Background
Our story is set in a little fishing village called Lamba, in the shadow of a mountain fortress in a province of the war-torn Kingdom of Kongo.
Today the village is in the Democratic Republic of Congo near the port of Matadi. The city’s name comes from the Kikongo word for rocks: tadi, giving us a fleeting glimpse into the history of the Bakongo people, whose name may be derived from the Bantu word for mountains: nkongo.
Pay close attention and you might spot other clues left behind by the ancestors: in the shapes and images on the limestone outcrops around Lamba, the leopard head of the Congolese emblem, in capoeira dancing in Brazil, jazz music in New York and the story of Brer Rabbit read to children by mothers the world over.
The natural world held great significance for the residents of the Congo Basin. It was what separated their world from the mountain where the dead resided. The ancestors were the true owners of the world and from the depths of the river they influenced everything that went on in Lamba, from the quantity of fish caught to the number of children born.
Provided their laws were respected they used their powers to protect the earthly members of their clan. The chief was their representative on earth and the guardian of the ancestral relics. Chief Malongo’s name reflects this deep connection: Ma means the son of in Kikongo. The chief was a man of great status and a slit drum would have been played whenever he was addressed. When the delegation headed from Lamba to Matamba for an audience with the king, Chief Malongo would have been carried on a litter for the 250-mile journey. However, his leopard-skin necklace and the leopard teeth that adorned his cap were more than just a status symbol.
Through them the chief was imbued with the leopard’s strength and power. At village councils, called palavers, a drum called a mondo would have been played as the chief administered justice with the n’ganga by his side. The n’ganga was a herbalist and spiritual healer who also had a high status. He wore leopard-skin clothing decorated with bird feathers and used clay from the river bed to paint white circles around his eyes to help him detect evil forces. His frightening appearance would have inspired awe among the villagers. The n’ganga used magical substances kept in a n’kisi to bring good fortune to the village. The n’kiski was a hollowed-out container or figure that embodied the spirit of one of the n’ganga’s ancestors and the items within were imbued with ancestral force. They included herbs, claws, feathers and other natural substances but the key ingredient was clay from the
riverbed which added an extra layer of protection. To combat evil forces, a particularly aggressive n’kisi called a n’kondi was needed. The n’kondi was associated with birds of prey and may have been covered in feathers. Its reflective surface allowed the ancestral spirit to hunt down n’doki, malevolent beings who looked very much like witches to European outsiders. But n’doki weren’t innately evil. Instead, their destructive powers came from their intentions and the motivations behind them, particularly greed or envy. They used their powers to wreak havoc, causing infertility, illness and even death. At night they would turn into predatory birds and fly through the skies. Only the n’ganga had the power to ward off a n’doki or to repair any damage it may cause. Ordinary people could do some magic and might be contacted by ancestors through omens or dreams but only those with special powers like twins or albinos and the n’ganga could communicate with them directly and only the n’ganga was a match for a n’doki. Most
n’ganga were men but, like Kimpa, some women would train to become one. Later we will meet a very special woman who was a n’ganga in another part of the Kingdom.
In Lamba life was dictated by the elements, the seasons and the cycle of the sun. At night the sun descended into the ancestral realm before re-emerging into the land of the living at sunrise. When a child was born it was thought that a living sun had risen into the upper
world. It’s hardly surprising that a child like Moyi Kitoko would be revered by his mother. Two rainy seasons brought some relief from the constant heat. Huts had sloped roofs to guard against the rainfall which began in September when the women would hoe the fields into ridges to prevent erosion.
The section of the river, upstream of a series of dramatic waterfalls, supplied the villagers with species of fish that no one else on earth would ever taste. When they were not fishing the men might hunt goats or pigs with spears and arrows. The women would tend the fields and, in addition to cassava, might have grown peppers, bananas, yams or kola nuts. Huts were made out of baked clay, mud bricks, wood and grasses and sat on a foundation of stones. They would have been decorated with painted mats and had a fireplace where the women would make stew. They would use a pestle and mortar to pound cassava into flour for the mfundi dumplings to dip in it. This would be washed down with wine from the sap of palm trees which had been tapped by the men. It was said that it was for the men to bring the food wine and the women to bring the winefood. If the men didn’t bring the wine, the women would refuse to make the food. When the village wished to secure a royal bride for Lo, some of this wine would have
been poured into an elaborate cup decorated with pine leaves and sent to the King as an invitation to enter into discussions. The bark would have been kept to make clothing which would have doubled as blankets in the evening. The chief would have inherited his rank but from his maternal uncle rather than his father. However, despite the village hierarchy land was held in common and harvests were shared equally among the villagers regardless of status. Any surplus was traded at markets, paid to the king in taxes or left as offerings to the ancestors. History was passed down through folktales, song and dance.
