Sunday, October 21, 2012

The Evil Forest.


                                                    The Evil Forest.

                                                    By: Wilton Sankawulo

(Brought to you by "Liberia History and Culture"(S.Weah).

If you see animal tracks around a Town without traps, it does not mean that the townsmen do not know how to set traps. If you see bachelors living with beautiful, single girls without proposing marriage to them, it does not mean that these men are not interested in marriage.

Once a young, beautiful woman went to a certain Town and walked straight to a small, round house before which a fine young man sat in a rattan chair. She told the young man, "I want to marry you".
The young man looked at the woman in utter amazement. A woman making a proposal to him was something he had never expected to experience in his lifetime. How did she know I was a single man anyway? thought he. He accepted the proposal out of curiosity rather than interest, for he wanted to study this young lady to know what sort of woman she was.
"Thank you for accepting my proposal ", the young woman said, growing relaxed and cheerful. The young man brought her a stool. They sat under the starry sky. "The last request I want to make", the woman continued, "is that in our marriage I play the man and you the woman."
"What are you talking about?" the young man asked, perplexed and highly disturbed.
"Don't let that bother you, young man," the woman replied.
"My dear lady," cried the young man, "I understand your situation. Women are human beings like men. They too have feelings! So you have the right to make a proposal to me. But to expect me to play the woman in our marriage is altogether unacceptable."
"Listen" the woman said. "When I grew up I planned on marrying a man to serve him. We women always feel that men ought to make our farms, hunt for us; fish for us; and build our houses. On behalf of womanhood I would rather do these things for a man. So don't worry. As this is the Dry-time, the first job I want to tackle is to start our farm. When I begin, cook for me each day, prepare my bath, sweep the house, make the bed, and bring my food at noon."
The same curiosity that had led the man to accept the marriage proposal persuaded him to agree to the second one. Let me do what the woman wants and see what happens, he thought,
During the week the woman had the blacksmith of the town make a big cutlass for her. It was a heavy cutlass with a sharp edge. Then she told her husband that she had seen some good farmland near the town for growing rice, and would not venture further. She would make a large farm; he should be prepared to work hard to plant all of it with rice, since that was a woman's share of the farm work. For several days the woman walked through the high forest around the town. To her delight she saw that the luxuriant forest on the western outskirts was fallow; she decided to use it. When she told her husband about her decision, he objected to it with horror.
"It's an Evil Forest" he cried, his eyes poking out in fear. Then he told her in a whisper: "Don't let anyone else hear that you wanted to make a farm in it. If you love me and yourself, listen to my advice".
"Remember I told you at the beginning that I would play the man and you the woman!" the woman said. "You are playing the woman very well. Women are by nature scared and soft-hearted. That's why they always want their husbands to be strong, brave and wise. And that is what I am. Don't worry. Leave everything to me."
"But you are a stranger in this town!"
"I said don't worry", the woman said curtly. "No more comment!"
"You know", the man said, trying to think of what to tell the woman to dissuade her from farming in the evil forest, "if you see animal tracks around a town without traps, it doesn't mean that the townsmen do not know how to set traps. The men of this town are good farmers. So don't think we naturally like to play the woman. I agreed to your proposal out of curiosity. If that forest could be made into a farm, you wouldn't have seen it fully grown. For your own sake, take my advice".
The woman still paid no attention; so he said no more.
One fine morning she took her cutlass and went into the evil forest. She saw no omen. Nothing convinced her that the forest was evil. So she started clearing the undergrowth. At noon the young man brought her some food. To his amazement she had cleared more than an acre of undergrowth.  She ate sparingly and resumed working. In one day she cleared five acres.
The next morning, when she returned to the forest, she saw that more than twenty acres of undergrowth had been cleared in her absence. She shuddered with fear. "What is the cause of this?" she wondered. But she was brave enough to resume working. At noon the man brought her food.
"Don't you think the clearing is large enough now for one farm?" he suggested. The area cleared was as large as two normal farms combined.
"I think so", the woman said quickly and returned to work, thinking all the time about the strange incident. Who had helped to cut the bush in her absence?
The next day she returned to find more than fifty acres of undergrowth cleared. She trembled and started running back to town, but remembering what she had told the young man, she stopped and went back to work. At noon the young man set out with some food for her, but did not arrive until sundown, because the clearing had grown exceptionally wide and he had to walk almost the whole day before reaching her. The woman did not eat, but told him instead that they should go back to the town.
