Women's Songs from West Africa

Thomas A. Hale, Aissata G. Sidikou

• Publisher: Indiana University Press
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9780253010216
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Cultural & Social Anthropology
• Index: Social Sciences

Exploring the origins, organization, subject matter, and performance contexts of singers and singing, Women's Songs from West Africa expands our understanding of the world of women in West Africa and their complex and subtle roles as verbal artists. Covering Côte d'Ivoire, the Gambia, Mali, Niger, Nigeria, Senegal, and beyond, the essays attest to the importance of women's contributions to the most widespread form of verbal art in Africa.

1

Wolof Women Break the Taboo of Sex through Songs

Marame Gueye

One of the most important but often neglected subjects in the preparation of children for adulthood is sex education, a topic that seems to preoccupy parents in a variety of cultures around the world. In many African societies, sex education is more a collective activity than an individual parental duty, and the medium is song. The question is just how this ubiquitous genre can serve to inform youths about such a private topic. The example of Wolof society offers a variety of insights into how the community employs song for teaching about sex and sexuality.

In Wolof culture, sex education occurs during weddings, where one hears a variety of songs. One particular sub-ceremony within Wolof weddings is laabaan, reserved exclusively for women and conducted by them. The purpose is to celebrate the bride's virginity. Laabaan is the term both for the ceremony and for the genre of songs sung at this event.

For the researcher, however, even one who comes from Wolof society, the songs marking the laabaan ceremony are the most difficult not only to understand but also to record. In my case, although I began research on wedding songs in 1996, I did not record a single laabaan song or performance until 1998. My paternal aunts, who are performing guewel, the Wolof term for griots of both sexes, sang laabaan songs, but they refused to let me enter the space where these songs are sung because it is reserved exclusively for married or divorced women. The result was that I had to enlist the help of neenyo¹ who were not family members and who were much younger than my aunts.

Before turning to the lyrics of the songs, it is important to explain the circumstances of the recordings. As an unmarried graduate student conducting research for a doctoral dissertation, I had to rely on someone my own age. Although I had attended several laabaan ceremonies in the past, including one with Adji Diara, I did not record those songs in the field because the public circumstances of the ceremonies were in general not conducive or appropriate to field recording. There was too much noise and movement during the event. Also, while the bride's friends are invited, they are asked to cover their ears because of the sexual nature of the songs. These conditions differ markedly from those in which epics are often recorded. In many cases, the epics are recorded in private venues such as the home of the performer. Although I did manage to record some songs in poor audio conditions at public events for the corpus collected for the women's songs project, I was most interested in those sung by Adji Diara because they were the most poignant. That is why I asked her to sing them again for me in a private context.

The 1998 recording of songs by the neenyo took place at my apartment in Dakar. Both of the singers were, like me, in their twenties. Although they felt at ease in discussions with me about sex, they insisted that the door of the apartment be closed because they did not want other people to attend the performance.

In the case of songs analyzed here, three women—Adji Diara as well as two neenyo from Dakar, Amy Thiam and Khady Thiam—allowed me to make my first recordings. I was introduced to these neenyo by one of my neighbors in Medina, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Dakar.

Once I had recorded songs from them, I was able to interview my mother (Diouf 2003a and 2003b), who gave me other laabaan songs and sayings. But our interaction illustrates the delicate nature of the subject. I should explain that we conducted these conversations on the phone, she in Senegal and I in the United States, thus creating some distance between the two of us. She would not have been comfortable with me in a discussion face-to-face in our home, where we had never had a conversation about sex. She was amazed, in fact, that I was interested in this subject and that I came all the way from the United States to conduct research on it.

During the phone interview, she emphasized to me the importance of virginity for a woman. She told me that nowadays women tend to believe that virginity is not important for the success of their marriage. But she said that men still want their brides to be virgins even though they say otherwise (Diouf 2003b). In her view, despite the Senegalese claim that some practices have been abandoned and that rituals such as the virginity test are now viewed as outmoded activities from the past, men still want virgin brides even if they do not say so openly.

