ZANZIBAR'S VIRAL UNDERGROUND

by Martin Walsh

The walkway between caves at Mchekeni, Zanzibar (photo: Martin Walsh)

I worry about caves. I’ve been worrying about them ever since reading about the role played by Kitum Cave in the known history of Marburg virus disease. In the 1980s, two separate visitors to this “elephant cave” in Mount Elgon National Park were infected and subsequently died. Egyptian fruit bats (Rousettus aegyptiacus) have since been identified as a reservoir host for marburgviruses, and it may well be that the inhalation of microbes from bat guano was the means by which these unfortunate tourists contracted the deadly disease.

I’m also fascinated by caves: they’re contagious in more ways than one. The islands of the Zanzibar archipelago, with their extensive limestone reef terraces, are riddled with caves and sinkholes. They’re a distinctive feature of the coral rag or karst landscape of both Unguja and Pemba, though often hidden from sight by thick vegetation, especially along the forested scarps in the south and east of the main island. Many of the caves have cultural significance as mizimu, the abodes of spirits that are regularly propitiated by the local guardians who have inherited this responsibility.

Entering one of the caves at Ufufuma (photo: Martin Walsh)

I wasn’t really aware of either the abundance of caves or the extent of this practice until Helle Goldman and I began researching knowledge and beliefs about the Zanzibar leopard (Panthera pardus adersi) in 1996. There’s a strong association between leopards and caves, because of the spiritual significance of both and the fact that leopards were believed to be often found in and around them. In some cases, leopards themselves are the spirits that subterranean offerings are made to. 

More recently, Maximilian Chami and others have begun documenting these and other sacred sites, though we’re far from possessing anything like an inventory or gazetteer. Following his father Felix Chami’s pioneering excavations, caves have also been providing us with remarkable insights into Zanzibar’s past, including the people and fauna of Unguja before it became an island. I’ve been a minor contributor to discussions about some of the emerging zooarchaeological evidence – and I look forward to more.

Unsurprisingly, some of the limestone caves on the eastern side of Unguja are now tourist venues. The impressive Mchekeni Caves, in the Kiwengwa-Pongwe Forest Reserve, have been open since 2006, though visitor numbers can be very low. Other caves have been developed privately. Kuza Cave in north Jambiani is more like a rock shelter or overhang (presumably exposed by an earlier collapse), with a beautiful turquoise pool that tourists are encouraged to swim in. The caves at Ufufuma, roughly halfway between Mchekeni and Kuza, are used by a traditional healer (mganga), who also entertains fee-paying tourists.   

Bats in the south cave at Mchekeni (photo: Martin Walsh)

Whenever I’ve visited Mchekeni, I’ve felt distinctly uneasy penetrating deep into the southern cave. This is not because there’s no path and it’s unlit, it’s because I’m thinking about bats. There are plenty of small bats clinging to the walls, harmless enough. But I can’t help but wonder about the viruses they might be carrying. Spillover events may be rare, but as the ongoing global pandemic has painfully reminded us, they can happen, and bats are, for better or worse, the reservoir hosts of numerous viruses, SARS-CoV-2 included.

Perhaps I should be more worried about the fruit bats hanging in the trees, and the fruit that they may have slobbered or defecated on. Or fretting about Pemba, where flying foxes (Pteropus voeltzkowi) and other bats have traditionally been hunted as bushmeat. Who knows what harms this may have caused in the longue durée of island history? Of course, Zanzibar has more pressing public health problems to deal with in the present. Sooner or later, though, Zanzibar and Tanzania will have to start thinking about the biosecurity of the growing number of caves on the tourist trail. Next time I go down there, I’m wearing a mask.

Further reading

Bardenwerper, Julie 2009. Spirits and Sacred Sites: A Study of Beliefs on Unguja Island. SIT Study Abroad, Independent Study Project (ISP) Collection. Paper 759.

Chami, Maximilian F. 2019. “Sacred Limestone Caves”: Management and the Use of Sacred Heritage Places in Limestone Cave Areas along the Swahili Coast of Indian Ocean in Tanzania. Unpublished PhD dissertation, Brandenburg University of Technology Cottbus–Senftenberg.

