Things I Feel Strongly About: Garba 2

Things I Feel Strongly About: Garba 2: It was late. The remains of our supper had been cleared away by that woman. All three of us had stayed together in Garba's room watching...

Things I Feel Strongly About: Garba 1

Things I Feel Strongly About: Garba 1: Author's Note: The idea behind this story is to provoke, and to be thought-provoking at the same time.  The story is based on real even...

Things I Feel Strongly About: What Grok said 2

Things I Feel Strongly About: What Grok said 2:  According to Grok.  "The Botswana travel blog by @anengiyefa appears on their long- running personal blog, Things I Feel Strongly Abou...

Things I Feel Strongly About: What Grok said

Things I Feel Strongly About: What Grok said: The AI Assistant on the X platform said. "Anengiyefa, a former criminal defence lawyer in England and Wales with decades of courtroom ...

Africa's Genetic Variation

Africa is the most genetically diverse continent on Earth, harbouring more human genetic variation than all other regions combined. On average, an African genome contains nearly a million more genetic variants than a non-African genome.

This unparalleled genetic richness exists for several fundamental reasons:

The Cradle of Humanity: Modern humans (Homo sapiens) evolved in Africa approximately 200,000 to 300{,}000 years ago. Because humans have lived here longer than anywhere else, they have had more time to accumulate and distribute genetic mutations across the population.

The "Out-of-Africa" Bottleneck: Roughly 50,000 to 60,000 years ago, a small subgroup of early humans (estimated at roughly 10,000 people) migrated out of Africa to populate the rest of the globe. Because this migrating group represented only a fraction of the total African population, they took only a fraction of the continent's genetic diversity with them.

Deep Ancestral Lineages: Extensive studies—such as those published in Science—have identified over a dozen distinct ancestral populations within Africa alone. Groups like the San (Khoisan) in Southern Africa and rainforest hunter-gatherers represent some of the oldest, most divergent continuous lineages in the human family tree.

Environmental & Cultural Adaptation: Africans live in drastically varied environments, ranging from deserts and tropical rainforests to high mountain ranges. This exposure to diverse climates, diets, and infectious diseases has driven strong local genetic adaptations over millennia.

Source: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0002929722003172

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/science.1172257

Things I Feel Strongly About: Trip to Nigeria 1951

Things I Feel Strongly About: Trip to Nigeria 1951: From a handwritten diary. Click here for a photo of a page of the handwritten manuscript . I attempted to obtain copyright permission, but ...

Kilimanjaro

Last year, flying south from Nairobi to Johannesburg, I was desperate to capture an aerial view shot of this great mountain. In a straight line, the distance from Nairobi to Mount Kilimanjaro is 206 kilometres (106 miles). I had seen photos and videos of the mountain shot from airplane windows, and I had hoped that I too would join this club. But when my turn came, it was not to be. The weather condition on that day was hazy, visibility was poor. Also, it may well have been that the flight plan did not take us anywhere near the mountain at all. I had on a previous flight out of Nairobi to Amsterdam caught a prolonged glimpse of Mount Kenya, in the distance, in the early morning light, silhouetted against the rising sun as we headed north. It was somewhat disheartening then not to have seen Kilimanjaro, and it is to compensate for this that I am doing this writing. 

The highest mountain in Africa, and the highest free-standing mountain above sea level in the world, at 5,895 m (19,341 ft) above sea level and 4,900 m (16,100 ft) above its plateau base, Mount Kilimanjaro  is also the highest mountain in the Eastern Hemisphere and the fourth most prominent peak on Earth.

Mountain height is measured as the height above sea level to the summit. Modern tools like GPS and satellite imagery allow for precise measurements, replacing older methods. Also, though altitude rankings are the most common, mountains are sometimes ranked by "prominence," which measures height relative to surrounding terrain. Kilimanjaro is exceptional in prominence as the world's tallest freestanding mountain, soaring from the plains with no surrounding mountain range. In Africa, Kilimanjaro is unmatched in height. It rises significantly above Mount Kenya: 5,199 m (17,057 ft), and Mount Stanley (Uganda) 5,109 m (16,763 feet). Kilimanjaro's dominance has made it an enduring symbol of Africa's natural beauty.

Much of the readily available literature about this mountain is composed of scientific reports, measurements and findings, together with promotional material for adventure tourism. What I choose to focus on though, is the mountain's cultural significance.

The mountain and its surrounding forests were designated a game reserve in the early part of the 20th century. In 1973 Mount Kilimanjaro National Park was established to protect the mountain above the tree line as well as the six forest corridors that extend downslope through the montane forest belt. The park was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1987.

