West African Archaeology: New developments, new perspectives 9781407307084, 9781407337081

Table of contents :
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright
Introduction
Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali)
Middle Stone Age Sangoan-Lupemban Lithic Assemblages of Africa
The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria and preliminary results of new morphometric studies
A developmental history for early West African agriculture
Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa
Beyond Art. Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeria
Destructive times, constructive measures: Danish funding and collaboration to develop archaeology in Bénin
Between the Forest and the Sudan: The Dynamics of Trade in Northern Ghana
Was Benin a forest kingdom? Attempting to reconstruct landscapes in Southern Nigeria
The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria: some preliminary results
The Stone Arm Ring and Related Polished Stone Industries of Hombori (Mali)
Contextualising the DGB* sites of northern Cameroon
Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan: excavation of the mound at Adesina Oja in the Archaeological Reserve
The Dundu Museum (Angola): project for its reopening and renovation (2007)
The linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory

Citation preview

BAR S2164 2010

West African Archaeology New developments, new perspectives Edited by

ALLSWORTH-JONES (Ed)

Philip Allsworth-Jones

WEST AFRICAN ARCHAEOLOGY

B A R

BAR International Series 2164 2010

West African Archaeology New developments, new perspectives Edited by

Philip Allsworth-Jones

BAR International Series 2164 2010

ISBN 9781407307084 paperback ISBN 9781407337081 e-format DOI https://doi.org/10.30861/9781407307084 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

BAR

PUBLISHING

Contents

Introduction. ..................................................................................................................................................ii Philip Allsworth-Jones Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali). ........................................... 1 Sylvain Soriano, Michel Rasse, Chantal Tribolo, Eric Huysecom Middle Stone Age Sangoan-Lupemban Lithic Assemblages of Africa. ..................................................... 15 Laura Basell The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria and preliminary results of new morphometric studies........................................................................................................... 29 Philip Allsworth-Jones, Katerina Harvati, Chris Stringer A developmental history for early West African agriculture....................................................................... 43 Katie Manning Recent developments in iron-working research in West Africa................................................................... 53 Len Pole Beyond Art, Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeria.................................................. 67 Nicole Rupp Destructive times, constructive measures: Danish funding and collaboration to develop archaeology in Bénin. .................................................................................................................... 79 Klavs Randsborg Between the Forest and the Sudan: The Dynamics of Trade in Northern Ghana........................................ 83 Joanna Casey Was Benin a forest kingdom? Attempting to reconstruct landscapes in Southern Nigeria......................... 93 Pauline von Hellermann The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria: some preliminary results. ...................................................................... 103 A.E. Orijemie, A. Ogunfolakan, J.O. Aleru, M.A. Sowunmi The Stone Arm Rings and Related Polished Stone Industries of Hombori (Mali).................................... 117 K.C. MacDonald Contextualising the DGB sites of northern Cameroon.............................................................................. 127 Gerhard Muller-Kosack Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan: excavation of the mound at Adesina Oja in the Archaeological Reserve. ................................................ 139 Philip Allsworth-Jones The Dundu Museum (Angola): project for its reopening and renovation (2007)...................................... 157 Manuel Laranjeira Rodrigues de Areia The linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory................................................... 161 Roger Blench

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Introduction Philip Allsworth-Jones A one day conference on “West African archaeology, New developments, New perspectives”, co-sponsored by the Nigerian Field Society and the Department of Archaeology of the University of Sheffield, with the support of the University’s Humanities Research Institute, was held at the HRI in Sheffield on 27 June 2009. Talks were given by twelve speakers, in four sessions, chaired by the author, Dr Kevin Kuykendall, Professor Larry Barham, and Professor Rob Oldham, the Chairman of the UK Branch of the Nigerian Field Society. Apart from the speakers, the event was attended by 25 members of the Nigerian Field Society and 17 other delegates. The proceedings were opened by Professor John Bennet, Head of the Department of Archaeology, and particular thanks go to Professor David Shepherd, then Director of the HRI, for his help in facilitating the use of the Institute as a venue. The event could not have taken place without the financial support of the NFS, but this support was necessarily limited, and I cannot say how grateful I am to the speakers for rallying around and obtaining extra funding which permitted them to attend. The fact that they did so speaks volumes I think for their desire to ensure that a conference concentrating for once on the archaeology of West Africa was a success. Almost all of the speakers are also contributors to this volume, and I am grateful to those others as well who kindly agreed to my request to take part. Obviously not all aspects of West African archaeology are included here, but the coverage is as wide as possible, with an emphasis on new discoveries, and also overviews to provide an update on certain key topics. It is a source of considerable satisfaction to me that the authors come from many different backgrounds, so that both the conference and this volume are international in scope. A short summary has already appeared in “The Nigerian Field” for 2009, but that is of course no substitute for the full proceedings, which are here presented. The papers are arranged in approximate chronological or thematic order. The first two relate to the Pleistocene period, where West Africa usually does not figure much, so far as general accounts devoted to the prehistory of the continent are concerned (e.g. Barham and Mitchell, 2008). In part this can be explained by the fact that hitherto long well-dated archaeological sequences attributable to this period have been lacking, but for the Middle and Late Pleistocene at least that is no longer the case, thanks above all to the investigations which have been conducted at Ounjougou, an area of about 10 square kilometres on the Bandiagara plateau in Mali. The results of this work are described here by Sylvain Soriano, and his colleagues Michel Rasse, Chantal Tribolo, and Eric Huysecom. These authors are all members of a project coordinated by Professor Huysecom, entitled “Palaeoenvironment and Human Population in West Africa”, which has been active since 1997. The Pleistocene stratigraphic sequence is composed of seven major units, units 2 to 7 being dated by OSL (optically stimulated luminescence) with a span from about 150 to 19 thousand years ago. Unit 1 may be much older. Up to 30 archaeological levels attributed to the MSA (Middle Stone Age) have been discovered within these units. The Holocene stratigraphic sequence (not described in this paper) consists of eight major units. Unfortunately the Pleistocene deposits did not include any faunal or human remains, but the stone industries themselves are quite remarkable. The variability of these industries, in the authors’ opinion, stands in sharp contrast to the relative homogeneity of the Aterian as known in North Africa and the Sahara, and suggests that there was “a frontier separating these two worlds”. It should be noted that the sequence at Ounjougou, on the banks of the river Yamé, would never have been observed or recorded had the river not suddenly changed its course in the 1930s. This reminds us, how much of what we know or think we know about the prehistory of any area, is determined by “chance”. Active reconnaissance in West Africa will surely reveal more of these favourable occurrences. The second paper relating to the Pleistocene is by Laura Basell. It provides a more general survey of the MSA as it has been defined in Sub-Saharan Africa, and in particular the Sangoan-Lupemban. Both the Sangoan and the Lupemban were originally named and defined by reference to sites outside West Africa, but they have been claimed to exist in this region as well. Commonly the Sangoan is regarded as “transitional” between the Early and Middle Stone Age, though if Basell is right the Lupemban will have continued into a much more recent time period. It is obvious that Kalambo Falls is a key site for both Sangoan and Lupemban, and it is fortunate indeed that the publication of this site, begun in 1969, was finally concluded in 2001, not without difficulty (Clark 2001: 28-30). But for earlier writers on West Africa, the essential standard of comparison was provided by the finds from north-eastern Angola, investigated by J. Janmart and others from the 1930s onwards. Of particular importance was the visit made to the area by J.D. Clark in 1959 and 1960, when he investigated the stratigraphy of the diamond mines in Lunda

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province, and studied the material at the Dundo museum (Clark 1963). As he said, the mining excavations made available “superb exposures”, and the Sangoan and Lower Lupemban material which he studied was “always quite fresh and unabraded” (Clark 1963: 19, 103). For its definition the sites of Musolexi, Camafufo, and Catongula provided a basis which was considered adequate (Clark 1963: 106, cf. plates 64-66). Up to now, the Sangoan in West Africa (apart from being somewhat ill-defined) suffered from a lack of good chrono-stratigraphic data, but this has been at least partially remedied by the investigations conducted at Anyama (Bété I) in the Ivory Coast by Professor V.P. Liubin and his colleagues (cf. AllsworthJones 2002). At this site, a TL date of 254±51 thousand years has been obtained on a sample 1.5-2 metres below the lowest occurrence of tools which can reasonably be regarded as Sangoan. In the light of this, the estimated dates mentioned by Basell for Asokrochona do look too young. She advances strong arguments in favour of a re-examination of West African Sangoan and other sites using dating techniques previously unavailable (particularly OSL) and Asokrochona looks like a promising place to start. She is at present continuing her own investigations at Rambogo rock shelter in Kenya. There is a West African connection here too, in that this site was first excavated by John Onyango-Abuje, who was for a time a member of staff at the University of Ibadan, and it is good that it is being rescued from oblivion. The site of Iwo Eleru takes us from the Pleistocene to the early Holocene. This is a rock shelter in southwest Nigeria, 25 km south of the present northern limit of the forest zone, excavated by Thurstan Shaw and his colleagues in 1965, and published in 1984. The original purpose of the excavation was to test the conflicting hypotheses, either that the forest could not have been occupied before the introduction of iron tools, or that the occurrence of ground stone axes in presently forested areas implied that it had been so occupied. The excavation demonstrated that the rock shelter had indeed been occupied during the Late Stone Age. At the base of the sequence, in square D23, the traces of a human burial were found, consisting of a skull, teeth and mandible, as well as poorly preserved post-cranial remains. Charcoal found around the burial produced a radiocarbon date of 11,200±200 BP. The occupation at this level could be characterised as an aceramic LSA, and it seemed probable that at that time the site existed in a savanna landscape. Pottery came in at about 7000 years ago, and in Shaw’s view forested conditions are likely to have prevailed in the area from that time onwards. The reason for returning to the site now has to do with the characteristics of the skull. Originally reconstructed and studied by Don Brothwell and Peter Andrews, it was included by Chris Stringer in his doctoral thesis, where it was demonstrated that it did have some archaic characteristics. New studies have now been carried out by Katerina Harvati, using the techniques of geometric morphometrics, and the archaic shape of the cranial vault has been confirmed. These authors will present the full results of this new palaeoanthropological research in an appropriate journal in the near future. The primary purpose of the present paper is to re-examine the archaeological context of the find, in the light of new knowledge acquired concerning the LSA in West Africa, in the years since the excavation was carried out. From the archaeological point of view, it is fair to say that, in general, the conclusions reached and the comparisons made by Thurstan Shaw and his principal collaborator, Steve Daniels, have stood the test of time. Significant human burials have since been excavated elsewhere in West Africa, notably at Shum Laka and Gobero, but so far Iwo Eleru retains its status as the earliest known such burial in the region. In connection with the Sheffield conference, Shaw and Daniels were interviewed by Doig Simmonds, and some recollections of the dig, as well as some photographs of the work in progress, were provided by Joel Vanderburg. In the interview, Shaw emphasised that his concern had been above all to rule out the possibility that the burial was intrusive from above. Daniels emphasised that there was nothing to suggest that the skeleton was not an integral part of the LSA occupation. It would not be right to treat it as something all on its own, separate from the artefacts with which it was associated. Among other things, Joel Vanderburg vividly recalls how the skeleton was located and removed from the site. It was near the end of the excavation. One of the workers - all local men trained on the spot by “the boss” - noticed a greyish discolouration in the surface of the trench and called Thurstan Shaw over to have a look at it. “There was an awareness that something quite different might just be presenting itself”. When it became clear that this was a burial, the decision was taken to isolate it as far as possible within a block of soil, and remove that block in its entirety. A wooden frame and a matrix of wire encased in plaster was put in place, prior to the “flipping” of the block from its pedestal: “a fate likely unanticipated, unimagined by the skeletal resident”. The whole process took at least five days, having regard to the friable state of the bones. Near neighbours to Iwo Eleru were shown to be Omo 2 and Ngandong, in Stringer’s original analysis, and Ngaloba and Djebel Irhoud, in the more recent analysis by Harvati. Three of these (Omo, Ngaloba, and Djebel Irhoud) are classified as archaic Homo sapiens, and are dated to approximately 190-200 thousand years ago (Barham and Mitchell 2008: Table 6.1). (Ngandong is more distant in every sense, since it is in Java and is variously classified as early Homo sapiens or late Homo erectus: Klein 1989, 246-248).

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On the face of it this is a surprising result, but there are some hints in the recent literature that all may not be what it has seemed, in terms of the “Out of Africa” hypothesis for the origins of anatomically modern humans (Tattersall 2009). Gunz et al. (2009) and Endicott et al. (2010), arguing from the point of view of neurocranial geometry and mtDNA respectively, make the point that this archaic population was very variable, so much so that “early modern humans were already divided into different populations in Pleistocene Africa”. Chris Stringer (2006:19) - in phraseology surely unprecedented for him - asks, “Could there have been an African version of multiregionalism, with modern morphology coalescing from various populations across the continent?”. There are more questions than answers here, but an indication that such variability may have extended into the late Pleistocene has just emerged from a recent study of the human remains from the principal fossiliferous level at Ishango (in the DRC), dated to about 20-25 thousand years ago (Crevecoeur et al. 2010). According to the preliminary report, these remains “lie on the edge of extant modern human diversity”. Iwo Eleru may not be alone therefore. Clearly these are questions that must be addressed by the palaeoanthropologists, but for the moment it seems that there is less certainty about the nature of AMH in Africa, including Iwo Eleru, than one might have thought. General overviews of early West African agriculture and iron-working are provided by Katie Manning and Len Pole. The importance and early cultivation of domestic pearl millet is absolutely clear from Manning’s account. The fact that it was long preceded by the domestication of cattle and was not synchronous with the appearance of pottery, as the author says, negates the concept of a “Neolithic package” as conceived in the Near East and Europe. Manning also refers to the situation south of the Sahel, and in particular to the Kintampo complex, as it exists in central Ghana. Until recently, discussion about it revolved to a great extent around the results of the excavations at Kintampo 6 rockshelter (Colin Flight 1967-68 60 square metres, Ann Stahl 1982 three square metres). At this site, the Kintampo occupation was preceded by one that was referred to as the ‘Punpun phase’. Flight emphasised the distinction between the two, in terms both of material culture and economy, but following her excavations Stahl (1985) proposed an alternative model, whereby an indigenous LSA population interacted with an incoming one to produce a distinctive local adaptation (or “coalescence”) based on a fusion of autochthonous and exotic traits. The debate has now been reignited by Derek Watson following his own excavations (40 square metres) in six rockshelters in the Boase region 27 km south-west of K6 (Watson 2005, with accompanying vitriolic discussion, and D’Andrea et al. 2006). In Watson’s view, similar to that first enunciated by Flight, the Kintampo people were migrants from the Sahel, agro-pastoralists, as distinct from the preceding hunter-gatherers of the ‘Punpun phase’. Still however there was a “contact zone” between the two (Watson 2005: 32), and it is suggested that the Kintampo people may have “adopted the processing and use of oil palm … and other forest resources from indigenous Punpun foragers” (D’Andrea et al. 2006: 212). So there was still a fusion of one kind or another. On the evidence available, oil palm was widely used at many sites in West Africa (D’Andrea et al. 2006, Table 8), and it is only regrettable that we do not have similar evidence for yams. In the Sub-Sahelian region, in the end, these resources became equally or more important than cereals, and hopefully, in the future, research as stimulating as that presented here will improve our knowledge of it. Len Pole provides a wide ranging review of recent developments in iron working research in West Africa as a whole. Among other things, he has been able to take into account the papers presented and the discussion which occurred at the World of Iron Conference held in London in February 2009 (WIC 2009, Dolan 2009). This event, organised by Xander Veldhuijzen and Jane Humphris, constituted a truly remarkable forum, where the emphasis was deliberately placed on the evidence from outside Europe. As Pole points out, it is quite a while ago now that S.K. and R.J. McIntosh suggested (1988) that it was time to move away from a fixation on dates to concentrate instead on the “anthropology of early metallurgy in West Africa”. It is clear from his discussion that this has not happened, and there is much here about claimed dates for the introduction of iron technology going back well before the first millennium BC. From various case histories (e.g. Do Dimmi, Afunfun, and Oboui) it is obvious that all aspects of these dates need to be carefully scrutinised – materials, methods, and above all context – and, as Clist emphasised at the WIC conference, once a reasonable number of dates have been assembled for any particular region, it is the outliers that must be examined with particular care. Other aspects examined by Pole include variations in production regimes, procedures, and capacity. He also considers the social position occupied by smiths and smelters in different West African polities, and the reasons for the demise of the industry. Actually, it would be idle to assume that these matters can be or are discussed in a wholly neutral environment. As I pointed out some time ago (1994), there are strong ideological elements here: “Imported or indigenous, these are issues which touch on national sentiments, and arguments about them can easily acquire cultural or even racial overtones, no matter how much formally speaking the discourse is conducted at an intellectual level”. No doubt we should all try to keep a cool head.

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Nok is a name that usually comes up in connection with early iron smelting. It is of course much more well known because of the terracottas which have been recorded in this area since the 1940s (Fagg 1977). As Bernard Fagg said, it was the “accident of alluvial tin-mining” which helped to reveal the existence of this sculptural tradition “which might otherwise have remained indefinitely buried”. In her presentation on the Nok Culture, Nicole Rupp explains the background to the work which has been conducted in this area by a joint team from Frankfurt University, the Nigerian National Commission for Museums and Monuments, and the University of Jos, from 2005 onwards. A new grant from the German Research Foundation ensures that it will continue for some time. Essentially the objective is to find out, in a multi-disciplinary way, what the context of these terracottas was, i.e., to see them as more than art objects – although the fact that they are seen as art objects explains why the project is also urgent. Looters are active, and they must be thwarted. So far almost 100 sites are known, and 25 have been investigated by test excavations. These have provided, as the author puts it, many “sober facts” which have already increased our understanding of these sites considerably. The Nok Culture (with or without iron) may go back to the beginning of the first millennium BC. Among other things, it has been shown that some of the in situ terracotta figurines were already deliberately shattered at the time of deposition. Their ritual destruction at that time appears to be the explanation. It should be pointed out that practices of this kind are not confined to Nok. Thus, at Obalara’s Land in Ife, Garlake excavated what looks like a very comparable occurrence (Garlake 1974, Figure 5 and Plate XXXVIII). A concentration of terracottas (numbered C) was found in a shallow depression. According to the excavator, “all these sculptures had been damaged before they were placed in the group and many pieces of them had been lost … [but] care had been taken in [their] final arrangement”. They seem to have been covered with red clay at the time, and some large stones were placed to mark the spot. The site dates to the early 14th century AD, and no suggestion whatever is made as to a direct connection to Nok. Rather, it seems that we have here a widespread African practice, which will merit further investigation. In the meantime, one must congratulate the team responsible for this outstanding project, and wish them well in their future endeavours. Another investigation that began in an accidental way is that reported on here by Klavs Randsborg, concerning a joint Béninois-Danish archaeological project, which had its origin in 1998 when a Danish bulldozer virtually disappeared into the ground at Agongointo near Bohicon in the southern part of the Republic of Bénin. A number of subterranean structures or “caves” were discovered as a result of this, and the work of the team was subsequently expanded into other areas, as recounted by Randsborg. The finds included iron mines and slag heaps, also commented on by Len Pole in his chapter. Full details concerning the work of the project so far have just been published (Randsborg and Merkyte 2009). So far as historical archaeology is concerned, the precolonial cities of West Africa have continued to occupy centre stage - as shown by the recent success in London of the exhibition on the Kingdom of Ife (Drewal and Schildkrout 2010) - and in considering why and how they came into being the role of trade has continued to be a focus of interest (MacEachern 2005). As a result of their excavations at Jenné-Jeno, S.K. and R.J. McIntosh came to the conclusion that an Islamic “external stimulus” model could not account for its existence, since it was “too big, too early, too far south” for this to have taken effect (1980:448; cf. ed. S.K. McIntosh 1995: 390-393), but it had its own extensive trading network. Similarly, Horton (1979) argued that Ife’s rise to power in the period from AD 900 to 1450 and its subsequent decline was due to changing patterns of trade between the forest and coastal areas on the one hand and the Sahara and savanna on the other, though here again (as argued by Connah 1987: 149) an “external stimulus” model does not have to be invoked. This is the kind of world addressed by Joanna Casey in her chapter, but she does so from a different angle. She directs attention to the Guinea savanna and in particular to northern Ghana, which lay on the route between Timbuktu and Begho and between Kano and Salaga. Market towns here would have flourished, though few exotic artefacts have so far been found at excavated sites in the region, and Casey considers the reasons for this. The caravans traversing the area were probably quite large, and, as she says, they could not have survived without the assistance of local communities, who will have benefited from their presence. The role of women is emphasised, since they will have acted for example as the providers of shea butter. I am not sure though that we should refer to these providers of services as ‘indispensible subordinates’, since that has rather a ‘subaltern’ ring to it (cf. Sim, 1998), even in a world of non-centralized polities. Benin city, in Nigeria, is at the opposite extreme, since it represented a “strongly centralized authority” and has been assumed to be “deep in the rainforest” (Connah 1987: 134). Pauline von Hellermann in her contribution throws some doubt on the latter assertion. Her reconstruction relies principally on historic records, and the difficulties inherent in their use are obvious from what she says: accounts written by authors who never actually went to Benin, translations which convey different meanings, changes in attitude on the part of visitors who saw only what they expected to see. All these problems are recognised. With regard to the archaeological and environmental evidence, as

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she says, Shaw was cautious about interpreting the gloss-edged trapezoids from Iwo Eleru (north-west of Benin) as necessarily indicating cereal production, but his discussion was in terms of sorghum rather than millet, and the evidence from Okomu forest reserve suggesting earlier human disturbance in that area is certainly intriguing. Then there is the legitimate question, how and why would extensive earthworks have been constructed in this area if it was in the middle of thick rainforest? So once again we may have more questions than answers. The paper by Orijemie, Ogunfolakan, Aleru, and Sowunmi, presented at the conference by Professor Sowunmi, relates to the archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, an abandoned settlement of the Igbomina people in south-west Nigeria, excavated in 2006. She has been instrumental in carrying out and encouraging the study of archaeological sites from the environmental point of view for many years, and the principal interest of this paper resides in the palynological results. The presence of oil palm (Elaeis guineensis) is noteworthy and its increase in the later levels of the site is clearly due to human activity, which probably also accounted for the reduction in forest cover. The presence of three ornamentals, particularly in the lowest level sampled (98cm), is more controversial and occasioned some discussion at the conference, since they are exotic to the continent (Keay et al. 1964) and are commonly regarded as late introductions. The identification of Lagerstroemia indica (Lythraceae) and Delonix regia (Caesalpiniaceae) in the authors’ view is sure, although they do not exclude the possibility that these pollens may possibly belong to indigenous hitherto unidentified forest species. As they point out, Burkill (1995) agreed that another exotic member of the Lythraceae, Lawsonia inermis (henna), was an early introduction, and he makes the same claim for Punica granatum (pomegranate), both originating in western Asia. So in this family Lagerstroemia indica at least does not stand alone, as a possible early continental import. As the authors say, it is envisaged that further palynological investigations will be conducted at the site, with a view to clarifying some of the remaining issues. Three papers follow, all of which relate to ethnoarchaeology in one way or another. Coming to a satisfactory definition of that term is not an easy job. David and Kramer (2001: Table 1.1) list 12 variants, whereas Paul Lane (2005: 34) thinks that they may be boiled down to two. For our purposes, however, I think that a single portmanteau definition, as given by MacEachern (1996: 247), should suffice: “In practice, ethnoarchaeological research involves investigations of the material culture, behavior, and beliefs of presentday populations, with the object of that research being the generation of propositions about the cultural contexts of residues recovered from archaeological occurrences”. This definition, as he emphasises, covers a multitude of different approaches which have been adopted in Africa, depending upon geographical location, francophone and anglophone traditions of research, changing professional paradigms and concerns, and the dominance of certain individuals, among other things, the distinction between palaeoanthropological versus postprocessual approaches constituting, as he says, “a forbidding chasm indeed”. The first paper is by Kevin MacDonald, and concerns the manufacture of polished stone arm rings and other artefacts (including small stone axes) from the village of Hombori in Mali. Genuine LSA tradition or historic re-invention? This is a tricky question. The author documents his investigation of this industry in 1993, and what he learned from the late Mammadou Sallya. His provisional conclusion is that the Songhay may have taken up stone bracelet making anew to satisfy a Tuareg market from the 17th century onwards, but in doing so they may not have been unconscious of the relics of the past, just as the carving traditions of medieval Europe have not been totally forgotten. A similarly difficult interface between past and present is confronted by Gerhard Muller-Kosack in his paper on the settlement of the northern Mandara mountains, including the Gwoza hills, in present-day Nigeria. This paper should be read in conjunction with Nicholas David’s book on the DGB sites of Northern Cameroon (2008). In his section on “concepts and migrations” in this book, the author makes the claim that “historical links of some antiquity exist between the Gwoza hills and the DGB area” (David, 2008: 119) and this chapter can be seen as an expansion of that argument. The case for continuity is strengthened by new radiocarbon dates for DGB-1 obtained by Scott MacEachern. The radiocarbon dates for DGB-2 and -8 were centred on the 15th century AD, and it appeared that the construction and utilization of these sites was to be “measured in decades rather than centuries” (David 2008: 72 and Figure 3.7). Now it seems that there were two periods of occupation at DGB-1, the second of which extended up to the mid 17th century, and that the total period of site use was about 400 years. Nonetheless the connections made between past and present are not too easy. The local Mafa still deny that they built the sites. The author considers the traditions of migration and the languages existing in the area, as well as some artefactual evidence, in order to construct a narrative of post-DGB events, but he agrees that it is to a considerable degree hypothetical. There is evidence that the pre-Islamic Wandala state, with its capital at Kirawa, was already in existence by the mid 15th or 16th century, so it is not impossible that it had a link to the DGB sites. The Wandala chronicles contain references to the symbolic function of water as a

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spiritual agent - recalling the Dghweɗe rainmakers of today in the Gwoza hills - and it is suggested that this harks back to the suggested function of the DGB sites as watch and water towers (David 2008: 107-112). The author thus makes his case, without hiding any of the complications involved. I do not think that the interpretation of the evidence from the excavated mound at Adesina Oja on the outskirts of Ibadan in southwest Nigeria poses similar problems, since the time depth is very slight, and the ‘direct historical’ approach seems both right and inevitable. Ethnographic enquiry conducted at various locations in the vicinity threw great light on the significance of the items recovered, for example, the pottery and the animal remains. A comparison of the material remains discovered with what we know from the written records of the history of Ibadan in the 20th century reveals that this village acted as a kind of microcosm of the larger changes taking place in the metropolis. I first learned from Dr Ana Luísa Santos of the Department of Anthropology of the University of Coimbra that the Dundo [now Dundu] museum had survived the ravages of the civil war in Angola and that there was a project to reopen it. I was accordingly delighted when Professor Laranjeira agreed to come and tell the conference about it, and his contribution is included in the present volume. The importance of the museum’s collections for the interpretation of the evidence from West Africa has already been referred to in connection with the Sangoan. Laranjeira recalls the history of the museum, and concentrates in particular on the ethnographic material. Unfortunately, as he recounts, several of the best known pieces sent to Luanda have now disappeared, and while some have been reclaimed, others have not. It is to be hoped that the project for the reopening of the museum will soon be brought to a successful conclusion. Finally, Roger Blench provides an update on the linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory. As he says, Nigeria is one of the most linguistically diverse regions of the world, and a “rapidly increasing research base makes continual updating essential”, particularly in relation to the “historical layering” of the languages. An example of updating is provided by the reclassification of the Benue-Congo languages presented here, which differs in material respects from the scheme presented by the author not so long ago (Blench 2006, chapter 3). Some of the details given here are surprising, for example, the ‘Bantu who turned north’ and the ‘Ịjọ who came south’. There is no question but that archaeologists need to take note of the evidence provided by the author in this and earlier works, and the wider perspective which he brings to the study of the past is a necessary and seldom provided stimulus. He outlines a possible scenario whereby the likely linguistic sequence of events in West Africa is interpreted in terms of population movements, changes in environment and subsistence, long distance trade, and other processes which we can dimly discern in the archaeological record. Too dimly, so far as the author is concerned. He is surely right to call for an accelerated and targeted programme of archaeological research in Nigeria and elsewhere, and for effective inter-disciplinary cooperation, but whether such work will be able to substantiate or refute his numerous hypotheses, in the near future, remains to be seen. One of Milford Wolpoff’s bons mots was that he had been in rooms full of data and listened very carefully: “they never said a word”. I would like to emphasise one feature of the paper about IITA which deserves mention, and that is the extent to which it draws upon work carried out by graduate and undergraduate students under the author’s supervision at the University of Ibadan. There is no reason why good calibre work can not be carried out in this way. The same message with regard to former students and staff members is conveyed by Kit Wesler’s book on “Historical Archaeology in Nigeria” (1998) and by the recent publication edited by Tim Insoll on “Current Archaeological Research in Ghana” (2008) which describes work done at the University of Legon. A research project on the ‘Archaeology of Ritual, Shrines, and Sacrifice among the Tallensi of Northern Ghana’, directed by him in conjunction with Ben Kankpeyeng and Rachel MacLean, has been ongoing in the Tongo hills since 2004, and is now continuing with the help of the Wellcome Trust (Insoll et al. 2007, Insoll 2008). Obviously this topic falls within the sphere of ethnoarchaeology considered at the Sheffield conference, and a paper was delivered by Tim Insoll on the subject (cf. Allsworth-Jones 2009). Two other research programmes pertinent to the themes discussed in Sheffield might be briefly mentioned, particularly since they have both resulted in valuable new publications. First is a manual on “African Pottery Roulettes Past and Present: techniques, identification, and distribution”, published by Oxbow Books (Haour et al. 2010). This book systematizes the classification of roulette-decorated pottery, outlines its distribution in sub-Saharan Africa, and proposes methodologies for its identification in the archaeological record. The standardization achieved will allow researchers to make meaningful comparisons between sites. Second is a volume edited by Haour and Rossi (2010) entitled “Being and Becoming Hausa”, published by Brill. This book revisits a debate that has lain dormant for over 20 years, relating to the historical time-depth of the Hausa people of northern Nigeria and southern Niger. They are not seen as a monolithic category, rather consideration is given to the ‘ways of life’ which differentiate them from neighbouring groups. The relevance of this topic in a Nigerian context in particular is evident. The additional work mentioned, vii

apart from that reported at the conference, is a testimony to the fact that - for all the constraints imposed upon it - archaeological research in West Africa continues to be pursued actively and to make a significant contribution to the subject in the continent as a whole. There was one other subject which came up in Sheffield on 27 June 2009. The organizers did not know it when they picked this date, but it turned out that this was Thurstan Shaw’s 95th birthday. The video recording of the conversation between him and Steve Daniels concerning Iwo Eleru was played, and the meeting conveyed its congratulations to him. I cannot now help recalling the description given by Joel Vanderburg of “the boss” at work at that site. He used a “heavy old brass sprayer” to create a “thin mist of water over the sides of the trenches” in order to make the stratigraphy stand out. As he did this, “Thurstan was the Professor with his chalk in the lecture hall, pointing and gesturing, explaining and questioning. At the time it was fascinating and educational. In retrospect it was almost magical. A man enthused with his work, full of knowledge, passing it on – and at the same time questioning this mark, and that angle, why this and not this – and maybe this, but … And as you pan back from this man in the trench, you see a group of African farmers, and a few colleagues huddled around – and back further you see the red of the earth and the edge of the forest, and further still the forest becomes a huge green frame – in the centre a hive of activity, and in the very centre this man with a brass sprayer waving it like a wand – as I say, all a bit magical”. A photograph of Thurstan Shaw, Steve Daniels, and Doig Simmonds is printed below.

Unfortunately I have to finish on a far sadder note. As this volume was going to press, the news came through of Dr John Alexander’s death. He was a dear teacher and friend to me, as he was to many others. I dedicate this book to his memory.

References Allsworth-Jones, P. 1994. Imported or indigenous: a recurring debate in West Africa’s prehistory. Archaeological Review from Cambridge, 13(1): 21-37. Allsworth-Jones, P. 2002. Review of Liubin, V.P. and Guédé, F.Y. (2000) Paleolit Respubliki Kot d’Ivuar (Zapadnaya Afrika) (The Palaeolithic of the Republic of Côte d’Ivoire (West Africa)). St Petersburg: Russian Academy of Sciences, Institute of the History of Material Culture. Antiquity, 76: 578-579. Allsworth-Jones, P. 2009. West African archaeology, new developments, new perspectives. The Nigerian Field, 74: 32-46.

viii

Barham, L., Mitchell, P. 2008. The First Africans: African archaeology from the earliest toolmakers to most recent foragers. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Blench, R. 2006. Archaeology, Language, and the African Past. Lanham, AltaMira Press. Burkill, H.M. 1995. The Useful Plants of West Tropical Africa, 2nd Edition, Vol. 3, families J-L. Kew, The Royal Botanic Gardens.   Clark, J.D. 1963. Prehistoric cultures of northeast Angola and their significance in tropical Africa. Parts I and II. Companhia de Diamantes de Angola, Publicações Culturais, No. 62, Lisbon. Clark, J.D. 2001. Kalambo Falls Prehistoric Site, III, The Earlier Cultures: Middle and Earlier Stone Age. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Connah, G. 1987. African civilizations. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Crevecoeur, I., Semal, P., Cornelissen, E., Brooks, A.S. 2010. The Late Stone Age human remains from Ishango (Democratic Republic of Congo): contribution to the study of the African Late Pleistocene modern human diversity. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 141(50): Program of the 79th Annual Meeting of the American Association of Physical Anthropologists, 87. David, N. 2008. Performance and Agency: The DGB Sites of Northern Cameroon. Oxford, British Archaeological Reports International Series 1830. David, N., Kramer, C. 2001. Ethnoarchaeology in Action. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. D’Andrea, A.C., Logan, A.L., Watson, D.J. 2006. Oil palm and prehistoric subsistence in tropical West Africa. Journal of African Archaeology, 4(2): 195-222. Dolan, B. 2009. World of Iron Conference 2009. Historical Metallurgy Society News, 71:5-6. Drewal, H.J., Schildkrout, E. 2010. Kingdom of Ife: sculptures from West Africa. London, The British Museum Press. Endicott, P., Ho S.Y.W., Stringer, C. 2010. Using genetic evidence to evaluate four palaeoanthropological hypotheses for the timing of Neanderthal and modern human origins. Journal of Human Evolution, 59: 87-95. Fagg, B. 1977. Nok Terracottas. Ethnographica, London, and The Nigerian Museum, Lagos. Garlake, P.S. 1974. Excavations at Obalara’s Land, Ife: an Interim Report. West African Journal of Archaeology, 4: 111-148. Gunz, P., Bookstein, F.L., Mitteroecker, P., Stadlmayr, A., Seidler, H., Weber, G.W. 2009. Early modern human diversity suggests subdivided population structure and a complex out-of-Africa scenario. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA, 106(15): 6094-6098. Haour, A., K. Manning, N. Arazi, O. Gosselain, S. Guèye, D. Keita, A. Livingstone Smith, K. MacDonald, A. Mayor, S. McIntosh and R. Vernet. (eds.). 2010. African Pottery Roulettes Past and Present: techniques, identification, and distribution. Oxford, Oxbow Books. Haour, A. and B. Rossi. (eds.). 2010. Being and Becoming Hausa: Interdisciplinary Perspectives. Leiden, Brill. Horton, R. 1979. Ancient Ife: a reassessment. Journal of the Historical Society of Nigeria, 9: 69-149. Insoll, T. (ed.). 2008. Current Archaeological Research in Ghana. Oxford, British Archaeological Reports International Series 1847. Insoll, T. 2008. Placing the Tongo Hills, Northern Ghana, in Archaeological Time and Space: Reflexivity and the Research Process. In (ed.) Insoll, T., 2008: 85-94. Insoll, T., Kankpeyeng, B., MacLean, R. 2007. Shrines, Ritual, and Archaeology: Archaeology of the Tallensi, Northern Ghana. Current World Archaeology, 26: 29-36. Keay, R.W.J., Onochie, C.F.A., Stanfield, D.P. 1964. Nigerian Trees. Vols. 1 and 2. Ibadan, Federal Department of Forest Research. Klein, R.G. 1989. The Human Career. Chicago and London, University of Chicago Press. Lane, P.J. 2005. Barbarous Tribes and Unrewarding Gyrations? The Changing Role of Ethnographic Imagination in African Archaeology. In ed. A.B. Stahl, 2005: 24-54. MacEachern, S. 1996. Foreign Countries: The Development of Ethnoarchaeology in Sub-Saharan Africa. Journal of World Prehistory, 10(3): 243-304. MacEachern, S. 2005. Two Thousand Years of West African History. In ed. A.B. Stahl, 2005: 441-466. McIntosh, S.K. (ed.). 1995. Excavations at Jenné-Jeno, Hambarketolo, and Kaniana (Inland Niger Delta, Mali), the 1981 Season. Berkeley, University of California Press. McIntosh, S.K. and R.J. 1980. Prehistoric investigations in the region of Jenne, Mali. Oxford, British Archaeological Reports, 89. McIntosh, S. K. and R.J. 1988. From Stone to Metal: New perspectives on the later prehistory of West Africa. Journal of World Prehistory 2: 89-133. Randsborg, K. and I. Merkyte et al. 2009. Bénin Archaeology. The Ancient Kingdoms. Acta Archaeologica 80:1-2.

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Sim, S. 1998. The Icon Critical Dictionary of Postmodern Thought. Cambridge, Icon Books. Stahl, A.B. 1985. Reinvestigation of Kintampo 6 rock shelter, Ghana: implications for the nature of culture change. African Archaeological Review, 3: 117-150. Stahl, A.B. (ed.) 2005. African Archaeology: A Critical Introduction. Oxford, Blackwell Publishing. Tattersall, I. 2009. Human origins: Out of Africa. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA, 106(38): 16018-16021. Watson, D.J. 2005. Under the rocks: Reconsidering the origin of the Kintampo tradition and the development of food production in the savanna-forest/forest of West Africa, with reply by A.B. Stahl and response by D.J. Watson. Journal of African Archaeology, 3(1): 3-68. Wesler, K.W. (ed.) 1998. Historical Archaeology in Nigeria. Trenton, Africa World Press. World of Iron Conference. 2009. http://www.ironsmelting.net/WIC2009/

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Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali) Dr Sylvain Soriano ArScAn - AnTET, université Paris Ouest, CNRS, 21 allée de l'université, 92023 Nanterre, France. [email protected]

Dr Michel Rasse Université de Rouen, Département de Géographie, 76821 Mont Saint-Aignan, France [email protected]

Dr Chantal Tribolo

CRP2A, université Bordeaux 3, CNRS, Esplanade des Antilles, 33607 Pessac, France [email protected]

Pr Eric Huysecom

Université de Genève, département d'anthropologie, CP511, 1211 Genève 24, Suisse [email protected] Abstract West Africa at the moment is totally absent from discussions relating to the Middle Stone Age. Sites belonging to this period have been known in this region for a long time, but their stratigraphic context has frequently been unsure or is completely lacking. As in southern Africa and in western Europe, progress in our knowledge of this stage depends mainly on the construction of a general chronological framework, preferably correlated with worldwide climatic changes and supported by absolute dates. For this reason the study of the complex of open air sites at Ounjougou has opened up a new perspective on the MSA in West Africa. Almost 30 archaeological levels belonging to the period have been identified within thick Pleistocene deposits, most of aeolian origin. Systematic recovery of OSL dates has allowed this sequence of deposits to be determined chronologically, and the many palaeolithic occupations have thus been indirectly dated. The oldest MSA occupations are dated to the end of the Middle Pleistocene, about 150 kyrs ago. They are more numerous between 80 and 25 kyrs ago, with a particular concentration in isotopic stage 3. As usual in open air sites, the density of material within these archaeological levels is very variable, and only the lithic industries have been preserved. Apart from the frequency of occupation, the originality of this archaeological sequence resides in the diversity of these industries, which follow on one from another without any apparent logic. Techniques of manufacture (such as Levallois, discoid, blade, unipolar, or bipolar on anvil) alternate throughout the sequence, and industries characterized by bifacial foliate artefacts occur more than once. If for the most part these industries fit easily enough within the West African MSA as a whole, there are some questions arising with regard to the diversity of technical traditions and their rapid alternation. Are there regional equivalents for this rhythm of change, does it have any particular significance in terms of the peopling of West Africa at this time, and what could have led to these rapid changes? Keywords: West Africa, Middle Stone Age, chronology, settlement

1. Introduction

The study of the Middle Palaeolithic/Middle Stone Age in the African continent has for a long time lacked and still lacks a reliable chronostratigraphic framework. Even for certain emblematic phenomena of this period, such as the Aterian of North Africa, it has only been in the last ten years or so that dates have been published which one could regard as reasonably reliable (Barton et al. 2009; Cremaschi et al. 1998; Garcea 2001; Martini et al. 1998; Mercier et al. 2007; Roset and Harbi-Riahi 2007; Wrinn and Rink 2003). Until a short while ago the absolute chronology of the Aterian rested almost entirely on radiocarbon dates. The same applies to South Africa, where radiocarbon dates alone considerably underestimated the age of the Howieson’s Poort industry, a facies of the MSA which is characterised by the use of blades (Jacobs et al. 2008; Tribolo et al. 2005). One should note that the discovery

of objects having a symbolic significance (engravings and shell beads) has impacted on the debate concerning the emergence of behavioural modernity, and this has given a significant impetus to new dating work (e.g., Bouzouggar et al. 2007). Research concerning this period is very unevenly distributed across the African continent as a whole, and West Africa has been left out of account in the various debates which have taken place over the last few decades. The total absence of any reference to this region in current discussions concerning the origins of modern man in an anthropological and cultural context, and more generally in syntheses concerning the Middle Palaeolithic/MSA, is a case in point (McBrearty and Brookes 2000). After some renewal of activity in the 1980’s (Allsworth-Jones 1

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

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Figure 1: Location and geomorphological presentation of the site of Ounjougou. 1: Sandstones and scarps in sandstones ; 2 : Main terrace-glacis ; 3 : Eroded sectors of main glacis ; 4 : Holocene terrace (8th millennium BC) ; 5 : Secondary terrace-glacis ; 6 : Sands and silts of alluvial accumulation ; 7 : Hydrographic network and permanent lakes ; 8 : Stratigraphical limits ; 9 : Terraces and glacis edges ; 10 Track and relics of the colonial track; 11 : Height (metres) ; 12 : Archaeological sites ; 13 : Infiltration of Boumbangou through sandstones ; 14 : Palaeoriver of Yamé. affecting this period are now increasingly geared towards diachronic factors.

1980; Allsworth-Jones 1985; Allsworth-Jones 1986; Allsworth-Jones 1987; Chenorkian and Paradis 1982; Descamps 1981; Digara 1988; Marliac 1987; Marliac 1991; Raimbault 1991; Tillet 1997), subsequently very little Palaeolithic fieldwork has been done in West Africa (Hawkins et al. 1996; Ide 2000; Yodé Guédé 1995). The absence of fauna and of fossil hominids in the Pleistocene deposits in this part of Africa probably goes some way to explain this. One has to add the frequently unfavourable preservation conditions which affect Pleistocene sites in the region, and the absence of extended stratigraphies, which is particularly important since research problems

2. Context of the discoveries and Research objectives In this context, the discovery of Palaeolithic archaeological levels stratified in fine-grained sedimentary deposits, in places more than 10 metres thick, in the Dogon country of Mali on the Bandiagara plateau, offered a good opportunity to construct a reference sequence valid for the Palaeolithic of sub-Saharan West Africa as a whole (Huysecom et al. 1999). This Ordovician sandstone plateau includes deep

2

Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali) irregular hollows which in effect acted as localized traps for thick Pleistocene deposits, aeolian, colluvial, and alluvial.

largely truncated by erosion, either recently or in times past, and the material remains consisted solely of lithic industries, since - as usual in West Africa - no faunal remains were preserved. This means that it would be an illusion to try to reconstruct the function of these sites, or to speculate about the social and economic behaviour of the Palaeolithic groups who were present at Ounjougou.

The credit for the discovery of the first archaeological remains, Neolithic as it happens, goes to Marcel Burri, a geologist at the University of Geneva, who observed them in 1988. Originally the place of discovery was at a locality 15 km east of Bandiagara, but today the term “Ounjougou” refers to a vast complex of archaeological sites extending over practically 10 km2 (Figure 1).

The objective of the present article is therefore to provide a synthesis of our knowledge concerning the Pleistocene occupation of the Dogon country, as it appears as a result of our research, at Ounjougou on the Bandiagara plateau.

It was a brutal change in the course of the river Yamé in the mid 1930’s which revealed the extent and the archaeological potential of these deposits at Ounjougou. At that time the river abandoned a course which it had followed, with an accumulation of alluvial sediments, since the end of the proto-historic period, here dated to an interval between the seventh and thirteenth centuries AD (Rasse et al., 2006). Instead for 50 years it now dug down into its own previous deposits and by erosive action produced a complex system of ravines, which in turn have given us access to long stratigraphic sequences. The existence of these ravines along the path between Bandiagara and Sanga was indicated already by S. Daveau (1959) but their archaeological potential had not been perceived.

3. Thick Pleistocene deposits The Pleistocene deposits which have accumulated on the plateau have a double origin. The coarsest, sands and gravels, come from the disaggregation of the sandstone substratum. The most fine-grained component (silt) - which is clearly dominant - is of allochthonous aeolian origin, even if most of the material has been reworked many times by colluvial and alluvial processes. The principal characteristics of the formations, and the analysis of the contacts between the sedimentary units, allow for the reconstruction of the stratigraphy, in its broad lines (Figure 2). The nature and the geometry of the deposits are the result of two processes (Rasse et al. 2004). The successive aeolian inputs of silt on the plateau have been repeatedly redistributed by colluviation, resulting in a system of glacis (or piedmont slopes) which interlock very tightly. In the valley bottom the fine fraction has been eliminated, downstream, giving way to channels which have been progressively filled up with coarse material. The intercalation of the different formations is the result of the succession of different phases - accumulation and vertical incision - which in turn are clearly linked to hydrological variations in the river Yamé, which it underwent in the course of the Pleistocene.

After two exploratory missions in 1993-1994 and 1996 conducted by the MAESAO team from the Department of Anthropology and Ecology of the University of Geneva (Mission archéologique et ethnoarchéologique suisse en Afrique de l'Ouest), an international research project entitled “Palaeoenvironment and human population in West Africa” was launched in 1997 by Professor E. Huysecom. Today still this project brings together several teams to study the peopling of the Dogon country from the remote past to the present (Huysecom 2002; Huysecom et al. 2004; Ozainne et al. 2009). About a hundred archaeological sites or locations have been discovered covering the Palaeolithic to the historic period. This has provided the scientific framework within which our own research concerning the Palaeolithic has been conducted from 1999 to 2006 (Robert et al. 1999; Robert et al. 2003).

Stratigraphic analysis led to the creation of seven units, labelled U1 to U7 from the oldest to the most recent, very unevenly represented. The complexity of the geometry of the formations, in particular the difficulty of establishing long-range correlations and the absence of soil marker horizons, due to the intense leaching which the deposits have undergone, has complicated the construction of a chronostratigraphic sequence.

The geological and archaeological conditions at these sites are quite similar to those known from the Middle Palaeolithic in the loess plains of northern France: silty deposits of aeolian origin, reworked or not during rainy seasons, very extensive, and regularly cut through by Palaeolithic archaeological levels, where the density of material remains is nonetheless quite low (Tuffreau 2001). These conditions were clearly well suited to a chronostratigraphic and chronocultural approach. We therefore systematically combined in the field the study of the material remains themselves, their geomorphological context, and the dating by OSL of the actual sedimentary deposits (Rasse et al 2004). We gave preference to the diachronic aspect by seeking to find as many remains as possible in distinct stratigraphic positions, rather than trying to open up large areas of the archaeological levels thus located. In most cases the sites had in any case been

If the cumulative thickness of the deposits including each one of these units exceeds twenty metres, still the sedimentary record cannot be said to be continuous and these units are separated from each other by important hiatuses, reflecting in most cases stratigraphic discordances. Thus, U2 and U3 are separated from each other by an important sedimentary hiatus, marked first by the development of a soil horizon and then by significant erosion. Moreover, our knowledge (both archaeological and sedimentological) of these units is uneven, since the oldest (U1 and U2) outcrop only in the deepest ravines. Nonetheless, the Ounjougou sequence can be said to enjoy a high degree of resolution 3

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 2: Synthetic transects showing the relative location of the different units recognised for the Pleistocene. This figure also shows the location in the general stratigraphy of the sections sampled for OSL dating. A: schematic EastWest transect of the Oumounaama sector. B: schematic South-West/North-East transects of the Menié-Ménié and Kokolo-Orosobo sectors. (especially for U3-U6).

with the open air sequences known from the Weichselian in the north of France (Antoine et al. 2003) or the rock shelters and caves of the Périgord (Guibert et al. 2008; Mellars 1989), if one takes into account the fact that our record comes from a mere 10 km2.

4. A sequence with high resolution The systematic employment of OSL dates (more than 50) in close association with geomorphological analysis of the formations has allowed us to demonstrate that the sequence developed over a short period of time - from the end of OIS 5 to the middle of OIS 2 for the most part - but with a particularly abundant sedimentological and archaeological record for OIS 3; the preceding periods being represented in a very fragmentary fashion (Tribolo et al. in preparation). Units U3 to U5, which correspond entirely to OIS 3, are thus characterised by marked sedimentary accumulations separated by minor hiatuses. After 30,000 years ago, with units U6 and U7, sedimentation was more discontinuous and above all less developed.

Our work suggests also that for the part of the sequence attributed to OIS 3 there is a possible correlation between the sedimentary events identified at Ounjougou and palaeoclimatic phenomena detected on a global scale (Lespez et al. 2008). Thus, it seems that the sedimentary breaks observed in the Ounjougou sequence, between U3/ U4 and U4/U5, parallel the abrupt Heinrich events (H5 and H4) which are known to have occurred in OIS 3. Although we did not suspect this at the start, the resolution achieved for the continental deposits at Ounjougou in the course of OIS 3 therefore opens up interesting perspectives in which to discuss the dynamics of regional population movement in the Middle Palaeolithic, in the light of global climatic changes and their local expression.

For the whole of the upper Pleistocene sequence we have observed 25 stratigraphically distinct archaeological occurrences between 100,000 and 22,000 years ago, i.e., a mean of one occurrence every 3000 years (Figure 3). If this analysis is confined to the phase for which we have the most detailed and continuous record, within OIS 3 between 50,000 and 30,000 years ago, the corresponding figure would be one occurrence every 1,300 years. Certainly these occurrences are of unequal value, since there are levels marked by only a few isolated pieces as well as others which are much richer, but nonetheless each of them indicates the presence of human groups in the region. Such a high level of archaeo-stratigraphic resolution for the Middle Palaeolithic is unheard of in West Africa and is also impressive on a world scale. It can even be compared

6. Mineral resources abundant but monotonous Although raw materials suitable for knapping are very abundant on the Bandiagara plateau, they are not at all varied. All come from slabs of Precambrian fluvio-deltaic sandstone, including sandstone-conglomerate structures, which make up the plateau. In places, a material with finer granulometry and more marked diagenesis has given rise to sandstone outcrops which are harder and better cemented, so that they become practically quartzitic. This was one of the materials exploited by the Palaeolithic inhabitants. The others come from the sandstone-conglomerate structures.

4

Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali)

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Mostly these are quartz pebbles, but there are also pebbles of quartzite (less than 5%) and occasionally pebbles of other materials (flint, jasper, and other cryptocrystalline siliceous rocks). Among the materials which could be worked, therefore, there is a contrast between quartz and sandstone, in terms of spatial distribution, availability, and mechanical properties. Quartz pebbles are abundant and omnipresent, both in fluviatile deposits, and in altered products of the sandstone substratum. Their quality is variable, from very good to mediocre, depending on the texture of the material, which oscillates between fine and coarse grained. Quartzitic sandstone by contrast is found in isolated sites dispersed over the landscape where it appears in the form of thick banks. Consequently it allows for the

making of massive pieces either from chunks or large flakes. The quality of the material is sometimes very good, sufficient for the production of bifacial foliate artefacts. Apart from a few cases in the oldest archaeological levels, quartzitic sandstone was always collected at the primary outcrops. By contrast, with regard to the materials which had their origin in the sandstone-conglomerate structures, it should be observed that a significant proportion of these pebbles were collected at secondary sites, in fluviatile deposits of water courses which were active at the time of Palaeolithic occupation. On the basis of these two types of raw material, the Middle Palaeolithic inhabitants of Ounjougou made 5

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Raw mat. Quartz and quartzite cobbles

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blade

Ø

Figure 4: Diversity of raw material procurement and reduction sequences in some MSA industries from Ounjougou. +++: exclusive ; ++ : dominant ; + : minority ; Ø : absent. very different choices when deciding how to create their stone implements: exclusive use either of quartz/quartzite pebbles or of quartzitic sandstone, a combination of these two types of raw material, and collection at primary or secondary sources. Having regard to their relatively poor quality and diversity, raw materials do not seem to have played a decisive role in the systems of lithic production adopted by the knappers (Figure 4). Some groups actually persisted with technical choices which seem to have had little to do with the nature and quality of the raw material: e.g., Levallois technique on little quartz pebbles at Orosobo 2, or blade technique on sandstone at Oumounaama atelier. The diversity of lithic production systems bears witness to this as well.

suggests that these deposits underwent long periods of leaching in warm humid conditions, which is compatible with the cuirass or hardpan phenomena observed. Some sandstone artefacts from U1 do also show signs of chemical alteration in the form of whitened desilicified patches. We cannot objectively evaluate the lapse of time which separated U1 from U2 but it could be quite considerable since (apart from the rare sectors where U1 deposits are preserved) the bedrock has been totally denuded of its weathering products. A technical study of the polyhedrons (De Weyer 2008) has moreover shown that these objects are very similar to the ones from East Africa (Texier and Roche 1995) and the Maghreb (Sahnouni 1985). For these reasons, an age of at least 500 kyrs can certainly be envisaged for this polyhedron industry at Ounjougou.

6. Traces of the first Pleistocene population

While being easily visible archaeologically, the Acheulean up to now has not been found at Ounjougou. This could also confirm the existence of a profound hiatus between the oldest deposits with the polyhedron industry, and the first with industries attributed to the Middle Palaeolithic. On a regional scale, the Acheulean is however present over a vast area, including the river Niger to the north, without being contiguous. The area covered starts with Senegal in the east (Camara and Duboscq 1990; Descamps 1979), includes the Saharan zone with the south of Mauritania (Vernet 1983) the north of Mali (Diop 1972; Gaussen and Gaussen 1995; Raimbault 1991) and Niger (Tillet 1983; Vernet 1996), to finish in Nigeria (Soper 1965). More recently some bifaces have been discovered in Burkina, in the Markoye sector at least 200 km south of Gao (Millogo, communication to the 11th Pan-African Prehistoric Congress, Bamako 2001). The Acheulean, absent at Ounjougou, was nonetheless identified a long time ago on the surface of a rock shelter near Hombori, to the northeast of our study area (Armand 1937).

The oldest traces of human occupation on the Bandiagara plateau appear at Ounjougou in the form of a lithic industry characterised by polyhedrons, sub-spheroids and spheroids in quartzitic sandstone, associated with worked pebbles (Figure 5). These objects, which recall an early phase of the Palaeolithic in terms of typology and technique (De Weyer 2008), have been observed in situ, sealed in packets of hardened coarse sand adhering to bedrock in the MéniéMénié, in the Ravin sud and at Dandoli Ouest. At the first of these locations, the ferruginous packet (which was not very thick) was covered by sandy-silty gravels of different component sizes, much indurated if not cemented: together these form sedimentary unit U1, the oldest at Ounjougou. No attempt has been made to obtain an OSL date for these coarse deposits. A final Middle Pleistocene date, about 150 kyrs, obtained on deposits attributed to U2 in a sondage of the Ménié-Ménié, can be taken as a terminus ante quem for this industry. A further chronological indication is provided by the chemical state of alteration of the bedrock at the contact with U1 - a typical arenaceous product - which 6

Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali)

Figure 5: Polyhedron in sandstone recovered in a derived stratigraphic position in U2 deposits from La Confluence site. Other polyhedrons were observed in primary older deposits (U1).

Figure 6: Levallois core with preferential removal. This is the oldest evidence for Middle Palaeolithic settlement at Ounjougou (Ménié-Ménié S1).

consists of some flakes in secondary position in a layer of coarse sand in a sondage at Ménié-Ménié (S2). One must nonetheless note that the formations of this age (the base of U2) are not widely preserved and do not appear except very locally, upstream in the deepest ravines. Our windows of observation are therefore much narrower than for the upper Pleistocene, and our vision of the occupations which took place at this time is correspondingly biased.

7. A plateau traversed by the people of the Middle Palaeolithic Apart from the assemblage with polyhedrons, which signifies an ancient human occupation on the Bandiagara plateau, all the other industries found in a Pleistocene context at Ounjougou belong chronologically to the Middle Palaeolithic. A particularly typical Levallois core with preferential removal (Figure 6) found in isolation at Ménié-Ménié (S1) provides the first evidence for the Middle Palaeolithic at Ounjougou. OSL dating evidence suggests that it belongs to the late Middle Pleistocene (OIS 6?). The occupation of the plateau during this early phase of the Middle Palaeolithic seems to have been very slight, since (apart from the first find mentioned above) the only evidence which we can formally attribute to this period

Middle Palaeolithic occupations become more numerous in the upper Pleistocene with a particular concentration in isotopic stage 3 (Figure 3). But it is also at this time that the rhythm of sedimentary accumulation is at its highest, with a correspondingly increased possibility to single out discrete archaeological events.

7

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives 7.1. Open air occupations

operation sequence (chaîne opératoire). The exceptions to this rule show that we are in the presence of sites the function and functioning of which could be different. Thus, at the site of Oumounaama atelier “amas” 1996, refittings have confirmed that the by-products of blade production (preparation flakes, exhausted cores, blade fragments) were abandoned on site, while certain of the end-products were exported to be used faraway (Figure 8). The lower layer (C.2) of Ravin de la Vipère provides another example. The very rare refittings achieved in a mass of more than 350 pieces of quartzitic sandstone almost all relate to broken flakes, and no debitage sequence of more than two flakes could be reconstituted. This suggests that what we have here is not a single set of knapping debris in place, but a mass of disparate waste flakes coming from the working of several cores.

All the occupations known for the Middle Palaeolithic of Ounjougou are open air, and in the majority of cases the lithics have been preserved in primary position or only slightly displaced in silty colluvial sediments. In spite of the disappearance of all traces of fauna, the state of conservation can be very good. Thus, 57.7% of the concentration of lithics excavated at Orosobo 2 (n=1378) consisted of pieces less than 10 mm in size, although no sieving was carried out at the time of excavation. This example shows that the burial of objects in these finegrained deposits could be very gentle and operate in such a way as not to deform them qualitatively. The presence of knapping debris permitting extensive refitting at Ravin de la Vipère 3 (Figure 7) is another illustration of good site preservation. Certain assemblages (Oumounaama Px, Oumounaama Butte) were nonetheless recovered in a secondary position in coarse channel deposits. The lithics, smoothed or rolled, show clear traces of transport.

Finally, one should note that in almost all cases retouched tools are rare or even totally absent at Ounjougou, which is also a repeated characteristic of open air sites in the Middle Palaeolithic of Europe (Tuffreau 2001). This characteristic may be exacerbated by the nature of the raw materials (quartz and sandstone) which do not lend themselves easily to retouch (Mourre 1996).

The sites with artefacts in primary position also vary a great deal in respect of the density of material recovered, from several hundred to less than one piece per square

7.2. A marked diversity of technical traditions The diversity of the Middle Palaeolithic industries is very important in the sequence at Ounjougou (Figure 3), since it developed over a relatively short period of time, and the raw materials utilised (quartz, quartzitic sandstone) acted as a constraint in terms of their quality. Most of the lithic industries find their place without difficulty in the Middle Palaeolithic, and most of the usual debitage patterns are represented: Levallois, discoidal, unidirectional, blade (Figures 8 and 9). Even, the bifacial foliate pieces (Figure 10: 1-5) which are found at various places in the sequence (Figure 3) are a frequent element in the African Middle Palaeolithic/Middle Stone Age (Clark 1988; McBrearty and Brooks 2000). Leaving aside these bifacial points and the raw materials employed, most of the industries at Ounjougou are quite similar to the Middle Palaeolithic of Western Europe (Bordes 1992; Jaubert 1999; Otte 1996). The industry of Kokolo 2, made on pebbles of quartz or quartzite, has certain typological and technological characteristics which bring it closer to an archaic Palaeolithic (Figure 9: 10-13) (Soriano 2003), although it is undoubtedly dated to the upper Pleistocene. Other industries seem to be quite original, like Dandoli 1/3 with a debitage technique exclusively employing bipolar on anvil percussion (Figure 9: 3-5) (Soriano et al. in press). Some massive tools which can be described as heavy scrapers (rabots) (Figure 10:6) are known at Ounjougou (Dandoli 2) in a stratigraphic position similar to that of the pieces showing bipolar on anvil reduction just described, but they have never been found in direct association, except on the surface. It is the recent excavation of a little rock shelter in our second study area (70 km south of Ounjougou, along the northern cliff face of the plateau) which has confirmed that these heavy scrapers and a bipolar on anvil technique

Figure 7: Refitting of flakes extracted from a quartz pebble. The flakes were collected in a small knapping scatter from the upper level (C.1) of Ravin de la Vipère 3 (Photo S. Soriano). metre. These variations agree well with what is commonly observed in open air site complexes of this period in Europe (Tuffreau 2001). As in that case, certain very poor archaeological levels at Ounjougou correspond more to archaeological “background noise” or “background scatter” than to true sites occupying a definite time and space locus (or “patch”) (Conard et al. 1998; Roebroeks et al. 1992). In the majority of sites where the remains are in primary position, the lithic assemblage contains all stages of the

8

Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali)

Figure 8: Oumounaama atelier site: refitting of a blade (n°90) and many flakes coming from platform rejuvenation on a sandstone blade core. Missing blades were probably exported for a faraway use (Photo S. Soriano).

Figure 9: MSA debitage products from Ounjougou: (1, 2 and 6) Flakes from discoid reduction, sandstone, Ravin de la Vipère lower level (U3); (3-5) products from bipolar on anvil reduction, quartz, Dandoli 1/3 (U5); (7, 8) Levallois cores, quartz, Orosobo 2 (U5); (10, 12) chopper-like cores, (11) chopping-tool like core and (9, 13) centripetal cores, quartz, Kokolo 2 (U2).

9

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 10: MSA shaping products from Ounjougou: (1, 2) Bifacial foliate points, sandstone, Kokolo 3 (U5); (3) Fragment of bifacial piece, quartz, Ravin des Draperies (U6, same level as Oumounaama Butte); (4, 5) Fragments of bifacial foliate pieces, sandstone, Oumounaama Px (U5); (6) Heavy scraper, sandstone, Kokolo 1 (U5, same level as Dandoli 2). do in fact belong to the same industry (Huysecom et al. in press; Tribolo et al. in press). Bifacial foliate pieces have been found at various stratigraphic levels (Figure 3). In several cases, these pieces have been collected in secondary position in fluviatile gravels (Oumounaama Px, Oumounaama butte) (Figure 10: 3-5) and no particular debitage technique can be associated with them. The Kokolo 3 level is in colluvial sediments, but the lithic assemblage is too small to determine what debitage technique was employed to make the flakes associated with the bifacial points (Figure 3). Only the site of Ravin du Kondo (which is currently under study) should allow us to clarify the nature of the industries with bifacial foliate points at Ounjougou.

level quartz was also employed, but in connection with another type of debitage the nature of which has yet to be determined (Figure 3). 7.3. Ounjougou and the peopling of the West African Sahel in the upper Pleistocene The diversity of the lithic industries encountered in the stratigraphy at Ounjougou and their succession without any evident logic raises questions on the dynamics of the way in which the West African Sahel was peopled during the upper Pleistocene. More than the diversity, it is the rhythm of change which is very high, since, it must be remembered, the majority of the occupations took place in the course of OIS 3, a span of 30 millennia. A rhythm of change in technical traditions comparable to this, higher even, has been recognised in the Near East for the Middle Palaeolithic at the open air site of Umm el Tlel (central Syria) in an arid steppe environment (Boëda et al. 1998; Boëda and Muhesen 1993). The succession observed at Ounjougou first of all allows us to exclude the idea of a gradual local evolution in technical traditions during this period. It suggests rather that human groups with different technical traditions succeeded each other repeatedly in this region.

Perhaps more than the diversity of the lithic industries, it is the absence of technological repetition in their chronological succession which deserves to be emphasised. One almost never finds two successive occupations which contain exactly the same lithic industry. Even at the Ravin de la Vipère, where the two successive archaeological levels (lower and upper) are characterised by a discoidal technique, there are still differences. In fact, the discoidal debitage was here achieved on quartz in the upper level and on quartzitic sandstone in the lower level. In this 10

Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali) This situation is the direct opposite of that which is observed more to the north, beyond latitude 19° N, between 80 and 30 thousand years ago, when the Aterian is the only techno-cultural entity recognized (Cremaschi et al. 1998; Garcea 2004; Martini et al. 1998; Mercier et al. 2007; Roset and Harbi-Riahi 2007; Tillet 1997; Wrinn and Rink 2003). Even if the Aterian is not as monolithic as it appears, with probably geographical and/or chronological facies, all the industries which belong to it have in common a suite of technical practices (such as tanged pieces, Levallois debitage, etc.). This opposition between the sequence at Ounjougou, where each occupation differs from the preceding one in terms of technical traditions, and the Aterian, where the same technical practices were followed for a long time, suggests that there was a frontier separating these two worlds; a frontier which is moreover emphasized by the very abrupt southern limit of the Aterian’s distribution (Tillet 1995).

Tibchi, and Zenabi (Allsworth-Jones 1980; AllsworthJones 1985; Allsworth-Jones 1986; Allsworth-Jones 1987), in Cameroun in the so-called “Douroumian” formations at Mayo Louti (Marliac 1973; Marliac 1987; Marliac 1991), and at Birimi in Ghana where Levallois debitage is associated with discoid cores and bifacial points (Hawkins et al. 1996). At Ounjougou by contrast the Levallois technique is far from being the most frequent in the Middle Palaeolithic industries here represented. 8. By way of conclusion In many respects, the Ounjougou sequence from now on constitutes a reference point for the Middle Palaeolithic in sub-Saharan West Africa. Its stratigraphic completeness and above all its chronological resolution, at least, have no equivalent. The Ounjougou sequence demonstrates first of all that when the geomorphological conditions permit the conservation of upper Pleistocene deposits (and to a lesser extent those of the late Middle Pleistocene), Palaeolithic occupations are also preserved. Research which we have carried out in 2005-2009 in a second sector, along the southern cliff face of the plateau, where the sedimentary context is different, have confirmed this (Rasse et al. in preparation). The results of our research at Ounjougou also show that the continental sequences in this region can provide evidence of subtle but distinct variations in regional hydrosystems which are a response to abrupt global climatic phenomena (Heinrich events) (Lespez et al. 2008).

The systematic and rapid renewal of the Sahelian population which is in evidence at Ounjougou, at least during OIS 3, is intriguing. What could cause it, whereas more to the north with the Aterian, continuity is the rule? For the moment, this question remains open. 7.4. Beyond Ounjougou West Africa does not lack sites attributed to the Middle Palaeolithic or the Middle Stone Age (Allsworth-Jones 1987; Clark 1967; Davies 1967) but their chronology is nonexistent or insufficient. Before the development of such methods as TL, OSL, ESR and U/Th, radiocarbon dating alone was used, and the validity of dates obtained for occupations which could easily exceed the limits of this method is no more than relative. Among the rare sites with radiocarbon dates, we should mention Mayo Louti (Cameroun). Two dates on charcoal coming from a sand horizon above the archaeological layer provide a terminus ante quem of about 15,000 BP for this industry, described as MSA (Marliac 1973; Marliac and Gavaud 1975). The situation is comparable at Bilma (Niger). The radiocarbon date for material in lacustrine limestone of around 33,000 BP also acts as a terminus ante quem for the Middle Palaeolithic industry with Levallois debitage at this location (Maley et al. 1971). Only the site of Birimi (Ghana) has a stratified industry attributed to the MSA which has recently been dated by OSL to about 40,000 years ago (Casey et al. 1997; Hawkins et al. 1996; Quickert et al. 2003). Certain site complexes, rich as they are, as in the valley of the Mékrou in SW Niger, are very difficult to evaluate in the absence of a chronostratigraphical framework (Ide 2000; Vernet 1994). This chronological weakness is a considerable limitation when seeking to compare the Middle Palaeolithic of Ounjougou with other occurrences already known.

Ounjougou demonstrates moreover that sub-Saharan West Africa, or at least certain regions within it, witnessed during the upper Pleistocene a Palaeolithic occupation as dense as in other parts of the continent. The diversity of technical traditions represented by the lithic industries at Ounjougou and above all the rapid rhythm of change suggest that the Sahel did experience regular population movements at this time, the causes of which remain to be determined. There is a striking contrast with North Africa and the Sahara, where the Aterian is ubiquitous between 80 and 30,000 years ago. Acknowledgements The French Palaeolithic archaeological mission at Ounjougou, under the direction of S.S., has been supported financially since 2003 by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It is part of an international research programme entitled “Palaeoenvironment and Human Population in West Africa” coordinated by E.H. and financed by the SLSA (Swiss-Liechtenstein Foundation for Archaeological Research Abroad), the FNRS (Fonds National Suisse de la Recherche Scientifique), and the State of Geneva. This programme also received help in 2004 from the FrancoSwiss PAI (Programme d'action intégré) Germaine de Staël. The OSL dating programme was carried out by C.T. thanks to a Marie Curie European scholarship award (MEIFCT-2003-501195). It also formed part of an EFCHED

We can nonetheless note that in West Africa it is Middle Palaeolithic/MSA industries with Levallois debitage which are the most frequently recorded. They are known for example in Nigeria, in the Nok region, at Mai Lumba, 11

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives programme of the Natural Environment Research Council (NERC) (UK). Research on the palaeolithic of Ounjougou further benefitted from financial support under the terms of the CNRS programme ATIP (Action thématique et incitative sur programme) granted to S.S. in 2006/2007.

Syrie) : étude préliminaire des industries lithiques du Paléolithique moyen et supérieur 1991-1992. Cahiers de l'Euphrate 7, 47-91. Bordes, F. 1992. Leçons sur le Paléolithique, tome II. Ed. Presses du CNRS. Bouzouggar, A., Barton, N., Vanhaeren, M., D’errico, F., Collcutt, S., Higham, T., Edward, H., Parfitt, S., Rhodes, E., Schwenninger, J.-L., Stringer, C., Turner, E., Ward, S., Moutmir, A. and Stambouli, A. 2007. 82,000-year-old shell beads from North Africa and implications for the origins of modern human behavior. PNAS 104, 9964-9969. Camara, A. and Duboscq, B. 1990. La fouille d'un site acheuléen à Djita (basse vallée de la Falémé, Sénégal). L'Anthropologie 94, 293-304. Casey, J. L., Sawatzky, R., Godfrey-Smith, D. I., Quickert, N., D'Andrea, A. C., Wollstonecroft, M. and Hawkins, A. 1997. Report of investigations at the Birimi Site in Northern Ghana. Nyame Akuma 48, 32-38. Chenorkian, R. and Paradis, G. 1982. Une industrie paléolithique découverte dans la « Terre de Barre » d’une terrasse proche d’Anyama (région d’Abidjan). Nyame Akuma 21, 18-27. Clark, J. D. (ed.) 1967. Atlas of African Prehistory. Chicago, University of Chicago Press. Clark, J. D. 1988. The Middle Stone Age of East Africa and the beginnings of regional identity. Journal of World Prehistory 2, 235-305. Conard, N. J., Prindiville, T. J. and Adler, D. S. 1998. Refitting Bones and Stones as a Means of Reconstructing Middle Paleolithic Subsistence in the Rhineland. In J.-P. Brugal, L. Meignen and M. Patou-Mathis (eds.), Économie préhistorique : les comportements de subsistance au Paléolithique, 273290. Sophia Antipolis, Éd. APDCA. Cremaschi, M., Di Lernia, S. and Garcea, E. A. A. 1998. Some insights on the Aterian in the Libyan Sahara : chronology, environment and archaeology. African Archaeological Review 15, 261-286. Daveau, S. 1959. Recherches morphologiques sur la région de Bandiagara. Dakar, I.F.A.N. Davies, O. 1967. West Africa before the Europeans: archaeology and prehistory. London, Methuen. De Weyer, L. 2008. Étude technologique de l’industrie lithique du Ménié-Ménié, Ounjougou, Mali. Mémoire de Master 1, Université Paris X - Nanterre. Descamps, C. 1979. Contribution à la préhistoire de l'Ouest sénégalais. Dakar, Faculté des lettres de l'Université de Dakar. Descamps, C. 1981. État des connaissances sur le Paléolithique au Sénégal. Bulletin de l’ASEQUA 6263, 67-73. Digara, C. 1988. Le paléolithique au Cameroun septentrional : Prospection et étude technologique d'ensembles lithiques. Thèse de 3ème cycle, Université Paris X Nanterre. Diop, A. 1972. Lagreich: une station acheuléenne de la vallée du Tilemsi (Mali). Université de Bordeaux. Garcea, E. A. A. (ed.) 2001. Uan Tabu in the settlement history of the Libyan Sahara. Firenze, Edizioni

We would like to thank our Malian partners for their collaboration: Kléna Sanogo (ISH), Doulaye Konaté (Univ. Bamako, FLASH), Lassana Cissé (Mission culturelle de Bandiagara), as well as the villagers of Dimbal, Gologou, Kokolo, Dandoli, Songona and Yawa who participated in our fieldwork. We are grateful to Philip Allsworth-Jones for translation of this paper.

