MALE CIRCUMCISION AND INITIATION IN RURAL AFRICA

AuthorHouse

Chapter One

If one is deemed a failure, the resulting humiliation is so smarting, and the social consequences so important, that the shamed ones prefer to flee the village.

The ceremonies generally take place between the months of March and May. So an active group of five to ten men is chosen to be circumcised in a lapse of time defined by the customary chief and certain old sages. To practice the ritual, they take these young men far from the village.

The objective is to preserve the intimacy of the Beteebhe," or the ones circumcised, but also, and especially, to keep the ceremony mysterious. This ritual is an educational function insofar as it promotes the survival, the knowledge of nature, the sexuality, the religious beliefs, and the social values of the community.

The "Beteebhe" that once lasted several months have been reduced to one month in order to adapt to the school calendar. Some socioeconomic changes have also deprived this ancient ritual of its spiritual and sacred dimension. A lot of adult men who are supposed to transmit the tradition leave their village for the city, in search of a better livelihood.

It's the men of the caste upon whom it is incumbent to preserve the tradition and responsibility of circumcision. It's them alone who have this legitimacy and this power.

At the time of the cut, the men must not blink. They must not show their fear; that would immediately disqualify them. Because the fear is judged to be proof that the "Bettie" didn't deserve to pass to adulthood.

In this case, even though the scene happened outside of the village, the news will have reached the ears of the local inhabitants quickly. The shame is great for the one who failed. And he is practically banished from the social life of the village. Among other things, he won't have the right to get married because one needs to be an adult to marry. The martyrdom is so intolerable that some escape to another region. The weight of the guilt is so heavy that some even go as far as killing themselves.

For those who were able with aptitude to achieve the ritual of passage to adulthood, the imposing ceremonies are spread over several days.

Aunt Binta had made the journey to take part in my circumcision ceremony at my village. I was delighted and even more delighted that she cared enough to make the long journey from her village, Woulandji Foutah, situated on the lower slopes of Mount Badiar.

At twilight, we arranged the instruments of the "Gunguey," which consisted merely of a large bowl of water covered by a calabash, which we hit with shorts sticks to ascertain the exactness of the sound. We also used a variety of musical instruments such as bells, musical bow, lute, and flute for melodies and rhythms. It had to sustain us until dawn.

Before going to the dance, we satisfied our hunger surrounded by our elders, who never stopped lavishing advice upon us while revealing the secrets of adult life so much that we already felt superior to our friends who were not ready for the circumcision, because of a lack of financial means or merely for domestic reasons.

When we were ready to go to the dance, my father asked to see me. Then he carried me into his round slot and asked me to take off my clothes. He washed me with a water of Talisman that he had prepared for me, then he made me sit near his bed while holding my bald head in his two smooth hands and whispered some verses of the Quran. "Go ahead, my son, don't be scared of anything. May God protect you!" he exclaimed.

In the end, we went to the dance. All our girlfriends were already there. Niang Mariam, my girlfriend, Tallatou, her sister, Habibatou my home girl, Fatoumata Titi, Kade, Yaye Bobo, Mama Assy, Aissatou, and so on.

This day my girlfriend approached me to show me love and compassion; she appeared to my eyes as the epitome of health; her skin was the color of a hemp grain, hot and shiny; her beaming forehead was vividly beautiful; her eyes were full of wonder and of sweetness. Faced with this audacity, our Baho judged necessary to tolerate our behavior. When she addressed me, her sweet heart and charm made me forget all my worries. Her voice was pure and clear. I felt that only truth could pass her lips and that all mischief and lies were banished. But, by over all, her eyes! The eyes expressed a confession: "To you, my love! I'm all to you in life, to you in the death!"

This day she was so beautiful that I remained mute, incapable of saying anything, standing before her, silent. I rubbed my eyes and looked away, then when I looked at her again, she appeared more beautiful, resplendent with the beauty of a girl loved by God, a girl chosen solely by Him, to show to the inhabitants of the Earth what can be perfection in a woman.

Then a real storm rose in my heart, upsetting all my emotions, a whirlwind that came to shake me thoroughly, raising like a dust cloud that came to darken my soul. Our Baho with his attentive eyes had understood the nature of the feelings that this girl had for me and summoned me to join the ranks.