Kilimanjaro carries a significance that goes well beyond its grandeur. For local communities, it is a mountain of legend, of spirituality, and a mountain of national pride. It is one of Africa's most culturally important landmarks. For the Chagga people, who live on the fertile lower slopes of Kilimanjaro, the mountain is more than a backdrop to daily life—it is a sacred presence. Traditional stories portray Kilimanjaro as a spiritual guardian, a place inhabited by ancestral spirits and gods. Rainfall from the mountain’s glaciers and streams nourishes the fields below, giving life to the banana plantations and coffee farms that sustain the community. This link between the mountain and survival has reinforced its role as a symbol of abundance and protection.

"Kilimanjaro features prominently in East African folklore. Some tales describe it as a place of forbidden fire guarded by spirits, while others tell of great hunters and warriors whose souls rest upon its slopes. For centuries, the mountain’s snow and ice also inspired awe and mystery, as it seemed impossible to reconcile with its equatorial location. These stories were passed down through generations, weaving Kilimanjaro into the region’s cultural identity.

For Tanzania as a whole, Kilimanjaro is a powerful emblem of national unity and pride. It appears on the country’s coat of arms, banknotes, and tourism campaigns, representing endurance and strength. During the fight for independence, Kilimanjaro became a symbol of freedom and aspiration. In 1961, when Tanganyika (now Tanzania) gained independence, the new national flag was hoisted at the mountain’s summit—a gesture that forever tied Kilimanjaro to the country’s journey toward self-determination.

Kilimanjaro’s cultural significance is as towering as its physical presence. For the Chagga people, it is sacred ground and a source of life. For Tanzania, it is a symbol of independence, pride, and resilience. For the world, it is an enduring cultural icon celebrated in stories, art, and personal journeys. To climb or even gaze upon Kilimanjaro is to encounter not just a mountain, but a living emblem of human spiritual  and cultural identity." Global Trekking Expeditions 

 

Journey Journal 5 "Oga just hold on, these are my boys"

We arrived at Abuja just before 5am following our 10pm departure from London Heathrow the previous evening. No, I couldn't sleep at all, I had underestimated how cramped and uncomfortable it would be in economy class when I had thought I could just sleep through the flight. Also, the flight itself was particularly bumpy, with severe turbulence commencing just after we passed Barcelona, and continuing until we crossed the Algerian coast. The captain, who even before departure had warned us about this turbulence, later came on the speakers to explain the reasons why the turbulence was happening, saying that it was worse than had been expected—something to do with the Atlas Mountains and converging winds. But in my weariness I paid little attention to what he said.

It was with this same weariness that having cleared the tedious border health and other immigration procedures at Abuja, I responded to being summoned by two very astute foreign exchange dealers, who seemed to have positioned themselves strategically to waylay passengers disembarking from this early morning flight who were desperate for Naira at 5am, when all other outlets would likely be closed. In exchange for three crisp currency notes, I received a thick wad of Naira notes that would not fit into my wallet, so I requested an envelope and stuffed the parcel of money into my shoulder bag.

I then logged my two other bags across the parking lot from the international terminal to the domestic departures, where upon entering the building I was approached by a young man, "To where, sir?" 

As it turned out, it was this young man who led me to the correct check-in counter for my onward flight scheduled for 10am; it was he who weighed my bags, advised that I carry the less heavy bag as hand luggage, and he who transferred the heavier bag personally to the inner office for loading. As I waited for him to return, being mindful that I owed him a reward for his 'kindness', another young man came forward, "Oga, I can take you upstairs to the departures lounge to relax while you wait for your flight. You can even use the executive lounge.." as he leaned forward to pick up my hand luggage, insisting on carrying it, motioning with his hand that I follow him. 

But at the foot of the escalator leading upstairs, the first man whose return I had been awaiting suddenly appeared as if from nowhere, the two of them standing side by side. So I put my arm around the shoulders of the first guy and pulled him aside, whispering that I wished to give him something and give something to the other guy too, but that I wasn't comfortable doing it all out in the open. He agreed to share with his colleague whatever I gave him, so we moved further away to a more secluded area where I opened my shoulder bag and flicked some notes off the top of the bundle those currency exchange men had given me and handed the notes to him.

We returned to the foot of the escalator where after having received his own share, the enthusiasm of the second guy who was still holding my bag seemed to escalate. After I bid a warm farewell to the first guy, the second guy led me upstairs, where on arrival at the entrance to the departures lounge itself, we were confronted with another security gate complete with a full body scanner similar to the one at the front entrance of the building.

"Oga, just hold on, these are my boys," I heard him say to me, with a hand gesture signalling that I should wait. He then walked over to the men manning the gate and said something to them, before signalling that I could come forward. 

On seeing me arrive at the gate all three men jumped to attention, and I was greeted with repeated shouts of "Welcome sah", " You're welcome sah", "You're welcome", then "Oga, oya, pass, pass, just pass by the side," meaning I should walk around the side of the scanner bypassing it completely.