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Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali) Dispersal. Science 332, 733-735. Jaubert, J. 1999. Chasseurs et artisans du Moustérien. Paris, Ed. La maison des roches. Lespez, L., Rasse, M., Le Drezen, Y., Tribolo, C., Huysecom, E. and Ballouche, A. 2008. L'évolution hydromorphologique de la vallée du Yamé (pays Dogon, mali) : signal climatique et hydrosystème continental en Afrique de l'Ouest entre 50 et 4 ka cal. BP. Géomorphologie: relief, processus, environnement 3, 170-185. Maley, J., Roset, J.-P. and Servant, M. 1971. Nouveaux gisements préhistoriques au Niger oriental; localisation stratigraphique. Bulletin de liaison - ASEQUA 31, 9-18. Marliac, A. 1973. Prospection archéologique au Cameroun. Cahiers de l'ORSTOM, série sciences humaines 10, 47-114. Marliac, A. 1987. Introduction au Paléolithique du Cameroun septentrional. L’Anthropologie 91, 521558. Marliac, A. 1991. De la préhistoire à l'histoire au Cameroun septentrional. Paris, Éditions ORSTOM. Marliac, A. and Gavaud, M. 1975. Premiers éléments d'une séquence paléolithique au Cameroun septentrional. Bulletin de l'ASEQUA 46, 53-66. Martini, M., Sibilia, E., Zelaschi, C., Troja, S. O., Forzese, R., Gueli, A.-M., Cro, A. and Foti, F. 1998. TL and OSL dating of fossil dune sand in the Uan Afuda and Uan Tabu rockshelters, Tadrart Acacus (Libyan Sahara). In M. Cremaschi and S. Di Lernia, Eds. (eds.), Wadi Teshuinat - Palaeoenvironment and Prehistory in south-western Fezzan (Libyan Sahara). Survey and excavations in the Tadrart Acacus, Erg Uan Kasa, Messak Settafet and Edeyen of Murzuq, 1990-1995, 67-72. Firenze, Edizioni All'Insegna del Giglio. McBrearty, S. and Brooks, A. 2000. The revolution that wasn't: a new interpretation of the origin of modern human behavior. Journal of Human Evolution 39, 453563. Mellars, P. 1989. Chronologie du Moustérien du Sud-Ouest de la France : actualisation du débat. L'Anthropologie (Paris) 93, 53-72. Mercier, N., Wengler, L., Valladas, H., Joron, J.-L., Froget, L. and Reyss, J.-L. 2007. The Rhafas Cave (Morocco): Chronology of the Mousterian and Aterian archaeological occupations and their implications for quaternary geochronology based on luminescence (TL/ OSL) age determinations. Quaternary Geochronology 2, 309-313. Mourre, V. 1996. Les industries en quartz au Paléolithique. Terminologie, méthodologie et technologie. Paléo 8, 205-224. Otte, M. 1996. Le paléolithique inférieur et moyen en Europe. Ed. Armand Colin. Ozainne, S., Huysecom, E., Mayor, A., Robion-Brunner, C. and Soriano, S. (2009) Une chronologie pour le peuplement et le climat du pays dogon : la séquence culturelle et environnementale du gisement d'Ounjougou (Mali). Antropo 18, 37-46.

All'Insegna del Giglio. Garcea, E. A. A. 2004. Crossing Deserts and Avoiding Seas: Aterian North African-European Relations. Journal of Anthropological Research 60, 27-53. Gaussen, J. and Gaussen, M. 1995. Station acheuléenne dans l'Oued Irrarar (Adrar des Iforas - République du Mali). Les Eyzies-de-Tayac, Société des Amis du Musée National de Préhistoire et de la Recherche Archéologique. Guibert, P., Bechtel, F., Bourguignon, L., Brenet, M., Couchoud, I., Delagnes, A., Delpech, F., Detrain, L., Duttine, M., Folgado, M., Jaubert, J., Lahaye, C., Lenoir, M., Maureille, B., Texier, J.-P., Turq, A., Vieillevigne, E. and Villeneuve, G. 2008. Une base de données pour la chronologie du Paléolithique moyen dans le SudOuest de la France. In J. Jaubert, J.-G. Bordes and I. Ortega (eds.), Les sociétés du paléolithique dans un Grand Sud-Ouest de la France : nouveaux gisements, nouveaux résultats, nouvelles méthodes, 19-40. Paris, Société préhistorique française. Hawkins, A., Casey, J. L., Godfrey-Smith, D. and D'Andrea, A. C. 1996. A Middle Stone Age component at the Birimi Site, northern region, Ghana. Nyame Akuma 46, 34-36. Huysecom, E. 2002. Palaeoenvironment and human population in West Africa: an international research project in Mali. Antiquity 76, 335-336. Huysecom, E., Mayor, A., Ozainne, S., Robion-Brunner, C., Ballouche, A., Cissé, L., Eichhorn, B., Garnier, A., Le Drezen, Y., Lespez, L., Loukou, S., Rasse, M., Sanogo, K., Serneels, V., Soriano, S., Soulignac, R., Taibi, N. and Tribolo, C. in press. Le Pays dogon et son passé : apports de la douzième année de recherches du programme « Peuplement humain et évolution paléoclimatique en Afrique de l'Ouest ». Jahresbericht 2009. Zürich et Vaduz, Fondation Suisse-Liechtenstein pour les recherches archéologiques à l’étranger. Huysecom, E., Ozainne, S., Cissé, L., Doutrelepont, H., Gallay, A., Konaté, D., Mayor, A., Raeli, F., Robert, A., Sanogo, K., Soriano, S., Sow, O. and Stokes, S. 2004. Du Paléolithique ancien à nos jours : la séquence archéologique et paléoenvironnementale du gisement d'Ounjougou (Pays Dogon, Mali). In K. Sanogo and T. Togola (eds.), Actes du XXIe Congrès de l'Association Panafricaine de Préhistoire et disciplines assimilées, 289-327. Bamako, ISH. Huysecom, H., Beeckman, H., Boëda, E., Doutrelepont, H., Fedoroff, N., Mayor, A., Raeli, F., Robert, A. and Soriano, S. 1999. Paléoenvironnement et peuplement humain en Afrique de l'Ouest. Rapport de la seconde mission de recherche (1998-1999) sur le gisement d'Ounjougou (Mali). Jahresbericht 1998, 153-204. Zurich, Vaduz, FSLA. Ide, O. A. 2000. Préhistoire dans la vallée de la Mekrou (Niger méridional). Nouakchott, CRIAA. Jacobs, Z., Roberts, R. G., Galbraith, R. F., Deacon, H. J., Grün, R., Mackay, A., Mitchell, P., Vogelsang, R. and Wadley, L. 2008. Ages for the Middle Stone Age of Southern Africa: Implications for Human Behavior and

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Quickert, N. A., Godfrey-Smith, D. I. and Casey, J. L. 2003. Optical and thermoluminescence dating of Middle Stone Age and Kintampo bearing sediments at Birimi, a multi-component archaeological site in Ghana. Quaternary Science Reviews 22, 1291-1297. Raimbault, M. 1991. Les recherches récentes du C.N.R.S. dans le Sahara malien (1980-1985). In M. Raimbault and K. Sanogo (eds.), Recherches archéologiques au Mali. Prospections et inventaire, fouilles et études analytiques en zone lacustre, 121-140. Paris, Ed. Karthala et acct. Rasse, M., Ballouche, A., Huysecom, E., Tribolo, C., Ozainne, S., Le Drezen, Y., Stokes, S. and Neumann, K. 2006. Évolution géomorphologique, enregistrements sédimentaires et dynamiques paléoenvironnementales holocènes à Ounjougou (Plateau dogon, Mali, Afrique de l'Ouest). Quaternaire 17, 61-74. Rasse, M., Soriano, S., Tribolo, C., Stokes, S. and Huysecom, E. 2004. La séquence pléistocène supérieur d'Ounjougou (Pays Dogon, Mali, Afrique de l'Ouest) : évolution géomorphologique, enregistrements sédimentaires et changements culturels. Quaternaire 15, 329-341. Robert, A., Soriano, S., Fedoroff, N. and Huysecom, E. 1999. Evolution paléoclimatique et peuplement humain en Afrique de l'Ouest. Le site d'Ounjougou (Mali) au Paléolithique. In L. Roost Vischer, A. Mayor and D. Henrischen, Eds. (eds.), Passages et frontières, Le forum suisse des africanistes 2, 203-223. Münster, Hamburg, London, LIT Verlag. Robert, A., Soriano, S., Rasse, M., Stokes, S. and Huysecom, E. 2003. First chrono-cultural reference framework for the West African Palaeolithic: new data from Ounjougou (Dogon Country, Mali). Journal of African Archaeology 1, 151-169. Roebroeks, W., De Loecker, D., Hennekens, P. and Van Ieperen, M. 1992. "A veil of stone": on the interpretation of an Early Middle Palaeolithic density scatter at Maastricht-Belvédère (The Netherlands). Analecta Praehistorica Leidensia 25, 1-16. Roset, J.-P. and Harbi-Riahi, M. 2007. El Akarit. Un site archéologique du paléolithique moyen dans le sud de la Tunisie. Paris, Editions Recherche sur les Civilisations. Sahnouni, M. 1985. L'industrie sur galets du gisement villafranchien supérieur de l'Aïn Hanech (Sétif, Algérie Orientale). Thèse de doctorat, Muséum d'Histoire naturelle. Soper, R. C. 1965. The Stone Age in Northern Nigeria. Journal of the Historical Society of Nigeria 3, 175194. Soriano, S. 2003. Quand archaïque n'est pas ancien! Étude de cas dans le Paléolithique du Pays dogon (Ounjougou, Mali). Annales de la Fondation Fyssen 18, 79-92.

Soriano, S., Robert, A. and Huysecom, E. in press. Percussion bipolaire sur enclume : choix ou contrainte ? Exemples dans le Paléolithique d'Ounjougou (pays dogon, Mali). In V. Mourre and M. Jarry (eds.), Entre le marteau et l'enclume... . Les Eyzies, S.A.M.R.A. Texier, P.-J. and Roche, H. 1995. Polyèdre, sphéroïde et bola: des segments plus ou moins longs d'une même chaîne opératoire. Cahier Noir 7, 31-40. Tillet, T. 1983. Le Paléolithique du bassin tchadien septentrional (Niger-Tchad). Paris, Ed. CNRS. Tillet, T. 1995. Recherches sur l'Atérien du Sahara méridional (Bassins tchadien et de Taoudenni) : position chrono-stratigraphique, définition et étude comparative. In R. Chenorkian (ed.) L'Homme méditerranéen. Mélanges offerts à Gabriel Camps, 2956. Aix-en-Provence, Publications de l'Université de Provence, LAPMO. Tillet, T. (ed.) 1997. Sahara. Paléomilieux et peuplement préhistorique au Pléistocène supérieur. Paris, L'Harmattan. Tribolo, C., Mercier, N., Rasse, M., Soriano, S. and E. Huysecom. in press. Kobo 1 and L’Abri-auxVaches (Mali, West Africa): two case studies for the optical dating of bioturbated sediments. Quaternary Geochronology. Tribolo, C., Mercier, N. and Valladas, H. 2005. Chronologie des technofaciès Howieson's Poort et Still Bay (Middle Stone Age, Afrique du Sud): bilan et nouvelles données de la luminescence. Bulletin de la Société Préhistorique Française 102, 855-866. Tuffreau, A. 2001. Contextes et modalités des occupations humaines au Paléolithique moyen dans la France septentrionale. In N. Conard (ed.) Settlement Dynamics of the Middle Paleolithic and Middle Stone Age, 293314. Tübingen, Kerns Verlag. Vernet, R. 1983. La Préhistoire de la Mauritanie. État de la question. Thèse de Doctorat d'Etat, Université de Paris I - Panthéon-Sorbonne. Vernet, R. 1994. La préhistoire de la vallée de Mekrou (Niger méridional). Bulletin de la Société Préhistorique Française 91, 200-208. Vernet, R. 1996. Le Sud-Ouest du Niger de la Préhistoire au début de l'Histoire. Niamey, Paris, IRSH, Sépia. Wrinn, P. J. and Rink, W. J. 2003. ESR Dating of Tooth Enamel From Aterian Levels at Mugharet el ‘Aliya (Tangier, Morocco). Journal of Archaeological Science 30, 123-133. Yodé Guédé, F. 1995. Contribution à l'étude du Paléolithique de la Côte d'Ivoire : état des connaissances. Journal des africanistes 65, 79 - 91.

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Middle Stone Age Sangoan-Lupemban Lithic Assemblages of Africa Dr Laura Basell

Palaeoenvironmental Laboratory University of Southampton (PLUS), School of Geography, University of Southampton, Highfield. Southampton. SO17 1BJ. [email protected]

Abstract This paper provides a commentary on Middle Stone Age terminology and an overview of key stratified and/or dated SangoanLupemban lithic assemblages of Africa. It considers the role and future potential of some important sites in western and central Africa which have been referred to as Sangoan-Lupemban, but have not been re-investigated despite advances in archaeological excavation and survey techniques, geochronology, geomorphology and soil science. These techniques when used in combination would allow a reinterpretation of many of these sites.

Key words: MSA, Sangoan, Lupemban, lithics, geochronology, re-investigation

Introduction

1955; Cahen 1978; McBrearty 1986; 1988; Mabulla 1996; Masao 1992; Clark 1982; Braüer 1984; Klein 1970; Allsworth-Jones 1993), but an overview is important. The term “Middle Stone Age” was formalised by Goodwin in 1929 as an addition to the “Early” and “Late” Stone Ages (ESA and LSA), and was defined primarily on the basis of the archaeology in southern Africa (Goodwin and van Riet Lowe 1929; Klein 1970; Allsworth-Jones 1993). These divisions were seen as stages, one evolving into the next. The system was intended to differentiate the African and Indian archaeological (lithic) records from that of Europe.

In recent years debate surrounding the Middle Stone Age (MSA) of Africa has increased, partly due to rapid developments in genetics during the 1970s and 80s, some of which have suggested an African origin for Homo sapiens (Stoneking and Cann 1989; Cann et al. 1993; Watson et al. 1997; Kittles and Keita 1999; Tishkoff et al. 1998; Satta and Takahata 2002; Eswaran et al. 2005; Templeton 2002). Of equal importance however, is the application of improved geochronological dating techniques applied to known sites and the discovery of new sites, some of which have yielded hominin remains, e.g. Herto (White et al. 2003). These developments and discoveries have led many researchers to believe that the Middle Stone Age is associated with the appearance of some of the earliest members of our species: Homo sapiens.

Although the tripartite system was widely adopted in southern Africa by van Riet Lowe, interestingly Louis Leakey never used it for the archaeology of eastern Africa, preferring more specific regional terms (Mabulla 1996; Masao 1992). Despite this, its usage has spread throughout sub-Saharan Africa, though the precise meaning of the terms ESA/MSA/LSA remains unclear. Prior to the advent of chronometric dating, lithics and associated artefacts were frequently attributed to the ESA/MSA/LSA purely on typological and technological grounds, a practice that continues today; and because these stages are often seen to represent gradual unidirectional evolution, they act as broad chronological descriptors, even when the age of the material is not known (see comments in McBrearty and Brooks 2000; Mitchell 2002; McBrearty 1986; 1988; Merrick 1975).

It is unsurprising then, that since the 1990s there has been a revival of interest in those lithics associated with the Early Stone Age (ESA) to MSA transition. This is the case in eastern, southern and northern Africa. In central and western Africa there has been far less interest in reinvestigating known sites of this antiquity or in conducting new surveys, with a few notable exceptions such as Birimi (Quickert et al. 2003; Hawkins et al. 1996) and Ounjougou (Soriano et al., this volume). This paper will review the term Middle Stone Age, present an overview of the current state of knowledge regarding key sites referred to as “Sangoan” and “Lupemban”, and summarise the role that western Africa could play in these debates regarding our understanding of the earliest members of our species. It is important to emphasise from the outset, that the appearance of Homo sapiens need not preclude the existence of other species or sub-species, who might also have produced MSA artefacts.

At a very general level then, the MSA may be defined on techno-typological grounds as the term that covers postAcheulean and pre-LSA lithic assemblages. For many researchers, this means that an MSA assemblage is one that does not contain Acheulean bifaces (although it may contain other bifaces), nor microlithic technology (although there are so-called “precocious” MSA industries containing such lithics). It marks a period of significant diversification in lithic reduction techniques and the range of lithic forms created. Some of the most emphasised aspects are the use of Levallois technique and the manufacture of a wide range of

The Middle Stone Age: Terminology The MSA is a widely used term, and has a complicated history, which has been discussed at length (see Malan

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives points. Beyond this however, the tripartite categorisation is too simplistic to provide more than an ill-defined shorthand for the archaeological record covering wide temporal and spatial spans. As Mehlman (1991) writes, “...our three-age system is largely illusory; the product of a small sample of occurrences, widely separated in time, giving us the false impression of three plateau stages.”

MSA and often fall at the extremes of the MSA temporal range have inevitably led to the revival of the concept of Intermediates. Another recent trend, in keeping with the recommendations outlined in Bishop and Clark (1967), has been the development of Goodwin’s concept of site-specific “industries” (e.g. Ambrose 1998; Mehlman 1989; McBrearty 1986; Merrick 1975) which are used as comparative frameworks for studies in particular regions, to aid the construction of regional chronologies. These differ from earlier attempts, since they are defined solely on the basis of clearly stratified or dated sites, where the industries appear to have some sort of temporal cohesion and contextual clarity. While this attempt seems worthwhile (particularly when associated with good chronometric dates) several authors have adopted Grahame Clark's “mode” system (Clark 1977) of technological development to consider lithics at a larger scale (Phillipson 1993; Lahr and Foley 1994; Foley and Lahr 1997; Barham and Mitchell 2008). This approach, rather like the tripartite system, introduces an unacceptable impression of “evolving” stone tools, and works only with the “dominant technological mode”, again subsuming the variability and “innovation” it seeks to explain (Clark 1982). As Tyron and McBrearty (2002) have pointed out, several “modes” may be represented in a single MSA lithic assemblage. McBrearty (2001) notes that at the Kapthurin Formation, as at Melka Kunturé (Chavaillon et al. 1978; 1979), both points and handaxes are found together. In the Kapthurin Formation, however, there is interstratification of sites that could be classified as Acheulean, Sangoan, Fauresmith or MSA on the basis of their diagnostic artefacts (Tyron and McBrearty 2002). Further, as Bar-Yosef (1989) amongst others (e.g. Clark 1981) has commented, no simple relationship between lithic industries and hominin species can be satisfactorily demonstrated. Whilst some degree of generalisation is no doubt necessary when considering the implications of archaeology, in larger scale models, the use of a terminology based on “modes” is so general that it creates an illusion, and this does little to improve our understanding of the past.

That the system was too simplistic was recognised from the outset, and the MSA was soon subdivided to incorporate further terminologies, which referred to perceived regional or temporal differences, “cultures”, “traditions”, “variations”, “industries” and technologies (Clark 1963; Kleindienst 1967; Cahen 1978; McBrearty 1986; Cole 1967). For example, Goodwin (1929) distinguished between the terms “industry” and “variation”. He suggested that the word industry should be “employed where a group is certain and definable”. He advocated the use of the term “variation”, in cases where there was still uncertainty concerning the exact relationship to other groups and industries, or where insufficient data had been collected to form the basis for a definite classification. This term has not really persisted in the literature. Burkitt (1929) by contrast defined “industry” as “an assemblage of artefacts at a given site, when all are of the same age” whereas “culture” was a group of industries between which there was “an evident connection, some common element one with another” plus those “factors which help us to discover anything of the life and minds of the people”. These additional terminologies have been variously adopted, dropped, re-adopted, re-defined, dated, redated, added to, correlated across Africa and compared to European terminologies. Some of these terms were originally grouped into “First” and “Second Intermediate” stages to reflect a gradualist model of change. In eastern and central Africa the First Intermediate stage incorporated the Sangoan, Fauresmith, Acheulo-Levalloisian and sometimes the Lupemban, which were thought to be transitional ESA-MSA, and the Second Intermediate included industries seen as transitional MSA-LSA such as the Magosian, Upper Kenya Capsian and LupemboTshitolian. The “Intermediates” (though not all the terms they incorporated) were then abandoned because they were inadequately defined, often on the basis of mixed surface collections (Bishop and Clark 1967), or found to be succeeded by non-microlithic MSA industries (Delson et al. 2000). Despite similar problems with the ESA-MSALSA system as a whole, and the official discontinuation of the term “MSA” (Delson et al. 2000), it has continued to be commonly used.

The Middle Stone Age: Chronology The chronological definition of the MSA is similarly complex. Initially it was defined in terms of the pluvial/ interpluvial model, until the advent of radiocarbon dating in the 1950s led J.D. Clark to introduce a chronology that defined its boundaries as c. 40 ka BP to c. 10 ka BP (Clark 1970a). This was largely based on a 14C date of 110 ka BP were achieved on wood, for the Acheulean (Lee et al. 1976), but these are now considered to be too young (ed. Clark 2001: 27). Radiocarbon dates on the earlier levels at the site are also recognised as being too young. Recently, uranium series dates were attempted on wood by McKinney (2001). Clark believes these results also are too young (ed. Clark 2001: 27), but they do provide dates between 166 and 198 ka BP for the Lower Acheulean, a range for the Upper Acheulean between 172 and 192 ka BP, and for the Sangoan levels ages between 65 and 85 ka BP. The Lupemban remains undated, but recently there have been attempts to do so (Duller pers. comm.), using OSL. The preliminary results are younger than anticipated, and work is underway to understand the reasons for this. It is a pity that it has not yet been possible to achieve more reliable dates for Kalambo Falls, given that it is probably the most intensively researched, well known, and most consistently analysed Sangoan/Lupemban sequence, at least in terms of the lithics. This overview of recent dating indicates that many Sangoan sites appear to be late mid-Pleistocene occurrences. This is in keeping with their relationship to Acheulean industries, but more dates are certainly needed. The only newly dated Lupemban occurrence within this mid-Pleistocene bracket is Twin Rivers. By contrast the central African record continues to suggest that the Lupemban is a later occurrence. This suggests several possible scenarios:

One of the first attempts to date Sangoan/Lupemban sites by other (i.e. non-radiocarbon and non-typological) methods was by McBrearty in the 1980s. At Muguruk, she made a calculation based on sedimentation rates of the 6 metre sequence which contained the Ojollo Industry (Sangoan/Lupemban) and the Pundo Makwar Industry (MSA), arriving at an estimation of between 30 and 170 ka BP. Perhaps more useful were her attempts to data Simbi. McBrearty took samples of tuffs found intercalated in a fluvial sequence and using Ar/Ar dating the Sangoan was bracketed between 50 and 200 ka BP – still a remarkably long period, but at least an indication of its antiquity (McBrearty 1992a; 1992b).

1) The Twin Rivers assemblage is not Lupemban 2) The Twin Rivers date is unreliable 3) Taphonomic processes at Twin Rivers have led to the mixing of more recent Lupemban material into older deposits

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Sanogoan/Lupemban in West Africa

4) All the Central African dates are wrong 5) Twin Rivers represents an early occurrence of the Lupemban which persists in central Africa until much more recent times 6) The central African record represents the re-appearance of a lithic industry closely comparable to the Lupemban but more recent, i.e. a “second” Lupemban.

Pioneering work on the MSA of West Africa was undertaken by Oliver Davies, and Robert Soper (Davies, 1964, 1967; Soper 1967; Allsworth-Jones 1987). Many sites they identified have been referred to as Sangoan/Lupemban (Phillipson 1993; Soper 1967; Cornelissen 2002; Davies 1967). However, there has been some confusion over the attribution of these sites, and a tendency (which persists in some recent literature) to dismiss the western African Sangoan/Lupemban. Reasons for this include: the definition of industries on the basis of surface finds; a lack of diagnostic artefacts (core axes and lanceolate points); small assemblage sizes; and claims that assemblages come from “disturbed contexts” (Wai-Ogosu 1973; Barham and Mitchell referring to Bété I). Some of these are valid concerns and the credibility of the West African Sangoan/ Lupemban was not helped when Davies claimed for example that artefacts from Cap Manuel in Senegal were Sangoan. Instead these were shown to be roughouts for Neolithic ground stone axes (Allsworth-Jones 1987). There are undoubtedly problems with some of Davies’ interpretations and attributions, but for some areas his observations are now the only record we have, since the sites he recorded have been destroyed through flooding for reservoirs. Where this is not the case, revisiting some of his and Soper’s site locations could be a useful exercise, particularly as Davies’ work also contains a wealth of information with frequent references to raised beaches, river terraces, soil formations and (unusually for the time) specifically defined stone lines (Davies, 1964, 1967). This is important because it shows that he was not only thinking about individual sites, but trying to relate them to regional, continental and global changes in landscape, and to hominin occupation and behaviour. These issues continue to concern us today, and with targeted fieldwork, it may be possible to bring his interpretations up to date.

While the first three options seem unlikely, the occurrence of a later Lupemban has recently been supported by work at a stratified Lupemban site, Rambogo rock shelter in western Kenya. In 2008, Basell and colleagues took OSL samples from the site, which contains core axes closely comparable to the Siszya Industry core axes from Kalambo Falls (Basell et al. in preparation). The results from this work suggest that a later Pleistocene Lupemban remains a distinct possibility. Dates on the Kalambo Falls Lupemban will certainly help to clarify this issue, alongside more detailed lithic analyses to allow a tighter definition of the Lupemban as an industry. Sangoan/Lupemban Environments A further point of interest is the ongoing discussion over whether the Sangoan/Lupemban represents a woodland adaptation, an idea suggested by J.D. Clark (see for example Clark 1959). Heavy duty is a term associated with these industries, and particularly with Sangoan-Lupemban core axes, because it is thought they were used for ‘heavy-duty’ tasks such as woodworking (Clark, 1964; 1965, 1970, 2001). Roe’s (2001) description of core axes from Kalambo helps to draw out this reasoning by discussing their differences from handaxes. In short the argument runs that the working edges of core-axes were not intended for cutting but for chopping. The edges are therefore more robust. Generally they have been made from cobbles or large pebbles, rather than flakes. The tip is narrow and usually squared or pointed. Recent work on core axes from Sai Island (Rots and Van Peer, 2006) supports Clark’s (1974) suggestion, that later core axes were hafted, but does not support a woodworking function. Instead, Rots argues they were used, at least at Sai Island, for subsurface exploitation of lithic raw material, plant foods or iron oxides. Taylor (pers. comm.) has reached similar conclusions through his doctoral research on Lupemban core-axes. The association is pertinent, because woodland areas have been considered as refugia during periods of climatic stress (see Basell 2008 for further discussion of Middle Stone Age refugia). This assumption has been minimally tested, and criticised as an over-simplistic correlation of the Sangoan-Lupemban with present day forest distributions (McBrearty 1987; Phillipson 1993; Barham and Mitchell 2008). Whilst it is true that many Sangoan/Lupemban sites fall outside the forested zone (Bishop and Clark 1967), very few of these sites have good, site-specific environmental data. There are some exceptions, for example Kalambo, Simbi, and Rambogo, as well as some recent work by Mercader (2002). Mercader does provide some corroboratory evidence to demonstrate that Sangoan and Lupemban sites occurred in both rainforest and more open woodland/ savanna environments.

The only reasonably securely dated Sangoan site in West Africa is Bété I (Anyama) from the Ivory Coast. Three TL dates were obtained, and the deposits underlying the Sangoan were dated to 254 +/- 51 kya. The Sangoan lithic assemblage contains some bifaces (Liubin and Guédé 2000). The date on this site is extremely important because if it is correct, it clearly demonstrates the presence of hominins in West Africa during the late mid-Pleistocene, with stone tools which are comparable to those found elsewhere in Africa at a similar period. Unfortunately the detailed publication is only presently available in Russian (though a six page summary in English is provided, as well as numerous illustrations, Allsworth-Jones 2002), and this makes it difficult for many researchers to fully understand the work conducted at the site, or to compare the artefacts with other Sangoan/Lupemban or MSA assemblages known from West Africa (e.g. Soriano et al., this volume; Quickert et al. 2003; Hawkins et al. 1996). Liubin and Guédé (2000) also discuss a number of other MSA sites, and describe a further stratified Sangoan occurrence at Guabuo, in which artefacts were found in redeposited loams. 20

Middle Stone Age Sangoan-Lupemban Lithic Assemblages of Africa Up to now, perhaps the best-known Sangoan site in West Africa has been Asokrochona in southern Ghana, discovered by Davies in 1958. This was excavated by Nygaard and Talbot and by Andah between 1972 and 1974. An ironstone gravel of well rounded lateritic fragments (the Asockrochona Formation) was thought to have formed under arid conditions and it was on top of this, or in the upper part of it, that the principal Sangoan archaeological finds were located. The Sangoan occurrence is said to overlie Acheulean materials and to underlie “meso-neolithic” ones. The date suggested is 13,000–20,000 BP (Nygaard and Talbot 1984), but this is speculative. Overlying this was the Nungua Formation of red aeolian sands. Nygaard and Talbot (1976) reported the lithics from Asokrochona and produced a generalised section for the area which includes raised beach sediments, and aeolian sands containing artefacts. The finds include core-axes, a handaxe and picks as well as a wide range of other artefacts, categorised following J.D. Clark. Beach heights were considered as a means of dating and an attempt was made to correlate the evidence with Burke’s climatic data (Burke et al. 1971). At Tema II (Nygaard and Talbot 1984) a similar laterite gravel layer was found and was again thought to have been laid down during the aridity of the last glacial maximum at 20 ka BP. At Tema II, the Sangoan material was located in the basal layers of this deposit and was given a date of 20,000–25,000 BP (Nygaard and Talbot 1984). If exposures still exist at these sites, they could easily be re-investigated taking into consideration developments in thinking regarding stone lines (Mercader et al. 2002) and employing new dating methodologies such as OSL. There has been some discussion as to whether these sites should be considered Sangoan (Allsworth-Jones 1987). Given the wide range of artefact types presently incorporated under the terms Sangoan/Lupemban, considering them to be part of the larger Sangoan Industrial complex, as suggested, seems appropriate.

be Njuinye, where Mercader and Marti (1999) reported a four metre sequence, before excavation had to be halted due to lack of shoring. Lithics attributed to the Sangoan lay two metres beneath a deposit with a radiocarbon date of 34,700 years, suggesting a significantly older date for them (Mercader 2002). Discussion There are many other African sites referred to as Sangoan/ Lupemban, which have not been discussed here, a large number of them surface scatters (see for example Lanfranchi and Clist 1991 or Van Noten 1982). McBrearty (1988) Van Noten (1982) and Quickert (2003) have all emphasised that Sangoan/Lupemban assemblages frequently come from ambiguous or poorly documented stratigraphic contexts, and that there are few reliably excavated samples. Lanfranchi (1991) suggests that the real handicap in studying these industries is that much of the excavated material appears to have come from disturbed deposits. This is unduly negative. If artefacts are in a stratified context, even if it is “disturbed”, then it is likely that some useful information can be obtained by excavation and analysis, particularly if the site is dated. It is true that many of the sites in question are not in situ pristine knapping scatters, but this is not a reason for dismissing them. It should be noted that truly in situ palaeolithic sites, in a world wide context, are extremely unusual. As John Wymer wrote about the UK, “…the great majority of the evidence for the Palaeolithic occupation of Britain comes from River deposits” (1999). Some of the artefacts may have been moved only minimally, others have been reworked within terrace sequences (e.g. Brown et al. 2010). The same appears to be the case in Africa, where thorough studies of site formation processes should be conducted, as at sites like Mosumu (Mercader et al. 2002). Such sites are not to be ignored, rather the artefact occurrences should be considered within their geomorphic context, and their value in the interpretation of human behaviour at a range of different scales assessed accordingly. Even with abraded artefacts, it is often the case that they have been transported only a few hundred metres. Hence, these assemblages retain a degree of temporal integrity and useful behavioural information. Through understanding the sedimentology and stratigraphy, it is often possible to deduce the rate and degree of artefact movement.

Other stratified Sangoan/Lupemban sites exist in western Africa which would also warrant re-investigation and provide a useful set of lithics for comparison. For example, in Gabon, Locko has reported a number of Middle Stone Age, Sangoan and Lupemban sites several of which come from stratified fluvial sequences or stone lines (Locko, 1990; 1991a and b). In Cameroon a number of stratified sites, considered by the authors to be Sangoan/ Lupemban, were identified during geomorphological surveys in the 1980s (Omi et al.1986a and b). While the number of artefacts collected was not high, and not all the sites were excavated, their geomorphological and stratigraphic positions were well recorded. Again, many of the artefacts are from sandy deposits, which could now be dated. Whether the attribution of the quartz and quartzite artefacts to the Sangoan/Lupemban rather than just the MSA is justified would require further examination and comparative work on the artefacts themselves, but sites like this demonstrate that re-investigation of such survey areas could provide a useful starting point for elucidating the contribution of West Africa to the Sangoan, Lupemban and MSA. One interesting site from southern Cameroon might

In this connection, it is perhaps worth emphasising that the Lupemban at Kalambo Falls itself is not truly in situ (ed. Clark 2001). As Sheppard and Kleindienst (1996) wrote, “Virtually all archaeological aggregates at Kalambo Falls have experienced some form of natural disturbance in alluvial or colluvial contexts (Kleindienst 1959; Schick 1992); however, the aggregates analyzed here have, in general, suffered relatively little disturbance (based upon incidence of geological wear) compared to some of the more recent aggregates”. By recent aggregates, they meant material overlying the uppermost Lupemban. The Kalambo Lupemban is found within fluvial deposits, yet this is considered as one of the type sites for the industry, 21

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 2: Left: Core axe from Rambogo, western Kenya. Right: Core axe from new, stratified site at Sango Bay, Uganda presently under investigation by the author.

while other such sites have been dismissed (Barham and Mitchell 2008), or at best put to one side for the same reason, e.g. Nsongezi, Gombe, and many of the other central and western African sites (cf. Phillipson 1993, 2005).

to models of hominin behaviour and may even affect the manner in which they are analysed, and therefore the time and cost of such work. This is what Moeyersons was trying to do at Gombe point, but rather than continually repeating the results of earlier researchers, we should question whether their conclusions are correct, ideally through site re-investigation and new fieldwork (Moeyersons 1978; Cahen et al. 1983).

Recording the stratigraphy and sedimentology, and understanding the geomorphology at each site, must remain the highest priority for archaeologists during excavation, in conjunction with the taking and recording of the location of suitable samples for dating. Where subsequent researchers conclude or suggest that a lithic assemblage is mixed, it is important that a justification is given of how it has become mixed. Such conclusions should not be reached solely because typological or technological components of an assemblage have not previously been found together, or because the artefacts appear patinated, weathered or rolled. It is often possible to work out for example how rapidly the stratigraphic unit was formed, and even the derivation of the sediment within that unit. Understanding these factors will then allow us to understand the relevance of the lithics

There are undoubtedly numerous problems with the Sangoan/Lupemban, not least that the type sites (Sango Bay, Uganda (see Figure 2) and Lupemba River terraces, Democratic Republic of Congo), upon which both terms are defined, remain undated, and there are questions concerning the stratigraphic context of the finds. The establishment of a reliable chronology remains a major stumbling block, but with the advent of new dating methods such as OSL, TL, K/Ar and Ar/Ar, the potential to establish minimum ages for some of these sites is improved. At present dates suggest that there are two periods in which Sangoan/ 22

Middle Stone Age Sangoan-Lupemban Lithic Assemblages of Africa Conclusions

Lupemban assemblages cluster, but whether these are an artefact of dating methodology remains to be established. The first group is Sangoan-Lupemban occurrences dated to between c. 300 ka BP and 150 ka BP. These have generally been dated by OSL, U-Series, and K-Ar. The second group clusters between c. 50 ka BP and 20 ka BP. It remains perfectly feasible that these patterns are real, and that there are indeed two occurrences. Examination of the lithic material, using methods which would allow better comparisons of assemblages, may throw light on this. As Allsworth-Jones (1987) pointed out, there are problems with simple typological categorisations, but if detailed technological and morphometric data are collected, it should be possible to compare assemblages meaningfully. While the terms Sangoan and Lupemban have been used together in this paper, there do seem to be differences between assemblages, with more recent late MSA and early LSA assemblages containing a larger number of smaller lightweight lithics, and more refined lanceolate points. As suggested in Basell (2008), and as Gowlett et al. (2001: 619) expressed it, it is possible that the heavy-duty component (sensu Clark 1974) in African assemblages could be related to “more rugged humans” prior to 200 ka BP, alternatively its disappearance, as Shea (1991) has suggested, to an increasing reliance on hafting tools.

The majority of recent work conducted by researchers on the Sangoan/Lupemban is on sites in eastern and south central Africa. While some areas of central Africa are presently too politically unstable to allow archaeological research, such research including survey for new sites could be conducted in large areas of western Africa. It is here that our future understanding of the Sangoan/ Lupemban could be advanced and could have a major impact on our understanding of human evolution in Africa. Certainly a woodland adaptation should not be ruled out and recent attempts to apply use wear analyses to Lupemban/Sangoan artefacts add a different dimension to this (Rots and Van Peer 2006; Van Peer et al. 2004; Taylor, pers. comm.). Sangoan/Lupemban sites seem to be associated with large rivers and lakes. This may to some extent be an artefact of preservation and research bias, but it may not be entirely the case, since later MSA sites are often found in rock shelters and caves (Basell, 2008; Cornelissen 2002). Rather than consigning Sangoan/ Lupemban lithics to the spoil heap, this paper has argued that revisiting some of the relevant areas in western and central Africa, and applying new techniques and modern geomorphological interpretations, could have a dramatic impact on our interpretation of human evolution. Advances in geochronology, geomorphology, and soil science and the increased use of satellite imagery should allow us to reinvestigate these sites. Demonstrating how major climatic shifts influenced palaeogeography and environmental conditions, and the linking of this to the archaeological record and the changes we see in that, remains a major research prerogative.

In order to compare the West African lithics with those from elsewhere, it is time they were analysed in a way that facilitates comparison. It is true that many of the Sangoan/ Lupemban sites from this area remain minimally analysed and published. Some have been analysed typologically, but different typological systems have been used, making it extremely difficult to compare them in a meaningful way. Where measurements have been taken, there is a lack of consistency in the data recorded between sites. This is not surprising, given that it is equally the case for eastern Africa, and there are even inconsistencies within the Kalambo Falls data set itself (ed. Clark 2001). In this case, however, there are numerous illustrations and these provide a range of useful information, which the author is presently using to create a database of morphometric and illustrative data, to be used in conjunction with analysis of lithics through direct observation. Initial results suggest that there are significant differences between sites, where the same typological categorisation is used. For example, comparison of artefacts categorised by different authors as “core axes” shows a significant degree of variation. This may be due to: a) raw material differences (many artefacts are on quartz, quartzite and sandstone, but not all); b) researcher bias; c) temporal differences; d) functional differences; e) regional differences; f) social preferences; g) different species. If similar detailed comparisons could be made in respect of the other components, then it might be possible to consider whether assemblages lacking the ‘heavy-duty’ element are also Sangoan/Lupemban, or whether they really are later Middle Stone Age, i.e. the assumption that is usually made (e.g. the comparison of Birimi to the “Ultimate MSA” of Nakpanduri in Northern Ghana, Hawkins et al. 1996; Quickert et al. 2003).

Acknowledgements Many thanks to Dr Philip Allsworth-Jones for encouraging me to investigate further the MSA of western Africa, and for inviting me to contribute to this volume. Thanks also to Prof Geoff Duller, Dr Nick Taylor, Dr Els Cornelissen, Prof Nick Barton and Prof Tony Brown for their assistance and helpful discussions on this topic. References Allsworth-Jones, P. 1987. The earliest human settlement in West Africa and the Sahara. West African Journal of Archaeology, 17, 87-128. Allsworth-Jones, P. 1993. The Archaeology of Archaic and Early Modern Homo Sapiens: An African Perspective. Cambridge Archaeological Journal, 3(1), 21 - 39. Allsworth-Jones, P. 2002. Review of Liubin, V.P. and Guédé F.Y. (2000) Paleolit Respubliki Kot d'Ivuar (Zapadnaya Afrika) (The Palaeolithic of the Republic of Côte d’Ivoire (West Africa)). St Petersburg: Russian Academy of Sciences, Institute of the History of Material Culture. Antiquity, 76. 578-579. Ambrose, S. H. 1998. Chronology of the Later Stone Age and Food Production in East Africa. Journal of Archaeological Science, 25, 377 - 392. 23

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C.A. 1996. A Middle Stone Age Component at the Birimi Site, Northern Region, Ghana. Nyame Akuma, 34-36. Isaac, G L. 1982. The earliest archaeological traces. In (ed.) J. D. Clark, The Cambridge History of Africa, Volume 1, From the Earliest Times to c. 500 BC, Chapter 3: 157-248. Kittles, R. and Keita, S. 1999. Interpreting African Genetic Diversity. African Archaeological Review, 16(2), 8791. Klein, R. G. 1970. Problems in the Study of the Middle Stone Age of South Africa. South African Archaeological Bulletin, 25, 127 - 135. Kleindienst, M.R. 1959. Composition and significance of a Late Acheulian assemblage, based on an analysis of East African occupation sites. Doctoral dissertation, University of Chicago. Kleindienst, M. R. 1967. Questions of Terminology in Regard to the Study of Stone Age Industries in Eastern Africa: "Cultural Stratigraphic Units". In (eds.) L. Bishop and J. D. Clark, Background to Evolution in Africa, 821-875. Lahr, M. M. and R. Foley. 1994. Multiple Dispersals and Modern Human Origins. Evolutionary Anthropology, 3, 48 - 60. Lanfranchi, R. and Clist, B. 1991. Aux Origines de L’Afrique Centrale. Centres Culturels Français d’Afrique Centrale, Centre International des Civilisations Bantu, Libreville, Gabon. Lanfranchi, R. 1991. Synthèse régionale des Ages de la Pierre Ancien et Moyen. In (eds.) Lanfranchi, R. and Clist, B., Aux Origines de L’Afrique Centrale. Centres Culturels Français d’Afrique Centrale, Centre International des Civilisations Bantu, Libreville, Gabon. Lee, C., Bada, J.L. and Peterson, E. 1976. Amino acids in modern and fossil woods. Nature, 259, 183-6. Liubin, V.P. and Guédé F.Y. 2000. Paleolit Respubliki Kot d'Ivuar (Zapadnaya Afrika) (The Palaeolithic of the Republic of Côte d’Ivoire (West Africa)). St Petersburg: Russian Academy of Sciences, Institute of the History of Material Culture. Locko, M. 1990. Les industries préhistoriques du Gabon (Middle Stone Age et Late Stone Age). In (eds.) Lanfranchi, R., Schwartz, D., Paysages quaternaires de l’Afrique centrale Atlantique. Paris, ORSTOM, 393 – 405. Locko, M. 1991a. Ages de la Pierre Ancien et Moyen: Gabon. In (eds.) Lanfranchi, R. and Clist, B., Aux Origines de L’Afrique Centrale. Centres Culturels Français d’Afrique Centrale, Centre International des Civilisations Bantu, Libreville, Gabon, 67–74. Locko, M. 1991b. Ages de la Pierre Récent: Gabon. In (eds.) Lanfranchi, R. and Clist, B., Aux Origines de L’Afrique Centrale. Centres Culturels Français d’Afrique Centrale, Centre International des Civilisations Bantu, Libreville, Gabon, 107–110. Mabulla, A. 1996. Middle and Later Stone Age Land-Use and Lithic Technology in the Eyasi Basin, Tanzania.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Unpublished PhD Dissertation, Department of Anthropology, University of Florida. Malan, B.D. 1955. The Term Middle Stone Age. Proceedings of the Third Pan African Congress on Prehistory, 1955, 223-227. Masao, F. T. 1992. The Middle Stone Age with reference to Tanzania, Continuity or Replacement. In (eds.) G. Bräuer and F. H. Smith, Balkema, 99-109. McBrearty, S. 1986. The archaeology of the Muguruk Site. western Kenya. Unpublished PhD thesis, Department of Anthropology, University of Illinois. McBrearty, S. 1987. Une évaluation du Sangoen: son age, environnement et son rapport avec l’origine de l’Homo sapiens. L’Anthropologie, 91, 497 - 510. McBrearty, S. 1988. The Sangoan-Lupemban and Middle Stone Age sequence at Muguruk site, western Kenya. World Archaeology, 19, 379 - 420. McBrearty, S. 1992a. The Sangoan Record at Simbi, Kenya. Nyame Akuma, 37, 50. McBrearty, S. 1992b. Sangoan Technology and Habitat at Simbi. Nyame Akuma, 38, 34-39. McBrearty, S. 2001. The Middle Pleistocene of East Africa. In (eds.) Barham, L.S. and Robson-Brown, K. Human Roots: Africa and Asia in the Middle Pleistocene. Western Academic and Specialist Press, Bristol. McBrearty, S. and A. Brooks. 2000. The revolution that wasn't: a new interpretation of the origin of modern human behaviour. Journal of Human Evolution, 39, 453 - 563. McKinney, C. 2001. The uranium-series age of wood from Kalambo Falls. In (ed.) Clark J.D., Kalambo Falls Prehistoric Site, Volume 3, The Earlier Cultures: Middle and Earlier Stone Age, Appendix D. Mehlman, M. J. 1989. Later Quaternary Archaeological Sequences in Northern Tanzania. Unpublished PhD thesis, Department of Anthropology, University of Illinois. Mehlman, M. J. 1991. Context for the Emergence of Modern Man in Eastern Africa: some new Tanzanian Evidence. Cultural beginnings: approaches to understanding early hominid life-ways in the African savanna. (ed.) J. D. Clark, Bonn, Habelt, 177 - 196. Mercader, J. 2002. Forest People : The Role of African Rainforests in Human Evolution and Dispersal. Evolutionary Anthropology, 11, 117-124. Mercader, J. and Marti, R. 1999. Archaeology in the tropical forest of Banyang-Mbo, Southwest Cameroon. Nyame Akuma, 52, 17-24. Mercader, J., Marti, R., Martinez, J.L. and Brooks, A. 2002. The nature of ‘stone lines’ in the African Quaternary Record: Archaeological resolution at the rain forest site of Modumu, Equatorial Guinea. Quaternary International, 89, 71-96. Merrick, H. V. 1975. Change in Later Pleistocene Lithic industries in Eastern Africa. Unpublished PhD. Dissertation, Department of Anthropology, University of California. Mitchell, P J. 2002. The Archaeology of Southern Africa. Cambridge, Cambridge. University Press.

Moeyersons, J. 1978. The Behaviour of Stones and Stone Implements buried in Consolidating and Creeping Kalahari Sands. Earth Surface Processes, 3, 115-128. Nygaard, S.E. and Talbot, M.R. 1976. Interim Report on Excavation at Asokrochona, Ghana. West African Journal of Archaeology, 6, 13-19. Nygaard, S.E. and Talbot, M.R. 1984. Stone Age Archaeology and Environment on the Southern Accra Plains, Ghana. Norwegian Archaeological Review, 17, 19-38. Omi, G., Kadomura, H. and Hori, N. 1986a. A Brief Note on Implements Collected in Cameroon during the 1982/1983 Season Field Research Work. In (ed.) Kadomura, H. Natural and Man-Induced Environmental Changes in Tropical Africa. Case Studies in Cameroon and Kenya – A preliminary report of the Tropical African Geomorphology and Late Quaternary Palaeoenvironments Research Project 1982/83, Hokkaido University, Sapporo, March 1986, 105-111. Omi, G., Kato, Y., Kawai, T., Hori, N. and Kadomura, H. 1986b. Classification and Tyological Analysis of Palaeolithic Implements in Cameroon. In (ed.) Kadomura, H. Geomorphology and Environmental Changes in Tropical Africa. Case Studies in Cameroon and Kenya – A preliminary report of the Tropical African Geomorphology and Late Quaternary Palaeoenvironments Research Project 1984/85, Hokkaido University, Sapporo, March 1986, 257-297. Osborne, A., Vance, D., Rohling, E., Barton, N., Rogerson, M., Fello, N. 2008. A humid corridor across the Sahara for the migration of early modern humans out of Africa at 120,000. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 104, no. 43, 16444-16447. Phillipson, D. W. 1993; 2005. African Archaeology. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Quickert, N., Godfrey-Smith, D., Casey, J. 2003. Optical and thermoluminescence dating of Middle Stone Age and Kintampo bearing sediments at Birimi, a multicomponent archaeological site in Ghana. Quaternary Science Reviews, 1291-1297. Rhodes, E., Singarayer, J., Raynal, J.-P., Westaway, K., Sbihi-Alaoui, F. 2006. New age estimates for the Palaeolithic assemblages and Pleistocene succession of Casablanca, Morocco. Quaternary Science Reviews, 25 (19-20), 2569-2585. Roe, D. 2001. A view of the Kalambo Falls Early and Middle Stone Age assemblages in the context of the Old World Palaeolithic. In (ed.) Clark, J.D. Kalambo Falls Prehistoric Site, Volume 3, The Earlier Cultures: Middle and Earlier Stone Age, Chapter 14. Rots, V. and Van Peer, P. 2006. Early evidence of complexity in lithic economy: core-axe production, hafting and use at Late Middle Pleistocene site 8-B-11, Sai Island (Sudan). Journal of Archaeological Science, 33, 360-371. Satta, Y. and Takahata, N. 2002. Out of Africa with regional interbreeding? Modern human origins. BioEssays, 24: 10, 871-875.

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Middle Stone Age Sangoan-Lupemban Lithic Assemblages of Africa Evolution, 42, 211-235. Van Noten, F. 1982. The Archaeology of Central Africa. Akademische Druk – u. Verlagsanstalt Graz/Austria. Van Peer, P., Rots, V. and Vroomans, J.-M. 2004. A story of colourful diggers and grinders: the Sangoan and Lupemban at site 8-B-11, Sai Island, Northern Sudan. Before Farming, 3, 139-166. Van Peer, P., Fullagar, R., Stokes, S., Bailey, R.M., Moeyersons, J., Steenhoudt, F., Geerts, A., Vanderbeken, T., De Dapper, M., Geus, F. 2003. The Early to Middle Stone Age Transition and the Emergence of Modern Human Behaviour at site 8-B-11, Sai Island, Sudan. Journal of Human Evolution, 45, 187-193. Van Riet Lowe, C. 1945. The evolution of the Levallois technique in South Africa. Man, 37. Van Riet Lowe, C. 1952. The Pleistocene geology and prehistory of Uganda. Part II: Prehistory. Geological Survey of Uganda, Memoir no VI. Menham and Co. Ltd. Colchester, England. Vogel, J. C. and P. B. Beaumont. 1972. Revised Radiocarbon Chronology for the Stone Age in South Africa. Nature, 237, 50 - 51. Wai Ogosu (now Andah), B. 1973. Was there a Sangoan industry in West Africa? West African Journal of Archaeology, 3, 191-196. Watson, E., Forster, P., Richards, M. and Bandelt, H.-J. 1997. Mitochondrial Footprints of Human Expansions in Africa. American Journal of Human Genetics, 61, 691 - 704. Wendorf, F. and R. Schild. 1974. A Middle Stone Age sequence from the Central Rift Valley, Ethiopia. Wroclaw, Ossolineum. White, T. D., Asfaw B., DeGusta, D., Gilbert, H., Richards, G D., Suwa, G. and Howell, E C. 2003. Pleistocene Homo sapiens from Middle Awash, Ethiopia. Nature, 423 (12), 742-747. Wymer, J. J. 1999. The Lower Palaeolithic Occupation of Britain, vols 1-2. Wessex Archaeology and English Heritage, Salisbury.

Schick, K.D. 1992. Geoarchaeological analysis of an Acheulean site at Kalambo Falls, Zambia. Geoarchaeology, 7 (1), 1-26. Schick, K.D. 2001. An examination of Kalambo Falls Acheulean Site B5 from a geoarchaeological perspective. In (ed.) Clark, J.D. Kalambo Falls Prehistoric Site, Volume 3, The Earlier Cultures: Middle and Earlier Stone Age, Chapter 7. Shea, J.J. 1991. Spear points from the Middle Palaeolithic of the Levant. Journal of Field Archaeology, 15, 441450. Sheppard, P.J. and Kleindienst, M.R. 1996. Technological Change in the Earlier and Middle Stone Age of Kalambo Falls (Zambia). African Archaeological Review, 13, 171-196. Soper, R.C. 1965. The stone age in Northern Nigeria. Journal of the Historical Society of Nigeria, 3, 175– 194. Soriano, S., M. Rasse, C. Tribolo, E. Huysecom. 2010. Ounjougou: a long Middle Stone Age sequence in the Dogon country (Mali). This volume. Stoneking, M. and Cann, R. 1989. African Origin of Mitochondrial DNA. P. Mellars and C. Stringer. The Human Revolution: Behavioural and Biological Perspectives on the Origins of Modern Humans. Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, 17 - 30. Templeton, A. 2002. Out of Africa again and again. Nature, 416, 45 - 51. Tishkoff, S., Goldman, A., Calafell, F., Speed, W., Deinard, A., Bonne-Tamir, B., Kidd, J., Pakstis, A., Jenkins, T. and Kidd, K. 1998. A Global Haplotype Analysis of the Myotonic Dystrophy Locus: Implications for the Evolution of Modern Humans and for the Origins of Myotonic Dystrophy Mutations. American Journal of Human Genetics, 62, 1389-1402. Tyron, C. A. and McBrearty, S. 2002. Tephrostratigraphy and the Acheulean to Middle Stone Age transition in the Kapthurin Formation, Kenya. Journal of Human

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28

The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria and preliminary results of new morphometric studies P. Allsworth-Jones,1 K. Harvati,2 C. Stringer3 Department of Archaeology, University of Sheffield, Sheffield S1 4ET. [email protected] 2 Zentrum für Naturwissenschaftliche Archäologie, Eberhard Karls Universität Tübingen, Rümelinstr. 23, 72070 Tübingen. [email protected] 3 Department of Palaeontology, The Natural History Museum, London SW7 5BD. [email protected] 1

Abstract The Iwo Eleru skeleton was excavated from the rock shelter of this name in 1965 by Thurstan Shaw and his team. This contracted burial was found in a level with Late Stone Age (LSA) artefacts, and a radiocarbon determination on associated charcoal gave an (uncorrected) age of 11,200 ± 200 BP. The excavators went to considerable trouble to satisfy themselves that the specimen was in situ. There is no occupation prior to the LSA and only slight indications of a subsequent “iron age” occupation. Significant human burials have since been excavated elsewhere in West Africa (notably at Shum Laka and Gobero) but Iwo Eleru so far retains its status as the earliest known such burial in the region. The poorly preserved skeleton was of an adult and probably male individual, and the skull was reconstructed and studied by Brothwell. He linked the skull to recent West African populations, but he recognized that its lower vault and frontal profile were unusual. He also supplied cranial data for a Principal Components Analysis performed by Peter Andrews, and noted that this placed the specimen apart from recent African samples. Stringer included the Iwo Eleru cranium in univariate and multivariate (Canonical Variates, Generalised Distance) analyses for his doctoral thesis, completed in 1974. His results highlighted apparent archaic aspects in the specimen in its long and rather low cranial shape, and although modern overall, it also resembled fossils such as Omo Kibish 2 and Ngandong in certain respects. New studies using a primary replica of Brothwell’s reconstruction have now been carried out by Harvati, employing geometric morphometrics to generate PCA, CVA, Procrustes Distance and Minimum Spanning Tree analyses of the specimen. The new morphometric studies establish the relatively archaic shape of the vault, and confirm that this Late Stone Age individual was markedly different from succeeding populations. The results highlight our present relative lack of knowledge concerning the identity of the manufacturers of LSA artefacts in West Africa and other parts of the continent. Keywords: Iwo Eleru, Late Stone Age, human cranium, geometric morphometrics

The site and the excavations

running from south to north, and 16 D-HH running from west to east. Two south-north running trenches were later added, D 17-27 on the west and S 17-25 on the east. D 17-27 (which is particularly important for our purposes) was interrupted by an unexcavated square D 24 which contained a large fallen roof slab. The section along the east face of this trench is shown at Figure 3. The total number of excavated squares was 810, but for analytical purposes only trenches D and F were used. From the site as a whole >500,000 artefacts were recovered. The excavators were not able to distinguish distinct layers as the work proceeded, and the homogeneous deposits were therefore divided into arbitrary 15 cm levels. From trenches D and F, 141 stratigraphic units were therefore available for analysis, and it is upon this basis that the sequence of events at the site has been constructed. Two photographs of the excavations in progress (taken by Joel Vanderburg) are at Figures 4 and 5.

Iwo Eleru is a rock shelter in south-western Nigeria, 24 km north-west of Akure, with coordinates 7°26’30” N and 5°7’40” E (Figure 1). It is 25 km south of the present northern limit of the forest zone. When Thurstan Shaw first visited the site, he observed that artefacts indicative of the Late Stone Age were eroding out of the talus slope in front of the platform, which clearly contained some depth of deposit. It was therefore chosen for excavation to test the conflicting hypotheses, either that the forest could not have been occupied before the introduction of iron tools, or that the occurrence of ground stone axes in presently forested areas implied that it had been so occupied. The excavations were carried out over a four month period in 1965. As Shaw commented, they succeeded in doing more than throwing light on those initial questions. The plan of the site is shown at Figure 2. The rock shelter is formed by the overhang of a huge block of gneiss at the foot of an inselberg. A maximum area of about 7 x 15 metres is within the drip line (which is marked by a dotted line on the plan) and the maximum depth of deposit was about 1.5 metres. The area to the south of the inselberg was laid out in a one-metre grid system, designated by letters from west to east, and by numbers from south to north. Initially, two long trenches were laid out, F 1-26

Stratigraphy and archaeology In the absence of clearly differentiated natural stratigraphy observed in the field, the sequence of events at the site was determined to a large extent by the statistical analysis of the stone artefacts which made up the great bulk of the finds, according to their position within the defined stratigraphic units. A “time vector plane” accounting for 42.3% of the 29

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives 5˚E

10˚E

NIGER

Lake Chad

Kano

Kaduna

BENIN 10˚N

NIGERIA Ibadan

IWO ELERU

CAMEROON

Lagos Benin City 5˚N

Gulf of Guinea

0

100 miles

0

100 kilometres

Figure 1: Position of Iwo Eleru in South-western Nigeria.

variance was established for the site, and this was divided into 8 successive groups which are adequately robust and the time directionality of which corresponds with the radiocarbon dates and the superposition of the units within each column at the site (Shaw and Daniels, 1984, Fig. 67). At an early stage of the work, the excavators noticed that there was a tendency for the proportion of chalcedony versus quartz to decline with depth, hence the proportions were carefully noted as work proceeded, and the resultant “chalcedony index” was also useful as a stratigraphic check on their interpretation. Combining all the information together, the excavators produced an “outline of the Iwo Eleru succession” (Shaw and Daniels, 1984, Table 17) and this has provided the basis for all further characterisation of this site and its comparison to others. From our point of view, it is important to note that there was “little accumulation of deposit in the shelter” before it began to be used in the LSA (Shaw and Daniels, 1984: 6). It was used in the recent past by farmers lighting fires in it, hence its name in Yoruba (“Cave of Ashes”). Some of the pottery found near the surface may also be recent. The bulk of it is “iron age” in type and is likely simply to have become incorporated in the LSA deposits, since no distinctive iron age layer as such was observed.

The only type of pottery definitely attributed to the LSA is comb stamped ware, as clearly found in situ in trench F 9 (Shaw and Daniels, 1984, Plate VIII). Six samples of charcoal were selected for radiocarbon dating, all from trench D, since it was considered that this showed the least evidence of disturbance, and it also contained the burial which was located in square D 23. The dates as listed are as follows. Lab. No.

provenance

depth surface

below

date BP

Hv 1512

D 21-22

20-35 cm

3465±65

Hv 1510

D 19-20

50-65 cm

5570±60

Hv 1509

D 20

65-80 cm

7030±85

Hv 1511

D 18

95-110 cm

8685±120

I 1754

D 18

100-115 cm

9150±150

I 1753

D 23 around burial

70-100 cm

11200±200

Shaw commented that this is a “consistent block of dates on which considerable reliance can be placed” (Shaw

30

a

The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeri

Figure 2: Iwo Eleru: plan of the site (after Shaw and Daniels 1984, Figure 2).

Figure 3: Section along east face of trench D XVII-XXVII (after Shaw and Daniels 1984, Figure 6).

31

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 4: Iwo Eleru: excavations in progress 1 (courtesy of Joel Vanderburg).

Figure 5: Iwo Eleru: excavations in progress 2 (courtesy of Joel Vanderburg). 32

The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria and Daniels, 1984: 7). In their outline of the Iwo Eleru succession, the excavators suggested that there were two basic periods or phases into which the sequence could be divided, A and B, respectively aceramic and ceramic, each of which could be further divided into two sub-periods. The four successive divisions could each be associated with certain of the “time vector plane” groups and the radiocarbon dates, as follows. period sub-period B A

TVP group

The environmental history of the site was therefore interpreted in terms of its geographical situation and in the light of what was then known about the climatic and vegetational history of West Africa in general. Relying on the evidence from Lake Chad and Lake Bosumtwi, among other places, Shaw assumed that West Africa was generally dry in the late Pleistocene from about 18,000 to 10,000 bc; the beginning of the Holocene from 10,000 to about 5000 bc represented a climatic optimum; and thereafter there were fluctuations, before the present climatic regime (involving desiccation of the Sahara) set in at about 2500 bc. On this assumption, the area around Iwo Eleru at the beginning of its occupation will have been generally dry savanna country. It was assumed that during the late Pleistocene the forest will have retreated to small relict areas along the coast, including the Niger delta. So the question was, when did the forest recover in the early Holocene, so that it embraced the Iwo Eleru area, and what happened after 5000 bc? Weighing all the odds, Shaw suggested that the forest may have advanced quite rapidly, moving northwards some 200 or 350 km in a few hundred years. He concluded that the forest will have covered Iwo Eleru by 5000 bc and that thereafter “it remained in forest until the end of the stone age occupation” (Shaw and Daniels, 1984: 52).

radiocarbon date BP

B2

VI-VII-VIII 3465±65

B1

V

5570±60 and 7030±85

A2

III-IV

9150±150

A1

I-II

8685±120 and 11200±200

Broadly speaking, it was suggested that the chronological boundaries for the periods and sub-periods were approximately as follows: A1 12,000-9000 BP; A2 90007000 BP; B1 7000-4500 BP; B2 4500-2000 BP. As stated, a basic criterion for the distinction between periods A and B is the appearance of pottery in B, certainly in B2 and probably in B1. Also characteristic of B is the presence of ground stone axes and other ground stone artefacts, commonly made of very durable materials such as sillimanite, dolerite, and charnockite. Chalcedony and quartz was used for the chipped stone tool component, which alone characterised period A. One set of tools that appears in B2 are trapezoids, many with a pronounced gloss along the sharp edge, the position of which suggests slightly oblique hafting, possibly for the cutting of grasses or cereals such as sorghum (Shaw and Daniels, 1984, Fig. 38 a and b). Generally however it is noticeable that microliths (defined quite tightly as small tools with at least one edge trimmed by steep backing or blunting) decline in number from the base of the sequence upwards. Their decline is balanced by an increase in the number of core tools and other heavy-duty pieces. This was tentatively interpreted in environmental terms.

Some elements of the archaeological succession were interpreted in that light. It was assumed that microliths equated with the use of a bow and arrow in open country, so their decline and replacement by heavy-duty equipment (as known from sites in other forested areas such as Blandè and Yengema: Shaw, 1978/79, Figs. 4 and 5) would be quite comprehensible. Shaw inclined to the view that the advent of pottery was due to diffusion from the north, even perhaps with the “actual movements of people southwards”, since this was the time when desiccation commenced in the Sahara (Shaw, 1978/79: 60). The burial A human burial was found in square D 23, the various parts of which were at depths between 82 and 100 cm from the surface. A photograph of the skull as first located is at Figure 6, and a plan of the skeletal remains is at Figure 7. As already mentioned, there is a radiocarbon date of 11,200±200 BP obtained on charcoal found in the immediate vicinity of the burial. The skeletal remains were found in a space between and below two rocks, and a layer of calcareous concretions was observed in the same space, at a higher level, between the upper surfaces of the two rocks. According to Shaw’s description, the corpse of this person “had been placed not far from bedrock … and covered with a shallow depth of soil early on in the shelter’s use” (Shaw and Daniels, 1984: 4-5). The excavators believed that the body had probably been buried in a tightly contracted position. At the time, they carefully considered the possibility that the burial may have been intrusive, and they rejected this notion on the grounds that there was no evidence of disturbance or of a burial pit. The “chalcedony index” did not indicate any anomaly

Environmental evidence Direct environmental evidence at the site is slight. Only a few small badly preserved fragments of animal bone were recovered and no information is available as to what species may have been represented (Shaw and Daniels, 1984: 30). Fish otoliths were identified in trench F 21 level 9. 12 species of molluscs were recognised by Nora McMillan (in Shaw and Daniels, 1984: 142-144). Most frequent was Archachatina marginata, a land snail still commonly used for food at the present time. All the other land snails could have occurred naturally in the surroundings of the site. Potadoma morchii is a freshwater species, and its appearance in trench S, where a red clay layer abuts the gneissic block at the back of the site, supports the excavators’ conclusion that storm water did accumulate here from time to time. 4 cowries (Cypraea moneta) occurred near the surface. No macrobotanical remains nor traces of pollen were preserved.

33

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 6: Iwo Eleru, 1965, east face of trench D XXII-XXIII. Centimetre scale rests on skull of skeleton. Layer of calcareous concretions can be seen extending between the upper surfaces of the two rocks. (after Shaw and Daniels 1984, Plate IX).

Figure 7: Iwo Eleru: plan of human bones in trench D XXIII. Depths indicated are measured from the surface after the removal of the superficial layer of modern ash. (after Shaw and Daniels 1984, Figure 64).

34

The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria

Figure 8: Late Stone Age sites in West Africa in relation to vegetation zones. (revised after Shaw 1978-79, Figure 6). at this point, and the layer of calcareous concretions above the skeleton did not show any signs of disturbance either. The excavators believed that the human remains “probably owe their preservation to a microenvironment which was exceptionally dry” (Shaw and Daniels, 1984: 29). The calcareous nodules were examined by K. Burke and S.J. Freeth (in Shaw and Daniels, 1984: 136) and the conclusion was that they were probably formed as a result of the seasonal movement of groundwater in this particular microenvironment. The post-cranial remains were found to be in a state beyond useful reconstruction, but this did

not apply to the skull, teeth, and mandible (Brothwell and Shaw, 1971). Comparisons to other West African sites Thurstan Shaw addressed this question in the monograph devoted to the site, and also in two general accounts of the Late Stone Age in West Africa (Shaw and Daniels, 1984; Shaw, 1978/79, 1985). The most detailed map was that published in “Early Man News”, which is reproduced here (slightly revised) at Figure 8. In the general scheme 35

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Shum Laka and Gobero

put forward, Shaw divided the LSA into two successive phases, aceramic and ceramic, each of which was characterised by a number of facies. In the aceramic phase, there were essentially two facies only, microlithic and non-microlithic (represented on the map by open □s and Δs) and these were equated with savanna and forested environments respectively. In the succeeding phase, the same distinction was observed between savanna and forest (the sites being represented on the map by filled squares and triangles). In both, pottery and ground stone axes made their appearance, but in the savanna these elements were added to the microlithic base whereas in the forest there were still few or no microliths. In the former case, as Shaw put it, pottery and ground stone axes appeared to be “grafted onto the microlithic tradition rather than to replace it” (Shaw, 1978/79: 61). Both phases were represented in superposition at some sites in both environments. In the forested south-western part of the region, mention has already been made of Yengema, and this is shown on the map as a numbered pair (9:33), as is Kakimbon (8:32), whereas Blandè (30) is represented by the ceramic phase only. The succession at Iwo Eleru (3:15) is paralleled among other places by that at Dutsen Kongba (38:41), Rop (2:14), Bosumpra (Abetifi), and other shelters along the Voltaian scarp (47:48 and 24). Bosumpra was excavated by Shaw in the 1940s and originally published as a ceramic phase site only, but a pre-ceramic phase was later detected at this location (Smith 1975). Radiocarbon dates for the transition from aceramic to ceramic at Dutsen Kongba and Bosumpra were not inconsistent with those from Iwo Eleru. Apart from the two major ceramic variants, a number of sites in the Sahel with few or no microliths were distinguished as a separate facies, as well as some coastal shell middens and factory sites (Shaw, 1978/79: 67 Table). Shaw was cautious in not claiming too much for his scheme, since as he said, it was no more than a “convenient classification of artefact groups with some reference to ecology”, whereas “its interpretation in cultural, ethnic and linguistic terms” would require more research before it could be said to have much reliability (Shaw, 1978/79: 65). Nonetheless, the scheme did provide and still provides a useful framework within which to consider the wider significance of Iwo Eleru.

These are key sites, neither of which was known when Shaw published his work on Iwo Eleru. Shum Laka is a rock shelter 15 km south-west of Bamenda in western Cameroun (5°51’37” N, 10°04’44” E). At an altitude of 1650 metres above sea level, it is situated in the mountainous region known as the Grasslands. Following initial investigations, an extensive excavation was undertaken over a six month period in 1991-1994, and this has provided the essential information about the site (Lavachery et al., 1996; Moeyersons, 1997; Lavachery, 2001; Cornelissen, 2003). It has been demonstrated, for the first time in West Africa, that the LSA extends back into the Pleistocene. Five radiocarbon dates (from layer S) span the period from 31,700±750 to 12,800±110 BP. As at Iwo Eleru, the sequence continues into the early Holocene and beyond (layer A, divided into a lower ochre and an upper grey coloured unit), extending without much sign of interruption into the early iron age. The microlithic industry, made principally in quartz, is very similar to that from Iwo Eleru, although macrolithic elements which appear in the upper part of the sequence are distinctive. Cornelissen and Lavachery question whether (as in Shaw’s scheme) microliths should necessarily be considered an adaptation to savanna conditions, and the macrolithic “culture” characterised by “waisted axes” which appears later seems to be bounded by frontiers which do not reflect ecological conditions. As at Iwo Eleru however an aceramic phase is succeeded by a ceramic phase, with the earliest pottery in the ochre layer A dated to 7140±50 BP. As a result of these discoveries, it has been suggested by MacDonald (1997: 161, 192) that we should think in terms of “a new model for the peopling of West Africa based upon a long-term autochthonous presence south of the Sahara”, which found its material expression in “an indigenous terminal Pleistocene West African microlithic techno-complex”. 18 skeletons have been found in the Holocene deposits at the site, in 9 burial complexes, which are attributed to two different chronological phases (Orban et al., 1996; Ribot et al., 2001). 3 burials with 4 individuals are attributed to the ochre layer A, with dates in the range from 7150±70 to 6870±80 BP. This layer corresponds archaeologically and chronologically to period B1 at Iwo Eleru, and the burials are clearly more recent than the one at Iwo Eleru. Orban and Ribot and their colleagues compared these skeletons to Iwo Eleru principally on the basis of postcranial features, particularly estimated stature (Ribot et al., 2001: table 35), though similarities were also detected in terms of a broad mandibular ramus and very worn teeth (Ribot et al., 2001: 193). Two adult male burials at Shum Laka have an estimated stature in the range 161-166 cm, compared with a figure for Iwo Eleru of 158-166 cm. 6 burials are known from the grey layer A, which has dates between 3300±90 and 2940±60 BP. Of the individuals identified 9 are children and 5 are adults. Chronologically the finds correspond to period B2 at Iwo Eleru. There are marked

Human skeletal material was mentioned from Karkarichinkat, Kourounkorokale, Tichitt, Daima, Kintampo, and Rop (Shaw, 1978/79: 76) but at the time none of this material was dated and was certainly not considered older than Iwo Eleru. Recent developments Since the original report on Iwo Eleru was published, at least two hitherto unknown sites with skeletal remains have been located in the region, new information has been obtained about the chronology of the MSA and the LSA in general, and considerable attention has also been devoted to the study of the environment during the period in question. These developments will briefly be summarised insofar as they are relevant to Iwo Eleru.

36

The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria distinctions between this population and the preceding one, so much so that they are considered to be “biologically different” (Ribot et al., 2001: 192). Two adult female individuals at Shum Laka, SE III and SE IV, have an estimated stature of 153-155 and 143-148 cm respectively; this, it is considered, suggests “an affinity with Pygmy populations”, although there is no supporting evidence to confirm this hypothesis (Ribot et al., 2001: 176).

to support Shaw’s view that the advent of pottery in West Africa was due to diffusion from the north. Ounjougou is important for an entirely different reason, since, as reported at this conference by Sylvain Soriano (see also Rasse et al., 2004), it has produced for the first time a reliably dated West African Pleistocene sequence for the MSA, dated by OSL to a period from about 160 to 19 kyrs BP. There are also two OSL dates of 40.8±11.4 and 23.6±9 kyrs BP from Birimi in northern Ghana for a “flake industry with a strong Levallois component” (Casey, 2003; Quickert et al., 2003). There are still no hominid associations with the MSA in West Africa, but if the younger of the dates at these two sites are correct then the makers of these industries (whoever they were) will have lived (presumably) side by side with the makers of the LSA.

Gobero is a site complex in central Niger, which was discovered in 2000 and excavated in 2005-2006; not surprisingly, it has attracted a good deal of attention (Sereno et al., 2008; Gwin, 2008). It is located on the north-western rim of the Chad basin, about 150 km southeast of the Aïr massif. At the beginning of the Holocene a shallow freshwater lake formed here, pooled against a low east-west fault scarp, and, with an interruption, this lake continued in existence for some 5000 years. Both lake episodes were associated with human occupation, traces of which are now preserved in three main palaeodune deposits (Sereno et al., 2008, Fig. 1). A minimum of 182 human burials have been noted, of which 67 have been excavated. 78 radiocarbon dates have been obtained and 9 OSL dates on palaeodune sand. On this basis, the excavators have divided the sequence into four principal phases (Sereno et al., 2008, Fig. 3). Phase 2 represents the early Holocene occupation, which has been dated in the range from 8640±40 to 7390±40 BP. The artefacts (including bone harpoons and ceramics) are characteristic of the Kiffian techno-complex. The analysis conducted by Sereno and his colleagues suggests that the population represented here is similar to the “Mechtoids” described from North Africa and the Sahara. Phase 3 is assigned to the mid-Holocene and has dates in the range from 5940±40 to 4090±40 BP. The artefacts (including hollow-based projectile points and pottery) belong to the Tenerean technocomplex. No particular affinities have been suggested for this “morphologically isolated” human group (Sereno et al., 2008, Fig. 6), but it is considered unlikely that they evolved in situ from the preceding population.