Chami, Maximilian F. & Felix A. Chami 2020. Management of sacred heritage places in Tanzania: a case of Kuumbi limestone cave, Zanzibar island. Journal of Heritage Management 5 (1): 71-88.

From the Kuza Cave website, www.kuzacave.com

Faulkner, Patrick et al. 2019. Long-term trends in terrestrial and marine invertebrate exploitation on the eastern African coast: insights from Kuumbi Cave, Zanzibar. The Journal of Island and Coastal Archaeology 14: 479–514.

Goldman, Helle & Martin Walsh 2019. Classifying, domesticating and extirpating the Zanzibar leopard, a transgressive felid. Norsk Antropologisk Tidsskrift 30 (3-4): 205-219.

Prendergast, Mary E. et al. 2016. Continental island formation and the archaeology of defaunation on Zanzibar, eastern Africa. PLoS One 11 (2): e0149565.

Quammen, David 2012. Spillover: Animal Infections and the Next Human Pandemic. London: Vintage Books.

Walsh, Martin 1995. Eating bats on Pemba island: a local innovation or cultural borrowing? Mvita: Newsletter of the Regional Centre for the Study of Archaeology in Eastern and Southern Africa 6: 15-18.

Walsh, Martin 2011. From green monkey disease to fruit bat viruses. East African Notes and Records, 26 December 2011.

Walsh, Martin & Helle Goldman 2007. Killing the king: the demonization and extermination of the Zanzibar leopard. In E. Dounias, E. Motte-Florac & M. Dunham (eds.) Le symbolisme des animaux: L'animal, clef de voûte de la relation entre l'homme et la nature? Paris: Éditions de l’IRD. 1133-1182.

JOZANI-CHWAKA BAY NATIONAL PARK AND COVID-19

by Jonathan Walz

Evidence of beach erosion due to climate change at Paje (photo: J. Walz)

In Zanzibar, 2020 was a unique and impactful year. Covid-19 raised challenges for the state and its communities and environments. Compounded climate change and the national elections in October added stresses. The spring high tide event in mid-October (4.68m tidal change amplified by sea level rise) demonstrated that incremental increases to sea level during the last two decades have real world effects, including breached beach crests, saline wells, and inundated agricultural fields. Dramatically reduced tourism on Unguja and tourist revenue, alongside the aforementioned stresses, influenced biodiversity and the management of protected areas.

National parks around the world face multiple challenges during the global pandemic. For instance, significantly reduced staffing due to a decline in income from tourism influences parks’ capacities and plans to effectively enforce protections, facilitate scientific research, and ensure upkeep. In addition, and as a core threat to global biodiversity, administrators and observers of protected areas cite a parallel uptick in illicit activities that continue to degrade environments, species, and the human-environment interface: land grabs, deforestation for firewood and charcoal-making, animal poaching, an intensification of the illicit trade in wildlife and wildlife products, and the illegal mining of rare minerals and construction materials.

Burned bee honeycomb at Jozani (photo: J. Walz

“Biodiversity” is high species richness and evenness, which is equated with ecosystem health, productivity, stability, and resistance to disturbances, including disease. In general, biodiversity hotspots in Zanzibar – terrestrial and marine – are understudied (scholarly investigations in the archipelago being skewed to social and historical topics). Thus, biodiversity in the archipelago faces threats even before its is thoroughly understood. The sickness, death, and social disruption of the pandemic continue to act on the economically impoverished society and on the uncertainties spurred by climate change. Impacts from climate change are apparent: temperature increase (1.2 degrees Celsius since 1997), reduced rainfall with uncertain distribution, consistent sea level rise (0.28 cm/per year since 2009), and coastline and reef degradation. During the pandemic, pressures on the urban economy and food security in Zanzibar City have increased human and environmental vulnerability and changed behavior.

Up to January 2021, although human mortality and Covid-19 infections seemingly have been lower across eastern Africa than in areas of the Americas, Europe, and South Asia, nevertheless there have been negative outcomes in the region, for instance increased food insecurity and growing strains on health systems and natural resources. However, generalized statements about the pandemic’s impacts to nature conservation in Africa and the Global South more broadly deserve scrutiny and critique. What negative impacts to protected areas are being underemphasized in reports and what conservation positives have arisen during the pandemic?

