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Dwnload Full Life Span Human Development For Helping Professionals 4th Edition Broderick Test Bank PDF
Dwnload Full Life Span Human Development For Helping Professionals 4th Edition Broderick Test Bank PDF
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Patricia C. Broderick
Penn State Prevention Research Center
Pamela Blewitt
Villanova University
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gloomy-looking grove skirting the back of the village. It was in vain
that I attempted to unravel the origin or meaning of this superstition;
to all my questions the only answer I could obtain was that such was
the fashion of the country—a reason which they always had at hand
when puzzled, as they always were when the subject related to any
of their numerous superstitions. The fact is, that these practices still
remain, though their origin has long since been buried in oblivion.”
As with us, “to astonish the natives” is an almost universal
weakness, so is it the sable savage’s delight and ambition to
“astonish the white man;” and should he succeed, and the odds are
manifestly against him, there are no bounds to his satisfaction. The
traveller Laing, while travelling through Timmanee, a country not very
far from that over which old King Passol held sway, experienced an
instance of this. He was invited by the chief to be present at an
entertainment resembling what we recognize as a “bal masqué,” as it
embraced music and dancing. The music, however, was of rather a
meagre character, consisting of a single instrument made of a
calabash and a little resembling a guitar. The player evidently
expected applause of the white man, and the white man generously
accorded it. The musician then declared that what our countrymen
had as yet witnessed of his performance was as nothing compared
with what he had yet to show him. Holding up his guitar, he declared
that with that potent instrument, the like of which was not to be found
throughout the length and breadth of Timmanee, he could cure
diseases of every sort, tame wild beasts, and render snakes so
docile that they would come out of their holes and dance as long as
the music lasted. Mr. Laing begged the enchanter to favour him with
a specimen of his skill. The enchanter was quite willing. Did anything
ail the traveller? Was any one of his party afflicted with disease? no
matter how inveterate or of how long standing, let him step forward,
and by a few twangs on the guitar he should be cured. Mr. Laing,
however, wishing perhaps to let the juggler off as lightly as possible,
pressed for a sight of the dancing snakes, on the distinct
understanding that they should be perfectly wild snakes, and such as
had never yet been taken in hand by mortal. The musician cheerfully
assented, and, to quote the words of the “eye-witness,” “changed the
air he had been strumming for one more lively, and immediately
there crept from beneath the stockading that surrounded the space
where we were assembled a snake of very large size. From the
reptile’s movements, it seemed that the music had only disturbed its
repose, and that its only desire was to seek fresh quarters, for
without noticing any one it glided rapidly across the yard towards the
further side. The musician, however, once more changed the tune,
playing a slow measure, and singing to it. The snake at once
betrayed considerable uneasiness, and decreased its speed. ‘Stop
snake,’ sung the musician, adapting the words to the tune he was
playing, ‘you go a deal too fast; stop at my command and show the
white man how well you can dance; obey my command at once, oh
snake, and give the white man service.’ Snake stopped. ‘Dance, oh
snake!’ continued the musician, growing excited, for a white man has
come to Falaba to see you! dance, oh snake, for indeed this is a
happy day!’ The snake twisted itself about, raised its head, curled,
leaped, and performed various feats, of which I should not have
thought a snake capable. At the conclusion the musician walked out
of the yard followed by the reptile, leaving me in no small degree
astonished, and the rest of the company not a little delighted that a
black man had been able to excite the surprise of a white one.”
In no part of Africa do we find a greater amount of religious
fanaticism than in Old Kalabar. The idea of God entertained by the
Kalabarese is confined to their incomprehensibility of natural causes,
which they attribute to Abasi-Ibun, the Efick term for Almighty God;
hence they believe he is too high and too great to listen to their
prayers and petitions. Idem-Efick is the name of the god who is
supposed to preside over the affairs of Kalabar, and who is
connected mysteriously with the great Abasi, sometimes represented
by a tree, and sometimes by a large snake, in which form he is only
seen by his high priest or vice-regent on earth—old King Kalabar. Mr.
Hutchinson, who resided in an official capacity in this queer heathen
country, once enjoyed the honour of an acquaintance with a
representative of Abasi-Ibun. “He was a lean, spare, withered old
man, about sixty years of age, a little above five feet in height, grey-
headed, and toothless. He wore generally a dressing-gown, with a
red cap, bands of bamboo rope round his neck, wrists, and ankles,
with tassels dangling at the end. In case of any special crime
committed, for the punishment of which there is no provision by
Egbo law, the question was at once referred to King Kalabar’s
judgment, whose decision of life or death was final. King Ergo and all
the gentlemen saluted him by a word of greeting peculiar to himself,
‘Etia,’ meaning in English, you sit there, which, amongst persons of
the slave order, must be joined with placing the side of the index
fingers in juxtaposition, and bowing humbly, as evidence of
obeisance. He offered up a weekly sacrifice to Idem of goats, fowls,
and tortoise, usually dressed with a little rum. When famine was
impending, or a dearth of ships existed at old Kalabar, the king sent
round to the gentlemen of the town an intimation of the necessity of
making an offering to the deity, and that Idem-Efick was in want of
coppers, which of course must be forwarded through the old king. He
had a privilege that every hippopotamus taken, or leopard shot, must
be brought to his house, that he may have the lion’s share of the
spoil. Since my first visit to Kalabar this old man has died, and has
yet had no successor, as the head men and people pretend to
believe ‘twelve moons (two years) must pass by before he be dead
for thrice.’ Besides this idea of worship, they have a deity named
Obu, made of calabash, to which the children are taught to offer up
prayer every morning, to keep them from harm. Idem-Nyanga is the
name of the tree which they hold as the impersonation of Idem-Efick;
and a great reverence is entertained for a shrub, whose pods when
pressed by the finger explode like a pistol. In all their meals they
perform ablution of the hands before and after it; and in drinking, spill
a teaspoonful or so out as a libation to their deity before imbibing.