The main characteristics and the chronology of the late Pleistocene and the early Holocene in West Africa and the Sahara have been clearly delineated in recent studies, which broadly speaking do confirm the model which Shaw employed at the time the Iwo Eleru report was written. DeMenocal and his colleagues have established a framework for the nature and longevity of the African Humid Period, which followed the end of the Pleistocene, on the basis of the marine core at ODP site 658C off Cap Blanc, Mauritania (DeMenocal et al., 2000, Figs. 2, 3, and 4). Humid conditions initially commenced at about 14.8 cal kyrs BP, with the main episode of the AHP occurring between about 9 and 5.5 cal kyrs BP. It is likely that during the Late Glacial Maximum the southern boundary of the Sahara may have been situated at about 14°N, whereas in the early Holocene the northern boundary of the forest may have reached as far as 10-12°N (Dupont et al., 2000). Lézine and Cazet (2005, Fig. 5) have proposed a stepwise model for the northward expansion of the forest in West Africa during the AHP, extending from about 11.6 to 9.3 cal kyrs BP. There was a similarly uneven retreat at the end of the period. There is some disagreement about the extent to which the forest was reduced to fragments along the coast during the LGM, but the principle of its expansion is not in doubt. Any discrepancy between these authors is unlikely to upset Thurstan Shaw’s idea that the occupation of Iwo Eleru began in savanna conditions and persisted in a forested environment. The advance of the forest in the AHP was mirrored by a rise in lake levels, most notably Lake Chad (Leblanc et al., 2006). The lake may have begun to fill as far back as 10,160±160 BP and may not finally have begun to retreat until 3000±110 BP. It is estimated that it will have been at its maximum extent between about 7700 and 5500 BP, corresponding to about 8.5 to 6.3 cal kyrs BP. Lake Mega Chad therefore constitutes one of the most dramatic evidences for an early Holocene climatic optimum and its eventual decline to conditions more resembling those of the present.

These studies clearly show that the population of this area in the early and mid Holocene was not homogeneous. But so far, Iwo Eleru retains its status as the earliest known excavated burial in the region. The wider context So far, there is no other Pleistocene LSA succession in West Africa comparable to Shum Laka. As already remarked, pottery came into use at that site at about the same time as at Iwo Eleru. At Ounjougou, in Mali, there is a radiocarbon date of 8700±75 BP directly associated with pottery at Ravin du Hibou (Huysecom et al., 2004a, 2004b; Raeli and Huysecom, 2004). The assemblage here is described as Kiffian, and in terms of dating this obviously is consonant with the evidence from Gobero. In 2007 a few more sherds were found in a stratigraphically lower horizon at Ravin de la Mouche, so the advent of pottery at this site may be even earlier (Huysecom et al., 2009, Fig. 1 and Table 1). As a whole therefore the evidence still seems

Studies of the Iwo Eleru cranium The poorly preserved skeleton was of an adult and probably male individual, and the skull was reconstructed and studied by Brothwell (Brothwell and Shaw, 1971). He 37

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives linked the skull to recent West African populations, but he recognized that its lower vault and frontal profile were unusual, and the mandible was robust (Figures 9 and 10). He also supplied cranial data for a Principal Components Analysis performed by Peter Andrews, and noted that this placed the specimen apart from recent African samples. Stringer included measurements of the original Iwo Eleru cranium in univariate and multivariate (Canonical Variates, Generalised Distance) analyses for his doctoral thesis, completed in 1974 (Stringer 1974a). Coefficients of separate determination in a cranial analysis using 17 of Howells’ measures showed that the main discriminators from the Upper Palaeolithics were low frontal subtense, low vertex radius, high cranial breadth, high bifrontal breadth, high cranial length and low parietal subtense, against Neanderthals they were primarily low supraorbital projection, low frontal fraction, high parietal chord, high frontal chord, low frontal subtense and low vertex radius, while against Zhoukoudian Homo erectus they were low supraorbital projection, high parietal chord, high bifrontal breadth, high vertex radius, high frontal chord and low frontal subtense.

Figure 9; Iwo Eleru cranium: left lateral view.

Overall it appeared that the cranium was “modern” in its low supraorbital projection, and long frontal and parietal chords, but “archaic” in its high cranial length, low vertex radius, and low frontal and parietal subtenses. Stringer’s results highlighted apparent archaic aspects in the specimen in its long and rather low cranial shape, and although modern overall, it also resembled fossils such as Omo Kibish 2 and Ngandong in several respects, falling closer to them than to Upper Palaeolithic and recent samples in some analyses (Figure11: after summary diagram in Stringer 1974b).

Figure 10: Iwo Eleru mandible: left lateral view.

Cohuna Upper Palaeolithic

Classic Neanderthal

Amud

Djebel Irhoud

Skhul 5

Iwo Eleru

Krapina C Omo 1 Saccopastore Steinheim

Swanscombe

Omo 2

Broken Hill Solo

Pekin

Petralona

Figure 11: Comparative analysis of Iwo Eleru cranium (after Stringer 1974b). 38

The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria

a Figure 12 a

b

Figure 12 a and b. Coordinates of neurocranial osteometric landmarks. A new geometric morphometric study of the cranial configurations in specimen space (Rohlf and Marcus, vault 1993; Figure 12 b O’Higgins, 2000; Harvati, 2003a,b; Harvati et al., 2007). Geometric morphometrics also readily account for Recently a primary replica of the cranial vault of the size correction and provide a way of quantifying shape Iwo Eleru specimen, produced before its return to variability of traits which are difficult to measure with Nigeria, was digitized by Harvati and included in a 3-D conventional measurements and are therefore usually geometric morphometric multivariate statistical analysis. described qualitatively (Harvati, 2003a; Nicholson and Comparisons of Stringer’s measurements on the original Harvati, 2006, Gunz and Harvati, 2007). The geometric and the replica show a maximum discrepancy of 1 mm, morphometric study of the Iwo Eleru specimen included suggesting that the replica accurately reflects the original curve (semilandmark) as well as landmark data. Thus the shape of the cranium. The goal of this study was to analysis quantifies not only overall cranial shape, which evaluate the cranial shape and size of this specimen in is also reflected by traditional measurements, but also the the context of Middle and Late Pleistocene and Holocene detailed shape of particular anatomical regions, such as the human morphological variation in order to further assess supraorbital morphology. its affinities and phylogenetic/population relationships. Data were collected in the form of three-dimensional Geometric morphometric approaches are complementary coordinates of neurocranial osteometric landmarks, defined to and expand on traditional multivariate analyses based as homologous points that can be reliably and repeatedly on linear and angular measurements, such as those located, using a Microscribe (Immersion Corp., 1998) conducted by Stringer. These coordinate-based methods portable digitizer. Landmarks along the midsagittal profile better preserve the geometry of the objects studied from glabella to inion, along the coronal and lambdoid and allow intuitive visualization of shape differences sutures, and along the upper margin of the supraorbital between either individual specimens or group mean shape torus were also registered (Figure 12). The points along 39

Figure 13 West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 13: Position of Iwo Eleru cranium as determined by Harvati (present study).

these outlines were automatically resampled to yield the same semilandmark count on every specimen (Bookstein, 1997; see also Gunz and Harvati, 2007). These points were chosen so as to reflect the neurocranial morphology of the Iwo Eleru specimen as fully as possible. Semilandmarks were ‘slid’ in Mathematica (Wolfram Research, Inc., 2007) using routines developed by Philipp Gunz and Philipp Mitteroecker (see also Gunz and Harvati, 2007; Harvati et al., 2007). Finally, landmarks and slid semilandmarks were superimposed with Generalized Procrustes Analysis (GPA) using the Morpheus software package (Slice, 1998). The superimposed coordinates were then analyzed statistically using principal components analysis (PCA), canonical variates analysis, Procrustes distances, and Mahalanobis squared distances. These statistics were calculated with the software packages SAS (SAS Institute, 1999-2001), NTSys (Applied Biostatistics Inc., 19862000), and TPSsmall (version 1.20; Rohlf, 2003).

while overall modern, appears to retain important archaic elements in its morphology that align it with specimens of early modern and late archaic humans. These retentions are evident both in the results of the statistical analysis as well as in the visualization of Iwo Eleru’s cranial shape in comparison with the mean shapes of the various groups included in the analysis. A complete description of the 3-D analysis and its findings is currently being prepared for publication. Acknowledgements The authors would like to thank Professor Thurstan Shaw and Steve Daniels for their readiness to discuss the findings from Iwo Eleru, and also Joel Vanderburg and Doig Simmonds for their recollections of the dig and their provision of illustrative material. References

The comparative sample for this analysis comprised forty-seven Pleistocene adult human fossils from Africa and Eurasia, including specimens attributed to Homo heidelbergensis, Neanderthals, early anatomically modern humans and Upper Paleolithic modern humans. It also included two hundred and forty two recent human crania representing nine broad geographic groups, including Africans.

Applied Biostatistics Inc. 1986-2000. NTSYSpc, Version 2.10t. Applied Biostatistics Inc. Bookstein, F.L. 1997. Landmark methods for forms without landmarks: Morphometrics of group differences in outline shape. Medical Image Analysis, 1(3): 225-243. Brothwell, D., T. Shaw. 1971. A Late Upper Pleistocene Proto-West African Negro from Nigeria. Man, (new series), 6 (2): 221-227. Casey, J. 2003. The Archaeology of West Africa from the Pleistocene to the Mid-Holocene. In ed. J. Mercader,

The preliminary results of this reanalysis (Figure 13) largely concur with the findings of Stringer (1974a). Iwo Eleru, 40

The archaeological context of the Iwo Eleru cranium from Nigeria Under the Canopy: The Archaeology of Tropical Rain Forests, 35-63. Rutgers University Press, New Jersey. Cornelissen, E. 2003. On Microlithic Quartz Industries at the End of the Pleistocene in Central Africa: The Evidence From Shum Laka (NW Cameroon). African Archaeological Review, 20(1): 1-24. DeMenocal, P., J. Ortiz, T. Guilderson, J. Adkins, M. Sarnthein, L. Baker, M. Yarusinsky. 2000. Abrupt onset and termination of the African Humid Period: rapid climate responses to gradual insolation forcing. Quaternary Science Reviews, 19: 347-361. Dupont, L.M., S. Jahns, F. Marret, S. Ning. 2000. Vegetation change in equatorial West Africa: time-slices for the last 150 ka. Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatology, Palaeoecology, 155: 95-122. Gunz, P., K. Harvati. 2007. The Neanderthal “chignon”: Variation, integration and homology. Journal of Human Evolution, 52: 262-274. Gwin, P. 2008. Lost Tribes of the Green Sahara. National Geographic, 214(3): 126-143. Harvati, K. 2003a. Quantitative analysis of Neanderthal temporal bone morphology using 3-D geometric morphometrics. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 120: 323-338. Harvati K. 2003b. The Neanderthal taxonomic position: models of intra- and inter-specific morphological variation. Journal of Human Evolution, 44:107-132. Harvati, K., P. Gunz, D. Grigorescu. 2007. Cioclovina (Romania): Morphological affinities of an early modern European. Journal of Human Evolution, 53: 732-746. Huysecom, E., A. Mayor, S. Ozainne, M. Rasse, K. Schaer, S. Soriano. 2004a. Ounjougou: plus de 100,000 ans d’histoire en pays dogon (Mali). Archäologie der Schweiz, 27(3): 2-13. Huysecom, E., S. Ozainne, F. Raeli, A. Ballouche, M. Rasse, S. Stokes. 2004b. Ounjougou (Mali): A history of Holocene settlement at the southern edge of the Sahara. Antiquity, 78 (301): 579-593. Huysecom, E., M. Rasse, L. Lespez, K. Neumann, A. Fahmy, A. Ballouche, S. Ozainne, M. Maggetti, Ch. Tribolo, S. Soriano. 2009. The emergence of pottery in Africa during the tenth millennium cal BC: new evidence from Ounjougou (Mali). Antiquity, 83: 905917. Immersion Corp. 1998. Microscribe 3D User’s Guide. Immersion Corporation, San Jose, CA. Lavachery, P. 2001. The Holocene Archaeological Sequence of Shum Laka Rock Shelter (Grassfields, Western Cameroon). African Archaeological Review, 18(4): 213-247. Lavachery, P., E. Cornelissen, J. Moeyersons, P. de Maret. 1996. 30,000 ans d’occupation, 6 mois de fouilles: Shum Laka, un site exceptionnel en Afrique centrale. Anthropologie et Préhistoire, 107: 197-211. Leblanc, M., G. Favreau, J. Maley, Y. Nazoumou, C. Leduc, F. Stagnitti, P.J. van Oevelen, F. Delclaux, J. Lemoalle. 2006. Reconstruction of Megalake Chad using Shuttle Radar Topographic Mission data. 2006. Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatology, Palaeoecology,

239: 16-27. Lézine, A-M., J-P. Cazet. 2005. High-resolution pollen record from core KW31, Gulf of Guinea, documents the history of the lowland forests of West Equatorial Africa since 40,000 yr ago. Quaternary Research, 64: 432-443. MacDonald, K.C. 1997. Korounkorokalė Revisited: The Pays Mande and the West African Microlithic Technocomplex. African Archaeological Review, 14: 161-200. Moeyersons, J. 1997. Geomorphological processes and their palaeoenvironmental significance at the Shum Laka cave (Bamenda, western Cameroon). Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatology, Palaeoecology, 133: 103-116. Nicholson E. and Harvati K. 2006. Quantitative Analysis of Human Mandibular Shape Using 3-D Geometric Morphometrics. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 131:368-383. O’Higgins, P. 2000. The study of morphological variation in the hominid fossil record: Biology, landmarks and geometry. Journal of Anatomy, 197: 103-120. Orban, R., I. Ribot, S. Fenaux, P. de Maret. 1996. Les restes humains de Shum Laka (Cameroun, LSA – Âge du Fer). Anthropologie et Préhistoire, 107: 213-225. Quickert, N.A., D.I. Godfrey-Smith, J.L. Casey. 2003. Optical and thermo-luminescence dating of Middle Stone Age and Kintampo bearing sediments at Birimi, a multi-component archaeological site in Ghana. Quaternary Science Reviews, 22: 1291-1297. Rasse, M., S. Soriano, C. Tribolo, S. Stokes, E. Huysecom. 2004. La séquence Pléistocène Supérieur d’Ounjougou (Pays Dogon, Mali, Afrique de l’Ouest): Évolution géomorphologique, enregistrements sédimentaires, et changements culturels. Quaternaire, 15(4): 329-341. Raeli, F., E. Huysecom. 2001. Nouvelles hypothèses sur le peuplement de l’Afrique de l’Ouest au 8ème millénaire av. J.-C.: Apport du gisement d’Ounjougou (Mali). In: ed. Y. Droz, A. Mayor, L. Roost Vischer, C. Thévoz, Partenariats Nord-Sud Forschungs-partnerschaften, Werkschau Afrikastudien 3, LIT Verlag, Münster: 305321. Ribot, I., R. Orban, P. de Maret. 2001. The prehistoric burials of Shum Laka rockshelter (North-West Cameroun). Musée Royal de l’Afrique Centrale, Tervuren, Belgique: Annales, Sciences Humaines: vol. 164. Rohlf, F.J. 2003. tpsSmall v. 1.20. Department of Ecology and Evolution, State University of New York, Stony Brook, New York. Rohlf, F.J., L. F. Marcus. 1993. A revolution in morphometrics. Trends in Ecology and Evolution, 8: 129-132. SAS Institute. 1999-2001. SAS System for Windows V8. The SAS Institute. Sereno, P.C., E.A.A. Garcea, H. Jousse, C.M. Stojanowski, J.M. Saliège, A. Maga, O.A. Ide, K.J. Knudson, A.M. Mercuri, T.W. Stafford, T.G. Kaye, C. Giraudi, I.M. N’siala, E. Cocca, H.M. Moots, D.B. Duthell, J.P.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Stivers. 2008. Lakeside Cemeteries in the Sahara: 5000 Years of Holocene Population and Environmental Change. PLoS ONE 3(8): e2995. doi: 10.1371/journal. pone.0002995. Shaw, T. 1978/79. Holocene Adaptations in West Africa: The Late Stone Age. Early Man News, 3/4, Tübingen: 51-82. Shaw, T. 1985. The prehistory of West Africa. In ed. J.F. Ade Ajayi and M. Crowder, History of West Africa, vol. 1, 3rd ed., Longmans: 48-86. Shaw, T., S.G.H. Daniels. 1984. Excavations at Iwo Eleru, Ondo State, Nigeria. West African Journal of Archaeology, volume 14.

Slice, D.E. 1998. Morpheus et al.: software for morphometric research. Revision 01-30-98. Department of Ecology and Evolution, State University of New York, Stony Brook, New York. Stringer, C. B. 1974a. A multivariate study of cranial variation in Middle and Upper Pleistocene human populations. Ph.D. thesis, University of Bristol Stringer, C.B. 1974b. Population relationships of later Pleistocene hominids: a multivariate study of available crania. Journal of Archaeological Science 1: 317‑342. Wolfram Research, Inc. 2007. Mathematica Edition, Version 6.0. Wolfram Research, Inc., Champaign, Illinois.

42

A developmental history for early West African agriculture Katie Manning

The Institute of Archaeology, University College London, 31-34 Gordon Square London WC1H 0PY [email protected]

Abstract The origins and spread of domesticated cereals in Africa remains poorly understood despite continued efforts. This is partly due to the perennial problem of insufficient research and poor conditions of preservation for plant and animal remains. But, there are also potentially very real reasons for why early domestication continues to elude the archaeological record in West Africa. This paper provides a synthesis of recent research, including genetic, linguistic and archaeological data, to examine what is known, and perhaps what cannot be known, about agricultural development in West Africa. Particular attention is given to the initial spread of domestic pearl millet (Pennisetum glaucum), which appears to have been the key, if not the only, crop being cultivated throughout the Sahelian regions of West Africa between 3000 and 1000 BC. It is argued here that the apparent monocropping of early agricultural systems reflects broad environmental circumstances and deep time cultural trajectories of the region. Furthermore, on the basis of recent evidence from the Lower Tilemsi Valley, it is argued that pearl millet cultivation originated further north in the western Sahara and likely predates the earliest presently known finds by at least 1000 years. Evidence from sub-Sahelian regions of West Africa demonstrates that a greater diversity of crops came into use during the 2nd millennium BC. The identification of pearl millet as the earliest domestic crop in this region supports prior hypotheses advocating a northern origin for the agro-pastoral occupation of sub-Sahelian West Africa, leading to a “knock-on” effect of local domestication events. Key Words West Africa, plant domestication, agriculture, neolithisation, mobility

Introduction

Agricultural modelling in an African context

The emergence of agriculture and the transition from foraging to farming represents one of the most important events in human history. While a recent surge in data collection in some parts of the world has led to increasing awareness of regional variability, and greater appreciation for the bearings of climatic and environmental circumstance (Colledge et al., 2004; Vigne 2008), the process of “neolithisation”, particularly in the Near East and Europe, is still, for the most part, embedded in the shift to agriculture. Here, there is evident co-evolution of plant cultivation and livestock keeping alongside increasing socio-technological change, and whilst this event is clearly characterised by internal diversification, at a broad temporal and geographic scale we can still talk of a “Neolithic transition” (Childe 1936). The evidence from Africa, meanwhile, presents a very different picture. In particular, cereal agriculture appears to be a relatively late phenomenon; the data indicating more than a 3000 year lag between the initial appearance of domesticated animals in the eastern Sahara and the first signs of domestic crops along the western fringes of the Sahara-Sahel borderlands, and even later in Ethiopia. Indeed, the domestication of plants and animals, the emergence of ceramic technology, and the urbanisation of landscapes do not appear synchronously as one package, negating the concept of “neolithisation” as it is used in the Near East and Europe. As noted by Casey (2005, 225) ‘What is being missed in this rush to “neolithicize” the Holocene is the opportunity to investigate a lifeway in which the management of domesticated resources is only one of many options’.

Modelling the evolution of agricultural economies in Africa demands a more critical understanding of the data. One approach that has become increasingly central to the debate is ethnobotany, i.e. the use of anthropological data to characterise the broad diversity in current food production strategies. Neumann (2005, 249) notes that agricultural practices in Africa tend to cover a vast ‘middle ground’ between hunting and gathering, on the one hand, to intensive agriculture on the other. Greater awareness of traditional land-use systems has led to the terms ‘cultivation’, and ‘intensification’, gaining much support (Haaland 1999; Stahl 1993). Unfortunately, cultivation is almost impossible to identify archaeologically, and instead we have to rely on ethnographic analogy and indirect evidence in order to infer cultivation practices. Nonetheless, it is worth considering the social impact that cultivation may have had on populations who perhaps had little need to domesticate cereals to the point of morphologically changing their size and shape. It is important to bear in mind that lack of domestication i.e. the production of genetic change in plant species, does not negate cultivation, and that various factors may have actually countered the domestication process. High levels of mobility, for example, made necessary by increasingly unpredictable environments or demographic constraints (cf. Marshall and Hildebrand 2002) may, as suggested below, have limited the morphological or physiological changes associated with domestication. Instead, as suggested by Barich (1998), the systematic exploitation and necessary preparation skills of wild cereals would have necessitated 43

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 1: Sites mentioned in the text: 1= Lower Tilemsi Valley sites (Karkarichinkat Nord (KN05), Karkarichinkat Sud (KS), Ebelelit (EB07), Tiboubija (TB07), Er Negf (EN07), Tin Alhar (TA07) and Jsmagamag (JS07)), 2= Dhar Tichitt and Dhar Néma, 3= Windé Koroji Ouest, 4=Ounjougou, 5=Birimi, 6=Boase sites, 7=Bwambé Sommet, 8=Abang Minko’o, 9=Ti-n-Akof, 10=Gajiganna, 11=Waladé, 12=Cubalel. Areas of purported pearl millet domestication: 1 [circled] after Tostain (1998), and 2 [circled] after Oumar et al. (2008) regional sharing and exchange of information, providing a framework for later agro-pastoral developments. Such activities would have played an essential role in what she terms ‘pre-adaptive strategies’ (Barich 1998, 38).

forest cover in sub-Sahelian Africa supported low density Holocene populations. Archaeobotanical evidence dating to before 3000 BC is therefore extremely rare, providing little evidence of pre-existing socio-economic strategies. Instead, the pre-existing conditions for West African food production appear to be rooted in the developed pastoral strategies found along the Sahara-Sahel borderlands. As noted by Tafuri et al. (2006, 392), increased mobility levels, prompted by increasing aridity would have included exchanges between groups as a further adaptive strategy, generating broad areas of interaction and herding territories that acted as an apposite vehicle for the spread of plant and animal domesticates.

Nonetheless, while investigations into the pre-adaptive conditions for agriculture (Clarke 1976) are clearly of importance, the context of agricultural development in West Africa is quite different to that which is found in the Nile Valley and eastern Sahara. The early to midHolocene occupation of the central and western Sahara is comparatively ephemeral, leaving little archaeological trace. Equally, the hydrology of the Niger delta and dense

44

A developmental history for early West African agriculture The primacy of herding and environmental context of early African food production

Baradigiué in the Tibesti at around 6300 BC (7455±180 bp) (Gautier 1987b), and at Adrar Bous in the Ténéré desert of Niger (Clark et al. 2008), where they have been dated between 4130 and 3400 BC (6325±300 bp).

Set against increasing aridification, climatic conditions in Africa became significantly more erratic during the 5th and 4th millennia BC. Between 3000 and 2000 BC, conditions rapidly deteriorated leading to a distinct dry episode happening around 2200/2000 BC marking the end of the Holocene humid phase and the onset of current arid conditions (Maley 1977, 1980, 1982; Lézine 1991). Whilst these environmental dynamics are likely to have played a central role in the establishment of socio-economic change (McIntosh 1993), they also posed critical barriers to the southward expansion of domesticated resources, supporting what has been referred to as the ‘cattle before crops’ model for early African food production (Marshall and Hildebrand 2002).

After 2500 BC deterioration of conditions in the Sahara and southward shift in the position of the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone prompted the movement of domesticated livestock into Sub-Saharan West Africa. Prior to this, much of the Inland Niger Delta was then a vast swamp, uninhabitable for pastoral groups due to a lack of suitable grazing land, and profusion of associated disease vectors such as Malaria and Trypanosomiasis. These climatic and environmental changes prompted significant population movement. This is seen in areas such as the Tilemsi palaeochannel, which would have provided a virtual corridor for populations moving southwards (Gaussen and Gaussen 1988; Manning 2008). Along with aspects of a broadly shared Saharan material culture, the inhabitants of the Tilemsi Valley also brought with them domestic livestock, including cattle, sheep and goat, and domestic pearl millet (Pennisetum glaucum). During the 2nd millennium BC, the ancient floodplain of the Méma region in central Mali also underwent a major infiltration of people demonstrating cultural affiliations with traditions from the North (MacDonald 1994, 112). The Kobadi Tradition, dated to c. 2000 BC has physical and material cultural roots to the northeast at Hassi el Abiod (Raimbault and Dutour 1989), while the later Ndondi Tossokel Tradition clearly derives from the Chebka/Arianne assemblages from Dhar Tichitt. Although evidence for cultivation is present at Dhar Néma by c. 1700 BC (Fuller et al. 2007), no evidence for domesticated cereals has yet been found in the Holocene occupation of the Méma. This is likely a result of the local hydrological conditions, which would have provided suitable grazing territories on the periphery of the inundated plain, but little in the way of agricultural ground.

Domesticated cattle are present in North Africa by at least the mid-6th millennium BC, although Close (1987, 2001) and Wendorf (Close and Wendorf, 1992; Wendorf et al., 1984, 2001; Wendorf and Schild, 1980) argue for domestic cattle in the eastern Sahara at Bir Kiseiba by c. 9300 BC (9840±380 bp) and Nabta Playa by c. 8000 BC. The claim for these being domestic cattle is argued primarily on ecological grounds i.e. that in light of the associated fauna, conditions would have been too dry to support wild cattle populations (Close and Wendorf 1992, 64). However in osteometric terms it has not been possible to conclusively distinguish between them being domestic or wild (Smith 1986). Furthermore, the earliest dated remains came from surface collections at the site of Nabta Playa E-79-8 and most researchers today tend to view these remains with some scepticism. To add to this debate, it now appears as though cattle were domesticated independently in Africa rather than being imported from the Middle East, strengthening the case for an independent and earlier domestication event in Africa. Grigson (1991, 2000) first hypothesised a common domestic progenitor for modern African cattle derived from a distinct form of African auroch (B. primigenius mauritanicus) that was separate from both the wild aurochs of Europe (B. primigenius primigenius) and traditional Asian zebu stocks (B. primigenius namadicus). Recent work on mitochondrial DNA also demonstrates a divergence in the wild cattle of Europe and Africa dating back as early as 22,000 years ago (Loftus et al. 1994; Bradley and Loftus 2000).

Lines of evidence for the origins of domestication The reconstruction of Africa’s agricultural past demands a multi-disciplinary approach. Although the recovery of welldated archaeological plant remains is a valuable source of information in the study of early agriculture, much of what is known today about the geographical origins of African crops has been obtained from living plant communities and historical linguistics. Vavilov (1926) pioneered much of this work in Africa, suggesting the East African highlands as the potential cradle of agriculture based on the living diversity of cultivated plants. Vavilov’s theory has since lost much support as it has become apparent that a crop’s diversity does not necessarily mirror its area of origin. More recently, Harlan (1971, 1992) mapped the geographic origins for ten of Africa’s crops according to the distribution of their wild relatives. He proposed a theory of ‘non-centred domestication’ whereby the hypothetical domestication areas were very large and rarely overlapped. For pearl millet (which together with sorghum is today a staple crop in sub-Saharan Africa and

At the site of Nabta Playa E-75-6 a date of 7200 BC (8290±80 bp) is more widely accepted for domestic cattle in the eastern Sahara (Gautier 1984). From here, domestication appears to have spread westwards across the Sahara and southwards along the Nile Valley. The westward trend can be observed in the occupation of the Hoggar, the Tassili, Libya at Ti-n-Torah, Uan Muhuggiag, Murzuq and Ti-n-Hanakaten (Gautier and Van Neer 1982; Aumassip 1986; Aumassip and Tauveron 1993), southern Algeria at Meneit (Gautier 1987a) and Adrar Tiouyine, and in Niger at Arlit, Adrar Bous, and Tamaya Mellet (Clark et al. 2008; Smith 1980). Cattle are present at Gabrong and

45

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives parts of India) Harlan identified the western Sahara as a centre for domestication.

millennium BC (Kevin MacDonald, pers. comm.) and at Birimi in northern Ghana (D’Andrea et al. 2001) dating to the same period. Fully domesticated pearl millet, which is a native African crop, is also found in India in the late 3rd millennium BC, highlighting the obvious gaps in our knowledge of early pearl millet agriculture. Was millet being domesticated simultaneously in more than one area? Or do we need to look further back in time for a northern centre of domestication predating these finds?

Harlan’s work has since gained support from genetic evidence. Tostain (1998), for example, undertook isozyme surveys of wild populations and domesticated varieties of pearl millet, identifying enzyme similarity datasets favouring southeast Mauritania as a centre for domestication and/or a stretch from northeast Mali to Lake Chad (see Fuller 2003; Oumar et al. 2008). Recent work in the Lower Tilemsi Valley (Manning et al., in press) lends considerable support to these findings (see below).

Recent work in the Lower Tilemsi Valley provides new evidence for the timing and process of pearl millet domestication (Manning 2008, Manning et al., in press). In the early 1970’s Andrew Smith (1974) undertook excavations at the sites of Karkarichinkat Nord (KN) and Karkarichinkat Sud (KS), identifying impressions of domestic pearl millet on surface material at KS (Smith 1992, 74). As noted by Neumann (2005, 259), however, the provenance of these samples is compromised and, in effect, they contribute little to our understanding of the earliest history of this cereal.

Another important source of information used in the reconstruction of Africa’s agrarian history, comes in the form of historical linguistics, defined as the analysis of the relationship between languages, in particular those assumed to be genetically related and to have ‘sprung from some common source’ (Blench 2007). While linguistics have proved successful in establishing secure reconstructions for domestic animals (see Blench and MacDonald 2000), they have proved to be more problematic for the major African cultigens. Nonetheless, the names of some cultivated plants found in the Benue-Congo languages of Nigeria also have Bantu reflexes indicating a West African origin for their domestication (Blench 1996, 2007).

In 2005 renewed excavations began in the Lower Tilemsi with the aim to refine the chronology, and investigate the emergence of agro-pastoral communities in this region. Extensive excavations were undertaken at Karkarichinkat Nord (KN05) whilst the southern site proved to be unworkable due to the unconsolidated nature of the deposit. A survey was undertaken of the Karkarichinkat hinterland, covering approximately 20x20km, in which 86 multi-period sites were identified. On the basis of surface material, and shovel testing to assess the stratigraphic integrity, five of the large occupation mounds were chosen for subsequent test excavation. These were Ebelelit (EB07), Tiboubija (TB07), Tin Alhar (TA07), Er Negf (EN07) and Jsmagamag (JS07-1 and JS07-2). In addition to sampling for macro plant remains on site, analysis of the pottery assemblages from the sites of EB07, EN07 and JS07-2 , all dating to between 2500 and 2000 BC, revealed that a large number of sherds were tempered with chaff. Casts of the chaff impressions from a sub-sample of these assemblages revealed that pearl millet was the predominant species. Furthermore, eight involucre base impressions with preserved rachis fragments were identified indicating the stalked, non-dehiscient morphotype of the domesticate. Only one possible wild type involucre base was noted, although this remains somewhat ambiguous. Although the sample size is small, it suggests the predominance of the domesticated form (i.e. 89% of preserved rachis remains). Direct dating of these sherds as well as a single grain of indeterminate Pennisetum from Karkarichinkat Nord, all produced dates in the later half of the Third Millennium BC, mainly between 2500 and 2000 BC (Table 1). Based on the evidence from other cereals, that non-shattering evolved gradually, over about 1000-2000 years (Fuller 2007; Fuller et al. 2009; Fuller and Allaby 2010), it can be inferred that cultivation began perhaps in the 4th Millennium BC. It is important to note that at the sites where domestic pearl millet has been identified in the Lower Tilemsi valley, it is present from the initial occupation levels, implying that

The following section looks in detail at current lines of evidence for select domestic cereals, namely pearl millet (Pennisetum glaucum), cowpea (Vigna unguiculata) and fonio (Digitaria sp.) in West Africa. Although, a full review of African agriculture is beyond the scope of this paper, it is also worth noting a number of plant resources domesticated outside of the West African range. In particular, Harlan (1971) highlights Ethiopia as a centre for the domestication of Enset (Musa ensete and Guizotiv abyssinica), Teff (Eragrostis tef) and Finger Millet (Eleusine corocana). The origin of domesticated Sorghum (Sorghum bicolor), meanwhile, has proved difficult in pinning down, with Harlan proposing a broad east-west range between eastern Sudan and Lake Chad. Pearl millet (Pennisetum glaucum) Pearl millet is a staple cereal of sub-Saharan Africa and parts of India, where it is tolerant of the drier Sahelian/ semi-desert zones as well as Savanna regions (Brunken 1977; Brunken et al. 1977; Harlan 1992; Tostain 1998). It is the only African cereal for which existing archaeobotanical evidence is adequate, and much of what is known today about early agricultural developments in West Africa has to do with the domestication and spread of pearl millet. Following Harlan (1992) and Tostain (1998) it is perhaps not surprising that we find the earliest evidence for morphologically confirmed domesticates on the southern fringes of the western Sahara, at Dhar Tichitt around 1800 BC (Amblard and Pernès 1989) and in the Lower Tilemsi Valley by at least 2000 BC (Smith 1992, 74, Manning 2008, Manning et al., in press). Domesticated pearl millet has also been identified south of the river Niger at Windé Koroji Ouest, dating to the early 2nd

46

A developmental history for early West African agriculture

Lab ref.

Site

Material

Crop

Domestic status

Date bp

Reference

OxA-16919

Karkarichinkat Nord

Grain

Pennisetum sp.

Indet.

4011±33

Manning et al., in press

OxA-X-2264-14

Ebelelit

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3687±30

Manning et al., in press

OxA-X-2287-26

Er Negf

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3782±28

Manning et al., in press

OxA-X-2287-27

Er Negf

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3980±31

Manning et al., in press

OxA-X-2287-29

Jsmagamag (2)

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3604±30

Manning et al., in press

OxA-X-2287-28

Jsmagamag (2)

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum sp.

Indet.

4121±31

Manning et al., in press

GX-29359-AMS

Djiganyai

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3370±40

Fuller et al. 2007

GX-28140

Djiganyai

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3260±40

Fuller et al. 2007

Erl-9196

Ounjougou

Grain

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3416±109

Ozainne et al. 2009

Pa-1157

Dhar Tichitt

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3500±100

Amblard 1996

Pa-1299

Dhar Tichitt

Ceramic temper

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3420±120

Amblard 1996

TO-8172

Birimi

Grain

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

3460±200

D’Andrea et al. 2001

TO-8173

Birimi

Grain

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

2960±370

D’Andrea et al. 2001

TO-11883

Boase sites

Grain

Vigna unguiculata

Domestic

3410±60

D’Andrea et al., 2007

Utc-4906

Ti-n-Akof

Grain

Pennisetum glaucum

Domestic

2840±49

Neumann 1999

Table 1: AMS dates for 3rd millennium and 2nd millennium BC finds of domestic pearl millet (Pennisetum glaucum) and cowpea (Vigna unguiculata)

(Murray et al. 2007) in Senegal and by the mid to late 1st Millennium BC it had penetrated the Central African forest being present at the sites of Bwambé-Sommet and Abang Minko’o in southern Cameroun (Kahlheber et al. 2009).

the incoming population brought with them an established economic suite, including domesticated millet, cattle and ovicaprines. Finds of domestic millet from the first half of the 2nd millennium BC are widely spread across West Africa, including Mauritania (Amblard and Pernes 1989; Fuller et al 2007), Mali (MacDonald 1996), Ghana (D’Andrea et al. 2001; D’Andrea et al. 2006), Oursi and Ti-n-Akof in Burkina Faso (Kahlheber et al. 2001; Neumann 1999) and Gajiganna in Nigeria (Klee et al. 2004). Already by the end of the 3rd Millennium BC, pearl millet had reached India. Even if we are to assume that pearl millet was domesticated some time before its initial appearance in the archaeological record its early occurrence in India suggests that it spread rapidly eastwards across Africa in regions that as yet have been undocumented by archaeobotany (Fuller 2003), such as the northern savannas of Niger, Chad and Sudan. By the 1st millennium BC, domestic pearl millet is found at Waladé (Dorian Fuller, pers. comm.) and Cubalel

Fonio (Digitaria exilis) Fonio remains one of the more elusive African crops, both archaeologically speaking and in regard to its present day status. Despite being cultivated throughout much of West Africa, and considered to be one of the earliest cereal domesticates (see http://inco-fonio-en.cirad.fr/), archaeobotanical remains are extremely rare. Fonio has been identified at the site of Kolima Sud Est dating to c. 850 BC, and is argued to be domestic on the grounds of size diminution (Takezawa and Cissé 2004). Otherwise, the only other reliable finds of domesticated fonio come from Cubalel in Senegal, dating to c. AD 500 (Murray et al. 2007). Its current distribution, which is fairly fragmented between Guinea and Lake Chad (Chevalier 1922; Portères 47

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives 1955; Hilu et al. 1997), suggests that it was once spread over a much wider area that has since been taken over by higher yielding crops such as millet and sorghum. Equally, the linguistic evidence indicates an ancient origin (Blench 2007). Certain linguistic isolates for the word fonio suggest the crop was cut off from the main zone of cultivation at an early period (Portères 1955, 1976; Burkill 1994, 226). However, we have a long way to go before any conclusions can be drawn on the early history of fonio cultivation.

seasonally based economic regime involving residential mobility and food storage, characterising the Kintampo as “low level food producers with domesticates” (D’Andrea et al. 2007: 694). Whilst previously it was thought that the Kintampo were adapted to the forest-savanna ecotone (e.g. Davies 1962; Flight 1976; Posnansky 1984) a number of Kintampo sites are now known from the southern forest of modern Ghana, indicating socio-economic adaptation to the forest/savanna boundary.

Cowpea (Vigna unguiculata var. unguiculata)

The key to what role domestic resources played in Kintampo society, therefore, lies in the adaptive potential of early West African agro-pastoral strategies. In particular, the socio-economic adaptations of Kintampo people appear to have been heavily influenced by the prevailing ecological conditions of the southern savanna/ forests (Watson 2005), leading to a shift in the importance of domestic resources and a relatively greater exploitation of available wild resources. Indeed, such malleable socioeconomic strategies continue to prevail amongst modern savanna/forest populations, demonstrating fundamental ecological and climatic influences on regional food production strategies. It is these ecological restraints that appear to negate the primacy of cereal agriculture in the African process of “neolithisation”, and more generally speaking, in the diversification of African subsistence regimes. As noted by Marshall and Hildebrand (2002), it is likely that predictability in access to resources prevailed over absolute abundance, leading to a prioritization of domestic animals in the context of North Africa and the Sahara-Sahel borderlands. Further south, continuity in the exploitation of wild resources and gradual development of indigenous savanna agriculture would have also ensured predictability in an area where wild comestibles were in abundance.

Recent discoveries of domestic cowpea in association with Kintampo deposits dating to c. 1700 BC in central Ghana (D’Andrea et al. 2007) provide a critical clue to the domestication process in this part of West Africa. Cowpeas are one of the most important food legume crops in the semi-arid tropics of Africa. They are a droughttolerant and warm-weather crop, and are also shaderesistant making them today a good intercrop with maize, millet and sorghum. The absence of a wild progenitor outside Africa indicates that cowpea was domesticated somewhere on the African continent. Phylogenetic studies and linguistic evidence indicate tropical West Africa to be the point of origin (Coulibaly et al. 2002; Blench 1996). It is, therefore, intriguing that the finds from central Ghana, which correlate well with the genetic and linguistic data, are broadly contemporary with the pearl millet finds from Birimi. Sub-Sahelian package

adaptations

of

the

agro-pastoral

Today, theoretical debates surrounding Kintampo origins are vehemently divided between diffusionist and migrationist models (cf. Davies 1980; Posnansky 1984; Stahl 1985, 1993, 2005; Watson 2005). Davies (1980), and more recently Watson (2005) have suggested that the Kintampo complex represents a migration of northern Sahelian populations ultimately derived from Saharan groups. Watson (2005) cites fundamental technological and stylistic differences between the Kintampo tradition and preceding Punpun ceramics, representing a distinct discontinuity signalled by the appearance of the Kintampo tradition between 1600 and 1200 BC. In contrast, Stahl has argued for an in situ development of the Kintampo complex (Stahl 1985, 1993) claiming for a syncretic evolution of Kintampo cultural traits based on evidence from the rockshelter site K6. Stahl’s excavation area however is relatively small in contrast to the work undertaken by Watson (2005) at the nearby Boase rockshelter sites. Striking similarities in aspects of the Kintampo material culture with traits from northern Sahelian regions, namely ground stone hachettes, labrets, grooved stones, stone rings and cord based roulettes, further support a hypothesis advocating a northern origin. Domesticated resources, ultimately derived from further north, were also introduced alongside the Kintampo, including sheep, goat, cattle and pearl millet. However, the role of domestic cereals within the Kintampo economic regime is far from being uniform. Wild and domestic comestibles were integrated within a

Discussion A major obstacle in the study of agricultural development in West Africa is that little is still known about how migrations worked in the past and, more importantly, how they would be represented in the archaeological record. Traditionally, this process of population movement has been seen as happening gradually. Ammerman and CavalliSforza (1973) estimated that the rate of spread of farmers in Europe would have been 15 km per generation. If this rate were applied to the West African savanna/Sahel, we could expect a southward progression covering over 1500 years, which does not appear to have been the case. Instead, the spread of pearl millet was rapid, covering over 1000 km in less than 500 years. Hassan (2000) offers an alternative rate of migration in regard to the movement of pastoral groups in Africa, which he describes as being more of a ‘leap-frog’ movement rather than an advancing ‘wave’ of peoples (Hassan 2000, 74). His model, which takes into consideration both the mosaic-like and unpredictable environment of the African Holocene, predicts that small groups, probably either single families or groups of families, could have travelled a distance of up to 5000 km in 500 years if they only travelled 10 km per year.

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A developmental history for early West African agriculture and Related Studies, 421-427. Harare, University of Zimbabwe Publications. Amblard, S. and J. Pernes. 1989. The identification of cultivated pearl millet (Pennisetum) amongst plant impressions on pottery from Oued Chebbi (Dhar Oualata, Mauritania). African Archaeological Review 7,117-126. Ammerman, A. J. and Cavalli-Sforza, L. L. 1973. A population model for the diffusion of early farming in Europe. In Renfrew, C. (ed.) The Explanation of Culture Change: Models in Prehistory. London, Duckworth, 343-358. Aumassip. G. 1986. Le Bas-Sahara dans la préhistoire. Paris: Editions du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique. Aumassip, G. and Tauveron, M. 1993. Le Sahara central à l’Holocène. In G. Calegari (ed.) L’arte et l’ambiente del Sahara prehistorico: dati et interpretazioni. Milan, Memorie della Società Italiana di Scienze Naturali e del Museo Civico di Storia Naturale di Milano 26. Barich, B. E. 1998. People, water and grain: the beginnings of domestication in the Sahara and the Nile valley. Roma, L'Erma di Bretschneider. Blench, R. M. 1996. Linguistic Evidence for Cultivated Plants in the Bantu Borderland. Azania, 29/30: 83102. Blench, R. M. 2007. Using Linguistics to reconstruct African subsistence systems: Comparing crop names to trees and livestock. In T.P. Denham, J. Iriarte and L. Vrydaghs (eds.), Rethinking Agriculture: Archaeological and Ethnoarchaeological Perspectives, 598-644. California, Left Coast Press. Blench, R. M. and MacDonald, K. C. (eds.) 2000. The Origin and Development of African Livestock. London, University College Press. Bradley, D. and Loftus, R. 2000. Two Eves for taurus? Bovine mitochondrial DNA and African cattle domestication. In R.M. Blench and K.C. MacDonald (eds.) The Origin and Development of African Livestock: archaeology, linguistics, genetics, and ethnography. 244-250. London, University College London Press. Breunig, P. and Neumann, K. 2002. Continuity or discontinuity? The 1st Millennium BC crisis in West African prehistory. In Jennerstasse 8 (eds.), Tides of the desert-Gezeiten der Wüste. Contributions to the archaeology and environmental history of Africa in honour of Rudolph Kuper, 491-505. Cologne, Heinrich Barth Institut. Brunken, J. N. 1977. A systematic study of Pennisetum sect. Pennisetum (Graminae). American Journal of Botany 64, 161-175. Brunken, J., De Wet, J. M. J. and Harlan, J. R. 1977. The morphology and domestication of pearl millet. Economic Botany 31, 163-174. Burkill, H. M. 1994. The Useful Plants of West Tropical Africa, Families E-I. Kew, Royal Botanic Gardens. Casey, J. 2005. Holocene occupations of the forest and savanna. In A. B. Stahl (ed.), African Archaeology:

In the Lower Tilemsi Valley, Dhar Tichitt, Windé Koroji and at Kintampo complex sites, livestock were a key socio-economic resource, and would have almost certainly played an important role in the initial spread of associated domestic crops. In contrast to other parts of the world, pastoralism, in particular cattle pastoralism along with high levels of group mobility, appears to have been the catalyst for socio-economic change in Africa. That cultivation and eventual domestication occurred in tandem with the development and movement of pastoral groups is perhaps not surprising, and as the dates on domestic pearl millet keep on being pushed back along the SaharaSahel borderlands, we evidently need to look northwards, amongst the Holocene herders of the western Sahara for the origins of West African agriculture. Despite the overarching southward shift in agricultural practices, domesticated cereals in sub-Sahelian West Africa do not appear to have been integrated into pre-existing economies either uniformly or irrevocably. Although the Birimi deposits are dominated by pearl millet, suggesting rapid assimilation of the northern domesticate, this is in fact unusual for a Kintampo site. Further to the south Kintampo subsistence consisted primarily of tubers such as yam, as well as oil palm and cowpea (D’Andrea et al. 2001, 346). This diversity in subsistence choices across a single cultural complex raises interesting questions about the role of domestication in this context, indicating a divergence from the monocropping trend observed in northern Sahelian regions. At Gajiganna around Lake Chad and in northeastern Burkina Faso (Breunig and Neumann 2002), the status of pearl millet appears somewhat ambiguous. Although remains of domesticated millet have been dated to the mid-2nd millennium BC, its role within the wider economy is still poorly understood. In both regions, fully domesticated forms of pearl millet are present in the early levels of occupation, indicating an imported origin. But, over time, there is significant variability in the role this crop played. The continued importance of wild grasses negates any sort of deterministic model, suggesting that in some regions domestic forms may only have played a minor role in the wider economy. The linguistic data also points towards a gradual entry of domesticates into subsistence strategies. As noted by Blench (1996, 93) ‘The complex pattern of vernacular terms for crops in the ‘Bantu borderland’ suggests that the development of agriculture was a far from sudden process’. Clearly, a high degree of regionalisation is only beginning to be revealed as greater archaeobotanical datasets become available and communication improves between archaeologists, linguists and geneticists. References Amblard, S. 1996. Agricultural evidence and its interpretation on the Dhars Tichitt and Oualata, southeastern Mauritania. In G. Pwiti & R. Soper (eds.), Aspects of African Archaeology. Papers from the 10th Congress of the Pan-African Association for Prehistory

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives unguiculata) from Central Ghana. Antiquity 81, 313, 686-698. Flight, C. 1976. The Kintampo Culture and its place in the economic prehistory of West Africa. In J.R. Harlan, J.M.J. de Wet, and A.B.L. Stemler (eds.) The origins of African plant domestication, 211-222. The Hague, Mouton. Fuller, D. Q. 2003. African crops in prehistoric south Asia: A critical review. In K. Neumann and A. K. S. Butler (eds.), Food, fuel and fields: progress in African Archaeobotany, 239-271. Cologne, Heinrich Barth Institut. Fuller, D. Q. 2007. Contrasting patterns in crop domestication and domestication rates: recent archaeobotanical insights from the Old World. Annals of Botany 100, 903-924. Fuller, D. Q. and Allaby, R. 2010. Seed dispersal and crop domestication: shattering, germination and seasonality in evolution under cultivation. Annual Plants Reviews 38, 238-295. Fuller, D. Q., Macdonald, K. C. and Vernet, R. 2007. Early domesticated pearl millet in Dhar Nema (Mauritania): evidence of crop processing waste as ceramic temper. In R. Cappers (ed.), Field of Change. Proceedings of the 4th International Workshop for African Archaeobotany, 71-76. Groningen, Barkhuis & Groningen University Library. Fuller, D. Q., Qin, L., Zheng, Y., Zhao, Z., Chen, X., Aoi Hosoya, L., and Sun, G. 2009. The Domestication Process and Domestication Rate in Rice: Spikelet bases from the Lower Yangtze. Science 323, 1607-1610. Gaussen, J. & Gaussen, M. 1988. Le Tilemsi préhistorique et ses abords. Paris, Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique. Gautier, A. 1984. Archaeozoology of the Bir Kiseiba region, eastern Sahara. In F. Wendorf, R. Schild, and A.E. Close (eds.) Prehistory of Arid North Africa: essays in honor of Fred Wendorf, 163-187. Dalla, Southern Methodist University Press. Gautier, A. 1987a. The archaeozoological sequence of the Acacus. In B. Barich (ed.) Archaeology and Environment in the Libyan Sahara: The Excavations in the Tadrart Acacus. BAR International Series 368, 283-312. Oxford, British Archaeological Reports. Gautier, A. 1987b. Prehistoric Men and Cattle in North Africa. A Dearth of Data and Surfeit of Models. In A.E. Close (ed.) Prehistory of Arid North Africa: essays in honor of Fred Wendorf, 163-187. Dallas, Southern Methodist University. Gautier, A. and Van Neer, W. 1982. Prehistoric Fauna from Ti-n-Torah (Tadrart Acacus, Libya). Origini XI: 87127. Grigson, C. 1991. An African origin for African cattle? – Some archaeological evidence. African Archaeological Review, 9, 119-144. Grigson, C. 2000. Bos Africanus (Brehm)? Notes on the archaeozoology of the native cattle of Africa. In R. Blench and K.C. MacDonald (eds.), The Origins and Development of African Livestock: archaeology,

A critical introduction, 225-248. Oxford, Blackwell Publishing Ltd. Chevalier, A. 1922. Les petites céréales. Revue Internationale d'Agriculture Tropicale et Botanique Appliquée 2, 544-550. Childe, G. V. 1936. Man makes himself. New York, Oxford University Press Clark, J. D. 1976. Prehistoric populations and pressures favoring plant domestication in Africa. In J.R. Harlan, J.M.J. de Wet and A.B. Stemler (eds.), Origins of African Plant Domesticates, 67-105. Mouton, The Hague. Clark, J.D., Carter, P., Gifford-Gonzales, D. and Smith, A. 2008. The Adrar Bous Cow and African Cattle. In J.D. Clark, E.J. Agrilla, D.C. Crader, A. Galloway, E.A.A. Garcea, D. Gifford-Gonzalez (general editor), D.N. Hall, A.B. Smith, and M.A.J. Williams (eds.). Adrar Bous: Archaeology of a Central Saharan Granitic Ring Complex in Niger, 355-368. Tervuren, Royal Museum for Central Africa. Close, A.E. (ed.) 1987. Prehistory of Arid North Africa. Dallas, Southern Methodist University Press. Close, A.E. 2001. Sites E-91-3 and E-91-4: The Early Neolithic of El-Adam type at Nabta Playa. In F. Wendorf, R. Schild, and Associates (eds.), Holocene Settlement of the Egyptian Sahara, vol. 1: The Archaeology of Nabta Playa, 71-96. New York, Plenum. Close, A.E. and Wendorf, F. 1992. The beginning of food production in the eastern Sahara. In A.B. Gebauer and T.D. Price (eds.) Transitions to Agriculture in Prehistory, 4th edition, 63-72. Madison, Prehistory Press. Colledge, S., Conolly, J., and Shennan, S. 2004. Archaeobotantical evidence for the spread of farming in the eastern Mediterranean. Current Anthropology 45, S35-S58. Coulibaly, S., Pasquet, R.S., Papa, R. and Gepts, P. 2002. AFLP Analysis of the Phenetic Organization and Genetic Diversity of Vigna unguiculata L. Walp. Reveals Extensive Gene Flow Between Wild and Domesticated Types. Theoretical and Applied Genetics 104, 358-66. Davies, O. 1962. Neolithic cultures of Ghana. In G. Mortelmans and J. Nenquin (eds.) Actes du IV Congrès Panafricain de Préhistoire et de l’Etude du Quaternaire, 291-302. Tervuren, Musée Royal de l’Afrique Centrale. Davies, O. 1980. The Ntereso Culture in Ghana. In B. K. Swartz and R. A. Dumett (eds.) West African culture dynamics, 205-225. The Hague, Mouton. D’Andrea, A. C., Klee, M. and Casey, J. 2001. Archaeobotanical evidence for pearl millet (Pennisetum glaucum) in sub-Saharan West Africa. Antiquity 75, 341-348. D'Andrea, A. C., Logan, A. L. and Watson, D. J. 2006. Oil Palm and Prehistoric Subsistence in Tropical Africa. Journal of African Archaeology 4(2), 195-222. D’Andrea, A. C., Kahlheber, S. Logan, A. L. and Watson, D. J. 2007. Early domesticated cowpea (Vigna

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A developmental history for early West African agriculture MacDonald, K. C. 1994. Socio-economic diversity and the origins of cultural complexity along the Middle Niger (2000 BC to AD 300). Unpublished PhD thesis, University of Cambridge. MacDonald, K. C. 1996. The Windé Koroji Complex: evidence for the peopling of the eastern Inland Niger Delta (2100-500BC). Préhistoire Anthropologie Méditerranéennes 5, 147-165. Maley, J. 1977. Palaeoclimates of central Sahara during the early Holocene. Nature 269, 573-577. Maley, J. 1980. Les changements climatiques de la fin du tertiaire en Afrique: leur conséquence sur l’apparition du Sahara et de sa végétation. In M.A.J. Williams and H. Faure (eds.) The Sahara and the Nile : Quaternary Environments and Prehistoric Occupation in Northern Africa, 63-84. Rotterdam, Balkema. Maley, J. 1982. Dust, clouds, rain types and climatic variations in tropical north Africa. Quaternary Research 18, 1-16. Manning, K. 2008. Mobility, Climate Change and Cultural Development. A revised view from the Lower Tilemsi Valley, northeastern Mali. Unpublished PhD thesis, University of Oxford. Manning, K., Pelling, R., Higham, T., Schwenniger, J-L. and Fuller, D. In press. 4500-year old Domesticated Pearl Millet (Pennisetum glaucum) from the Tilemsi Valley, Mali: new insights into an alternative cereal domestication pathway in Africa. Journal of Archaeological Science. Marshall, F. and Hildebrand, L. 2002. Cattle before crops: the origins and spread of food production in Africa. Journal of World Prehistory 16, 99-143. McIntosh, R. J. 1993. The pulse model: genesis and accommodation of specialization in the Middle Niger. Journal of African History 34, 181-220. Murray, M. A., Fuller, D. Q. and Cappeza, C. 2007. Crop production on the Senegal River in the early First Millennium AD: preliminary archaeobotanical results from Cubalel. In R. Cappers (ed.) Field of Change. Proceedings of the 4th International Workshop for African Archaeobotany, 63-70. Groningen, Barkhuis & Groningen University Library. Neumann, K. 1999. Early plant food production in the West African Sahel: new evidence. In M. Van Der Veen (ed.) The exploitation of plant resources in Ancient Africa, 73-80. New York, Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publishers. Neumann, K. 2005. The romance of farming: plant cultivation and domestication in Africa. In A. B. Stahl (ed.) African archaeology. A critical introduction, 249275. Oxford, Blackwell Publishing Ltd. Oumar, I., Marciac, C., Pham, J.-L. and Vigouroux, Y. 2008. Phylogeny and origin of Pearl Millet (Pennisetum glaucum [L.] R. Br) as revealed by microsatellite loci. Theoretical and Applied Genetics 117, 489–497. Ozainne, S., Lespez, L., Le Drezen, Y., Eichhorn, B., Neumann, K., Huysecom, E. 2009. Developing a chronology integrating archaeological and environmental data from different contexts: the Late

genetics, linguistics and ethnography, 38-59. London, University College London Press. Haaland, R. 1999. The puzzle of the late emergence of domesticated sorghum in the Nile Valley. In Gosden, C. & Hather, J. (eds), The Prehistory of Food, 397-418. London, Routledge. Harlan, J. R. 1971. Agricultural origins: centres and noncentres. Science 174, 468-474. Harlan, J. R. 1992. Indigenous African agriculture. In C. Wesley Cowan and P. J. Watson (eds.), The origins of agriculture, 59070. Washington DC, Smithsonian Institution Press. Hassan, F. A. 2000. Cattle and climate in North Africa, a first approximation. In R. M. Blench and K. C. MacDonald (eds.), The Origins and Development of African Livestock: archaeology, genetics, linguistics and ethnography, 61-86. London, University College London Press. Hilu, K.W., Ribu, K.M., Liang, H. and Mandelbaum, C. 1997. Fonio millets: Ethnobotany, genetic diversity and evolution. South African Journal of Botany 63(4), 185-190. Holl, A. F. C. 1985a. Background to the Ghana Empire: archaeological investigations on the transition to statehood in the Dhar Tichitt region (Mauritania). Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 4, 73-115. Holl, A. F. C. 1985b. Subsistence patterns of the Dhar Tichitt Neolithic, Mauritania. African Archaeological Review 3, 151-162. Holl, A. F. C. 1986. Economie et société néolitique du Dhar Tichitt (Mauritanie). Paris, Editions Recherche sur les Civilisations, Mémoire No. 69. Kahlheber, S., Albert, K.-D., Höhn, A. 2001. A contribution to the paleoenvironment of the archaeological site Oursi in north Burkina Faso. In S. Kahlheber, and K. Neumann (eds.), Kulturentwicklung und Sprachgeschichte im Naturraum Westafrikanische Savanne: Man and environment in the West African Sahel: an interdisciplinary approach, 145-159. Frankfurt-amMain, Johann-Wolfgang Goethe-University (Berichte des Sonderforschungsbereichs 268/17). Kahlheber, S., Bostoen, K. and Neumann, K. 2009. Early Plant Cultivation in the Central African Rain Forest. First Millennium BC Pearl Millet from South Cameroon. Journal of African Archaeology 7 (2), 253272. Klee, M., Zach, B. and Stika, H.-P. 2004. Four thousand years of plant exploitation in the Lake Chad Basin (Nigeria), part III: plant impressions in potsherds from the Final Stone Age Gajiganna Culture. Vegetation History and Archaeobotany 13,131-142. Lézine, A.-M. 1991. West African palaeoclimates during the last climatic cycle inferred from an Atlantic deepsea pollen record. Quaternary Research, 35, 456-463. Loftus, R.T., MacHugh, D.E., Bradley, D.G., Sharp, P.M. and Cunningham, E.P. 1994. Evidence for two independent domestications of cattle. Proceedings of the National Academy of Science USA, 91, 27572761.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Holocene sequence of Ounjougou (Mali). Radiocarbon 51, 2, 457-470. Portères, R. 1955. Les céréales mineures du genre Digitaria en Afrique et Europe. Journal d'Agriculture Tropicale et Botanique Appliquée 2, 349-386, 477-510, 620-675. Portères, R. 1976. African cereals: eleusine, fonio, black fonio, teff, Brachiaria, Paspalum, Pennisetum and African rice. In J. R. Harlan, J. M. J. De Wet and A. B. L Stemler (eds.) Origins of African Plant Domestication, 409-452. The Hague, Mouton. Posnansky, M. 1984. Early agricultural societies in Ghana. In J.D. Clark and S.A. Brandt (eds.) From Hunters to Farmers, 147-151. Berkeley, University of California Press. Raimbault, M. and Dutour, O. 1989. Les nouvelles données du site néolithique de Kobadi dans le Sahel malien. La mission de 1989. Travaux du LAPMO, 175-183. Smith, A. B. 1974. Adrar Bous and Karkarichinkat. Examples of post-Palaeolithic Human adaptation in the Saharan and Sahel zones of West Africa. Unpublished PhD thesis, University of California. Smith, A.B. 1980. Domesticated cattle in the Sahara and their introduction into West Africa. In M.A.J. Williams and H. Faure (eds.) The Sahara and the Nile: Quaternary Environments and Prehistoric Occupation in Northern Africa, 489-501. Rotterdam, Balkema. Smith, A.B. 1986. Review article: Bos domestication in North Africa. African Archaeological Review 4, 197203. Smith, A. B. 1992. Pastoralism in Africa: origins and development ecology. London, Hurst. Stahl, A.B. 1985. Reinvestigation of Kintampo 6 rockshelter, Ghana: Implications for the nature of culture change. African Archaeological Review 3, 117150. Stahl, A. B. 1993. Intensification in the West African Late Stone Age: a view from central Ghana. In T. Shaw, P. Sinclair, B. Andah and A. Okpoko (eds.) The

Archaeology of Africa: food, metals and towns, 261273. London, Routledge. Stahl, A.B. 2005. Glass houses under the rocks: a reply to Watson. Journal of African Archaeology 3, 57-64. Tafuri, M.A., Alexander Bentley, R., Manzi, G. and di Lernia, S. 2006. Mobility and kinship in the prehistoric Sahara: Strontium isotope analysis of Holocene human skeletons from the Acacus Mts (southwestern Libya). Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 25, 390-402. Takezawa, S. and Cissé, M. 2004. Domestication des cereals au Méma, Mali. In S. Sanogo and T. Togola (eds.) Proceedings of the 11th Congress of the PanAfrican Association for Prehistory and Related Fields, 105121. Bamako: Institut des Sciences Humaines. Tostain, S. 1998. Le Mil, une longue histoire: Hypothèses sur sa domestication et ses migrations. In M. Chastenet (ed.) Plantes et paysages d'Afrique: une histoire à explorer, 461-490. Paris, Karthala. Vavilov, N. I. 1926. Studies on the origin of cultivated plants (Russian and English). Leningrad, State Press. Vigne, J.-D. 2008. Zooarchaeological aspects of the Neolithic diet transition in the Near East and Europe, and their putative relationships with the Neolithic Demographic Transition. In J-P. Bocquet-Appel and O. Bar-Yosef (eds.) The Neolithic Demographic Transition and its Consequences, 179-205. Dordrecht, Springer. Watson, D. 2005. Under the rocks: reconsidering the origin of the Kintampo Tradition and the development of food production in the savanna-forest/forest of West Africa. Journal of African Archaeology 3, 3-55. Wendorf, F. and Schild, R. (eds.) 1980. Prehistory of the Eastern Sahara. New York, Academic Press. Wendorf, F., Close, A. and Schild, R. (eds.) 1984. Cattle Keepers of the Eastern Sahara: The Neolithic of Bir Kiseiba. New Delhi, Paulist Press. Wendorf, F., Schild, R., and Associates. (eds.) 2001. Holocene Settlements of the Egyptian Sahara, vol. 1, The Archaeology of Nabta Playa. New York, Kluwer Academic/Plenum Press.

 

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Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa Len Pole

Museum consultant, world cultures collections 24 Beeches Close, Saffron Walden, Essex, CB11 4BT UK [email protected] Abstract There have been some fundamental shifts in focus of West African iron-working studies over the past decade. This article seeks to review the main themes. At the end of the previous decade two major conferences were convened to set out the arguments concerning the origin of iron production. The presentations in them were subsequently published and were subjected to close examination. Since then, attention has concentrated more on a wider range of data, covering the increasingly detailed picture of variability in levels of production, distribution and consumption, over the whole era of the industry’s existence. This overview looks at all these issues under these headings: origins, variation in production regimes and procedures, production capacity, links to political institutions, and concomitants of decay, with an indication of some likely directions of future work. Keywords West Africa, iron working, research review, archaeology, ethnohistory, ethnoarchaeology

Introduction

development of African iron production centres, in West Africa and elsewhere; but also entrenched positions were being dug more deeply. These were mediated to a large extent through the publication of the papers presented at the Proceedings of the First International Colloquium on the Archaeology of Africa and the Mediterranean Basin, which focused on The Origins of Iron Metallurgy, held in Geneva in June 1999 (published in French, English and German in 2001/2), closely followed by the UNESCO conference on African Iron Metallurgy in November 1999 (published in French in 2002 and in English in 2004). Extended comments on and reviews of these momentous conferences appeared in mid decade by Killick (2004, 2005), Alpern (2005), and McIntosh (2005). An indication of the extent to which these issues are still live is given in a recent article in “Science” (Pringle 2009, 200-202).

The aim of this paper is to review current research into iron working in western Africa at the end of the first decade of this millennium. This is the region from Mauritania to the borders of Chad and the Central African Republic (comprising Senegal, Gambia, Guinea-Bissau, Guinea, Mali, Sierra Leone, Liberia, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso, Ghana, Togo, Benin, Niger, Nigeria, and Cameroon). That is, not only to consider the origins of ironworking - whether it was developed ab initio in the continent or was brought in from outside - but rather what African blacksmiths did with the process once the technological ball was in their court, and also to stress the volume of data building up about the variety in scale of production, procedures and rituals, which developed across the region, over the 2500 years period, or however many years it may turn out to be.

Origins

Scepticism has been one common reaction to the consolidation of certain positions, as Haour says (2003, 218), citing the cautionary statements of Killick and others with regard to the contentious Termit dates from Niger. Also an emphasis on the general picture, a comprehensive if not ubiquitous presence of iron working, being practiced in western Africa since the latter half of the first millennium BCE. Plus a hope that we will in time begin to get a more detailed picture of the socio-political setting in which this technology flourished. Many writers have stressed the discontinuities in the narrative, although this may be more a function of the intermittent nature of the present archaeological record. Evidence is derived from sites in Niger, Nigeria, Cameroon, Central African Republic, also further west in Senegal – Tigidit and the Termit massif, Taruga, Nsukka, Gbabiri and Oboui, the middle Senegal valley, being the principal sites from which secure dates have been obtained (see Figure 1), even if not for the earliest period in each place.

At the beginning of the millennium there was some stocktaking done, relating to the debate about indigenous

What particularly characterises the two polarised views of the inception of iron manufacture in West Africa? The

David (2001) exhorts us to think about what linking with cultural context actually means methodologically; certainly knowing the symbolic associations of ritual elements in other contexts within that community in which iron working takes place, but also how far does the political framework infiltrate aspects of the process? The methodological requirements, listed in his Appendix, are necessary, useful and cathartic, in reconsidering the applicability of many studies to the current examination of issues. It is necessary also to acknowledge that certain technological ambiguities and controversies (such as the occurrence of direct smelting processes in Africa, and the ‘pre-heating’ hypothesis) have been clarified and/or laid to rest, through such papers as those of Fluzin (2004) and Killick (2004).

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure

1:

Map

of

Western Africa, showing sites, groups and areas mentioned Key: • Walalde = site; Mandara = group; Ndop Plain = area

independent development model has tended to rely on chronology – finding evidence of an early date which makes it difficult to argue that knowledge of making iron could have come from elsewhere. But what should the nature of such evidence be? A detailed network of distinctive objects and evidence of activities which have not been described contemporaneously in any other location; that is, not just product remains of a particular distinct metallographic signature, but furnace characteristics, tuyere and air control forms; in sum evidence of a metallurgical intelligence at work, together with the lack of similar congeries of elements elsewhere in a locality datable to a similar period. The model based on the utilisation of a preexisting technology also requires distinctive markers: a complex of material residues in one site, datable to a single period, that is clearly identifiable with a similar set within striking distance; that is, demonstrating signs of regular contact. The two most recent overview papers by Killick (2004) and Alpern (2005) conclude that such markers to unequivocally confirm either of these models have not yet been discovered.

in

the

text.

nevertheless pertinent) ‘According to Killick, “the case [for preheated blast in the Haya furnace] is, to employ an old Scots legal verdict, not proven” but neither is it disproven’ (2005, 88). I have reinserted the clause in italics from the original; it is not included in the quote in Alpern’s paper. But it raises an interesting point, since it concerns the nature of evidence. Should archaeologists, historians, anthropologists, ethnographers, ethno-archaeologists, seek evidence of sufficient clarity to be usable in a court of law to enable judgement of “guilt or innocence” to be pronounced? Is it appropriate for an investigator putting forward an hypothesis favouring one side or the other to prove their case beyond reasonable doubt, as in a criminal case, or on the balance of probabilities, as in a civil suit? As I understand it, the old Scots ‘not proven’ verdict means not proven either way, so this verdict actually includes ‘not disproven’. Alpern could, therefore, be kicking at an open door. In this arena of pre-history how do we decide what to accept and what to reject in the way of a likely scenario? What I take to be the critical point in these matters remains the identification of contrary evidence. So, an hypothesis derived rationally from the evidence available at the time remains tenable, until it is contradicted by new evidence. The application of criteria usual in a legal framework is inappropriate. All we can hope for is an interim statement of the most likely scenario, until a more robustly supported one is formulated using more secure evidence.

Both these writers caution against making assumptions about independent development on dating evidence alone. Killick’s metallurgical background serves to strengthen his scepticism, whereas Alpern balances on the fence more carefully. He says (admittedly not a comment with specific relevance to the West African situation, but

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Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa In Huysecom’s introduction to the Proceedings of the Archaeology of Africa and the Mediterranean Basin Colloquium in 1999, he underlines the lesson that ‘ancient iron metallurgy … remains mostly sporadic’, both in its occurrence across the continent and in respect of the objects which the technology was used to produce. The question needs to be asked, at what point in each location did the technology become commonplace and sophisticated, capable of transforming large quantities of ore into metal in such a way that the archaeological record is littered with remains of hoe blades, axes, spearheads, knives, etc? Huysecom rightly demands that the ‘moment of passage to the “generalisation of iron” should henceforth be the subject of careful study and specific research’ (2001, 4).

as relating to the making of iron, we still need to be sure that we know what the workers were trying to do. Finding other sites in the vicinity would be the best answer. Bocoum indicates that so far no new evidence regarding the possibility of a route of introduction of iron from North Africa has been brought forward. Were such evidence to be found, it would presumably strengthen that possibility; but it would only do so if it clearly overcame the metallurgical hurdles which Killick, Alpern and others have set up. In fact Bocoum says that ‘the analytical basis of forthcoming research … should cover the different aspects of the cultural and technical environment of these early Iron Age civilisations’ (2004, 102, fn). Huysecom espouses an alternative, but not opposing, view of the situation: ‘The emergence of objects made of iron must be viewed as the result of complex situations where independent centres of innovation could be very close to, or even interrelate with, centres which adopted the technique from somewhere else’ (2001, 2).

He suggests that this ‘generalisation’ happened relatively early in some parts of western Africa ‘from the 1st century BC onwards in Nigeria, Niger and Mali’, whereas Sierra Leone had to wait until the cusp of the 1st/2nd millennia CE to see the first appearance of iron implements. The general output of arms and agricultural tools in southern Africa ‘is associated with the setting up of state-controlled commercial structures’ and longer distance trade networks in the early 2nd millennium CE. To what extent can this also be said of the situation in western Africa? So far, de Barros has drawn attention to such trends in ancient Ghana and Mali (2000, 158).

The more obvious bones of contention exposed by Killick are those graphically presented by Maes-Diop (2004, 189, table 15) to indicate the early placement of the Niger results. Killick’s statement that ‘we will never be able to trace the spread of iron working through West, Central and Northeastern Africa by radiocarbon dating’ cannot be ignored, though he does temper it by allowing for this possibility if we could ‘find evidence of iron in excellent stratigraphical association with short-lived radiocarbon samples precisely dated to before 2600 BP’ (2004, 107). No such evidence yet satisfies these conditions, rather he urges Africanist archaeologists to work towards the development of a series of detailed ceramic sequences covering the whole continent, which would provide a secure dating base.

Huysecom is surely right to conclude that it is time to move away from ‘the simplifying opposition of innovation versus adoption’. Alain Gallay also posits ‘the sheer impossibility of distinguishing between “invention” and “borrowing”’, and suggests that the ‘question of the origins of iron metallurgy in Africa belongs to the realm of history, not ethnoarchaeology’ (2001, 10), echoing the McIntoshes (1988, 110). At the beginning of the decade, early dates were bandied about, such as 800 BC for Niger (cf. Quéchon, 2002, 2004). Although Huysecom says ‘this discovery has yet to be backed up’ (2001, 3), he later refers to it as ‘established’. A tendency to express oneself like this, crystallising date ranges when expressed in summary with an emphasis on the earlier end of the range, has often had unfortunate repercussions, especially when repeated by others without specialist knowledge of the issues.

