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References:
Cloth as money:
Dorward,D.C. "Precolonial
Tiv Trade and Cloth Currency" in International Journal of
African Historical Studies IX (4) 1976
Douglas,M. "Raffia
Cloth Distribution in the Lele Economy" Africa XXVII 1958
Johnson,M. "Cloth
as Money: the Cloth Strip Currencies of Africa" in Textiles of
Africa ed. Idiens,D. 1980
Martin, P. "Power,
Cloth and Currency on the Loango Coast" African Economic History
15 (1986)
Cloth as Medicine:
Aremu, P. "Yoruba
Traditional Weaving: Kijipa Motifs, Colour, and Symbols" Nigeria
Magazine (1982)
Blier,S.P. African
Vodun: Art, Psychology, and Power (1995)
Buckley, A. Yoruba
Medicine (1985)
Renne, E. Cloth That
Does Not Die (1995)
General:
Eicher,J. ed. Dress and
Ethnicity (1995)
Hendrickson,H. ed.
Clothing and Difference: Embodied Identities in Colonial and
Post-Colonial Africa (1996)
Perani,J. & Wolff,N.
Cloth, Dress, and Art Patronage in Africa (1999)
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While
the spiritual realm is an important dimension of cloth
production and use in parts of Africa we should not overlook the
fact that for many cloth weaving is simply a craft and an
occupation. This does not however, diminish the social
significance of cloth itself. Among the roles cloth has played
in the past in certain African cultures is to act as a form of
money. Examples of the use of cloth as money have been
documented from East Africa and the Congo, but the practise was
most widespread in a broad band of societies in the northern
Savannah belt that stretches across West Africa
from Senegal to Lake Chad. In each region the width of
cloth strips was normally standardised, and there would
therefore be a regular number of such strips of a standard
length needed to make a woman's wrapper cloth. This would become
the unit of value, with
smaller transactions paid for with one or more strips, and
larger ones with a whole roll of cloth as it came from the loom.
Arab chroniclers recorded cloth money of this type in use as
early as the fourteenth century. Cloth was a convenient form of
money because it was useful to everyone, relatively durable,
easily subdivided into quite small units, and could be
transported to meet the needs of the long distance traders who
were vitally important to the regional economy.
In the Congo in the C16th the Portuguese colonial authorities
tried to establish control over cloth money by stamping each
raffia sheet with an authorising mark.
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Undecorated
raffia cloth squares used for ritual transactions, Kuba
peoples, Congo. Author's collection. |
Another
dimension of the social significance of cloth in many African
societies provides a stark contrast to the abstract economic
role as money. Textiles worn regularly next to the skin, whether
for everyday use, or in particular ritual contexts, take on
something of the personal identity of the wearer as they absorb
the secretions of the body. This close tie between cloths and
their owners, a symbolic extension of the day to day reality of
cloth use, makes them a powerful metaphorical ingredient in
a variety of indigenous medicinal practices.
A section of an cloth worn regularly would often form
part of the ingredients attached to a Fon bocio figure
intended to act as a substitute target for any ill-fortune of
malevolent forces directed against its owner. Yoruba herbalists
would burn small pieces of hand-woven cloth as an ingredient of
amulets, while they were particularly appropriate for curing
barren women or those troubled by persistent miscarriages. It is
likely these remedies drew symbolic force from the
significance of the cloth mothers used to carry their baby
securely on their back.
Although
many of the more simple types of African cloth
were basically interchangeable, allowing them to be used as a
currency, African textiles are also characterised by a wide
variety of distinctive local styles and traditions, many of
which were confined to the weavers of a single town or region.
This localised pattern of stylistic development had two
apparently contradictory impacts on issues of personal and group
identity. On the one hand it contributed to the development of
notions of localised group identity, as people of a particular
area often dressed in a distinctive cloth design allowing them
to be readily distinguished from strangers and travellers. This
assisted in the formation of senses of tribal or ethnic identity
in the colonial period, with textile forms among the cultural
resources available for the construction of new dimensions of
group identity. A conventionalised picture of "tribal"
dress styles, for example, for the Yoruba, Igbo, or Ijo of
Nigeria, or the Asante of Ghana, often developed, although
usually from a considerable oversimplification of the true
complexity of local textile fashions.
On the other hand however, the existence of these
localised styles in the pre-colonial period was the basis for
much of the long-distance trade in textiles. Cloth didn't just
move from weaving areas to clothe people in regions where no
cloth was produced. Equally if not more important was the demand
for different types of cloth than could be produced in the home
region. In some cases this was due to economic specialisation -
in highly developed textile producing areas such as Kano cheaper
cloth was imported for local everyday use while weavers
concentrated on making higher value styles, much of which were
intended for export. In other cases, particularly among the
wealthy kings, chiefs, and trading communities, the motive was
to enhance prestige by accumulating and displaying the sheer
variety of cloths. This interest extended to both locally-woven
and imported cloths - since the sixteenth century Europeans had
been importing a huge variety of silks, velvets, and damasks to
Africa. Samuel Johnson, the pioneering Yoruba historian records
one example of such a competitive display
when the Alaafin, ruler of the Oyo empire, was visited by
a wealthy King from the coast. In front of a thousand of Oyo's
subject kings the visitor matched each of the Alaafin's changes
of robe with an equally rich robe of the same cloth. The Alaafin
was finally only able to outshine his visitor and sustain his
royal prestige by instructing his weavers to weave an unique
robe from the fibres of a silk-cotton tree.
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The
present Alaafin of Oyo, His Highness Oba Lamidi Adeyemi
III, wearing a new aso oke robe at a ceremony to confer a
chieftaincy title, Oyo, July 1995. Photo Duncan Clarke. |
We
can only touch on a few instances here. Check out the readings
listed at the left for a look at the topic in more detail. (c)
Duncan Clarke 2003
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