Laabaan songs are traditionally performed by neenyo today, but women from other social groups can also sing them. As mistress of the ceremony, the family griotte is the one who most often leads the laabaan ceremony. However, any other griotte can also attend and make her contribution. They receive presents and money during and at the end of the ceremony. Other women can take part by giving testimonies or contributing to the singing, or by sharing their sexual tips.

Like the other sub-ceremonies of the wedding, laabaan constitutes a space for women's expression. However, I find it the most ambiguous site for the negotiation of power. The songs are sexually charged and speak mainly to the necessity for young women to remain virgins until marriage. Their messages do not seem to contest the sexualization and commodification of the female body. However, if one examines the lyrics more closely, the messages clearly show a break from the stereotypical silencing of African women. Laabaan ceremonies provide a place for Wolof women to transgress both Islamic and traditional modes of speech that advise “good women” not to use “bad” language. Laabaan songs also help listeners understand society's perception of the female body and its gender biases toward sex and sexuality.

VIRGINITY TEST: ALIEN OR INDIGENOUS?

Virginity is a subject that is central to the laabaan ceremony. As in many patriarchal societies, virginity was once a prerequisite for marriage for Wolof women. Although the tradition continues today, it appears that fewer women are virgins when they marry.

A ceremony is organized as part of the many other events that mark the wedding. The purpose is to highlight the abstinence of the bride and to celebrate her purity. It is not clear whether the Wolof conducted a virginity test before the arrival of Islam and European colonization, but some people claim that in any case the practice is alien to the culture. Writing about ancient African cultures, Kandji and Camara note:

Although promiscuity is not condoned, fulfilled sexuality is not a taboo. The only prohibitions that exist pertain to kinship relations (against incest) or to marriage (against adultery). One is free to live in cohabitation, or wait until one has one or several children before getting married. (2000, 42–43)²

Whether this statement is valid for the Wolof or not, it is clear that there is no mention of the practice of a virginity test among the Wolof in the numerous documents written by travel writers and missionaries, European or African, such as the Abbé Boilat and others. However, there are stories about virgins being used for sacrifice or compensation to heroes in many legends and myths. But even these stories do not clarify the difference between a virgin and a woman who has never been married, because the Wolof used the same term, janx, for a virgin and for a young woman who is not married. One is then tempted to say that these sacrifices were based more on maidenhood than on virginity.

It is unclear whether the Wolof adopted virginity checks from European or Arab cultures, as it appears that both practiced them at one time or another. However, most of the activities and beliefs surrounding the Wolof practice of verifying that the bride is a virgin are similar to those occurring in some contemporary Middle Eastern societies. For instance, my mother reported to me that in the past, women who were not virgins at marriage were shot by their male relatives. Writing about a bride who failed to be a virgin in traditional Moroccan society, Combs-Schilling notes:

The groom himself does not kill her, for she is not his blood, not his responsibility, but rather hands the sullied bride over to a man whose blood she shares, her father or her brother, one of whom kills her on that very night. (Combs-Schilling 1989, 208)

This is the case in the very popular Wolof tale of Khandiou and Ndaté. On her wedding day, Khandiou, who was not a virgin, faced the possibility of being shot by her father. She confided in her best friend Ndaté, who, at night, took her place in the marital bed and saved her from death and disgrace. Because she sacrificed her honor in the name of friendship, Ndaté was given a new hymen by a spirit. While this story is more about friendship than virginity, it echoes the practice of honor killing still practiced in some Arab societies.

Another similarity with the view in many parts of the Islamic world is that female sexuality appears as very powerful, and the perception is that men's vulnerability to it can corrupt society. To protect men and society as a whole from sin and promiscuity, the female body needs to be controlled. This explains the veiling of women in many Muslim societies (Mernissi 1987, 3). Needless to say, by converting to Islam the Wolof adopted many practices of the religion and its adherents. Although the Wolof do not require women to be veiled, women are advised to cover their bodies in order not to tempt men. This ideology provides support for the tradition of genital cutting or surgery, and the sewing up of women's genitals, a practice carried out today in some Arab societies. The concept of protecting men and blaming the female for non-marital sex is a predominant pattern in contemporary Wolof culture.