Another point relates to the lack of a pre-existing period of copper or copper-alloy working in most regions of the sub-continent. This has been used by some as evidence against the possibility of the independent development of iron-working in West Africa, despite van der Merwe’s comment ‘there is no direct link between copper and iron technology and there is no logical sequence of technological progress from the first to the second’ (1980, quoted by Holl, 1993). This point has been re-emphasised recently (Bocoum, 2004, 23, following Jemkur, 2004, 38). Others have expressed a more radical view, that experience of copper production might well have inhibited the metallurgical mindset required for the production of iron: as Andah put it, ‘people not used to working a metal by first melting it stood a good chance of inventing some form of smelting process not necessarily dependent on large high temperature furnaces borrowed from the copper melting process’ (Andah 1979, quoted in Alpern, 2005, 85). It is necessary to consider this in the context of the very narrowly defined set of metallurgical constraints iron-workers had to abide by. Whereas the temperatures required for successful melting of metallic copper from its matrix and the reduction of the metallic iron from its ore are similar, ‘the air supply for iron smelting must be regulated very carefully to ensure that there is enough heat

Concerning the possible early dates in Niger, serious doubts have emerged about both their applicability and their implications, but what inferences can be drawn from the denial that they are as secure as their proponents suggest? Are these sites significant as indicators of the extreme variability of sub-Saharan African iron technology, irrespective of their date? Or do they acquire significance solely through their putative early date? Surely the importance attached to these sites is certain only if they can help to clarify the main framework of a larger story, focusing on how African iron-workers first became confident that their activities were effective. If the dates turn out to be well founded, but still relate to copper production or the results of fire on tree-stumps, we are no further forward. Even if the activity is re-confirmed

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives produced to attain the needed temperatures’ without ‘too much CO2’ (Killick, pers. com., quoted in Alpern, 2005, 83, fn165).

the contrary’ (2004, 129). Both of these statements put a degree of weight on the evidence which it strains to bear. Quéchon also says ‘the results presented here have been obtained on a strictly generalist basis’ (2004, 110) meaning without the services of a palaeometallurgist. As far as I am aware, Quéchon has not made any further comment in print since these reviews appeared.

What we are trying to understand are the experimental scenarios that resulted in the first successful iron smelting operations in this region (McIntosh, 2005, 80). The problem, as with all such combined practical and intellectual leaps, is that the crucial processes occur in the minds of the practitioners; what eventually appears in the physical record is merely some of the bits left over after the significant actions have taken place.

By contrast, Grébénart’s dates for Afunfun 179 Fer 1 in Tigidit have been subject to continual refinement, by himself as well as by others, since they were first published in 1983. At that time the principal uncalibrated radiocarbon dates put the inception of iron-working earlier than 1000 BCE. By 1985, Fer 1 was graphically indicated at between 500 and 0 BCE. So when, in his 2005 review, Alpern admonished Grébénart for stressing the earlier end of the date range as the ‘eighth century BCE’, it was a fact that Grébénart himself had already conceded the point. In his 1988 publication he is quoted as confirming that the Agadez-Termit-Jos autonomous centre of development hypothesis could ‘only become a certainty when supported by datings clearly older than those of the eastern Mediterranean basin’ (Grébénart 1988, 96; see also Killick et al. 1988, 369) – which they are not.

Niger In various statements about the evidence from Do Dimmi, in the Termit massif, the earliest published in 1972, Quéchon initially put forward calibrated dates of 1030580 BCE, supported in 1999 by additional dates, which he summarised by concluding that ‘the first known smelting furnaces date from approximately 800 BC’ (2004, 112). The reservations expressed by Holl (2000), Haour (2003), Killick (2004), Alpern (2005) and McIntosh (2005) relating to these dates are formidable. All in various ways regret the lack of detail in the initial reports. McIntosh demands the strongest line of evidence, in the form of a cable rather than a chain (thus extending the chaine opératoire analogy). This is on the reasonable basis that the sites in Termit are all deflation surfaces (cf. the diagram in McIntosh 2005, 76). Alpern agrees: ‘The principal criticism is that there is no real proof that the (reliably-) dated potsherds found in association with metal objects or charcoal are contemporaneous with them’ (2005, 71). Quéchon has produced no stratigraphical evidence, other than to say that the sites were almost always totally exempt from disturbances and mixtures; ‘the great majority of the deposits relating to … [the recent Neolithic]… have remained in situ, although on the surface’ (2004, 111), or as he put it in the French language version, ‘les documents prouvaient que les sites du néolithique final de Termit étaient presque toujours totalement exempts de perturbations et de mélanges’ (2002, 113). This has not been acceptable to Alpern, Killick or McIntosh. Surely here is a situation in which the archaeologist putting forward a potentially revolutionary new set of facts must be required to provide positive proof.

Nigeria The earliest recorded iron-working dates from Nigeria, initially reported in 1986 and reiterated in 2009, come from Kano state, around Kazaure. Darling (1986, 39) reported very early but isolated TL dates from two sites, at Fitola (2400±1100 BC) and Matanfada (1400±50 BC), obtained from the bases of bowl furnaces. He was at that time quick to add a caution about the two ‘extraordinary early dates’; ‘clearly serious consideration cannot be given to their interpretation until [there is] comparative dating from associated and similar sites’. By 2009, this consideration was still ongoing, as reported to the World of Iron Conference – ‘further samples to cross-check the previous very early dates have been submitted for TL dating’ (2009, 25); the need for these is the more urgent because of recent rapid destruction of furnace bottoms by cattle. These dates are not mentioned by either Killick or Alpern in their overviews, yet if supported by further substantiated examples from a similar time-frame, they will need to be given serious attention.

In addition, Killick has no confidence in radiocarbon dating results which vary by more than two sigma from each other. In his defence, Quéchon does refer to one result, showing a discrepancy of at least one thousand radiocarbon years (rather than ‘two thousand’ as Killick states), as ‘inconsistent’. Comments made by two authors in the same volume have to be seen in this light. MaesDiop states that ‘the antiquity and endogenous nature of African palaeo-ironworking are now unquestionable and undisputed’ (2004, 190) and de Maret remarks that ‘there has been a tendency … to suppose that ironworking could not be older in Africa than in other continents. Any dates before 1500 BC were therefore rejected. However, the results found in Niger [citing Quéchon 1995] tend to prove

The date range for the Taruga furnaces is fairly well established and accepted, at 591±75, 538±84, and 341±133 BCE (all uncalibrated radiocarbon dates), plus a TL date of 400±125 BCE. Similar forms of iron production reached Katsina-Ala in Benue State, by 400 BCE (Isichei, 1983, 43 and fn168). Initially a terracotta torso was excavated by Bernard Fagg at Taruga in the early 1960s (1990, 145, no92); later he found 13 smelting furnaces, plus fragments of another torso, but, de Grunne said, ‘but we have no information on their stratigraphic context, since the complete report awaits publication’ (1998, 15). Another excavation campaign in December 1967 and January 1968 produced three more radiocarbon dates for these furnaces, ‘ranging from 440 to 280 BC ± 100 years’ (Fagg, 1969, 56

Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa 41-49). A further relevant excavation is the one at Samun Dukiya, south of Nok, undertaken by Angela Fagg in 1969 (1972). The figures from Taruga are illustrated (on pp 144146 of the 1990 edition of Fagg’s book): no148 ‘Janiform object found during the archaeological excavations undertaken at Taruga. Found close to the wall of an iron smelting furnace’, no 23 ‘Found in a streambed near the excavations’, and no 92, the torso, ‘Found close to an iron-smelting furnace’, all dated to the mid 3rd century BCE. There is a good summary of the data as presented in the 1970s in Rustad (1980, 228-9). Further Taruga dates relating to ironworking were published in 1979 (Calvocoressi and David, repeated in Holl 1993, 338). The most recent statement by Jemkur (2006, 19) relating to the site is that ‘of the eleven radiocarbon dates obtained from Taruga, two fall in the fifth century BC and one around the turn of the second century BC’. Jemkur did mention some earlier dates, but has apparently little confidence in them (see Alpern 2005, 75 re Jemkur 1992, 67).

of Niger, Kaduna, Nassarawa, Benue, Plateau, and Kogi States. This area has been surveyed by James Ameje (2008), who has located a large number and variety of sites. Cameroon The Mandara project in northern Cameroon and the northeast of Nigeria has highlighted a set of significant sites in this area. This is relevant not least because of the notional significance of this region in the diffusionists’ supposed trail from Meroe to Taruga. The indication of mid-1st millennium BCE dates from three sites in association with iron is potentially enticing, particularly since tests were carried out on charcoal and cow bone fragments associated with iron tools and slag, indicating not just use of objects made of iron (MacEachern, 1996, 495). Other sites in Cameroon such as those at Oliga (Essomba 2004) and Obobogo (de Maret 1985) have been put forward and then apparently withdrawn. Woodhouse includes various early dates from Oliga in his list (1998) which Holl (2000, 15) reports as having been subsequently rejected by Essomba. De Maret and Thiry also indicate the withdrawal of early dates between the 10th and 17th centuries BCE from Obobogo (1996, 31-32); so presumably the more recent dates listed by Woodhouse stand; that is between 550-200 BCE and 90 BCE-70 CE. Essomba’s most recently published dates from Oliga, indicating an 8th and 9th century BCE span for a furnace at this site, are claimed to be ‘fully consistent with current thinking about the chronology of the Iron Age in East West and Central Africa’ (2004, 141). Essomba states that the dates were obtained from two different laboratories and ‘taken from a genuine reduction structure’. However, Alpern reports (2005, 76-77) that Clist has examined the site and casts doubt on the genuineness of the structure as a furnace. He indicates that the same period of initiation of iron-working applies to southern Cameroon and to Gabon, that is around 400 BCE.

A number of exceptionally early iron working dates from the Igbo region of south-east Nigeria have been reported over the last 15 years, from the Nsukka area – sites at Opi, Owerre-Elu, Orba, Umundu, and Lejja. The Opi age determinations are the earliest, charcoal samples from three furnaces producing AMS dates of 520-200 BCE, 380-110 BCE, and 345 BCE-15 CE with one-sigma calibration. A reasonable expression of this range would be 6thC BCE to 1stC CE, rather than ‘fifth to second centuries BC’, as Okafor suggests (1993, 437), cf. Alpern (2005, 75). A comparison of the composition of slag from Opi and the famous slag blocks in the centre of Lejja, shown by Okafor in his 1993 paper (and later by Eze-Uzomaka at the World of Iron Conference in 2009), lead Okafor to suggest a broad similarity in procedure; ‘Lejja iron-smelting, therefore, [is] more likely to have been conducted with the same techniques as those used by the Opi smelters, where similar remains exist’ (1993, 446). He did not at that time make any assumption about a commensurate date range, but later these sites were chronologically linked. In 2008 and 2009, Eze-Uzomaka reported extremely early dates for the smelting site at Lejja, which she assumed to have produced these massive slag blocks. She stated in 2009 that ‘the site has been radiocarbon dated to 2000 BC’; while admitting that investigations were still ongoing, she gave no details of the metallurgical context of these dates, their range or calibration. A later newspaper report quoted her on this, plus her statement that a second date had been received, of 1445 BC; she also mentioned the Opi date as being 520 BC (The Nation, April 2009). All this of course resulted in the newspaper using the headline, “Nigerian scientists discover 4005 year old iron technology”.

Mali What of the well-known site of Jenne-Jeno in the inland Niger delta in Mali? Dates in ‘the late first millennium BC’ have been mentioned in passing by Kense (1985, 17), Holl (1993, 336 on map) and in more detail by the McIntoshes (1981, 15; 1986, 427; 1988, 109; and 1993, 630-31). They are clear in their first publications that the earliest phase of occupation demonstrates the manufacture and use of iron, from 250 BCE onwards. This conclusion is based solely on the appearance of slag in the earliest Phase I. No claim is made that this represents anything other than the spread of pre-existing technological accomplishments, and assumes the importation of iron ore to this extensive riverine site.

David Aremu lists a number of Nigerian sites including Dutsen Kongba in Plateau State, and gives us the information that iron objects occurred in a level dated to 2780±100 BP, but with no reference (2004, 152); given that there is no indication of iron-working, this date is of little significance. More recent work has been undertaken in the north central region of Nigeria, incorporating parts

Ghana In Ghana, there seem to have been few or no recent developments to compare with the early dates once reported by Davies for Ntereso (but not with any degree of confidence: he rejected the date of c1500 BCE [3580±130

57

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives BP] because it did not at that time fit, ‘in view of the known history of iron smelting’ (1967, 238-39)). Is it possible to revisit the source of this date, or the site? Neither Alpern nor Killick include any discussion of possible early Ghanaian dates, and there is no relevant new material put forward in the recent volume on Ghana (ed. Insoll, 2008).

throughout the region. How do they relate to the wellrehearsed variation in smelting structures? Looking at the most recently-presented reports of procedures recorded in West Africa, either through archaeological or ethnographic research, there is no simple relationship between structure and output, in the main because similar forms of furnace can be used in varying degrees of intensity, and former classifications based on structure alone take little account of volume. The furnace used by Babungo smelters on the Ndop Plain, in what de Barros has referred to as ‘the largest known iron producer of the late 18th century through the early 20th century in all of sub-Saharan Africa’ (2000, 157), was delivering this output using the form of furnace that in other parts of Cameroon and Nigeria was being used much less intensively. Even within the Babungo, Warnier and Fowler were at pains to point out that two quite similar forms of furnace (‘old Babungo or Bakwang’ and ‘Babungo clump’), occurring with equal frequency in an area defined by a defensive trench, were configured in quite distinct ways, the clump furnace and its associated high slag heaps providing evidence of the response to increasing pressure on land resulting from slave raiding (1979, 333). High levels of output were maintained over a period of 80 years from c. 1840 until the 1920s. They describe the method of continuous use of the larger Bamessing furnace, not allowing the structure to cool between smelts, thereby attaining economies of scale, but only required when the demand was high. When demand lessened they reverted to puddling old slag in open hearths. A ‘less efficient, yet more flexible technique’, and one presumably less demanding on fuel and labour. The main point to get from a comparison of the forms of furnace used on the Ndop Plain, and similar forms in use elsewhere, is that description of these forms alone gives little meaningful or useful comparative information without related data on configuration, layout of the foundry, arrangement and volume of debris, etc. There is now no shortage of operational detail relating to such variation, gathered from work published over the last seven decades, from the Mandara mountains (David and Killick, forthcoming, David et al. 1989, Vaughan 1973, and others), to Nupe (Nadel, 1942), the central plateau region of Nigeria (the ‘embedded’ furnaces of Jemkur (2004) and Ameje (2008)), and northern Nigeria, as mentioned by Darling in his 2009 World of Iron presentation. There is, in addition, much earlier evidence embracing slag-pit and slag-tapping furnaces, some with vertical tuyeres, also Hausa-type induced-draft shaft furnaces. These can be matched from other countries, such as Burkina Faso (see below) as well as other regions of Africa (cf. Schmidt 1996, 5-6; 2001, 220).

Central African Republic Two major early iron-working sites are located near the Cameroon border, in the extreme north-west of the country, both worked on by Zangato. The first, Gbabiri, is dated to 839-782 BCE on charcoal associated with a refining forge, and to 513-430 BCE on charcoal from a smelting furnace (Zangato 1999). These are convincing sources of evidence, but Alpern suggested more corroboration was needed to confirm the dating (2005, 78). This was provided by the recent monograph on the second site, Oboui, with dates of 2343-2058 BCE (Zangato 2008). Not surprisingly, this has generated some publicity (e.g. Pringle, “Science”, 2009). Gbabiri was not commented on by Killick in 2004, but Oboui has been, eliciting his comment, reported in the “Science” article, that the artefacts are far too well preserved, given the acidic conditions, to be of that age, although he accepted that the forge is genuine. As with the early sites in southern Cameroon and Gabon, Bernard Clist is also sceptical, commenting that all the dates come from samples within a few square metres of each other in a very disturbed site, surrounded by structures which are dated to 2000 BP and later (2009, 202). According to the report in “Science”, Zangato was due to present a paper to the World of Iron conference in 2009, but unfortunately that did not happen. Senegal Recent work in the most westerly part of the sub-continent is of great interest. In the middle Senegal valley, at the site of Walalde, clear evidence of iron working between the 8th and 3rd century BCE has been found by Deme, backed up by a report by Killick appended to Deme’s PhD thesis (2003). Unlike the dates from Oboui, these Walalde dates have been accepted as among the earliest in western Africa, even by Killick. The contrasting reception accorded to these sets of dates has been picked up in the “Science” article as evidence of a re-opening of the rift between Anglophones and Francophones concerning the viability of the independent development model, although it is difficult to explain the recent pronouncements of Holl and Clist in terms of this dichotomy. So, although it will be necessary to ‘update’ Maes-Diop’s assessment of early dates (2004, 198-193) for the western African region, using the criteria on dating acceptability enunciated by Killick and McIntosh, there appears to be little hope that the respective positions will become much less entrenched in the coming decade.

Caroline Robion-Brunner and others have amassed considerable amounts of data on variety in Dogon procedures: in her 2008 paper at the conference of the Society of Africanist Archaeologists in Frankfurt, she presented a detailed picture of the development of one of the blacksmiths’ clans, which was made up, over many generations, of skilled craftsmen from different social and ethnic backgrounds. In her 2009 presentation at the World of Iron conference she outlined the variety of furnace forms

Variation in production regimes and procedures The last decade has seen considerable progress in assembling evidence for the range of operational procedures 58

Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa and smelting procedures, leading to the conclusion that the significant variable is the scale of labour organisation, therefore the manufacture and distribution of the products, leading sometimes to under- sometimes to over-production, delivering a surplus. In one set-up, which she named ‘the duality arrangement’, smelting was undertaken by farmers, smithing was a specialist occupation (as among the Sukur in Northeast Nigeria/ Mandara mountains). Another was ‘the unitarian arrangement’, in which smelting and smithing were undertaken by the same group (2009, 37), as in Northern Ghana. Martinelli takes this distinction further, seeking to redress what he sees as an imbalance in attention paid to ‘farmer-metalworkers’ and ‘blacksmiths’, the former ‘monopolising furnace technology’ in places like northern Togo and northern Cameroon, passing on the metal to blacksmiths, ‘the mere manufacturers’ (2004, 168). This is not how others have read the distinction, as it occurred in Mandara, where it was said (but possibly by the smiths themselves) that anybody could produce iron, but only the blacksmiths had the skill to make the tools (see Vaughan, 1973, 175 ‘whereas the smelting process is largely a routine process, in smithing, the skill of the smith is crucial’). In their paper to an earlier Society of Africanist Archaeologists conference, Robion-Brunner et al (2006) detail the Fiko and Tintam groups, who operate large-scale sites using large furnaces 2.50m in height and 1.75m in diameter, and contrast these with the smaller furnaces and output rates of the Ennde and Ama groups. They conclude that ‘many of them just supplied the local market in iron for daily use’, but that the Fiko group ‘have been calculated to have produced in the order of tens of thousands of tons over more than a thousand years’. They find it puzzling that these two levels of production could have co-existed for centuries, only 50km apart, with the large scale centres never supplanting small-scale production. But elsewhere in West Africa, other areas in which similar varieties of operation have co-existed have been recorded, such as Mandara, Ndop, and Yatenga. David (2008) presented data from Mandara at the Frankfurt conference that parallels the Dogon picture, in that the scale of production varied in both areas, from sporadic production for local consumption to more intensive operations generating considerable surpluses. Comparison could also be made between the level of production in northern Ghana, and the output from Bassar, a distance of about 200km (Pole 2008, 27).

Figure 2: Furnace in use during smelting reconstruction at Gomperi, Lawra, Upper West Region, Ghana, 12th March 1972. © Len Pole

This is much further elaborated by Martinelli’s work further north in Yatenga country (2004, 165-188) on tall furnaces operating over long periods of time in contiguous areas where smaller inclined furnaces were also in use ‘for the special purpose of producing steel from iron-manganese ore’, these furnaces being common to all the populations in the centre and south of the country. Towards the southeast, Thombiano has studied Gourma production details: open-cast and deep shaft mining, induced- and forceddraft furnace operations, producing a variety of slag forms at different periods; the date range is yet to be confirmed (2009, 15-16). In the Bulkiemde province, KienonKabore has found similar variation, combining a study of present-day production and archaeological evidence of earlier working from the 9-16th centuries CE, with the use of reduction and refining furnaces (2004, 19-24; 2009,1213). All this serves to confirm the picture of increasing complexity of production, building on the work of Izard (1983), Kiethega (1981) and others.

Recent presentations and papers by researchers working in Burkina Faso have similarly filled out the picture there. The principal theme emerging from these reports is the existence of several procedural traditions in these communities, either contemporaneously or successively. In the Diablo region, west of Kaya, Christopher Roy recorded an iron festival on film (2005), showing an inclined furnace (similar to that used in Northern Ghana, see Figure 2) which before the 1960s existed together with a high furnace tradition.

Production Capacity There is a tendency amongst those who have studied the industry intensively in Africa, to assume that the advantages that iron bestows were immediately realised and taken up wherever the technology was developed 59

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives or introduced. It is clear that this was not always so, as de Barros has summarised (2000, 156). It would be instructive to provide a detailed picture of the economics of production and distribution across the region in more recent centuries, but this is at present premature, as few carefully controlled studies involving quantification have yet been undertaken.

in this part of West Africa is made (e.g. de Barros 2000, 152; Childs and Herbert 2005, 289) but not enough recent attention has been paid to the full range of trading patterns, building on the earlier survey of Sundstrom; ‘The goods deriving from native African industry … indubitably contribute the bulk of information on transport routes’ (1974, 210). The weighty nature of iron and the common occurrence of the raw material favour local rather than long-distance distribution, if local production can be viably maintained (vide David’s comments about taking Ricardo’s law of specialisation into account (2008)). Often it is the larger-scale centres of production, with their concomitant longer-distance supply networks that have been the centre of interest. But how large-scale are these centres? The northern Nigeria situation seems similar to the Ndop arrangement (Warnier and Fowler 1979); there are many forms of production here, not a single centralised organisation. And we now know more of Yatenga, with many centres contributing to a large-scale overall picture when viewed from afar, but crystallising into many smaller-scale workshops when looked at in more detail (e.g. Martinelli 2004). Excavations in 1993 in the middle Senegal River valley revealed the large-scale smelting site of Djuude Djaabe, in part of the region formerly occupied by the Takrur state, about 50km down river from Walalde, dated to 1000-1450 CE (Killick 2003, 387). This complemented the work of Robert-Chaleix and Sognane in the early 1980s surveying further up river on the Mauritanian side, finding evidence of over 40,000 furnace remains between the site of Kaskas and the present-day town of Kaedi, dated to the 8th and 9th centuries CE (1983, 54). It is also instructive to look at other centres, in such places as Futa Jallon, Bassar, possibly around Abomey in Bénin (Randsborg at Sheffield 2009), to consider only West African possibilities (see also Childs and Herbert 2005, 283). Can we continue to talk oppositionally in terms of larger- and smaller- scale (see Pole 2008, 27)? It might be more accurate to think of a sliding scale of production density.

The use of mining to get to higher quality ores is a subject that has not received much examination, yet I suspect it has occurred more frequently than at first appears. Childs and Herbert in their overview skate over the matter; ‘typically both iron and copper ores were dug out of shallow pits and shafts with hoes or digging sticks’ (2005, 283). More extensive mining exploits have been reported from various places in West Africa, and not always recently: Dogon (Huysecom 2001, 75, Pl.1/2), Bougouni, south of Bamako (Francis-Boeuf 1937, 412-14), eastern Ghana (Pole, forthcoming), an old report from a Major Ewart in 1890 of an iron ore mine near Ajilete, western Nigeria (Mabogunje 1971, 13), and a recent report by Randsborg from Abomey in Bénin, in his presentation to the conference in Sheffield in 2009 (see also Posnansky 2005, 34). Randsborg also reported the existence of c12,000 cu m of slag associated with these mines, but this kind of data cannot have much significance unless carefully framed in time scale and linked to quantified levels of production – how many workshops does this relate to over what period of time? The figure of 214,500 cu m was reported by Fowler for the Ndop Plain and its vicinity (1979, 331) concentrated mainly in the three chiefdoms of Babungo, Bamessing, and Bamenyam, as a result of his survey of at least 274 smelting sites. As yet no secure method of relating slag mound volume and scale of production has been developed; a lot more quantified verifiable work on output per workshop per year is required before this will be feasible. Assembly of useful quantified data about efficiency in turning the iron locked up in the ore into usable iron is equally thin on the ground. One example is contained in Martinelli’s data from the slow smelting tall furnaces of Yatenga. The crucial ratio of bloom weight (metallic Fe + inclusions) to ore weight, including untransformed ore, produces an efficiency ratio of 9.5% over 70 hours, 17.7% over 100 hours (2004, 183). How does this compare with other quantifications? De Barros emphasises variability in efficiency, comparing the Ndop Plain with the Haya industry in Tanzania; the first being 40 times more efficient than the second (2000, 153). But like is not being compared with like, so the comparison has little validity.

Concerning the demand end of the chaine opératoire, David’s 2008 presentation contains an analysis of the forms and causes of specialization, which can be applied elsewhere in the region. It will be useful to see to what extent it helps to explain producer/consumer relationships. For example, he draws attention to a consumption rate in Mandara in the 1930-40s, at c. 125gm per person per year (David, 2008), derived from interviews with members of a household containing seven people. Warnier and Fowler, on the other hand, describing the Bamoum kingdom, of c 60,000 people in 1900, estimate that about 8 tons were needed each year ‘to replenish its stock of hoes’, used exclusively by women in cultivating the land. This equates to an average consumption per person per year of about 121gm. What is revealing about these statistics is that David uses them as an indication of what he calls ‘the minimum scale of iron consumption’, whereas Warnier and Fowler use their data to buttress their thesis of the Ndop plain as ‘The Ruhr of Central Africa’, as the title of their paper puts it. I made an attempt in an earlier paper to indicate the degree of variation in output in apparently

Building on earlier work in Bassar, de Barros (2000, 2001) has reported on fluctuations in the scale of production, from early iron age Dekpassanware (400 BCE – 150 CE), when a small number of iron bloom crushing mortars indicates production primarily to fill local needs, to much higher production levels during later periods (post 1300 CE), when regional and long-distance trade networks were involved (2009, 11). Occasional reference to trading 60

Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa similar forms of operation (Pole 1985, 52). The conclusion of Warnier and Fowler was that ‘the data we present suggest that iron production, though widespread in West and Central Africa, may have been concentrated in centres producing on a very large scale’ (1979, 348). We certainly need more quantifiable data to make more sense of these divergent conclusions.

balance; chiefs overtly, autochthones and priests of the earth covertly via control over powers of sorcery, as in Mande (McNaughton, 1988, 16-19). And though there is nothing approaching the combination of power expressed in the control over the metal with the institution of kingship as in the Luba state (Roberts 2007, 31, the ‘metaphors of iron-working’), the role of Ogun, the orisa of iron invoked in a wide range of activities in Yoruba daily life, is a related expression of the desire to enlist the power of iron found in many other parts of West Africa (Akin Ege and Rehren 2009).

Politics and Iron There is often a mismatch in the picture of the iron industry in Africa, punching under its industrial weight compared with its political heft, having in mind both the social placement of smiths in many societies and the elevation of the craft itself. It may be typical of West Africa, as it seems to be in other parts of the world, that those people associated with iron have always been afforded a distinctive position in the community (that is presumably when the need for iron artefacts was high) and in this region that position was usually more elevated than depressed (see, inter alia, Childs and Herbert 2005, 288).

Concomitants of Decay As an antidote to the long-standing discussion about how iron production was first developed in Africa, it may be pertinent to pose the question: How many times has the production of iron in western Africa died out? There are at present so many geographical and chronological gaps in the record of the iron age story in Africa, that this is an impossible question to answer, but given the increasingly frequent reports of fluctuations in levels of production, it would be likely that this did occur from time to time in a number of locations.

Considering the status of smiths vis-à-vis smelters in some communities, as we have seen, it is the smith who is more often given high status, the process of smelting being something preliminary, that there are fewer controls over, but smithing is a special skill, which resides in only a few families. Schmidt has explained this by turning it on its head, saying that the smelting process is too deeply symbolic of fundamental material transformations to be subject to control (it is done in the bush, whereas smithing is more ‘civilised’ or ‘civilising’) although this is linked by him to the more basic sexual analogies that can be exploited in relation to smelting (1997, 210-15) therefore not to be played about with lightly.

As far as the end game itself is concerned, it would be useful to map the locations of the most recent survivals of late iron production in the region, such as that at Kâyn in the Yatenga area of Burkina Faso in 1962 (Martinelli 2004, 179) or in various Mandara sites in the 1960s (summarised in Langlois and Otto 2008), as well as what has contributed to the process of cessation, taking David’s most recent comments into account (2008, 15-18). It would also be desirable, as much as available evidence allows, to look at the whole chronological range of decay in local production centres. The reasons for the demise of iron production are as many-faceted as the degrees of variation in operation. Principal among these is the introduction and elaboration of external sources of supply associated with increasing European penetration of the region. Childs and Herbert refer to ‘massive imports of scrap iron’ undermining ‘local production by the 20th century’ (2005, 290) but the situation needs more careful and nuanced description than this. What do we know of the detailed scale of iron imports to West Africa from the 16th century onwards? As I have indicated elsewhere (2008, 20-23) iron has been imported in large quantities, but usually in the form of bars or complete artefacts or blanks from which tools can be fashioned, rather than as scrap, which was by and large a local phenomenon. Also the role of deforestation needs similar more detailed studies to see to what extent it applied in forest environments as well as in the wooded savannas (see Childs and Herbert 2005, 294; also Eichhorn et al. 2009, 59).

De Barros indicates that, despite the economic significance of iron production, the degree of political centralisation in Bassar and some other major West African ironworking centres was small-scale. How accurately can something like this be measured? There are a number of scenarios covering the forms of linkage between political centralisation and control of iron production, many demonstrating indirect forms of control, such as in the Cameroon Grassfields (Warnier and Fowler, 1979) or the example of Bassar itself maintaining a precarious independence from Dagomba slave-raiding incursions. Another is in the Togo Hills of Ghana, from which there is ambiguous data concerning the extent to which the Asante confederacy attempted to control the output of the Mawu (Akpafu) furnaces (Pole, 2010). There are examples of political centralisation accompanying or requiring the intensification of iron production, indicative of more direct and significant control, in ancient Ghana, Mali, Nupe, and Benin, summarised by de Barros (2000, 15859). And yet an uneasy truce may frequently have existed between ironworkers and the state, reflective of the often antagonistic relationships between them; the ironworkers, by their very basis deriving special powers from the earth, and political potentates, often incomers, exerting political control over communities. The two maintained a dynamic

Next Steps It is chastening to realize that even in 1988 the McIntoshes were arguing in favour of a movement away from a fixation on establishing early dates, whether linked to evidence of the indigenous development of iron-working or not, to 61

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives References

bolster single hypothesis issues: ‘future efforts directed toward elucidating the anthropology of early metallurgy in West Africa will, we believe, prove more rewarding than continued preoccupation with describing its history’ (1988, 110, their italics).

Akin Ige, O. and Rehren, T. 2009. Yoruba Iron Metallurgy: Raw materials, routine and rituals. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. Alpern, Stanley B. 2005. Did They or Didn’t They Invent It? Iron in Sub-Saharan Africa. History in Africa 32, 41-94. Ameje, James. 2008. Traditional iron working in parts of the Nok culture area: notes and posers from preliminary investigations. Paper at Society of Africanist Archaeologists Conference, Frankfurt, Sept 2008. Aremu, David. 1999. Preservation of Ampara and Delimiri Ironworking sites: Towards the promotion of Nigeria's Cultural Heritage. African Archaeological Review 16, 199-210. Aremu, David. 2004. Iron Roads in Africa: A contribution from Nigeria, in Bocoum H. (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 150-164. Paris, UNESCO. Bocoum, Hamady. 2004. Iron Metallurgy in Africa: A heritage and a resource for development, in Bocoum, H. (ed) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 97108. Paris, UNESCO. Brauns, Michael. 2009. Production and trade of iron in the iron age of southern Germany. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. Calvocoressi, David and David, N. 1979. A new survey of radiocarbon and thermoluminescence dates for West Africa. Journal of African History 20, 1-29. Childs, Terry and Herbert, E. 2005. Metallurgy and its Consequences, in Stahl, A.B. (ed.) African Archaeology: A Critical Introduction, 276-300. Oxford, Blackwell. Clist, Bernard. 2009. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. Darling, Patrick. 1986. Fieldwork Surveys in and around Kano State, Nigeria, 1982-1985. Nyame Akuma 27, 3941. Darling, Patrick and Aremu, D. 2009. The World's Earliest Iron Smelting? Its inception, evolution and impact in Northern Nigeria. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. David, Nicholas. 2001. Lost in the third hermeneutic? Theory and methodology, objects and representations in the ethnoarchaeology of African metallurgy. Mediterranean Archaeology 14, "The Origins of Iron Metallurgy" 49-72. David, Nicholas. 2008. Ricardo in the Mandara mountains: iron, comparative advantage and specialisation. Paper at Society of Africanist Archaeologists Conference, Frankfurt, Sept 2008. David, Nicholas, Heimann, R., Killick, D. and Wayman, M. 1989. Between bloomery and blast furnace: Mafa iron-smelting technology in North Cameroon. African Archaeological Review 7, 183-208. David, Nicholas and Killick, D. (eds.) forthcoming. Metallurgy and Society in the Mandara Mountains. Davies, Oliver. 1967. West Africa before the Europeans. London, Methuen & Co. de Barros, Philip. 2000. Iron metallurgy: Sociocultural Context, in Vogel, J.O. (ed) Ancient African metallurgy

It is also important to stress the central importance of gathering more data on the demand side of the economic equation. David’s figures concerning the average output in Mandara (2008) should encourage others to search their databases for information on consumption. Even in communities which were judged, by whatever criteria, to be ‘fully iron-using’, this may not have resulted in large consumption of iron products on a regular basis, but then the average consumption per head per year of iron in ‘fully industrialised societies’ may also surprise us. What other signs exist of future research directions? Cues come from Childs and Herbert (2005, 293): testing the hypothesis that ‘metal technology has been accompanied by ritual behaviours from the beginning’; finding further evidence for delineating the relationship between the increasing presence of iron and state formation; the influence of the transatlantic slave trade. I would also like to see more focus on the scale of production, trade and the factors influencing the disappearance of iron production, including the possible impact of deforestation. Perhaps most critically, to pursue the possibility of understanding the metallurgical complexities in greater detail, including osmium isotope analysis (Brauns et al, 2009, 27), also encompassing the extent to which these were understood by the practitioners themselves. Maybe one could also put in a plea for more work to be done on political and social ramifications of iron working (vide Schmidt). As I have remarked above, some reviewers, such as Haour (2003) and Alpern (2005), have advocated scepticism; the latter ends by quoting Cline on the forlornness of the hope of coming to a decision between diffusion and independent invention for any form of metal working (2005, 94). I would like to end on a more positive note by emphasising the progress that has been achieved in the last decade, particularly in delineating in increasing detail the contours of the complex interaction between the mechanisms of production and distribution, and the politics of iron, as they existed over the last 2500 years. Not unconnected with this, it is encouraging to note the current proliferation of visual evidence to demonstrate this complexity and variability, not only in the form of film and video (how many more can now be added to the list in the Appendix to Herbert 1993?), also through the preservation of standing remains in situ, such as those in the Yankari National Park, Nigeria (see Aremu 2004, also 1999). There is also the essential matter of awareness-raising within the local community by means of such events as the Iron Festival recently established in Mawu, in Ghana’s Volta Region (Pole 2009, 16; and 2010).

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Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa – The socio-cultural context, 147-198. AltaMira, Walnut Creek. de Barros, Philip. 2001. The Effect of the Slave Trade on the Bassar Ironworking Society, in deCorse, C. (ed.) West Africa During the Atlantic Slave Trade, 59-80. Leicester University Press. de Barros, Philip. 2009. A Comparison of Early and Later Iron Age Societies in the Bassar Region of Northern Togo. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. de Grunne, Bernard. 1998. The Birth of Art in Africa. Paris, Adam Biro. de Maret, Pierre. 1985. Recent archaeological research and dates from Central Africa. Journal of African History 26, 129-48. de Maret, Pierre. 2004. Central Africa: Knowing Iron, in Bocoum (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 127-134. Paris, UNESCO. de Maret, Pierre and Thiry, G. 1996. How Old Is the Iron Age in Central Africa?, in Schmidt, P. (ed.) The Culture & Technology of African Iron Production, 29-39. University Press Florida. Deme, Alioune. 2003. Archaeological Investigations of Settlement and Emerging Complexity in the Middle Senegal Valley. PhD thesis, Rice University, Houston, Texas. Eichhorn, Barbara, Robion-Brunner, C., Perret, S. and Serneels, V. 2009. Fuel for Iron - Metallurgy and Wood Exploitation in the Dogon country, Mali. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. Essomba, Joseph-Marie. 2004. Status of Iron-Age Archaeology in Southern Cameroon, in Bocoum, H. (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 135147. Paris, UNESCO. Eze-Uzomaka, Pamela I. 2009. Iron & its influence on the Prehistoric site of Lejja. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. Fagg, Angela. 1972. Excavations of an occupation site in the Nok valley, Nigeria. West African Journal of Archaeology 2, 75-79. Fagg, Bernard. 1969. New light on the Nok culture. World Archaeology 1, 41-49. Fagg, Bernard. 1990. Nok Terracottas, (2nd ed.). London, Ethnographica. Fluzin, Philippe. 2004. The Process Chain in Iron and Steelmaking: Archaeological Materials and Procedures. The Contribution of Metallographical Studies, in Bocoum, H. (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 65-96. Paris, UNESCO. Francis-Boeuf, Claude. 1937. L'Industrie Autochtone de Fer en Afrique Occidentale Française. Bulletin du Comité d'Etudes Historiques et Scientifiques de l'AOF 20, 403-463. Gallay, Alain. 2001. Diffusion ou Invention: un faux débat pour l'archéologie?. Mediterranean Archaeology 14. "The Origins of Iron Metallurgy", 10-20. Grébénart, Danilo. 1983. Les métallurgies du cuivre et du fer autour d’Agadez (Niger), des origines au début de la période médiévale, in Echard, N. (ed.) Métallurgies Africaines: Nouvelles contributions, 109-126. Paris,

Mémoires de la Société des Africanistes, 9. Grébénart, Danilo. 1988. Les premiers métallurgistes en Afrique occidentale, Paris, Errance. Haour, Anne. 2003. One Hundred Years of Archaeology in Niger. Journal of World Prehistory 17, 181-234. Herbert, Eugenia. 1993. Iron, Gender and Power. Bloomington, Indiana University Press. Holl, Augustin. 1993. Transition from Late Stone Age to Iron Age in the Sudano-Sahelian zone: a case study from the Perichadian plain, in Shaw, C.T. et al (eds.) The Archaeology of Africa: Food, metals and towns, 330-343. London, Routledge: One World Archaeology 20. Holl, Augustin. 2000. Metals and Precolonial African Society in Vogel, J. O. (ed) Ancient African Metallurgy - The socio-cultural context, 1-81. AltaMira, Walnut Creek. Huysecom, Eric. 2001. Technique et croyance des forgerons africains: éléments pour une approche ethnoarchéologique. Mediterranean Archaeology 14, "The Origins of Iron Metallurgy", 73-82. Huysecom, Eric. 2001. The Beginnings of Iron Metallurgy: From Sporadic Inventions to Irreversible Generalisations. Mediterranean Archaeology 14, "The Origins of Iron Metallurgy", 3-11. Insoll, T. ed. 2008. Current Archaeological Research in Ghana. British Archaeological Reports International Series, 1847. Isichei, Elizabeth. 1983. A History of Nigeria. London, Longman. Izard, Michel. 1983. Les royaume du Yatênga et ses forgerons: une recherche d'histoire du peuplement (Haute Volta), in Echard (ed.) Métallurgies Africaines, Nouvelles contributions, 253-279. Paris, Mémoires de la Société des Africanistes, 9. Jemkur, Joseph F. 1992. Aspects of the Nok Culture. Zaria, Ahmadu Bello University. Jemkur, Joseph F. 2004. Beginnings of Iron metallurgy in West Africa, in Bocoum, H. (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 33-42. Paris, UNESCO. Jemkur, Joseph F. 2006. The Nok Culture Terracotta Sculptures from Central Nigeria in Chesi, G. and Merzeder G. (eds) The Nok Culture, 15-20. Prestel Verlag. Kense, Francois. 1983. Traditional African iron-working. University of Calgary, Dept. Archaeology: African Occasional Papers 1. Kense, Francois. 1985. The Initial Diffusion of Iron to Africa, in Haaland, R. & Shinnie, P. (eds.) African Iron Working - Ancient and Traditional, 11-27. Norwegian University Press. Kienon-Kabore, Timpoko. 2009. Paleo Iron & Steel Metallurgy in Sub-Saharan Africa: The Case of Bulkiemde Provinces in Burkina Faso. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. Kiethega, J.B. 1981. La carte du fer en Haute Volta. Archéologie en Afrique, 9. Paris, Recherches Pédagogie et Culture. Killick, David. 2003. Appendix C2: Laboratory Study of

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives et al (eds) The Archaeology of Africa: Food, metals and towns, 432-448. London, Routledge: One World Archaeology 20. Okafor, Edwin E. 2004. 25 centuries of bloomery ironsmelting in Nigeria in Bocoum, H. (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 43-54. Paris, UNESCO. Pole, Len. 1985. A Ruhr or rural industry? The scale of iron production in West Africa. Museum Ethnographers Group Newsletter 17, 41-59. Pole, Len. 2008. Steeling Themselves: Effects of External Trade on West African Ironworkers. Journal of Museum Ethnography 20, 17-32. Pole, Len. 2009. Refining narratives: transformations of iron working traditions in Ghana. World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009 [plus paper submitted for publication]. Pole, Len. 2010. The Hammers of Mawu: Ironworking Traditions in the Togo Hills, Ghana. African Archaeological Review, 27 (1), 43-78. Posnansky, Merrick. 2005. Report on 10th meeting of the West African Archaeological Association in Porto Novo. Nyame Akuma 63, 34-6 Pringle, Heather. 2009. Seeking Africa’s First Iron Men. Science 323 (9 Jan 2009), 200-202. Quéchon, Gerard. 2002. Les datations de la métallurgie du fer à Termit (Niger): leur fiabilité, leur signification, in Bocoum (ed.) Aux Origines de la Métallurgie du fer en Afrique, 105-114. Paris, UNESCO. Quéchon, Gerard. 2004. Iron Metallurgy Datings from Termit (Niger): Their reliability and significance in Bocoum, H. (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 109-118. Paris, UNESCO. Randsborg, Klavs. 2009. Archaeology in Bénin and Ghana: Danish funding and collaboration over the past decade. Paper at West African Archaeology conference, Sheffield, June 2009. Robert-Chaleix, Denise & Sognane, M. 1983. Une industrie métallurgique ancienne sur la rive mauritanienne du fleuve Sénégal, in Echard (ed) Métallurgies Africaines, Nouvelles contributions, 45–62. Paris, Mémoires de la Société des Africanistes, 9. Roberts, Mary N. & A. F. 2007. Visions of Africa: Luba. Milan, 5 Continents editions. Robion-Brunner, Caroline. 2008. The Jèmè-irin, an example of the development of blacksmith clans: social status and iron working. Paper at Society of Africanist Archaeologists Conference, Frankfurt, Sept 2008. Robion-Brunner, Caroline, Perret, S. & Serneels, V., Dembele, A., Huysecom, E. 2006. A thousand years of iron metallurgy in the Dogon country, Mali. Paper at Society of Africanist Archaeologists Conference, Calgary, 2006. Robion-Brunner, Caroline, Perret, S. & Serneels, V. 2009. Variability in Iron Smelting Practices: confrontation of technical, cultural and economic criteria to explain metallurgical diversity in the Dogon area (Mali). World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. Roy, Christopher D. 2009. Film of smelting at Bamogo, shown at World of Iron Conference, Feb 2009.

Slags, Ores and Refractories from Walaldé, Sénégal, in Deme, A. Archaeological Investigations of Settlement and Emerging Complexity in the Middle Senegal Valley, 373-388. Ph.D thesis, Rice University, Houston Texas. Killick, David. 2004. Review Essay: What Do We Know About African Iron Working? Journal of African Archaeology 2, 97-112. Killick, David. 2005. Technology in Africa South of the Sahara in Carlson, W.B. (ed.) Technology in World History. Oxford University Press. Killick, David, van der Merwe, N., Gordon, R.B., Grebenart, D. 1988. Reassessment of the Evidence for Early Metallurgy in Niger, West Africa. Journal of Archaeological Science 15, 369. Langlois, Olivier & Otto, T. 2008. The Building of a down-draft furnace at Molkwo (Mandara Mountains, Northern Cameroon) in 1989. Paper at Society of Africanist Archaeologists Conference, Frankfurt, Sept 2008. Mabogunje, A.L. 1971. The Land and Peoples of West Africa, chapter 1 in Ajayi & Crowder (eds.), History of West Africa 1, 1-32. MacEachern, Scott. 1996. Iron Age Beginnings North of the Mandara Mountains, Cameroon and Nigeria, in Pwiti, G. & Soper, R. (eds) Aspects of African Archaeology, 489-95. Harare. Maes-Diop, Louise-Marie. 2004. Assessment of the Dating of Ancient Relics of Ironworking in Africa: Main Lessons in Bocoum, H. (ed.) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 189-193. Paris, UNESCO. Martinelli, Bruno. 2004. On the Threshold of Intensive Metallurgy: The choice of slow combustion in the Niger River bend, in Bocoum, H. (ed) The Origins of Iron Metallurgy in Africa, 165-188. Paris, UNESCO. McIntosh, Roderick J. & S.K. 1981. The Inland Niger Delta before the empire of Mali. Journal of African History 22, 1-22 McIntosh, Susan K. 2005. Archaeology & the Reconstruction of the African Past, in Philips, J.E. (ed.) Writing African History, 51-85. University of Rochester Press. McIntosh, Susan K. & R.J. 1986. Recent archaeological research and dates from West Africa. Journal of African History 27, 413-42. McIntosh, Susan K. & R.J. 1988. From Stone to Metal: New perspectives on the later prehistory of West Africa. Journal of World Prehistory 2, 89-133. McIntosh, Susan K. & R.J. 1993. Cities without citadels: understanding urban origins along the middle Niger, in Shaw, C.T. et al (eds.) The Archaeology of Africa: Food, metals and towns, 622-641. London, Routledge: One World Archaeology 20. McNaughton, Patrick R. 1988. The Mande Blacksmiths: Knowledge, Power and Art in West Africa. Bloomington, Indiana University Press. Nadel, S.N. 1942. A Black Byzantium. Oxford University Press. Okafor, Edwin E. 1993. New evidence on early ironsmelting from southeastern Nigeria, in Shaw, C.T.

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Recent Developments in iron-working research in West Africa World of Iron Conference Abstracts, Feb 2009. van der Merwe, Nicolaas J. 1980. The Advent of Iron in Africa, in Wertime, T.A. and Muhly, J.D. (eds.) The Coming of the Age of Iron, 463-505. Yale University Press. Vaughan, James H. 1973. ‘Enkyagu as Artists in Marghi Society’ in d'Azevedo, W. (ed.) The Traditional Artist in African Societies, 162-193. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Warnier, Jean-Pierre and Fowler, I. 1979. A 19th century Ruhr in Central Africa. Africa 49, 329-351. Woodhouse, James. 1998. Iron in Africa: Metal from Nowhere, in Connah, G. (ed.) Transformations in Africa, 160-185. Leicester University Press. Zangato, Etienne. 1999. Societes Préhistoriques et Megalithes dans le nord-ouest de la République Centrafricaine, British Archaeological Reports S768, Oxford: BAR Publishing. Zangato, Etienne. 2008. Les Ateliers d'Oboui. Paris, Editions Recherche sur les Civilisations.

Rustad, John A. 1980. The Emergence of iron technology in East Africa, with special emphasis on the Nok Culture of Nigeria, in Swartz, B.K. & Dumett, R.E. (eds.) West African Culture Dynamics, 227-245. The Hague, Mouton. Schmidt, Peter. 1996. Cultural representations of African iron production, chapter 1 in Schmidt, P. (ed.) The Culture & Technology of African Iron Production, 1-28. Florida University Press. Schmidt, Peter. 1997. An Archaeology of African Iron Symbolism, chapter 9 in Schmidt, P. Iron Technology in East Africa, 209-230. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Schmidt, Peter. 2001. Resisting Homogenization and Recovering Variation and Innovation in African Iron Smelting, in Mediterranean Archaeology 14, "The Origins of Iron Metallurgy", 219-227. Sundstrom, Lars. 1974. The Iron Trade, in Sundstrom, L., The Exchange Economy of Pre-Colonial Tropical Africa, 187-217. London, Hurst & Co. Thiombiano, Elise. 2009. Old Metallurgy in Gulmu (Burkina Faso): An important technological diversity.

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Beyond Art. Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeria Dr Nicole Rupp

Goethe University, African Archaeology and Archaeobotany, Grueneburgplatz 1, 60323 Frankfurt/ M, Germany [email protected]

Abstract The Nok Culture of Central Nigeria is well known for its terracotta figurines, depicting animals and humans up to life-size. Beside the clay sculptures, Nok iron smelting sites are still among the earliest remains of iron metallurgy in sub-Saharan Africa (Tylecote 1975). Apart from iron and clay sculptures dated about 500 BC to AD 200, virtually nothing was known about the socio-economic background of this inventive community, although it possibly constituted a link between agricultural origins of the 2nd millennium BC and the West African empires and states that emerged at the end of 1st millennium AD. In view of their significance, we have been investigating Nok sites since 2005 with the intention to study the material culture, the economic and environmental context, the settlement pattern, as well as the age and chronological sub-division of the whole complex. Our team revealed new data which might also throw light on the still enigmatic functions of the terracottas. Keywords: Early Iron Age, transition, Central Nigeria, Nok Culture, terracotta sculptures

Introduction

produced in societies, which relied on ritual, magic and religious actions to overcome environmental instability and threats to the fertility of plants and animals (e.g. Bailey 1994, 321). Thus figurines are seen as representing priests, gods, deceased or people of higher rank. Others see the sculptures as thatch finials of round huts, fertility and/or ancestor figurines (Fagg 1969; 1977; Shaw 1978). The interpretation as grave goods (Jemkur 1992, 71f.) is stimulated by the discovery of Nok sculptures used as grave goods in recent burials or shrines (Jemkur 1992, 71). Most speculative is the function as “royal art” of an unknown kingdom (Ehret 2002, 234; Willett 1983). All interpretations suffer from a lack of conclusive evidence. They are based only on finds made accidentally without contextual information. Since the days of Bernard Fagg only little archaeological work has been conducted on Nok sites to change the situation. Consequently, the Nok Culture has remained an enigmatic entity dated to between about 500 BC and AD 200, and known only by some iron furnaces and terracotta figurines of obscure function.

The Nok culture was named after the village, where the first terracotta head was found by tin miners in 1928. About twenty years later, Bernard Fagg, British archaeologist and curator of the Federal Department of Antiquities in Nigeria, became aware of more clay figurines and realised the archaeological potential of the sculptures. He started to collect terracotta systematically from the tin mines during the following years. Discoveries of terracotta from localities in other regions followed and indicated a considerable distribution of Nok sites over an area of 500 km in N-S direction (Figure 1). Because of their similarity he regarded the figurines as the “product of a single culture” (Fagg 1990, 24). The “Nok Culture” was born and became popular far beyond Nigeria after the first publications (Fagg 1968; 1977). One of the excavations conducted by Fagg in the 1970s attracted particular attention. In Taruga (Figure 1), he recovered terracotta fragments in context with ironsmelting furnaces. Radiocarbon measurements dated the site to the mid-first millennium BC (Fagg 1965). Thus, the so-called “Nok Culture” was not only the earliest complex with elaborated sculptural figurines, but also provided one of the earliest evidences of iron metallurgy in sub-Saharan Africa (Fagg 1968; Tylecote 1975).

Current Research and its Background Based on preliminary work carried out since 2005, a long-term, multidisciplinary research project of the German Research Foundation (DFG) was established at the Goethe-University in Frankfurt, Germany, in 2009. Entitled "Development of complex societies in subSaharan Africa: The Nigerian Nok culture" the project aims to explore the cultural background of the terracotta figurines and place the Nok Culture into the context of the emergence of complex societies in sub-Saharan Africa. The investigations are carried out in close cooperation with Nigerian partners from the National Commission for Museums and Monuments, and Prof Joseph Jemkur from the University of Jos.

The clay figurines portray humans and animals. Some reach life-size, but the majority have a height between 30 and 70 cm, and very small ones (~ 10 cm) are also common. All have distinctive attributes, like pierced pupils set into shallow triangles, applied eye brows or extravagant hairdos or headgears. Another characteristic is the very coarse temper, consisting of quartz and feldspar, which initially was covered by a slip to obtain a smooth surface. In most cases the slip has gone, unless the figurine was embedded deep in the ground The function of the Nok sculptures is a wide field of speculation. Some interpretations claim that figurines were 67

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives The starting point of the project goes back to the beginning of the 1990s, when our team was working in the Nigerian Chad Basin. Here, we discovered fundamental changes occurring from the mid-1st millennium BC, comprising agglomeration of people in large, partly fortified settlements and indicating population growth. Further, there is evidence of specialisation, productive economic systems, systematized exchange of lithic resources, and technological advances through the advent of iron metallurgy (Breunig 2009). Based on these results, the question arose, whether the changes were a phenomenon restricted to the Nigerian Chad Basin, or whether similar developments existed contemporaneously somewhere else in West and Central Africa. Respective research, carried out during 2004-2009 in a project of the German Research Foundation (“Cultural and Environmental Change in West and Central Africa”) confirmed the hypothetical approach that the Nok Culture also represented a comparable cultural upswing, including elaborate ritual practices unknown elsewhere during this period (Rupp et al. 2005; 2008; Kahlheber et al. 2009).

investigation in the subsequent phase of the project. They also will facilitate insight into the settlement system of the Nok Culture, e.g. hypothetical differences between the plains as economic and social centres, and the mountainous regions as more sparsely populated retreat areas.

Another reason to intensify research on the Nok Culture now is the fact that urgency is demanded to rescue data as long as they are available. Nok sites are systematically looted for their terracottas to be sold on the international art market. Many sites have already been destroyed, and there is no reason to assume that the remaining part will not follow. It appears as if the Nok Culture will win notoriety as an archaeological complex destroyed totally for commercial reasons unless science intervenes immediately.

The project has the challenging task to investigate an archaeological complex which existed for several centuries in an area of approximately 100,000 km², and which, until recently, was known only by its terracotta figurines and sparse evidence of iron metallurgy. To increase our knowledge of the Nok Culture, new data obtained by archaeological prospection and excavation are necessary.

Geographical setting of sites The sites of the Nok Culture spread over an area of 500x300 km in the Centre of Nigeria (Figure 1). Most of the sites are located in the Northern High Plains and the hilly foreland of the Jos Plateau northeast of the Nigerian capital of Abuja. Here, the relief is undulating and interspersed with granite outcrops. Elevations occur between 300 and 900 meters above sea level. The region receives annual rainfall of 1300-1400 mm (Adefolalu 2003) and belongs to the Southern Guinea vegetation zone (Keay 1953). We concentrated on a case study area in the centre of the region between Abuja and Jos, where the bulk of investigated sites are located (Figure 1). Prospection

As a first step we conducted intensive surveys, which led to the location of almost 100 sites (Figure 2). This result would not have been possible without contributions by local informants, and will even improve in future, since a recently constructed research station has become a wellknown contact point, where locals leave information on sites. Foreigners have no chance to locate sites by themselves in the vastness of the mostly forested areas. Apart from looted sites recognisable by the scattered fragments of terracotta and other artefacts, virgin sites are invisible. Although cultural materials of the Nok Culture are embedded not deep in the ground - like the only complete terracotta found so far excavated from a bit more than 10 centimetres depth - there are no distinctive marks visible on the surface. Dense vegetation hides all formerly existing archaeological traces.

Motivated by the scientific importance of the Nok Culture and the preservation of a unique archaeological phenomenon, the 12 years programme has been scheduled to concentrate on chronology, settlement patterns, and regional diversity as thematic priorities. As with every entity of the past, chronology is a central requirement for the understanding of the Nok culture and thus constitutes the main focus of the first research phase. The plan is to locate, excavate and analyse as many find inventories as possible from various time periods of the Nok culture. Test excavations are carried out at all known, newly discovered and undisturbed sites, but also at looted sites, where cultural layers in most cases still can be found at the fringes of the site. Presently, a total of about 100 sites are known (Figure 2) – a number increasing daily during the fieldwork period through information from local people. It is reasonable to suggest that the sites belong to different time periods and can provide a suitable basis for the chronological study. Accompanying archaeobotanical sampling enables radiocarbon dating of annual plant remains to avoid the “old wood” problem. In this way a precise chronological framework will be established and complemented by dated sequences of ceramic inventories and other find categories, as well as information about site size and parameters of location in the natural environment. These data will permit the selection of appropriate sites for

In general, the known sites extend over several hundred meters. This, and the proximity of many sites almost everywhere in the research area, points to a density of occupation higher than today and to population growth as a social attribute of the Nok Culture. Appearance of Nok sites Sites appear in a large variety of environments and geographical positions like hilltops, slopes or flat plains without any recognisable preferences. We intend to find out relevant parameters for the location of sites to model the settlement system. But sites do not only differ in their environmental position. They also differ in the appearance 68

a

Beyond Art. Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeri

Figure 1: The sites of the Nok Culture in Central Nigeria are distributed over an area of 500x300 m. The rectangle indicates the research area.

Figure 2: Research area with Nok sites excavated (white) or documented by the project (black) and sites mentioned in the text.

of the archaeological remains, which indicate functional variations yet to be explained. Thus, differentiation and interpretation of site types remains a main task. As preliminary categories, we differentiated settlements, ritual sites, iron-smelting sites and single find sites. Apart

from yet unknown burial sites, terracotta figurines are found on all site types and seem to play a key role in their interpretation and indicate that they have been part of the everyday life.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives An important objective is to distinguish between settlement and ritual sites. Those suitable for such a definition vary considerably. Besides large sites of 10 hectares or more, there are small sites with an extent of only about 100 m². While the larger ones may represent central places, the others could be single compounds. We tentatively suggest a hierarchy of sites with various functions, to be defined and interpreted in detail. Unambiguous evidence exists for both site types: sites with terracotta finds only (Utak Kamuan Garaje Kagoro, see below) and sites with large amounts of settlement material such as ceramics, grinding stones, charcoal and plant remains (Ungwar Kura). It has to be checked whether this dichotomy is correct or if there are transitional forms, e.g. pure ritual places, ritual places with settlement features, settlements with ritually used sectors, or pure settlements. Other types of sites exist and their relations to settlements and ritual sites need to be clarified.

development, potential causes for the absence of certain find categories (e.g. faunal remains), and about colluvial removal and redeposition of artefact-containing layers. The genesis of the landscape and some of the sites is currently part of a geomorphological doctoral thesis. Corings in and around of the site of Ungwar Kura already revealed several deposition events. However, they are not dated yet because of the lack of organic remains (pers. comm. H.-M. Peiter, Goethe University). Results of excavations 25 sites were investigated by test excavations. The size of the excavated areas varies between a few square-metres up to 400 square-metres. No occupation layers with clear living floors have been identified, yet. The most common features are pit-like structures, clearly visible as discolorations within the sterile sediments. They are often interspersed with in-situ weathered granite. Cultural deposits in most cases end by approximately 50 centimetres depth, just exceptionally they reach more than 1.50 meters. The bulk of the artefacts derive from the pits, giving the impression that they represent refuse pits.

Functionally different areas within one single site also have to be considered. In view of the large extension of the sites, it is very possible that we excavated in functionally different areas. Excavations conducted at the site of Janruwa (Figure 2) emphasised this possibility, and make this site an ideal candidate for large-scale excavations in later phases of the project. The excavated areas are several hundred meters distance from each other and revealed completely different inventories. While one area was rich in fragments of figurines, the majority of finds in another one consist of pottery, and a scarcity of finds of all categories characterised the last one. Besides functional partition, chronological separation also cannot be excluded. A transect between the three excavations will throw light on these aspects.

The discolorations are caused by high concentrations of charcoal. The charcoal derives from different contexts, because neither the deposits in the pits nor the artefacts show any effect of fire. But not from too far, since some of the charcoal pieces are really huge. Some of them measure several centimetres across. However, no places where fire was burning have been identified so far. Evidence of fire is also attested by lumps of burnt clay as a consistent part of the excavated assemblages. They represent either remains from wattle and daub constructions or furnaces and ovens.

Iron smelting or blacksmiths sites are easy to identify through furnaces as found in Taruga (Fagg 1968, Tylecote 1975). Another smelting furnace of the Nok Culture was found at a site called Joh Mari, located near the village of Nok (Figure 1). A report of terracotta fragments found in the furnace, given by the farmer who discovered it, might be reliable, because excavated charcoal was dated to about 200 BC. A relationship between terracotta and the practice of iron smelting was already suggested by Bernard Fagg, referring to terracotta finds close to furnaces (Fagg 1969, 49). Other evidence of metallurgy includes some rare finds of iron objects, iron slag, possible remains of furnace walls or fragments of tuyeres. Yet, there is no clear evidence whether iron-smelting was practised in the settlements or at separate sites outside of the settlement area. In view of the significance of iron technology in general and the origin of metallurgy in sub-Saharan Africa, which is the subject of controversial discussions, sites with iron-working evidence will deserve special attention during all project phases. It is not totally impossible that the Nok Culture was among those complexes which invented the production of iron.

Besides pits, accumulations of unmodified, hand-sized stones constitute another regular occurring feature. In some cases they were used to coat pits. At least in two cases the stones followed the outline of the discolouration. It might be that the frequently found stone arrangements in the shape of basement-like structures are relicts of those pit-coatings (Figure 3). Stones are also part of features which look like deliberate depositions. These structures consist of several huge quartz boulders set in a row. In front of them are placed one or more complete pots, distinguished from ordinary vessels by careful decoration. In the case of the site of Ido, excavated in 2009, almost all of these stones were upright standing grinding stones. In front of them were two small complete pots and adjacent to these a row of stone beads, arranged like around somebody’s neck. Figure 4 shows the stone settings from Ido and similar ones from other sites. A burial might be a conclusive explanation of such features. However, all bones, either human or animal, have been dissolved in the acidic soils of the Nok area. Since one explanation of the purpose of terracotta figurines concerns grave goods in burials, the identification of bones through detection of decomposition products by geochemical

The understanding of sediment genesis and postsedimentary changes is essential for the interpretation of the sites. We need information about the duration of their

70

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Beyond Art. Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeri

Figure 3: Enigmatic “stone beds” made of arrangements of small stones. They occur regularly at Nok sites. Their function is unknown.

4. Some of the stones used for this kind of arrangement are grinding stones. Adjacent to the stones are often one or two finely decorated pots. In some cases we found stone beads, arranged in a row. Terracotta fragments of considerable size are often part of the stone-pot-arrangements.

71

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives analysis has become an important objective. This is feasible, since even dissolved bones leave geochemical traces, especially phosphorus. Phosphorus analysis can also be useful in locating the position of decayed animal bones, thus contributing to reveal the internal structure of the sites. An X-Ray-fluorescence analyser, sponsored by the William Fagg Trust, enables us to analyse high amounts of soil samples and to establish a solid database for further interpretations of the stone-pot-terracotta arrangements. Another method for indicating different activity areas in the sites is phytolith analysis, as has been successfully applied in the Near East and Southeast Europe (MillerRosen 1999). With a combination of phosphorus, phytoliths and botanical macro-remains we might be able to identify geochemical and botanical fingerprints for distinguishing domestic areas, food preparation sites, burials, animal pens, refuse pits etc. The investigation of archaeobotanical remains yielded the first evidence for cultigens on Nok sites. All sampled sites revealed the charred remains of pearl millet (Pennisetum glaucum) and occasionally cow pea (Vigna unguiculata) as evidence for a well-developed subsistence system. Apart from these cultigens we found the kernels of wild resources like Canarium schweinfurthii (Kahlheber et al. 2009).

Figure 5. Grinding stones like these from Ido are often part of deliberate depositions like that shown in Figure 4 (left).

Cultural materials Nok sites are considerably rich in cultural materials. Apart from the numerous terracotta fragments, the archaeological inventories contain high amounts of potsherds and stone artefacts like ground stone axes or occasionally stone beads. However, the majority of the stone artefacts consist of voluminous grinding stones, grinders, pestles and other grinding tools (Figure 5). More rare are iron objects (Figure 6) whereas arrowheads are completely unknown, raising the question whether hunting was of any economic importance.

motifs such as the “raised dots” created by using roulette technique seem to exist in the Nok culture and in later times as well. Samples from the excavations at Ungwar Kura and other sites show a clear preference for groove decorations. Rims often have one or more grooves on the inside, sometimes splitting the rim lip. Comb impressions, rocker stamp, fishbone pattern, arc-shaped incisions and zig-zag-bands are further designs. The decoration is mainly on the upper parts of the pot. Huge vessels occur as well as finely decorated thin-walled pots in the shape of bowls, cups or beakers (Figure 7).

Pottery The most comprehensive find category is ceramics. Nok ceramics have not been examined, yet. Without knowing for sure how Nok pottery looks like, we rely solely on terracotta fragments for the identification of Nok sites. This explains why until now all known sites contain terracotta – we simply do not recognise sites without fragments of figurines as belonging to the Nok culture. The analysis of form, decoration technique and patterns of the pottery will be used to establish a chronology of the Nok culture and to show regional variants.

Some of the pots have an undoubtedly ceremonial character, showing applied figurines playing a drum, a couple bound in a mysterious relationship, or a torso with its hands covering the eyes (Figure 8). These skilfully made applications are part of the rim or the wall of a vessel.

The texture and colour of the potsherds look similar to the materials which were used for the sculptures. However, thin section analysis points to a slightly different composition of the clay used for terracotta and pottery (Beck 2008). Many sherds are heavily eroded and therefore the decoration has mostly vanished. Our preliminary work has revealed a few key patterns, but without chronological indications. Some

Terracotta figurines

Based on numerous radiocarbon dated ceramic inventories, the variation of form and decoration of the ceramics is currently being analysed by a Ph.D. programme and will result in a sequence that covers the duration of the Nok Culture of approximately one millennium.

Terracotta fragments are abundant on Nok sites. At some sites they even represent the majority of finds. Based on excavated materials from the settlement site of Ungwar Kura, more than four fragments were found per excavated square-metre. More than any other aspect, terracotta

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Beyond Art. Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeria

Figure 6. Iron objects from Ungwar Kura and Akura.

the latter, Nok terracottas are characterised by an extremely coarse temper, consisting of weathered granite. The temper is visible, because the surface is considerably weathered in most cases. However, remains of the former slip, preserved occasionally and better visible in thin sections, attest a formerly smooth surface. A mineralogical investigation has shown a distinctive difference in the composition of clay and temper of ceramics and terracotta fragments (Beck 2008). Whereas the ceramics appear to have been

figurines support our hypothesis that the Nok culture represents an origin of social complexity in sub-Saharan Africa. This is based on the assumption that complex societies bring forth an array of artistic expressions which often serve religious purposes or the demonstration of power as can be seen in prehistory worldwide. The sculptures will be investigated with regard to their style, function, and technique of manufacture. Concerning 73

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 7: Shape and size of the pots varies considerably.

Figure 8: Fragments of huge, thick-walled pots, most probably used in ceremonial contexts (samples from Ungwar Kura and Janruwa).

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Beyond Art. Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeria

Figure 9: Utak Kamuan Garaje Kagoro. The heaps consist of volcanic, unmodified rocks and the fragments of up to three different figurines. The soil between the stone-terracotta-heaps is sterile. Typical settlement remains like potsherds or grinding stones are lacking. produced locally, the sculptures might have been produced elsewhere since their clay is more homogeneous, but differentiated through locally added temper. Whether a centralised production existed is under research in the current Ph.D. programme.

must face the fact that, for archaeological interpretation, those examples are of little avail as long as we cannot add sober facts. Such facts we discovered in spring 2008 in the district Utak Kamuan Garaje Kagoro, close to Kafanchan (Figure 2). Here, for the first time, we found terracotta figurines in an undisturbed context, and this discovery facilitated a substantial progress in their understanding. The excavation area extended over ca 30 m2. It revealed broken anthropomorphic terracottas at intervals of 2 m each (Figure 9). The degree of fragmentation and their placement lead us to conclude that they did not break naturally but were deliberately shattered. All fragments are associated with unmodified volcanic stones that could have served this purpose.

For the first time since Bernard Fagg’s discoveries, the stylistic analysis of Nok terracottas can be based on archaeological recorded finds and not on pieces from art collections. To date, explanations on the function of the terracottas are often rather speculative, based only on accidental, single finds without contextual information. A look into the ethnographic record shows that terracotta and/ or figurines in general play a central role within African communities up to today. People might use them as part of a shrine in the house, representing powerful gods, ancestors or the recently deceased (Partridge 1905, 224). They also are still part of complex rituals, for instance as funeral figurines (Hollis 1958). These do not necessarily have to be positioned close to the actual grave of the deceased person (Jensen 1936, 225, 421ff; Kronenberg and Kronenberg 1981). Others function as grave markers, representing outstanding persons like the blacksmith (Hollis 1958; Harris 1938; Fitzgerald 1944; 1958; Willett 1967) or rulers (Blier 1998, 157). Figurines also could be part of healing and curing rituals (e.g. Berns 1993). The list of ethnographic and contemporary references for the use of terracottas could be easily enlarged. Although “one logical solution of the vexed problem of interpreting ancient clay figurines can be to seek explanation from analogues of present day practices” (Jayaswal and Krishna 1986, 2), we

Settlement remains, such as ceramics, grinding equipment or the large amount of charcoal found on other sites was absent. A small piece of charcoal found in association with one of the features was dated to the 5th century BC (2392 ± 27 bp). It appears as if the site exclusively served for the deposition of terracottas, which were either destroyed in situ or brought there in an already fragmented condition. Most probably the latter was the case, because there are no fragments scattered around the features. This should be the case if the figurines were smashed in-situ, unless the destruction happened inside a narrow pit. The idea of a symbolic extinction of individual specimens is not really convincing, since refitting has shown that the features contain more than one single terracotta. The stone75

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 10: Utak Kamuan Garaje Kagoro. Though the figurines are broken, they are well preserved and display individual attributes like body decorations or adornments. Refitting points to the remains of at least two, if not three figurines of considerable size. terracotta-heaps consist of bigger parts of at least two or even three different figurines (Figure 10). This verifies the assumption that sculptures were smashed somewhere else – maybe with the associated stones – and deposited afterwards, whereby some pieces must have been left behind, since the excavated fragments do not merge into complete figurines in all cases. The compact appearance of the features points to the packing of the broken terracotta parts into a repository, for instance a basket.

thousands of fragments with information about their spatial distribution and associated finds. Such contextual information will help to define their role in ritual or religious practices. It is our objective to focus on the stringent standard of terracotta production. We suggest that this standard has not evolved accidentally but is the result of an intentional canon of ritual rules in all of the Nok distribution area. It could even be an early West African form of large-scale religious practices – contrary to smallscale ritual belief systems (Owoc 2008).

At a distance of about 600 meters an identical feature was found by villagers, while digging a modern burial pit. Therefore, it is possible that between the two sites more destroyed terracottas are hidden in the ground – making this area a ritual place of unique dimensions.

Stone artefacts Based on our preliminary research, stone artefacts occur regularly but not in large quantities, thus pointing to the minor importance of lithic implements. Grinding tools are the most frequent category, followed by ground stone axes, stone balls and natural stones, which are not modified but brought to the sites as manuports, where they are found regularly. Apparently there was no flaking or chipping, and no lithic cutting tools have been found, yet. Many grinding stones are broken, but are still of considerable size. Ground stone axes occur much more frequently than iron axes, indicating that iron either was rather highly valued or the production was too small to satisfy the demand. An increasing number of inventories of different ages will allow us to study whether the relation of stone axes to iron axes changed with the increased use of iron.

The supposedly ritual destruction of the terracotta might be a conclusive explanation for the large amount of fragments and the complete absence of intact figurines in all the other test excavations. If this hypothesis proves right, then the complete terracotta sculptures in museums and private collections are either forgeries or exceptions accidentally saved from destruction. The growing knowledge about the condition of the figurines in archaeological contexts will have consequences on their commercial value and eventually on the looting of Nok sites. Our project will approach the question about the function of the terracottas on a more substantiated base, with scientifically excavated data from numerous features, 76

Beyond Art. Archaeological studies on the Nok Culture, Central Nigeria Iron metallurgy

of Frankfurt/ Main. Close cooperation exists with the National Commission for Museums and Monuments, in particular with its archaeologists Dr Musa Hambolu, Dr Olalekan Akinade, James Ameje M.Sc., the former Director General Dr Joseph Eboreime, and the present Director General Yusuf Abdallah, as well as our academic partner Prof Joseph Jemkur, University of Jos.

The conversion of iron is a vital part of our programme, since its potential as a technological revolution with social consequences is another attribute of the advent of complex societies. Of overriding importance is the question whether the Nok culture was a primary centre of sub-Saharan iron production and whether this innovation was the base of its flourishing appearance. The connection between the new raw material iron and a cultural and economic upswing is obvious in many prehistoric examples. Precise dating of the metallurgical features is required to tell whether the Nok culture knew iron from its beginning, adopted it from outside, or developed the technology of iron smelting during its existence. Exact radiocarbon dates cannot be obtained for the period between 2600–2400 bp (800–400 cal BC) because of the “Hallstatt-plateau” in the 14C-calibration curve. However, there is evidence that the Nok culture existed already before the plateau (>800 cal BC). Charcoal dates of terracottas in museums or private collections have been dated prior to 800 cal BC (Boullier et al. 2002), a thermoluminescence date for a terracotta excavated by our team from Akura is dated to 892 ± 172 cal BC, and finally charcoal excavated at the Nok site of Ido has a calibrated age between 973 and 845 cal BC. If these early dates prove to be correct, the period before 800 cal BC will play a key role in the emergence of the Nok culture. Iron has not yet been found at the sites dated to this period. If iron is present from the beginning and is not only an occurrence during the later stages, Nok will participate in the competition of the search for the cradle of African metallurgy.