The guy still insisted on taking me to the executive lounge, something he had proposed the minute he met me. But I wasn't keen on making a statement that seemed to be saying that I was more important than everyone in this large crowd of people seated out in the general seating area by walking past them, and entering this place boldly signposted as the EXECUTIVE LOUNGE. My natural inclination is to identify more with the ordinary people, 

If importance comes to me, let it be bestowed on me by others, not by my own self.

And so it was that I ended up sitting on a hard uncomfortable bench among the crowd in the general seating area for upward of four hours, waiting for my flight to Port Harcourt, tired after a sleepless night, and with pains to my backside from sitting for so long on that hard bench. I did eventually make it to Port Harcourt, though, even if this is not my final destination. 

I intend at some point to say one or two things about my experiences in Port Harcourt too, and how different it is from how I remember it from the 1970s and 80s.

The Bantu Migration

The Bantu Migration from their origins in southern West Africa saw a gradual population movement sweep through the central, eastern, and southern parts of the continent starting in the mid-2nd millennium BCE and finally ending before 1500 CE. With them, the Bantu brought new technologies and skills such as cultivating high-yield crops and iron-working which produced more efficient tools and weapons.

Eventually, the Bantu dominated, with the exception of South Africa and the Namibian desert, all of the African continent south of a line crossing from southern Nigeria to Kenya. In all, some 500 languages spoken today in that vast area are derived from the Proto-Bantu language. Although most historians would agree on the general occurrence of the Bantu migrations across Africa, the precise timings, motivations, routes, and consequences are all still being debated.

The Bantu

The Bantu were agriculturalists who spoke various dialects of the Bantu language. Their heartland was the savannah and rain forest regions around the Niger River of southern West Africa (modern Nigeria, Cameroon, and Gabon). Using both stone and iron tools, they successfully grew crops such as millet, sorghum, dry rice, beans, oil palms, and melons, although they did so at a subsistence level, that is they grew only sufficient crops to meet their own needs. They had the technology to create iron from iron ore, but where this came from is not known except that the three most likely possibles are: the knowledge was introduced by the Phoenicians in the north, the Egyptians or Kushites in the east, or it was acquired locally and independently.

Migration East & South

During the 2nd millennium BCE, small population groups of Bantu began to migrate into Central Africa and then across to the Great Lakes region of East Africa. This movement can be traced by the study of linguistics - a technique known as lexicostatistics - and observation of the relative closeness of local languages to each other and the language originally spoken by the Bantu people of the Niger River delta: Proto-Bantu. At the same time, one should be cautious with such studies as the passage of a language may not necessarily reflect the migration of its speakers. The same might be said of cultural practices and technologies.

It was the Bantu people who founded the coastal settlements of East Africa, what would become, with the addition of Muslim traders from Arabia and Persia from the 7th century CE, the Swahili Coast. From southern West Africa (the West Bantu) and the Great Rift Valley of East Africa (the East Bantu) two streams of Bantu peoples then moved further south in a second wave of migration which occurred during the 1st millennium BCE. A third wave of migration, in the first half of the 1st millennium CE, then took place as the East Bantu peoples moved even further south into what is today Zimbabwe, Botswana, Mozambique, and eastern South Africa.

The process of the Bantu migration has traditionally been seen by scholars as a gradual one of filtering down from village to village (and sometimes back again) through a rather sparsely populated Africa. However, the UNESCO General History of Africa puts a rather different slant on the process, at least in regards to the first wave: 

"The main expansion of the Bantu was vast and fast, not a series of gradual stages as some have argued. But it was a matter neither of purposeless nomadic wandering, nor of organized military conquest. It was a remarkable process of colonization - in the true sense of the word - the opening up of essentially empty lands." (Mokhtar, 320)

The Bantu shared their knowledge of iron-smelting, pottery-making, and their farming skills with indigenous forager and nomadic tribes they met, many of whom eventually then settled into stable village communities. Bantu dialects and aspects of Bantu culture were adopted, although the migrants, it is important to note, also learnt from the indigenous peoples, especially in areas like the cultivation of some grain crops or fishing techniques which had been perfected over centuries to get the best from the specific local environmental conditions. In addition, many cultural practices - the use of stone and obsidian tools, to give but one example - often continued to be used in parallel with the Bantu people's superior technologies.

More here:

https://www.worldhistory.org/Bantu_Migration/

Note: The word "Bantu", although sometimes used as a perjorative, or as derogatory term by racists, is in fact a native African term, a compound word, 'Ba-ntu', which is plural for 'person'. So it literally means 'persons' or 'people'. The singular varies. It could be 'Mu' or 'Mo', ie., mo-ntu, or mu-ntu, literally meaning a person, (Muganda-singular/Baganda-plural, Motswana-singular/Batswana-plural). Bantus also use prefixes like 'Wa' or 'Ki' (WaHutu, KiKongo).