On reaching the town she went straight to bed in her sweat-drenched work clothes. All night she was restless in bed, thinking. The young man's advice began making sense to her, but she couldn't give up. That would make her a woman. A man must always complete any project he begins. The following day she took an axe to cut down the trees, for she realized that the clearing was large enough, in fact too large for one farm. At noon the man took some food to her and saw that she had cut down many trees. He startled with surprise at the amount of work the woman had already done; he couldn't do that much work in one day. She ate and then returned to the town. When she went back to the farm the next day she saw that all the trees had been cut in her absence. Utterly confused and sick with surprise, she returned home quietly and met the young man blowing on the fire under a rice pot.
"What happened?" asked he. "You left the farm early today!" "Nothing," she heaved a sigh, looking absently into the distance. Laying her axe down she went into the bedroom, undressed and went to bed.
"Are you sick?" the young man called to her, but she did not reply.
Thinking that something strange might have happened to her, he went into the room and opened the bamboo window. Rays of sunlight with dancing motes poured into the room. The woman had covered herself snugly with a blanket and was curled up on her side facing the wall.
"What happened?" the young man asked again, bending over her, his lips parted, his hands resting on his kneecaps to support his body. Turning her head backwards briefly and glancing at his face, she said, "I don't feel well today." There were streaks of tears on her fat cheeks. The young man went back to the cooking. When he had finished, he put a bowl of rice for her on a table in the bedroom and went out to the evil forest, where he discovered that all the trees had been cut down. He nodded several times and concluded that his wife had been awestruck by the strange incident. "Why didn't she listen?" he said to himself. "To turn back now will be just as dangerous as going forward."
His wife's shock developed into an illness and for several months he was forced to nurse her. One day, when she seemed to have recovered he told her:
"Let's burn the farm. It's dry now." "You think it's dry enough?" she asked. "You want to draw back?" the man said with severity.
"No, no;" she said with a sudden burst of excitement. She couldn't draw back and still be a man. If the unburned farm remained lying in waste, it would forever confront her as evidence of her laziness.
"Let's burn it, if you think it is ready for burning," she declared.
Towards the end of the dry-time they burned the farm, and it burned very well. When the rainy season began the man started planting the farm with rice, in keeping with a woman's share of farm work. He needed only to begin. When he went to the farm each morning, he saw that a great deal of it had been planted in his absence. He worked only four days on the farm and it was all planted with rice. Normally he wouldn't have been able to plant half of it with rice, however strenuously he might have worked throughout the planting season.
When the farm was all planted, they spent most of their time in town while the rice grew, for neither birds nor animals bothered it, and as the forest land was extremely fallow, they did not need to weed it.
At harvest time the king of the monkeys gathered together all  his subjects, took them to the farm, and they consumed every bit of the rice. When the young man and his wife inspected the farm early one morning, they discovered to their dismay that all the rice was gone. They stood on the edge of the farm for a long time, speechless and terror stricken, staring at the empty farm and at each other. Then all of a sudden, they saw a herd of monkeys, their tails raised in the air, walking defiantly into the bush on the other side of the farm.
"I told you!" the man said to his wife. "You have caused us to make a farm in the evil forest and this is our reward! You see, the townspeople do not stop anyone making a farm here. After all, nobody wants to keep an evil forest. But anyone who makes a farm on this spot does so at his own risk. Our work has gone in vain and it is too late to make a new farm. I told you!" he cried. "I told you! I told you! We're going to starve! We will starve! You're a stubborn woman."
The gathering anger in the man's voice frightened the woman. Suddenly he started boxing the air with his clenched fists and howling curses at her. She defended herself with her arms and retreated, tripping over logs and rocks. Eventually he calmed down, sighed, and bowed his head.
"Don't worry", she said. "Those monkeys will pay for their mischief. They can't eat all our rice and go free. I'll set lifa behind the farm. Don't be disturbed. Rely on me."
Early the following morning the woman went to the bush to make the traps. The man refused to accompany her; he sat all day on his porch brooding over the misadventure. "Why did I allow her to go on with this sacrilegious affairs?" he muttered. "Infatuation! Yes, that's it! Allowing a woman to treat me like this!hat does it look like? Stupid! Senseless! A woman telling me to play the woman and me agreeing to it! I am a fool! Yes, I am a complete fool," the man cussed himself repeatedly. When he became tired of cussing, he went into the house, lied down awhile and then returned to the porch. He then walked around the house, down to the nearby river bank and back to the house again, talking to himself all the while.
Since the couple's actions were unheard of, no one came to console the man. After all, his condition was to be expected; so he was watched from a distance, like a disease. Since no medicine man could or would help him, the young man was left to wander alone and ponder on the stubbornness of women and his stupidity.