We are indebted to the German Embassy in Abuja for diplomatic assistance, and, in particular, to Julius Berger Nigeria PLC for generous technical support and help to cope with everyday life in a country not always easy to live in as a foreigner. Warm thanks to Angela Rackham, Bernard Fagg’s daughter, for information about her father’s discovery of the Nok Culture, and for convincing the William Buller Fagg Charitable Trust to sponsor equipment for analyzing terracotta and ceramic pots as well as soil samples by means of X-ray fluorescence. In Nigeria His Excellency, Arc. Mohammed Namadi Sambo, Executive Governor, Kaduna State, His Royal Highness, Mal. Danladi Gyet Maude, Kpop Ham, Chief of Jaba and the Chief of Kagarko are supporting the project. The District Head of Janjala, Alhaji Ahmad Shitu, generously provided a plot of land for the construction of a research station. Many thanks go to Umaro Potiskum, who guided us to Nok sites between 2005 and 2008. We feel obliged to thank the employees of the National Museum in Nok for documentary work and archaeobotanical sampling. Thanks to the labourers from the villages in the research area. They gave us their knowledge on Nok sites and their power to do a work we would not have been able to do.

Conclusion

References

Since the first discovery of the Nok terracotta figurines, there have been speculations that this sophisticated art must have had an equally developed cultural, economic and social background. Our preliminary investigations confirm this assumption. The high density of large sites points to population growth and related social change. The emergence of sophisticated economic systems in the area is attested by archaeobotanical proofs of a productive combination of crops and wild species. The existence of iron metallurgy as a technological and social catalyst is proved sufficiently. Finally, elaborate ritual practices can be deduced by the presence of terracotta figurines in a formerly unsuspected dimension. Future research will verify the hypothetical concepts addressed here and provide further details on chronology, site structure and regional diversification as well. In the final analysis, we wish to demonstrate the high scientific and culturalpolitical potential of the Nok culture, which is a prominent representative indicative of the beginning of social complexity in sub-Saharan Africa.

Adefolalu, A. 2003. Climate. In O. Obasanjo (ed.), Atlas du Nigéria, 62-65. NC: Jaguar. Beck, C. 2008. Petrographische und geochemische Analyse der Keramik und Terrakotta der Nok-Kultur, Nigeria. Unpublished Master-thesis. Goethe University Frankfurt. Berns, M. 1993. Art, history, and gender: women and clay in West Africa. The African Archaeological Review 11, 129-148. Blier, S. 1998. The Royal Arts of Africa. The Majesty of Form. NY. Breunig, P. 2009. Cultural change in the first millennium BC – Evidence from Nigeria, West Africa. In Magnavita, S., Koté, L., Breunig, P. and Idé, O. (eds), Crossroads / Carrefour Sahel. Cultural and technologial developments in first millennium BC/AD West Africa, 15-26. Journal of African Archaeology Monograph Series 2. Africa Magna Verlag, Frankfurt a. M. Boullier, C., Person, A., Saliège, J. and Polet, J. 2002. Bilan chronologique de la culture Nok et nouvelles datations sur des sculptures. Afrique: Archéologie et Arts 2, 9-28. Hollis, R. 1958. Dakakari grave pottery. Nigerian Field 23, 23-26. Harris, P. 1938. Notes on the Dakakari peoples of Sokoto

Acknowledgements The project is generously funded by the German Research Foundation (DFG) and supported by the Goethe-University 77

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Province. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute LXVIII, 113-152. Ehret, C. 2002. The civilizations of Africa. A history to 1800. Oxford: James Currey. Fagg, B. 1965. Radiocarbon Dating of the Nok Culture, Northern Nigeria. Nature 205, 112. Fagg, B. 1968. The Nok Culture: Excavations at Taruga. The West African Archaeological Newsletter 10, 2730. Fagg, B. 1969. Recent work in West Africa: new light on the Nok Culture. World Archaeology 1 (1), 41-50. Fagg, B. 1977 (2nd ed. 1990). Nok terracottas. Lagos: The Nigerian Museums. Fagg, A. 1972. A preliminary report on an occupation site in the Nok valley, Nigeria: Samun Dukiya, AF/70/1. West African Journal of Archaeology 2, 75-79. Fitzgerald, R. 1944. Dakakari grave pottery. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, LXXIV, 43-57. Fitzgerald, R. 1958. Dakakari grave pottery. Nigerian Field XXII, 76-84. Jayaswal, V., Krishna, K. 1986. An Ethno-Archaeological View of Indian Terracottas. Delhi. Jemkur, J. 1992. Aspects of the Nok Culture. Zaria. Jensen, E. 1936. Im Lande des Gada. Stuttgart. Kahlheber, S., Höhn, A. and Rupp, N. 2009. Archaeobotanical Studies at Nok sites: an Interim Report. Nyame Akuma 71, 2-17.

Keay, R. 1953. An outline of Nigerian vegetation. Lagos: Government Printer. Miller-Rosen, A. 1999. Phytolith analysis in Near Eastern Archaeology. In S. Pike and Gitin, S. (eds), The Practical Impact of Science on Near Eastern Archaeology and Aegean Archaeology, 86-92. London: Archetype Press. Owoc, M. 2008. Ritual, religion, and ideology. In Pearsall, D. (ed.), Encyclopedia of Archaeology 3, 1922-1932. London: Academic Press. Partridge, C. 1905. Cross River Natives. London. Rupp, N., Ameje, J. and Breunig, P. 2005. New studies on the Nok Culture of Central Nigeria. Journal of African Archaeology 3 (2), 283-290. Rupp, N., Breunig, P. and Kahlheber, S. 2008. Exploring the Nok enigma. Antiquity 82 (316), June 2008, Project Gallery. Shaw, T. 1978. Nigeria: Its Archaeology and Early History. London: Thames and Hudson. Tylecote, R. 1975. Iron smelting at Taruga, Nigeria. Journal of the Historical Metallurgy Society 9, 49-56. Willett, F. 1967. Ife. Metropole afrikanischer Kunst, 170174. Bergisch-Gladbach. Willett, F. 1983. Nigerianische Kunst: Ein Überblick. In F. Willett (ed.), Kunstschätze aus Alt-Nigeria. Ausstellungskatalog. Hildesheim, 33-55. Mainz.

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Destructive times, constructive measures: Danish funding and collaboration to develop archaeology in Bénin Klavs Randsborg

SAXO Institute, University of Copenhagen, Njalsgade 80, DK-2300 Copenhagen, Denmark [email protected] www.worldarchaeology.net Abstract

World modernization and globalization is highly destructive both to material cultural heritage, and to cultural traditions. Archaeological fieldwork in West Africa - with still living traditions - is both a challenge to historical and cultural preconceptions, and archaeologically highly rewarding. New knowledge and hitherto unknown cultures in Bénin are points in case. A decade of work has provided a temporal sequence matching that of Nigeria, but better documented. The findings with regard to social management and ancient iron production are particularly significant. Some organizational improvements for research and educational structures are suggested. Key words: Dahomey, Agongointo, caves, iron, slaves

This problem cannot be solved by money alone. Established hierarchies are making it difficult for inventive souls to find their own way forward. Actually, African academics could learn from business where there is competition over quality and price.

Destructive times We are living in destructive times. Modernity and globalization are transforming society everywhere on Earth. Cultural remains are being destroyed at an alarming pace, and usually without scientific investigation and study. Disregard for the past is the result.

Thus, Africa is still a dramatically under-investigated continent, archaeologically speaking. Nevertheless, it is also a highly interesting part of the Globe. Archaeologists are still working - at least beyond the big cities - in traditional societies where they investigate finds and ancient cultures that belong to still living traditions. Relations with the local population are an essential facet of archaeological work: the locals act as important informants and, it must be said, are often more valuable than local academia.

Links with the past in the form of living traditions are being destroyed at an even faster pace. In a short while, we shall all be editions of a Europeanized culture, regardless of geographical place and language. We shall all be using the same kinds of energy, building materials, cars, computers, and so forth, regardless of the place of manufacture. Disregard for tradition, and for history, is the result. False conceptions of history are another concern, even attempts at rewriting history by taking charge of ancient material culture. Thus, Hindus may destroy a mosque, which in turn may have been built on the very site of a Hindu temple torn down by Moslems. Other less violent battles are fought over rights to items in museum collections.

Africa is, in other words, a treasure. It is also a fine testing ground for standard European or American propositions as to development and organization of ancient society. Many traditional theories, even dogmas, about Antiquity would never have developed given a better knowledge of archaeology. I am also quite certain that recent anthropology would have seen other generalizations had there been a better knowledge of Africa’s archaeology.

Global challenges and Africa Different regions and countries of the Globe are at different levels in this maelstrom of development. In Denmark for instance archaeology and history still play a large role, not least because of its very rich past, a long research history, and the generally high level of education of the entire population (Randsborg 1994; 2001; 2009).

Bénin archaeology and Dahomey To put these points into perspective, this paper aims to provide a short summary of our more than ten years archaeological fieldwork in West Africa (Bénin, Togo, Ghana) (cf. Randsborg and Merkyte 2009, where a full account will be found). For practical reasons I shall limit myself mainly to Bénin.

The situation is different in Africa. 50 years of colonial rule brought some developments in archaeology; 50 years of independence, and new social problems, have hardly improved science and higher education sufficiently. An older generation is on its way out. The new generation of scientists, due to a variety of problems, find it difficult to raise advanced education and research to world levels.

In Ghana, our work has been done in conjunction with the University of Legon, the Ghana Museums and Monuments Board, and other institutions. The plantations of the former Danish Gold Coast are one obvious point of interest, in particular Isert’s Plantation about 50 km north of Accra, 79

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 1: Cave plans, Bénin. and significant traces of stone age occupation have also been found in shell middens at Kpone and elsewhere. In the far north, a museum has been opened at Kasana, near the town of Tumu, and a survey of archaeological sites has also been conducted in this region. Iron production could date back to the 1750s, although the slave raiding that was once prevalent here is more vivid in people’s memory, since it did not come to an end till 1899.

Caves Our archaeological project started when a huge Danish road-building bulldozer virtually disappeared into the ground at Agongointo near Bohicon (Randsborg et al., 1998). It turned out that it had broken through the roof of the central chamber of a large man-made “cave”. Investigation demonstrated the existence of lower-lying side chambers as well, and the “bulldozer-cave” was revealed to be only one of a whole family of caves. Collaboration, lavishly supported by the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Patrimony of Bénin and the University of Copenhagen, has also involved museums in Bénin and the University of Abomey-Calavi.

Work in Bénin has been concentrated in the southern part of the country, and took its point of departure as the old Kingdom of Dahomey with its capital at Abomey. This small highly militarized and administratively very well organized kingdom expanded towards the coast in the early 18th century, when it conquered Ouidah (Whydah), the great slave exporting emporium. Through Ouidah, under the aegis of Dahomey, hundreds of thousands of slaves were exported to the Americas.

More than 1600 beautiful caves have been recorded, only a small percentage of the real number. The caves are entered through a narrow funnel-like tube, very difficult to detect from the surface; they come in three main types. Chronologically, they all belong to the time of the Kingdom of Dahomey. The earlier ones, from the 17th century, were dug as hiding places, but later the deeper chambers were also for the storage of water, and the most recent 19th century caves had a dual function as well. Their role as cisterns on the dry Plateau of Abomey was

Dahomey mainly acquired these slaves through warfare and from the interior of West Africa. European nations abandoned the traffic in the early 1800s, but Dahomey’s own use of slave labour, and export of slaves to the Moslem regions, continued till the French conquest at the close of the 19th century. 80

Destructive times, constructive measures: Danish funding and collaboration to develop archaeology in Bénin

Figure 2: Mining corridors, Bénin. however probably the most important. Even today, people are taking drinking water from these “caves”.

new traditional king in the Kingdom of Kétu, to the east of Abomey, must be sworn in while he is holding his hand on the dead king’s decapitated head. Certainly, in interpreting graves and grave goods, assistants from still living traditions are particularly helpful.

An archaeological park and museum has been created at Agongointo where the Danish bulldozer disappeared underground in 1998. The museum is a great success among tourists and not less locally, paying respect to local culture both contemporary and historical, and providing the population with a sense of time depth.

Iron production Searching for caves, it appeared that certain “entrance holes” opened up not to caves but to mazes of corridors belonging to ancient mines, from where iron ore had been extracted.

Abomey and beyond The Dahomeyan capital of Abomey was another huge building project conducted in the past; it had a moat which required the digging of more than 600,000 cubic metres of stone-hard laterite soil. The walls around Abomey were decorated with severed heads of sacrificed humans to demonstrate the powers of the king. When investigating the fill of the moat, among other things to obtain dates for African ceramics found in context with European imports such as schnapps bottles, settlement layers of the 13th century were detected beneath the remnants of the city wall.

Nearby heaps, sometimes even mounds, of slag were the remnants of the actual production of iron. One such site investigated was at Dogbo-Tota, south of Abomey. It turned out that the slag heaps were spread throughout southern Bénin and that they all were older than the Kingdom of Dahomey. The earliest traces of iron production (then on the household level) go back to 700 BC. Industrial production of iron, with groups of big slagheaps beyond the villages, started around 1200 AD. At the close of this industrial iron production - around 1500 AD slagheaps are so large that they reflect an output of up to 2,000,000 kg of raw iron. Such slag mounds are found across hundreds of kilometres. The scale of production is so large that at least part of the iron must surely have been destined for export, likely by going up the Niger river

Other areas of interest were destroyed graves, also of the Dahomeyan period, which are among the few archaeologically investigated ones in West Africa – from poor women to generals, the latter decapitated since special rituals took place with the head. Even today, a 81

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives to the Moslem empires of the Sahel, perhaps even to the Near East. It must have demanded enormous amounts of charcoal. Depletion of forests, combined with a drier climate, may well be the reason for the abandonment of this truly grand undertaking. Even the so-called Bénin gap in the rainforest belt between Ghana and Nigeria is likely the result of such over-use of natural resources, and a warning to us all.

training and antiquities institutions which have local engagement, both in terms of management of landscapes and cultural resources, decentralization in other words. Political affiliations are important, as are good relations with the population, the truly knowledgeable reporters and protectors of archaeological finds and monuments. Popularization of the right kind is indeed a democratic measure, ensuring also academic progress.

Investigation of Pre-Dahomeyan cultures received an additional boost thanks to the digging of a seven km long drainage channel which turned out to cut through a large town-like settlement. Culture layers and pits contained a wealth of information on daily life, and ritual practices, apart from iron production. Clearly, the technological and artistic level of these cultures was actually higher than that of the Kingdom of Dahomey.

We are fast losing the treasure of traditional society to modernization, but we can still safeguard its material remains with the help of archaeology, before the “bulldozers” arrive. For this we need collaboration on all levels.

References

A long sequence

Randsborg, K. 1994. Ole Worm. An Essay on the Modernization of Antiquity. Acta Archaeologica 65, 135ff. Randsborg, K. 2001. Archaeological Globalization. The First Practitioners. Acta Archaeologica 72:2, 1ff. Randsborg, K. 2009. The Anatomy of Denmark. Archaeology & History from the Ice Age to the Present. London, Duckworth. Randsborg, K. et al. 1998. Subterranean structures: Archaeology in Bénin, West Africa. Acta Archaeologica, 69, 209-227. Randsborg, K. and I. Merkyte et al. 2009. BéninArchaeology. The Ancient Kingdoms. Acta Archaeologica 80:1-2.

At all events, while the history of Bénin previously started around 1600 AD, with European reports and local oral traditions, including lists and years of kings, the BéninoisDanish project (BDArch) has created a cultural sequence as long and as rich as that of Nigeria, even including finds from the Palaeolithic and the Neolithic. Constructive measures The remedies we suggest for the problems outlined at the beginning of this paper are, in principle, simple. Better education for one, and a “level” organizational structure, with wide catchments. That is, proper university

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Between the Forest and the Sudan: The Dynamics of Trade in Northern Ghana Joanna Casey

Department of Anthropology.
University of South Carolina,
Columbia SC 29208. [email protected]

Abstract This paper discusses evidence indicative of trade in the Guinea savanna region of West Africa, and suggests new approaches to the study of it, particularly in respect to Ghana. Hierarchical models of state formation that have tended to be dominant have ignored the wide variety of alternative political arrangements that existed in this area, which may in fact be more typical of Africa as a whole. The importance of local communities should not be underestimated. In connection with caravans coming from afar, they could have traded in local products and helped to provide services of various kinds. Women would have played a vital role in the provision of such resources as shea butter, the production of which is still entirely their concern. Even if the long distance trade routes dealt in durable luxury items, these are unlikely to be found in the intervening areas, since it was more profitable for the local communities to assist their transit than to keep them. Key words: Guinea savanna, trade routes, local economies, gendered resources.

Introduction

south and the dry Sudan savanna to the north (Figure 1). It has broadly been referred to as the “Middle Belt” and was defined by its wooded savanna vegetation, limited resources and low population densities (Gleave and White, 1969, 553). Culturally, it has been compared, generally unfavourably, to the empires of ancient Mali and Songhai and the Hausa states to the north and the Akan states to the south, which have figured prominently in European narratives of exploration and colonial control. While Middle Belt terminology is rarely used in the anthropology and archaeology of the Guinea savanna these days, the idea of this area as vast and uninteresting seems to persist. Archaeological research has concentrated on the northern Sahel and Sudan, especially the Inland Niger Delta (McIntosh, 1995, McIntosh, 1999a) and the central Sudan between the Niger River and Lake Chad (Gronenborn, 1998, Holl, 1994, MacEachern, 2001) and on the coast and forests (Boachie-Ansah, 1986, Crossland, 1989, DeCorse, 2001, Effah-Gyamfi, 1985, Kelly, 1997, 2001, 2002, 2004, Ogundiran, 2001a, 2001b, 2002, Stahl, 1994, 2001). The area in the middle remained largely unexplored and unremarked until well into the colonial era. This has been problematic for a number of reasons (Stahl 2001:145146).

Among the most interesting narratives told of West Africa’s past are those that concern its long history of trade. Trade routes snaked their way across the Sahara Desert throughout prehistory but most dramatically when caravans of salt, gold and slaves crossed back and forth from the rim of the Mediterranean to the West African forest edge. The arrival of sea faring Europeans on the coast of West Africa in the Fifteenth Century changed the direction of trade bringing about vast economic, political and social changes. Archaeological investigations at some of the major trading towns on the coast and in the Inland Niger Delta have brought to light these long histories of trade, producing masses of trade goods and enormous amounts of information on the structure of the towns and relationships between indigenous peoples and traders. Between the Sudan and the coast however, and particularly north of the forests, are vast tracts of wooded savanna that were regularly traversed by traders. Archaeological investigations into trading activities in this area have been few and have not produced the kinds of materials found at the coastal and Sudanian termini, even though the region abounds with known loci of intense historical trading activity. This paper discusses the evidence for intensive trade in the Guinea savanna region of West Africa, and suggests new approaches to the study of ancient trade in this area. While deep and extensive deposits of exotic goods are the current hallmarks of long term long distance trade, local social and political change and the intensification of local industries and local trade indicating the rise of support services, are also likely to be good indicators of intensive long term trade.

The Guinea savanna is not, and never has been, the wasteland it is frequently perceived to be. It is home to cultures such as Nok (Rupp et al., 2008, Rupp et al., 2005) and Koma (Kankpeyeng and Nkumbaan, 2008) which, until recently, were known only through their spectacular artworks. Others such as Dagomba/Mossi/Mamprusi have endured for centuries (Davis, 1984, Drucker-Brown, 1975, Fage, 1964, Skinner, 1960, Staniland, 1975), and still others such as Kong and Samori were witnessed historically as centralized authorities with enormous reach and influence but of very short duration (Azarya, 1980). There were also decentralized polities, which

The Guinea savanna Geographically this paper focuses on the Guinea savanna region of Ghana that exists between the forests to the

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 1: Map of West Africa showing vegetation zones and places mentioned in text.

organization in West Africa pointing out that the hierarchical models that have dominated our conceptions have ignored the wide variety of political arrangements that existed, often contemporaneously, in the past (Stahl, 2001, 2004). These less centralized, non urbanized and often ephemeral polities appear to be more characteristic of much of Africa and especially the Guinea savanna. These are not less successful polities, or polities on their way to becoming states, but legitimate sociopolitical formations in their own right. While other regions of West Africa also offer the potential for understanding sociopolitical arrangements beyond the poles of chiefdoms and states, the Guinea savanna is particularly ripe for this kind of study, lacking as it does, heavily centralized states of such gravitational force as to pull all research questions toward them.

maintained their independence by offering complex forms of resistance and compliance to the larger authorities (Swanepoel, 2004), or providing essential services such as the massive iron works at Bassar in Togo (de Barros, 1986, 2000, 2001). Herein lies one of the greatest problems with researching the Guinea savanna, which is that few of its societies have followed the familiar evolutionary narrative that has polities coalescing around a central authority figure, a chief or “Big Man”, and advancing toward the production of a standardized selection of traits including monumental architecture, urbanization, social stratification, long distance trade, artworks and a hierarchy of authority figures supported by religion and the military (Stahl, 1999, Yoffee, 2005). Increasingly, archaeologists are questioning the validity of this narrative and recognizing that sociopolitical arrangements that do not fit this model have not been sufficiently investigated (Arhin, 1990, Cobb, 1993, David and Sterner, 1999, Kip and Schortman, 1989, McIntosh, 1999a, 1999b, Pauketat, 2007, Stahl, 1999, Swanepoel, 2004). In Africa attempts to counter the colonial image of perpetual darkness have tended to focus on scattered “civilizations” that have all the standard traits of what has come to define state level societies (McIntosh, 1999b). Archaeologists have recently called for a much more nuanced approach to social, political and economic

Trade networks The long distance trade networks that went between the forests and the Sudan had to pass through the Guinea savanna, and had a substantial effect on all the people living there (Figure 2). On the western side of Ghana was the route that connected the forests of West Africa to the trading centres in the Inland Niger Delta and the kingdoms of ancient Mali and Songhai. The primary commodity heading north on this trade route was gold, while on the eastern side of Ghana traders from the Hausa states of Northern Nigeria traveled down to the forests in search of 84

Between the Forest and the Sudan: The Dynamics of Trade in Northern Ghana

Figure 2: Map of Trade Routes (after Davis, 1996, 143). kola. On both sides, northern traders brought salt, textiles, leather goods and animals. Goods were transported from the north on donkeys but the forest environment was detrimental to their health so goods were transferred between animal and human porters at the forest edge, and these transfer points became market towns (Lovejoy, 1980). Conducting trade at the forest edge also enabled middle men to control the trade, thus keeping the sources of gold and kola a secret (Wilks, 1982a). Begho was the best known and likely the oldest market town on the western side of Ghana (Perinbam, 1973, Perinbam, 1986, Wilks, 1961, Wilks, 1962, Wilks, 1982a), and Salaga ultimately

became the most important town on the east (Adekunle, 1994, Arhin, 1970, Braimah, 1967, 1997, Braimah and Goody, 1968, Goody and Mustapha, 1967, 1976, Johnson, 1986, Lovejoy, 1978, 1980, 1982, 1983, 1989), but there were many market towns all along the forest edge, and numerous smaller markets were established at stopping places along the trade routes (Figure 3). There was an enormous amount of money to be made by facilitating the forward movement of goods. In the fourteenth century (Fage, 1964) (or possibly earlier (Skinner, 1960, Zahan, 1967) ) the Mossi, Dagomba and

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Figure 3: Map of Ghana showing places mentioned in text. Mamprussi group of kingdoms emerged and while their linked origin myths (Fage, 1964, Rattray, 1932, Tamakloe, 1931) do not mention trade, it is reasonably clear that this was a factor in the location and timing of their emergence. They are thought to have been mounted warrior/mercenaries who came from the northeast (Fage, 1964) and fought for various polities including ancient Mali before settling in the Volta Basin and subsequently expanding from central Ghana to the edge of the Mali empire. In the sixteenth century they attracted trading caravans to their areas, by offering protection, facilities and other kinds of support (Davis, 1984). The trade caravans paid tolls, duties and taxes for permission to cross through controlled territories

and made “gifts” and payments for protection, the use of market facilities and other services (Skinner, 1960). Muslim traders were often invited to take up residence in special parts of many of the larger towns where they acted as facilitators and brokers (Azarya, 1980, Levtzion, 1968, Lovejoy, 1978, Perinbam, 1973, Wilks, 1961, 1962, 1982a, 1982b). The arrival of the Europeans on the coast significantly impacted trade in the interior by rerouting gold southward and exponentially increasing the demand for slaves. In the sixteenth century the Songhai reacted to the dwindling gold supply by dispatching armed Mandingo warriors to 86

Between the Forest and the Sudan: The Dynamics of Trade in Northern Ghana start it up again. These warriors settled to the north of Begho and organized to become the Gonja kingdom which in the seventeenth century went on a rampage of empire building and ultimately claimed territory across the width of Ghana, just north of the forest, thereby controlling all trade (Goody and Mustapha, 1967, Goody, 1976). The trade in slaves had an even more profound effect. Slave raiding destabilized the region and trade caravans became larger and much more complicated (Lovejoy, 1983, 1989, Klein, 1992).

but again, the quantity of exotic items is exceedingly small (Swanepoel, 2004). Trade items The most frequently occurring trade items in the archaeological sites of this era are cowries and beads, although both are in relatively low numbers. Cowries were used as currency until recent historic times, but they also served many other functions in rituals and as offerings and adornments which would have increased the likelihood of their being incorporated into site deposits (Saul, 2004). They were individually of sufficiently small value that the loss of one or two in offering or accident would not have been a tragedy. Similarly beads had great cultural significance and value but were prone to loss through offerings and accident. Most significantly, however, the presence of beads and cowries in archaeological sites does not necessarily signal straight forward trade activities because they became fully integrated into local social and economic systems where they may have circulated for a long time before finding their final resting place (Swanepoel, 2004, 286).

Archaeological investigations Archaeological investigations have taken place at several loci that were critical to this history (Figure 3). Along the forest edge excavations have been carried out at Begho (Crossland, 1989, Crossland and Posnansky, 1978), Bono Manso (Effah-Gyamfi, 1985), Wenchi (Boachie-Ansah, 1986), New Buipe (York, 1968) and Banda (Stahl, 1991, 1994, 2001). Daboya, the heart of Gonja history and trade, has also been investigated (Shinnie and Kense, 1989), and so has Yendi Dabari (Shinnie and Ozanne, 1962), the original capital of Dagomba. Several of the towns had an interesting organization indicating separate areas for Muslims, artisans and people of different ethnic groups, and they varied between nucleated and dispersed settlements. Some had large structures suggesting the presence of a palace, and at Yendi Dabari, a rectangular building with a courtyard, quite different from the round buildings that are more characteristic of the area, suggests a Muslim trader’s house (Shinnie and Ozanne, 1962). Interestingly, very few exotic artefacts indicating either the scale or the breadth of long distance trade have been found at any of the sites. At Begho, for example exotic artefacts from the height of its trading years amounted to only a handful (Crossland, 1989). Significantly these included some sixteenth century Chinese porcelain, some beads and copper objects, but given the scale and duration of trade through this centre it is surprising that more material has not been found. Large scale excavations at Daboya produced only hints of long distance trade and virtually no artefacts of clearly exotic origin until recent historic times (Shinnie and Kense, 1989).

The small numbers of exotic trade materials at trade era sites, is interesting and several processes may be at play here. First, durable items of European manufacture were an extremely small component of the trade caravans (Saul, 2004). Interest in European goods was so low even into early colonial times that colonial administrators opened government stores for the express purpose of introducing European imports to local communities in an effort to stimulate a market for them (Nathan, 1902, 13). Second, the primary trade items may have been more important to local communities as passing objects of trade rather than as objects of prestige. It is likely that there was far more advantage to moving materials through to their destination than there was in stopping them en route. Although the West Volta area of Burkina Faso made fine textiles and was a market centre for wool blankets, the local people wore only leaves, and despite the enormous amount of kola passing through their towns, local people did not consume it (Saul, 2004, 72). Similarly in Mossi, although chiefs demanded a portion of a trader’s product as payment, they generally sold what they received, often bringing disputes because of their tendency to undercut the price (Skinner, 1960). Thus durable prestige items such as gold may not have had social significance here. Third, most of the trade items were made of materials that did not survive into the archaeological record, or are not recognizable archaeologically. Items brought from the north included salt, paper, cloth, leather and animals (Saul, 2004), none of which would have survived. Finally, extremely valuable items are much less likely to become incorporated into the archaeological record through loss or discard, and unless intentionally buried are unlikely to be found.

Other sites have been investigated, farther to the north. Although these sites are less well known for their participation in trade, they were in the midst of the trade routes, and in areas vulnerable to slave raiding. At Yikpabongo in Komaland, dramatic burial tumuli filled with terra cotta figurines date to between the 13th and 19th centuries (Kankpeyeng and Nkumbaan, 2008). The elaborate burial practices suggest a heavily hierarchical society, but excavations in the tumuli and the domestic areas have produced few recognizable trade goods other than cowrie shells, beads and some pieces of glass (Kankpeyeng and Nkumbaan, 2008, 97). At the nineteenth through twentieth century sites of Yalingbong and Zanbulugu beads, cowrie shells, a pipe fragment and some European ceramics hint at contact with trade routes,

Local economies With so many factors working against the visibility of wealth, status and trade in the north, understanding this era

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives requires a new approach. While the movement of prestige goods between major nodes may have been the primary purpose of the long distance trade networks, they served an equally important purpose to the people through whose communities they passed. These traders brought items that were essential to local economies, especially salt, but they also provided opportunities for local communities both to provide support services and to produce materials for sale, and this would have transformed the economy of the region. A useful place to look for these changes would be in local economies and particularly in the ways that the domestic economy may have changed to accommodate the production of materials for sale (Cobb, 1993, Stahl, 2001, Stahl and Cruz, 1998).

could plan for their arrival and could prepare both the provisions they needed, and the items for sale. With the intense wet and dry seasonal regime, farming activity in the Guinea savanna is confined to the wet season. The regular occurrence of the trade caravans would have had a substantial effect on local economies by enabling people to be productive throughout the year and giving them an additional, predictable source of revenue, or at the very least the ability to trade surpluses from their own area for needed or desired products from farther afield. Local communities could have traded in local products such as smoked meat and fish, oils, condiments, beer, dried leaves and seeds. Some of these products would have been for immediate use but others would have joined the caravan to be traded farther along. Local communities would also have helped with services such as providing medicine and care for sick or injured members and animals and assisting with repairs to equipment.

Trading took place during the dry season between November and April when travel was easier, harvests were in and food was relatively plentiful. Throughout the savanna, however, water was often scarce and caravans would have relied on local people for access to carefully husbanded water supplies. The caravans were not small operations of a few traders and their animals, but enormous entities with hundreds of people and animals. Captain Lonsdale describes the caravans he saw in Salaga thus:

Role of women Women would have played a vital role in provisioning trade caravans and intensifying local production for trade. Worldwide it is women who are primarily in charge of drawing water, collecting fuel and preparing food, and this is certainly so in northern Ghana today. Although it is possible to imagine that women may have been restricted in their dealings with foreign merchants, and that men took over these jobs for the purpose of trade, it is more likely that men then, as now, had their own specialties such as selling and butchering animals, acting as brokers or dealing in other commodities such as metals or woodwork.

These large caravans of from 200 to 500 and 600 persons take on an average seven months to do the journey from Kano to Salagha [sic]. These caravans are in themselves a moving market, buying and selling everywhere along the road. The Houssas travel in large number for greater security against plunderers (Lonsdale 1882, 72). Clapperton ([1829], 1966, 68) noted caravans of over one thousand people and at least as many animals on the Nigeria portion of the kola route in the early nineteenth century. Caravans shed and accumulated members throughout their journeys as many other travelers joined them for portions of the trip to take advantage of the large numbers (Goody and Mustapha, 1967). Caravans moved slowly through the countryside traveling only about six hours a day, and camped near water sources where local people came to exchange provisions such as fuel and raw and cooked foods for imported goods (Adekunle, 1994, Arhin, 1970, Goody and Mustapha, 1967, Johnson, 1986, Lovejoy, 1980, Lovejoy, 1982). Their camping places often developed into market centres especially around toll stations (Davis, 1984, 170).

In towns where there were communities of Muslim traders, it was often the women who went into the nearby villages to obtain products for trade (Saul, 2004). While many resources undoubtedly found their ways from local communities into the trade caravans and subsequently to the coast or the Sudan, shea butter is frequently mentioned in explorers’ journals and colonial reports. Shea butter is made from the oleaginous kernel of the fruit of the shea tree (Vitellaria paradoxa). It is the only oil in the savannas that can be produced in quantity and it therefore has many uses in cooking, as a conditioner for hair, skin and wood, as an illuminant and as the basis for ointments. Ibn Battuta, the fourteenth century Muslim traveler and scholar, gave a detailed description of shea butter from his travels in Mali (Levtzion and Hopkins, 1981, 287), and other reports from early Muslim travelers describe Mossi, Jula and Hausa traders carrying shea over long distances (Lewicki, 1974). Shea is found early on the Gold Coast, and it became essential to the Ashanti economy in the eighteenth century (Lovejoy, 1980). Mungo Park traveling in Mali in the late eighteenth century gave a detailed description of the preparation of shea butter and indicated that its preparation was a primary industry in the area and constituted a main item of trade (Park, 2000, 201[1799]). Mungo Park and other explorers also remarked that shea trees left standing during farmland clearing dominated the West African landscape, bearing testament to the degree to

The importance of the support services should not be underestimated, because the caravans could not have survived without the assistance of local communities. While larger towns had communities of Hausa and Wangara facilitators to assist their Muslim brethren, there were long stretches without sizeable towns where local people would have provided these essential services. Even in the large communities with Muslim facilitators, the productive activities of the local community would have been essential for providing food and other resources. Caravans were not an occasional occurrence but a predictable, anticipated annual event. Local people 88

Between the Forest and the Sudan: The Dynamics of Trade in Northern Ghana which this tree was protected. The wood from the shea tree is very good for woodworking and charcoal making, but throughout the savannas there are prohibitions against cutting shea trees.

The Iron Age in general is distinguished from the Late Stone Age by an increase in the number and types of potsherds, which increase exponentially as the Iron Age progresses. Although at some sites ceramics were reminiscent of styles seen farther into the Sudan and Sahel (Shinnie and Kense, 1989, York, 1968), the vast majority were of more local manufacture, and indicated variable areas of distribution. Insufficient research has been conducted to indicate whether the distribution represents the spread of styles or the movement of actual pots. Pots may have increased in number and variation for a number of reasons. Certainly pots would have been useful to the caravans, and increased numbers of sherds could be indicating the progressively larger numbers of people using them. Large encampments assisted by local people bringing food and water would have been ample opportunity for the use and breakage of pots. Some pots would have been purchased or traded for themselves, although a moving caravan is unlikely to have burdened itself excessively with clay pots, particularly if there were lighter and more durable metal equivalents. Other pots would have been brought in and used on the premises for food preparation, water storage and food service. Still other pots may only have been the vessels in which something more important was moved. Within the household, the sizes and varieties of pots can suggest production beyond the needs of the household and therefore possibly commercial production. As with domestic production and provisioning, the manufacture of ceramics is also in the hands of women in this area of Ghana.

Shea is a gendered resource that belongs to women who are entirely responsible for its harvest and sale. Today in northern Ghana there are strict rules governing the collection of shea from farmlands, and in some places rituals need to be performed before women may collect shea nuts from any land. The stated purpose of these rituals is to insure that the nuts are properly ripe before women pick them, and that all women have an equal chance of collecting them. Men have no hand in the collection or in the production of the shea butter, and the profits that women make from the sale of shea, either as raw nuts or as rendered oil, is entirely theirs to keep. This situation exists throughout the savanna (Boffa, 2000, Carney and Elias, 2006, Chalfin, 2004, Teklehaimanot, 2004, Elias and Carney, 2007). These rituals, prohibitions, and visibly managed landscapes filled with shea trees point to long term involvement in the production of shea butter for export. As the trees are ubiquitous, if all women had equal access to them there would be no market for shea except within a local barter system, and it is unlikely that these methods of managing the collection of shea would have developed. The explorers’ observations suggest that large scale trade in shea butter is of considerable antiquity. Shea butter can be produced on a small scale with ordinary kitchen utensils, but to produce it on a large scale requires specialized equipment – a large pot for boiling the nuts, frying the shea kernels and clarifying the oil, and different, large, open mouthed pots for beating the oil in water to separate it from the other parts of the nut.

The modern monetary economy has provided more opportunity for domestic commercial production so the situation that prevails today is an extreme version of what would have taken place in the past (Stahl 2001). It is also important to remember that while trade networks cross cut the Guinea savanna zone, caravans used the same well worn paths which bypassed many communities along the way, isolating them from direct contact with traders (Saul, 2004). Most of the exchange that took place in this zone would have been at a relatively low level with people trading small amounts of produce for small amounts of trade goods, especially salt. But along the main routes we should expect to see a more direct engagement with traders, and the demand for some commodities, such as shea, that could be sold in bulk beyond the boundaries of the savanna may have much more substantially transformed the economy of the entire region.

Although shea is an obvious product for trade, there were likely many others, which may also leave archaeological signatures when they changed from being produce for domestic production to being produced in larger quantities for sale. Today in West Africa many women engage in production for commercial purposes, and their homes can reflect this materially in hearth sizes and placements and in their specialized equipment. Not all productive activities leave signatures that are recognizably different from regular domestic activity but very large hearths in small compounds can indicate beer making, hearths located outside the compound can indicate commercial food production, and collections of many large pots are typical of households that make beer or shea butter for sale. There is not a one to one correspondence between material signatures and activities, but differences between households and changes through time aided by residue and other analyses could give strong evidence for increasing domestic production.

Conclusion There is plenty of evidence in the archaeological record to inform us significantly about trade and social, political and economic change in this region, but we need to be more attuned to it and willing to interpret it creatively. Rather than searching for exotic trade items and monumental architecture to signal the appearance of centralized hierarchical polities, it is important that we consider that there were many different types of non centralized polities, and that even the centralized ones are not necessarily

Although the archaeological sites did not produce large numbers of exotic trade items, virtually all investigated sites did produce a large amount and variety of potsherds.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives archaeologically visible. Even if the trade routes dealt in durable luxury items, these are unlikely to be found in intervening areas where there is more profit in moving materials through than there is in keeping them. It is unlikely that the trade routes could have endured through the centuries without the input of the less materially oriented polities in the savanna. Contrary to evolutionary or capitalist perspectives, there is considerable power in being an indispensible subordinate, as well as substantially less risk of attack from foreign powers. Finally, a more useful way to investigate the region is by looking at changes to the domestic economy that signal production beyond the household. Although the age of trade is frequently conceptualized in terms of its chiefs and travelling merchants, these opportunities for trade were exploited by women who remain the driving force behind the markets of West Africa.

Crossland, L.B. & Posnansky, M. 1978: Pottery, people and trade at Begho, Ghana. In Hodder, I. (ed.), The Spatial Organization of Culture. Pittsburgh, University of Pittsburgh Press, 77-89. David, N. & Sterner, J.A. 1999: Wonderful society: The Burgess Shale creatures, Mandara polities and the nature of prehistory. In McIntosh, S.K. (ed.), Beyond Chiefdoms. Cambridge Cambridge University Press, 97-109. Davis, D.C. 1984: Continuity and Change in Mampurugu: A Study of Tradition as Ideology. History. Evanston, IL, Northwestern. Davis, D.C. 1996: The Mosque and the Marketplace: An Eighteenth Century Islamic Renaissance in West Africa Islamic Studies, 35, 135-163. De Barros, P. 1986: Bassar: a quantified, chronologically controlled, regional approach to a traditional iron production center in West Africa. Africa, 56, 148-174. De Barros, P. 2000: Iron Metallurgy: Sociocultural Context. In Vogel, J.O. (ed.), Ancient African Metallurgy: The Sociocultural Context. Walnut Creek, CA, Altamira, 147-198. De Barros, P. 2001: The effects of the slave trade on the Bassar iron working society of Togo. In DeCorse, C.R. (ed.), West Africa During the Atlantic Slave Trade: Archaeological Perspectives. London, Leicester University Press, 59-80. DeCorse, C.R. 2001: An Archaeology of Elmina: Africans and Europeans on the Gold Coast 1400-1900. Washington, Smithsonian University Press. Drucker-Brown, S. 1975: Ritual Aspects of the Mamprusi Kingship. Cambridge, African Studies Center. Effah-Gyamfi, K. 1985: Bono Manso: An Archaeological Investigation into Early Akan Urbanism. Calgary, University of Calgary Press. Elias, M. & Carney, J. 2007: African shea butter: a feminized subsidy from nature. Africa, 77, 37-62. Fage, J.D. 1964: Reflections on the Early History of the Mossi-Dagomba Group of States In Vansina, J., Mauny, R. & Thomas, L.V. (eds.), The Historian in Tropical Africa: Studies Presented and Discussed. London, International African Institute for the Oxford University Press, 177-191. Gleave, M.B. & White, H.P. 1969: The West African Middle Belt: Environmental Fact or Geographer's Fiction? Geographical Review, 59, 123-139. Goody, J.R. 1976: The over-kingdom of the Gonja. In Kaberry, D.F.P.M. (ed.), West African Kingdoms in the Nineteenth Century. London, Oxford University Press, 179-205. Goody, J.R. & Mustapha, T.M. 1967: The caravan trade from Kano to Salaga. Journal of the Historical Society of Nigeria, III, 611-616. Gronenborn, D. 1998: Archaeological and ethnohistorical investigations along the southern fringes of Lake Chad 1993-1996. African Archaeological Review, 15, 225259. Holl, A. 1994: The cemetery of Houlouf in northern Cameroon (AD 1500-1600): fragments of a past social

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Between the Forest and the Sudan: The Dynamics of Trade in Northern Ghana system. African Archaeological Review, 12, 133-170. Johnson, M. 1986: The slaves of Salaga. Journal of African History, 27, 341-372. Kankpeyeng, B. & Nkumbaan, S.N. 2008: Rethinking the Stone Circles of Komaland: A Preliminary Report on the 2007/2008 Fieldwork at Yikpabongo, Northern Region, Ghana. In Insoll, T. (ed.), Current Archaeological Research in Ghana. British Archaeological Reports International Series 1847, 95-102. Kelly, K.G. 1997: The archaeology of African-European interaction: investigating the social roles of trade, traders, and the use of space in the seventeenth and eighteenth century Hueda Kingdom, Republic of Benin. World Archaeology, 28, 351-369. Kelly, K.G. 2001: Change and continuity in coastal Benin. In DeCorse, C.R. (ed.), West Africa During the Atlantic Slave Trade: Archaeological Perspectives. London, University of Leicester Press, 81-100. Kelly, K.G. 2002: Indigenous responses to colonial encounters on the West African Coast: Hueda and Dahomey from the seventeenth through nineteenth century. In Lyons, C.L. & Papadopolis, J.K. (eds.), The Archaeology of Colonialism. Los Angeles, Getty Research Institute, 96-120. Kelly, K.G. 2004: The African diaspora starts here: historical archaeology of coastal West Africa. In Reid, A.M. & Lane, P.J. (eds.), African Historical Archaeologies. New York, Kluwer Academic/Plenum, 219-241. Kip, R.S. & Schortman, E.M. 1989: The Political Impact of Trade in Chiefdoms. American Anthropologist, 91, 370-385. Klein, M.A. 1992: The impact of the Atlantic slave trade on the societies of the western Sudan. In Inikori, J.E. & Engerman, S.L. (eds.), The Atlantic Slave Trade. Durham, NC, Duke University Press, 25-48. Levtzion, N. 1968: Muslims and Chiefs in West Africa. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Levtzion, N. & Hopkins, J.F.P. 1981: Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West Africa. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Lewicki, T. 1974: West African Food in the Middle Ages, according to Arabian Sources. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Lovejoy, P.E. 1978: The Role of Wangara in the Economic Transformation of the Central Sudan in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries. Journal of African History, 19, 173-193. Lovejoy, P.E. 1980: Caravans of Kola: The Hausa Kola Trade 1700-1900. Zaria, Ahmadu Bello University Press Ltd. Lovejoy, P.E. 1982: Polanyi's "Ports of Trade": Salaga and Kano in the 19th Century. Canadian Journal of African Studies, 16, 245-277. Lovejoy, P.E. 1983: Transformations in Slavery: A History of Slavery in Africa Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Lovejoy, P.E. 1989: The impact of the slave trade on Africa in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Journal of

African History, 30, 365-394. MacEachern, S. 2001: State formation and enslavement in the southern Lake Chad Basin. In DeCorse, C.R. (ed.), West Africa During the Atlantic Slave Trade. London, Leicester University Press, 131-151. McIntosh, S.K. (ed.) 1995: Excavations at Jenne-Jenno, Hambarketolo and Kaniana (Inland Niger Delta, Mali), the 1981 Season, Berkeley, University of California Press. McIntosh, S.K. 1999a: Modeling political organization in large-scale settlement clusters: a case study from the Inland Niger Delta. In McIntosh, S.K. (ed.), Beyond Chiefdoms. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 66-79. McIntosh, S.K. 1999b: Pathways to complexity: an African perspective. In McIntosh, S.K. (ed.), Beyond Chiefdoms. Cambridge Cambridge University Press, 1-30. Nathan, M. (1902) Northern Territories of the Gold Coast Report for 1901. Annual Colonial Report. Ogundiran, A.O. 2001a: Ceramic spheres and regional networks in the Yoruba-Edo region, Nigeria, 13th - 19th centuries. Journal of Field Archaeology, 28, 27-43. Ogundiran, A.O. 2001b: Factional competition, sociopolitical development and settlement cycling in Ilare District (ca. 1200-1900): oral traditions of historical experience in a Yoruba community. History in Africa, 203-223. Ogundiran, A.O. 2002: Filling the gap in the Ife-Benin interaction field (13th - 16th centuries AD): excavations in Iloyi Settlement, Ijesaland. African Archaeological Review, 19, 27-60. Park, M. 2000: Travels in the Interior Districts of Africa. Durham and London, Duke University Press. [Original 1700] Pauketat, T.R. 2007: Chiefdoms and Other Archaeological Delusions. Walnut Creek, CA, Altamira. Perinbam, B.M. 1973: Social Relations in the Trans Saharan and Western Sudanese Trade: An Overview. Comparative Studies in Society and History, 15, 416436. Perinbam, B.M. 1986: Perceptions of Bonduku's Contribution to the Western Sudanese Gold Trade: An Assesment of the Evidence History in Africa, 13, 295322. Rattray, R.S. 1932: Tribes of the Ashanti Hinterland. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Rupp, N., Ameje, J. and Breunig, P. 2005: New Studies on the Nok Culture of Central Nigeria. Journal of African Archaeology, 3, 283-290. Rupp, N., Breunig, P. & Kahlheber, S. 2008: Exploring the Nok Enigma. Antiquity, Project Gallery, Online Publication, http://www.antiquity.ac.uk/ProjGall/ kahlheber/index.html Saul, M. 2004: Money in colonial transition: cowries and francs in West Africa. American Anthropologist, 106, 71-84. Shinnie, P.L. & Kense, F. 1989: The Archaeology of Gonja, Ghana. Calgary, University of Calgary Press.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Northern Ghana. Anthropology. Syracuse, NY, Syracuse University. Tamakloe, E.F. 1931: A Brief History of the Dagbamba People. Accra, Government Printer. Teklehaimanot, Z. 2004: Exploiting the potential of indigenous agroforestry trees: Parkia biglobosa and Vitellaria paradoxa in sub-Saharan Africa. Agroforestry Systems, 61, 207-220. Wilks, I. 1961: The Northern Factor in Ashanti History: Begho and the Mande. Journal of African History, 2, 25-34. Wilks, I. 1962: A Medieval Trade-Route from the Niger to the Gulf of Guinea. Journal of African History, 3, 337-341. Wilks, I. 1982a: Wangara, Akan and Portuguese in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries 1. The Matter of Bitu. Journal of African History, 23, 333-349. Wilks, I. 1982b: Wangara, Akan and Portuguese in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries. II The Struggle for Trade. Journal of African History, 23, 463-472. Yoffee, N. 2005: Myths of the Archaic State: Evolution of the Earliest Cities, States and Civilizations. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. York, R.N. 1968: Volta Basin Research Project excavations at New Buipe 1965-67. Ghana Notes and Queries, 10, 33-38. Zahan, D. 1967: The Mossi Kingdoms. In Forde, D. & Kaberry, P.M. (eds.), West African Kingdoms in the Nineteenth Century. London, Oxford University Press, 152-178.

Shinnie, P.L. & Ozanne, P. 1962: Excavations at Yendi Dabari. Transactions of the Historical Society of Ghana, VI, 87-118. Skinner, E.P. 1960: The Mossi of the Upper Volta. Stanford, CA, Stanford University Press. Stahl, A.B. 1991: Ethnic Style and Ethnic Boundaries: A Diachronic Case Study from West-Central Ghana. Ethnohistory, 38, 250-275. Stahl, A.B. 1994: Change and Continuity in the Banda Areas, Ghana: The Direct Historical Approach Journal of Field Archaeology, 21, 181-103. Stahl, A.B. 1999: Perceiving variability in time and space: the evolutionary mapping of African Societies. In McIntosh, S.K. (ed.), Beyond Complexity. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 39-55. Stahl, A.B. 2001: Making History in Banda: Anthropological Visions of Africa's Past. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Stahl, A.B. 2004: Political Economic Mosaics: Archaeology of the Last Two Millennia in Tropical Sub-Saharan Africa. Annual Review of Anthropology, 33, 145-172. Stahl, A.B. & Cruz, M.D.D. 1998: Men and women in a market economy: gender and craft production in West Central Ghana c 1775-1995. In Kent, S. (ed.), Gender in African Archaeology. Walnut Creek, AltaMira, 105226. Staniland, M. 1975: The Lions of Dagbon: Political Change in Northern Ghana Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Swanepoel, N.J. (2004) "Too Much Power Is Not Good": War and Trade in Nineteenth Century Sisalaland,

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Was Benin a forest kingdom? Attempting to reconstruct landscapes in Southern Nigeria Pauline von Hellermann

Marie Curie Research Fellow, HEEAL, Department of Archaeology, University of York, King’s Manor, York YO1 7EP [email protected]

Abstract It is generally assumed that the coastal forest zone one finds in vegetation maps of West Africa was, indeed, covered by forest, until 20th century population increase and development caused rapid deforestation. This assumption has been challenged in recent years, with palynological, archaeological, ecological and historical research pointing towards a much more dynamic forest past. Inspired by this work, I attempted, as part of my doctoral research, to construct a landscape history of the area of the former Benin Kingdom, famously known as one of West Africa’s forest kingdoms. This paper discusses the archaeological and historical records consulted, and the different indicators from which one might determine to what extent the Benin area was, or was not, covered by forests. It draws some tentative conclusions and makes suggestions for further research. Key words: Benin Kingdom, Nigeria, forest, landscape history, historical records

example of human induced vegetation change. Then there is also evidence for various less pronounced smaller dry periods in the more recent past, like the indications of drier conditions between 700 and 200 BP that emerged from research at Lake Bosumtwi (Talbot and Delibrias 1977).1

Introduction Vegetation maps of West Africa are invariably divided into broad vegetation zones: forest along the coast, and savanna further north. The idea of separate forest and savanna zones is deeply embedded in accounts of West Africa’s geography and history, with political centralisation generally associated more with the open savanna areas. West Africa’s famous forest kingdoms - Benin, Asante and the southern Yoruba city states - all situated in today’s forest zone, present a fascinating anomaly in this scheme. Historians and archaeologists such as Graham Connah have been at pains to understand and reconstruct the process of state building in the rather hostile environment of a rainforest (e.g. Connah 1987; see also McCann 1999; Wilks 1993). In Southern Nigeria, the thousands of kilometres of large earthworks at Sungbo – Eredu and particularly in the Benin Kingdom surveyed and mapped mainly by Patrick Darling (1984) – over 16,000 km – are particularly puzzling. How and why would people have built such enormous earthworks, shifting 100,000s of tons of soil, in the middle of thick rainforest?

Historical records also support changes between drier and wetter phases in West Africa during the last few centuries, as the work of the climatologist S. E. Nicholson and the historian G. E. Brooks, for example, demonstrates (Brooks 1993; Nicholson 1978; 1980). Fairhead and Leach (Fairhead and Leach 1998) perused historical documents and showed that, along with climate, the extent of forests changed; they demonstrated that the forest zone west of the Dahomey Gap, far from being consistently covered in forest, had a much more varied vegetation history, and that large areas covered in forest in the early 20th century were more open in the past. This was not just due to climatic influences, but also to factors of human history; 17th century travellers’ reports, for example, describe many parts of the West African coast as much more densely populated than they were two centuries later.

However, there is now increasing evidence that today’s forest zones may not always have been covered in forest. In recent years, different palynological, hydrological and anthracological research projects in West Africa have been generating evidence which indicates a much more turbulent vegetation and climate history of the region than had previously been assumed. In particular, there is much evidence for severe, almost ‘catastrophic’ dry periods affecting different parts of West Africa between 4000 and 2500 BP, which still exert a major influence on vegetation patterns today (Maley 1996; 2002; Vincens et al. 1999). The most drastic effect was the formation of the Dahomey Gap, as recent work at Frankfurt has shown (Salzmann and Hoelzmann 2005). This Gap is a savanna corridor, interrupting the forest zone, and it is often cited as an

In view of this work, this paper attempts to establish whether Southern Nigeria and the Benin area in particular, too, may have been much more open in the past than generally assumed. This has implications not just for the assessment of current deforestation processes – Fairhead and Leach’s main concern – but also for the understanding of the history of the Benin Kingdom – perhaps it was not a forest kingdom after all! Over the course of the 20th century, several observers and researchers have already Talbot, M. R. and Delibrias, G. 1977. Holocene variations in the level of Lake Bosumtwi, Ghana, Nature, 268, 722-4. More detailed studies showing lake level changes throughout this time have been recently conducted by J. Overpeck. See also Maley, J. 1996. Fluctuations majeures de la forêt dense humide africaine, in C. M. Hladik, A. Hladik, H. Pagezy, O. F. Linares, G. J. A. Koppert and A. Froment (eds.), L’Alimentation en forêt tropicale. 1

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Figures

Figure 1: Extract from vegetation map of Nigeria, showing today’s Edo state (source: Nigeria: Provisional Map of Vegetation Zones by Survey Department, Nigeria, 1953)

Figure 1: Extract from vegetation map of Nigeria, showing today’s Edo state (source: Nigeria: Provisional Map of Vegetation Zones by Survey Department, Nigeria, 1953)

suggested that the Benin area may have been far less forested in the past. But this has not dislodged the popular idea of the Benin forest kingdom, which has persisted to this day – only recently, for example, Peter Roese and Dimitri Bondarenko, an archaeologist and anthropologist who have long worked in the Benin area, published A Popular History of Benin: The Rise and Fall of a Mighty Forest Kingdom (Roese and Bondarenko 2003).

These different vegetation zones are not just in close proximity, they also overlap much more than the term ‘zones’ suggests. The most notable indication of this, clearly visible on Keay’s map, is what is known as the Sobo Plains, in the south-east of today’s Edo State, a startlingly flat area of savanna within the forest zone. Keay and others after him regarded the Plains as derived savanna (Keay and Onochie 1947), and they are often quoted in discussions of forest destruction by humans (Osemeobo 1988). But others, like Reuben Udo, have argued that they are much more likely to be a natural feature (Udo 1970). They were already described in much the same way as they look now in the early 19th century (Becroft and Jamieson 1841). They also changed very little in shape over the last forty years, all of which suggests that they indeed have other origins than just derived savanna.2 More research needs to be done to determine what these Plains actually were, but it is possible that they are the result of past climate fluctuations.

In researching the history of the Benin area, I have drawn on archaeological and other evidence, but have focussed my own research on available historical records, perusing them for any indicators of forested or open landscapes. There are admittedly various limitations and problems with such historical sources, so what I can present here are tentative suggestions only. Reconstructing past landscapes in Southern Nigeria Looking at the standard vegetation map of Southern Nigeria, produced by Ronald Keay in 1953, it is striking how narrow all the vegetation zones in Southern Nigeria actually are (Figure 1). Going north from the coast, the coastal mangrove forests give way to swamp forests, and these to dry lowland rainforest. Not much further north, the savanna-forest ecotone (derived savanna according to Keay), and then the savanna begins, all within 200 km from the coast. Today’s Edo state, more or less the area of the former Benin Kingdom, encompasses many types of vegetation zones, from swamp forest to dry savanna forest.

In general, it seems likely that the dry period identified by Jean Maley and others that affected so many parts of West Africa 4- 2,500 BP also affected Southern Nigeria. Palynological research has shown that a sudden spread of oil palm in the Niger Delta occurred around 4- 3000 BP (Sowunmi 1986). This was interpreted by Sowunmi as the result of human forest clearing; but it may also have I compared 1960s aerial photographs with a satellite image taken in 2000, which showed remarkably little change in outline 27 between these dates. 2

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Was Benin a forest kingdom? Attempting to reconstruct landscapes in Southern Nigeria represented natural colonisation by pioneer trees after a dry period, as proposed by Maley (2001). Sowunmi did consider this possibility, suggesting that the rapid expansion of these trees may perhaps have been aided by humans (Sowunmi 1999).

1977; Shaw 1980). A more open environment makes the spread of agriculture in the Benin area and other parts of today’s forest zone at this time much less difficult to explain. Very similar arguments have recently been advanced concerning the Bantu expansion, vegetation change, and population movements, in Southern Cameroon (Ngomanda et al. 2009).

There is also some archaeological evidence that can be interpreted as indicative of a drier period around this time. First, Thurstan Shaw’s excavations at Iwo Eleru near Akure revealed gloss-edged trapezoid stone tools appearing around 4000 BP, together with a marked increase in querns and rubbing stones, which could potentially be associated with cereal production, and therefore a drier more open environment (Shaw and Daniels 1984, 55-6). Shaw himself was cautious about interpreting these artefacts as indicators of cereal production, since he assumed that the area was at this time forested again (after an open period around 8000 BP). But it seems that they could after all be positively associated with cereal production, particularly since recent evidence from Southern Cameroon and Ghana suggests that there was early pearl millet agriculture considerably further south than previously thought (Neumann 2006). Second, at Igbo-Iwoto Esie, also in south-western Nigeria, Barber analysed molluscan remains in the light of their differing habitats today, which suggested to him ‘that this locale was savanna-like and was becoming progressively more forested during the latter part of the first millenium AD’ (Barber 1985).

The beginnings of the Benin Kingdom itself are somewhat shrouded in mystery, but may be roughly dated to around 900 or 1000 AD (Egharevba 1968). A period of expansion took place from around the 13th to 16th century, during which Benin fought against several rival powers and sought to assert its regional dominance (Egharevba 1968; Okpewko 1998). For this time, we have intriguing evidence from the Okomu Forest Reserve, about 50 km west of Benin City. In 1947-8, a Cambridge Botanical Expedition visited the Reserve with the specific aim of studying examples of West African primary rainforest. However, when during the second expedition pits were dug for the purpose of soil analysis, its leader, E. W. Jones, made the rather startling discovery that almost all of them contained fragments of pottery and of charcoal, many of which were recognizable as pieces of oil palm kernels (Jones 1956, 101). From this, Jones concluded that their abundance certainly points to the former existence of a country very different from the forest now existing – to something like that which prevails in parts of the Owerri district east of the Niger, perhaps where there are no large villages, but groves of oil palm interspersed with groups of huts and small patches of cultivation cover large areas.

These two examples are from areas somewhat further north and closer to the Dahomey Gap than Benin. Savanna conditions in the Benin area, of course, do not automatically imply that it was completely open country; but it seems likely that it, too, was affected by a West Africa wide dry period. The same is indicated by the demographic history. Linguistic evidence suggests that migration of Edo-ancestors from the Niger-Benue confluence into their present area took place around 4-3000 years ago (Darling 1977; 1984), so at more or less the same time when the dry period would have affected these areas (perhaps turning a previously uninhabitable swamp into attractive dry land?). An intriguing ‘clue’ in this respect may be seen in the Edo myth of origin. According to this, Edo land was created by the youngest son of the high god Osanobua, who poured sand out of a shell. This, it has been suggested, may in fact be a description of a dry period (Imafidon 1987). Such a period could well have been the cause of migrations into the southern parts of Nigeria at this time in general (Andah 1987). A more open landscape would certainly have been a far more attractive one than high forest or swamps, for a people relying, as is currently assumed, primarily on yam and oil palm for food.3 As light-demanders, neither yam nor palm oil grow naturally in high forest, and the development of their cultivation in this forest long before the development of iron technology around 1500 BP has long been a conundrum for archaeologists and historians (Andah 1987; 1993; Bondarenko and Roese 1999; Darling

Jones found it very plausible that the region might have had much higher population levels in the past and have suffered depopulation since then – a ‘phenomenon general throughout much of Benin and probably throughout much of West Africa’(Jones 1956, 105). In 1998, John Oates and Lee White, inspired by Jones’ work, took two further charcoal samples in Okomu Forest Reserve and had them analysed (White and Oates 1999). Contrary to Jones, who speculated that the charcoal layer was created about 400 years ago, radiocarbon-dating revealed charcoal from the two sample pits to be much older, dating from around 1100-1300 AD. The charcoal collected from both pits consisted of 90% fragments of oil palm kernels. Furthermore, δⁿ13C isotopic analysis was conducted on soil samples taken from the pit in Compartment 86. On this basis, White and Oates suggested that the landscape at the time that the charcoal and pottery layer was created would have been a mosaic of farmland, of palm trees, and secondary forest, dominated by C3 [tree-like] plants (White and Oates 1999, 357). Oates and White use their findings, which contain little or no C4 (grass-like) plants, to argue that there were definitely not ‘savanna’ conditions prevailing at this time. They suggest instead a scenario of intense agriculture, across an

In view of the recent findings in Cameroon (Neumann 2006) and the interpretation of Iwo Eleru proposed here, perhaps in the Benin area, too, there was cereal as well as yam and palm oil production. 3

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Dapper, 1668

area of over 1000 km². Such a mixed, agricultural landscape would certainly correspond with the known history of Udo town, on the northern border of the Okomu Reserve. A small village at the beginning of the colonial period, Udo was once a major rival of Benin City. The large earthworks still surrounding it today are testament to its historic importance and size, as is its prominent role in Benin songs and rituals (Darling 1984; Ezele 2002; Imafidon 1987). In the late 15th or early 16th century, Udo was eventually defeated by Benin, and most of its inhabitants left the area, settling in other parts of Nigeria. It seems very likely that it was at this point that the previously farmed landscape south of Udo grew into a large forest that eventually became Okomu Forest Reserve.

Jones translation from Dutch original: ‘How far the kingdom of Benin stretches from the south to the north is as yet unknown, because some places are cut off from each other by impenetrable bush’ (Jones 1998, 8); ‘The country of Benin is very low-lying and densely wooded, broken up at intervals by rivers and marshes’ (Jones 1998, 12). My own translation from German 1670 edition: ‘How far the kingdom of Benin stretches from the south to the north is as yet unknown, because some places are cut off from each other by impenetrable bushes’ (Dapper 1670, 486); ‘The country of Benin is very low-lying and bushy, broken in many places and full of marshes and in others not very rich in water’ (Dapper 1670, 487).

From the late 15th century onwards, Benin was a recognised regional power and became an important trading partner for European traders (Ryder 1969). First Portuguese and later also British, Dutch and French visitors came to the Benin Kingdom and wrote various descriptions of the lands and people they encountered. Altogether there is a considerable amount of material available, but it contains relatively little information on the landscape itself. The Portuguese aims in West Africa were to facilitate navigation, expand trade, and to spread Portuguese culture and religion, and they tended to write short and precise accounts for their governments (Blake 1942; Crone 1937). Early English visitors like Anthony Ingram, James Welsh and T. Windham similarly were mostly interested in trade and wrote only very short reports (Hakluyt 1907). From the 17th century onwards, there are a range of more extensive German and especially Dutch records, notably by Olfert Dapper and D. van Nyendael, which reflect a growing European interest in the wider world and describe Benin City, its inhabitants and customs in great detail (for overviews see Jones 1983; van den Boogaart 1987). These texts do contain some material on landscape, but are problematic in other respects. Many of the ‘authors’ never went to the Benin Kingdom themselves but relied on informants. This includes the work of Dapper, one of the most detailed and important sources on Benin history (Dapper 1668; 1670; Jones 1998). Those who went themselves, like Nyendael, generally did not go much beyond the river or the trading posts on its shores, whilst visitors to Benin city itself were quite restricted in their movements as their hosts insisted on guiding them around (Roth 1968). Moreover, many of these early texts have been published and reprinted in many different editions and translations, all of which contain many mistakes (Henige 1987; Jones 1987; Jones and Heintze 1987). The standard English edition of Nyendael’s accounts by William Bosman, for example, originally published in 1705, is known to be slightly problematic due to its liberal translation (Bosman 1705; 1967). With regard to the few landscape descriptions that are available, this can be very misleading, and one has to be very careful in choosing the right edition to work from.

Nyendael, 1705 Writing about the country surrounding Gwatto: ‘Bating the said contagion of the climate, this is a very desirable place to trade, by reason of the pleasantness of the river and adjacent country, which is very even ground, without hills, and yet rises by gentle degrees, which affords the most agreeable prospect in the world; which is yet improved by the multitude of trees which stand so regular, as if they were designedly planted in that order’ (Bosman 1967, 429). On the country around Benin City: ‘the Circumjacent Country is as pleasant as could be wish’d, where no interposing Hill or Wood rudely interrupts the agreeable Prospect of thousands of charming Trees, which by their wide extended Branches full of Leaves, seem to invite Mankind to repose under their Shade’ (Bosman 1967, 466). Adams, 1823 ‘The face of the country surrounding Benin bears much of the same character as that of Ardrah and Grewhe, except that it is more thickly wooded’ (Adams 1966, 110). Adams descriptions of the towns of Grewhe (‘which may be called the sea port of Dahomey’, 6°17’ north, longitd 3°6’ east) and Ardrah (situated between Wydah and Lagos), both in the Dahomey Gap, are as follows: ‘The country surrounding Grewhe is fertile, open, and level, exhibiting large savannahs covered with high grass, although in some parts thickly wooded with fine grown trees’ (Adams 1966, 61). Travelling from the coast to Ardrah: ‘the remainder of the road passes through variegated country, part of which is thickly wooded and swampy; but the greatest portion of it is open and park-like, perfectly level and interspersed with trees’ (Adams 1966, 76). ‘The surrounding country [at Ardrah] is champaign, and finely wooded’ (Adams 1966, 77).

These, then, are the most direct landscape descriptions of the Benin area I found, which are listed in chronological order and will be discussed below.

In contrast, he describes the kingdom of Warré, just south of Benin: ‘This country is covered with an impenetrable forest’ (Adams 1966, 111).

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Was Benin a forest kingdom? Attempting to reconstruct landscapes in Southern Nigeria I put in the two different translations of Dapper to demonstrate that, in the absence of the Dutch original, his descriptions are ambiguous. If the 1670 German version is closer to the original than Adam Jones’ modern English translation, then Dapper’s text indicates a bushy, rather than wooded landscape. The descriptions of Nyendael and Adams, moreover, who in contrast to Dapper travelled to Benin themselves, describe the landscape as much more open around Benin City. To Eustace Jones, Nyendael’s description suggested a ‘park-like country’ (Jones 1956, 104), and indeed, the ‘charming trees’, ‘which, by their wide extended Branches full of Leaves, seem to invite Mankind to repose under their Shade’ do rather remind one of the kind of landscape found today further North, where the savanna is dotted with many broad, shade giving trees. But even more persuasive of an open landscape than this somewhat fanciful conjecture is Adam’s comparison to the ‘champaign’ landscapes of Ardrah and Grewhe, rather than to the ‘impenetrable’ forests of Warri. Overall, one gets the impression that, from the 16th to the 19th century, the country was fairly forested, but not totally covered in forest; rather, a mixture of more forested and more open parts.

horses are ‘very small, and not much larger than our calves at home, which is why they are so much honoured and esteemed’(D.R. and Naber 1912, 239). Landolphe also mentions horses, whilst Fawkner, in the early 19th century, saw three fine horses grazing [near the Benin City market], and, it being rather an unusual sight, I enquired to whom they belonged; I was answered that they were the king’s; but they had not been ridden for some time, and the natives were now afraid to mount them (Fawkner 1837, quoted in Roth 1968, 148). Many of the Benin bronzes also depict horses, all of the smaller kind that D.R. describes (Ben-Amos 1995; Law 1980). Because horses generally cannot survive long in the forest zone, due to sleeping sickness, and were indeed no longer found in Benin City by the time he reached it in 1897, Cyril Punch, already mentioned above, speculated that ‘perhaps long ago Benin was not in the forest’ (Roth 1968, 148). Having said this, the kind of ‘dwarf horses’ depicted in the bronzes and described by D.R., like similar dwarf goats and cattle found only in the West African forest zone, are very sturdy and may be less pray to fly-born diseases such as sleeping-sickness than their larger, Northern counterparts (Blench 1993). Horses used as cavalry in warfare would have definitely implied a much more open landscape, as such warfare would be impossible to conduct in thick bush (Smith 1989), but unlike neighbouring Yoruba states (Law 1980), the Benin Army is said not to have had horse cavalry. Nonetheless, Landolphe describes a ‘cavalry’ of ponies as an important part of the Benin army (Landolph 1823, 35), and Dapper recounts a cavalry attack by the neighbouring kingdom of Isago on the Benin Kingdom, although it is not clear where this attack takes place:

As landscape descriptions like this are relatively few, it is also interesting to have a brief look at the kinds of animals mentioned by visitors, although these are often rather fanciful. Thus, amongst a very long list – containing rather improbable tigers – Dapper also mentions ostriches and ‘very large hippopotamuses’ (Dapper 1668, 13). The French trader Captaine Landolphe (1823) who visited Benin several times at the end of the 18th century took a keen interest in the fauna of the area, describing it, like the rest of his experience, with much enthusiasm and flourish. As well as a heroic encounter with a tiger, and a great number of different snakes, fishes and birds, he, too, describes a large hippopotamus (Landolpe 1823, 15). Whilst these sources may well not be reliable, ostriches or hippopotamuses do seem to suggest a more open environment than high forest, if indeed they did live in the Benin area.

“The kingdom of Isago [Jones: not easily identifiable], which is tributary to the King of Benin, borders in the West of Benin. The land has an abundance of horses, which the inhabitants use in warfare. Some years ago the people of Isago once ventured to conquer Benin with several thousand cavalrymen by means of a surprise attack. But they were disappointed, and they themselves were conquered and made tributary; for the people of Benin, having gained knowledge of the attack in good time, at once dug a large number of holes in the level ground, covered them with earth and advanced towards the people of Isago, who put up a fierce resistance. Those of Benin, on the other hand, gave way gradually, deliberately moving backwards, and retreated between the holes, which they could recognize by means of certain signs. Thereupon the Isagosas pursued their enemy with all the more eagerness, but most of them fell into the holes, from which the Benin people drew them out and slew almost all of them (Jones 1998, 27).

The animal of greatest interest to European merchants in the 16th and 17th century - or rather its tusks - was the elephant, as ivory was one of the main items purchased in the Benin Kingdom at that time (Ryder 1969). These tusks may be of interest to us, here, too, as the small forest and the large savanna elephant have very different tusks, the former being much shorter and straighter. Today, in Okomu forest, the smaller forest elephant is found, but during the 17th century, both tusk types were bought by the Dutch, who distinguished between them (Becroft and Jamieson 1841, 188). Furthermore, most ivory carvings on the Oba’s shrines are made on long, curved tusks. But the animal that has excited most interest in terms of the Benin Kingdom’s vegetation past is the horse. Apart from Dapper, horses are also mentioned by the Dutch visitor ‘D.R.’, who was in Benin around 1600 and describes how the nobility rode horses, decorated in various ways. These

Overall, descriptions of animals and warfare cannot serve as conclusive evidence of what the landscape looked like from the 16th to the 19th century, but they do fit the

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives impression of a mixed, fairly wooded landscape gained from the direct landscape descriptions above.

of this kind, especially given the problems with Bosman’s translation. Pereira and Marees mention millet being grown around the Portuguese castle at Mina, but there are no other references to any kind of corn by other writers on Benin. Nonetheless, guinea corn production here at this time could potentially be interesting in view of the recent findings of early pearl millet agriculture in southern Cameroon.

In addition to being partly open, partly forested, the landscape was also shaped by widespread farming. There are many descriptions by early visitors of the foods they tried out and saw in the market, and in particular of their purchases. These include, in particular, yam, palm wine and palm oil, and Welsh writes that there are ‘great stores of palme tree’ growing in the country (Hakluyt 1907, 297). Nyendael also mentions ‘great milhio’:

Another crop interesting in this respect is cotton. James Welsh reports a ‘great store of cotton growing’ (Hakluyt 1907, 297), and Dapper that cotton grows in ‘great abundance’ (Jones 1998, 13); in fact virtually all visitors to Benin mention cotton (see also Bosman 1967; Brun 1983; Landolphe 1823; Marees 1602). Cotton cloth became the most important item of export in the 17th century, which the Dutch bought to sell on at the Gold Coast (Ryder 1969). Of course, it seems likely that Benin City bought some of this from other areas further north and sold it on to the Dutch, but still, a large amount must have grown in the Benin area itself. Even in the 19th century, Moffat and Smith report that ‘cotton is indigenous in Benin, and is spun there and woven into cloth by women’(Becroft 1841, 192). Given that cotton nowadays grows primarily and best in Northern Nigeria, and generally in drier parts of the world, perhaps this is also indicative of different conditions in the Benin Kingdom in the 15th to 17th century. Having said this, the elders of Iguowan in Okomu Reserve today still recall that ‘so much cotton used to grow around here’. If cotton was grown here within living memory, perhaps it is not such a strong indicator of a more open and drier past landscape. At any rate, the fact that there was so much cotton grown, and an abundance of oil palm and yam, suggests an overall landscape very much like Oates and White or Jones suggested, a mosaic of oil palm groves, secondary forest and farms. It may have been in this kind of landscape that the majority of Benin iya earthworks that are found throughout the heartland of the former Benin Kingdom (Darling 1984) were built, as boundaries between different administrative parts of the Benin Kingdom. Darling argues that they began to be built around 800AD, as part of a second movement by Edo speaking people from further north into the Benin area, but of the few carbon dates obtained so far the earliest is 1300 AD (Darling 1984, Connah 1975).