Another Islamic influence lies in the word laabaan, which signifies “purifying” or “cleansing.” In Islamic tradition, one is supposed to have a purifying bath after the sexual act, but it is not clear whether that view explains the practice. It may also be that the hymen is a symbol of innocence and that the bride is washed in order to celebrate her entrance into adulthood. Certain Wolof also refer to the ceremony as “laundry.” The bride “cleans” the sheets she and her husband slept in the night before. She does not physically wash them because her mother is supposed to keep them as proof of her daughter's chastity. The symbolic cleaning is a ceremony where the groom gives a present to express his satisfaction. The bride organizes a party with her friends during which they wash some other clothes. The “cleaning” marks the bride's second step into adulthood, the first being when she menstruated for the first time. That monthly experience is also called “laundry.”

I should stress that many practices associated with Islam are aspects of Arabic culture that predated the religion. In fact, in one of our interviews, my mother explained that Islam is against the publicity surrounding the virginity of the bride. In the past, the sheets were exhibited for everyone to see. Even though Islam expects both men and women to be virgins at marriage, as sex is only allowed within matrimony, the virginity test is mentioned neither in the Qur

ān nor in the Hadīth.³

Whether the laabaan ceremony is alien or not, it has been practiced for generations. Although it is vanishing today, its existence underscores the importance given to sexuality in Wolof culture.

THE LAABAN CEREMONY AND THE FIGHT FOR ITS SURVIVAL

The following verses are accompanied by seven drumbeats played early in the morning to let people know that a bride is a virgin:

Mbaar

The hyena

Whoever does not know Mbaar

Has heard

Its howl

Mbaar

The hyena.

The drummers accompany these verses to announce the good news to the neighborhood and prepare for the laabaan. In many cases, the drummers already know that the bride was “given” to her husband the night before. Hence, they are ready the next morning. Wherever women are, they rush to finish their chores and head to the bride's house. Most arrive with praises and congratulations to the mother.

Laabaan is a ceremony organized by women for women. It provides the bride, her friends, and any other sexually active woman who is present with very important sexual education grounded in the culture. It can take place at the bride's parents’ home or at the bride's new home the morning after she joins her husband, depending on where they sleep together for the first time. Most often, it happens at the bride's home. Because they cannot accompany their married daughter to her new home, most mothers want to be present when she goes through her first sexual experience. In many cases, the family of the bride is informed that the groom wants to “take his wife.”⁴ The “taking” is often permitted only whe...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication Page
• Contents
• Introduction: New Perspectives on Women's Songs and Singing in West Africa
• 1 - Wolof Women Break the Taboo of Sex through Songs
• 2 - Jola Kanyalen Songs from the Casamance, Senegal: From “Tradition” to Globalization
• 3 - Azna Deities in the Songs of Taguimba Bouzou: A Window on the Visible and Invisible
• 4 - Initiation and Funeral Songs from the Guro of Côte d'Ivoire
• 5 - Praise Performances by Jalimusolu in the Gambia
• 6 - Saharan Music: About a Feminine Modernity
• 7 - Songs by Wolof Women
• 8 - A Heroic Performance by Siramori Diabaté in Mali
• 9 - Women's Tattooing Songs from Kajoor, Senegal
• 10 - Drummed Poems by Songhay-Zarma Women of Niger
• 11 - Space, Language, and Identity in the Palm Tree
• 12 - Bambara Women's Songs in Southern Mali
• 13 - Patriarchy in Songs and Poetry by Zarma Women
• 14 - Muslim Hausa Women's Songs
• 15 - Lamentation and Politics in a Sahelian Song
• 16 - Transformations in Tuareg Tende Singing: Women's Voices and Local Feminisms
• 17 - Income Strategies of a Jelimuso in Mali and France
• Index
• Contributors