In the evening the woman returned from the bush in high spirits; she told the young man that she had made twelve lifa around the farm."Those monkeys are now in danger," she kept saying, bobbing her head vigorously. But her reassuring words only worsened the man's condition. She caressed and hugged him in an effort to cheer him up, but he remained unresponsive and lifeless. In desperation, she ran to the outskirts of the town, collected an assortment of herbs, and administered them without success. Sleep was the cure. They went to bed early that evening and woke up late in the morning, when a sudden burst of energy and well-being sprang up in the young man; he felt fresh and happy. This was not only because of the rest he had had. He had made a decision.
"You know," he told the woman forcefully, "look for another man. I don't want to be your man anymore."  "What are you talking about?" the woman cried with astonishment. "You mean to say you'll leave your wife at the first sign of trouble? Don't let me believe that. Be faithful companion. Some men love a woman only, when she is well, young and pretty. Don't act like such men. Be a faithful companion."
"I say we are not married anymore!" the man said harshly. "Look for a different man."
"Well," the woman said, embarrassed, "let me check the traps tomorrow and share with you whatever I get. The you may go your way. All right?"
"I'll wait till tomorrow," the man said, walking away.
She went to the traps the next morning and brought back a dozen dead monkeys. The monkey corpses dangled from her shoulders as she walked proudly to the house. When the young man spied her, he ran to her eagerly and helped carry them into the house. That day they ate a lot of monkey meat and put the rest of it on a dryer suspended over the fireplace to dry.
"I told you,"the woman said smiling. "Those monkeys will not go free. We don't have rice but we will have all the meat we want. We can sell some of our meat and buy rice with the money."
"I've changed my mind", the man told her with a smile. "What?" she stared at him with warmth.
"There's a point to what you said. A very important point. It's not good for a man to leave his wife just because of trouble. If you promise me you won't make the same mistake again, we could remain married."
"A baby antelope can show it's mother a trap," the woman said soberly and bowed her head sadly. Pulling herself together continued in a quite voice: "You know, if you allow a starving man to help himself to your food, he'll eat all of it. I've always envied men the role they play in marriage. I thought it was kingly. To have someone wait on you, to have the power to make the last decisions on important issues, to walk about with confidence, these are some of the characteristics of men which I have always envied. Now I see that  they are not so easy and delightful as they seem. If a woman tries to play a man's role in life, she'll end up overplaying it." Tears seeped out of her shiny eyes. She bowed her head remorsefully. The young man sidled to her and held her in his sinewy arms. "Now I know...I know.." she wept.
"Don't let that bother you", the man said, pressing her against his body. "When I agree to play the woman, I was not doing it only out of curiousity as I said. I myself have always envied women the role they play in life. The mere word "mother" carries so much meaning and affection. We even call the earth mother and all that. I thought women had the best of everything....Don't let us drag things out. I will not leave you no matter what happens."
"From now on I'll play the woman and you play the man", the woman promised.
"let's forget about who will play what", the man retorted sharply. "Do you think when you get sick I won't make hot water for your bath, cook for you, and take care of you just because I am a man? Let's be everything to each other."
His words had a soothing effect upon her. She stood up, wiped her face with the back of her hand, riffled in her wiry hair for a time, and grew relaxed as if a burden had descended from her head.
The next morning she visited her traps again and brought back eleven monkey corpses. The following day she brought ten. This went on from day to day, the number decreasing, until one morning when one of her traps caught only a big, red monkey, which had apparently fought fiercely to free itself and run away, as was shown by the loose thatch in the trap; the trap sticks which she had tied firmly together were now held only loosely by the piassava fibers. She gritted her teeth and looked grimly at the monkey. Then she took it down and set the trap again, her gaze still fixed on the creature.
''I'not dead yet", the monkey told her. "Take your cutlass and cut my head off."
The woman held her breath; her heart pounding her ribs furiously; she crouched to run away, but the monkey stood up with a stagger and said, "if you run I'll chase you. Wherever you go I'll go until I catch you. I told you what to do, and that you must do if you know what is good for you. Let me repeat: Take your cutlass and cut my head off."
In fear, confusion, and desperation the woman took her cutlass and hit the monkey with the blunt side many times until it lay on the ground dead and mangled in a pool of blood. She hadn't cut off the head. She picked up the monkey to carry home, but just before entered the town it told her.
"I'm not dead yet. Build a fire right here and burn the hair off my body."
"Well, then wait here let me go for fire," she said harshly, dropping the monkey to the ground with a thud.
"You may go," the monkey said, "I won't bother chasing you. But if you don't bring back the fire right away, you'll drop dead."
The woman ran to the blacksmith's shop which was located on the edge of the town. Fortunately she found the blacksmith at work and he gave her some live charcoals on a piece of zink with which she built a fire and burned the hair off the monkey. When she had finished; the monkey said:
"I'm not dead yet. Take your cutlass and cut me to pieces, and then get some fresh leaves and pack me in them. No more mistake this time. You didn't cut my head off as I told you before."
The woman cut the monkey to pieces; gathered some goa leaves and packed the meat in them. When she took the meat home, her husband was disappointed for she had a package in her hand rather than monkey corpses.
"An unlucky day, heh?" he said, grinning. "Well, a hunter can't be lucky everyday. Maybe the monkeys are getting to know the location of your traps.
The woman made no comment. Placing the package near the fireplace, she told the man to loosen it, wash the meat and put it on the dryer. Only one of her lifa had caught a monkey; not wishing to bring a lone monkey corpse to town, she had decided to make a package of it. Would he please loosen the package, wash the meat, and put it on the dryer?
"No, don't wash me and put put me on the dryer. Cook me," said the monkey meat. The man started and stared aghast at the package.
"The voice can't possibly come from the package," he whispered.
"Perhaps it's my wife speaking." In a loud voice he called to his wife, who had gone into the bedroom: "Were you talking to me?"
"Since when have you started hearing voices?" she asked, coming out of the bedroom with quickened steps. "Nobody talked to you! Loosen the package and put the meat on the dryer!" she told the man roughly and went back into the room.
The young man untied the package and washed the meat in a pan, but when he was about to place it on the dryer,  it said: "No, I told you to cook me. Understand! Put me into a pot and cook me!"
"What--what is this, my people!" the man cried. "Come! Come and hear your meat talking! You ara terrible woman! he called as he scattered the meat all around.
"You people are not children, but full-grown adults," the monkey meat said. "So act sensibly. I'm not asking you to do anything unusual. Put me into a pot and cook me!"
 "And you couldn't do something that simple?" the woman chided the man, staring at him reproachfully. Stunned, the man watched her with amazement, speechless.
The woman gathered the meat together in a pan, washed it, put it in a pot, added water, salt, pepper and oil and placed the pot on the fire; she nervously hitched firewood together under the pot and blew on the fire.
After the meat had boiled quite awhile, it said, " I'm done now. Take the pot down, put me into a pan, and eat me."
At this the man ran to the porch, shouting to the woman over his shoulder. "From today, I'm no longer your husband! You may have the house, and everything in the house, including your meat! If I follow you any further I'll loose my life!" He disappeared from the porch.
The woman took the pot down, emptied it in a pan, ate plenty of the meat and drank the soup until she was filled. She made an attempt to cover the rest of the soup and the meat with a plate until evening, but the monkey meat said:
"Eat all of me if you know what is good for you."
Fearfully she stuffed herself with all the meat. In the afternoon she roamed dejectedly about the town, crying and not knowing what to do. Her stomach bulged as if she was pregnant, and pained her severely. In the evening she felt like relieving herself and went into the bush, where she passed out the monkey!
"Take your cutlass and cut my head off", the monkey told her.
The woman ran with all her might to the town. But as she was about to enter the town, the monkey suddenly grabbed her by the breasts, swung her from side to side, and she began squealing and screaming excessively. She then cried hysterically, calling for help.
Luckily, the blacksmith who was still in his shop pounding a red-hot iron, heard her cry and ran to her immediately; he surprisingly saw the monkey hooked to the woman's breasts.
"What!" he cried. "You mean to say monkey wants to have a woman? I can't believe it! No I can't!"
He ran back to his shop and brought the long, red-hot iron he had been pounding and pierced the monkey in the ear with it. The iron went through the monkey's head and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud; wriggling in pain.
"Mr. Blacksmith," it said as the blacksmith pulled the iron out of his head. The blacksmith winced, but he was man enough not to run away. The woman, who was no longer surprised by the monkey's incredible behaviour, stood still and listened. "Mr. Blacksmith, you saved this woman," the monkey continued weakly. "It's unlawful to make a farm or set traps in the Evil Forest. This woman broke both laws. The spirit of the forest commanded us monkeys to eat her rice. I am the king of the monkeys. After we had eaten up all the rice, the spirit thought that would have scared the woman away; to mysteriously lose all the rice on such a large farm should frighten any sane person. Of course, she did very little of the work. The farm made itself! This sort of mystery did not put her off, however. When we had eaten the rice she went right back and made Lifa to catch us. By the time I took notice of the traps, too many monkeys had already been killed. I told the Spirit of the forest about the senseless killings, and he gave me the power of Speech to tell the woman to remove her traps. While I waited for her one of them caught me by accident. Since she wanted to kill, I thought I'd let her kill me for the rest of her life. I could keep coming back to life to give her the chance to kill again and again."
"King Monkey," said the blacksmith, "I'm not interested in long talks. Leave the woman alone and go back to the forest."
"No," said the monkey, "I'll die now, you have spoiled my plan." "What plan?" the blacksmith asked, a fearful look on his face. "The spirit of the forest told me that no one who makes traps for monkeys in the evil forest would ever succeed in killing them again. I forgot to have him protect us from all human beings. It looks as if human beings in general like to kill."

