in 1976 and quickly becamea classic of African genealogy. Theauthor was a black American whotravelled to the Gambia to research hisfamily tree. There he found an oldgriot who knew the genealogy of hisGambian ancestors and performed itto musical backing. Alex Haley wasimpressed:

“Spilling from the griot’s head camean incredibly complex Kinte clanlineage that reached back across manygenerations: who married whom; whohad what children; what children thenmarried whom; then their offspring. Itwas all just unbelievable. I was strucknot only by the profusion of details,

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CHANTS FOR THE MEMORY

Last year Stephen Davies interviewed HassanTamboura about being a griot. This is thequestion and answer session, translated

from the original Fulfulde.

What is a griot?A griot is a slave, but not a tanner or ablacksmith or a silversmith. A griot isa wordsmith. His skill is in hoddu(lute) and haala (talk). His work isyesude (listing genealogies) andyettude (singing praises).

When did you become a griot?I was born a griot. All my ancestorsfrom the very beginning weregriots, right down to mygrandfather. My father was also agriot, but someone made him angryand after that he never sang again. Itwas my grandfather who taught mehoddu and haala. I started learning thechief’s genealogy at the age of four.

Who are the best griots in Burkina Faso?There are many good griots here in the North:Saala of Aribinda, Maabo Laamu of Sikire, JaayiLaabetu of Dori, Al Mustapha of Markoy. But the bestgriots come from Mali – Bukari Hamade Farane, Bara Sambareand the sons of Yero Askula.

Do griots co-operate with each other or do they compete?When Bara Sambara visited Djibo, he asked me to tell him the genealogy ofthe Amiiru (the Fulani chief of Djibo). I gave him the principal line, but I heldback some of the details. You must always hold something back, or yourwork will lose its value.

What is your favourite activity as a griot?Accompanying the Amiiru when he goes to visit the bush villages in his

province. I walk behind him wherever he goes and Ising his praises. When we arrive at a village we go

to the house of the delegé, the administrativeauthority in a village, and I recite a

genealogy. Everyone gives more generouslywhen I am with the Amiiru.

What is the hardest thing aboutbeing a griot?It can be hard when you travel in anarea where you are not known.When you come to a new townyou must ask who the wealthypeople are and work hard to learntheir genealogies. Even if youperform well, they might not giveyou anything, not even a hen. It ishard to sing from an empty

stomach.

I met a griot in Boukouma whotold me that it would take me

seven years to learn all thegenealogies he knows.

Seven years is a very long time, even for astupid person!

When you praise someone, what kind of things do you say?

You give examples of the person’s courage or intelligence orgoodness. In the past you could talk about the battles a man fought in – you could recount his mighty deeds. But today the mighty deeds are different. Today the mighty deeds involve travelling to distant places or studying at university, or getting a well-paid job. Even if someone else in your family does these things, you will be honouredbecause of it.

If I give you my family tree, can you learn it and sing it for me? Of course. (Laughs.) How much are you willing to pay?

HassanTamboura.

W o r d s & m u s i c

To research family history inAfrica, you can turn neither to theinternet nor to magazines.

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but also by the narrative’s biblicalstyle.”

The phrase “just unbelievable”turned out to be apt. In a 1978lawsuit, Roots was exposed as a hoaxand Haley was ordered to pay$650,000 to Harold Courlander, whosenovel The African he had plagiarised.

An original transcript of that famousgriot scene in Gambia showed howgrossly Alex Haley had manipulatedthe griot, asking for a story that fittedin with his predetermined Americannarrative. The writer’s reputation wasdamaged, but even today Roots ismarketed as a true story and enjoysrave reviews on Amazon fromunsuspecting new readers.

However, the silver lining of theRoots debacle is that griots now havethe international recognition theydeserve.

Their popularity has been furtherenhanced in recent years by a surge ofinterest in African music. Some of

West Africa’s griots are packing uptheir lutes and boarding planes forParis and New York in search of newaudiences and lucrative recordingcontracts. Others are staying homeand enjoying the extravagance of theirtraditional patrons.

Kandia Kouyaté is one of severalgriottes to have hit the jackpot inrecent years. She is known in herhome country Mali as “la dangereuse”because the beauty of her voice makespeople go into a trance and fall over.Kouyaté has many patrons, includingthe mysterious Malian millionaireBabani Sissoko, who once gave her anaeroplane. Try her 2002 album Biriki,but first make sure that you aresitting down.

Back in the village, TambouraHassan is still waiting for his bigbreak; if you want to buy a cassette ofhis genealogies you have to go toDjibo market. Hassan lives with hiswife and five children in a mud-brick

house in the old Fulani quarter oftown, and he does not yet own abicycle, let alone an aeroplane.

Nevertheless, the last few days havebeen good for Hassan. The marriage ofthe chief’s nephew was a success, andDikko Hamadou rewarded his griot tothe tune of two cows and a bull – agenerous gesture which the Tambourasof Djibo will be praising for at least thenext 500 years.

Stephen Davies haswritten a children’sbook, Sophie and theAlbino Camel, to bepublished this April byAndersen Press. Thestory features anapprentice griot calledGidaado the Fourth and is suitable for 8 to11 year-olds.

APRIL 2006 ANCESTORS • 35

Thomas A Hale, Griots and Griottes: masters ofwords and music (Indiana University Press)Alex Haley, Roots (Picador, 1976)

READ MORE ABOUT IT

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