Gidan Makama Museum, Kano

Photography and video making are not my strengths, but this is the place I visited.

"Once upon a time in 1440 AD, a magnificent structure known as Gidan Makama was built by the powerful Sarki (King) Abdullahi Burja. Initially intended as a temporary palace, this architectural wonder has since transformed into a captivating museum. The story of Gidan Makama begins with its creation for Prince Rumfa, who later became the legendary Sarki Muhammadu Rumfa.

Over the centuries, the original Gidan Makama has been divided into three distinct sections. One part now houses the Gidan Makama Museum, where visitors can marvel at the rich history of the Hausalands and beyond. Another section is home to the Gidan Makam Primary School, educating the young minds of Kano. The final part remains a residence for the successive Makaman Kano, carrying on the legacy of this historic site.

The Gidan Makama boasts a stunning display of traditional Hausa architecture, making it an iconic landmark in Kano. Today, it proudly serves as a national museum and reference library, boasting an extensive collection of manuscripts and historical artifacts that offer a fascinating glimpse into the past."

Courtesy Kano Chronicle on X

African Vernacular Architecture

When Africa adopts modern technology devoid of external cultural influences.

Excerpt

"The walls could use hybrid construction systems that guarantee durability over time and that, in turn, maintain the appearance and thermal properties of rammed earth and raw mud; evoking the vernacular and ancestral, but modern at the same time. As well as including the use of beautiful external and internal murals designed by local artists.

The native plant species of the area will be respected, as well as taking advantage of the surrounding trees to generate shade, and the use of outdoor pots to give a human scale, a more welcoming appearance, and a more interesting route. It is essential to involve the community so that a project of these characteristics can be successful..."

Source: https://www.instagram.com/midjourney.../p/CvhPPsWshbA/...

And here https://parametric-architecture.com/rolo-creates.../

A return to the original African outlook on life. Traditional African societies were deeply rooted in a community-based outlook. Life was centred on shared responsibilities where the welfare of the collective outweighed individual interests. These are ideals we should never have left behind. We could have adopted aspects of modern civilisation that were beneficial to us, while holding fast to what was uniquely ours, that which had served us well for thousands of years. We could have adopted modern technology not to ape others, but adapt it to suit our own purposes.

.

Cairo

There are relatively few trees in Cairo, but there are lots of palm trees that ornamentally line major boulevards and avenues. 

Alhough downtown Cairo was planned by European architects, throughout the city is a mix of different architectural styles. I was taken aback by how European the downtown area was. I had seen it with my eyes before going to read up on it, then I understood why the downtown is the way it is.

The beauty of this downtown area is fading now, but it must have been splendid at some time in the past. It still is beautiful though, but there is something uniquely Egyptian about it. And not just the downtown. 

Despite the conflicting styles and influences, the European style buildings, as with the modern ones, almost all have subtle Egyptian touches and finishes, which, together with the use of Arabic signage, include unique features like hieroglyphs, pharaonic motifs, ancient Egyptian imagery, and other ornate detailing, everywhere you look; this including inside the elevators at my hotel; small details that constantly reminded me of where I was. And I haven't mentioned the even older traditional North African and Arabian architectural styles. I found the mixture of the ancient, modern, and everything in-between, very interesting. I would have loved to have stayed a bit longer to roam around more. 

This made me feel that in sub Saharan Africa, and in Nigeria in particular, we have abandoned our traditional building styles, such that there is little in modern architecture that can be termed as a uniquely Nigerian style. Our traditional building styles and practices, except perhaps for Hausa traditional architecture to a limited extent, have been largely relegated to a past era. What I've seen in Egypt is the opposite. The Egyptians have brought their traditional styles with them into the 21st century, taking advantage of new technologies to advance that unique style of theirs. This made for a cultural richness and depth that we could have had in Nigeria too, but don't have today in our buildings.

Tubali

It was unexpected and surprising to me when I heard greetings shouted out in the Hausa language at Poto Poto market in downtown Brazzaville, Republic of Congo, where French and the local Lingala language were the only languages I had heard spoken for weeks. I also noted that Hausa was the language of choice in Ghana's Northern and Upper East regions during my visits there. 

I read somewhere that the civilisations of the Pharoahs of Egypt borrowed some of their technology from sub-Saharan Africa. The famous cities of Timbuktu and Jenne, in particular, are cases in point. What is clear is that the exchange of knowledge and ideas has been taking place for millennia.