"What do you mean, king Monkey?" cried the blacksmith.

"You see," said the monkey, "this woman would have never succeeded in killing me. She could cut my head off, cut me to pieces, cook me, and even eat me, and still I would come back to life. These are the very things she has been doing to me all day. I could have escaped into the bush long ago, but I wanted her to have unlimited opportunities to kill, but now you have killed me, Mr. Black, because you have never set traps for monkeys in the Evil Forest. Thus, if you kill a monkey it cannot live again. Life is deserting me." Suddenly overcome with weakness, the monkey stirred uneasily, gasped, and died. "Bury me," were his last words to the blacksmith and the woman.

The woman and the blacksmith obediently dug a grave right there and then and buried the monkey.

                             ***************END******************
            (Brought to you by: Liberia History and Culture)October, 2012.
                                          S. Weah


   



Monday, August 13, 2012

West Point of Monrovia in 1878.


                                                     Arial View of West Point

                                               West Point of Monrovia in 1878.

West Point was initially known as the Mesurado Peninsula. On this Peninsula was the Fishing Village of the Kru people, at that time the Kru People had a vertical tattoo in the middle of their faces. With that mark they were untouchable during the Slave Trade. No one could buy nor sell a Kru man and they roamed all the Coasts of Liberia in their boats.
All ships bringing Emigrants or Settlers to Mesurado anchored at West Point and smaller boats were used to take them over the Mesurado River to Monrovia. West Point is Monrovia's most Natural Harbor.
Today West Point is only known as a Slum, with no further history attached to it.

 On April 21, the Azor set sail with 206 emigrants. A young reporter for the News and Courier, A.B. Williams, accompanied the emigrants all the way to Monrovia and wrote a comprehensive account of the voyage.
In that account is the detailed description of West Point, but not with the name west Point.


1878__Description of West Point.

(Culled from the Logs of "The Azor").

