GENDER
AND ACCUMULATION IN NSO'
Mitzi
Goheen
Introduction
Seated
in smoky kitchens, women of Nso' gather at the end of a long hard day of
farming to share gossip and food. At the centre of their talk are allusions to
their menfolk, often the subject of derision. Men are frequently referred to
as incompetent, unable to care for themselves and too irresponsible to take
care of their children. Women chuckle, or ruefully shake their heads and
declare, 'Men are like children. What good are they? Who feeds the
household? Men are useless somebodies! They only live to drink raffia wine
and converse!' In their words we can hear the echoes of women's
statements to the British anthropologist Phyllis Kaberry over four decades ago:
'Important things are women. Men are little. The things of women are
important. What are the things of men? Men are indeed worthless. Women are
indeed God. Men are nothing. Have you not seen?'
At
the same time, gathered in mimbo parlours and off-licenses, men philosophize
about women. 'Women,' say the men, 'should always listen
only to the man.' They cannot 'reason correctly' because
'their hearts get in the way.' This is given as a rationale for
keeping women at home, on the farm, and out of positions of public
decision-making. Listening to men in Nso' today one is again struck by
the similarity of statements made forty years ago: 'Ruling is for the
man. If you catch trouble, will you send for a man or a woman? A woman has
farm work. You call her the mother of the farm.'
These
conversations provide two very different images of women: on the one hand,
powerful and in control, and on the other, subservient to men. These may
appear as puzzling today as they did to Phyllis Kaberry when, perplexed by
these contradictions, she asked the Fon of Nso' why, if women were held
in such high esteem, if they were like God and were the mothers of the farm,
did they not sit on important political councils? To which the Fon replied,
'Yes, women are like God, and like God they should stay quiet and let men
run the country' (Kaberry 1952).
These
statements are not as contradictory as they first appear. Access to power
through control over symbolic and material resources is different for men and
women both individually and as a group. The field of power in Nso' is
gendered. Relations of power have taken on new configurations and conditions,
boundaries and meaning of categories, including gender and marriage, are
becoming contested in new ways. As long as men did not threaten women's
control over resources considered to be within the female domain, women have
been content to subscribe to the fiction of male dominance.
In
this paper, I will examine strategies of power and accumulation in Nso'.
In doing so I will trace both the development of male hierarchies of political
power and control over female production and reproduction as a facet of male
accumulative strategies. Male hierarchies were (and are) based on control over
women's production and reproduction. I will trace these themes from
pre-colonial Nso' through the colonial period to the present.
Within
the Nso' political economy of prestige, symbolic capital remains a
primary object of accumulation. Women produce material wealth, which men
convert to symbolic capital to gain access to more productive and reproductive
labour and thus to more material wealth. Ultimately both symbolic and material
capital are turned into power of one form or another. Symbolic capital
supported complex strategies by which men gained control over production and
reproduction, and over regional and inter-regional alliances and trade
networks. Titled men had a number of rights and obligations
vis-a-vis
their dependents including the right to control access to land and to demand
labour from both women and men. Customary tenure rules reflected the social
order. While the Fon had titular rights of ownership, actual management of
land was in the hands of a number of lineage heads, the ataanggwën or
'the men who own the fields'. All Nso' people were
guaranteed access to farmland by right of citizenship as long as they abided by
the rules of customary law, meaning the rules of the Fon and the lineage heads.
It
was through control of women's reproductive and productive labour, as
well as alliances set up by affinal arrangements, that men wielded power. The
Fon, for instance, had the right to give away in marriage not only his own
daughters and granddaughters, but also the firstborn among his
great-granddaughters and great-great-granddaughters. Lineage heads controlled,
with few exceptions, the marriage of all female dependents and received the
bulk of the services and gifts which husbands were required to give to their
affines during the course of their marriage. Title holders thus controlled a
variety of practices which confirmed and reproduced their power. They were
trustees of lineage land and properties, the disposers of its women in
marriage, wife-providers for young men, the principal officiants of its
ancestral cult, and members of titled societies in the palace which in turn
confirmed them in office.
The
division of labour in pre-colonial Nso' was strictly gendered, allocating
women's labour to farming and men's to hunting, warfare and trade.
Women's productive labour freed men to participate in trading networks;
their reproductive labour increased the size of the household and thus the
status and the labour force of the male head. Any surplus value women produced
was retained by men. Regional trade was not based substantially on sale of
food, although cereals were traded for palm oil, but consisted mostly of items
controlled by men: kola, small livestock, handicrafts and iron hoes, palm wine,
banana and plantain. Success in regional trade gave men access to the more
lucrative state-controlled long-distance trade.
Women
created a workforce and a surplus. Men invested that surplus in regional
trade. The profits from regional trade were invested in symbolic capital.
This in turn gave entry into more lucrative forms of trade. The profits from
both regional and long-distance trade could be ploughed back into increasing
the household size, and thus both the status of the compound head and the
surplus available to him. Ultimately, in combination, symbolic and material
capital could be transformed into symbolic power, and into supporting the
structures of male hierarchy.
Although
the hierarchy was clearly gendered, women were not without power.
Women's control over the household food supply constantly demonstrated
men's day-to-day dependence on women. Women's political power,
although not as consistently public as that of men, was not insignificant. A
number of women's associations, such as
chong,
gave them a voice in the public domain. Women could and did assemble to
reprove the Fon (Chilver 1989). Women also had important administrative and
political roles in the palace. They ran much of its infrastructure deciding
who was going to cook for and sleep with the Fon - no small task when the Fon
had 300 wives. By making these decisions, they became critical players in
politics. They could effectively decide the list of sons from which the next
Fon would be chosen (Mzeka 1980).
Wives
of the Fon and of important councillors had decision-making powers with regards
to organizing work on the Fon's farm. The
yeefon,
queen mother, was only one of several women in positions of power in the
palace. Women married to the Fon brought honour to their families and could
expect support from them. The Fon's wives were largely responsible for
recruiting girls to the palace as new wives. If the girls were not suited for
marriage to the Fon, the wife who recruited her could marry her to an
nshiylav
- a page either in the palace or in
ngwerong,
the regulatory society. The issue belonged to the Fon's wife who had
recruited the girl. Clearly, women were far more than pawns in a political
game of gift exchange between men. The palace was the centre of political
intrigue and women were major political actors.
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