'Tubali' is the Hausa architectural style

"The Hausa are the largest ethnic group in West and Central Africa made up of a diverse but culturally homogeneous people, predominantly based in the Sahelian and savannah areas of southern Niger and northern Nigeria. Today, with close to 82 million descendants and significant indigenised populations spread across Benin, Cameroon, Ivory Coast, Chad, Sudan, The Republic of Congo, Togo, Ghana, Eritrea, Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Senegal and Gambia, the Hausa were once best known for fishing, hunting, agriculture, salt-mining, and blacksmithing. Historically, the communities resided in small villages as well as in precolonial towns and cities where they would grow crops, raise livestock, including cattle, as well as engage in trade, both locally and long distance across Africa.

While in more recent times the penchant for foreign tastes, in terms of building form aesthetics and materials underpinned by colonial influences and the modern trends of the time has come to the forefront of African architecture, the Hausa style remains a vital and influential traditional mode of building in the continent. Hausaland, historically a collection of states started by the Hausa people, situated between the Niger River and Lake Chad, boasts countless inventive building forms, bursting with colourful motifs, decorations and innovative uses of interior space. Characterised by vaults and piers, beautifully decorated walls, slashes and punctures, archways, and motifs in various proportions, Hausa buildings are impressive feats of both art and design.

For millennia, the main materials used in traditional African construction have been earth stone and straw, which have been skilfully utilised respectively and in combination. Though few original earth structures remain, aside from a number of carefully preserved monuments temples and mosques, this method of building continues to be an enduring cultural practice among rural communities throughout the continent. Traditionally, Hausa builders have considered the roof as the most challenging part of the construction, both owing to the technology required to support the structure and the decoration that is applied to it. The conventional method of building saw walls being made thicker to meet the structural requirements of the roof; this was done partly to be safe and partly because the thick walls kept the inside rooms cooler.

Customarily, the architectural decorations which envelop Hausa structures are carried out by accomplished engravers, traditional builders who like artisans are highly skilled at handwork and can draw out freehand patterns directly onto the surface of walls before carving out their designs. Consequently, the complexity of a facade decoration usually demonstrates the wealth and social standing of the property’s owner. Another key element of Hausa architecture are the pinnacles, or Zankwaye. Zankwaye are a classic feature of the Hausa building, manifesting in various shapes and sizes, and giving the structures their characteristic form. Like the horns of a bull, Zankwaye were originally reinforced vertical projections around the parapet wall of the roof, handily providing builders with a way to climb up onto the roof during construction or repairs.

Taking into account spaces for social activities as well as lighting and ventilation, a traditional Hausa residence is ideally split into three parts, following a layout that includes an inner core, designated as the private area, a central core, which is considered as semi-private, and an outer core, which is deemed public and is open to visitors. At the centre of the compound is an open courtyard, where the family spends the best part of their days, providing the setting for various household activities as well as important ceremonial rituals. The inner core also connects with a backyard space to keep animals and manage the disposal of household waste. Thought to have been derived from the domestic schemes of ancient Egypt, these principals of living continue to influence contemporary architecture today."    

https://somethingcurated.com/2022/01/11/a-history-of-hausa-architecture/

Soft spoken?

So I've been accused for the first time in my life, of being soft spoken. Me? Soft spoken? Well, I call this an accusation because it is a description of myself that I do not recognise, but this claim has come from two different unrelated sources. The first time I heard it was when while recently in Nigeria, I went to meet my friend at a location that we had agreed to meet. I arrived early, so rather than enter into the building I went to sit with a woman selling snacks and drinks by the roadside under a commercial umbrella.

"Madam I beg, make I siddown, I dey wait for my friend, give me Coke make I drink", were the words I said to her while gesturing that she should kindly make room for me on her bench where she sat. "Oga, welcome o", was the reply as she moved aside creating room for me to sit while at the same time digging into her cooler to fish out my Coke. "Your friend know say you dey here? You don call am?" (Meaning, does your friend know you're here? Have you called him?). "I go call am again to tell am where I dey", I replied, and this while I was consciously trying to be very Nigerian, embracing my Nigerian roots, you know.

So I called my friend who said he had already arrived, and that he was inside the building looking for me. Our arrangement had been for us to meet at the building, not necessarily inside it. Our plan was after meeting, to proceed somewhere else together. I then told him that I was outside sitting by the roadside among the stalls where people are selling things. As I sat I had my back to the building, which likely explains why I had not seen him when he arrived, so even as I was still on the phone with him I turned around and saw him emerge from the building. "I can see you, just look straight ahead, you'll see me."