Red colobus monkeys at Jozani (photo: J. Walz)

The Zanzibar archipelago, a semi-autonomous region of Tanzania, has a single national park which serves as a useful case for analysis: Jozani-Chwaka Bay National Park and Biosphere Reserve. Jozani (for short) is an accessible park which in the last two years (2018 and 2019) has received more than 60,000 visitors per year. In April 2020 (during the first global peak in Covid-19), there were 14 total visitors to the park: less than 0.5% the number of visitors in April 2019. Diminished tourism revenue resulted in a temporary 50% reduction in park staff which influenced monitoring and enforcement, park upkeep, and public engagement. Urban job loss and modest food insecurity on Unguja redistributed some residents from nearby Zanzibar City to the countryside near the national park. Schools were closed which left children at home throughout the day to help gather natural resources for these larger households at the park’s edges. In addition, poachers used the ocean – not just land – to access remote areas, a practice previously documented primarily on Unguja’s sister island to the north: Pemba. Ad hoc observations and interviews with rangers documented that illicit activity increased, the evidence of which included tree stumps, cuttings from medicinal plants, shotgun shells, burned bee honeycombs, and traces of sand mining along the bay front.

However, positives for conservation and biodiversity have been lost in caricatures of the impacts of Covid-19. Absent tourists, monkey troops (especially Red colobus monkeys) at the national park reverted to less habituated behaviour. Farmers at the edges of the protected area reported fewer cases of damage to crops from park wildlife. Domesticated and feral animals were more visible, making them easier to humanely capture and relocate outside of park boundaries. In Chwaka Bay, intertidal species like octopus, a popular food served at tourist hotels, rebounded. On June 29, schools reopened; school groups became the primary park visitors and the focus of environmental education programs rather than secondary to the attention of overseas tourists. With few foreign-led NGOs in operation during the pandemic, a few of Zanzibar’s citizens stepped-in as agents of conservation at the park but also in Zanzibar City. They tended to public green spaces, outdoor areas less prone to transmit Covid-19.

Octopus and fisherman at Chwaka Bay (photo: J. Walz)

Biodiversity loss and socio-ecological instability increase vulnerability to on-going and future disasters. To overcome the disabling effects of Covid-19 and the compounding threats of climate change and other influential factors better promotion of evidence-based interdisciplinary study of coupled natural and human systems should be a priority. The multiple invested stakeholders should enforce protections to areas and species through standing or new policies, enhance resources for in-country experts to conduct and communicate research, bolster the health and wealth-being of people and environments through community “green” strategies, and collaborate with mindfulness to improve human livelihoods. The protection and restoration of biodiversity will improve adaptability to threats.

The public should be wary of simple narratives about Covid-19 and its impacts in Zanzibar and elsewhere. Covid-19 has not put threats to biodiversity “on hold”. However, at the same time, Covid-19’s outcomes have not been wholly negative.  As noted, during the pause in tourism, citizens of Zanzibar have initiated and developed conservation practices outside the orbit of ex-patriots, many of whom returned to their home countries due to the pandemic. At national parks in Africa and Indian Ocean island states, Covid-19 produces mixed conservation outcomes. Evidence builds more balanced and meaningful narratives that recognize the vulnerability and adaptability of people, ecosystems, and parks in an era of change.

A FALLEN TREE IN STONE TOWN

by Jonathan Walz 

Forodhani Gardens, Zanzibar (photo: Martin Walsh)

I

On July 9, 2020, a large tree fell in the Vuga area of Stone Town, Zanzibar.* Its collapse was sudden and loud. People quickly gathered. The tree’s meaning to different people emerged in the subsequent three days as the tree was discussed, disassembled, hauled-off, reflected-on, and mourned. Clarity about the tree’s meaning and social role emerged from its death.

II

Unique trees are essential to societies in eastern Africa and throughout the world. From mainland Africa to Seychelles, the baobab, coco de mer, fig, and mango play roles in story-telling and ritual practice, not to mention their contributions to sustenance and medicine. Common English names for other trees with distinct uses and cultural significance – all found in contemporary Zanzibar – include, but are not limited to, the bodhi, breadfruit, camphor, cassia, cinnamon, clove, coconut, date, ebony, euphorbia (succulent), false ashoka, ficus, frangipani, Indian almond, kapok, mahogany, mangrove, neem, peepal, saman, tamarind, and teak.