Animals represented particular human characteristics and fables served to impart a moral lesson. Birds were portrayed as
messengers or avengers of crime and some tales would have been sung in the style of a bird. Characters included cunning tricksters, mythical monsters, avenging hunters and envious wives. Victims often met their demise at the bottom of a hole, having been pushed by a wily adversary. They might then come back to life, sometimes in animal form.
Dance was another medium through which stories were told, but was also used to celebrate
a plentiful harvest, honour new mothers or rejoice at the birth of twins. During the first stage of the dance the drum would have been played alongside the conflicting rhythm of the pestle and mortar. Then, the drummer would have launched into a continuous rhythm as the women rotated their hips.
However in 17th-century Lamba, there would have been little to celebrate. After decades of fighting between rival claimants to the throne villagers would have been traumatised and in a constant state of fear. Throughout the kingdom ordinary villagers and nobles alike were being taken prisoner. Some were forced to work for their captors but the majority were exported to Brazil or North Carolina as slaves. Those who escaped this fate risked going hungry as armies pillaged their fields for food. In Lamba villagers would have been ready to abandon their homes at a moment’s notice to take refuge in King João’s mountain stronghold at nearby Mbula. Their traditions too were under attack. Christianity had been practised for six generations
but Kongolese beliefs and customs had always coexisted alongside it. The Kongolese saw no contradiction between the two since there were many parallels. Even the Kongo cosmogram was a cross and symbolised rebirth. But 75 miles away in the royal mountain fortress of Kibangu, Capuchin priests were urging the King to clamp down on these practices and those who engaged in them. Throughout the realm women were being flogged for wearing the wrong clothes, villagers chastised for eating the wrong foods, and chiefs stripped of their regalia. Baganga 1 lived under constant
threat of excommunication, enslavement and execution as their religious communities burned to the ground around them.
In the valley below King Pedro’s enclosure lived one of the initiates of such a community, a young Christian noble woman called Kimpa Vita. Her Christian name was Dona Beatriz but her Kongolese name, Kimpa Vita, suited her better. Kimpa derives from the Kikongo word for fable or legend, whilst Vita means ambush or war. As a special type of n’ganga who specialised in social problems, she saw the effect the conflict was having on ordinary people and was deeply affected by it. She longed for peace and unity. In August 1704 she awoke following a period of sickness claiming that she had died and come back to life. She said that she was possessed by the spirit of St Anthony of Padua and that he had commanded her to go forth and preach her message to King Pedro. She climbed up the mountain to the fortress and demanded an audience with the King. In the name of St Anthony, she implored him to reoccupy the long-abandoned capital of São Salvador and reunite the kingdom for it was God’s will. Rebuked by him and later by his rival in Mbula, she preached her message in the villages instead. She claimed that Jesus had been born in São Salvador and baptised in Kikondi, just a few miles from Lamba. She rejected the Christian cross, denounced images of white saints as false idols and rewrote the Salve Regina to reflect Kongolese beliefs. Like Kongolese religion, her new faith stressed the importance of intention in determining who was good and who was evil. She waged war on all forms of greed and jealousy which were considered the source of the malevolent powers of n’dokis. As an effective infertility healer she was popular among women, since they lived in fear of being abandoned by their husbands. News of her miracles spread and her message of peace won her a huge following among villagers who had endured war, humiliation and fear for decades. By November they had marched on the long-abandoned capital and reclaimed it in the name of Saint Anthony. Kimpa Vita took up residence in the cathedral and sent missionaries, known as Little Anthonys, to the provinces and to rival kingdoms. Commoners and nobles alike flocked to her side, including the King’s own wife and one of the army commanders sent by him to reoccupy the city. When the priests’ denouncements of the new religion and excommunication of its followers proved ineffective, King Pedro began to recognise the political threat Kimpa Vita’s movement represented. She was arrested and, at the urging of Father Lorenzo put on trial for heresy. She received her death sentence in the King’s temporary capital in full view of the woodpile that had already been assembled by the crowd. The King and his Priest debated whether baby Antonio, who was still in his mother’s arms, should burned alongside her but ultimately spared his life. He was taken from her by church officials and would be baptised Jeronimo. His mother was beaten by a mob then dragged through the public square to the awaiting pyre. Vita Kimpa’s movement survived for a short time after her death but in 1709 King Pedro marched on the capital and defeated the remaining Antonians, stamping out the religion for good. But her ideas lingered in the villages of the Kongo Kingdom and echoes of her spirit of resistance could be heard centuries later in the defiant rallying cries of slaves from North Carolina to Haiti 2.
Historical figures
Religion and beliefs
Maps and locations
Geographical/locations