I understood that he would not have expected me to be sitting by the roadside, but that's where I was, and try as I did to steer him towards me while calmly speaking to him on the phone, he seemed to be resolute in his belief that I could not possibly be sitting by the roadside. The woman, the stall owner, while sitting next to me had also turned around to see my friend approaching us, but whom she could see was staring in a completely different direction. So she stood up, vigorously waving both her arms, and shouted at high decibel levels, "Brother na here, na here o", which finally caught my friend's attention.

After my friend and I were reunited, this woman now turned on me and accused me of speaking in a soft bedroom voice when communicating my location to my friend, saying this in jest, mockingly. But I had seen no need to raise my voice, or put up an animated theatrical display. My friend had his phone clutched to his ear, and I assumed he could clearly hear the instructions I was delivering to him.

The second time I was accused of this was by my own brother. On my previous visit to Nigeria last year, I never heard the accusation that I am soft spoken. So did something happen between that time and now? I cannot but attach a lot of weight to my brother's observation though, he would know, and he himself put it down to me having lived in England for as long as I have. Could it be true then that I might be losing some of my Nigerianness?

Transatlantic slave trade? Africans were active participants

 

In light of the United Nations voting today to recognise the enslavement of Africans as the 'gravest crime against humanity', I wish to set out my view on this matter. To be clear, I do not disagree with this vote. What I have a grouse with is that this resolution was proposed by an African member state of the United Nations, whereas Africans themselves were active participants in the transatlantic slave, and historians have suggested that approximately 90 percent of enslaved Africans in the this trade were captured and enslaved by fellow Africans before being sold to European traders. 

Now Africans are among those rightly demanding contrition (and reparations) from the perpetrators of this crime against humanity, yet Africans have not shown that they have acknowledged the full extent of their own participation in it. As direct evidence of Africans' involvement, below are the words of my own ancestors set out in a document written by them as a complaint to the then British colonial officers. 

In 2013, I had obtained a copy of the original report published in 1896. 

From 7 December, 2013

Today I obtained my copy of this report from H.M. Stationery Office. It is the Report by Sir John Kirk on the inquiry into the attack on the Royal Niger Company's headquarters in Akassa by the people of Nembe (Brass) in 1895, titled Disturbances At Brass. The attack was led by the king of Nembe, King William Koko. 

Sixty of the company's European employees were captured during the raid and reportedly later killed and ceremonially cannibalised. The report was published by the then British Colonial Office and presented to both Houses of the British Parliament in 1896.

Excerpts from the Report:-

"(Grievances of the Brass/Nembe people) 

Memorandum - Case of the Brass Chiefs.   (These are my ancestors)

Many years ago our fathers used to make their living by selling slaves to Europeans. This Slave Traffic was stopped by the Queen's Government and a Treaty made in 1856, to the effect that they should discontinue that traffic, and enter into a legitimate one, and that if they did so an allowance called "comey" should be paid them by the traders on all produce brought down from the interior.

This they agreed to; so that from that time to now we have not shipped a single person, but have traded only in palm oil and kernels.

Some time after this Europeans began trading in the Niger. Seeing this we at once complained to the Consul, but with no effect.

In 1878 Consul Hopkins arrived here and offered us the markets from Abo downwards, but we claimed from Onitsha to the sea.

The Consul went away, promising to consult the Government, but unfortunately he died the following year, and nothing was done.

In 1884 Consul Hewitt arrived to renew old Treaties. We brought the subject of the restoration of our markets to us before him, and positively told him we would sign no more Treaties, because no good came of it, until he gave us some assurance that justice would be done us, and that our markets would be given back to us.

In reply, he said he had no power to make this promise without consulting the Government. We refused to sign the Treaty. Then he requested us to sign it only for six months if we would not sign it altogether, and he would try to get us the exclusive use of the Assay markets in the Warri branch.

On this condition we signed a Treaty.

At the end of six months Vice-Consul H. A. White induced us, on the same promise, to extend it for another six months, in order to await the reply of the Government.

While this was going on (1884-1885) the French Government sent and asked us to enter into an agreement with it, and offered us large and costly presents, and promised us all sorts of good returns and aid; but we refused, thinking we would be more secure under the English.

In March 1886 Consul Hewitt arrived here with a printed form of Treaty for us to sign in place of the above-mentioned one, and said that the Government had decided that markets could not be divided nor given to any one particularly, that white men and black men might trade equally in all the markets, and that all and every market was to be free to everybody.

Seeing we could not do otherwise, we agreed to free trade. Article VI of this Treaty deals particularly with free trade.

About this time Consul Hewitt came back again, and, to our great surprise, informed us that the Government had granted to the National African Company a Royal Charter on the River Niger, which meant that they had full power to do what they liked in the river, and to impose and receive duties from everybody who wished to go there for the purpose of trade. We called his attention to the fact that our Treaty states that trade was free : how was it then that we were not allowed to go and trade freely at villages the people of whom we, our fathers, and grandfathers had traded with in past times?