Trees serve a multitude of purposes. Particular species provide shade or windbreaks. Trees can be ornamental. Large or old trees serve as shrines, house ancestors, or, for some societies, they can represent the center of the symbolic universe (i.e. an axis mundi). Trees can obscure visibility and sound, facilitating secrecy. The wood of some species can be used to make objects: posts, flooring, utensils, beehives, weapons, watercraft, musical instruments, and carvings. Many trees produce edible fruits, seeds, roots, leaves, saps, or gums or are consumed as timber for construction projects or for firewood, charcoal, or animal fodder. Extracts from trees can be employed as latexes, oils, dyes, hunting poisons, or incense. The cosmetic cabinets of Swahili women contain an assortment of tree products revered for their affordances.

Trees in Stone Town (photo: Jonathan Walz)

Large trees are visible and prominent, with high crowns that mark places of importance on the countryside or in cities. In Stone Town, multi-story architecture often obstructs viewsheds. There are no natural features other than trees to distinguish places from a distance, especially when viewed from the perspective of a pedestrian in the alleyways. In parts of Tanzania, forests serve as sacred groves or identify ancient settlements (see the scholarship of Elgidius Ichumbaki (2015), who suggests reconsidering the meaning of “archaeological site” using trees). Trees have meanings that stretch beyond their immediate times and locations; they can live on in place names, for example throughout Zanzibar (Myers 2016). 

III

The tree that fell in Vuga had a social life. It was planted by Khamis Salum in 2000. The Ficus benjamina - Weeping or Java Fig - has an origin in India, Malaysia, and Indonesia. This species is a large evergreen tree, 10-20 meters in height with drooping foliage. Hardy and fast-growing, it has a strong root system and bears orange to red berries (Dharani 2002).

The Weeping Fig functioned as a shade tree for nearby offices. Taxi drivers wedged everyday items in the openings in its trunk and among its lower branches. It was an attractive destination for urban animals, including a pair of Broad-billed Rollers, a colony of Yellow-headed Dwarf Geckos, and a Great Plated Lizard that lived in a stone wall at the base of its trunk. When it fruited, the tree attracted Greater Galagos and two species of fruit bat.

All of this ended when the tree fell. When it collapsed across a dirt road it landed without injury to people or property. Community members in the area gathered, taking photos in awe.

(photo: Jonathan Walz)

IV

After the tree’s collapse, three entities were contacted because each has purview over the trees of Stone Town, a World Heritage Site: the Stone Town Conservation and Development Authority, Urban Municipal Council, and Department of Forests and Non-Renewable Natural Resources. Discussions with the authorities documented the details of the tree and offered guidelines for the removal of its remains. Photographs were taken by authorities and its species confirmed. Then, clearance began. A representative from the Urban Municipal Council arrived on-site to observe a hired worker with a permitted chainsaw disassemble the tree. At 12 meters in height and almost a meter thick at breast height, the removal process of the tree spanned two days. This species produces soft wood useful as firewood (not charcoal), so its trunk and branches were carried away by community members. 

V

During subsequent days, two individuals independently visited the site of the tree fall and performed rites. The individuals were older men who discretely left items at its stump and spoke inaudible words. They stayed in the vicinity briefly. The Weeping Fig was a shrine to a spirit. The two visitors each left an offering (sadaka), including a small white cloth. This interpretation also explains the appearance of eggs and vials of rosewater at the base of the tree in previous years. The rite maintains harmony for an individual or community by preventing evil or pollution as a result of the demise of the mzimu, the Swahili name for a spirit dwelling.