We laughed and danced as we avoided looking like anxious candidates to challenge the test that waited for us. Our elders sometimes pampered us, sometimes intimidated us, such as when speaking to us about Manga Simbon, the one who had the delicate mission to proceed with our circumcision. They told us that this man had strength, magic to be among us without one being able to see him nor feel his presence. They even said that he could turn into a snake to inflict punishment on us if we appeared rebellious, just a way to prepare us for the resignation, I believe. They also told us that he heard everything that we said and saw everything that we were doing, being at home and six Miles from our village. There was indeed much to fear, but we took courage, although internally anxious and curious to see the veracity of what they just told us.

We continued the ritual dance as if nothing worried us. Also our cousins, sisters-in-law, and brothers-in-law teased us tirelessly in the paleness of the moon.

It was impossible to either sleep or doze. When dawn illuminated the horizon, I felt the fear wildly, but thanks to my determination, it vanished without being noticed by anyone. After all, I felt we had come too far, too close to the irreversible, crucial moment because people had changed their attitude of us and became less enthusiastic. Henceforth, people looked at us with mercy, knowing that the crucial moment was approaching. I saw my sister, invaded by fatigue, look at me as if to tell me to take flight, to escape this misfortune. Suddenly, our elders regrouped us and aligned us one behind the other and by order of family influence. The honor to be in the first place was given to me because my father was a big scholar (Master or "Karamoko"); he had the audience of an important number of disciples ("Talibes"). He made the translation and the commentary of the Quran, his daily occupation. The second place was given to Abdoulaye Telly, whose father was a respected and very popular man because he was the unique tailor of the village. The third place given to Yaya Labbo, whose father was the first muezzin of the mosque of the village, and so on.

After this very important ceremony, we surrendered to the River Diragodo, which ran by our village of Madina Badiar, to get us washed and purified. Under way, our Baho (who was the one who had to take care of us during the next thirty days) already began to give us some very rough orders.

We were intimidated but always determined to face the test. Each of us had two elders, one to the right, the other to the left. These people ordered us to walk with heads down and not to look to the left or to the right. They threatened us with wrong and shortcoming, so that I asked myself to my very depths how these people who were sympathetic with us all night long could change attitude so brutally? It was a real early and painful test that we underwent. We were so tired and so unfortunate that we didn't know anymore what holy to vow ourselves. In spite of it all, the resounding noises of the night, the laughter, the hugs with the girlfriends, the teasing of the cousins, and especially the warbling songs of the old women were even vivacious. We walked, avoiding the common road leading to the river, because they told us to avoid the wizards of the village who might fiendishly set deadly traps for us.

At the head of the line, our Baho used his local cutting blade to cut a path for us as we proceeded to our destination. Soon we arrived at the proper place, where we had to receive practical lessons of body purification. We also learned some signs and codes so that during our adult lives we could use them if we needed to.

It all happened quickly so that one thing came after another. Although the Gunguey dance lasted all night long, this ceremony of purification took us only thirty minutes.

Therefore, we started the process of returning to the village the same way we had come. The fury of our Baho and the requirement of our elders were at their height. When we were around the village, we saw the round slots sprinkled between orange trees and elderly mango trees, which sporadically extricated an early smoke. We heard the roosters crow, the dogs bark. All of it constituted the brightness of Madina Badiar, our village.

Our Baho directed us to the scene of the ceremony. Here they welcomed us as heroes. The Griots, commonly called the "Gawlos" in Fulani language, sang our praises, and our families distributed money to them. In a word, each of our families appeared richer and more generous toward them so that while crossing the crowd, I heard one of them say to cherish me while mentioning the history of my family, from my grandparents to me. I heard him speak of Thierno Malick Diallo, my paternal grandfather, who was a famous, well-educated, and respected religious man, and of Fode Kaba Doumbouya, my father's maternal grandfather, who was a warrior chief who fought against colonial domination in West Africa. It was indeed glorious, and the brightness of the moment was immeasurable. We entered a round slot not far from the crowd where copious meals awaited us, copious because my stepmother, who represented my deceased mother, had slaughtered the biggest cow of our herd for this special event. Not to mention that each of my mates' families had granted the same efforts.

They had us take seats on a very special rug, newly made of raffia, while our elders argued about which dishes to offer us. Finally the unanimity was reached and they gave us the dish prepared by my family, and the rest of the dishes were given to our elders.