Now we were inside the Cape, and on the Mesurado River, which here is about half a mile wide. 
On the left(Vai Town) the beach stretches away, with a landscape of wooded country extending back from it. 
On the right(West Point) a bit of white beach comes out, and behind it is a small extent of flat land, lying between the foot of the hill and the water. Among the trees and bushes of this little plain are to be seen the thatch houses composing the village where the Kroos live, while on the beach are generally a few sleek looking little cattle, Kroo men and women, and a number of canoes, the latter drawn out of the water and resting bottom up. 
A little further up past this beach the green trees and wild India rubber vines again come down to the water, which here is placid and clear, bending over and almost sweeping it. Under the roots of the trees the water has worn away the soil, leaving the reddish looking stones bare. Some of these trees are valuable, among them being cam wood. 
Past this, and a few yards further up, the water runs in again, forming a shallow little bay, and we see the town of Monrovia.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Krumen of West Point Boards the Emigrants' Ship(The Azor) in 1878.

Behind the bar there was a glimpse of still water and a clump of trees. This was Monrovia, with its cape, as first seen that morning. Some of the passengers began singing:
“Land ahead, its fruits are waving, O'er its fields of endless green, And the living waters loving Shores where Heavenly forms are seen.”
But the Heavenly forms were seen about then, and the singing stopped. They consisted of
A FLEET OF “DUG OUT” CANOES,
each propelled by two or three gentlemen in the aforementioned state of near nudity, with paddles shaped like a pointed spade, or a trowel bayonet. These individuals came paddling out through the surf like mad, and soon reached the ship's side to which the emigrants eagerly crowded. Each of the new arrivals had a dark blue line about an inch broad tattooed from the roots of his hair to the end of his nose, and it was discovered that all had on some clothes. Some had only a cloth, others a coat and cloth, others a coat only, others a shirt, one all three. They had each suspended about their necks a string or two of beads, and small bags of “medicine.” Some had hats, some gaudily trimmed smoking caps, some ridiculous woollen night caps. It reminded one of the old Mother Goose melody:

“Hark, hark, the dogs do bark, Beggars come to town, Some in rags, and some in Tags, and some in velvet gown,”
except that there was nothing in the remotest degree suggestive of velvet gown. These fellows gabbled away among themselves in some heathenish and unknown dialect, with a great many “o's” and short and long “a's” in it. They occasionally addressed us in some few words of imperfect English. I at once conceived the idea that they were the original intoners. Their whole language seemed to be a series of intonations. Their words for “yes” is a sound something like a drunken man's utterance of the letter N, and they say it so much as a High Church Episcopalian does the last syllable of “amen,” that the resemblance is startling.

BOARDED BY THE NATIVES.

The emigrants were the most disgusted and crestfallen looking set that ever I saw. They wandered disconsolately around inquiring axiously of each other whether these were specimens of Liberians. “Why,” said the passengers indignantly, “they can't even talk English.” The mate stationed himself at the gangway and ordered every canoe to keep off, forbidding our visitors to fulfil their announced desire to come aboard. The rascals paddled around, however, and made a feint of climbing up on the side, and when the vigilant officer rushed around to drive them back, their companions streamed in over the gangway in such numbers and scattered about the ship so quickly that it was impossible to get them off except by inaugurating a knock-down and drag-out fight which would have been unpleasant. The whole gang therefore got aboard. The head men immediately sought the captain, and produced their “books,” i. e. their written recommendation of good character and working ability procured from various captains, and carried in water-tight tin tubes about twelve inches long by two thick, suspended about their necks. It then transpired that our new friends were Kroomen, that is members of the Kroo Tribe of Africans. Detachments of this tribe, which is a very large one, are scattered up and down the west coast. They are amphibious animals, and will do no work except on or in the water. Their perfect familiarity with that element, and their skill and endurance in rowing and working about ships, render them an indispensable auxiliary to the trader along the coast, especially as there are few good harbors, the ports having generally, like Monrovia, only open roadsteads, and vessels being loaded or unloaded by small boats. These visitors of ours were desirous of procuring work, and therefore the visit. Being disposed of by the captain, they spread themselves about the vessel, and soon gave proof that at least two bumps were largely developed on their craniums—inquisitiveness and acquisitiveness. They are the most whining, persistent and shameless beggars I ever saw.

THE KROOMAN.