Trees have specific meanings and uses to different stakeholders. This event should inspire conversations about the roles of trees, their socio-nature, urban environmental histories, and the symbolic and spiritual character of cities (Myers 2016: 83). Trees are physical and metaphysical anchors. Western perspectives on trees delimit and can erase other cultural meanings and uses of trees. While the built environment of Stone Town may be “of elsewhere” (Meier 2016), trees and green spaces in Zanzibar still yield deep significances that draw heavily from the African and Indian Ocean cultural intersections in Zanzibar. For instance, the words jini and shetani have Arabic roots, but pepo and mzimu have Bantu roots. These terminologies are variously used to indicate spirits or spirit dwellings among the Swahili. The cultural significance of these terms and the context of use are obscured when trees or green spaces and districts on the island are framed simply as areas of public enjoyment (or “parks”), which embraces a Western concept of nature and green spaces for urban Africa.

(photo: Jonathan Walz)

VI

The words, performances, and objects associated with special trees are essential for comprehension of their significance as heritage. The material approach to the fallen Weeping fig and its consumption (as firewood, and so forth) is understandable in a comparatively impoverished setting that has been culturally degraded by tourism. Yet, the performance of rites shows that even under these less than ideal circumstances, or, better yet, because of the circumstances, meaning persists. Using a case from Transkei, Throop (2003) articulates that from on-the-ground treatments of trees there is the potential to distil the surrounding power relations. In Zanzibar, this postulate applies to trees as central places of social practice that respond to colonial experience, the intersection of town-and countryside, and environmental change. Contradictions exist in the “heritagization” of Stone Town (Sheriff 2019). One everyday tension is the disproportionate emphasis placed by conservators on architecture (already questioned for its “authenticity”) as compared against, for example, intangible practices that surround trees that endure at prominent points or in place names in Stone Town.

*Note that the tree that is the subject of this post is not shown for ethical reasons. All of the images included here are of other trees in Zanzibar.

References

Dharani, N. 2002. Field Guide to the Common Trees and Shrubs of East Africa. Cape Town: Struik Publishers.

Ichumbaki, E. 2015. Monumental Ruins, Baobab Trees and Spirituality: Perceptions on Values and Uses of Built Heritage along the East African Coast. Unpublished PhD Dissertation, University of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

Meier, P. 2016. Swahili Port Cities: The Architecture of Elsewhere. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Myers, G. 2016. Urban Environments in Africa: A Critical Analysis of Environmental Politics. Chicago: Policy Press.

Rival, L (ed.) 1998. The Social Life of Trees: Anthropological Perspectives on Tree Symbolism. London: Routledge.

Sheriff, A. 2019. Contradictions in the heritagization of Zanzibar ‘Stone Town’. In B. Schnepel and T. Sen (eds.) Travelling Pasts: The Politics of Cultural Heritage in the Indian Ocean World. Leiden: Brill. 221-245.

Throop, J. 2003. The python and the crying tree: interpreting tales of environmental and colonial power in Transkei. International Journal of African Historical Studies 36 (3): 511-532.

A RECIPE FOR DISPELLING NIGHTMARES

by Martin Walsh

Mhamadi Khamis Makame

My last post, ‘Burning the Golden weaver’s nest’, was about an unusual ingredient in the treatment of possession-related  illness in Makunduchi, in the south-east of Unguja island. Fumigation and steaming are common components in traditional medical practice in Zanzibar. They are also essential in the invocation of possessory spirits, as Hassan Gora Haji describes in his recent PhD dissertation on the songs that accompany spirit possession rituals on Tumbatu island and elsewhere in northern Unguja.

Here is part of his description of kupigwa nyungu, ‘to be given a vapour-bath’:

“Nyungu [literally ‘clay pot’] is a mixture of medicinal plants which are boiled together and used to fumigate oneself […]. But according to waganga, traditional doctors, nyungu is a kind of medicine for steaming which is made with a mix of the leaves of seven different plants. These plants vary from mganga to mganga or from one kind of spirit possession treatment to another. […] The nyungu medicine is used to attract the spirit so that it comes as soon as it is called.” (Haji 2018: 54; my translation).

Crouching under a mat

On 18 October 2007, when working on the Gray Brothers’ documentary The Nightmare (Para Docs Productions, 2008), I took the crew to film a series of interviews about a recent Popobawa panic in Potoa. Afterwards, one of my in-laws demonstrated the use of nyungu medicine for the camera. His patient was a young boy who had been sent to him for treatment, and had been staying there for some time. As both of them crouched under a mat, Mzee Mhamadi held a bunch of steaming leaves under the boy’s nose and encouraged him to inhale the vapour.
 

