7

The Other Marsh Men, an African Perspective

During his twenty-five years in Africa the Rev. John Roscoe, a missionary in Uganda from the Church Missionary Society, had acquired a vast knowledge of the continent and its people. In 1908, shortly before he was due to return to England, he had much on his mind. In his role as “Local Correspondent of the Royal Anthropological Institute,” he was always on the prowl for oddities, strange and grim ceremonies, evidence of cannibalism, and such. Now he had received a plea from the authorities at home to put aside his missionary duties and concentrate his remaining time on the anthropology of Ugandan tribes. He was very good at that.

Anthropologists back home, especially Sir James Frazer, the renowned author of The Golden Bough, whom Roscoe counted as a friend, wanted more from him and, God willing, he would provide for Sir James’s needs. Left to his own resources, he decided to take one last tour before heading home. He climbed into a canoe for a tour of the swamps of Lake Kyoga. This is a watercourse that is more like a broad, shallow swamp than a lake. It is formed by a vast widening of the Nile north of Jinja (Map 1, p. 17).

This was a new experience, and he remarked that in these swamps “. . . the eye rests upon a sea of green with feathery tufts . . . pretty to look upon . . . where numbers of busy people live.” The busy people he referred to were from the Bakene tribe, who lived out their entire lives in papyrus swamps and had done so for generations. Their houses were a long way from shore, but Roscoe had the advantage of a Bugandan boatman who knew the shallow water. The boatman punted them along in the fashion of a gondolier on a canal in Venice, and that was exactly the scene that came to mind as Roscoe skimmed by an ancient green wall as noble and venerable as any of the ancient stone walls in the city of the Doges. In place of palazzos, he saw here the simple papyrus houses of the inhabitants, the “busy people.”

The waterway he traversed was about a quarter mile long, and an old chief welcomed him, telling Roscoe that the Bakene had come there years ago to escape Arab slavers and rival tribes that robbed and laid waste to their huts on land.

“We decided to build our houses in the papyrus swamps and for many generations we have lived here permanently.”

“How do you cook?”

The chief showed Roscoe a mud mound in the center of his house, and above it Roscoe was astonished to see a round hole in the ceiling. He had traveled many places in Africa, had seen many things, but this was the first time he had ever seen an outlet for smoke in a hut.

He also noted that in the houses of the Bakene the floor consisted of stems of papyrus laid crosswise until a firm base was set that was several feet thick. Then a bed made of a wood frame was positioned and covered with dry papyrus stems. The chief felt it was important to raise the bed frame 4–5ft above the floor because a heavy rainfall in the hills might cause the water to rise several feet overnight. The water would soon subside and the island or swamp would slowly rise, but, according to the chief, it was best to be on the safe side.

After the bed had been put in place, a frame of light branches was raised over it and tied in the fashion of a large upside-down wicker basket. This served as the frame of the house, which was then covered with a thatch of papyrus stems.

“And in the night, what if the water rises above the door?”

“We cut a hole in the roof above the bed,” said the chief. “We then climb out, get into our canoes, which we always keep close by, then we go fishing until the water subsides. At which point we can go back to bed.”

He took Roscoe on a tour of the main canal, about 10–12ft wide, with lanes leading off to the houses of his wives and families, each lane accommodating one family and ending in a cul-de-sac. The chief’s home at the top of the lane was marked by an arch close to the landing made of papyrus reed and decorated with fetishes. He told Roscoe that some of the Bakene built houses on small islands that floated about; these were people who were not bothered by the fact that they might wind up each night in a different place—the forerunners, perhaps, of the modern mobile home owners roaming the byways of America.

Other people from his tribe built their houses on the main floating swamp in order to be near the chief. Like him, they preferred to live in an area that rose and fell with the water level, which normally happened so slowly that they were hardly aware. Others preferred to build closer to shore, where the papyrus was rooted and where there was less need to wait for the water level to adjust after a heavy rain. In those areas one simply raised up the hut, added more stems to the floor, and then settled down to continue life in this field of reeds.

“What do you eat?”

“Fish, much fish. And we trade fish for millet from the traders who come by canoe. Each day we have porridge.”

Roscoe noted that some of the families kept goats, which provided milk and, occasionally, roasted meat. The animals had to be taken to graze daily on land, but otherwise the Bakene kept to themselves. This was a life chosen to provide a place apart and secure from hostile tribes; they wanted to keep it that way.

To Roscoe, the Bakene were “simple” because there was nothing unusual about their lives other than the fact that they lived on water. Basically they were “busy” inside their tall papyrus, which provided “. . . perfect shelter for their floating homes . . .” and fish to eat. He also thought the young children “. . . a pretty sight . . . as happy on the water as other children are on land. A child learns to love its watery surroundings, and seems to become amphibious. . . .”

One hundred years later, David Kaiza, a journalist and health-and-environment writer for several East African newspapers, visited the same swamps. Kaiza’s first impression of the people of Lake Kyoga was just the opposite of Roscoe’s rosy picture.

Kaiza saw it as a grim existence. After landing on one of the islands inhabited by people who had lived there for generations, he remarked that “The islands are a strange, paper-thin world. The landing site is a filthy jumble of rotting plants, paper, fish gills and scales. Like Alice in Wonderland, the people lead a topsy-turvy existence. When you disembark, the ground (if layers of plant and mud floating on water can be called ground) sags under your feet. A high wave sends the whole thing rippling. It is as if the whole village were built on a sponge mattress.”1

Today the older tribal regime of the Bakene discovered by Roscoe is gone. In its place Kaiza found about 6,000 people, mostly fishermen, from a number of different ethnic groups who live there for a variety of reasons. Some are there because they escaped from Idi Amin’s tyrannical regime earlier and now have no other place to go; some are said to be smugglers and pirates. No matter what the reason, according to Kaiza they all may soon have to go. The provincial authorities don’t think of the swamp dwellers as very productive citizens; they suspect them of tax evasion and they wouldn’t mind seeing them gone tomorrow. But it’s difficult to evict a moving target. The floating islands drift about, and the lake jurisdiction falls within thirteen districts. A family will go to sleep in one district and wake up in another.

Kaiza asked one of the residents, Mr. Philip Onyango, an 80-year-old senior citizen, about what attracted him here. Taking his time answering, Onyango sighed and said under his breath, “This place is very beautiful.” And, not surprisingly, in Uganda the swamps are still peaceful and relatively safe places. Away from the landings they are not necessarily a floating “slum.” Though, as pointed out below, papyrus swamp dwellers will always have to cope with malaria, which is still common at the swamp margin.

Regardless of the problems of living in a papyrus swamp, Kaiza himself could not help coming under its spell: “. . . there is a kind of beauty to the place . . . there is an almost absolute silence, broken only by the birds chirping and the lapping of the water.”