I was filled with moral satisfaction; without this, one cannot alter the concern that I concealed mischievously because I felt that it was inevitable due to the hard test that we were going to undergo from one moment to another.

This time we ate without appetite; they even forced us to finish our common dish, part of the policy so that at the end of the thirty days we would come out strong. But our worries were hardly concealable.

After the meal, we went outside and the crowd cheered us stronger. I heard the same praises pronounced to my attention by the Griots (the Gawlos); the women including our girlfriends cooled us with the help of their scarves while the drums, the balafons, and the violins grew stronger. They quickly aligned us according to the recommended order. My mates and I knew that this was the last stage before the test. Therefore, we started walking toward the mosque. It was a silent walk; not even our elders were agitated, and our Baho appeared neutralized this time because everything that had to happen didn't have anything to do with him. All the dignitaries of the village were seated in a circle under the octogenarian tree overhanging the mosque. Among them were the people who came from Sinthiourou Mody Abdoulaye Dougoun Tunny village, where my deceased mother originated, of Sareboido, of Marou, of Kamabi, of Paounka, of Sounkoutou, of Doulo Oury, of Koundara, and so on.

Within five minutes of our arrival, the whole crowd that we had left behind joined us in silence.

They said that in the history of our village, they never saw such a number of people assembled. For protocol reasons, they ordered us to wait behind the crowd. The "Alphadyon" was forbidden since the independence of our country in 1958, but he continues to exist moderately either by nostalgia or by love of size. Therefore, he took the floor to insure that all dignitaries of the village were present and that all the requirements are satisfied . He spoke slowly and calmly as if every word that he pronounced was the last, while often scraping itself his throat. All that he said was transmitted in a high voice by his speaker, although each could hear.

He began to thank everyone. He asked if all dignitaries of the village were present, and it was necessary to confirm or invalidate it. When this procedure was over, they called us one by one to take our place in the crowd in a circle formed by the dignitaries. Each of us sat before a Master of the Quran, sitting with their feet crossed comfortably and holding in their hands an enriched white dress and a slate made of wood covered with Arabesque writing. Immediately, my Master of Quran told me gently to sit down. He stretched the white dress toward me, then asked me to remove my clothes and carry the new white dress, then to remove my trousers. I did it without delay. I don't know by what miracle he noted that I still wore my underwear.

He smiled with his flowing beard and told me that the underpants must remain there as well. Immediately I rose to remove my underpants while returning him a short smile of obedience. I was done quickly so I sat down again to wait for my mates to finish.

During this time I looked left and right. I saw these old men continually caressing their white beards, scraping their throats, chewing their kolas with their toothless mouths; a long time, I told myself, all these people saw me being born and saw me grow up in this village. All these people wanted to make me a worthy and capable man. A capable man to defeat without being defeated.

All these reasons were more reasonable and encouraging to undergo the test. When my mates were ready, we began the reading of the Quran. I knew by heart all the verses on the slate; I wanted to recite them without looking at the slate but my Master of Quran refused. It was necessary that he read them for me and I repeat them for him. Once the reading of the Quran was finished, the old men, one after another, made a display of their knowledge of the Quran to bless us.

Alphadyon had the right to make the last speech. Once again he thanked everyone while insisting on the respect of the prayer and practice of forgiveness. Suddenly, he announced that the ceremony was over and then he put us in the hands of our Baho. With honor and joy, that one immediately ordered us to align according to the established order. Then we began a silent walk in direction of the place of circumcision a few miles to the east of the village, in a very mysterious forest. This day, on a morning that announced itself without clouds (although the season was the beginning of the winter), two cyclones blew furiously. They joined to become a hurricane. Our very light white dresses floated in an instant. But could it be that this hurricane didn't blow for nothing? Could it be that this was the union of two geniuses that took place?

In spite of it all we continued to walk, our minds full of worries but always determined to finish. Here we are at a place that seemed all plain, so that I asked myself if this was really the place described to us. I saw five stones aligned one after the other. As soon as our elders ensured that no indiscreet presence threatened the mystery, they aligned us each behind a stone. I told myself that this was what the five stones were here for.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from MALE CIRCUMCISION AND INITIATION IN RURAL AFRICAby Amadou Nouhou Diallo Copyright © 2009 by Amadou Nouhou Diallo. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.