After this demonstration, Mzee Mhamadi listed the seven plants that he would have used if he had been doing this for real. He described this as a nyungu mix for treating treating jinamizi, which is loosely translated as ‘nightmare’, but often refers to more specific phenomena, such as the frightening hallucinations that can accompany sleep paralysis and manifest as incubi or succubi.

Inhaling the vapour

Here are the seven ingredients, listed in the order in which he gave them and identified with the help of available botanical glossaries of Swahili plant names in Zanzibar:

1. muwakikali, Horsewood, Clausena anisata (Willd.) Hook.f. ex Benth. (family Rutaceae).
2. mnanuzi, Orange Climber, Toddalia asiatica (L.) Lam. (family Rutaceae).
3. mchakuzi, Uvaria acuminata Oliv. (family Annonaceae).
4. mbaazi, Pigeon Pea, Cajanus cajan (L.) Millsp. (family Leguminosae).
5. kivumbazi, Ocimum spp. including Basil, Ocimum basilicum L. (family Lamiaceae).
6. mpera, Guava, Psidium guajava L. (family Myrtaceae).
7. mchakati, Mallotus oppositifolius (Geiseler) Müll.Arg. (family Euphorbiaceae).

The last of these botanical identifications is the least certain: Heine and Legère (1995: 107) also record mchakati as Leucas sp. (family Lamiaceae) and Acalypha ornata Hochst. ex A.Rich. (family Euphorbiaceae).

The nyungu medicine

Most of these plants, including the cultigens, are used in a variety of medicinal and ritual preparations in Zanzibar, and some are well known as traditional medicines more widely. According to Heine and Legère, waganga consider Horsewood to be “one of their most useful plants” (1995: 244), while they and other authors give different examples of its use.

Ingrams describes the use of Orange Climber roots in a “Hadimu” (south and east Unguja) ritual for “Calling a devil for possession” that is somewhat different from the northern Unguja (Tumbatu) practices already described:

“Take a piece of mnanuzi root, and three of muiza jini [mwizajini, Coffee senna, Senna occidentalis] […] and boil together in a new pot. When it boils, place a pad on the patient’s head (to stop burning) and place the pot on top of it. The patient will then shake her head, but the pot will not fall down. The medicine man then gives the patient some of the mixture to drink. The devil will now come, and though he may go away for short periods, will always come back. After this the medicine man will drop the muiza jini down a ruined well, so that it is out of the way of mischief-makers, and the other root will be fastened to the leg of the possessed person, where it will stay for seven days.” (1931: 453)

Listing the ingredients

Elsewhere Ingrams discusses the magical significance of the numbers 3, 4, and 7 in Zanzibar, and parallels further afield (1931: 478).

As Hassan Gora Haji makes clear in his dissertation, the herbal steam bath is only one part of a spirit possession or healing ritual, which may also involve specific incantations. Ingrams also records a sample of these. I didn’t get another opportunity to ask Mzee Mhamadi more about this, and alas he is no longer with us, though I’m told that at least some of his medicinal knowledge has been passed on.

Acknowledgements
In memory of Mhamadi Khamis Makame, and with thanks to Adam Gray for sending me unused footage from the filming of The Nightmare. All of the images in this post are taken from that footage.

References

Haji, Hassan Gora 2018. Uchambuzi wa Nyimbo za Uganga wa Pepo Zanzibar: Mtindo na Dhima Zake. Unpublished PhD dissertation, Chui Kikuu cha Taifa cha Zanzibar (SUZA).

During filming

Heine, Bernd and Karsten Legère 1995. Swahili Plants: An Ethnobotanical Survey. Köln: Rüdiger Köppe Verlag.

Ingrams, W.H. 1931. Zanzibar: Its History and People. London: H.F. & G. Witherby.

Kombo, Yussuf H. 2017. Jozani Natural Forest: Zanzibar Treasures in Wild (2nd edition). Zanzibar.

Legère, Karsten 2003. Plant names from north Zanzibar. Africa & Asia (Göteborg) 3: 123-146.

Williams, R.O. 1949. The Useful and Ornamental Plants in Zanzibar and Pemba. Zanzibar: Zanzibar: Protectorate.