The Company, which is now known as the Niger Company, has done us many injuries, which were made known to Consul Hewitt in writing : for some time after the Charter was granted they drove us away from our markets in which we and our forefathers had traded for generations, and did not allow us to get in our trust, or trade debts, some of which remain unpaid to this day. Neither will they permit the Ejoh or market people to come down and pay us.

In 1889, Major MacDonald now our big Consul, came to us, and we told him of all these things, and he promised that he would lay our complaints before the Queen's Government : Consul Hewitt was still in the Rivers.

In 1891, he, Major MacDonald, came again and explained to us that it was the intention of the Queen's Government to send Consuls to these Rivers and that we should then have a Consul of our own who would specifically look after our interests. He pointed out to us that this could not be done without money, and explained how the money could be raised by means of duty, and asked us whether we consented to pay these duties. At first we refused because we could get no satisfactory answer about our markets : but eventually we signed, but begged the Major that he would do what he could do to get some of our markets back for us. He then appointed a Vice-Consul Captain MacDonald to the River.

Since then we have seen the Major many times, and he has always told us to be patient, but latterly things have gone from bad to worse, and the markets that we have are quite insufficient to sustain us.

We thoroughly understand that all markets are free, and open to everybody, black and white man alike : and we are quite willing to trade side by side with the white man at those markets. We do not now ask for any exclusive privileges whatever, but only that we be allowed to trade without molestation at the places we and our fathers have traded in days gone by.

We are willing to pay fair duties : but we cannot understand, however, if all markets are open to black and white man alike, while there are many villages and markets in the Niger where neither are allowed to go and trade.

We submit that if we have to go to Akassa, a distance of nearly 40 miles, to pay our duties and are only allowed to trade at certain places selected by the Niger Company called "ports of entry", and have to take out trade and spirit licences and pay a very heavy duty going into the territories, and a heavy duty coming out, it is the same thing as if we were forbidden to trade at all.

The Niger Company say, "We (the Company) have to do these things, why not you?"

We can only say that, with our resources, to carry out these regulations and pay these duties means ruin to us.

The Niger Company are cleverer than we are. We humbly submit that we have a right, confirmed by our Treaty, to go and trade freely in the places we have traded at for all these generations. We are ready to pay to do so, but let us pay a fair duty and conform to fair Regulations.

The duties and Regulations of the Company means to us ruin : of this there is no doubt.

We do not deny that we have smuggled, but under the circumstances, can this be wondered at?

We have suffered many hardships from the Company's regulations. Our people have been fired upon by the Company's launches, they have been fired upon from the Company's hulks, our canoes have been seized and goods taken, sometimes when engaged in what white men call smuggling, and sometimes when not.

The "chop" canoes coming from the Ejohs have also been stopped.

Within the last few weeks the Niger Company has sent messengers to the Ejohs and other tribes with whom we have always traded and said that any of them who traded with us at all, or who paid us their debts, would be severely punished and their villages burnt.

We have evidence to prove all this, which we would like to lay before the big man who has been sent by the Queen.

All these unjust things have been done to us, and many times we have been told to be patient, and have been so, and the wrongs which we consider we have suffered are now worse than ever, all these drove us to take the law into our own hands and attack the Company's factories at Akassa.

We know now we have done wrong, and for this wrong we have been severely punished ; but we submit that the many unjust oppressions we have borne have been very great, and it is only in self defence, and with a view to have our wrongs inquired into, that we have done this thing. We have frequently asked the Consuls that have been put over us, from Consul Hewitt to the present time, to tell us in what way we have offended the Queen to cause her to send this trouble on us.    

Traders we are, have been and will always be.

The soil of our country is too poor to cultivate sufficient food for all our people, and so if we do not trade and get food from other tribes we shall suffer great want and misery.

We fervently hope and pray that some arrangements may be arrived at which will enable us to pursue our trade in peace and quietness.

(Signed) 

WARRI KAREMMA                                                  

NATHANIEL HARDSTONE E.  

                              Witnesses :

(Signed)  

H. L. GALLWEY

Deputy Commissioner and Vice-Consul

Benin District 

CUTHBERT E. HARRISON

Acting Vice-Consul Brass District 

Brass, June 8, 1895

Just Like That

"Just Like That" is a 1986 Afrobeat song by Fela Kuti and his band, Egypt 80. Often described as a "shock and awe" track, it serves as a scathing commentary on the chaotic state of Nigeria and Africa during that era.

Key Themes and Context:

Political Disillusionment: The song reflects on Nigeria’s failed transition to democracy in 1979. Fela uses the lyrics to highlight the absurdity of war, corruption, and election rigging that left citizens "shocked and dumfounded".