The Fruits of the Earth are, first, Corn, or great Milhio; for they have none of the small Sort. The large Milhio is here very cheap, but they do not esteem it; wherefore but little is sow’d, which yet yields a prodigious quantity of Grain, and grows very luxuriously (Bosman 1967, 458). At the beginning of the 20th century, the forester Cyril Punch commented on this: There is a question as to whether Nyendael, speaking of great milhio, refers to Indian corn (maize) or millet (Guinea corn). The cultivation of these two is local, but broadly speaking, maize is grown on cleared forest while millet thrives best in open country (Roth 1968, 147). I have so far found only one other reference to ‘great’ and ‘small’ milhio. Thus, in his New Voyage to Guinea, W. Smith (1744) writes about the Gold Coast’s agricultural crops: What occurs next is their Corn; of which there are three Sorts on the Gold Coast. The first is Rice. The second is the large Millet; by some call’d Indian Wheat, being a large flat grain, which grows on a stalk of about ten foot high, out of which sprouts two and often three other stalks, each bearing three or four hundred grains a-piece. Of this sort they have two harvests in a year, and with so little trouble that two people here can do more in in a Day than a good plough in Europe. This sort of corn is sold by the Thousand, viz. the Thousand Ears, which when stripp’d and thresh’d, makes about five bushels, and is worth about a Crown sterling. The other sort is a small Millet, by the Portuguese called Maize. The grain is like coriander-seed. The Ear of this as much resembles an ear of oats, as the other does an Ear of Wheat, either of them, if well clear’d from the Bran, make a very good bread (Smith 1744, 164).

It would, however, be wrong to imagine that the whole of the Benin Kingdom was heavily farmed throughout the 13th to early 19th century. Like Udo, almost all parts of the Kingdom experienced warfare of one kind or another, with Benin City either conquering new areas or subduing rebellious uprisings against it. There were also civil wars in Benin City itself, such as from the end of the 17th to the early 18th century, which is why Nyendael found it in such a ruinous state (Ben-Amos and Thornton 2001). Thus, population levels in Benin City and other areas fluctuated considerably, as people fled and migrated away (Okpewko 1998). As at Okomu, forests would have grown relatively quickly in these deserted parts, the landscape thus very much reflecting the turbulent interactions between its

If the terms ‘great’ and ‘small’ were used frequently and with the same meaning by both Dutch and English visitors to the whole of the Guinea Coast and over the course of a century, then this does seem to indicate that Nyendael was indeed referring to millet, rather than maize. The similarity of comments on the ease with which it is grown and harvested, and the little effort put into its cultivation, is noticeable too. Perhaps this one remark from Nyendael is insufficient evidence in itself on which to base a claim 98

Was Benin a forest kingdom? Attempting to reconstruct landscapes in Southern Nigeria inhabitants. In the last decades of the 19th century, the Benin Kingdom, unwilling to loosen its tight state control over trade with Europeans, found itself increasingly isolated. European merchants conducted more and more trade, now mostly in oil palm, with traders in the south such as Nanna. Conditions seem to have deteriorated quite a lot, and population levels became, it seems, very low throughout the Edo areas. As already mentioned above, 19th century depopulation was a widespread phenomenon in West Africa. Apart from warfare, there may have been other reasons for this general depopulation, such as small pox and other illnesses, as Jones speculates (Jones 1956, Fairhead and Leach 1998).

may reflect changes in attitudes towards West Africa as much as actual landscape changes, as the more benign portrayals of West African peoples and landscapes of 17th and 18th century visitors gave way to increasingly lurid descriptions of the dangers, evils, and ‘dense forests’ of West Africa in the late 19th century (Pratt 1992). Moreover, the impressions gained from taking this path alone may also have been very misleading. This was pointed out by H. N. Thompson, the first Director of Nigeria’s forest department, after his first survey of the forests of Southern Nigeria at the beginning of the 20th century: […] extensive forests like those met with in the moist zone of Burma, through which the forester can wander for days without coming across the traces of human habitation, are practically absent here. It is true that persons may by travelling merely along the native roads and paths come to an opposite conclusion, but they have only to strike out to the right and left of such lines for a short distance to find that the usual belts of forest left along roadsides quickly give place to farm lands (Thompson 1906, 261).

Did the political turmoil and depopulation of the late 19th century lead to forest growth in the Benin Kingdom? This seems to be suggested by a comparison of 19th century descriptions of the route from Gwatto to Benin City, the main route that all visitors to Benin city took: Adams, 1823 ‘The course of the road from Gatto to the capital is about NE by N, and the road passes over a country nearly level, intersected with deep woods and swamps’ (Adams 1966, 110).

Thus despite the political turmoil and depopulation of the 19th century, it seems that forests had still not completely taken over by the early 20th century; there was still much used or only recently abandoned farmland, and most of the forest that was there, as Thompson continues, ‘consist[ed] of secondary growth that ha[d] sprung up since the native farms were last abandoned’. This was confirmed again later by J. F. Redhead. Working in the Benin area as a forester in the 1950s and 60s, he describes how in the course of his work he came across many iya earthworks in forested areas. Discussing the history of the Benin Kingdom as a whole and its gradual decline from the 17th century onwards, Redhead speculates that

Moffat and Smith, 1841 ‘The next day they were carried in their cots to the city of Benin. Distant from Gatto about 20 miles, in a northeasterly direction, the country on their route being finely wooded, and in some places very beautiful’ (Moffat and Smith 1841, 190). Punch, 1889 ‘The road after leaving Egwatu is a mere bush path and during the wet season is converted into a running stream’. Later along the road, he mentions a ‘two hours march through dense forests’.4

It is likely that, when the Benin Kingdom went into decline, settlements now marked only by ditch and mound earthworks, began to be abandoned. Existing mature forest, within or near these earthworks, is not likely to be older than the beginning of this period. [...] Historical accounts and tradition, and the presence of many ditches and mounds throughout the forests of Benin Division, point to the former existence of a very large population (Redhead 1992, 116-7) .

Gallwey, 1893 ‘Benin City lies about 25 miles from Gwato, the whole route being through dense forest, with the exception of the last mile or two’ (Gallwey 1893). Boisragon, 1897

The majority of Benin forests, then, grew at a relatively recent date; indeed, it is possible that further forest growth occurred in the early 20th century, between Thompson’s and Redhead’s observations.

‘if one tries to imagine a thick wood in which big and little trees all intermingle their branches, with a tremendous dense undergrowth of shrubbery of all sorts, with brambles and various other evildoing thorns, all woven together into a maze so thick that neither man nor beast can press through it, one comes somewhere near the idea’ (Boisragon 1897).

Conclusion The archaeological and historical evidence currently available suggests that the idea of Benin being a ‘forest kingdom’ needs to be revised. Whilst there were undoubtedly numerous forests, woodlands and trees in the area throughout Benin history, the kingdom was not actually established in thick forest. Instead, it seems likely that the kingdom emerged in a landscape still quite open

These descriptions do suggest a change from a more mixed and open landscape to one thickly forested throughout the entire journey from Gwatto to Benin City. However, this evidence still needs to be treated cautiously. For one, it 4

Rhodes House Archives, Oxford, Mss. Afr. S. 1913/2, 18-19.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives after the dry period of 4 – 2,500 BP, and that by the 17th century or so it was quite highly populated and farmed, albeit with ongoing warfare and displacement. Political turmoil and warfare increased and as the kingdom went into decline in the 19th century, so forests grew on abandoned farmland, and continued to grow in the early 20th century, but the area was never actually completely covered in high forest. The emergence of a centralised monarchy in the Benin area and its rule over a large territory is therefore, at least in this respect, rather less astonishing than has been assumed. References Adams, C. J. 1966. Remarks on the Country Extending from Cape Palmas to the River Congo with an Appendix containing an account of the European trade with the West Coast of Africa. London, Frank Cass & Co LtD. Andah, B. 1987. Agricultural Beginnings and Early Farming Communities in West and Central Africa, West African Journal of Archaeology, 17, 171-204. Andah, B. 1993. Identifying early farming traditions of West Africa, in T. Shaw, P. Sinclair, B. Andah and A. Okpoko (eds.), The Archaeology of Africa. Food, metals and towns, 240-54. London, Routledge. Barber, R. J. 1985. Land Snails and past Environment at the Igbo-Iwoto Esie Site, Southwestern Nigeria, West African Journal of Archaeology, 15, 89-102. Becroft, J. 1841. Account of a Visit to the Capital of Benin, in the Delta of the Kwara or Niger, in the Year 1838, Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, 11, 190-2. Becroft, J. and Jamieson, R. 1841. On Benin and the upper course of the River Quorra or Niger, Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, 11, 184-90. Ben-Amos, P. G. 1995. The Art of Benin. London, British Museum Press. Ben-Amos, P. G. and Thornton, J. 2001. Civil War in the Kingdom of Benin, 1689-1721: Continuity or Political Change, Journal of African History, 42, 353-76. Blake, J. W. (ed.) 1942. Europeans in West Africa, 14501560. London, Hakluyt Society. Blench, R. 1993. Ethnographic and linguistic evidence for the prehistory of African ruminant livestock, horses and ponies, in T. Shaw, A. R. E. Sinclair, B. Andah and A. Okpoko (eds.), The Archaeology of Africa. Food, metals and towns, London, Routledge. Boisragon, A. 1897. The Benin Massacre (by One of its Two Survivors). London, Methuen. Bondarenko, D. M. and Roese, P. M. 1999. Benin Prehistory. The Origin and Settling Down of the Edo, Anthropos, 94, 542-52. Bosman, W. 1705. A New and Accurate Description of the Coast of Guinea. London. Bosman, W. 1967. A New and Accurate Description of the Coast of Guinea. London, Frank Cass & Co. Ltd. Brooks, G. E. 1993. Landlords and Strangers: Ecology, Society and Trade in Western Africa, 1000-1630. Boulder and Oxford, Westview Press.

Brun, S. 1983. Samuel Brun, des Wundartzet und Burgers zu Basel, Schiffarten, in A. Jones (ed.), German Sources for West African History, 1599-1669, Wiesbaden. Connah, G. 1975. The Archaeology of Benin. Excavations and other researches in and around Benin City, Nigeria. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Connah, G. 1987. African civilizations. Precolonial cities and states in tropical Africa: an archaeological perspective. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Crone, G. R. (ed.) 1937. The voyages of Cadamosto and Other Documents on Western Africa in the Second Half of the Fifteenth Century. London. D’Andrea, A. C., Klee, M. and Casey, J. 2001. Archaeobotanical Evidence for Pearl Millet (Pennisetum glaucum) in Sub-Saharan West Africa, Antiquity, 75, 341-8. D.R. and Naber, S. P. L. H. 1912. Beschryvinge ende historische verhael vant Gout Koninckrijk van Gunea. S-Gravenhage, Martinus Nijhoff. Dapper, O. 1668. Neukeurige beschrijvinge der Afrikaensche gewesten. Amsterdam. Dapper, O. 1670. Umbstaendliche und Eigentliche Beschreibung von Afrika. Amsterdam. Darling, P. 1977. A Change of Territory: Attempts to Trace more than a Thousand Years of Population Movements by the Benin and Ishan Peoples in Southern Nigeria, in C. Fyfe and D. Ma? (eds.), African Historical Demography. Darling, P. 1984. Archaeology and History in Southern Nigeria. The ancient linear earthworks of Benin and Ishan. Oxford, British Archaeological Reports International Series 215. Egharevba, J. U. 1968. A Short History of Benin. Ibadan, Ibadan University Press. Fairhead, J. and Leach, M. 1998. Reframing Deforestation. Global analysis and local realities: studies in West Africa. London, Routledge. Fawkner, C. J. 1837. Narrative of Captain James Fawkner’s travels on the coast of Benin .. edited by a friend of the Captain. London. Gallwey, H. 1893. Journeys in the Benin Country, West Africa, Geographical Journal, 1, 122-30. Hakluyt, R. (ed.) 1907. The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques, and Discoveries of the British Nation. London, J.M Dent and Sons. Henige, D. 1987. The Race is not always to the Swift. Thoughts on the Use of Written Sources for the Study of Early African History, Paideuma, 33, 53-79. Imafidon, A. 1987. Edo-Udo Relations: An Aspect of the External Relations of the Benin Kingdom. Unpublished MA Thesis, University of Benin. Jones, A. (ed.) 1983. German sources for West African history, 1599-1669. Wiesbaden. Jones, A. 1987. A Critique of Editorial and Quasi-Editorial Work on Pre-1885 European Sources for Sub-Saharan Africa, 1960-1986, Paideuma, 33, 95-105. Jones, A. (ed.) 1998. Olfert Dapper’s Description of Benin (1668). Madison, University of Wisconsin. Jones, A. and Heintze, B. 1987. European Sources for Sub-

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Was Benin a forest kingdom? Attempting to reconstruct landscapes in Southern Nigeria Saharan African Before 1900: Use and Abuse. Special Edition, Paideuma, 33. Jones, E. W. 1956. Ecological Studies on the Rain forest of southern Nigeria: IV (continued) The Plateau forest of the Okomu forest reserve, Part 2: the reproduction and history of the forest, Journal of Ecology, 44, 83-117. Keay, R. W. J. and Onochie, C. F. 1947. Some Observations on the Sobo Plains, Farm and Forest, 8(2), 71-80. Landolphe, C. J. F. 1823. Memoires du Capitaine Landolphe, Contenant l’Histoire de ses Voyages. Paris, A. Bertrand. Law, R. 1980. The Horse in West African History. The role of the horse in the societies of pre-colonial West Africa. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Maley, J. 1996. Fluctuations majeures de la forêt dense humide africaine, in C. M. Hladik, A. Hladik, H. Pagezy, O. F. Linares, G. J. A. Koppert and A. Froment (eds.), L’Alimentation en forêt tropicale. Maley, J. 2001. Elaeis guineensis Jacq. (oil palm) fluctuations in central Africa during the late Holocene: climate or human driving forces for this pioneering species?, Vegetation History and Archaeobotany, 10(2), 117-20. Maley, J. 2002. A Catastrophic Destruction of African Forests about 2,500 Years Ago Still Exerts a Major Influence on Present Vegetation Formations, IDS Bulletin, 33(1), 13-30. Marees, P. d. 1602. Beschryvinge ende historische verhael vant Gout Koninckrijk van Gunea. Amsterdam. McCann, J. C. 1999. Green Land, Brown Land, Black Land. An Environmental History of Africa, 1800-1990. Oxford, James Currey. Moffat and Smith 1841. An Account of the Visit to the Capital of Benin in the Delta of the Kwara or Niger in the Year 1838. Communicated by Robert Jamieson, Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, 11. Neumann, K. 2006. Ölpalme, Perlhirse und Banane. Wie kam die Landwirtschaft in den Regenwald Zentralafrikas?, Forschung Frankfurt, 2-3, 38-41. Ngomanda, A., Neumann, K., Schweizer, A. and Maley, J. 2009. Seasonality change and the third millennium BP rainforest crisis in southern Cameroon (Central Africa), Quaternary Research, 71(3), 307-18. Nicholson, S. E. 1978. Climatic Variations in the Sahel and other African regions during the past five centuries, Journal of Arid Environments, 1, 3-24. Nicholson, S. E. 1980. Saharan climates in historic times, in M. A. J. Williams and H. Faure (eds.), The Sahara and the Nile: Quaternary Environments and Prehistoric Occupations in Northern Africa, 173-200. Rotterdam, A. A. Balkema. Okpewko, I. 1998. Once Upon a Kingdom. Myth, Hegemony and Identity. Bloomington & Indianapolis, Indiana University Press. Osemeobo, G. J. 1988. The Human Causes of Forest Depletion in Nigeria, Environmental Conservation, 15(1), 17-28. Pratt, M. L. 1992. Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and

Transculturation. London, Routledge. Redhead, J. F. 1992. The Forest Kingdom of Benin, Nigeria, The Nigerian Field, 57, 113-8. Roese, P. and Bondarenko, D. 2003. A Popular History of Benin: The Rise and Fall of a Mighty Forest Kingdom. Frankfurt am Main, Peter Lang. Roth, H. L. 1968. Great Benin. Its Customs, Art and Horrors. London, Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd. Ryder, A. F. C. 1969. Benin and the Europeans 1485-1897. London, Longmans, Green and Co Ltd. Salzmann, U. and Hoelzmann, P. 2005. The Dahomey Gap: an abrupt climatically induced rain forest fragmentation in West Africa during the late Holocene, The Holocene, 15(2), 190-9. Shaw, T. 1980. Prehistory, in O. Ikime (ed.), Groundwork of Nigerian History, Ibadan, Heinemann Educational Books (Nigeria). Shaw, T. and Daniels, S. G. H. 1984. Excavations at Iwo Eleru, West African Journal of Archaeology, 14, 1-195. Smith, R. S. 1989. Warfare and Diplomacy in Pre-Colonial West Africa. London, James Currey. Smith, W. 1744. A New Voyage to Guinea. London, J. Nourse. Sowunmi, M. A. 1986. Change of vegetation with time, in G. W. Lawson (ed.), Plant Ecology in West Africa, 273307. London, John Wiley & Sons Ltd. Sowunmi, M. A. 1999. The significance of the oil palm (Elaeis guineensis Jacq.) in the late Holocene environments of west and west central Africa: a further consideration, Vegetation History and Archaebotany, 8, 199-210. Talbot, M. R. and Delibrias, G. 1977. Holocene variations in the level of Lake Bosumtwi, Ghana, Nature, 268, 722-4. Thompson, H. N. 1906. Forestry and Agriculture, Civil Service List and Handbook of the Colony and Protectorate of Southern Nigeria 1906, Lagos, Government of Southern Nigeria. Udo, R. K. 1970. Geographical Regions of Nigeria. London, Heinemann. van den Boogaart, E. 1987. Books on Black Africa. The Dutch Publications and their Owners in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, Paideuma, 33, 115-26. Vincens, A., Schwartz, D., Elenga, H., Reynaud-Farrera, I., Alexandre, A., Bertaux, J., Mariotti, A., Martin, L., Meunier, J.-D., Nguetsop, F., Servant, M., ServantVildary, S. and Wirrmann, D. 1999. Forest Response to climate changes in Atlantic Equatorial Africa during the last 4000 years BP and inheritance on the modern landscape, Journal of Biogeography, 26, 879-85. White, L. J. T. and Oates, J. F. 1999. New data on the history of the plateau forest of Okomu, southern Nigeria: an insight into how human disturbance has shaped the African rainforest, Global Ecology and Biogeography, 8, 355-61. Wilks, I. 1993. Forests of Gold: Essays on the Akan and the Kingdom of Asante. Athens, Ohio University Press.

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The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria: some preliminary results A. E. Orijemie,1 A. Ogunfolakan,2 J. O.Aleru,1 and M. A. Sowunmi1 1

Abstract

Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, University of Ibadan, Ibadan, Nigeria. 2 Natural History Museum, Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Nigeria [email protected]

Archaeological investigations at Ajaba, an abandoned settlement of the Igbomina people in Northeast Yoruba land, yielded a rich array of cultural materials comprising a variety of pottery, animal bones, shells, lithic tools, iron slag, charcoal, tuyere and furnace fragments, and vegetal remains. The lowest level dated yielded a mean calibrated date of AD 1263. One of the aims of the investigation is to ascertain the relationships of Ajaba people with the rest of the Yoruba. Evidence from pottery typology in this study does not indicate a strong link with any other specific Yoruba group. The palynological analysis revealed the occurrence of exotic ornamentals, probably the first botanical evidence of such plants from an archaeological site in Nigeria. Furthermore, at the time when human population at the site increased there is a notable indication of forest clearance, presumably in preparation for farming and to obtain fuel for domestic purposes. Key words: Southwest Nigeria, iron-age settlement, ornamentals, forest clearance.

Introduction The Igbomina people are a Yoruba group who occupy the Northeastern part of Yoruba land. Some archaeological investigations have been carried out in recent times, in an attempt to decipher the past ways of these people and their relationships with the other Yoruba groups, particularly those of Old Oyo and Ile-Ife (Ogunfolakan, 1994; Aleru, 2006). Most Yoruba groups claim to have originated from either Old Oyo or Ile-Ife. The present investigation carried out in the Igbomina region yielded a variety of cultural materials, namely: pottery, lithic tools, bones, animal and plant remains, iron slag, charcoal, tuyere and furnace fragments. The analysis of these finds provided valuable information which has shed light on the past ways of the Igbomina people, as well as on their relationships with the rest of the Yoruba people. It is now very well known that archaeological investigations are more comprehensive if carried out within an environmental context; consequently, in order to ascertain the botanical environment of Ajaba and the interaction of the people with this environment, a palynological study of some of the excavated soil samples was carried out. The archaeological investigation was done by two of us (A.O. and J.O.A.), while the palynological study was carried out by the first author (A.E.O.), with the collaboration of the fourth (M.A.S.). The study of the macro-vegetal and faunal remains is on-going. The emphasis of this paper is the palynological study, while the results and interpretation of the archaeological finds are highlighted briefly and integrated. Since the pioneering work of Lennart von Post in 1916, there have been great advances in the application of palynology in palaeoenvironmental studies and relative dating. Lennart von Post in 1925 was the first to examine fossil pollen from archaeological sites (Bryant and Holloway, 1996). Palynology subsequently has been employed with great

success in many archaeological researches throughout the world. The palynological analyses of excavated soil samples, human coprolites and fossilized honey, for example, have shed light on prehistoric diets, food preparation techniques and subsistence economies, human impact on the natural vegetation, beginning of agriculture, burial practices, history of man-made fires, among others (cf. Bryant, 1974; Sowunmi, 1976,1985; Kirch, 1996; Jensen, 2004; Duffin, 2008). In Nigeria, palynological studies have been carried out, with positive results, at four archaeological off- or onsites: (1) Palynological evidence from an off-site location in the Niger delta suggests that by about 2,800 BP there was human interference with the natural vegetation in the adjacent forest zone and perhaps parts of the deltaic plains, through agricultural practices (Sowunmi, 1981a, b; 1985). (2) The palynological study by Sowunmi and Awosina (1991) of soil samples from both the terrace and the interior of a Late Stone Age rockshelter at Kariya Wuro, northeastern Nigeria, in the Northern Guinea-Sudan savanna zone, excavated by Allsworth-Jones (1991) indicated that the vegetation at the time of occupation was essentially similar to that of the present day. Furthermore, there seems to be continuity from the Late Stone Age up till today with regard to the exploitation of plants in the area for food and medicinal purposes (Sowunmi and Awosina, 1991). (3) Oyelaran (1998) carried out a palynological and sedimentological study of a core from Osaru pond, which is about 1 km. southwest of the Itaakpa rock shelter excavated by him in the northern part of southwestern Nigeria. He obtained a very clear evidence of an upsurge in oil palm pollen and a change in vegetation from wet forest to dry savanna, both attributable to human destruction of the forest. 103

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 1: Map of Osun State showing Ila-Orangun Local Government Area and other Local Government Areas in the State

Figure 2: Study Site and some nearby towns 104

The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria (4) Pollen analysis at Ahanve, a village in the Badagry area, southwest Nigeria, gave a strong indication that through the felling and burning of forest trees humans, from some time after ca. 3,109 ± 26 BP, contributed to the destruction of forest vegetation and the concomitant phenomenal rise in Elaeis guineensis, resulting in the extension of the coastal park savanna (Sowunmi, 2004). Archaeological finds of a ground stone axe, charred palm kernels, and charcoal at a level above the one dated to 2,670 ± 90 BP at Apa, a site just east of Ahanve in the Badagry area (Alabi, 1999) seem to support this indication. The aims of this present study are first, to understand the relationship of Ajaba with other Yoruba groups in southwest Nigeria; secondly, to reconstruct the vegetation history of the area; and thirdly, to ascertain the nature of human interactions with the environment. The Study Site: Ajaba Ajaba is an abandoned settlement site located in Osun State (Figures 1-2). The area is well drained by numerous seasonal streams which have their sources from hill tops. The mean annual rainfall ranges between 114.3mm and 139.7mm, and the mean annual temperature is 26-27°C. The people who are adjacent to the site belong mainly to the Igbomina Yoruba sub-group. Their main occupation is the farming of food crops such as cassava, yam, oranges, banana, cocoa, and trading. They are also noted for the tapping of wine from the oil palm tree. Present-day vegetation The present-day vegetation of Ajaba is derived savanna with relicts of trees typical of the drier type of rainforest. In the immediate vicinity of the excavated mound, about 3-5m away, are Khaya grandifoliola, Chrysophyllum albidum, Nauclea diderrichii, Ceiba pentandra, Elaeis guineensis, Raphia vinifera, Milicia excelsa, Plukenetia conophora (African walnut tree), Alstonia boonei, Dracaena arborea, Vernonia amygdalina, Cordia millenii, Chromolaena odorata, and Senna sp. There are also cultivated plants such as cocoa (Theobroma cacao), cassava (Manihot esculenta), yam (Dioscorea spp.), pepper (Capsicum sp), banana (Musa paradisiaca), plantain (M. sapientum), and cocoyam (Colocasia sp.). Other cultivars are Carica papaya, orange (Citrus sinensis), coconut (Cocos nucifera) and pineapple (Ananas comosus). The following plants were found within a radial distance of 400-800m from the excavated site: Blighia sapida, Albizia saman, Cocos nucifera, Newbouldia laevis, Tectona grandis, Carica papaya, Thaumatococcus daniellii, Duranta repens (yellow bush), Thevetia neriifolia and Napoleonaea imperialis. Materials and Methods Archaeology Archaeological excavations were conducted in January 2006, in a refuse mound situated near a sacred grove.

The mound was chosen because on its surface was an abundance of pottery, suggestive of a possible richness of archaeological material within. A 1x2m trench, with a maximum depth of 1.20m (50 cm in the mound and 70 cm in the ground below it) was dug. The trench consisted of twelve 10 cm spit levels. Radiometric Dating Samples of charcoal obtained from level 40-50 cm and at a depth of 103 cm of the excavated trench were radiocarbondated at the University of Washington, Quaternary Isotope Laboratory (see below). Palynology Pollen analysis of six soil samples from levels 98cm, 76cm, 51cm, 34cm, 20cm and 11cm of the western wall of the excavated trench was carried out. The soil samples were collected, as is conventional, from the bottom upwards, thus eliminating the contamination of lower layers by upper ones. One gram of each sample was subjected to standard pollen analysis procedures (Faegri and Iversen, 1989). After acetolysis, 10µl of the treated subsample in 50% glycerine was mounted on each of four microscope slides. Microscopic study of the slides was done with an Olympus CH 30 microscope with an attached camera. The counting of palynomorphs was done under both x20 and x40 objectives. The total number of pollen counted per layer ranged from 11 (20cm.) to 190 (98 cm.), whilst the pollen count per gram of sub-sample (absolute pollen count) ranged between 83 (20cm) and 2375 (98cm). All palynomorphs encountered during counting were recorded and constituted the pollen sums. Because of its being overrepresented at 98cm, the pollen count for Lagerstroemia indica was excluded from the pollen sum at that depth though the representation of the species was calculated as a percentage of the total pollen count. Identification of the palynomorphs was done using the reference pollen slides collection at the Palynology Laboratory, Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, University of Ibadan. This reference collection contains slides of about 3600 extant Nigerian species. Photomicrographs in albums at this Laboratory as well as those in relevant literature were also used. Identification was facilitated because the grains were well preserved. The various taxa were classified into phytoecological groups based on their present-day natural distributions (Hutchinson and Dalziel, 1954, 1958, 1963, 1968, 1972; Keay, 1959). Photographs of the most important palynomorphs encountered were taken at a magnification of 1000. Since the palynomorphs recovered in most of the few layers studied were scanty it was decided to depart from the conventional practice of constructing a pollen diagram and to present the pollen counts generated in a tabular form instead. Soil texture and colour were determined by reference to a standard with the aid of a petrographic binocular miscroscope and the Munsell soil colour chart, respectively.

105

106

371

387

645

222

392

240

167

178

192

75

26

3

2898

Level (cm)

10-20

20-30

30-40

40-50

50-60

60-70

70-80

80-90

90-100

100-110

110-120

Total

Rim Sherds

318

-

2

4

19

10

39

15

40

43

70

42

34

Undiagnostic Sherds

434

-

4

35

66

34

33

38

-

158

66

-

-

Perforated Sherd

1

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

1

-

3

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

1

Palm Kernel 72

-

-

1

1

4

-

12

-

25

15

5

9

Burnt Kernel 1

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

1

-

-

Snail Shell 175

-

1

2

9

19

45

18

24

14

15

8

20

Bivalve 13

-

-

-

2

9

-

-

-

2

-

-

-

72

-

-

2

6

5

-

34

43

4

11

-

-

-

6

-

-

4

-

-

96

-

-

1

-

-

-

-

-

5

34

9

-

1

82

8 1

Bone*

47

Metal Pieces -

Hearth

1

Slag 5

-

-

1

-

1

1

-

-

-

-

-

2

Lithics

Cowry

63

-

3

-

4+++

3

-

-

-

-

16

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

1

++

5

-

-

-

2

13

1

1

-

-

-

-

1

Tuyères(fragments)

6++

-

5++

25++

7 ++

8***

Charcoal -

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

51

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

1

3

6

-

41+

Plant Seed

Figure 3: General Artefact Inventory – Kajola Ajaba Refuse Mound I, Test Pit 1.

Pot Lid Knob

2

Furnace fragment 4

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

4

-

-

Burnt Clay 18

-

-

-

-

-

-

9

1

8

-

-

-

Charred food (fragments) 7

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

7

-

-

-

Ash Lumps 19

-

-

-

-

19

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

Mica Schist 3

-

-

-

-

2

-

-

-

-

1

-

-

4283

3

36

121

305

281

291

377

462

496

892

482

537

Total

[Key: Charcoal: x = present; Plant Seed: + = ‘Opoto’ (Ficus exasperata); Lithics: *** = Quartz or Granite flakes; ++ = Grinding stones; +++ = Soapstone. Bone*: 1 = 1 phalange, 1 pelvic bone and 6 fragments; 2 = 1 sternum, 1 vertebra bone and 6 fragments; 3 = 1 humerus and 3 fragments]

Body Sherds

0-10

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Results

Archaeology

A rich array of materials was recovered (Figures 3-5)

18 14 4 2 1 2 41

14 7 4 7 4 36

10 13 7 6 2 38

1 6 3 2 2 1 15

16 8 4 11 39

5 1 1 1 8

3 1 4

2 2

8 7 1 3 19

Total

80-90

70-80

60-70

50-60

40-50

30-40

32 13 7 1 1 4 10 1 69

100-110

26 5 1 1 2 35

90-100

Plain Burnished Single Twisted Cord Double Twisted Cord Incision/Excision Groove/ Wavy Groove Twisted Cord/Groove Groove/Twisted Cord Boss/Twisted Cord Wavy Groove/Twisted Cord Excision Wavy Excision Twisted Cord/Punctate Total

20-30

0-10

10-20

Levels

%

The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria

135 74 18 13 8 25 4 8 2 4 11 2 2 306

44.1 24.2 5.9 4.2 2.6 8.2 1.3 2.6 0.7 1.3 3.6 0.7 0.7 100

Figure 4: Distribution of Major Pottery Decorations (Rims)

90-100

100-110

110-120

86 2 80 46

91 1 31

51 13 54 29

100 11 33 12

29 22 4

10 6 4 4

3 -

1088 125 892 371

38.5 4.4 31.6 13.1

4 13

7

13

16

20

21

32

3 14

1 28

19

2

-

8 185

0.3 6.5

-

-

20

23

8

-

-

2

-

-

-

-

53

1.9

-

-

3

-

6

3

2 7

4 1 4

2 5

1 -

-

-

9 1 28

0.3 0.04 1.0

5

-

7

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

12

0.4

10

31

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

41

1.5

1

-

2 1

-

-

-

2 -

3 -

-

-

-

-

7 2

0.2 0.07

-

-

1 1 -

-

-

1 1

-

-

-

-

-

-

1 2 1

0.04 0.07 0.04

371

321

711

222

321

240

1 167

178

192

75

26

3

1 2827

0.04 100

Figure 5: Distribution of Major Pottery Decoration Types (Body) 107

%

70-80

92 9 96 90

Total

60-70

64 12 107 -

80-90

50-60

313 24 248 78

30-40

70 41 112 60

0-10 Decoration Types Plain Burnished Single Twisted Cord Double Twisted Cord Incision/Excision Groove/Wavy Groove Twisted Cord/ Groove Painted Bossing Carved Wooden Roulette-Checked Pattern Wavy Groove/ Twisted Cord Roulette Groove/Twisted Cord Scallops Carved Wooden Roulette-Multiple Design Boss/Twisted Cord Circle Stylus Herring Bone Design Groove/Punctate Total

20-30

179 6 136 17

10-20

40-50

Levels (cm)

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Radiometric Dating

Palynology

Charcoal samples were radiocarbon dated at the University of Washington, Quaternary Isotope Laboratory, using the radiocarbon calibration programme of Stuiver and Reimer (1993).

Thirty-four types of palynomorphs were found. Of this number, 31 were pollen grains while the other three were spores. Twenty-six pollen types were identified, 18 of them to species level and eight to family level. The remaining five could not be identified. Two of the three spores were identified to genus level; the other could not be identified (Figures 6 and 7).

Sample depth (cm.) 40-50

Lab. Reference no. GX-32369

Radiocarbon Age BP

Cal. Age AD

360 ± 60

103

GX-32370

780 ± 80

1448 (1491, 1603, 609) 1637 1191 (1263) 1290

The calibration age ranges are shown, and also (in brackets) the points at which the calibration curve is bisected.

Figure 8 shows the components of the phytoecological groups represented. Other taxa which could not be assigned to any particular group, either because their identification could not be made with certainty to the level of species or on account of the species being ubiquitous, are also listed in order to reflect the full complement of forms encountered. Figure 9 shows the tabulated pollen counts with the components of each layer given as percentages of the pollen sum. Figure 10 gives the details of the lithology. Figure 6: Photomicrographs of palynomorphs (all magnification x1000) 1-3: Pavetta owariensis 4:Amaranthaceae/ Chenopodiaceae 5-6: Alchornea sp. 7: Celtis cf. philippensis 8: Unidentified 9: Hymenocardia acida 10: Asteraceae 11-12: Alternanthera repens 13: Casuarina equisetifolia 14-15: Lagerstroemia indica 16-17: Grewia mollis 18: Poaceae

108

The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria

Figure 7: Photomicrographs of palynomorphs (all magnification x 1000) 1-2: Pterocarpus santalinoides 3: Cyperaceae 4: Elaeis guineensis 5: Delonix regia 6: Asteraceae 7: cf. Pteris sp. 8: Aspilia africana 9: Lagerstroemia indica 10-11:Combretaceae/ Melastomataceae 12: Syzygium guineense 13: Unidentifed 14: Monolete spore 15: Polypodium sp. 16: Morus cf mesozygia

S/N 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 13 14 15 16

Phytoecological group Forest Ferns Forest regrowth Savanna Poaceae Fresh water swamp Weeds Ornamentals

Components cf. Asystasia gangetica, Celtis cf. philippensis, Desplatsia dewevrei, Morus cf. mesozygia, Pavetta owariensis, Pterocarpus santalinoides, Spondias mombin, Triaspis cf. stipulata Pteris sp., Polypodium sp., Monolete fern Elaeis guineensis, Alchornea cf. cordifolia Hymenocardia acida Poaceae Cyperaceae Alternanthera repens, Aspilia africana, Asteraceae cf. Casuarina equisetifolia, Delonix regia, Lagerstroemia indica Amaranthaceae/Chenopodiaceae Apocynaceae Combretaceae/Melastomataceae (Combretum racemosum type) Polygalaceae type Rubiaceae Syzygium guineense cf. Triplochiton scleroxylon

Figure 8: Phytoecological groups and other taxa at Ajaba 109

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Discussion

its pottery. None of the pottery recovered from Ajaba has decorative motifs characteristic of ‘Mejiro’ under which phase Ajaba falls (Figure 5). Furthermore, maize cob roulette, the most common roulette pattern among Yoruba potters (Fatunsin, 1992), is completely absent from Ajaba. The majority of Ajaba pottery was plain, while the next commonest type for the rims and body were burnished and wavy grooves or twisted cord roulette, respectively. Thus, at this juncture, based on pottery typology, Ajaba does not seem to have a strong link with Old Oyo or any other specific Yoruba group for that matter, even though there might have been interactions in the past. Although most of the Igbomina communities claim to have migrated from either Old Oyo or Ile-Ife (Aleru, 2006), the oral tradition about Ajaba makes a very different claim. According to the latter tradition, Ajaba and its environs were under the political hegemony of Ilesa; and the king of Ilesa, Owa Obokun, did not have contact with Old Oyo for a very long time. This oral tradition seems to be supported by evidence from material culture.

Archaeology The pottery assemblage varied from small bowls through medium-sized and large pots to perforated pots. These pots might have been used for cooking, storage of water and food items, or for rituals. The iron slag, hearth, tuyere and furnace fragments are suggestive of iron working and the use of fire. The people probably used iron implements presumably for felling trees and for farming. The pottery has a variety of decoration motifs: the commonest are burnished, groove/wavy groove and single twisted cord, while plain ones are also common (Figure 5). There was an attempt to ascertain the relationships between the Ajaba and other Yoruba groups using pottery affinity as a criterion. This is because interactions and migrations among the Yoruba groups may be ascertained through a study of their respective pottery. The Old Oyo pottery is used as a reference in considering pottery from other Yoruba groups or sub-groups, although this usage is still controversial. Willett (1961) classified the Old Oyo pottery into two phases, namely the ‘Diogun’ and ‘Mejiro’ phases. Based on his work at Old Oyo, Soper (1975) considered ‘Diogun’ and ‘Mejiro’ as representing the early and late phases of ceramic types, respectively, based on their decorations. While ‘Diogun’ pottery (dating to AD 1100 ± 110yrs) is characterised by brush or broommade incisions, impressed arcs (scallops), knotted and frond roulette, ‘Mejiro’ (dating to AD 1300 ± 80yrs) is characterised by carved roulette, snail shell markings and maize cob roulette (Usman, 2003). Any settlement which had had close interactions with Old Oyo is expected to have an appreciable number of these decorative motifs in Palynomorphs/Depth Forest Ferns Elaeis guineensis Alchornea sp. Savanna Poaceae Cyperaceae Weeds Lagerstroemia indica Casuarina equisetifolia Delonix regia Amaranth/Chenopod Apocynaceae Combret/Melastom Polygalaceae type Rubiaceae Syzygium guineense Triplochiton type Unidentified Total Pollen count (in 40 µl) Absolute pollen count (per gram of subsample)

The presence of some iron slags and some fragments of tuyeres and furnace does suggest iron-working. However there are no extant traditional or ethnographic accounts to support an iron-working tradition in the area. A more extensive archaeological reconnaissance is required in order to ascertain more definitely whether there indeed was iron-working in the area. Palynology (Figure 9) The lowest layer analysed (98cm) had a preponderance of the pollen grains of the exotic, ornamental, multistemmed tree, Lagerstroemia indica (Figs 6: 14-15, 7:9). They constituted 79.5% of the pollen sum. This tree

98cm1 12.8 10.2 20.5 23.0 0.0 12.8 0.0 2.5 [79.5] 0.0 5.0 2.5 0.0 2.5 2.5 2.5 0.0 2.5 0.0 39 [190] 2 488 [2375] 2

76cm 3.1 18.8 9.4 15.6 0.0 21.9 0.0 0.0 0.0 6.3 3.1 6.3 0.0 6.3 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 9.4 32 400

51cm 9.7 9.7 22.6 9.7 0.0 12.9 3.2 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 6.5 0.0 0.0 19.3 0.0 0.0 0.0 6.5 31 233

34cm 27.8 16.7 5.6 16.7 0.0 16.7 5.6 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 5.6 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 5.6 0.0 0.0 18 90

20cm 9.1 36.4 0.0 0.0 9.1 27.3 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 9.1 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 9.1 0.0 0.0 11 83

Figure 9: Ajaba pollen counts [figures are percentages of pollen sums]. [98cm1 excluding Lagerstroemia indica]; [190]2 and [2375]2 including Lagerstroemia indica. 110

11cm 7.1 50.0 16.1 3.6 0.0 7.1 0.0 8.9 0.0 0.0 0.0 1.8 3.6 1.8 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 56 280

The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria Depth (cm) 11-18 18-31 31-81 81-111

Soil texture Sandy silt (with rootlets) Gritty sandy silt (with rootlets) Moist Clay Moist Clay

Colour Dark grey Reddish brown Reddish brown Yellowish brown

Munsell chart no. 5YR 3/1 5YR 4/3 5YR 4/3 5YR 4/6

Figure 10: Ajaba lithology.

produces abundant inflorescences of showy, pink, purple or white flowers. On account of this and of the presence of wart-like processes (verrucae) on the outermost wall of the pollen grains, the pollen is most probably insectdispersed. The copious amount of pollen recovered suggests that the flowers were brought into the site, as the pollen is very unlikely to have been wind-dispersed in such a large quantity. Trace amounts of the pollen of another exotic ornamental, Delonix regia (5.0% of the pollen sum), occurred along with those of Lagerstroemia indica. Delonix regia is commonly called the flamboyant tree or flame of the forest on account of its bright, orangered and showy flowers. The flowers are insect-pollinated; the pollen grains are distinctive (Fig. 7:5), and fairly large (P: 58.3; E: 39µm). In the next level studied (76 cm.) there occurred trace amounts of both Delonix regia and of what look very much like the pollen of yet another exotic ornamental, Casuarina equisetifolia, constituting 3.1% and 6.3% of the pollen sum, respectively. The significance of the occurrence of the pollen of these three exotic trees will be discussed later. The indigenous vegetation as indicated in the lowest level comprised both primary and secondary forest species, constituting 12.8% and 43.5% of the pollen sum, respectively. The former was represented by Desplatsia dewevrei, an understorey tree, Triaspis cf. stipulata, a woody climber, Celtis cf. philippensis, an evergreen, understorey tree, and cf. Asystasia gangetica, “an erect herb in swampy areas of rain forest” (Hutchinson and Dalziel, 1968: 413). Secondary forest was represented by Elaeis guineensis and Alchornea sp.; in addition grasses were 12.8%. Ferns constituted 10.2%. The flowers of A. gangetica are known to be insectpollinated. The leaves of this plant are said to be used widely in Nigeria in the treatment of asthma, and their antiasthmatic properties have been confirmed scientifically (Akah et al., 2003). The recovery of the pollen of this species, constituting 2.5% of the pollen sum, is noteworthy. Could the people of Ajaba have known of the medicinal properties of these leaves and brought them home from the forest? And did some pollen grains adhere to these leaves and subsequently become embedded in the mound deposit? An ethnobotanic study in the area might provide answers to these questions, which hint at possibilities. At 76cm. there was an indication of a further partial opening up of the primary forest as reflected by decreases in trees and woody climbers along with a marked relative increase in grasses (from 12.8% to 21.9%). The reduction in primary

forest species however did not affect ferns as their spores became more abundant (10.2% to 18.8%). By the level of 51cm primary forest had begun to increase, reaching a peak (27.8%) at 34 cm, but this was followed in the two subsequent layers (i.e. the topmost layers) studied, by a more notable reduction to 9.1% and 7.1% respectively. These decreases were accompanied by significant increases in grasses (to a peak of 27.3%) and later in the oil palm. The latter soared to 16.1% after preceding fluctuations. These changes are indicative of the existence of a forest more open than previously. It is striking to note that fern spores became quite abundant reaching a peak of 50%. An increase in fern spores is known to be indicative of a wet environment (Morley, 1995). Such an environment would have been very conducive for forest growth but the contrast was recorded here. The occurrence of the pollen of Pterocarpus santalinoides, a riverine forest species, further indicates that the climate was not dry. Consequently, it seems that human action most probably contributed to this second and more extensive decrease in the forest vegetation. The palynologically-based inference made above regarding the impact of humans is reinforced by archaeological evidence. Archaeological materials recovered were most abundant in these two topmost layers, especially levels 20-30cm. There was an increase in palm kernel from the previous twelve at 50-60cm to 40 at 20-40cm. These developments are regarded as an indication of increased human activity. Furthermore, though charcoal occurred in all the levels it was during this interval that the only burnt kernel was recovered (Figure 3). There was also an increased presence of hearth -- an indication of the use of fires for cooking or other domestic activities. The occurrence of burnt clay, a furnace and charred food fragments constitutes yet another evidence of the use of fire. It is evident that there would have been an increased need for sources of fuel, and trees or woody climbers would have been good sources. The felling of trees and the cutting of lianas for fuel most probably accounted for the reduction in the pollen of woody, forest species. Thus human impact on the forest vegetation became more pronounced during this period. The inference made above is vividly demonstrated by a graph in which the abundance of forest trees is compared with that of pottery (Figure 11). An increase in pottery is here regarded as an index of population increase and/ or intensified human activity. There was a sharp drop in forest elements between 30 and 20cm, clearly coincident 111

Pottery (human population) vs Tree resources

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

900 800 700 600 500

Series1

400 300

Series2

200 100 0 100-90cm

80-70cm

60-50cm

40-30cm

30-20cm

20-10cm

Depth of Test Pit

Figure 11: A comparison of abundance of forest species with pottery abundance (an index of human population). Percentage values for forest species (range of 8.8%-38.1%) were multiplied by 10 for ease of comparison with pottery figures which are in the range of 114-781. Series 1= % forest species, Series 2 = pottery. Y axis = pottery abundance and % forest trees, X axis = depths. with a phenomenal rise in pottery. That was the period when human impact on the forest became significant. Both palynological and archaeological evidence indicate this phenomenon. Palynological research in the Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, University of Ibadan, has shown that in southern Nigeria humans created conditions which enhanced the proliferation of the oil palm, an important component of the subsistence economy during the second phase of the Late Stone Age in this region (Sowunmi 1981b, 1985; Oyelaran, 1998). The human action entailed the creation of gaps in the forest for the cultivation of crops other than the oil palm itself, using the slash-and-burn farming technique. Though the oil palm itself was not likely to have been cultivated, it most probably was selectively protected. Sowunmi (1999, 205) went further to postulate that in certain sediments deposited in the last 3,000 years or so, appreciable increases in the pollen of Elaeis guineensis constitute a very good indicator of anthropogenic forest disturbance or ‘an index of “palaeo-cultivation” in west and west central Africa…’. In the same vein, Zeven (1964, 123) had noted that in modern sediments the occurrence of oil palm pollen, which can be up to 30% of the total, “reflects the cultivation of the oil palm as well as methods of land use favourable to its spread.” (Emphasis by present authors). Indeed in the surface sample from the Niger delta the oil palm pollen was 38.7% of the pollen sum (Sowunmi 1981b, 1985). Results from Ajaba, as discussed both from the archaeological and palynological perspectives here, are but another confirmation of Sowunmi’s (1981b, 1985) postulation. Ornamentals in palaeoecological studies Ornamentals are plants considered to be of aesthetic value to humans. As a result, humans deliberately cultivate, nurture and protect them in areas close to the home or the immediate surrounding of a home, in order to enjoy their

beauty. Thus they reflect human appreciation of the beauty of plants. It therefore follows that the correct identification of their pollen and spores in an archaeological context such as in the present study, can provide useful insight into an aspect of human behaviour in the past. In Nigeria there are both exotic and indigenous ornamental plants. The recovery of micro- and macro fossils of exotic plants in certain areas has proved very useful in shedding light on the history of food production and of horticulture, for example. In this regard, the recovery and identification of the pollen grains of the maize, Zea mays, have helped in establishing the beginning of food production (agriculture) in certain areas of South America (Piperno et al. 1991). The correct identification of Casuarina pollen proved useful in elucidating the introduction of exotic species and the antiquity of humans in South East Asia (Haberle, 1994). In the present study, the pollen of two, woody, exotic, ornamental species, i.e. Lagerstroemia indica (Lythraceae) and Delonix regia (Caesalpiniaceae), were first recovered from the lowest level studied. This level (98cm) presumably was laid down a short period after cal. AD 1263, the date obtained for the layer at 103 cm. The pollen of perhaps a third arboreal and exotic ornamental, Casuarina equisetifolia (Casuarinaceae), was found first at 76cm. The recovery of the fossil pollen of these plants becomes the earliest and first palynological evidence of the presence of exotic ornamentals in Nigeria. Some intriguing questions arise from the presence and the pattern of occurrence of the three exotic ornamentals. According to Hutchinson and Dalziel (1954), L. indica is a native of Asia, and an ornamental commonly cultivated throughout West Africa today. We (A.E.O. and M.A.S.) are familiar with its copious and beautiful inflorescences, which make it a desirable garden plant. Burkill (1995) is more precise about the origin of this species. Even though 112

The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria its specific name suggests an Indian source, Burkill (1995) says it is a native of China, introduced to West Africa. The fossil record of Lagerstroemia goes back to the Tertiary. Fossil leaves of Lagerstroemia have been described from India and the Oligocene of Japan (Pigg and DeVore, 2005). Fossil fruits recovered from the Pleistocene of Japan and found to be similar to those of the extant L. indica of central China, have been assigned to that Chinese species (Pigg and DeVore, 2005). Fossil pollen of Lagerstroemia was reported from Pleistocene deposits of Japan, but it was not stated if it was that of L. indica or L. speciosa (Miyoshi et al., 1999 and Fujiki et al., 2001 in Pigg and DeVore, 2005). The pollen of L. indica is medium in size (P: 33.5; E: 35.00µm), spheroidal and tricolporate; ora conspicuous and clear in polar view; exine is thick and with a distinctly verrucate pattern. (Figure 6, 14-15). In our opinion, our fossil pollen is L. indica. Modern pollen of L. speciosa, though similar in size (P: 33.75; E: 35µm), has a thinner and comparatively less distinctly verrucate exine pattern. The modern pollen of L. tomentosa (P: 35; E: 3 7.5µm) is somewhat prolate-like in equatorial view. Based on the fossil records of Lagerstroemia its Asian origin – India and Japan in particular – cannot be disputed. Delonix regia rightly is “considered one of the most beautiful trees in the world … (it) blooms in dense clusters and bursts into scarlet orange blossoms.” (Tropilab Inc., n.d). Its flamboyance makes it a popular ornamental tree in Nigeria. There is agreement on its Malagasy origin (cf. Hutchinson and Dalziel, 1958, 481). According to Wikipedia (2010) Casuarina equisetifolia is native to Australasia, i.e. Australia, southeast Asia, and islands of the western Pacific ocean. It is interesting to note that this entry adds: “It is possibly native to Madagacar.” Although primarily “planted to prevent erosion in sandy soils” (several rows of Casuarina trees once lined the beach in Lagos in the 1940s, but gradually succumbed to the waves of the Atlantic Ocean and are now all buried under the sea !), they are also cultivated, not on account of their flowers but because of their tall and stately habit. The pendent inflorescences are small and dull brown in colour. This tree is less widely cultivated than the other two in Nigeria today. Its pollen is most likely to be winddispersed. The pollen grains are not as distinctive as are those of Lagerstroemia indica and Delonix regia, but the fossil specimens recovered here are comparable; nevertheless the prefix “cf.” indicates that we cannot be as categorical as we are with the other two. Hence we shall focus attention more on those two. If our identification of L. indica and D. regia pollen is correct, as we have reasonable cause to believe it is, then at least two questions arise. The first intriguing question that arises is this: How did these two exotics reach West Africa, and southwestern Nigeria in particular, some time soon after cal. AD 1263? From the fossil records reiterated earlier here and from various relevant literatures, Lagerstroemia indica is Asian

in origin. Burkill (1995) believes that Lagerstroemia was introduced into West Africa via Arabic trade routes or from North Africa through the Sahara. He is more specific about the West African occurrence of another exotic member of the Lythraceae, Lawsonia inermis (henna). According to him (Burkill 1995, 562) henna was “known in the Sahel area of West Africa as early as AD 1067”. It “has been widely disseminated over Asia and Africa through Islam” (Burkill 1995, 563). According to Mogaji (2009, 162) the Arabic presence in Nigeria might date back to the eighth and ninth centuries AD. He states that Borno, in presentday north-eastern Nigeria, “maintained strong contact with Arabic culture and civilization” as early as the eighth century, while the Arabic language was known in other parts of northern Nigeria, such as Katsina and Kano, between the eighth and ninth centuries. This would seem to contradict a submission to the effect that, even though Arabic trade connections with sub-Saharan Africa go back to the ninth century AD, there does not seem to be a record of Arabic influence in Nigeria (mainly religious and literary) until the middle of the 17th century in the north and about 200 years later in the south (cf. Hunwick, 2006). Mogaji’s account (2009) implies that this comparatively more recent date may represent a second wave of Arabic presence in Nigeria. Hence, it is possible that Lawsonia inermis and perhaps Lagerstroemia got into Nigeria through a northern, overland, Arabic route, probably some time between the ninth and seventeenth centuries AD. Delonix regia is of Malagasy origin, but there is no mention made in the available literature as to how it got to West Africa, where it is widely cultivated today. Through what other route could Lagerstroemia have reached southern Nigeria by the thirteenth century, a date indicated in this study? Could both Lagerstroemia and Delonix regia have been introduced directly by Asians through a southern, ocean route? According to a hypothesis by Dick-Read (2005) Indonesians, whom he refers to as “phantom voyagers”, probably sailed to subSaharan Africa (including Nigeria) and Madagascar over a thousand years ago. These “Indonesian sailors of some sort” (Dick-Read 2005, 95) could have sailed across the Indian Ocean in the first millennium AD to the Eastern African coast and Madagascar, then round the Cape of Good Hope and through the Atlantic to the Gulf of Guinea in West Africa. It probably was by this sea route that Asiatic food crops such as yams, plantains and bananas were brought to West Africa (Dick-Read, 2005). Though this hypothesis is still controversial, none of its critics (e.g. Oliver 2005, Ellis 2005) have dismissed it outright, and it has been described as a “challenge” which cannot be ignored. There is certainly a need for more concrete evidence in favour of the hypothesis, and we believe that more archaeological and palaeobotanical work in West Africa, especially southern Nigeria, might provide some of such evidence. The second question is: Why were the pollen grains of these two ornamentals confined to only the lowest levels? The evidence for the presence of these pollen 113

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives grains at these levels is, to us, irrefutable, in view of the fact that soil samples were collected from the base of the trench upwards. Furthermore there was no evidence of stratigraphic disturbance in the wall from which these samples were taken. In addition, as shown in Figure 10, rootlets penetrated only as far down as 31cm. As pointed out earlier, flowers of Lagerstroemia indica were probably brought into the site. But what for? This remains a question. In the case of Delonix regia the one and two pollen grains recovered probably were remnants of what stuck to the pod of the tree, which could have been brought home by the inhabitants of Ajaba. The dried pods of Delonix regia are used in making fire; furthermore these dried pods are called sheke-sheke in Yoruba. Sheke-sheke is a name given to objects which, when shaken, make rattling sounds, thus they are used as a play object by children. At the moment, we are unable to find an explanation as to why the two pollen types did not occur in the upper layers. Though we do not consider it likely, we cannot rule out entirely the possibility that the two pollen types might belong to indigenous, forest species which we have not yet encountered in our palynological study. As exemplified in the Combretaceae and Melastomataceae on the one hand and Chenopodiaceae and Amaranthaceae on the other, it is well known that certain species which belong to different families do have similar, virtually indistinguishable pollen grains. Pollen grains from these families when encountered in the fossil record are referred to simply as Combretaceae/ Melastomataceae and Chenopodiaceae/Amaranthaceae, respectively. Conclusion Based on pottery typology, Ajaba does not seem to have a strong link with Old Oyo or any other specific Yoruba group. The result of the pollen analysis shows that not long after about AD 1263 the exotic ornamental, Lagerstroemia indica, was predominant in the pollen assemblage in the trench. There were traces of another exotic ornamental, Delonix regia. There could also have been a third exotic, Casuarina equisetifolia along with these two. This might be the first botanical evidence of exotic ornamentals from an archaeological site in Nigeria. Though Lagerstroemia indica might have been introduced to Nigeria by Arabs through a northern land route, one should not rule out the possibility that, based on a hypothesis by Dick-Read (2005), both Lagerstroemia indica and Delonix regia could have been introduced by Indonesian sailors through a direct sea route. For reasons which are as yet unclear these ornamentals were recovered only from the lowest levels. There remains the likelihood that these two pollen forms are those of indigenous forest species, not yet known to us, and from which they are indistinguishable. There was an initial, partial reduction of primary forest vegetation. A second and more extensive reduction followed. This later reduction in forest, concomitantly with notable increases in some early colonisers of disturbed forests, especially Elaeis guineensis along with grasses, can be attributed to increased human activity,

including the probable use of fire, presumably preparatory to slash-and-burn farming. This period coincided with the climax of human occupation and/or activity, as indicated by increased abundance of artefacts, especially pottery as well as the occurrence of burnt palm kernel, burnt clay, furnace fragments and tuyeres. Thus both palynological and archaeological evidence complete each other in indicating a significant impact of the Ajaba people on their environment and the intensified use of fire some time after cal. AD 1491. It is envisaged that further palynological investigations will be conducted at the site with a view to clarifying some of the unresolved issues. Acknowledgements Immense thanks are due to Dr Joyce Lowe for her very useful comments on the taxonomic aspect of this work. Thanks go to Dr Patrick Darling for recommending DickRead’s book (2005) to one of us (M.A.S.) in a private discussion she had with him, following the presentation of this paper at the Sheffield conference. M.A.S. subsequently read a copy of the book, and she had a useful email correspondence with Dick-Read, whom we thank for his comments. We thank Dr P. Allsworth-Jones for forwarding to us copies of the reviews by Roland Oliver and Stephen Ellis. References Akah, P.A., Ezike, A. C., Nwafor, S. V., Okoli, C. O., and Enwerem, N. M. 2003. Evaluation of the anti-asthmatic property of Asystasia gangetica leaf extracts. Journal of Ethnopharmacology 89 (1), 25-36. Accessed on the internet: linkinghub.elsevier.com/S037887410302277. Alabi R. A. 1999. Human-environment relationship: A synthesis of ethnoarchaeological evidence of human impact on the environment of the Badagry coastal area of southwestern Nigeria. Journal of Science Research 5 (1), 25-31. Aleru, J. O. 2006. Old Oyo and the Hinterland: History and Culture in Northern Yorubaland. Ibadan, Textflow. Allsworth-Jones, P. 1991. Kariya Wuro rock shelter, Bauchi State: recent results. West African Journal of Archaeology 21, 202-207. Bryant V. M. 1974. Prehistoric diet in southwest Texas: The coprolite evidence. American Antiquity. 39 (3), 407-420. Bryant V. M. and Holloway R. G. 1996. Archaeological palynology, in J. Jansonius and D. C. McGregor (eds), Palynology: principles and applications. American Association of Stratigraphic Palynologists Foundation 3, 913-917. Burkill, H.M. 1995. The Useful Plants of West Tropical Africa, 2nd Edition, Vol. 3, families J-L. Kew, England, The Royal Botanic Gardens.   Dick-Read, R. 2005. The Phantom Voyagers: Evidence of Indonesian settlement in Africa in ancient times. Winchester, England, Thurlton Publishing. Duffin K. I. 2008. The representation of rainfall and fire

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The archaeology and palynology of Ajaba, a late iron-age settlement in north-east Yoruba land, Nigeria intensity in fossil pollen and charcoal records from a South African savanna. Review of Palaeobotany and palynology 2008, Accessed on the internet: doi:10.1016/j.revpalbo.2008.02.004 Ellis, S. 2005. Review of “The Phantom Voyagers”. African Affairs 104 (417), 706-709. Faegri, K. and Iversen, J. 1989. Textbook of Pollen Analysis. Denmark, John Wiley and Sons Ltd. Fatunsin, A. K. 1992.  Yoruba Pottery. Lagos: National Commission for Museum and Monuments. Haberle S. 1994. Anthropogenic indicators in pollen diagrams: Problems and prospects for Late Quaternary palynology in New Guinea. In Hather J. G. (ed.) Tropical Archaeobotany. Applications and new developments, 172-201. London, Routledge. Hunwick, J.O. 2006. West Africa, Islam, and the Arab world: essays in honour of Basil Davidson.Accessed on internet: books.google.co.uk/books?isbn=1558763996…, New Jersey, Markus Wiener Publishers. Hutchinson J. and Dalziel J. M. 1954 – 1972. Flora of West Tropical Africa Vol. I, Parts 1 and 2 (Second edition, revised by R.W.J. Keay); Vols. II and III, Parts 1 and 2 (Second edition, edited by F.N. Hepper), London, Crown Agents for Overseas Governments and Administrations. Jensen C. 2004. The vegetation history of a coastal stone-age and Iron Age settlement at 70°N, Norway. Vegetation History and Archaeobotany 13, 269-284. Keay R.W.J. 1959. An Outline of Nigerian vegetation. Lagos, Nigeria, Federal Government of Nigeria. Kirch V. P. 1996. Late Holocene Human-induced Modifications to a Central Polynesian Island Ecosystem. Proceedings National Academy of Science USA 93, 5296-5300. Mogaji, Tijani Akinola, 2009. Arabic and the SocioCultural Development of Nigeria: An Assessment. LASU Journal of Humanities 6, 160-176 (accessed on the internet at http://artslasu.org/human/vol6/tijani. pdf) Morley, R. J. 1995. Biostratigraphic Characterization of Systems Tracts in Tertiary Sedimantary Basins. Proceedings of the International Symposium on Sequence Stratigraphy in SE Asia, 49-71. Ogunfolakan A. 1994. Historical Archaeology of Northeast Osun. Unpublished M.Sc. Research project, Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, University of Ibadan. Oyelaran, P.A. 1998. Early settlement and Archaeological Sequence of Northeast Yorubaland. African Archaeological Review 15 (1), 65-79. Pigg K. B. and DeVore M. L. 2005. Shirleya grahamae gen. et sp. nov. (Lythraceae), Lagerstroemia-like fruits

from the middle Miocene Yakima canyon flora, central Washington State, USA. American Journal of Botany 92, 242-251. Oliver, R. 2005. On xylophone. Review of “The Phantom Voyagers: Evidence of Indonesian Settlement”. The Times Literary Supplement, December 9 2005. Piperno, D. R., Bush, M. B. and Colinvaux, P. A. 1991. Palaeoenvironments and Human Occupation in LateGlacial Panama. Quaternary Research 33, 108-116. Soper, R. C. 1975.  Archaeological Work at Old-Oyo. Unpublished Report, Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, University of Ibadan. Sowunmi, M. A. 1976. The potential value of honey in palaeopalynology and archaeology. Review of Palaeobotany and Palynology 21, 171 - 185. Sowunmi M. A. 1981a. The late Quaternary environmental changes in Nigeria. Pollen et Spores 23 (1), 125-148. Sowunmi M. A. 1981b. Aspects of late Quaternary vegetational changes in West Africa. Journal of Biogeography 8, 457-474. Sowunmi, M. A. 1985. The beginnings of agriculture in West Africa: botanical evidence. Current Anthropology 26 (1), 127 - 129. Sowunmi, M. A. 1999. The significance of the oil palm (Elaeis guineensis Jacq.) in the Late Holocene environments of west and west central Africa: a reconsideration. Vegetational History and Archaeobotany 8 (3), 199-210. Sowunmi, M. A. 2004. Aspects of Nigerian coastal vegetation in the Holocene: some recent insights, in R. W. Battarbee, F. Gasse, and C. E. Stickley (eds), Past Climate Variability through Europe and Africa, 199 – 218, Dordrecht, the Netherlands, Kluwer Academic Publishers. Sowunmi, M. A., and Awosina, E. O. 1991. Pollen analysis of Kariya Wuro rock shelter, Bauchi State. Nigerian Field 56, 163-170. Stuiver, M. and Reimer, P.J. 1993. Radiocarbon calibration program. Rev. 4.1.2. Radiocarbon, 35, 215-230. Tropilab Inc. n.d. “Delonix regia – royal Poinciana.” Tropilab.com/delonix-reg.html Usman, A. (2003).  Ceramic Seriation, Sites Chronology, and Old Oyo Factor in Northcentral Yorubaland, Nigeria.   African Archaeolological Review 20 (3), 149-169. Wikipedia 2010. Casuarina equisetifolia en.wikipedia. org/wiki/Casuarina_equisetifolia. Willett, F. 1961.   Investigations at Old Oyo, 1956-57: An Interim Report. Journal of the Historical Society of Nigeria 2 (1), 59-77 Zeven A.C. 1964. On the origin of the oil palm (Elaeis guineensis Jacq.). Grana Palynol. 5, 121-123

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The Stone Arm Ring and Related Polished Stone Industries of Hombori (Mali) K.C. MacDonald

The Institute of Archaeology, University College London, 31-34 Gordon Square London WC1H 0PY [email protected]

Abstract The manufacture of polished stone arm rings and other allied polished stone industries has been documented in the West African Sahara and Sahel since the beginning of the colonial era. The degree to which these industries represent persistent Néolithique/ Late Stone Age (LSA) traditions, or historic re-inventions of such polished stone technology has received little scholarly attention, and their manufacturing processes have received uneven study. This paper attempts to address these issues via the tradition of Hombori (Mali), which was documented by the author in 1993. The post-LSA Sahelian distributions of both polished stone bracelets and ‘Hombori marble’ as a raw material are considered in order to better define the parameters of this tradition’s history. Keywords: Polished stone bracelets, Hombori, ethnoarchaeology

Introduction The existence of a modern continuation or re-invention of the prehistoric polished stone industries of the West African Sahara and Sahel has a long and persistent attestation in ethnographic literature (Desplagnes 1907, de Zeltner 1912, Lhote 1950, Dudot 1969, Nicolaisen and Nicolaisen 1997). A great deal of attention has been paid to the manufacture of stone arm rings by Tuareg craftsmen in the Aïr mountains of Niger, but comparatively little detailed mention has been made of an allied tradition from the Malian village of Hombori (Figure 1: Map). In 1992 the author learned of the persistence of the Hombori tradition - briefly documented by Desplagnes (1907) and Lhote (1950) - through a Songhai merchant, Sorywan Maiga of Hombori. He had begun to sell these stone rings in Bamako for the first time when Hombori was isolated from tourism during the Tuareg rebellion in 1991. During fieldwork in Douentza in 1993, I took a break from excavations and accompanied Sorywan to Hombori to learn of their manufacture at first hand. The results of this work initially formed a portion of a chapter in my doctoral thesis (MacDonald 1994). However, a recent internet publication on an allied stone ring industry in Djaël (near Hombori; Carmagnani and Pailler 2009) has made it evident that the precious information and photos of this rapidly disappearing industry which I collected in 1993 can be usefully expanded upon and made available to a wider audience. At the time of my research visit only two individuals living in Hombori were still capable of manufacturing these objects. Both were over 75 years of age in 1993. It is with Mammadou Sallya, the elder of these two individuals with whom I passed my time. Although he did not know his precise birth date, Sallya believed that he was born a year or two before the First World War. His livelihood since adolescence has been the manufacture of polished stone

objects, a trade he learned from his father, who had learnt it from his father. Thus, this is a local tradition extending back in time to before the colonial era. He was then without an apprentice, and he explained that this was because the work involves a great deal of abuse to the hands and “the lazy youths of these easy times have no patience to endure it”. Our interviews of March 1993 were undertaken with Sorywan Maiga acting as an interpreter. I understand that Mammadou Sallya is now deceased and that active stone bracelet manufacture has come to an end in the town of Hombori, although it continues in some outlying localities. Hombori Marble: The Raw Material The stone arm rings of Hombori, unlike those of the Aïr (de Zeltner 1912, Dudot 1969) are not manufactured entirely with iron tools, but also with stone ones. This is probably because the rock used for Hombori bracelets and amulets is much more durable than that of the Aïr, which can, in fact, be cut with a knife (Dudot 1969) and is described as being workable in a manner similar to ‘hardwood’ (Göttler 1989:281). Indeed, regarding the Aïr stone rings Nicolaisen and Nicolaisen (1997: 313) state, These rings are sometimes mentioned in the literature as a weapon, and [are] also claimed to be so by the Kel Tahabanat, but they do not make good weapons owing to their fragility. Most arm rings are made from soft stone such as serpentine… This is certainly not the case of the Hombori stone, termed ‘Hombori Marble’, which is both very hard and durable. Rings made of it are without doubt capable of employment as a weapon. This variability in the quality of stone used for such bracelets may in part explain the difficulty Lhote (1950) had in believing Tuareg claims that these bracelets were used in fighting. Lhote (ibid. 473-4) related that his own Saharan example was crushed into three fragments merely due to pressure between his arm and a large sack

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Figure 1. Map showing the location of Hombori and other localities mentioned in the text. of dates he was lifting. Such an easy breakage would not be possible with Hombori marble. I witnessed the grim effectiveness of such items myself while staying in Nampala during 1989. As a result of a market dispute a Peul woman backhanded her opponent with a bronze bracelet, striking her forcefully and fatally in the forehead. Hombori marble examples of a comparable size and weight would be similarly potent. The distinctive marble of Hombori is a metamorphosed (dolomitic) limestone, black or red-brown in colour and laced with white veins of quartz. Its local presence is no doubt linked to ancient volcanic activity in the region, as marbles normally form in the vicinity of igneous intrusions; the fabled ‘main de Fatima’ rock formation near Hombori being but one result. The process of manufacture at Hombori begins with an expedition, usually on foot, to a small mining locality at Dimam, some 30km to the north-west. The small mine exploited by the craftsmen of Hombori was entirely dug by hand, using metal picks, and consisted of a shaft three metres deep at the base of a fossil, terminal Pleistocene, dune. The shaft has been in existence for at least a hundred years, and it is believed that it and

several other abandoned shafts near it have in fact an even greater antiquity. Interestingly, Desplagnes (1907, Fig. 27) provides a photo of the exploitation of a marble quarry and the manufacture of bracelets at Belia, less than 20km north of Hombori (Figure 2). This locality was not mentioned by our informants. It is possible Delafosse was mistaken in the attribution of this photo’s location to Belia. Alternatively, the Belia source may be off limits to the modern inhabitants of Hombori for local political or other reasons. Carmagnani and Pellier (2009) list three quarry sites which occur within a few kilometres of one another as being exploited by the current craftsmen of Djaël: 1) Beligousso, 2) Dimam Berri (presumably the same site used by the craftsmen of Hombori) which is the only locality that offers the red-brown marble variety, and 3) Nokema, where stone outcrops directly on the surface and the black marble preferred by the Tuareg can be found in abundance. The stone at Dimam was mined at the site with a hammer and an iron spike chisel, with small disk-shaped blanks being roughly shaped for portage back to Hombori (Figure 3). It is worth mentioning that in Lhote’s (1950: 464) paragraph-long description of the Hombori industry, as observed in the 1940s, he notes the use of a hammer and a

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The Stone Arm Ring and Related Polished Stone Industries of Hombori (Mali)

Figure 2. Exploitation of a Deposit of ‘Hombori Marble’ at Belia in the early 1900s (reproduced from Desplagnes 1906, Figure 27).

Figure 3. Mammadou Sallya holding a blank as transported from the mines at Dimam. His tools are arrayed around him. Clockwise from lower left: sandstone polishing baton, hammer, iron spikes, sandstone blade and another marble blank. (photo KC MacDonald)

‘burin’ (presumably of stone?) in the mining process. Once back in Hombori, the manufacturing process proceeds, as we shall see in the following section. The Stone Bracelet Manufacturing Process in 1993 Given the changing nature of the Hombori stone industry, it is important to stress that our documentation is merely one frame in time for a tradition which stretches over more than a century. Over the course of a few days we traced the manufacture of a single group of items from raw material blanks to completed products. Work took place either at Mammadou Sallya’s domestic workshop, or in an area of stone grinding basins atop the Hombori escarpment. The sequence of manufacturing events was as follows: 1) The centre of the disk blank is chipped at with an iron hammer and ‘point’ (a small pointed iron chisel of local manufacture) until it is gradually pierced at its very centre (Figure 4). The hole is then gradually enlarged using the same method. Surprisingly few rings are broken during manufacture, however, such casualities as there are, are said to most frequently occur during this stage. 2) After arriving at a perforation of nearly full size by hammer and chisel, the perforation is gradually enlarged and smoothed through the polishing of the interior with a

sandstone ‘baton’. This baton is a rather informal sandstone rod of local manufacture. It is subsequently used to smooth and shape the outer portions of the bracelet as well. 3) After initial coarse shaping by abrasion with the sandstone ‘baton,’ a paste of sandy soil and water is applied to the ‘baton’ to aid in the finer polishing of the stone ring and the wearing down of the sharp edges of the grossest flake scars (Figure 5). 4) For ‘Tamelsheq style’ bracelets (see Figure 8, Type C) a ridge must be cut. For this a large sandstone blade is used in conjunction with the abrasive paste to define the necessary angles at the margins of the ring (Figure 6). 5) After the basic form of the bracelet is achieved and sharp margins are removed from all the flake scars, Sallya ascends the Hombori escarpment for the penultimate polishing stage. This takes place in broad ovoid-shaped grinding basins which have been worn into the sandstone boulders of the escarpment. The remaining unevenness of flake scars are worn away and margins rounded by

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Figure 4. Perforation of the central portion of a blank with hammer and spike/ chisel (photo KC MacDonald).

Figure 5. Polishing of rough finished piece with homemade wetted and gritted sandstone baton (photo KC MacDonald).

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Figure 6. Sandstone blade (single platform blade with two dorsal removals) used to shape keel of Type C bracelets (photo KC MacDonald).