When they kill a fowl or a goat as a sacrifice, they do not forget to
remind their god of what ‘fine things’ they do for him, and that ‘they
expect a like fine thing in return.’ Ekponyong is the title given to a
piece of stick, with a cloth tied round it at the top, and a skull placed
above the cloth, which is kept in many of their yards as a sort of
guardian spirit. In nearly all their courts there is a ju-ju tree growing
in the centre, with a parasitic plant attached to it, and an enclosure of
from two to four feet in circumference at the bottom of the stem,
within which skulls are always placed, and calabashes of blood at
times of sacrifice. At many of the gentlemen’s thresholds a human
skull is fastened in the ground, whose white glistening crown is
trodden upon by every one who enters.
“A strange biennial custom exists at old Kalabar, that of purifying
the town from all devils and evil spirits, who, in the opinion of the
authorities, have during the past two years taken possession of it.
They call it judok. And a similar ceremony is performed annually on
the gold coast. At a certain time a number of figures, styled
Nabikems, are fabricated and fixed indiscriminately through the
town. These figures are made of sticks and bamboo matting, being
moulded into different shapes. Some of them have an attempt at
body, with legs and arms to resemble the human form. Imaginative
artists sometimes furnish these specimens with an old straw hat, a
pipe in the mouth, and a stick fastened to the end of the arm, as if
they were prepared to undertake a journey. Many of the figures are
supposed to resemble four-footed animals, some crocodiles, and
others birds. The evil spirits are expected, after three weeks or a
month, to take up their residence in them, showing, to my thinking, a
very great want of taste on the part of the spirit vagrant. When the
night arrives for their general expulsion, one would imagine the
whole town had gone mad. The population feast and drink, and sally
out in parties, beating at empty covers, as if they contained tangible
objects to hunt, and hallooing with all their might and main. Shots are
fired, the Nabikems are torn up with violence, set in flames, and
thrown into the river. The orgies continue until daylight dawns, and
the town is considered clear of evil influence for two years more.
Strange inconsistency with ideas of the provision necessary to be
made for the dead in their passage to another world. But heathenism
is full of these follies, and few of them can be more absurd than their
belief that if a man is killed by a crocodile or a leopard, he is
supposed to have been the victim of some malicious enemy, who, at
his death, turned himself into either of these animals, to have
vengeance on the person that has just been devoured. Any man who
kills a monkey or a crocodile is supposed to be turned into one or the
other when he dies himself. On my endeavouring to convince two
very intelligent traders of Duketown of the folly of this, and of my
belief that men had no more power to turn themselves into beasts
than they had to make rain fall or grass grow, I was met with the
usual cool reply to all a European’s arguments for civilization, ‘It be
Kalabar fash(ion), and white men no saby any ting about it.’ The
same answer, ‘white men no saby any ting about it,’ was given to me
by our Yoruba interpreter when up the Tshadda, on my doubting two
supposed facts, which he thus recorded to me. The first was, that the
Houessa people believe in the existence of the unicorn, but his
precise location cannot be pointed out. He is accredited to be the
champion of the unprotected goat and sheep from the ravages of the
leopard; that when he meets a leopard he enters amicably into
conversation with him, descants upon his cruelty, and winds up, like
a true member of the humane society, by depriving the leopard of his
claws. On my asking if a clawless leopard had ever been discovered,
or if the unicorn had proposed any other species of food as a
substitute, observing me smile with incredulity, he gave me an
answer similar to that of the Kalabar men, in the instance mentioned.
The second, to the effect that a chameleon always went along at the
same pace, not quickening his steps for rain or wind, but going
steadily in all phases of temperature, changing his hue in
compliment to everything he met, turning black for black men, white
for white, blue, red, or green, for any cloth or flowers, or vegetables
that fall in his way; and the only reason he gives for it when
questioned on the subject is, that his father did the same before him,
and he does not think it right to deviate from the old path, because
‘same ting do for my fader, same ting do for me.’”
Quite by accident it happens that this answer of the Yoruba man
to Mr. Hutchinson’s arguments forms the concluding line of the many
examples of Savage Rites and Superstitions quoted. It is, however,
singularly apropos. In this single line is epitomised the guiding
principle of the savage’s existence—“Same ting do for my fader,
same ting do for me.” This it is that fetters and tethers him. He is
born to it, lives by it, and he dies by it.
Burying Alive in Figi.
PART XII.
SAVAGE DEATH AND BURIAL.
CHAPTER XXVII.