Spiritual Influence: The track was recorded during a period when Fela was heavily influenced by Professor Hindu, a controversial spiritual adviser. This influence reportedly led Fela to reject a major record deal with Motown Records.

It was originally released as part of the album Teacher Don't Teach Me Nonsense in 1986.

Grok again..

"Anengiyefa, based in London, pours passion into their blog "Things I Feel Strongly About"—a vivid, unfiltered space where deep reflections on Africa's rich cultural heritage collide with sharp critiques of colonialism's lingering scars, the invented fiction of race, and the pseudoscientific myths Europeans once spun to justify domination. With over two decades of wandering across the continent's diverse landscapes—from bustling markets to remote villages—they weave personal stories of warmth, Ubuntu-rooted hospitality, and human connection that defy stereotypes. 

Recent posts dive into the soul-stirring legacy of Fela Kuti's Afrobeat rebellion, the enduring ripple effects of European imperialism on African societies, and why the label "Black" carries problematic, historically loaded baggage rather than simple description. 

On X, @anengiyefa delivers incisive, no-holds-barred takes: defending Ukraine's fight against invasion, calling out racial biases baked into global conversations, championing human rights, and dismantling anti-imperialist hypocrisy. Whether highlighting how international rules matter profoundly to the Global South or rejecting excuses for prejudice, the voice is consistently principled, intellectually fierce, and unafraid to challenge comfortable narratives."

Welcome

It is a deeply rooted, widespread tradition across many African cultures to be welcoming, hospitable, and respectful towards strangers. This practice is often rooted in indigenous philosophies like Ubuntu and others similar to it, where greeting and assisting anyone, regardless of whether they are known, is considered a duty, showing respect, and extending community kindness.

Key aspects of this tradition include:

Proactive Greetings: In many communities, it is customary to greet everyone you pass, even strangers, to show acknowledgment and respect.

Hospitality as Duty: Historically, travellers could rely on being offered food, water, and shelter in villages.

Formal Welcome: In some cultures, villages had specific, designated people or, in some cases, specific homes in the centre of the village, to receive and welcome visitors.

Shared Resources: Visitors were often treated as part of the community and permitted to use available resources. 

Cultural Significance: This, in part, stem from a belief that hospitality is good manners, enhances social reputation, and brings potential blessings.

It is this proclivity that was misinterpreted as timidity by early European visitors to the continent, for the Europeans were themselves more inclined towards aggressiveness. This clash of attitudes between Europeans and indigenous communities is repeated around the world wherever Europeans arrived for the first time. 

My own interpretation of the attitudes of indigenous African societies is that those attitudes reflected the fact that at the time of first contact with Europeans, indigenous African societies were socioculturally more highly evolved than their European counterparts. Anestral Africans had attained a high level of socio-cultural advancement, there was a high degree of social harmony.

 Sign at the London Zoo

The term "Black"

The term "Black" has historically been used in a pejorative, derogatory, or stigmatised manner in many Western contexts, particularly during the eras of colonisation, slavery, and segregation. During the 17th–19th centuries, the term was often coupled with a social identity as an enslaved person and associated with negative stereotypes regarding intelligence and human dignity.

The perception of the word shifted dramatically in the 1960s. Activists and leaders, such as Kwame Ture (Stokely Carmichael), reclaimed the term to promote racial pride, solidarity, and power, countering the long history of negative, racist associations, such that today, "Black" is widely accepted and used as a standard, often capitalised, term for people of African descent, though some still debate its historical, or political implications.

"While it was once used as a derogatory term for a "negative foil to 'white'," it has been successfully reclaimed, moving from a label of oppression to one of pride." MissionUS — I genuinely dispute this. 

If anything, the embrace of the term Black  only reinforces the notion of otherness. I have great difficulty in embracing and taking pride in a term that its very purpose was, (and continues to be, in the minds of today's racists) the diminishment my very humanity. 

The Arab World — In many historical and contemporary contexts, the term for "Black" (aswad) or specific terms used to describe Black people in the Arab world have been, and often still are, used as a pejorative. Anti-Blackness in the Arab world is rooted in a long history of slavery, environmental, and theological prejudices, leading to the use of racialised slurs. The Arabic word abeed (‘abd, plural: ‘abīd), which means "servant" or "slave," is commonly used as a derogatory slur for Black people. This usage is deeply connected to the legacy of the Arab slave trade. While aswad means Black, it has often been used in a negative or stereotypical context in both medieval and modern literature.

I wish to keep this debate alive. I do not want this to be a matter that is thought of as settled. To my mind, it would amount to a cop out, and the embracing of the diminishment of my own humanity to think of myself as Black. I am a human being, a person; I am more than just a colour.

Our aim should be to work towards the acknowledgement of our common humanity, all of us as human beings.