Figure 7. Rough polishing of stone ring in grinding basin atop the Hombori escarpment (photo KC MacDonald).

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives polishing on the smooth slopes of the grinding basins (Figure 7). 6) After returning to the workshop on the plain, the final interior and exterior polishing is performed, once again using the sandstone ‘baton’ and the sand abrasive paste. 7) The complete stone ring is then washed and left to dry. 8) Before selling or trading the bracelets a grease composed of cattle or sheep fat (as available) is applied and polished to bring out the natural lustre of the stone. It should be noted that at no point are the Hombori bracelets ‘fired’ as is the case for the historic Tuareg Saharan stone ring industries in order to uniformly blacken them (cf. Göttler 1989). Such a process was unknown in Hombori, although Göttler (ibid. 281) suggests that the Tuareg sometimes fire Hombori examples after purchase. The Typology and Use of Hombori Polished Stone Items Sallya told us that he manufactures three primary forms of stone bracelet, and he made examples of each of these for us (Figure 8). The first of these has a rounded to triangular cross section and is relatively narrow (Type A) and is associated by him with the Mossi. He stated that in the time of his father, just before and early in the colonial era, members of his family would travel south to trade them to the Mossi who preferred this form. The second form, with a wedge shaped cross section, is relatively broad and flat (Type B). In Sallya’s lifetime it frequently traded to Peul and Tamelsheq pastoralists. Finally, there is the more ornate form with a very narrow ring and a central sharpened keel (Type C). This is said to be used by both the Tamelsheq and Peul, it can serve as a weapon and is intended to be worn on the upper forearm. This is the most expensive of the forms. In 1993 he said he normally charged 2500 CFA for type C and between 1500 and 2000 CFA for types A and B depending on their quality. Sallya noted that today only some Mossi, Tuareg and Tamelsheq men wear them, but that in his youth women also wore them. The internal diameters of the rings made for us during our stay ranged between 6 and 8.5 cm.

The forms manufactured at Hombori in 1993 correspond broadly with those documented by Lhote (1950: Figure 2) as being worn by the Tuareg in the Aïr during the 1940s. Our Type C corresponds absolutely with Lhote’s Type 1, and our Type A is identical to Lhote’s Type 4 (which he states is made in Hombori marble). Lhote’s Type 3 is less flat (wedge-shaped) in cross section that our modern Type B, but it is of a basic triangular profile. Lhote (1950: 464) notes this regional manufacturing difference himself, remarking that he never saw Tuaregs in Niger wearing such a flat form. This is interesting, because it is this form that Sallya specified as being preferred by the Tuareg of Mali. Indeed, I witnessed Tuareg wearing this form in the Gourma during the 1990s on several occasions. Likewise, I have never encountered Lhote’s triple-ridged Type 2 in Mali. Thus, there are likely to have been regional stylistic boundaries in bracelet manufacturing between the Tuareg Saharan traditions and the Songhay Sahelian traditions. Regarding the historic marketing of these items, Sallya recounted that at least within his and his grandfather’s lifetimes, stone bracelets were not worn by the Songhay of Hombori, but only traded out to neighbouring groups. As noted above, before the 1930s large numbers of bracelets were taken 100km or more to the south to be traded with the Mossi and the Peul of Haute Volta (modern Burkina Faso). Carmagnani and Pailler (2009) relate fascinating accounts of the conspicuous consumption of stone rings by the Mossi after harvest, a time of year when merchants from Hombori were always on hand to supply a robust demand. Additional and steady clients were the Peul and Tamelsheq pastoralists, who visited the Hombori region annually during their dry season transhumance, and either purchased or had Hombori bracelets custom-made for them. According to Sallya this was the extent of the trade in his youth. However, a famous image in the Fortier photo postcard series of 1906 (no.1003), purporting to show ‘Habbès habitants des montagnes de Macina [sic],’ or in contemporary parlance ‘Dogon of the Bandiagara’ reveals four young men wearing bracelets (Figure 9). Close examination of these under magnification show some not to be the wooden varieties typically worn by the Dogon, but of stone, in form types ‘A’ and ‘B’. Thus,

Figure 8. Photo of typical examples of the three bracelet types produced at Hombori in 1993. From left to right: Types A, B, and C (photo S. Laidlaw). 122

The Stone Arm Ring and Related Polished Stone Industries of Hombori (Mali)

Figure 10. Perforated Stone ‘Hachette’ pendants made at Hombori in 1993 (photo S. Laidlaw).

Figure 9. Reproduction of no.1003 of the Fortier Soudan photo postcard series of 1906, purporting to show ‘Habbès habitants des montagnes de Macina [sic]’ or in contemporary parlance ‘Dogon of the Bandiagara’ – all are wearing bracelets (of both wood and stone).

there is reason to believe that the ‘Habbè/Dogon,’ however defined, also wore these bracelets 100 years ago. In addition to stone rings Sallya showed us two other forms of objects which he made in Hombori marble: amulets and a small mortar and pestle set for grinding traditional medicines. Amulets take the form of small stone axes or hachettes, perforated by a single hole at their proximal end from which a leather neck cord is tied (Figure 10). Such items are perhaps unique in the historic polished stone traditions of Africa. They are manufactured with the same tool kit as used for arm rings, except that the perforation is made with a nail-sized spike and evened internally by a small quartz drill. The four representative examples I have been able to obtain vary between 38 and 52mm in length and 27 and 36mm in breadth. The cutting edge of these amulets is left blunt, with margins only minimally chamfered to give a proper ‘axe-like’ contour when viewed in section. However, I was shown some older examples which have been well-thinned to a moderately sharp edge more in keeping with the form of ‘Late Stone Age’ hachettes,

which are common surface finds in the Hombori area. While ancient perforated examples are unknown in the Hombori/ Douentza region (see MacDonald 1996), similarly perforated ‘hachette’ pieces as well as other ‘pendeloques’, although rare, are known prehistorically from the Dhar Tichitt region (Amblard 1984: 203-5). Despite a frail possibility of continuity, these are the most likely candidates for Hombori’s diverse stone industries to be regarded as a relatively recent ‘re-invention’ of a lost tradition, based on prehistoric models. While all of the aforementioned items have been made for sale to tourists, as well as to locals, in the past half century, some rare types of items in Hombori marble were still made for uniquely local consumption. These include small mortars and pestles used for crushing and mixing local medicines, as well as stone bowls which are no longer made today, but occur as curated items in certain Hombori households. A mortar and pestle which we obtained features a small, 43mm diameter basin with a roughened interior surface about 1cm in depth. The mortar has an integral stand or handle of 48mm maximum diameter. The associated pestle is 105mm in length, with a maximum breadth of 20mm (Figure 11). The stone bowl illustrated in Figure 11 was collected by Nicholas Gestrich in 2010, it has a 16cm diameter on a pedestal whose diameter is 7.8cm. At variance with Dudot’s (1969) account of Tamelsheqmade bracelets, Sallya insisted that the Hombori bracelets have no special significance to wearers outside of aesthetics and defence. Dudot (1969) claims that stone arm rings also have a magical significance, being thought of by the Tamelsheq as protectors against the evil thoughts and incantations of enemies. However, Sallya does believe 123

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Figure 11. Stone Bowl and Stone Mortar and Pestle made of Hombori Marble. The stone bowl is said to be of early 20th century date, the mortar and pestle were made by Mammadou Sallya in 1993 (photo S. Laidlaw). that hachette pendants have a supernatural value and a hidden symbolism. He refused to reveal the exact nature of this symbolism, saying that if he were to do so his “right arm would wither”. Yet, he could assert that they were effective ‘porte-bonheur’ or ‘good luck charms’, particularly for wearing during voyages. Sallya also reported that other types of polished stone pendants, as well as anthropomorphic and zoomorphic statuettes were made from the stone during his lifetime, but that they were no longer made today. Since independence Hombori bracelets have been sold to the Tuareg or to tourists for cash. However, Sallya claims that before the Second World War they formed part of a system of barter. The values he remembered were as follows: 1 bracelet = 15 mourai (cups) of millet 10 bracelets = one cow 3 bracelets = 1 sheep Elsewhere (MacDonald 1998) I have argued that both polished stone rings and hachettes may have served prehistorically as a means of wealth storage for mobile Sahelo-Saharan pastoral groups. These remembered exchange values are an interesting indicator of the use of such objects in an exchange economy. History and Archaeology of the Polished Stone Industries and Hombori Marble It is difficult to say with any certainty whether the Hombori polished stone tradition is a continuation of ancient traditions, or merely a re-invention modelled on the many

prehistoric examples of such items which litter the plains of the region. Polished stone arm rings have a long history in Saharan Africa, extending back to the 5th millennium BC (MacDonald 1998). They remain common finds at sites – particularly sites associated with pastoral peoples - until the first millennium BC (MacDonald 1994). After this date, their distribution at dated localities becomes much more patchy. Indeed, from extensive excavations at occupation sites and cemeteries around Kissi in north-eastern Burkina Faso, it is apparent that iron and copper alloys replaced stone as the material of choice for bracelets and anklets in the first millennium AD (Magnavita 2009). Still there is some persistence in stone bracelet finds over the last two millennia. From recent excavations at Essouk-Tadmakka in the Adrar des Iforas, there was a single stone bracelet find from Period 1, pre AD 750 (Nixon 2009: Figure 16). From the 1981 excavations at Jenné-jeno there were two stone bracelet finds (in quartzite and basalt) and a pierced stone pendant (in hematite) – all from Phase IV (ca. AD 9001400) (McIntosh 1995: 247, 249). Finally, Insoll’s historic (c. 18th – 19th century) excavations in Timbuktu recovered three stone bracelet fragments (though not of Hombori stone) and a number of blackened clay bracelet fragments. From the foregoing it appears that while stone bracelets never quite died out after the first millennium BC, they are clearly very rare at large settlement complexes and in their cemeteries. It is also useful to consider here the distribution of objects made in ‘Hombori marble’ – whatever their form. From Jenné-jeno there are definite examples of polished stone objects made in ‘Hombori marble’, however, these are

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The Stone Arm Ring and Related Polished Stone Industries of Hombori (Mali) all (tubular) beads and occur in Phase I/II and III [inf.] contexts, ca. 200 BC – AD 500) (McIntosh 1995: 248249). From Dia-Shoma, farther to the west, there is a single find of a conical bead in Hombori marble dating to ca. AD 500-1000 (Schmidt 2005: 266). Yet farther west, at Koumbi Saleh, there appears to be a single find of a discshaped bead in Hombori marble dating to very late in the occupation (niveau V, ca. AD 1400-1500; Berthier 1997, Planche XXXIV, no.47). However, at one of the tell sites closest to the Hombori region, that of Tongo Maaré Diabel, just north of Douentza, no Hombori marble finds have been made throughout its occupation, ca. AD 400 – 1100 (MacDonald n.d., N. Gestrich pers. comm.). Likewise, Hombori marble appears to be absent at the cemeteries and occupation sites of Kissi in northeastern Burkina Faso (c. AD 100 -1200) ( Magnavita et al. 2002, Magnavita 2009). The pattern which takes shape is one of limited, but longlived polished marble bead manufacture in the Hombori region between c. 200 BC and AD 1400. Discussion and Conclusions The manufacture of items other than beads from Hombori marble – and stone arm rings in particular - cannot yet be documented archaeologically. However from early ethnographic and colonial sources it is clear that the Hombori stone bracelet industry was well-developed at the end of the 19th century. Marie (1975: 142) cites a colonial record of 1899 which states, “On connait l’existence au N d’Hombori, des carrières de marbre de Diamou produisant des bracelets vendus dans tout le Soudan”. It is beyond doubt, therefore, that this industry was extensive in its precolonial, 19th century development. This suggests some measure of antiquity – but by how many centuries? Was this merely a local re-invention of stone age traditions, visible on the surface of LSA/ Néolithique sites across the Sahel, in the 18th or 19th centuries by enterprising Songhay craftsmen? There are two plausible alternatives which would link the Hombori manufacturers with deeper time traditions. The first would assert that current Sahelian archaeology is poorly placed to document Hombori stone bracelets given that historically most users were mobile pastoralists, whose objets de parure are unlikely to be recovered at major mud brick settlement mounds. They are also highly personal objects and unless accidentally broken are unlikely to form part of settlement debris. Indeed, one of the earliest sources on the Tuareg, Duveyrier (1864: 392), stated that all Tuareg, when of an age to bear arms, were given a stone ring to wear on their right bicep. While other arm rings may be acquired later in life, their usage among the Tuareg does not appear to have been profligate and they may mainly appear in historical pastoral mortuary contexts. Certainly, few pastoral sites post-dating the first millennium BC have yet been excavated in the western Sahel, and pastoral mortuary archaeology from this period is virtually untouched. This hypothesis would infer an exploitation of Hombori marble for beads (from c.200 BC) side by side with an as yet undocumented pastoral bracelet

industry which does not make its way into urban or even sedentary village assemblages. The second, and in my view more likely possibility, is that the Hombori stone industry is a relatively recent aspect of an ancient tradition which had previously used other stone sources. This is the argument of Jean and Michel Gaussen (1988: 253) who see a continuity in technical style between earlier stone ring manufacturing localities and those of Hombori. In this case one could envisage that the advent of stone ring production around Hombori ties in with the appearance of Tuareg pastoralists in the region; a group for which stone bracelets appear to have a deeply embedded symbolic and social utility (see Lhote 1950). Marie (1975) relates the rise of the Tuareg influence around Hombori to the decline of Songhay authority in the region following the conquest of Gao by the Moroccans in AD 1591. This phenomenon only increased over time into the 19th century. As such, the Songhay, then periodically vassals to the Tuareg (and others, including the Peul), may have taken up stone bracelet making in the Tuareg tradition, under the instruction of Tuareg craftsmen; either as an important economic supplement or perhaps as an obligation. Naturally, this would have been an evolving tradition, responding to the new possibilities offered by new technologies and is hardly envisaged as some kind of ‘living fossil’ of the stone age. Yet, much as the stone carving traditions of medieval Europe continue to find expression in scarce and much sought after heritage craftsmen today, so too might the Hombori tradition be the last lineal vestiges of earlier Saharan traditions. Only continued archaeological research, particularly new research on the historical archaeology of Sahelian pastoralism, can ultimately bring a more parsimonious conclusion to this open question. Acknowledgements I would like to thank my long-time friend Sorywan Maiga of Hombori and Bamako for making the 1993 trip to Hombori possible, and for bringing the stone rings of Hombori to Bamako in the first place. Our 1993 fieldwork in the Douentza-Hombori region was funded by the generosity of the Swan Fund of Oxford and the Crowther-Beynon fund of Cambridge. Thanks are also due to Stuart Laidlaw of the Institute of Archaeology for the photography of the artefacts. Finally, I would like to gratefully acknowledge the assistance of my wife, Dr Rachel Hutton MacDonald, who accompanied me to Hombori. References Amblard, S. 1984. Tichitt-Walata (R.I. Mauritanie): Civilisation et Industrie Lithique. Paris : Editions Recherches sur les Civilisations. Berthier, S. 1997. Recherches archéologiques sur la capitale de l’empire de Ghana : Etude d’un secteur d’habitat à Koumbi Saleh, Mauritanie. Campagnes II-III-IV-V (1975-1976) – (1980-1981). Cambridge

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Monographs in African Archaeology no.41. Oxford: BAR Publishing. Carmagnani, A. G. and Pailler, Y. 2009. Stone Bracelet Production in Mali, Internet Archaeology, Issue 26 (http://intarch.ac.uk/journal/issue26/16/toc.html accessed 24 May, 2010) Desplagnes, Lt. L. 1907. Le Plateau Central Nigérien : une mission archéologique et ethnographique au Soudan Français. Paris: Emile Larose. de Zeltner, F. 1912. Objets en Pierre Polie de l’Aïr, Bulletin de la Société d’Anthropologie de Paris (6e séries) 3 : 394-7. Dudot, B. 1969. Notes sur la fabrication des anneaux de bras en pierre portés par les Touareg de l’Aïr. Notes Africaines 122 : 58-61. Duveyrier, H. 1864. Les Touareg du Nord. Paris : Challamel. Gaussen, J. and Gaussen, M. 1988. Le Tilemsi Préhistorique et ses Abords: Sahara et Sahel Malien. Cahiers du Quaternaire no.11. Paris : CNRS. Göttler, G. 1989. Die Tuareg: Kulturelle Einheit und regionale vielfalt eines Hirtenvolkes. Köln: DuMont Buchverlag. Insoll, T. 2001-02. The Archaeology of Post-Medieval Timbuktu, Sahara 13: 7-21. Lhote, H. 1950. L’anneau du bras Touareg, ses techniques et ses rapports avec le préhistoire. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Afrique Noire, 12 : 456-487. MacDonald, K.C. 1994. Socio-economic Diversity and the Origins of Cultural Complexity along the Middle Niger (2000 BC to AD 300). PhD Thesis, Clare Hall, University of Cambridge. MacDonald 1996. The Windé Koroji Complex: evidence for the peopling of the eastern Inland Niger Delta (2100 - 500 BC). Préhistoire Anthropologie Méditerranéennes, 5:147-65. MacDonald, K.C. 1998. Before the Empire of Ghana: Pastoralism and the Origins of Cultural Complexity

in the Sahel. In Transformations in Africa: essays on Africa’s later past, ed. G. Connah, London: Cassell, 71-103. MacDonald, K.C. n.d. Final Report on the 1995/1996 Southern Gourma Field Season. Submitted to the British Academy and the Malian Institut des Sciences Humaines. Magnavita, S., Hallier, M., Pelzer, C., Kahlheber, S. and Linseele, V. 2002. Nobles, Guerriers, paysans. Une nécropole de l’Age de Fer et son emplacement dans l’Oudalan pré- et protohistorique, Beiträge zur Allgemeinen und Vergleichenden Archäologie 22 : 2164. Magnavita, S. 2009. Sahelian Crossroads : Some Aspects on the Iron Age Sites of Kissi, Burkina Faso, In S. Magnavita, L. Koté, P. Breuning, and O.A. Idé (eds.) Crossroads: Cultural and technological developments in first millennium BC/AD Africa, Frankfurt am Main: Africa Magna Verlag, pp.79-104. Marie, J. 1975. le Hombori, In J. Gallais (ed.) Pasteurs et Paysans du Gourma : la condition Sahelienne, Paris : Editions CNRS, 141-8. McIntosh, S.K. (ed.) 1995. Excavations at Jenné-Jeno, Hambarketolo, and Kaniana (Inland Niger Delta Mali), the 1981 Season. Berkeley: University of California Press. Nicolaisen, J. and Nicolaisen, I. 1997. The Pastoral Tuareg : Ecology, Culture and Society (2 volumes). London: Thames and Hudson. Nixon, S. 2009. Excavating Essouk-Tadmakka (Mali): new archaeological investigations of early trans-Saharan trade. Azania: Archaeological Research in Africa 44: 217-55. Schmidt, A. 2005. Parure : perles, labrets, bracelets, pendentifs et cauris, In Recherches archéologiques à Dia dans le Delta intérieur du Niger (Mali): bilan des saisons de fouilles 1998-2003, eds. R.M.A. Bedaux, J. Polet, K. Sanogo, and A. Schmidt, Leiden, 263-281.

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Contextualising the DGB* sites of northern Cameroon Dr Gerhard Muller-Kosack Mandaras Publishing [email protected] www.mandaras.info

Abstract The DGB sites are a group of mid 13th to mid 17th century stone structures confined to a small area on the northern highest slopes of the Mandara mountains. The radio carbon dates provided by recent archaeological excavations on some of the sites form an important chronological anchor for the pre-colonial history of the region. In the light of this, we explore how the archaeological findings compare with existing ethnographic, linguistic and historical data. We examine, firstly, whether the formation of the Mafa, the largest group in the region, is a post-DGB event, and secondly, the possible wider geographical reach of the DGB, having regard to the formation of the Wandala state in Kirawa, 30 km to the north. There is evidence that pottery with small apertures found on all the sites can be compared to a particular type of ancestral pottery as historically used in the mountains and plains north of the sites. There are also migratory traditions in the north-western Mandara mountains which do indicate a generally northward direction of movement of people in the past.

Key words: DGB, Mandara mountains, Wandala state

Introduction This paper aims to highlight the need for the multidisciplinary contextualisation of new archaeological discoveries in a region in which ethnographic comparison forms the second most important stage in the process of knowledge construction. The 16 dry stone structures known as the DGB sites (David, et al., 2008)1, numbered according to their discovery, are the most important archaeological remains in the Mandara mountains of North Cameroon.2 The purpose of the sites remains uncertain, while the latest radiocarbon dates3 suggest an age range of about 400 years, between 1250 AD and 1650 AD. The nature of most data for this period of the pre-colonial history of the region, which is governed by the geographical dichotomy of mountains and plains, is oral tradition.4 Three sites have been excavated so far, DGB-8 and DGB-2 by David, and DGB-1 by MacEachern (email correspondence, May 2010). DGB-8 and DGB-2 belong in the 15th century AD and their existence must be measured in decades rather than centuries (David, 2008, 72). DGB-1 on the other hand provides evidence of two periods: the first one lasting from the mid 13th century to the late 14th century AD, the second with most of the dates indicating site occupation from the early 15th to the mid 17th century AD. These dates therefore not only place DGB-1 and DGB-2 in the DGB stands for diy-ge-ɗbiy, or ‘ruin of chiefly residence’ in the local Mafa language. 1 David deals in great detail with the archaeology and the ethnoarchaeological analysis of the sites. His book contains a chapter by Muller-Kosack and Sterner on Mafa concepts about the sites and their builders. Muller-Kosack also explores migratory traditions in and out of the DGB area, while Sterner shows that the DGB sites had a more recent, turbulent, history projected upon them. 2 The webpage www.mandaras.info/research.html provides the interested reader with three slide shows, documenting preliminary research results linked to the first period of exploration. 3 I want to thank Scott MacEachern for sharing his unpublished excavation report of DGB-1 with me. 4 See Vansina and Henige for methodological issues on the critical treatment of oral traditions. *

15th century, but also suggest contemporaneity with the emerging pre-Islamic Wandala state in Kirawa, only 30 km further north (MacEachern, et al., in press). This makes the radiocarbon dates from the excavated DGB sites a significant chronological anchor in our attempt to reassess the pre-colonial history of the wider region in the light of these new findings. This article does not intend to critically discuss DGB archaeology and ethno-archaeology but aims to identify relevant strands of multidisciplinary research within the wider region. This aim stems from the fact that the author has been a devoted ethnographer of the region for many years, not only in the DGB area itself but also in the region to its north, where his research has generated ethnographic and other data (some as yet unpublished) relevant for the interpretation of existing DGB findings. Hence we will briefly re-examine some of the hypotheses already discussed elsewhere, for example the migratory traditions which point to a northward movement (MullerKosack, 2008, 117-119) as well as a comparison of the material culture of existing ethno-linguistic groups with architectural features of the sites and one particular type of pottery found (Muller-Kosack, 2009, 97-115). We will further look at the linguistic sub-classification of the various language groups and the multidisciplinary intricacies involved when we try to connect this to our other findings. Finally, we will investigate the early historical sources concerning the formation of the pre-Islamic Wandala state in Kirawa, in order to look at the issue of its alleged contemporaneity with at least two of the DGB sites. The DGB sites All DGB sites are found in close geographical proximity to each other on hilltops on the northern slopes of the Oupay massif, close to the present international boundary of Cameroon and Nigeria. They consist of terraced stone platforms of various sizes abutting each other, with features belonging to different periods of construction. DGB-1 and DGB-2 were first described by Christian Seignobos 127

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Figure 1: View of DGB-1, the largest of the sites. in 1982. Muller-Kosack (unpublished report, 2001) discovered and mapped, in 1986, nine more, but much smaller sites, in neighbouring villages. All were known to the local Mafa, who nonetheless claimed that they had not been built by their ancestors but by other people the origin of whom varied according to oral tradition. My survey of 1986 suggested that all the DGB sites shared a common feature, consisting of smooth facades to the dry stone walling, which was very unusual for the local Mafa. This observation was confirmed by David and Muller-Kosack in 2001/02 when more sites were discovered. It became clear that the DGB complex was limited to the northern slopes of the Oupay massif, and that most sites were visible to each other, facing the north-western hills and plains of the Mandara mountains (David, 2008, 33). The excavation of DGB-2 and DGB-8 by Nicholas David and his team (David, et al., 2008) produced a first set of radiocarbon dates which put the sites into the first half of the 15th century AD. David suggested a ritual function for them, due to the absence of evidence for domestic occupation. Maley and David (2008, 112-113) also connected the sites to a period when Lake Chad levels were reducing quite dramatically, and David (2008, 107) specifically suggested that the DGBs might have served as some kind of watch or water towers, possibly in the context of rituals of reproduction. We need to examine whether the link to climatic deterioration as a trigger for the building of the sites can be maintained, since new excavations carried out by MacEachern (et al., in press) on DGB-1 puts the largest of the sites into a much broader chronological framework, generally speaking between the 13th and the 17th centuries AD. He has identified clear evidence of early domestic occupation at the foot of DGB1, and he provides evidence of foreign contact, e.g. artefacts

made of copper alloy, glass beads, and a few non-local ceramics. According to him, the early 15th century was the period when both DGB-1 and DGB-2 were presumably functioning as a related architectural complex. 5 With regard to the index pottery of the DGB sites, MacEachern (et al., in press) confirm that pots with small apertures existed throughout all periods at DGB-1, but they also identified a possible earlier phase, prior to the 14th century, with a different kind of pottery. This is archaeological research in progress, and it remains to be further tested. MacEachern concludes that the presence of materials foreign to the area may be due in part to the geographical position of the site, close to the early Wandala capital at Kirawa. The nature of relations between that site and communities beyond the Mandara mountains is intended to be part of future fieldwork planned for 20102011. Relevant strands of regional research The northern Mandara mountains are very densely populated and ethnically and linguistically constitute one of the most diverse areas in Africa.6 All DGB sites are situated on the northern slopes of Mount Oupay which forms with Mount Ziver the highest massif of the Mandara mountains, of which the Gwoza hills to the north are a natural progression. The international boundary runs south, following the Kirawa river and then along the heights of Tur, west of the Ziver-Oupay massif, making the Gwoza MacEachern earlier (1993, 247-270) explored some of the underlying historical and ethnographic questions relating to Wandala and montagnard interactions, in particular regarding the trade in iron and the history of slavery. 6 The web pages of www.mandaras.info provide an academic overview of all the groups, including an extensive bibliography. 5

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Contextualising the DGB sites of northern Cameroon

Figure 2: The Mandara Mountains

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives hills a part of Nigeria. The area in question is about 11° North and forms part of the Sudano-Sahelian zone, with significantly less rainfall than the southern Mandara mountains. The area of the DGB sites is today occupied by the Mafa, the largest group in the Mandara mountains, and they practice terrace cultivation. Hitherto there were no absolute dates available to provide us with a chronological framework within which we could date the oral traditions of population movement during pre-colonial times. My hypothesis is that this has now changed, and that the archaeology of the DGB sites provides us with a possible range of dates, allowing us to distinguish between a DGB and a post DGB period. This has far reaching implications for the pre-colonial history of the region.

is a new controversy in linguistics which distinguishes between the spatiality aspect (contact history) and the linguistic (or genetic) similarity of languages (Wolff, 2007; Gravina, 2007). This controversy complicates our attempt considerably since it has brought about a geographical dichotomy in the languages in question. The situation is extremely complicated because the controversy brings into question how longer periods of overlapping contact (spatiality) can influence the linguistic structure (phonology, morphology and syntax) of languages. The main language groups we are dealing with are Mofu-Mafa, Kamwe, Sakon, and Lamang-Wandala. We will examine below what the intricacies are, and make suggestions as to how these language groups might relate to each other.

We might first want to reassure ourselves that the Mafa’s claim that they were not the builders of the sites continues to hold true, having regard to the considerably longer occupational period of DGB-1 now established by MacEachern. Not much has changed in this respect, in that the local Mafa still consider the sites to be alien to their cultural heritage. This is further supported by the various concepts they have developed to underpin this claim (Muller-Kosack, 2008, 117-119). We therefore maintain our hypothesis that the formation of the Mafa is a postDGB event, but starting around 1650 AD, significantly later than previously thought.

A fourth important strand is to examine the sources available with regard to the formation of the early Wandala state in Kirawa. The suggested contemporaneity of DGB-1 and DGB-2 with the early period of this pre-Islamic state has a linguistic dimension as well as an environmental one. We need to consider the possible relationship between Kirawa and the mountain populations, bearing in mind that the Gwoza hills are geographically “sandwiched” between the DGB sites and Kirawa.

A second strand of research is a comparison between DGB architecture and associated finds and relevant aspects of material culture among the various ethno-linguistic groups in the region. Thus, a particular concern for smooth facades in wall building is known among the Dghweɗe, Chikiɗe and Guduf of the Gwoza hills (Muller-Kosack, 2004 and 2009). We also find that pots with small apertures, so typical for the DGB sites, are known in the Gwoza hills and adjacent plains, if not among the Mafa.7 There is an indication that a similar type of pottery can be found in other parts of the northern Mandara mountains, but only to the north but not to the south of the sites. The function of such pots is always linked to ritual beer drinking. Iron “bracelets” made into chains (David, 2008, 107) are a third striking element of material culture. They are never directly associated with any of the DGB sites, but are found close to one of them on Mount Oupay. The Mafa claim they are not of their cultural heritage. Pictures of such chains were identified in 2004 by my Dghweɗe, Chikiɗe and Glavda informants of the Gwoza hill area as objects they often acquired from the Wandala of Kirawa in the past.8 Thirdly, in the light of our hypothesis that the formation of the Mafa is ethno-historically a post DGB event, the question arises as to which language was spoken in the area prior to the formation of the Mafa. All languages of the northern Mandara mountains are sub-classified under Biu-Mandara A of the Afro-Asiatic family.9 However, there See Muller-Kosack (1988, 91-118) for further details. Looking again through my field materials of 2004 I could identify evidence that all the groups mentioned here (not only the Dghweɗe) recognised such chains as being used in the past. 9 The term Biu-Mandara was introduced by Newman (1977). 7 8

In summary, our attempt to contextualise the DGB sites with what we know about the pre-colonial history of the region is a difficult task. The nature of the data is mainly ethnographic and the regional histories they display are very diverse and geographically dense, often contradictory. Migration and local group formation in the northwestern Mandara mountains The area we define here as the north-western Mandara mountains includes the Sukur massif (Sterner, 2003) and the Kapsiki plateau (van Beek, 1978 and 1987) with Roumsiki, the heights of Tur, the Ziver-Oupay massif including its foothills as far as Koza in the west, the Moskota hills and the Gwoza hills to its north. Within this area we find about 20 ethno-linguistic groups of various sizes, numbering between several thousand, tens of thousands, and the Mafa with about 150,000 (Muller-Kosack, 2003, 29-30).10 The Kapsiki form the second largest group. They are closely related to the Higi, the politically correct ethnonym and language designation for both being Kamwe. All other groups are considerably smaller. Some have descended from the hills since colonial times, following pacification and the end of slavery. MacEachern and David (2008, 142146) point out that there is no archaeological proof for a massive transfer of population during the early DGB period and that communities already existed in the highlands. But, although there is only oral data as evidence, researchers seem to agree that slave hunting in the plains was a major contributing factor for increased population pressure in the hills (MacEachern, 1993, 247-270).11 I suggest that this Refer to http://www.mandaras.info/ethnicgroups.html for detailed information. 11 In the absence of information from the early sources, we arrive at this view indirectly from evidence of increased slave hunting in the hills during the 18th and 19th centuries. One confirmation for this hypothesis 10

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Contextualising the DGB sites of northern Cameroon increase, at least during post-DGB times, put pressure not only on foothill populations but also on those at higher altitudes. I have demonstrated this in great detail with the formation of the Mafa along the eastern slopes and foothills of the Ziver-Upay massif (Muller-Kosack, 2003). Within this mosaic of groups, we often find clans and lineages of different ethno-linguistic origin, which have been incorporated into larger groups by taking over their language and ethnic identity. In other cases newcomers were adopted and took on the language, but later reinvented themselves by reverting back to their previous ethnic identity. It is quite common for the more recent arrivals to increase in size, so they eventually outnumber those who arrived before them, eventually incorporating the first comers or pushing them on to the next hillside. The geography of this process is generally in a northwards direction within the DGB area but also in the wider region, including the heights of Tur, the Gwoza hills and the Moskota hills. We do not imagine groups moving around, but rather individuals or families who migrated and eventually settled elsewhere. It appears, when we consider the intense agricultural system of terrace cultivation, that population size had the tendency to become a more important device for claiming political supremacy than territorial seniority, in the context of the patrilineal descent that most of these groups practiced. The formation of the Mafa is the classic example of this approach to local group formation. We find in most Mafa settlements that the largest local clan group is considered to be chiefly, not because of territorial seniority or descent, but solely because of its majority in terms of numbers (Muller-Kosack, 1991, 105-140). Reproductive capacity is therefore the main criterion for chiefly power, which is ideologically embedded in ritual terms by a system of beer exchange. In almost every case one can discover underlying sequences of ritual exchange which can be traced back to a local minority. These underlying sequences are often ritually disguised, since the official local history generally favours the largest local groups. I used this discovery to double check the migratory traditions in and out of the DGB area (Muller-Kosack, 2008, 117-119) which led to the establishment of two main migratory traditions, the earlier Sakon tradition and the later Mafa tradition. I also established another earlier tradition of movement out of the DGB area northwards, the so-called Godaliy tradition (Muller-Kosack, 2008, 117). The local Mafa refer as them as the builders of the sites. Godaliy is the Mafa term for the Dghweɗe of the Gwoza hills, but the Dghweɗe themselves do not confirm this. The above ties in, at least geographically and linguistically, with Seignobos’ “palaeo Glavda” (Seignobos, 1982, 44-45) although he does not disclose the source of his information. In terms of migratory traditions, the Glavda can be linked to the so-called Tur tradition12 (Muller-Kosack, 1996, 137-370) is Borno’s early international trade in horses for slaves. Horses were not of great use for slave hunting in the hills, but they were in the plains. 12 The data for the Tur tradition are a result of my ethnographic research

of the Gwoza hills although they had already settled since pre-colonial times in the adjacent plain to the east. They allegedly migrated from Tur, via Gvoko, and then moved in different directions including an area to the east of Gvoko which we cannot identify anymore. However, we do find oral evidence of former Glavda at the northern tip of the Moskota hills, indicating that the incoming Mafa pushed them into the plain of Kirawa. Other evidence indicating former Glavda presence can be found on the foothills of Gava from where they were pushed into the plain of Kirawa by the Guduf. The Glavda were already considered during colonial times to be a population of the plains and not of the hills (MacFarlane, 1932, unpublished colonial report).

Figure 3: Pre-colonial migration in the north-western Mandara mountains. The Tur tradition is the most common migratory tradition found in the Gwoza hills. It comprises the Gvoko, Dghweɗe, Chikiɗe, Guduf, Zelidva and Wandala. The tradition is on closer examination linked also to the central plateau south of the Ziver-Oupay massif, and in particular to Roumsiki. The Sakon tradition of the Mafa is linked to the same wider area but more to the immediate southeast of the ZiverOupay massif. This tradition can be found today up on the Ziver-Oupay massif, as well as in the settlements to its east and north, but the Tur tradition of the Gwoza hills does not show any such links, except to the unidentified area mentioned earlier in the context of the Glavda. This makes in the Gwoza hills between 1994 and 2010. Much of this material is still unpublished. I also made an extensive search of colonial sources on the Gwoza hills in the National Archives of Nigeria in Kaduna, cf. Matthew (1934, unpublished colonial report).

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives the Godaliy tradition of the Mafa the “odd one out”. As mentioned above, the Mafa call the Dghweɗe “Godaliy” and claim that they were the builders of the DGB, although they left a long time ago. The Dghweɗe know only that the Mafa call them “Godaliy”. It may be that the Tur tradition of the Gwoza hills has become so ideologically important that possible other links to the area in question cannot be traced anymore. We hypothesise here that the Tur tradition is possibly contemporary with the formation of the Mafa, while the Sakon tradition is potentially older. The notion that the Sakon tradition represents a relatively earlier period of northwards migration relates to the idea that some existing mountain populations possibly were pushed out on to the foothills and adjacent plains. This might well have happened as a result of intensified postDGB migrations in the region, as represented by the Tur and Mafa traditions. Since these traditions all indicate a mainly northwards direction we need to look at groups like the Lamang and Glavda to see whether we can find any ethno-historical evidence for this. Only one piece of ethnographic information seems to have some relevance, and this is on the Zelidva spur, the most northern extension of the Gwoza hills. Today hardly any Zelidva are left there, but historical records reveal that downhill migration was a result of pacification during colonial times (Lewis, 1924, unpublished colonial report). The Zelidva connect themselves in terms of ethnic descent to the Dghweɗe via a founding ancestor who is incorporated into the Tur tradition. This ancestor, whose name was Kumba Zadva, was originally adopted by a Lamang speaking family settling on the Zelidva spur13 but because Kumba Zadva and his descendents increased so successfully they linked themselves back to Dghweɗe and the Tur tradition, while keeping the Lamang language.14 This demonstrates that Lamang speaking groups lived during post-colonial times on top of the Zelidva spur prior to the formation of the Tur tradition. Others of the Zelidva descended to the northwest and east of the spur where they adopted Wandala and Glavda as their respective languages (Muller-Kosack, unpublished fieldnotes). Wolff‘s (1974, 11) early survey data on the languages of the Gwoza hills supports the above hypothesis, when he points to the slopes of the north-western Mandara mountains as the ancient home of the Lamang speaking groups. Wolff indirectly refers to the Hdi, who live on the heights of Tur, i.e. the very place from which the Tur tradition allegedly originates, although they speak a language more closely related to Lamang than Dghweɗe. This suggests that the Tur tradition is linguistically15 oddly “sandwiched” between the heights of Tur to its south and the Zelidva spur to its Hall (1934, unpublished linguistic materials) lists the inhabitants of villages on the Zelidva spur as speakers of “dialects” of the “Hadkala [Hiɗkala] Clan”, which is Lamang. 14 The Zelidva and Lamang field materials I collected mainly between 1994 and 2000 but they are still unpublished. 15 Gvoko, Dghweɗe, Chikiɗe, Guduf, Glavda are sub-classified under Wandala while the Zelidva speak today Lamang, Glavda and Wandala proper. 13

north. Furthermore Lamang speaking groups can today be found only along the adjacent western plain from Luvua (north of Gwoza town) almost as far south as Madagali. Their presence in the area of Gwoza dates to pre-colonial times, except for the Vemgo and Waga further south.16 It seems that we cannot get any further by inquiring into migratory traditions, and in order to resolve this ethnolinguistic jigsaw puzzle we must revert to linguistics. I need to emphasise at this point that my arguments are avowedly hypothetical, and are mainly meant to demonstrate some of the intricacies we are confronted with when trying to contextualise the DGB sites by reliance on ethno-historical data. Spatiality versus linguistic structure in the context of DGB research Unfortunately, there are not enough data available (email communication with Ekkehard Wolff, April 2010) to categorise Lamang and Wandala as separate or combined language groups of Biu-Mandara A. The conventional sub-classification of Biu-Mandara A (Newman, 1990, 1-5) classifies A4, the Mandara group, into (a) Mandara, Dghweɗe, Glavda, Guduf, Gvoko, Podoko, and (b) Lamang, Mabas. Wolff (2007, 133) accepts this classification but adds Hdi to Newman’s Mandara group (b) and refers to it as the “Wandala-Lamang Group”. According to Wolff, it was Gravina (2007) who made the most recent attempt to reconstruct the classification of Biu-Mandara A by pointing out a geographical dichotomy, with a division into north and south major groups. Gravina further sub-divides the north group into three major subgroups, as follows: West – Bura group (former A2) and Mandara group (former A4) East – Maroua group (former A11) Centre – Turu Group (former A9) and Higi group (former A3) Within Gravina’s Mandara group we find the following minor sub-groups: Wandala – with Wandala (Malgwa) Glavda – with Cineni, Dghweɗe, Guduf-Gava, Glavda, Gvoko Podoko – with Parkwa, Matal Within Gravina’s Turu group we find no sub-groups, but Wolff states that he would prefer this group to be renamed “Lamang group” with the three languages “Lamang, Vemgo-Mabas and Hdi”. Wolff accepts only reluctantly that Lamang and Mandara belong, according to Gravina’s new sub-classification, to two different geographical subgroups. He prefers to continue to sub-classify Lamang and Mandara together as a Lamang-Wandala “convenience group”. Wolff acknowledges Gravina’s “classical methodology” of linguistic comparison, but states that his linguistic intuition “revolts” against this, since Dghweɗe Muller-Kosack, unpublished field materials and related documents retrieved from the Nigerian National Archives in Kaduna. 16

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Contextualising the DGB sites of northern Cameroon ends up linguistically closer to “Bura-Margi and Gisiga” than to “Lamang or Hdi”.

of material culture showing similarities to that found at the DGB sites.

I am in no position to argue this linguistic controversy between Wolff’s desire to keep Lamang-Wandala as a convenience group on the grounds of their geographical vicinity17 and Gravina’s comparative approach on the basis of phonological, morphological and syntactical similarities, which leads to a separation of the two sub-groups. Both Wolff and Gravina agree that Dghweɗe, Glavda, Guduf and Gvoko are grouped together, while Lamang appears to be more related to Hdi (Tur). Unfortunately, we lack sufficient linguistic data, in particular with regard to Dghweɗe and Guduf, to explore the spatiality argument any further. In the light of my previous hypothesis that Lamang might well have been spoken in the Gwoza hills prior to the formation of the Dghweɗe, Chikiɗe and Guduf we concur here with Wolff and continue to adhere to a Lamang-Wandala “convenience group”.

I have already mentioned the pots with small apertures and that such pots can only be found to the north of the DGB sites, particularly in the Gwoza hills area. Pots with small apertures are also known among the Lamang, Zelidva and Glavda.18 The fact that such pots can be found among the Lamang raises the question as to how they got there in the first place. In the light of our earlier discussion one could argue that a possible link to the DGB sites exists not just with the hill populations but also with those in the foothills and plains. Lamang speaking groups might have occupied the slopes of the north-western Mandara mountains prior to the formation of the Dghweɗe, Guduf, Chikiɗe and Zelidva. If we follow this argument we have to ask why there is no evidence of pots with small apertures in the Hdi area of Tur, but rather among the Mafa of the Moskota hills. Here we rely on an informant from the Moskota hills, who said that he had seen them in his childhood, when shown an example from Dghweɗe. This can be interpreted as a preliminary confirmation of our hypothesis, since there is sufficient oral evidence that the Glavda did settle in the Moskota hills prior to the formation of the Mafa. Hence pots with small apertures, so typical for the DGB sites, can still be located in the hills and foothills, and in the plain of Kirawa. This supports the idea that the formation of the Mafa is a post-DGB event, and that the languages spoken in the DGB area were most likely closely related to the Lamang-Wandala “convenience group”.

Ethnographic comparison of pots with small apertures to the north of the DGB area Neither our exploration of migratory traditions nor that of linguistic data has yielded satisfying results. Although it has become quite clear that the formation of the Mafa took place following the end of the DGB period, most likely from 1650 AD onwards, we do not know what triggered this event. We also have no knowledge as to how the relatively earlier Sakon tradition might link to the Tur tradition of the Gwoza hills, since both seem to originate in the same area. Provisionally it seems that the Tur tradition is most likely contemporary with the formation of the Mafa, and accordingly with the population pressure this event might have triggered. We will now consider ethnographic evidence suggesting that Lamang and Wandala speaking groups share features We have demonstrated with the Tur tradition the pre-colonial contact history of both groups and we shall see that there are also elements of material culture pointing back to possible DGB contact prior to the formation of the Mafa. 17

With regard to the function of these pots, we can safely say that all ethnographic examples point to a ritual function linked to ancestor worship. In the case of the Dghweɗe, Guduf and Chikiɗe they are kept inside the house shrine, near the granary area, behind a stone wall with a particularly smooth façade (Muller-Kosack, 2009, 97-115).19 These three groups have a strong concern for sophisticated stone See www.mandaras.info/DGB-Godaliy_Research/fv21.htm for images of Lamang, Zelidva and Guduf pots with small apertures. 19 This can be seen at www.mandaras.info/DGB-Godaliy_Research/fv2a. htm and following images in the case of a Chikiɗe house. 18

Figure 4: Small apertures on DGB (1)*and Dghweɗe (2) pot sherds. *The DGB example is from David (2008, 83, Figure 5.3.2). 133

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives architecture of houses, platforms, and staircases, which differ from the Mafa architecture of today. Whether there is an historical link remains an open question, since the houses of the Lamang, Zelidva and Glavda have no great traditional concern for stone, even in the few remaining Zelidva settlements on top of the Zelidva spur. However, the positioning of ancestral pots with small apertures inside the house shrine behind a smooth outer façade of stone points to the importance of stone architecture in the context of rituals of reproduction among the groups of the Gwoza hills. It links stone as the most important architectural element for the development of terrace cultivation, and the ritual handling of sorghum beer, as a meaningful symbolic reference. The divine origin of sorghum is a widespread belief in the Mandara mountains, for example among the Mafa and also the Dghweɗe.20 The formation of the pre-Islamic Wandala state in Kirawa We have no absolute date for the foundation of Kirawa as the first capital of the pre-Islamic Wandala state at the foot of the Mandara mountains. The first historical mention is by Ibn Furtu in 1576 (Lange, 1987, 76) who speaks of the “large” town of Kirawa, where Sultan Idris Alauma of Borno sent his troops to depose the usurper and “pagan” ruler21 of Wandala. Idris Alauma’s troops conducted a siege of the “large rocky mountain” to the west of Kirawa where the usurper had taken refuge.22 The second historical mention of Kirawa is by Anania in 1582 (Lange and Berthoud 1972, 343) who speaks of “Mãdrà” (Mandara) and “Craua” (Kirawa) as its “main city” near “a big mountain rather rich in iron minerals.” Anania also mentions “Nicoli”23 (onyx) to be found there, which he describes as a “black gemstone with some red lining”. The earliest historical mention of a Wandala state is by Fra Mauro (Falchetta, 2006) on his mappa mondo around 1450. He also depicts among other “kingdoms” of the region “mandera” but interestingly not Borno. Although this is very early, we cannot link Fra Mauro’s Wandala state to Kirawa or the north-western foot of the Mandara mountains. The account of Leo Africanus, a Christian Moor, on “Borno and his realm” (Rauchenberger, 1999, 309-314, 340)24 is Muller-Kosack (1988, 91-118; 1996, 137-370; 2003, 102-104). King Ankara Yawe’s brother was most likely the “pagan” ruler Ibn Furtu mentions as the usurper, leading to a siege of Kirawa, and Ankara Yawe’s son, Ankara Dafla, was subsequently reinstated as king of Wandala (Forkl (1995, 397f). 22 This is the foothill to the west of Kirawa and not the Zelidva spur since the king of Borno conducted a successful siege, starving the besieged of water. If it had been on top of the Zelidva spur they would have had water all year round. 23 Anania writes “Nicoli” in Italian which should actually be niccolo or nicolo, derived from onicolo, an ancient word for onyx. It was also employed in an extensive sense for cameo (email correspondence with Piero Falchetto). Cameo jewellery was famous in 14th and 15th century Italy (Joan Evans, 1970). 24 Rauchenberger’s translation is based on the rediscovered manuscript of Leo Africanus; it also contains a detailed review of all previous translations of the so-called Ramusio version. See Muller-Kosack (2010) on Rauchenberger’s book in English. Italic fonts in the following quotes 20 21

a fourth historical source we need to mention here. Leo Africanus visited Borno at the beginning of the 16th century and was the first to point to the geographical dichotomy of mountains and plains. He refers to the inhabitants of the mountains as the “montanari” of “Borno”. He does not mention the Mandara mountains, but refers among others to “Medra” (p. 340) which is Mandara, as one of the more developed kingdoms “open for trading, wealthy and well governed by their rulers”. He writes that “the landscape of this province is diverse. Some regions are mountainous and others are flat. In the plains are big villages in which the more developed people live and the foreign, black and white merchants”. Within the structure of Leo Africanus’ ethnography we can safely assume that his dichotomy between mountains and plains is not only meant as a geographical reference but also extends to its inhabitants. It appears that he has chosen the concept of “montanari” as a literary opposite to those of the plains. He describes the “montanari” as people of whom some “have no religion” and “live like animals without faith. They share their women, who work like men.” He also writes that “they all go naked during summertime and cover their private parts with small aprons of leather. During wintertime they wear sheep hides and their beds are made of fur”. He says that “these mountain people also fight with each other but they use only bows and wooden arrows, without iron, which they dip in poison.” With regard to their economy he says that they “raise goats and cattle [and] plant millet and other, but unknown, cereals.” Leo makes no reference to terrace cultivation but highlights the warlike nature of the montagnards. He also indirectly refers to the colder mountain climate during the winter, and to their non-Islamic lifestyle, by referring to them as promiscuous “animals without faith”. His approach most likely reflects the spirit he encountered during his visit to Borno around 1513. At the time he was still a Muslim, and his main informants were traders from the more developed plains. His description of the non-Islamic populations of Borno is epitomised in the concept of “montanari” as an example of most remote, qualifying it as a sociogeographical prejudice. The latter still occurs as a matter of fact today. However, Leo Africanus is a very early source and therefore highlights the long history of the relationship between populations of the mountains and the plains. Leo Africanus also mentions Borno’s trade of slaves against horses from the Mediterranean region but does not refer to the “montanari” as a resource for slave hunting, neither does he mention the non-Islamic populations of the plains in this respect. So far, the early historical sources point to Kirawa as the capital of Wandala in the mid 16th century, and to the existence of a Wandala state already from the mid 15th century onwards. During the second half of the 16th century we have evidence of Kirawa being a regional centre of trade and of the richness in iron minerals of Mandara, which is linked to a big mountain. Most likely this is a indicate back translations from Rauchenberger’s German while the nonItalic quotes indicate Leo’s Italian.

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Contextualising the DGB sites of northern Cameroon reference to the Mandara mountains, but we do not know how close to Kirawa. There is also evidence that mount Kirawa, at the northern tip of the Mandara mountains, served as a place of refuge when Kirawa was under attack by the kingdom of Borno. From the first half of the 16th century onwards we have evidence of the slave trade and the import of horses by Borno, but this cannot be directly linked to Kirawa or the Wandala state.25 It is interesting that Leo Africanus chooses the “montanari” of Borno as a literary epitome for a backward region, but he does not list them as a resource for slave hunting. We will now briefly examine the pre-Islamic founding legend of the Wandala dynasty as recorded in the so-called Wandala chronicles, a collection of Arabic manuscripts.26 The legendary part was most likely composed over a period of about 150 years beginning shortly after the time of conversion to Islam in 1723/24 and continuing to the second half of the 19th century. The legendary accounts speak of “Agamakiya” as the first king of Wandala but with various thematic emphases. The reader should refer to Forkl (1995) who gives, in my opinion, the most authentic translation and commentary of this part of the chronicles, also a word-by-word comparison with Mohammadou’s (1982) translation of a manuscript from the first half of the 18th century. My summary of Forkl’s critical re-translation of the latter aims to highlight those elements which seem to be relevant to our task: discovering how Kirawa became the first capital, until its relocation to Doulo, near Mora. In a nutshell, “Agamakiya” made “Wandala”, most likely a descendant of a more senior lineage, custodian of the land, which made “Agamakiya” owner of the lands from “IshgaKawe” as far as “Krawa” (Kirawa), about 80 km to the southeast.27 The legend implies that a rift had occurred prior to the foundation of the Wandala state, in which Wandala’s lineage had been marginalised.28 By giving the Wandala lineage the custodianship of the land, “Agamakiya” had reconciled the nation, which is the underlying reason why he is considered the first king of Wandala. However, the legend also reveals that “Agamakiya” still resided in “Ishga-Kawe”. We do not know when and why exactly the Wandala state eventually moved its capital to Kirawa but the legend informs us that his daughter “Zegda” (also known as “Sukda”) moved temporarily to Kirawa after she became queen of Wandala, following “Agamakiya’s” The nearest reference to Borno’s slave economy in Ibn Furtu is “Bahwa (Bauwa?)”, presumably near Bama, which is an old Malgwa (Gamergu) settlement, where he kills the men and takes women and children as captives (Lange, 1987, 64). He also says that the Mandara and Margi rulers attack them, which is possibly an indirect reference to slave raiding in the plains. 26 The chronicles are written in Arabic script and there have been various translations of them. The most important ones are by Mohammadou (1982) and Forkl (1995). 27 “Ishga-Kawe” was formerly known as “Ishga-Malgu”, referring back to the founding ancestor of the Wandala and Malgwe (Gamergu). 28 It is alleged that after “Malgu’s” death, his son “Kawe” succeeded as chief of “Ishga-Malgu” and renamed it “Ishga-Kawe”. “Kawe” was followed by “Faye” who was the son of “Malgu’s” daughter and not Wandala although the latter was, like “Kawe”, a son of “Malgu”. Apparently the Faye lineage was more numerous and, following a conflict between the two groups, “Wandala” had to flee. 25

mysterious disappearance in a lake. Interestingly, “Zegda” was the product of “Agamakiya’s” liaison with a water spirit who had seduced him and he later followed his spirit wife into the mentioned lake.29 While “Zegda” was in Kirawa she most likely had a relationship with “Agakuma Gatu”, the chief of Kirawa, and their offspring, “Abalasaka Gile”, became the first Wandala king residing permanently in Kirawa after “Zegda’s” death. Forkl (1995, 390) tries to date king Agamakiya by counting the years of rule of the Wandala kings after the arrival of Islam, since they are noted down in the chronicles. By doing so, he arrives at an average reign of 34 years. Forkl then multiplies all pre-Islamic kings as far back as Agamakiya by 34 and takes away the resulting number of years from AD 1723/24, which brings him to the mid 13th century as the time of his rule. Of course, this is only an intelligent guess and we have to continue to rely on Ibn Furtu in the late 16th century before we get a reliable historical date for the first mention of Kirawa as the capital of the early Wandala state. The capital of Wandala was moved again not long after this date, most likely during the first half of the 17th century (Forkl, 1995, 393), to “Delo” (Doulo) at the north-eastern foot of the Mandara mountains. There the Wandala state merged with the smaller Maya kingdom by means of intermarriage. The historical reasons for moving the capital are far from clear, but one was presumably to get further away from the overbearing influence of the empire of Borno. Kirawa remained important as a residence of the first wife of the then still “pagan” Wandala king. At this point we need to stop and see whether any of the legendary information of the Wandala chronicles provides information for possible contextualisation with the DGB sites. First we have the link between the foundation of the Wandala dynasty and a female water spirit and king Agamakiya’s mysterious disappearance in a lake controlled by his spirit wife. Water spirits are a common theme in the ethnography of the region. They are seen as potentially vicious, known to kidnap people into their realm. They are also seen as a possible root cause for the birth of twins. This is common not only among the Mafa (MullerKosack, 1997, 305-336) in the DGB area but also among the populations of the Gwoza hills (Muller-Kosack, 1996, 159f). It shows that the legendary embroidery around king Agamakiya’s reproductive capacity derives from a nonIslamic symbolic pool of beliefs. It demonstrates a cultural similarity between the early Wandala state and the possible function of the DGB sites as centres of reproduction and the symbolic meaning of water. Secondly, we note that king Agamakiya made sure that an appropriate ritual link with the land was maintained by reconciling the kingdom with the “rightful” custodian of the land. The split between chiefly and priestly functions in relation to the sanctity of the earth is also well known among the Mafa of the DGB area (Muller-Kosack 1991, Barkindo (1989, 8292) identifies this as Lake Kingiro near Doulo, apparently a marshy area which is considered sacred and where sacred rites were performed by the Wandala kings until recently. 29

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives 105-125). This has to do with the formation of the Mafa as a large ethno-linguistic group, achieved by forming alliances with non-Mafa lineages and subsequently incorporating them, but with special ritual functions (Muller-Kosack, 2003). Something similar might have happened during the formation of the Wandala dynasty. The ritual responsibility for the land as the terrestrial source of fertility is given to the senior group, while the political power over the earth belongs to the one which is most numerous. The above shows two main themes, the fertility of the land and that of water, the latter being intrinsically linked to the skies. A similar aesthetic split is known among the groups of the Gwoza hills, where rain makers and corn blessers represent the natural sources of fertility. The DGB sites can be seen as an architectural representation of the same symbolic duality, huge rain shrines at the highest possible altitude in the region, reaching out to the skies, and at the same time rooted in the rocks in the form of platforms and passages. This interpretation supports David’s (2008) suggested ritual functions of the sites. My interpretation of the DGB pottery as ancestral beer pots, derived from ethnographic comparison to such pots in the Gwoza hills area, is consonant with this. A kind of alternative to David’s “play of agency” (2008, 139-141) can be suggested. His draws predominantly on an image of a great drought, inspired by the deteriorating climate in the first half of the 15th century. Dghweɗe rainmaking of today vividly supports the suggested ritual function of the DGB sites. Dghweɗe rainmakers use a bowl (today mostly a tin bowl, possibly imported from China) in which they assemble a set of longish oval stones bound together by a string of fibre. Next, the rainmaker sprinkles sorghum flour on the rocks in the bowl and then he blows water from his mouth over his symbolic mountains while he prays for rain. The analogue symbolism of the ritual is self-explanatory. The question arises whether the DGB sites had a regional reach beyond the Mandara mountains and whether they played any role in the emerging Wandala state in Kirawa. One wonders whether the deteriorating climate is as crucial as David suggests in his scenario, or whether we also need to consider the impact of emerging state-level societies in the adjacent plains as being equally inspiring. The increasing number of finds foreign to the DGB area seems to suggest something like this. The relevant extracts from the available early sources do not serve to enlighten us further, although we could perhaps link Anania’s black and redlined onyx (quartz) to the DGB sites.30 Conclusion An attempt has been made to contextualise the DGB sites with what we have discovered about the preThis is a semi-ironic point, especially since there seem always to have been rumours that something precious could be found in the Mandara mountains. This feeling was intensified in colonial times, presumably in the light of some of the early sources, but it has also appeared among locals more recently. I was for example criticised in 1986 by a local Mafa politician for appearing excited about DGB-1, since people would think that gold might be found inside. 30

colonial history in the wider region of the north-western Mandara mountains. We have used specific aspects of the DGB sites, their sophisticated dry stone walling but particularly the pots with small apertures, to compare with the ethnographic record of similarly accomplished stone architecture as well as pots which we found in the Gwoza hills area. We have established that in the Gwoza hills pots with small apertures are kept behind ceremonial walls with particularly smooth facades near granary areas and that they are used as ancestor pots in the context of rituals of reproduction. We have tried to explain why such pots are found not only in the hills but also in the adjacent plains, and have argued that Lamang speaking groups might have occupied the north-western mountains prior to the incoming Wandala speaking groups. We have identified a tradition of northwards migration out of the DGB area, which points to the Gwoza hills, with the so-called Godaliy as the builder of the sites. Unfortunately this tradition is not known in the Gwoza hills themselves, although the main migratory tradition, the so-called Tur tradition, can be linked to a general northwards movement in the north-western Mandara mountains. There is an existing geographical dichotomy in the Wandala language group, showing a strong linguistic similarity with the Bura language group, although the latter live to the southwest of our area. In view of significant ethnographic and geographical evidence for spatial proximity, we have decided to adhere to Wolff’s Lamang-Wandala “convenience group”, but further linguistic research is needed to clarify the true state of affairs. We first reported early historical sources which mentioned Mandara and Kirawa, as well as early reports referring to the typical landscape structure of Borno. We established that such reports speak of Kirawa as a centre for the iron trade, which is somehow linked to the mountains nearby. We also found an early 16th century literary depiction of the mountain populations to be particularly “primitive”, as opposed to “civilised”, meaning the populations of the plains. Finally, we briefly examined the founding legend of the Wandala dynasty as recorded in the early 19th century by the Wandala chronicles, and found a significant emphasis on the symbolic function of water as a spiritual agent, similar to today’s non-Islamic beliefs in the area. We also established a struggle for dynastic legitimacy which can be structurally compared with the Mafa attempt to ritually incorporate smaller lineages for the sake of population size. In summary: there is much evidence which makes the DGB sites a genuine event in an emerging montagnard civilisation, not only in their possible function as centres of rituals of reproduction, but possibly also as inspired by the developing pre-Islamic Wandala state of Kirawa as a centre of regional trade. References Barkindo, B.M. 1989. The Sultanate of Mandara to 1902: History of the evolution, development and collapse of a central Sudanese kingdom. Studien zur Kulturkunde 91. Franz Steiner Verlag, Stuttgart. 136

Contextualising the DGB sites of northern Cameroon Beek, van, W.E.A. 1978. Bierbrouwers in de Bergen: De Kapsiki en Higi van Noord-Kameroen en Noord-Oost Nigeria. ICAU Mededeline 12, Instituut voor Culturele Anthropologie, Utrecht. Beek, van, W.E.A. 1987. The Kapsiki of the Mandara hills. Waveland Press, Inc. Prospect Heights, Illinois. David, N., Muller-Kosack, G. 2002. “Strongholds of northern Cameroon.” http://www.mandaras.info/StrongholdsNCameroon/ index.htm. David, N., Muller-Kosack, G., Sterner, J. 2003. “The DGB sites of North Cameroon: watch or water towers?” http://www.mandaras.info/DGB_NCameroon/index. htm. David, N., et al. 2008. Performance and Agency: The DGB sites of northern Cameroon. British Archaeological Reports International Series 1830. Evans, J. 1970. A History of Jewellery, 1100-1870. Faber & Faber. Falchetta, P. 2006. Fra Mauro’s World Map: with a commentary and translations of the inscription. Presentation by Marino Zorzi. CD-ROM Project: Circle, team headed by Caterina Balletti. Terrarum Orbis 5. Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, Venezia. Forkl, H. 1995. Politik zwischen den Zeilen: Arabische Handschriften der Wandala in Nordkamerun. Deutscharabische Texte, übersetzt und herausgegeben, Kommentar und Chronologien von Hermann Forkl, unter Mitarbeit von Reinhard Weipart. Islamkundliche Untersuchungen 194, Klaus Schwarz Verlag, Berlin. Gravina, R. 2007. Classification and Reconstruction in Chadic Biu Mandara A. Topics in Chadic Linguistics III, Historical Studies, ed. Henry Tourneux, Chadic Languages, 4, 37-91. Rüdiger Köppe Verlag, Köln. Hall, J.E.B. 1934 “Languages of Gwoza and Ashigashiya District, Dikwa Division,” Nigerian National Archives (Gwoza District: 10-H/34/8), Kaduna. Henige, D. 1988. Oral Historiography. Longman. Lange, D. 1987. A Sudanic Chronicle: the Borno Expeditions of Idris Alauma (1564-1576). Studien zur Kulturkunde 86, Franz Steiner Verlag, Wiesbaden. Lange, D. and S. Berthoud. 1972. L’intérieur de l’Afrique Occidentale d’après Giovanni Lorenzo Anania (XVIe siècle). UNESCO: Cahiers d’Histoire Mondiale, Vol. XIV,1: 298-352, Neuchatel. Lewis, P.E. 1925. “Customs and mode of life among the hill pagans”, Nigerian National Archives (Gwoza District: 83A-1925), Kaduna. MacEachern, S. 1993. Selling the iron for their shackles: Wandala-montanard interactions in northern Cameroon. Journal of African History, 34, 247-270. MacEachern, S. & N. David. 2008. Conclusion: the DGB culture in broader context. In N. David, Performance and Agency: The DGB sites of northern Cameroon. British Archaeological Reports International Series 1830, 142-146. MacEachern, S., Djoussou, J-M.D. and R. Janson-Lapierre. (in press). Research at DGB-1, northern Cameroon,

2008. Nyame Akuma. MacFarlane, B.M. 1932. “Social organisation, customs and languages of the hill tribes. Extract from report on the hill district - Dikwa Division”, Nigerian National Archives (MaidProv-1035C), Kaduna.   Maley, J. & N. David. 2008. Climate and DGB times. In N. David, Performance and Agency: The DGB sites of northern Cameroon. British Archaeological Reports International Series 1830, 112-113. Mathews, A.B. 1934. “Reorganisation of Madagali District in conjunction with Bornu Province”, Nigerian National Archives (YolaProv-2301), Kaduna. Mohammadou, E. 1982. Le royaume du Wandala ou Mandara au XIXe siècle. African Languages and Ethnography XIV, Institute for the study of languages and cultures of Asia and Africa (ILCAA). Muller-Kosack, G. 1988. Sakrale Töpfe der Mafa (Nordkamerun) und ihre kulträumliche Dimension. Paideuma, 34, 91-118. Muller-Kosack, G. 1991. Zur Siedlungsstruktur der Mafa (Nord-Kamerun). Paideuma, 37, 105-140. Muller-Kosack, G. “Fieldnotes from the Gwoza hills – November and December 1994.” Unpublished manuscript in author’s possession. Muller-Kosack, G. 1996. The Dghweɗe in NE-Nigeria: montagnards interacting with the seasons. Berichte des Sonderforschungsbereichs 268, 8, 137-170. Muller-Kosack, G. 1997a. Water and the Mafa. Man and water in the Lake Chad basin. Séminaire du Réseau Méga-Tchad, Frankfurt, 1993. Muller-Kosack, G. 1997b. “The Mandara Mountains Homepage: Ethnic groups.” http://www.mandaras. info/EthnicGroups.html. Muller-Kosack, G. 2001. “Photographic images and map of the Mondouza and neighbouring strongholds”. Unpublished report in author’s possession. Muller-Kosack, G. 2003. The Way of the Beer: ritual re-enactment of history among the Mafa. Terrace farmers of the Mandara mountains (North Cameroon). Mandaras Publishing, London. Muller-Kosack, G. 2004. “DGB sites and the ‘Godaliy’: funnel pots and ceremonial walling.” http://www. mandaras.info/DGB-Godaliy_Research/index.htm Muller-Kosack, G. 2008. Concepts and migrations. In N. David, Performance and Agency: The DGB sites of northern Cameroon. British Archaeological Reports International Series 1830, 115-119. Muller-Kosack, G. 2009. Comparing migratory traditions: archaeological and ethnographic findings in the Mandara mountains. Migrations et mobilité dans le basin du lac Tchad, Maroua 2005, Collection Colloques et Séminaires, 97-115 (CD-ROM). Muller-Kosack, G. 2010. Summary and ethnographic evaluation of Rauchenberger’s (1999) Johannes Leo der Afrikaner: with special emphasis on the montanari of Borno. Electronic ISBN Publication, Mandaras Publishing, www.mandaras.info. Muller-Kosack, G. in preparation. “Dghweɗe field materials, 1995-2010.” Book on transformations in

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Dghweɗe society. Manuscript in author’s possession. Newman, P. 1977. Chadic classification and reconstructions. Afroasiatic Linguistics 5, 1, 1-42. Rauchenberger, D. 1999. Johannes Leo der Afrikaner: seine Beschreibung des Raumes zwischen Nil und Niger, nach dem Urtext. Orientalia Biblica et Christiana 13, Harrassowitz Verlag. Seignobos, C. 1982. Notes sur ‘les ruines du Mudkwa’ en pay Mafa. Revue Géographique du Cameroun, 3, 4145. Sterner, J. 2003. The ways of the Mandara mountains: a comparative regional approach. Westafrikanische Studien, 28. Rüdiger Köppe Verlag, Köln. Vansina, J. 1961. De la Tradition Orale: Essai de Methode Historique. Musée Royal De L’Afrique Centrale. Tervuren.

Vansina, J. 1985. Oral Tradition as History. James Currey. London. Wolff, E. 1974. Neue linguistische Forschungen in Nordostnigeria. Afrika und Übersee, 18, 7-27. Dietrich Reimer Verlag, Hamburg. Wolff, E. 2004. Segments and Prosodies in Chadic: On Descriptive and Explanatory Adequacy, Historical Reconstructions, and the Status of Lamang-Hdi. Proceedings of the 4 th World Congress of African Linguistics, New Brunswick 2003, 43-65. Wolff, E. 2007. Reduplication, Aspect, and Predication Focus in Central Chadic: What Lamang and Hdi tell about Malgwa verb morphology. Topics in Chadic Linguistics IV, Comparative and Descriptive Studies, ed. Henry Tourneux. Chadic Linguistics, 5, 129-155. Rüdiger Köppe Verlag, Köln.

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Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan: excavation of the mound at Adesina Oja in the Archaeological Reserve Philip Allsworth-Jones

Department of Archaeology, University of Sheffield, Sheffield S1 4ET. [email protected]

Abstract A mound associated with the village of Adesina Oja was excavated in 1980-1986, and the results of the excavations are described here. Essentially the material recovered relates to the early part of the 20th century and it reflects the history of the time, as seen in a small agricultural community in the vicinity of a large African metropolis. Much light on the interpretation of the remains was shed by means of ethnographic enquiry in nearby villages and elsewhere. The utility of this approach is demonstrated. The pattern of continuity and change observed in this community is consonant with the larger changes in Yoruba society at the time, changes which are well documented in Ibadan itself, especially for the period after the imposition of colonial rule in 1893. Key words: IITA, Ibadan, ethnographic enquiry, Yoruba society

Introduction When the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture was established on a site north of Ibadan in south-western Nigeria in 1970, an Archaeological Reserve was created on its territory, thanks to an initiative by Professor Thurstan Shaw. The circumstances of its creation have been outlined in a previous article (Allsworth-Jones, 2004). That article dealt primarily with the various experiments set up in the Reserve, and in particular with the structural decay experiment and the excavations of abandoned house No. 2, which were conducted by the Department of Archaeology and Anthropology of the University of Ibadan in the years 1980-1986. At that time an excavation was also carried out on a midden mound near the entrance to the Reserve, and the purpose of the present paper is to report fully on the results of that excavation. Figure 1 shows the position of IITA in relation to the city of Ibadan, with the approximate boundary of the city as it was in 1981 (ed. Filani, 1982). Figure 2 is a map of IITA showing the position of the Reserve on the west bank of the territory (Allsworth-Jones, 2004: 127, note 1). The reserve enclosed the once flourishing village of Adesina Oja and the mound will also have been part of that village. As explained previously, the excavations at IITA took place annually over a period of seven years, for a total of 73 days in all, primarily as a training exercise for students (April 1980, January 1981, April 1982, June-July 1983, April 1984, March 1985, and February 1986). A 12 metre long trench was dug into the mound, as indicated in Figure 3. The width of the trench was 1.5 metres, and each of the four main squares (C1-4) was 2 metres in length, with intervening baulks each 1 metre in length (from the outer edge of the mound as follows: C2 extension, C1/C2, C2/C3, and C3/C4). Each square was recorded independently. In every case, the first 5 cm was regarded as topsoil. Thereafter, excavation proceeded by means of

arbitrary 10 cm levels. The maximum depth of deposit, in square C4, was about 1.75 metres. As shown on the plan, two complete sample columns were also excavated on the northern edge of squares C1 and C3/C4. The block from C2 extension to C1 was excavated in 1980-1983, and the block from C1/C3 to C4 in 1984-1986 (hence the numbering). The artefacts recovered each year were inventoried in the classroom, and a number of reports on the material remains were prepared by undergraduate and postgraduate students of the University, under the supervision of the author. The results are summarised here. On the basis of coin evidence, among other things, it is likely that the occupation of the village extended throughout the early part of the 20th century, up to the establishment of IITA. It therefore witnessed the growth of colonial and early postcolonial Ibadan, a city which by 1973 had more than a million inhabitants (ed. Filani, 1982), and it is instructive to ask what the remains can tell us about the life of the people at that time. Much light was shed on their significance by means of ethnographic enquiry. Stratigraphy and sample column 1 The stratigraphy of the mound is shown in Figure 4. The north section is the most complete and suitable for general reference purposes. The topsoil consisted of a thin black crumbly earth horizon, beneath which came what is here distinguished as a surface layer, extending over the whole mound. In general this was made up of quite soft ashy material (5 YR 3/3 dark reddish brown) but as the mound tailed off at the edge it became more stony (5 YR 3/4). Beneath this layer, the deposits essentially fall into two parts laterally, an inner and an outer part, the junction between the two being marked in square C1/C3. Although the inner part is thicker and presumably indicates a greater length of occupation, it appears from the overlapping of 139

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Figure 1: IITA in relation to the city of Ibadan the layers in square C1/C3 that the more peripheral lower deposits may actually be older. Beneath a reddish black ashy band in this part (10 R 2.5/1) there is a reddish brown lower unit (5 YR 4/3). In the inner part of the mound, a substantial upper unit appears, which is characterised as yellowish red (5 YR 5/6). This layer actually has distinct lighter and darker bands, is more or less gravelly, and is quite hard and compacted. As in the case of the other layers, it is interrupted by charcoal lenses, and there are signs of termite activity. The lower unit is analogous to the one in the outer part, but has a slightly different hue (5 YR 4/4). A red subsoil (2.5 YR 4/6) provides a common base. It is obvious that all these deposits are anthropogenic, the accumulated remains of rubbish deposited over many years. According to the reports which the undergraduates prepared at the end of the dig each year, the appearance of the mound is consistent with Yoruba refuse dumping habits, whereby the tendency will be to carry the rubbish (particularly ash) to the centre of the mound, where from time to time it will be burnt. The centre of the mound could

of course have shifted over time. An indication as to the approximate age of the deposits is given by the presence of four coins: a penny dated 1959 in the topsoil of C1/C2, and three tenths of a penny, dated 1934 (C1/C2 level 4), 1931 (C1/C3 level 2), and 1928 (C2 level 5). Depending on the assumed speed of deposition, it seems likely that the mound came into existence at about the beginning of the 20th century. It will be observed that there is an anomalous feature cut into the south section corresponding to the upper part of the deposits in C3 and extending slightly into C1/C3. The profile alone reveals that this was a very regularly cut pit, which we were surprised to detect on 24 June 1983, when we discovered a layer of small plastic bags at a depth of about 90 cm from datum. The feature, which continues into the south wall of the section, was carefully examined both then and at the beginning of the dig in 1984. In orientation the intrusive pit was skewed slightly to the south-west in comparison with our own trench. The

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Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan

Figure 2: The Archaeological Reserve at IITA

Figure 3: The excavated mound at IITA 141

Figure 4: The stratigraphy of the mound at IITA

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Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan

Figure 5: IITA C1 Sample Column sediment characteristics precision of the trench and the fact that it was lined at the base with plastic bags indicated that this was a professional endeavour of some kind, not in any way connected with the original formation of the mound. In fact it looks very archaeological. I contacted Thurstan Shaw and Steve Daniels about the matter, but neither of them was able to throw any light on it (in litt., 31 August, 11 September, and 18 October 1983). The existence of this pit must mean that the material in the upper part of C3 has been disturbed, but there was still plenty of it, such that our suspicions were not aroused until we came to the layer of plastic bags. If this was an archaeological endeavour, it was a strange one, and as Thurstan Shaw said, it is all “quite a mystery”. The material below the level of the plastic bags was not disturbed at all, so this incident must remain as another example of the problems arising from lack of continuity in the investigation of the site, already referred to elsewhere (Allsworth-Jones, 2004). The sample column at the north-east edge of square C1 was exhaustively studied by O.A. Eguaroje (1987) with the assistance of Drs J. Pleysier and R. Lal (Analytical Services and Physics Laboratories, IITA) and Mr J. Omotosho (Palynological Laboratory, University of Ibadan). The depth of the column was 105 cm, with 11 samples each 10 cm thick, except for the topmost (5 cm); they were numbered 1-11 from the top down. During the sedimentological analysis, each sample was divided into eight size categories and graphed cumulatively, but the results can be summarised in terms of the percentage weight occurrence of gravel (≥2mm) sand (≥63μ) and silt and clay (76% of all the finds. In general, the impression derived from all the finds is one of homogeneity, but that does not mean that there were no changes over time, nor that deposition necessarily proceeded at a uniform pace. The fact that excavation was carried out by levels allows us to use only a rough yardstick to measure possible changes in rate of deposition, but some idea may be obtained by looking at the record for square C4, summarised in the table below and shown graphically at Figure 8. For concision, two succeeding levels have been merged together all down the stratigraphic column, except in the case of the basal level 16, giving us nine units in all. IITA C4 Finds by level As can be seen, two peaks of distribution can be noted, an upper one concentrated in levels 2 and 3, and a lower one culminating in levels 14 and 15. This is no more than an indication that there may have been various phases of more or less intensive usage of this mound. An analysis of the main categories of material deposited in the mound will now be given.