A Krooman will beg until you give him nineteen shillings, then charge you the odd one for a service worth a penny, and want his pay in advance. If they, as a people, have a single redeeming trait of character, I confess I have never seen it manifested. They seem “villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves and treacherous by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars and adulterers by an enforced obedience to planetary influence.” Their inordinate inquisitiveness is unfettered by any conventional delicacy. The first one I ever spoke to stuck his head in the cabin, and wanted to know where was I from? Was America a big place? Were my father and mother there? What did they do for a living? Was I married? Wasn't I “co'tin'?” Why wasn't I? How old was I, and so on, ad infinitum, until it would up—had I an old coat, hat shirt, handkerchief, knife or piece of chewing tobacco to give him? No Krooman ever asks for pantaloons, and I think they begin to chew tobacco when about 4 years old. I will have more to tell of these gentry further on. The cause of the blue marks on their noses is, however, curious enough to be recorded here. It seems that in the time when the slave trade flourished, the Kroos were as useful watermen as now. The slavers would, therefore, never purchase one, or only did so to set him at liberty, fearing to incur the hostility of the tribe, and the Kroos adopted the blue mark as a sign of their nationality, which always protected them from purchase by the white men. They are very proud of having never been slaves, and frequently twit the Liberians with the fact, when a quarrel occurs. About 9 o'clock on the morning of our arrival, a large row boat, manned by eight Kroomen, pulled out with the harbormaster and emigration commissioner, who came aboard. 

( The Liberian Exodus. An Account of Voyage of the First Emigrants in the Bark “Azor,” and Their Reception at Monrovia, ).

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Origins of the Grebo Tribe.

                                                    (photo_Grebo king. 1800's)


The Glebo/Grebo-(Gle/jle= monkey)swift and agile as one.


The people who became the “Coastal Grebo/Glebo are said to have originated in the Krahn area of the Interior. They were driven out by Strangers encroaching on their Land and tapping their Palm wine trees. Eventually the strangers joined with other local Groups in expelling the Grebo/Glebo, then known as “Gbobo”, from their territory. According to Wallace, this event occurred in the year 1699.

By 1700, the “Gbobo” had migrated southeast to the Atlantic coast at “Bereby” in present-day Ivory Coast, joining a people they called the “Muniwe”.

They were originally welcomed, but desired a Land of their own not under “Muniwe” domination. Following the advice of a wide-ranging hunter, they decided to move west and southwest, up to the Coast to Cape Palmas. Stealing the Canoes of the Muniwe, they set off. Many Canoes capsized and some groups were discouraged and turned back. Those who survived reached Cape Palmas, according to Wallace, on June 4, 1701, and Renamed themselves “Glebo” because they had “Climbed the Waves” as the “Gle”(monkey) climbs trees.


(In the 1960s, Wallace worked with the U.S. Peace Corps program in Boston and later with linguists at the University of Liberia to standardize the Glebo/Grebo Orthography developed by Bishop Auer in the nineteenth century)

The word "Vai". (The Vai Tribe)

THE TERM 'VAI'

The term 'Vai' was first recorded, in the form 'Vei', by Dutch sources
of the first half of the seventeenth century. In these sources, it seems
to denote a political unit near Cape Mount, i.e. within modern Vailand'.

Although the lengthy account of this area drawn up presumably by Dutch
traders and published by Dapper in 1668 was much plagiarized by later
writers, virtually no new information about this area appeared in print
for nearly one hundred and fifty years. Around 1800, reports from the
British settlement at Sierra Leone contained occasional references to the
'Foy' people of Cape Mount; and from the 1820s the Americo-Liberians
of Monrovia came into increasingly close contact with the 'Vei'.

It was perhaps only in the nineteenth century that all sections of the ethno-
linguistic unit came to accept the name Vai, but as the earlier usage is
obscure, for convenience we shall employ the term to describe the whole
unit in earlier centuries.

The 1668 account contained a vocabulary of the Vai language, but under
the name 'Kquoja'; and the first words to appear in print under the name
Vai did not appear till 1840.

Vei = is an adjective and it means "Fertile", from Old Dutch.

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VEI___(1509)

1) Groeizaam 2) Mals 3) Vruchtbare grond 4) Welgedaan 5) Welig 6) Wulps 7) Zeer vruchtbaar