BLACK MAGIC

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVII, Issue 19836, 27 June 1934, Page 10

BLACK MAGIC

.CONFLICTING OPINIONS. Black magic among African tribes has puzzled many white travellers and settlers and provoked conflicting opinions as to its genuineness. Is it wizardry or trickery? How much of it is a matter of hearsay, how much of personal observation? Mr C. T. Stoneham, both traveller and settler of proved experience, can claim to have studied the phenomenon at first hand. When living at Nanyuki, he states in "Africa All Over,” he knew a farmer named Hook who had gained the confidence of the Wakikuyu, who dwelt on the western slopes of Mount Kenya. One day a m’gunga, a wizard of the tribe—an old man completely bald, with seamed and wrinkled face—arrived at his farm Hook decideu to test his powers, and handed him a flint axe-head which he had brought from Ireland. He had found it near the Giant’s Causeway, and had then climbed a cliff to reach the inn where he was staying. During the walk a violent thunderstorm had broken. “Now tell :ne what you know about that,” he told the m’gunga. “I will give you five rupees if you tell me where I found it.” The old man considered the axe-head for a long time in silence. Then he began asking it questions:— "Bwana,” he said at length, “this stone comes from a country far distant, a land where it is cold and there is much rain. I think that when you found this there was a loud noise—perhaps a big storm. The place where this stone lived was very noisy all the time.” He pondered a while longer. a very steep hiir s After further questions, he added: “This stone was made a very long time ago by a people who were shenzi (barbarians) like us, but they were not black, they were white.” This impressed Hook greatly. He told Mr Stoneham that he thought the m’gunga must be a mind-reader and had divined the history of the axehead by reading the thoughts in its owner’s head.

True Prediction. Hook was about to embark on a safari. His houseboy told him that the staff had been up the night before listening to the soothsayer, who had told their fortunes—all except one man’s. Hook sent for the m’gunga and asked him why he would not tell Kariuki’s fortune. “The man is unlucky, Bwana,” was the reply; “before the moon is full again he will be dead, and that I would not tell him. He has no fortune . . . . He will be killed.” Hook set off. Before starting, he remembered that, some weeks previously, he had left a horse with a neighbour ten miles away. The. boy Kariuki, who knew it well, was ordered to go and bring it back. “Lead the horse by the rein round its neck.” Hook told him. "Do not try to ride it, because it has been at grass a long time, mid will be wild; it will get away from you if you are not careful.”

When Hook returned from his shoot two weeks later the boy had not returned. A search was made, and he was found dead on the veldt, roped to the grazing horse. Kariukik had apparently grown tired of walking, and decided to ride the animal, tying the rein to his wrist so that it might not escape. Some creature had frightened the horse; it had thrown its rider and dragged him to death. A labourer on one occasion reported to Mr Stoneham that a powerful m’gunga, who carried a gourd containing a dangerous poison, had taken possession of his hut. Mr Stoneham confronted the wizard with the poison; the possession of which was forbidden; he denied that it was harmful. “Very well, then,” said Mr Stoneham, “you shall eat it.” The m’gunga was disconcerted at first, but he did not demur; he poured some of the powder into his hand and swallowed it. A gasp of horror arose from all the black onlookers. "Eat more!” Mr Stoneham commanded. The m’gunga did so, and was none the worse for the meal. In the morning Mr Stoneham mixed some of the powder with the food of a fowl, and the fowl was dead by noon. A Famous Curse. At Sotik Mr Stoneham witnessed the imposition of the famous Lumbwa curse: “It is rarely the tribe solemnly curses one of their number, but when they do it has never been known to fail; the person cursed is overtaken by some calamity shortly afterwards.” A number of thefts, he explains, had taken place on the borders of the Lumbwa Reserve; the District Commissioner punished the tribe by confiscating their cattle. Then an Indian Who kept a store was murdered and robbed. The D.C. told the chiefs that if they did not produce the culprit be would fine them many more cows. The chiefs knew the thief—a man named Arapmyija, who had apparently acted independently, kept the spoils to himself, and vanished from the district. They paid the fine, and about 600 of the most important men in the tribe gathered together to curse solemnly the absent Arapmyna. Nothing further was heard for six months. Then a couple of native police men were journeying from Gil-gil to Thompson’s Palls, a locality nearly 200 miles removed from Sotik and the Lumbwa country. They espied a hut, hidden in the bush some distance from the track, and thought that the inhabitant might give them a drink of milk. At the door of the hut they cried, “Hodi!” until a man came out to them. They were surprised to see that it was a Lumbwa, a long way from his own country, but before they could make their wants known the man had realised the import of their uniforms and dived back into the hut. Upon entering, they found that the Lumbwa had committed suicide by placing the butt of his spear on the ground and throwing himself on the point. It was Arapmyna, who had been In hiding since his flight from justice.

WIZARDRY OR TRICKERY?