Indigenous pottery As noted above, locally made pottery accounts for the majority of the finds made on site. A detailed study of the pottery from square C4 was undertaken by J.O. Aleru, with the assistance of P.G. Ajekigbe, and it is considered that this gives a representative view of the nature of the assemblage as a whole (Aleru, 1988). Altogether there are 442 rims and 3174 body sherds from this square. The determination of what vessel types were present was carried out primarily by reference to the rim forms, and also by comparison to the wares currently being manufactured at four pottery centres not far from Ibadan: Fiditi, Oyo, Awe, and Ilora. Only 231 rims were considered suitable for detailed study, the remaining rim sherds being too small for meaningful division into types. Of these, 156 are classified as pots and 75 as bowls. The basic division into pots (depth>width) and bowls (width>depth) is metrical, but corresponds to Yoruba usage. Six broad categories of vessels (3 pots and 3 bowls) were determined, some of which could be further subdivided, as shown below, and in Figure 9. Pots Bowls

A ìkòkò A agbada

35 44

B kete B ìsaasùn

1 C-J ape 25 C àwo-Ifa

120 6

The names and functions of the categories (most of which are very well known) were established by ethnographic enquiry. Apart from Aleru’s account, additional information can be found elsewhere (e.g., Fatunsin 1992, Allsworth-Jones 1996; Wakeman 1950, Abraham 1958).

IITA C4 Finds by Level Rim sherds plain Rim sherds dec Body sherds plain Body sherds dec Other sherds Imported ceramics Iron fragments Iron artefacts Other metal artefacts Bottles and glass Pipe stems and bowls Beads Cowries Grinding stones Miscellaneous Bones and teeth Snail shells total

top+1 17 8 82 106 3 23 1 1 6 2 3 2 4 4 7 7 276

2+3 28 34 132 180 7 69 52 5

4+5 8 17 98 207

3 5 4 7 6 1 53 30 616

4 12 1 12 1

6+7 13 15 112 145 1 36 74 2 2 3 4 3 6 2

31 28 567

27 29 474

45 100 3

146

8+9 26 24 95 172 2 50 49 5 1 4 6 7 13 7 2 56 22 541

10+11 26 33 124 217 3 48 107 1 5 11 10 19 3 2 68 21 698

12+13 29 49 277 330 4 35 9 5 1 6 6 3 39 3 1 26 57 880

14+15 33 67 395 347 4 2 3

16 7 8 79 76 2

1 9 1 4 15 32 913

1

1 4 178

Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan

Figure 9: IITA C4 Pot and Bowl Types

The characteristics of the six types of pots and bowls are briefly as follows.

from IITA must have been made in Shaki or Ilorin, both well known centres of manufacture for this type of vessel.

Ìkòkò. These are generally large heavy pots, the capacity of which according to Aleru may reach up to 70 litres. As Fatunsin says, once they have been put into position, they are rarely moved. They serve many purposes, including storage and the processing of root crops such as cassava and yam. They are also used in local industries, such as soap making and dyeing.

àwo-Ifa. The term àwo literally means a dish or basin (Abraham 1958) but this type of vessel is used for ritual purposes, in this case for Ifa divination. Aleru (1988, Plate 5) illustrates a complete example from Ilora, with an inverted rim, a marked carination, and internal separation walls. The locally made pottery discovered at IITA, as detailed above, is overwhelmingly utilitarian in character, but this is the exception.

Kete. This is defined by Aleru as a small globular pot used for drawing water. The larger water storage pots (àmù) are akin to ìkòkò but have narrower mouths (Abraham 1958; Fatunsin 1992, Plate 51). Ape. The pots included in this category are quite varied (divided into 7 sub-types C-J by Aleru). Their capacity in litres is estimated between 3 and 15. They are essentially used for cooking, either yam or cassava flour (ape okà/ àmàlà) or yams themselves (ape isu) (Fatunsin 1992, Plate 42). Agbada. This can be defined as a shallow flared bowl, in different sizes depending on function. As Fatunsin says, the smaller type may be used for frying àkàrà (bean cakes) whereas the larger one may be used for frying gàrí (cassava flour). As Aleru puts it, the common feature which these containers possess is that they permit the free movement of the hand within the vessel. Ìsaasùn. Bowls of this type have long been established in Yorubaland (Allsworth-Jones 1996). Made with or without lids, they have flared rims and carinated shoulders (Fatunsin 1992, Plates 46 and 47). Characteristically they are used for cooking soup or stew. Aleru’s informant in Fiditi told him that the examples which he showed her

Apart from the analysis of the rim forms, the type of decoration present on these rims was also noted, and some metrical characteristics were determined. The latter exercise was carried out by the author at the University of Cambridge, using the SPSS program available at that time on the Computing Service’s mainframe system (Phoenix/ MVS). Thanks are due to St. John’s College Cambridge for granting me a Visiting Research Fellowship for the autumn term of 1987, during which this work was accomplished. So far as decoration is concerned, Aleru (1988) established that six main types were represented, as shown below, and graphically in Figure 10. 1 2 3 4 5 6

decoration types plain and burnished twisted cord maize cob groove ridge incision total

pots 95 36 9 9 4 3 156

bowls 61 2

12 75

total 156 38 9 9 4 15 231

The bowls clearly are mainly plain and burnished, and if body sherds were included the same is likely to be true. The pots show a greater variety of decoration and again the 147

Figure 10. IITA C4 Decoration Types: Pots and Bowls

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

Figure 10: IITA C4 Decoration Types: Pots and Bowls

same is true of the body sherds. Nonetheless the patterns are relatively simple. Both twisted cord and maize cob are roulettes, and grooves or incisions are made using a variety of instruments ready to hand. The metrical characteristics analysed were confined to thickness and diameter (the latter established on a slightly reduced data set). The thickness of the pots ranged from 0.6 to 4.1 cm, that for the bowls from 0.5 to 1.8 cm, the combined histogram being distinctly bimodal (Aleru 1988, Figure 35). The diameter of the pots ranged from 12 to 44 cm, that for the bowls from 18 to 36 cm. In this case, the combined histogram is essentially unimodal (Aleru 1988, Figure 43). The calculated parameters reflect this distribution. The means and standard deviations for the thickness of pots and bowls respectively were as follows: pots 1.69 ± 0.59 cm, bowls 0.99 ± 0.38 cm. The corresponding figures for the diameters were: pots 26.25 ± 5.20 cm, bowls 26.68 ± 4.39 cm. The difference between the means for thickness is statistically significant, whereas that for the diameters is not. The figures for correlation of thickness and diameter (r) were positive both for pots and bowls, but more so for the former, with the values as follows: pots .7340 (df 145) bowls .5236 (df 66).

114 items are classified as “other sherds”. Prominent among them are fragments of what are commonly referred to as “bush lamps” or fìtílà. As remarked by Fatunsin (1992: 50) these are shallow lipped bowls with ringed pedestals. A wick is placed in the bowl to absorb oil (usually palm oil or shea butter) for burning. Fìtílà generally have one lip but can have as many as 40, in which case it is assumed they were used for ritual purposes (Fatunsin 1992, Plate 49). The Yoruba name for these lamps is derived from Hausa and ultimately from Arabic fatila meaning “wick” (Abraham 1958). Metal artefacts The metal artefacts from the entire trench were studied by Aminat Audu (1990) and conservation measures were applied to them in the Archaeology Laboratory at the University of Ibadan. An inventory of 149 objects, divided into eight functional categories, was established, as shown below and in Figure 11. building materials subsistence economy household purposes body adornment ritual objects coins miscellaneous slag total

Although archaeologists spend much time on such things as decoration and metrical characteristics, Aleru’s conclusion is fair enough, that in general neither were decisive for classification purposes in this case. On the contrary, “without the advantage of ethnographic information it would have been difficult to attribute accurate or meaningful significance to the archaeologically analyzed vessel forms” (Aleru 1988: 210). 148

49 14 27 19 8 4 17 11 149

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Figure 11. IITA Metal Artefacts

Figure 11: IITA Metal Artefacts

Figure 12. IITA Faunal Remains

Not included were unidentified iron fragments, of which there were 607 in total. It is likely that these objects were for the most part fragments of house roofing sheets. Building materials, principally nails and window hooks, with a few washers and hinges, also constitute the main identified category. The window hooks are of the kind for use with wooden shutters, not glass. Objects connected with the subsistence economy suggest both agriculture (matchets, cutlasses, and hoes) and hunting and fishing (parts of traps, a fish hook, and two parts of a dane gun – a barrel end and a trigger, both found in square C1/C2 level 4). An iron hook was instantly recognised by the students as a harvesting device (gògò): this may be used for plucking any kind of fruit from a tree, but is particularly associated with cocoa farming. Objects meant for household purposes are numerous (including knives, forks, and spoons, as well as enamel plated bowls) as are items of body adornment. The latter include buckles, bangles, ear rings, and normal finger rings, as well as 3 fragments of a characteristic tìróò container. Tìróò is galena (lead sulphide) which is ground into a smooth powder on a special grinding stone and applied to the eyelids as a cosmetic. 8 rings were singled out by Audu as different from the others and were termed ritual objects. They are of two types. Some are iron rings, thin and dark and spirally twisted; these are said to be constantly worn as a protection against evil spirits. Others are of non-ferrous metal; they are thick and light in colour, and are said to be put on when needed, for the alleviation of pain caused by such things as snake bites or scorpion stings. Both testify to a belief in supernatural powers characteristic of African traditional religion. Further strong evidence for the existence of such beliefs

was provided at the beginning of the excavation in 1980 when some objects were found close together in square C1 level 2. A ground stone axe (àáké) and a pebble had been placed inside two fragmentary bowls (one of them an ìsaasùn). The significance of this occurrence was instantly recognised by the students: this was a sacrificial offering (ebo) made to the Yoruba gods (òrìsà) such as would be left on a rubbish heap (ààtàn). “All this notwithstanding the fact that, as we know, there was a mosque in the small village and formally speaking most of the inhabitants are likely to have been Moslems” (Audu 1990: 42). Reference has already been made to the coins. 11 pieces of slag were found, as in the house (Allsworth-Jones, 2004), and this presumably indicates the nearby presence of blacksmithing. The remainder of the finds were lumped together as miscellaneous, after Audu had, as she said, done her best to “solve the solvables”. They are random items such as pieces of wire, nuts and bolts, fragments of springs, and other objects the purpose of which remains uncertain. Imported ceramics, bottles and glass The imported ceramics from trench C4 (and from the house) were studied by Kit Wesler (1992) and a comparison was made between them and those recovered from the University of Ibadan excavations at ISI (International School Ibadan) (Andah et al., 1992). He also made a similar study in respect of the imported bottles and glass. Altogether, in trench C4 there were 310 imported ceramic fragments, of which it is estimated that 171 were undecorated whitewares, 136 were decorated whitewares,

149

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives and 3 were porcelain. Porcelain appeared only in the upper levels. The same varieties were present in the house. In general, the picture is similar to that obtained at ISI, and the same interpretation offered by Kit Wesler applies. That is, these imported products when they first appeared were quickly adopted, but their numbers then stabilised at a relatively small percentage of the total pottery inventory. It is as though there was only a certain level of demand, or that only a certain set of functional roles was envisaged for these vessels. Ethnographic enquiry reveals what these factors may have been. Glazed vessels such as these were for serving, not for cooking or other everyday tasks, for which traditional pottery was well suited. They were essentially prestige items, brought out on special occasions, or made for display. Inevitably therefore there was a ceiling level of demand for them. To some extent the same is true of bottles and glass, although Wesler’s students informed him that bottles were recognised as having a distinct utility, being the only kind of container that rats could not eat through. In trench C4 there were 31 pieces of glass: 12 green, 10 clear, 1 other colour, 4 flat, and 4 special forms. By “special forms” is meant decorative bowls and other containers of that type, of which some were recognized in this trench and elsewhere. As Wesler remarks, flat glass is usually taken to indicate windows, but in this case is more likely to represent mirrors or picture frames. The same general pattern of adoption and usage applies as in the case of imported ceramics. Other recognised categories Pipe stems and bowls. Tobacco was introduced into West Africa by the Portuguese (Ojo 1966: 55) and has proved popular with the Yoruba, although the students regarded pipe smoking as essentially the prerogative of older men. Pipes (ìkòkò tábà) might be either imported or of local manufacture. Beads. Beads generally are known as ìlèkè, but those found at IITA are of at least two types. On the one hand there are small disc beads referred to as bèbè, such as were encountered in the sample column. These are worn by women around their waist. As one of the students put it, the contour created and the sound produced is “enough to attract any normal man”. On the other hand, there are larger heavier beads, usually tubular, which may be made of coral (iyùn) or stone (Ojo 1966: 259-260), and which might be worn by women or men. Cowries. As the name in Yoruba indicates (owó-eyo) these were originally employed as currency, but are now ubiquitous both as decoration and as ritual objects. Grinding stones. Both upper and lower grinding stones (omo-olo and ìyá-olo) are standard parts of Yoruba traditional household equipment. Miscellaneous Some of the items included under this heading, such as

the many pieces of burnt clay which have an apparent anthropogenic origin, do not merit any particular commentary, but others do. Apart from the stone axe and pebble which formed part of the sacrificial offering found in square C1 layer 2, there were also 2 gun flints (òkúta-ibon) and 3 pieces of slate (síléètì). The latter term is derived from English (Abraham 1958) and implies that this was an item used in the school room; it may be compared with the slate prayer board (wàla) found in the house (Allsworth-Jones 2004). The latter term is derived from Hausa and ultimately from Arabic (al-lauhu)(Abraham 1958). There were also 2 pieces of sulphur and 1 of calcium carbide (CaC2). Sulphur (imí ojo or imí òrùn) is said to be used for treating eczema. Calcium carbide, as described by Audu (1990, Plate 2b), was and is used for illumination in hunters’ lamps. There were several items of plastic, as in the house. Among other things, they included a collar stud, which the students immediately assumed indicated the presence of “elite” persons such as teachers or lawyers. A tezbah-imam clearly indicates the presence of the Moslem religion. A tezbiu is a set of 99 beads (representing the same number of Divine attributes) divided into sets by three larger beads, one of which is this one (Bargery 1934). All these terms are of Hausa and ultimately Arabic derivation. There were also a number of buttons, and a mass of powder which turned out on examination to be “Robin Blue”, a fabric whitener still common in Ibadan today. Finally it should be mentioned that a human tooth was found in square C3 level 10, i.e., in undisturbed deposits beneath the intrusive pit. This is a right first maxillary molar, which was kindly studied by Dr A.S. Richardson (University of British Columbia, then on a visit to UI). It is described as large, with extensive root divergence. Crown breadth: mesial-distal 10.50 buccal-lingual 12.65 mm. Crown length: buccal 5.60 lingual 3.60 mesial 4.00 distal 3.85 mm. Root length: mesial 15.50 distal 16.30 lingual 16.30 mm. Maximum buccal-lingual root divergence 16.65 mm. Calculus present, caries none. Occlusal wear was smooth, even, slightly more on the lingual side. Dr Richardson commented that wear of this type is common in communities with a “basic” diet, i.e. , without commercial soft mushy foods, as he put it. Fauna In the total inventory table, the faunal remains are grouped together as “bones and teeth” and “snail shells”, amounting to 791 and 623 items respectively. These remains were the subject of two detailed studies by B.B. Adekoya (1983) and Benedicta Omokhua (1990). Adekoya studied the remains from the years 1980 to 1982 and Omokhua those from 1983 to 1985, the respective totals excluding shells coming to 211 and 580. Both authors received assistance from staff members of the Zoology and Veterinary Departments of the University of Ibadan, and Adekoya also had help from the Ministry of Agriculture in Ijebu-Ode in connection with his visit to the abattoir there. The totals of the species

150

Figure 12. IITA Faunal Remains

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Figure 12: IITA Faunal Remains represented (NISP - number of identified specimens - not MNI -minimum number of individuals), excluding shells, are shown below, and in diagram form at Figure 12. Bos sp

256

Capra sp

154

Ovis sp

182

Equus caballus

9

Canis familiaris

13

Felis sp

5

Gallus sp

11

Lepus sp

2

Cricetomys gambianus Rattus rattus Thryonomys swinderianus

63

Graphiurus sp Cephalophus maxwelli Cephalophus rufilatus Tragelaphus scriptus Gazella sp

5 6 2 10 3

Syncerus sp

1

Cercopithecus sp Francolinus bicalcaratus

4

Pisces

1

1

45 18

total

791

The great majority of the shells undoubtedly belonged to Archachatina marginata, the Giant West African Snail or ìgbín in Yoruba. Its use in West Africa goes back a long time, since numerous specimens were found at Iwo Eleru. As McMillan (1984) remarked, “the species is used for food in Nigeria at the present time and forms a valuable source of protein”. The students noted that it was also used for medicinal and religious purposes, and the shells could be employed for example as scraping tools in the pot manufacturing process. Adekoya recognised one other species, Limnea truncatula, but there were probably more than this. The students used other names for some shells found, all of which are recorded in Abraham (1958), according to whether they were large, small, or river

varieties: ikarahun (large); eèsòn, òkòtó, àkòsìn, ìlákòsè, ìpèrè (small); ìsawùrú (riverine). A specialised study would be needed to carry this matter further. Adekoya also recognised the carapace of one river crab, Potamon sp., and for present purposes this has been counted with the shells, since the rest of the remains are vertebrates. From the table above, it is clear that the majority of the species represented are domestic animals. Cattle, sheep, and goats alone account for 70% of the total. Adekoya draws attention to the importance of an observation made by Bascom (1951a: 42) in this regard. As he said “in earlier days meat was a food for ceremonies and special occasions” in Yorubaland. But “from 1936 through 1940, 70,000-100,000 head of cattle and an equal number of sheep annually crossed the Jebba bridge over the Niger River on hoof”, and these animals could be purchased en route. Later a thriving cattle market was established in Sango (Lloyd et al., 1967) and meat ceased to be a luxury. Other domestic animals make up a further 5% of the total. As Adekoya remarks, horses and donkeys were used mainly as beasts of burden, and horses usually signified wealth. Dogs were hardly ever eaten, at least in the Ibadan area. The cats may have been feral but will not have been wild. Domestic fowl were and are very important, but, as Adekoya says, their remains here are likely to be under-represented because of the Yoruba habit of “bonechewing”, a habit which may bias the collection in other ways. There are no wild rabbits in West Africa (Booth 1960, Dorst and Dandelot 1972) hence the lagomorph remains here are likely to belong to the domestic rabbit Oryctolagus. The remaining 25% of the total are wild, but of these three species alone (Cricetomys gambianus, Rattus rattus, and 151

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Thryonomys swinderianus) account for 16%, whereas the rest are represented by only a few specimens each. This is no accident, since at least two of the rodents (the giant rat, and the cutting grass or cane rat) are a popular food item and are relatively easy to trap. The small dormouse (Graphiurus sp) is not likely to have been eaten. It seems that the two duikers (Cephalophus maxwelli and rufilatus) could once have been indigenous to this area and the same is true of the bushbuck (Tragelaphus scriptus) (Dorst and Dandelot 1972, Happold 1973). The same is not true of the gazelle (probably Gazella rufifrons); as Omokhua suggests, it may possibly have been brought along by herdsmen who came to sell their cattle. The buffalo (Syncerus sp) and the monkey (Cercopithecus sp) are also rare and somewhat surprising finds, the latter consisting of four skull fragments found together in square C3/C4 level 14. Finally, there are single remains of a francolin or “bush fowl” (Francolinus bicalcaratus) and an unidentified fish (Pisces) although this may be what the students claimed in the field to be a catfish (àrò). It is clear from the foregoing that this was more of a farming than a hunting community. From his study of the bones, Adekoya established that the cows sheep and goats had very likely been slaughtered according to systematic procedures common in Yorubaland. These procedures were observed and recorded by Adekoya at the abattoir in Ijebu-Ode, as at Figure 13, which shows (by numerals) the sequence of events followed in the slaughtering and flaying of a cow. The broken lines indicate surface cuts, whilst the heavy lines are for deep/total cuts. By contrast the butchering signs on the dog bones recovered are consistent with the indiscriminate use of a matchet, such as would have been employed when preparing a sacrifice for Ogun, the Yoruba god of iron and war. Adekoya (1983: 52) justifiably concluded that there was “a relationship between what was recovered and present day Yoruba practices”. Of course it is obvious, as Adekoya emphasised, that the more easily recovered animal remains presented here do not tell the whole story about the inhabitants’ diet, in which vegetable items will have been equally important. In general, they have been very well described by Bascom (1951 a and b). The numbers of cooking pots recovered here, and also the grinding stones, are an indirect indication of this missing element. Cooking will have been largely women’s work, as will the practice of gathering, for example, the gathering of shells. The bulk of the work in the farm (both subsistence and commercial) will have fallen to the men. Summary of the excavation This work is based on the study of the excavated material from a 12 metre long trench dug into a refuse mound in the Archaeological Reserve at IITA Ibadan. It was within the area of Adesina Oja village. The neutral to alkaline environment was favourable for the preservation of organic remains, especially palm kernels. On the basis of the coin evidence, among other things, the deposition

of the mound took place during the early part of the 20th century, up to 1970. There were probably periods of more and less intensive usage of the mound, and certainly there must have been some changes over time, but in general it is not unreasonable to treat the material recovered as homogeneous. Building material found, notably fragments of metal roofing sheets and hooks indicative of wooden windows, confirm the evidence from the excavated house with regard to the nature of the dwellings in the village. The walls were of laterite and their layout was traditional, but a number of modern constructional materials were employed. Such houses these days are common, for example, next to the pottery making centre in Fiditi. The people here were mainly farmers and only to a lesser extent hunters. 70% of the bones recovered belonged to cattle, sheep, and goats, and a comparison to the ways in which these animals are slaughtered at the abattoir in Ijebu-Ode shows that they were systematically butchered according to Yoruba norms. Giant rat and cutting grass were the next most favoured items. Metal objects recovered are indicative of both agricultural pursuits (hoes, cutlasses) and of hunting (traps, dane guns). The complete inventory from the mound consists of 17,513 items, divided into 17 broad categories. Of these, more than 76% are potsherds of local manufacture. A determination as to what vessel types were present was carried out on the basis of the material in square C4, relying principally on the rim forms (and not on decoration or metrical characteristics). The two main categories are pots and bowls, chief among them being ape and ìkòkò, and agbada and ìsaasùn, respectively. The potsherds were directly compared to vessels currently being made at Fiditi, Oyo, Awe, and Ilora. It is likely that the pottery was obtained from markets in Ibadan, such as Oje, but only about 10% of such pottery these days is actually manufactured in Ibadan, at a small potting centre in the south-east called Odi-Odeyale (Aina, 1990). It was observed by one of the potters at Fiditi that the ìsaasùn found at the site were of a type that must have been made at Ilorin or Shaki. A mixture of old and new is indicated by the presence of imported ceramics (whiteware and porcelain) along with those of local manufacture. It seems that these were essentially regarded as prestige items and the same may be true to some extent of the imported bottles and glass. The same mixture is apparent in items of body adornment, which include both traditional elements (beads) and new ones (collar studs). Other elements of material culture no doubt reflect the same tension. It is known that Adesina Oja was a Moslem village. This was confirmed by the finding of a Moslem prayer board (wàla) in the excavated house and then again by the tezbah-imam discovered in the mound. But there are abundant signs that traditional religion was alive and well. This is indicated by the presence of ritual rings, pottery used for such purposes (àwo-Ifa), butchered dog bones, and the sacrificial offering (ebo) found at the beginning of the dig, the significance of which was instantly apparent to the students. 152

Figure 13. Slaughtering and flaying a cow (Ijebu-Ode abattoir, after Adekoya)

Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan

Figure 13: Slaughtering and flaying a cow (Ijebu-Ode abattoir, after Adekoya)

Some insight into the outlook of the villagers can be obtained thanks to a survey carried out in Shasha by anthropology students of the Department in 1983-84. This is the area, directly south of IITA, where the villagers from the territory of the Institute were resettled in 196870. There were 33 villages in all, including Adesina Oja. In general, it was agreed that the resettlement plan had worked well, each village retaining its identity within the resettlement area. The majority were Moslems, who had good relations with the Hausa traders in the resettlement

area market. The resettled villagers were described by the students, in their usual jargon, as “illiterates”, mainly engaged in farming. As one of them put it, “Most of them are still tied to the traditional values of their land … They cherish the retention of their values and talk of western influences in changing their economic system with mixed feelings”. Nonetheless, another noted, this was a community in transition. “With the passage of time, Shasha will become completely urbanised, and the elements of rurality shall be no more”.

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Adesina Oja in a broader context Above all, the broader context means Ibadan, one of the largest and most important cities in Nigeria, the development of which over the last hundred years and more has reflected the history of European colonial rule, its impact, and what came before and after it. Numerous works have been devoted to the city and to the Yoruba in general and what is said here reflects that (Bascom, 1969; Falola, 1984 and 1989; ed. Filani, 1982; Forde, 1951; Krapf-Askari, 1969; ed. Lloyd, Mabogunje, and Awe, 1967; Ojo, 1966; Vagale and Adekoya, 1974). Ibadan in its present form was founded in 1829 as a war camp by refugees from Old Oyo, hence the saying that it was created by “blood and iron” (Falola, 1984: 23). It had no oba but was ruled by a baálè. From the start Ibadan had a cosmopolitan character, but people of Oyo descent were and are predominant. The Ibadan empire was in constant conflict with its neighbours, until the treaty of 1893, by which it came under British colonial rule. As was said at the time, “a conqueror is now conquered”. In 1914 the Southern and Northern Nigerian Protectorates, and the Colony of Lagos, were combined under the rule of a Governor-General, and an attempt was made to introduce the system of indirect rule which Lugard favoured for the North. In accordance with this, in the time of Captain Ross, Ibadan was made subordinate to the Alaafin of Oyo. This arrangement was never popular, hence in 1934 a Native Authority independent of Oyo was established in Ibadan, and in 1936 the baálè received the title of Olubadan. The importance of the city was much enhanced when it became the headquarters of the Western Region in 1952, subsequently the Western State in 1967. During this time the population of the city, and the boundary of its built up area, increased constantly. According to census figures and projections, the population grew from about 175,000 in 1911 to about 1,784,000 in 1981 (ed. Filani, 1982: 79-96). Figure 1 shows the extent of the built up area in 1981. By this time it had come a long way from the smaller walled city once said to have had 16 gates and 70 blacksmiths’ shops (A. Callaway, in ed. Lloyd et al., 1967). Despite its growth over the years, Ibadan is still referred to as a “city-village” (ed. Lloyd et al., 1967) and one can see why. For the most part, the heart of the city is still organised in terms of compounds (agbo ílé) occupied by clans or lineages (ìdílé) on the basis of patrilineal descent (Forde, 1951; Falola, 1984). Landholding in this system is vested in the lineage, and not the individual, i.e. this is “family land” (ílè ílé), a concept which is widespread throughout West Africa. Essentially this was and is a polygynous society. In 1951-53 a survey of 776 households revealed that the men in 58.5% of them had more than one wife, usually two but up to four, a situation made possible by the fact that the (fewer) males were usually in the age bracket 35-50 and the (more numerous) females were between 20 and 35 (Bascom, 1969: 64). This situation is of course entirely consonant with the Moslem religion, which is predominant in Ibadan, and reflected in

the fact that in 1961 there were 197 mosques in the city as compared with 61 churches (Ojo, 1966: 191). It was and is a community with strong links to the land. It is estimated that in 1952 over half of the adult male population (65%) were engaged in agriculture, dividing their time between their farm and their compound in the city (ed. Lloyd et al., 1967; Krapf-Askari, 1969). Links between the farm and the city were further facilitated by the many “5-5” and “99” day markets and the bigger periodic markets such as the one at Oje (B.W. Hodder, in ed. Lloyd et al., 1967; Falola, 1984). The counterpart of this is that during the period in question Ibadan could hardly be classified as an industrial city in the accepted sense. This is borne out by the study of 83 “major manufacturing and processing establishments” in Ibadan carried out in 1973 by Vagale and Adekoya and their students at the Polytechnic. To qualify for inclusion each establishment had to have a minimum of 10 employees. The employees’ total number was no more than 7496; the average size of the establishments was 0.66 hectares; and almost none of them had started operations until after the second world war (Vagale and Adekoya, 1974). They could be divided into three categories: (1) primary, extraction from the land, e.g., quarries and saw mills; (2) secondary, already partly processed raw materials, e.g., canning factories and rubber works; and (3) tertiary, service and repair, e.g., printing presses and metal workshops. There were 8 establishments in the first category, 38 in the second, and 37 in the third. In other words, the pattern conformed to that of Nigeria as a whole, with a predominance of ventures manufacturing “light consumer goods”. Vagale and Adekoya’s conclusion was obvious, that Ibadan could not yet be called an industrial metropolis. It can be seen that Adesina Oja could easily fit into a world dominated by a “city-village” such as this. It would however be completely erroneous to assume that Ibadan and its hinterland was a static entity throughout the first part of the 20th century, not at all. Important changes were effected in the city’s infrastructure and layout, the agricultural landscape was significantly altered, and there were no less vital changes in the legal framework. In the first place, communications underwent a transformation, with the arrival of the railway from Lagos in 1901. It was extended to Jebba in 1910. By 1906 Ibadan was linked to Lagos by a road wide enough to take a car, and in the 1920’s similar roads were constructed between Ibadan and Oyo and Ibadan and Ife (Falola, 1989). Public transport vehicles were available on all these roads. New roads were constructed within Ibadan itself, most notably Ogunmola Avenue (popularly known as “Taffy Highway”) (ed. Lloyd et al., 1967). The morphology of the city was transformed by the setting aside and development of Government Reservation Areas (GRA), particularly in its western part, and the establishment of what was in effect a “central business district” centred on the railway station and Lebanon Street (ed. Lloyd et al., 1967: Map 6). As Falola emphasises (1984: 111-112; 1989: Tables 4.1 and 4.2), imports and exports had always been a feature of Ibadan life. From the north came such things as salt, shea

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Ethnoarchaeology at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan butter, and galena; from the south, guns and gunpowder, liquor, and tobacco. Exports included palm oil products and (by transit) kola. Nonetheless, the whole process was given a boost by the new means of transport, and many new products made their appearance. As Falola remarks (1989: 200), “the penetration of western culture also involved a process of taste transfer”, involving such things as milk, tinned meat and fish, biscuits, flour, and rice. Previously, cowries (in strings of 40) had served as the medium of exchange, but they were gradually ousted by the metallic currency of the colonial power, particularly after the opening of the Bank of British West Africa’s office in Ibadan in 1910. One particular import had an immediate impact on the appearance of the city and was very popular: corrugated iron roof sheeting. A house with such a roof (ile panu) was less susceptible to fire than the traditional thatched roofed dwelling, and the roof had the additional advantage of acting as a good rain collector (Ojo, 1966: 151). Frobenius commented in 1910 that Abeokuta from a distance presented a picture of a glitter of such roofs, and no doubt the same was true of Ibadan (Ojo, 1966: 153). In addition, cement was used to plaster the mud brick walls of such houses (Falola, 1989: 200). This is precisely the kind of house we saw at Adesina Oja. Furthermore, “the tenth of a penny which the poor valued was what the privileged citizens turned into galvanised washers” for the roofs of their houses (Falola, 1989: 280), but whether that accounts for the coins of this type found in the IITA mound is much more doubtful. So far as agriculture is concerned, the crucial innovation was the introduction of new cash crops. Cotton and rubber did not succeed, but cocoa did, and Ibadan was in the heart of the “cocoa belt”. It is estimated that by the 1950’s 25% of the farm land in the area was given over to this crop and 25% of the farmers were dependent on it for their livelihood (ed. Lloyd et al., 1967; Krapf-Askari, 1969). This had consequences for the farming system in general, since cocoa trees need 12 or more years growth before they become really productive (Forde, 1951; Bascom, 1969). They could not easily fit in to the traditional system of rotational bush fallow, particularly since the period of bush fallowing at this time had generally been shortened to 2 or 3 years (Ojo, 1966). In theory the trees alone belonged to the farmer, not the land, but in practice the idea of communal land ownership was weakened. Cocoa became Nigeria’s principal export, and remained so until 1964, when it was overtaken by oil (Bascom, 1969). Many farmers did well out of it. Falola, no friend of the British administration, agrees that the expansion of cash crop production after 1893 meant that “a large number of people were easily reconciled to colonial domination” (Falola, 1989: 91). We have noted some artefacts indicative of cocoa farming at Adesina Oja, and there is no reason to doubt that it took part in the “cocoa boom” of the time. Changes in law affected both persons and property. Both domestic slavery and the indenture system known as ìwòfà were abolished by proclamation in 1916 and 1938 respectively (Falola, 1989). The ìwòfà system meant that,

in return for a loan, a person could pledge or pawn his or her labour, or more likely that of a relative, to the lender for a specified period or until the loan was repaid (Bascom, 1969). In practice, neither slavery nor the indenture system were quick to die out. Their abolition may have been welcomed by some, others may well have regretted another measure enforced by the colonial government, namely the graduated poll tax (Bascom, 1969) introduced in 1918, and initially set at an annual rate of seven shillings per head per adult male (Falola, 1989). Collection was the responsibility of the chiefs, who received an official salary. More drastic and long lasting in their effects were the changes in the system of land tenure introduced by the government (Falola, 1989). By means of the Public Lands Acquisition Proclamation of 1903, the government obtained the right to have access to any land of its choice, albeit with compensation, “notwithstanding any native law or custom to the contrary”, and it was by this device that the various GRA’s in the city were developed. The government also assisted foreign firms (e.g., Paterson and Zochonis, and John Holt) to acquire land which in theory was held by lease, and this is how for example what is now Moor Plantation initially came into being. The same assistance was rendered to some citizens not originally from Ibadan (so-called “native aliens”) to settle in areas such as Ekotedo and near the railway station. The net effect eventually was that in the immediate vicinity of Ibadan land came to be “freely bought and sold” (ed. Lloyd et al., 1967). The same process whereby a dual system of land holding came into existence (Forde, 1951: 26) occurred elsewhere in West Africa, but it was not necessarily a painless affair. As Falola says (1989: 99), “of all the changes, the one that bothered people most was sales of land”, and “some families never knew that their land had been sold until buyers began to develop it”. Conflicts of this kind occur throughout West Africa to this day, and Adesina Oja was no doubt not a stranger to them. It must have been affected by the changes in the law, like everyone else. By and large then it can be seen that Adesina Oja fitted seamlessly into a pattern of continuity and change which characterised Ibadan in the first part of the 20th century. Writing in the 1960s about Yorubaland as a whole, Ojo concluded (1966: 272) that “assimilation somehow left unimpaired the individuality of the culture”, and one has the impression that the same was true of this village. References Abraham, R.C. 1958. Dictionary of Modern Yoruba. Hodder and Stoughton, London. Adekoya, B.B. 1983. Exploitation of animals in Yorubaland and its recognition in an archaeological context. Unpublished M.Sc. dissertation, University of Ibadan. Aina, O.C. 1990. Pottery making in Ibadan: Importation and local manufacture. Unpublished B.Sc. dissertation, University of Ibadan. Aleru, J.O. 1988. I.I.T.A. pottery: An ethnoarchaeological

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives appraisal – based on materials from the excavated mound at Adesina-Oja village (square C4). Unpublished M.Sc. dissertation, University of Ibadan. Allsworth-Jones, P. 1996. Continuity and change in Yoruba pottery. Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, 59: 312-322. Allsworth-Jones, P. 2004. Experimental archaeology in the Tropics: The International Institute of Tropical Agriculture Ibadan, the Village of Adesina Oja, and Abandoned House No. 2. Azania, 39: 125-145. Andah, B.W., K.N. Momin, D.A. Aremu, C.A. Folorunso. 1992. Archaeological investigations on the campus of the University of Ibadan (an unusual salvage experiment). West African Journal of Archaeology, 22: 98-108. Audu, A.A. 1990. Classification and conservation of metal objects: I.I.T.A. Archaeological Reserve as a case study. Unpublished B.A. dissertation, University of Ibadan. Bargery, G.P. 1934. A Hausa-English Dictionary and English-Hausa Vocabulary. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Bascom, W. 1951a. Yoruba Food. Africa, 21: 41-53. Bascom, W. 1951b. Yoruba Cooking. Africa, 21: 125-137. Bascom, W. 1969. The Yoruba of Southwestern Nigeria. Holt Rinehart and Winston, New York. Booth, A.H. 1960. Small Mammals of West Africa. Longman, London. Burkill, H.M. 1994. The Useful Plants of West Tropical Africa, vol. 2. Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. Dorst, J., P. Dandelot. 1972. A Field Guide to the Larger Mammals of Africa. Collins, London. Eguaroje, O.E. 1987. Sample column one at I.I.T.A. midden mound: A study of sedimentology and the organic remains. Unpublished B.Sc. dissertation, University of Ibadan. Falola, T. 1984. The Political Economy of a Pre-colonial African State: Ibadan, 1830-1900. University of Ife Press, Ile-Ife. Falola, T. 1989. Politics and Economy in Ibadan, 18931945. Modelor Design Aids Ltd., Lagos. Fatunsin, A.K. 1992. Yoruba Pottery. National Commission for Museums and Monuments, Lagos. Filani, M.O. (ed.) 1982. Ibadan Region. Department of Geography, University of Ibadan.

Forde, D. 1951. The Yoruba-speaking Peoples of Southwestern Nigeria. International African Institute, London. Happold, D.C.D. 1973. Large Mammals of West Africa. Longman, London. Krapf-Askari, E. 1969. Yoruba Towns and Cities: an enquiry into the nature of urban social phenomena. Clarendon Press, Oxford. Lloyd, P.C., A.L. Mabogunje, B. Awe (eds.). 1967. The City of Ibadan: A symposium on its structure and development. Cambridge University Press, in association with the Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan. McMillan, N.F. 1984. Report on the molluscan remains. In T. Shaw and S.G.H. Daniels, Excavations at Iwo Eleru, Ondo State, Nigeria. West African Journal of Archaeology, 14: 142-144. Moormann, F.R., R. Lal, A.S.R. Juo. 1975. The Soils of IITA. International Institute of Tropical Agriculture, Ibadan. Nicklin, K. 1991. Yoruba: A celebration of African Art. The Horniman Public Museum and Public Park Trust, London. Ojo, G.J.A. 1966. Yoruba Culture: A Geographical Analysis. University of Ife and University of London Press, London. Omokhua, B.O. 1990. Hunting practices and animal remains in South-western Nigeria: an ethnoarchaeological approach – Auchi and Ibadan as case studies. Unpublished B.Sc. dissertation, University of Ibadan. Opadeji, O.A. 1987. Excavations at Omowole village I.I.T.A. Ibadan. Unpublished M.Sc. dissertation, University of Ibadan. Simpson, G.E. 1980. Yoruba Religion and Medicine in Ibadan. University of Ibadan Press, Ibadan. Vagale, L.R., O.C. Adekoya. 1974. Industrial environment of a Nigerian city: Case study of Ibadan, Nigeria. The Polytechnic, Ibadan. Wakeman, C.W. 1950. A Dictionary of the Yoruba Language. University Press, Ibadan. Wesler, K.W. 1992. The introduction of imported ceramics in Nigeria: An archaeological perspective. West African Journal of Archaeology, 22: 109-132.

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The Dundu Museum (Angola): project for its reopening and renovation (2007) Manuel Laranjeira Rodrigues de Areia

Faculty of Science and Technology, University of Coimbra, Portugal [email protected] Abstract  The Dundu Museum was founded in 1937 by the diamond mining company Diamang (Companhia de Diamantes de Angola) (Figure 1). It became one of the greatest museums in sub-Saharan Africa and was very well known to the international scientific community, not only on account of its ethnographic, archaeological, and biological collections, but also because of the specialised publications which it sponsored. These included a number of works by Professor J. D. Clark, in particular his “Prehistoric cultures of northeast Angola and their significance in tropical Africa” (1963). The museum came under threat during the Angolan civil war (1975-2002): it was never attacked, but its abandonment and the resulting deterioration of the building gave rise to some damage. In particular, 2005 of the most important artefacts were sent to Luanda in 1975, and some of these pieces have disappeared to an unknown destination outside the country. An investigation is under way with the assistance of ICOM. In 2007 the Angolan Ministry of Culture launched a proposal for the reopening of the museum to the public. A team led by Mr V. F. Manzambi visited the museum and made a first selection of material for a permanent display. No date has yet been set for the museum’s reopening, but the project supported by the government is under way, and the local population of the region (the Cokwe) are very much in favour of it.

Figure 1: The Dundu Museum as established in 1937. 1. The colonial museum and “scientific colonialism” The Dundu museum has several characteristics which are unique in the colonial context, in the first place because collections made in the colonies at that time were generally sent to the European countries concerned, to furnish great museums containing artefacts from those colonies. The Dundu museum was created with the support of the population and of their traditional chiefs (sobas) who collaborated with José Redinha to gather together objects symbolic of the power of their ancestors. The administration of Diamang (Companhia de Diamantes de Angola) obtained certain Angolan objects for the museum by purchase in European art markets, thanks to the initiative of its president, Mr Vilhena, who was a renowned

art collector. The traditional chiefs, accompanied by their families, were regular visitors to the museum and were proud to demonstrate the symbolic objects which they or their ancestors had previously owned. The museum’s permanent display opened with a dedication to the “People of Lunda”, and showed different aspects of the life of the Cokwe. In other respects, it was a typical colonial museum, except that in this case it was established in the colony itself. The first ethnographic items provided an initial beginning for the museum, but then artefacts of archaeological interest began to appear, thanks to the work of the mines. J. Redinha and the geologist J. Janmart first drew attention to the richness and quantity of this material (1942), and that led to the creation of the archaeological

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Figure 2: Female statuette Lwena : Dundu G 293.

Missing from the National Museum of Anthropology, Luanda. Sold at auction in France on 24 March 1996. Seized by the French police on behalf of ICOM on the basis of information from Marie Louise Bastin, who studied it at Dundu in 1956 (“One Hundred Missing Objects”, ICOM, 1997, p. II).

Figure 4: Figurine of mwanangana (chief of the land) : Dundu CA 124.

Removed from the National Museum of Anthropology, Luanda, in 1979 for a travelling exhibition, “Angola : art plastique ancien et contemporain”, and not returned. (ICOM, 1997 p. 40).

Figure 3: Statuette of Cibinda Ilunga (the founder hero) : Dundu CA 82 (stamp 1981). (ICOM, 1997 p. 39).

Figure 5: Stool belonging to the former chief Cilumba of the Kapaia région : Dundu G 793. (ICOM, 1997 p. 31).

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Figure 6: Headrest : Dundu CA 84. (ICOM, 1997 p. 42).

The Dundu Museum (Angola): project for its reopening and renovation (2007) section of the museum in 1945. A biological laboratory was established thanks to A. Barros Machado, and specialists in zoology and botany were invited to carry out fieldwork in the area. For present purposes, we are concentrating on the ethnographic collections, which grew from a small private collection belonging to J. Redinha in 1936 to a large museum ensemble, which in 1968 included 13,686 pieces. 2. The civil war, damage to the building, and loss of some of the collections

Figure 7: Snuffbox : Dundu J 100. (ICOM, 1997 p. 42)

The town of Dundu was never attacked during the civil war (1975-2002), but the museum could not escape the difficulties which affected the region in general. Problems with the building and the collections increased to such an extent that the museum was closed to the public in 1992. More grave than the situation in Dundu itself is the fact that a good number of the 2005 ethnographic objects sent to Luanda in 1975 (with the laudable objective of making them more accessible to the public) have disappeared from view. Some have been traced through their sale by auction or in the art galleries of Brussels and Paris. Calls for their restitution by Marie-Louise Bastin (who studied the ethnographic collections in 1956 and published them in 1961) and by the staff of the ethnography section of the museum in Tervuren (which holds negatives of all the 800 pieces which Bastin studied) have not produced any result, and the process of theft by means of an “inside job” has carried on until quite recently. With the reopening of the museum in mind, the Ministry of Culture wishes to reclaim those pieces which have left the country illegally, assuming that those people who have bought them in good faith would be ready to return them to their place of origin, once the fact that they came from the museum was authenticated (by photos, registration numbers, descriptive labels, and the like). The deputy Minister of Culture, Mr Virgílio Coelho, made a statement to this effect in 2007.

Figure 8: Modern figurine of "Kalamba Kuku" (masculine ancestor) :Dundu G 168 (ICOM, 1997 p. 43).

The International Council for Museums (ICOM) has denounced the theft of objects from several African countries, and for Angola we have a list of seven such pieces, most belonging to the Dundu museum. We present it here in an abbreviated form, while recognising that it is likely to be no more than the tip of the iceberg (see also the report by A. Barros Machado [1977] in Manzambi [2001, Appendix]). [see Figures 2 – 8, all objects which are recorded as missing from the National Museum of Anthropology, Luanda] 3. Project for the reopening and renovation of the museum Following the end of the civil war in 2002, the people of the region (Cokwe for the most part) have been impatiently waiting for the museum to be reopened. After independence in 1975, it had become part of the Ministry of Culture,

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West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives as a regional museum, and was no longer the property of Endiama, the Angolan company which replaced Diamang. The government has taken note of the people’s wish, which they recognise is justified, and the Heritage Department of the Ministry of Culture has launched a project with this in mind. A team was organised by the deputy Minister of Culture Mr Coelho, including Mr F.X. Yambo the head of the Heritage Department and coordinated by an official of the Ministry Mr V.F. Manzambi, and this team visited Dundu from 12 to 23 April 2007 in order to get the project going. A pre-selection of pieces which will be put on display has been made. A detailed guide concerning the main themes of the exhibition in each of the spaces allocated has been drawn up. This goes from prehistory, showing different traditional techniques (covering social organisation, political power, ritual objects, methods of hunting and fishing, extraction of honey from beeswax, as well as rubber, and so forth), up to diamond mining methods and documentation of the colonial situation: everything has been set out in detail. The main guidelines for the permanent exhibition are as follows. 1. Prehistory of the peoples of Lunda (Cokwe and those related to them): migrations from the east manifested archaeologically. 2. Hunting and fishing technologies: traps to catch small animals and also large animals of the savanna. 3.Agriculture: cultivation techniques, mainly as practised by women, especially for cassava. 4. Domestic life: cooking, food preparation, making of utensils, particularly pottery. 5. Sculptures in wood and ivory: many are missing, but there are numerous decorated elephant tusks. 6. Conceptions of the world: ideology relating to favourable forces (mahamba) as also to unfavourable ones (wanga) represented in different ways. 7. Masks: some are missing, but it will still be possible to create a good exhibition, particularly in respect of masks used for initiation.

8. Mining industry and environment: contacts with Endiama have been established, to obtain material relative to the origin and functioning of the mines. 9. Colonisation: all aspects of this subject are envisaged: the “statute of the indigene”, the violence of labour, the displacement of the labourers, etc. Specialists who have worked in the region have been invited to prepare texts that will form part of a good illustrated catalogue, with pictures of the best pieces, which will make them known far and wide. A design specialist and a technician skilled in the production of display cases have studied the space available for the mounting of the exhibition. A conservator has been sent by the Anthropological Museum of Coimbra to coordinate cleaning and preparation of the pieces so that they can be photographed for the catalogue. The elections of 2008 led to a reorganisation of the government and the new Minister of Culture has needed time to reassess this very important project. But after the Minister’s recent visit to Dundu, it is likely that things will move forward more quickly.

References Barros Machado, A. 1977. Rapport “Viagem de A. de Barros Machado a Angola, a convite do Ministério da Educação e Cultura da R. P. A. (22-II-77 a 10-IV-77)”, Museu Antropológico da Universidade de Coimbra. Bastin, M.L. 1961. Art décoratif tshokwe. 2 vols. Diamang, publicações culturais, nº 55. Breuil, H. and J. Janmart. 1950. Les limons et graviers de l’Angola du Nord-Est et leur contenu archéologique. Diamang, publicações culturais, nº 5. ICOM. 1997. Cent objets disparus / One hundred missing objects: pillage en Afrique / looting in Africa. International Council of Museums, Paris. Manzambi, V.F. 2001. Estudo das colecções etnográficas nos museus de Angola: desconstruir o pensador cokwe a partir do cesto de ngombo ya cisuka. Faculdade de Letras, Universidade do Porto.

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The linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory Roger Blench

Kay Williamson Educational Foundation, 8 Guest Road, Cambridge CB1 2AL. [email protected] http://www.rogerblench.info/RBOP.htm

Abstract Nigeria is one of the most linguistically diverse regions of the world, with 500+ languages and three major language phyla represented, as well as isolate languages. The historical processes underlying this diversity remain poorly understood and a rapidly increasing research base makes continual updating essential. The paper outlines current understanding of the classification and geography of languages in Nigeria, and presents a model for their historical layering. Potential archaeological correlations remain highly speculative due to the low density of well-dated sites in Nigeria. Keywords: Nigeria, languages, archaeology, Niger-Congo, Nilo-Saharan, hippo

1. Introduction West Africa is one of the most complex regions of the world linguistically speaking and one of the least known archaeologically. Three unrelated language phyla meet and interact there and there is also a language isolate, unrelated to any other languages presently spoken, presumably representing the speech of prior populations. The geographical fragmentation of these language groups suggests considerable movement and ‘layering’ in prehistory. In principle it should be possible to correlate these with archaeology, but in practice, the density of archaeological sites is too low to put forward more than speculations. However, it is reasonable to map out the sequence of movements that have resulted in the current ethnolinguistic map and to suggest their likely historical stratification. It is also possible to link historical reconstructions of subsistence items with, for example, archaeological finds to establish whether a particular group was practising agriculture, pastoralism and fisheries. Ecological reconstruction makes it possible to draw up hypotheses about the homeland of a particular group. Genetics has so far made little or no contribution to West African prehistory but this may change in the future. The paper will focus on reconstructing the ethnolinguistic history of Nigeria, as representing the meeting place of three of Africa’s four language phyla.

Phylum Nilo-Saharan Afroasiatic Niger-Congo

2. Nigeria: meeting place of three of Africa’s language phyla Nigeria is one of the regions of Africa where three of its four language phyla overlap and interact. Table 1 shows the phyla and the families represented in Nigeria. The Benue-Congo languages (which include Bantu) are the most complex and numerous family, including the branches Plateau, East and West Kainji, Cross River, Dakoid, Mambiloid and other Bantoid, as well as Bantu proper (Jarawan and Ekoid). Map 1 shows a general overview of the location of the different language families. 3. Jalaa: a language isolate Nigeria has a single language isolate, the Jalaa or Cen Tuum language, spoken among the Cham in the Gombe area of NE Nigeria (Kleinewillinghöfer 2001). Jalaa, like Laal in Chad, has a significant proportion of loanwords from a scatter of neighbouring languages, but a core of lexemes without etymologies. Analysis so far suggests that it is unrelated to any other language in the world and thus is probably a survival from the foraging period, when West Africa would have been occupied by small bands speaking a diverse range of now disappeared languages. Other comparable language isolates are Laal (Chad) and Bangi Me (Mali). The earliest occupation of what is now North-Central Nigeria must have been that of Pleistocene foragers, and the only trace of these is the Jalaa. This is

Families Songhay, Saharan Chadic, Semitic, Berber Mande, Gur, Atlantic, Volta-Niger, Ijoid, Benue-Congo, Adamawa, Ubangian

Table 1. African language phyla represented in Nigeria

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LA

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T JI S N A I E KA

(West CHADIC)

Jebba Lake

0

N

C

Tiga Lake

GUR T I S J E IN W KA

- 10 -

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S

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Map 1: Language families of Nigeria represented as ‘Jalaaic’ on the map, as a representative of a now-vanished language family. 4. Nilo-Saharan The Nilo-Saharan languages are found across semi-arid Africa today, from the Ethio-Sudan borderlands to eastern Senegal, although fragmented by the subsequent expansion of Berber. In Nigeria, Nilo-Saharan is represented by two branches, Saharan and Songhay, at the geographical extremes of the country and separated by Hausa and other Chadic languages (Map 2). The two principal sources for the subclassification of Nilo-Saharan are Bender (1997) and Ehret (2001). The internal structure of the phylum is disputed, though not its internal diversity nor the location of that diversity. In the Ethio-Sudan borderlands, Nilo-Saharan speakers may have existed as foragers for a long period prior to their expansion in the Holocene. Both the linguistic geography and the internal classification of Nilo-Saharan point to a spread from the southeast westwards across the Sahara. Drake and Bristow (2006) and Armitage et al (2007) have provided evidence for a ‘green Sahara’ during the Holocene, suggesting the whole region was filled with rivers and lakes which allowed a major expansion of aquatic resources. This would have attracted fisher-foragers westward and

created a corridor for water-dependent species to cross the desert to North Africa. Nilo-Saharan speakers, probably fishing people to judge by their distinctive harpoon points, expanded across these green corridors in pursuit of fish and other aquatic fauna. The notion that there is a general connection between seriated bone harpoons and NiloSaharan goes back to the Aqualithic of John Sutton (1974, 1977), although the connection with the introduction of pottery is unlikely since this spread rapidly between the Nile Valley and the Sahara some 10,000 years ago (Close 1995) rather than being co-distributed with harpoons. It would therefore not be unreasonable to associate the dispersal of the western branches of Nilo-Saharan with the opening up of new aquatic resource opportunities some 11,000 years ago. An intriguing piece of evidence for this aquatic specialisation is the existence of widespread cognates in Nilo-Saharan for major hunted species. Table 2 shows a cognate for ‘hippo’ that covers the entire range of NiloSaharan, while Table 3 shows that the words for crocodile divide into two groups, linking together eastern and western branches. As if to provide confirmation for this scenario, Breunig et al. (2008) report finds of terracotta animals around

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The linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory

Pro

Republic of Niger

ot

o-

Jibiya Lake

S spLake ah eaChad ara ke n rs

SOKOTO

ers

speak

- 10 -

KANO

Republic of Benin

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- 12 -

MAIDUGURI Tiga Lake

KADUNA

JALAAIC - 10 -

(Unidentified hunter-gatherers) Riv

er N

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ige

Benue-Congo subgroup

r

r ive

B E N U E C O N G O

Afroasiatic subgroup

R

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n Be

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Mallam Dendo Cartographic services, July 2009 14

- -

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6

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4

Map 2: Nilo-Saharan languages the margins of Lake Chad, some 2000 years old. Photo 1 shows a remarkably well-preserved hippo from these excavations. Family Gumuz Maba CS Songhay Songhay

Subgroup

Sara

Language Kokit Aiki Nar Kaado Koyra Chiini

Attestation baŋa bùngùr àbà bàŋà baŋa

Table 2. A cognate for ‘hippo’ in Nilo-Saharan languages

Family Koman Kuliak Eastern Sudanic Eastern Sudanic Maba Saharan Songhay

Language Uduk Ik Proto-Nilotic Gaam Aiki Kanuri Zarma

Attestation ànàŋà nyeti-nyáŋ ŋaaŋ ŋaaŋ

Attestation

gòrndí kárám kààrày

Table 3. Cognates for ‘crocodile’ in Nilo-Saharan languages

Photo 1: Terracotta hippo from Lake Chad (courtesy of Peter Breunig)

5. Gur-Adamawa Gur-Adamawa speakers stretch from Burkina Faso to central Chad, and the Ubangian branch of Adamawa reaches into southern Sudan (Kleinewillinghöfer 1996). Gur-Adamawa is highly internally divided and there are no convincing proposals for reconstructions of agriculture to its proto-language. The languages are not distributed along rivers, so this presumably represents an expansion of foragers across open savannah, perhaps 6-8000 years ago.

163

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

K

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Lake Chad

ran

- 12 -

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LAGOS

Atlantic Ocean

Republic of

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V Cameroon RI S S Figure 1. Revised subclassification of OBenue-Congo languages KWEF Cartographic services, CR July 2009 Kilometres

14

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Map 3: Gur-Adamawa and Benue-Congo expansions Proto-Benue-Congo

Central Nigerian

Kainji Northwest Plateau

Plateau

Bantoid-Cross

Jukunoid

Central Plateau Beromic

Ukaan ?

Cross River

Tarokoid

SE Plateau

Upper Cross

Lower Cross

Ogoni

Delta Cross

Bantoid

Figure 1: Revised subclassification of Benue-Congo languages The Gur-Adamawa speakers are likely to have had bows and arrows and an array of microlithic technology. What would once have been a continuous band of settlement across present-day Northern Nigeria was broken up by the northwards expansion of Benue-Congo and the later southward movement of Chadic languages. Map 3 shows the movement of Gur-Adamawa across northern Nigeria and the likely nucleus of Benue-Congo expansion (§6).

6. Benue-Congo The Benue-Congo languages, including Plateau, Cross River, Kainji, Jukunoid and other smaller groups predominate in the centre and east of Nigeria and one branch of them also gave rise to Bantoid (the languages such as Grassfields which show Bantu-like features but cannot be treated as Bantu proper) and Bantu (the large family of

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The linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory

Photo 2: Archaic bronze knife, Hausaland closely related languages that covers most of Eastern and Southern Africa). Figure 1 shows a major reclassification of the Benue-Congo languages, incorporating recent research that updates and sometimes radically revises the classification given in Blench (2006). Key aspects of this reclassification are; a) The classification of Jarawan Bantu as a Narrow Bantu language (see §10) b) The treatment of West Benue-Congo as a wholly distinct family, now called ‘Volta-Niger’ (§8) c) The classification of the Furu cluster as a mainstream Bantoid language close to Bantu d) The placing of Ndemli as a branch of Grassfields e) The promotion of Ukaan to a single branch of BenueCongo To account for their present distribution, the most likely initial point of dispersal is the Niger-Benue confluence. Reading back into the past from the probable dates of the Bantu expansion this dispersal must have been 6-7000 kya. As with Gur-Adamawa, this is primarily a land-based expansion, although on reaching the Cross River, fisheries began to play a major role in subsistence. We know from palynological records that West Africa underwent a dry phase from about 7.8-6.5 kya (Gasse and Van Campo 1994; Jousse 2006:64) and it is conceivable that a shortage of game to hunt caused the original dispersal of BenueCongo. 7. Chadic The Chadic languages are spread between the Sudan border and western Nigeria. Chadic is a branch of Afroasiatic, which also includes Arabic, the Berber languages, Ancient Egyptian and the languages of Ethiopia. The exact placing of Chadic within Afroasiatic is controversial, but various phonological and lexical elements make a connection with the Cushitic languages of Ethiopia credible (Blench in press). If so, then proto-Chadic speakers may have migrated westwards along the now dry Wadi Hawar, reaching Lake Chad 3-4000 years ago (Blench 1999). Their likely subsistence strategies were a combination of pastoralism and fishing, rather like the Dinka and Nuer today. Upon reaching Lake Chad, they then apparently dispersed east, west and south, to account for the branches

of Chadic today. The two branches of Chadic in Nigeria are West (dominated by Hausa) and Central (largely in Cameroon and Chad) shown in Map 4. The expansion of West Chadic was probably some 3000 years ago, but certainly later than Benue-Congo. The driving force of this is unclear, although possibly the expanding Chadic pastoralists had larger, more productive cattle than the resident trypanotolerant taurine breeds kept by sedentary populations (Blench 1998). Hausa underwent a secondary expansion, beginning about 1000 years ago, further breaking up the Kainji and Plateau populations and pressing Adamawa languages southwards. This expansion was probably driven by the gradual evolution of centralised kingdoms, which included access both to new systems of military organisation and craft specialisation (Photo 2). At a similar time there would have been a secondary expansion of Kanuri cluster languages from north of Lake Chad associated with the evolution of the kingdom of Kanem. It is at this point that language expansions begin to enter the historical record. Shuwa Arabs are likely to have begun incursions into NE Nigeria in the 13th century and Tuareg herders began moving into the Nigerian borderlands in the twentieth century. 8. Volta-Niger (also ‘Eastern Kwa’ or ‘West BenueCongo’) The language subgroup known as ‘Volta-Niger’ or formerly ‘Eastern Kwa’ or ‘West Benue-Congo’ consists of Yoruboid, Nupoid, Igboid, Ewe etc. On the principle of ‘least moves’, its likely homeland was west of the Niger-Benue confluence. The Nupoid languages expanded northwards and have broken apart the two branches of Kainji. Figure 2 shows the subclassification of Volta-Niger languages and Map 4 the likely pattern of dispersal. Why Volta-Niger broke up and when remain unanswered questions, but it is observable that all these languages have words for ‘market’, trade’, ‘profit’ etc. suggesting that the evolution of long-distance trade may have played a role. Table 4 shows a reconstructible term for ‘profit’ in VoltaNiger languages which points to this possible commercial orientation. 165

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives

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P LAT EAU

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Secondary Kanuri Expansion

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JU

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-6200

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I j o I d 10

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Gur

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N

Map 4: Expansion of Chadic and Volta-Niger Figure 1. Volta-Niger languages Volta-Niger

9. Ijoid

YEAI Edoid

NOI Ayere -Ahan

Igboid Akpes

Yoruboid

Akokoid

Nupoid Oko

Idomoid

Figure 2: Volta-Niger languages

Group Edoid Igboid Akokoid Ayere Nupoid Idomoid

Language Emai Igbo Uro Ayere Nupe Idoma

è è e ε è ì

l r l l l

è è e έ è è

lè

Table 4. The reconstructible term #ile for ‘profit’ in Volta-Niger languages

The Ijoid languages (Map 5), spoken in the Niger Delta of Nigeria, also represent a puzzle (Alagoa et al. 1988). The languages are all extremely close to one another, except for one small language, Defaka (Jenewari 1983; Williamson 1998), but they are very remote from the other branches of Niger-Congo, both formally (i.e. in terms of syntax and morphology) and lexically. This rather suggests the speakers were resident elsewhere for a long time, and reached the Niger Delta quite recently, fanning out from a nodal point. This does not entirely explain Defaka, which is markedly different from the rest of Ijoid and has some features reminiscent of the reconstructed Ijoid protolanguage. There must once have been more languages related to Defaka which have since disappeared, perhaps reflecting an early wave of migrants to the Delta, almost erased by the expansion of Ịjọ proper or the incoming Lower Cross and Ogonic groups. Their fishing skills suggest that their origin may have been a mobile fishing people from the Upper Niger, somewhat like today’s Sorko people (Ligers 1964-1969). As Map 5 shows, there are Central Delta (Cross River) languages encapsulated within Ijoid. Central Delta communities are primarily farmers and hence could easily co-exist with the primarily fishing Ịjọ.

166

The linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory

Benin

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KEY Major Language Groups

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Lagos

8

Map 5: Ijoid and surrounding languages An intriguing piece of supporting evidence is the name of the manatee, Trichechus senegalensis, which has a common root shared between Bamana, a Mande language spoken in Mali, and proto-Ịjọ as well as a possible Bantu cognate (Table 5).

Family Ijoid Mande Bantu

Language P-Ịjọ Bamana Proto-Bantu

Attestation imẽĩ mãĩ̌ *manga

Table 5. A scattered root for ‘manatee’

Figure 1. Genetic tree of Bantoid languages Bantoid

South

North

Bendi ? Tivoid

Tikar Dakoid

Buru

Mambiloid

Nyang Beboid Furu cluster Ekoid

Grassfields Ndemli

Ring

Menchum

A group Bantu including Jarawan Momo

Eastern

Figure 3: Genetic tree of Bantoid languages 167

Narrow Bantu

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives 10

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Presumed homeland of Jarawan Bantu 12

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KEY

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(C

(West CHADIC)

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MAIDUGURI Tiga Lake

T JI S N A I E KA

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Republic of Benin

KANO

Map 6: The expansion of Jarawan and Ekoid Bantu

Manatees were extensively hunted until recent times all along the Niger and this common root may well be evidence for the more remote origin of the Ịjọ-speaking peoples. 10. Bantu The Bantu expansion is outside the general area of this paper. However, Bantoid and Bantu languages are part of the pattern of Benue-Congo. The Bantoid languages, which occupy the Grassfields of Cameroon and areas along the Nigeria-Cameroun borderland are highly internally diversified compared with Bantu and must thus be older. The Bantu expansion is probably to be dated around 3500 BP, to judge by the early appearance of pottery along rivers in Cameroun/Gabon (Wotzka 1995; Clist 2005). Recent excavations (and finds of millet etc.) in Southern Cameroun suggest we do not understand this environment as well as we had imagined (Eggert et al. 2006). Figure 3 shows a speculative summary including all the language groups that have been described which are as it were ‘standing between’ Eastern Benue-Congo and Narrow Bantu. These languages are very numerous (>200) and also highly diverse morphologically. It seems likely that new languages are yet to be discovered and more work

in historical reconstruction will improve our understanding of how these languages relate to one another. A quirky aspect of the Bantu expansion usually excluded from textbook accounts is the ‘Bantu who turned North’. The Jarawan Bantu languages form a closely related cluster, scattered across north-central Cameroun and west into Nigeria, on the Benue River and south of Bauchi (Thomas 1927; Gerhardt 1982). Although these are perfectly standard Bantu languages, they are typically not represented on maps of ‘The Bantu’ because of the unevenness they would introduce into the graphic representation. They are very closely related to the Bantu A60 languages (i.e. those spoken in the extreme northwest of the Bantu area around the Sanaga river) and they have only not been treated as Bantu because their nominal prefixes are now ‘frozen’, possibly due to contact with Chadic (for example, they are excluded from the standard reference text, Nurse and Philippson 2003). On lexical grounds they should be treated as Bantu proper since their exclusion is typological rather than genetic. That said, there is no explanation for their curious distribution and no archaeological or genetic work to explain such a migration so contrary to the general flow. A similar, although slightly less striking migration is represented by the Ekoid languages which

168

The linguistic geography of Nigeria and its implications for prehistory are distributed along the Nigeria/Cameroun borderland in the extreme southeast. As Bantu languages, they must also have migrated from the Bantu region and pushed back the Lower Cross speakers around the Cross River. Map 6 shows the distribution of Ekoid and of the existing Jarawan Bantu languages with arrows representing their presumed migrations from Cameroun. 11. Conclusions Archaeology in Nigeria may fairly be said to be developing at ‘snail-speed’. Few new sites are being developed, except within the framework of the recent University of Frankfurt project, and even fewer are reliably dated. By contrast, there has been considerable progress recently in language survey, partly because of a general awareness of language loss in the Middle Belt. Civil insecurity, for example in the Niger Delta, has effectively brought research to a halt in many southern areas. Our general knowledge of the linguistic picture is unlikely to bring many new surprises, although many details wait to be refined, but the potential correlations with other aspects of prehistory are likely to remain ‘frozen’. The challenge then is to get archaeology moving and to suggest that interdisciplinary research is likely to bring out many new facets of national and regional prehistory.

Acknowledgements Thanks to the organisers for inviting me to speak, to the Kay Williamson Educational Foundation for partly sponsoring my travel and expenses, and to the many colleagues and villagers in Nigeria and elsewhere who have helped me over the years. References Alagoa, E. J., Anozie, F. N. & N. Nzewunwa 1988. The early history of the Niger Delta. Hamburg, Helmut Buske. Armitage, S. J., Drake, N. A., Stokes, S., El-Hawat, A., Salem, M. J., White, K., Turner, P., and McLaren, S. J. 2007. Multiple phases of North African humidity recorded in lacustrine sediments from the Fezzan Basin, Libyan Sahara. Quaternary Geochronology 2, 181-186. Bender, M.L. 1997. 2nd ed. The Nilo-Saharan languages: a comparative essay. Munich, Lincom Europa. Blench, Roger M. 1998. Le West African Shorthorn au Nigeria. In : Des taurins et des hommes: Cameroun, Nigeria. C. Seignobos and E. Thys eds. 249-292. Paris: IEMVT, Maisons-Alfort. Blench, Roger M. 1999. The westward wanderings of Cushitic pastoralists. In C. Baroin and J. Boutrais (eds.) L’Homme et l’animale dans le Bassin du Lac Tchad, 39-80. Paris, IRD. Blench, Roger M. 2004. Archaeology and Language: methods and issues. In J. Bintliff (ed.) A Companion To Archaeology, 52-74. Oxford, Basil Blackwell.

Blench, Roger M. 2006. Archaeology, Language and the African Past. Lanham, Altamira Press. Blench, Roger M. in press. Links between Cushitic, Omotic, Chadic and the position of Kujarge. In M. van Hove ed. Proceedings of the 5th International Conference of Cushitic and Omotic languages, Köln, Rüdiger Köppe. Breunig, P., Franke, G. and M. Nüsse 2008. Terracotta animals around Lake Chad. Antiquity 82, 423-437. Clist, Bernard 2005. Des Premiers Villages aux Premiers Européens autour de l’estuaire du Gabon Quatre Millénaires d’interactions Entre L’homme Et Son Milieu. Ph.D. Thesis. Université Libre De Bruxelles Faculté de Philosophie et Lettres. Close, Angela E. 1995. Few and far between: early ceramics in North Africa. In W.K. Barnett and J.W. Hoopes eds. The emergence of pottery: technology and innovation in ancient societies, 23-37. Washington, Smithsonian Institution. Drake, N.A. and Bristow, C. 2006. Shorelines in the Sahara: geomorphological evidence for an enhanced monsoon from palaeolake Megachad. The Holocene 16, 901-112. Eggert, M.K.H., Höhn, A., Kahlheber, S., Meister, C., Neumann, K. and Schweizer, A., 2006. Pits, graves and grains: archaeological and archaeobotanical research in southern Cameroon. Journal of African Archaeology 4, 2:273-298. Ehret, Christopher 2001. A historical-comparative reconstruction of Nilo-Saharan. Köln, Rudiger Köppe. Gasse, F. and Van Campo, E., 1994. Abrupt post-glacial climate events in West Africa and North Africa monsoon domains. Earth and Planetary Science Letters 126, 435–456. Gerhardt, L. 1982. Jarawan Bantu -The mistaken identity of the Bantu who turned north. Afrika und Übersee LXV, 75-95. Jenewari, Charles E. W. 1983. Defaka: Ịjọ’s closest linguistic relative. Delta Series No. 2. Port Harcourt, University of Port Harcourt Press. Jousse, Hélène 2006. What is the impact of Holocene climatic changes on human societies? Analysis of West African Neolithic populations’ dietary customs. Quaternary International 151, 63–73. Kleinewillinghöfer, Ulrich 1996. Die nordwestlichen Adamawa-Sprachen. Frankfurter Afrikanistische Blätter 8, 81-104. Kleinewillinghöfer, Ulrich 2001. Jalaa – an almost forgotten language of Northeastern Nigeria: a language isolate? Sprache und Geschichte in Afrika 16/17, 239271. Ligers, Z. 1964-1966-1969. Les Sorko – maitres du niger. Etude ethnographique. (V fascicules) Paris, Librairie de cinq continents. Nurse, Derek and Gerard Philippson, eds. 2003. The Bantu languages. London, Routledge. Sutton, John E. G. 1974. The Aquatic Civilization of Middle Africa. Journal of African History 15(4), 527546. 169

West African Archaeology: New developments, New perspectives Sutton, John E. G. 1977. The African aqualithic. Antiquity 51, 25-34. Thomas, N.W. 1927. The Bantu languages of Nigeria. In [no named ed.] Festschrift Meinhof, 65-72. Hamburg, Friederichsen. Williamson, Kay 1998. Defaka revisited. In N. C. Ejituwu (ed.) The Multi-disciplinary Approach to African

History. Essays in honour of Ebiegberi Joe Algoa, 151183. Port Harcourt, University of Port Harcourt Press. Wotzka, Hans-Peter 1995. Studien zur Archäologie des zentral-afrikanischen Regenwaldes. Köln: HeinrichBarth Institut.

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