HISTORY

Ba­juni his­tory # 1


For at least five cen­turies the Ba­juni thrived, liv­ing a fairly peace­ful sub­sis­tence ex­is­tence, fish­ing, trad­ing, and farm­ing, in a string of cross-bor­der set­tle­ments, from Kismayuu in south­ern So­ma­lia down to the north­ern tip of Pate Is­land in Kenya, a dis­tance of some 250 km. They did not live lux­u­ri­ously, but they lived well enough and formed a co­her­ent and sta­ble com­mu­nity. Men trav­elled widely, as traders north up to Kismayuu, Muqdisho and south­ern Ara­bia, across the In­dian Ocean to the east, and south to Lamu, Ma­lindi, Mom­basa, Tan­za­nia, Zanz­ibar, the Co­moro Is­lands, and Mada­gas­car.

Some Ba­ju­nis were fa­mous as sea cap­tains the length of the East African coast. Fish­er­men spent sev­eral weeks each year in tem­po­rary fish­ing camps on other is­lands4. Women also trav­elled but less far, to nearby is­lands and towns to buy sup­plies, maybe oc­ca­sion­ally to Muqdisho or Mom­basa. Men took care of busi­ness, of mak­ing boats, mak­ing and mend­ing nets, catch­ing and sell­ing fish. Women took care of the home, of cook­ing, of some agri­cul­ture and made some money by weav­ing bas­kets and col­lect­ing cowries for sale.

Chil­dren took care of goats and boys went out on fish­ing boats. Both sexes knew songs, sto­ries, and po­etry: some songs were the province of women, oth­ers of men. They would know the names of clans. So­ma­lis, Ba­ju­nis, and other East African eth­nic­i­ties di­vide the ‘tribe’ (Ba­juni and Swahili ka­bila, Ba­juni uchan­dru) into smaller group­ings known as clans (Ba­juni khamasi, Swahili and Ba­juni ukoo). Ba­juni clan names (see sec­tion 5) come from an­ces­tors or places and clan af­fil­i­a­tion used to play a role in al­le­giance, mar­riage, and in­her­i­tance. Ba­ju­nis were few, their main­land neigh­bours (re­cently So­mali, for­merly Oromo) were many, they were fairly de­fence­less, and their main­land neigh­bours were armed and ag­gres­sive.

The bal­ance be­tween them and the neigh­bours was frag­ile but sta­ble. The main set­tle­ments were on the is­lands, with agri­cul­tural ar­eas on the main­land op­po­site. When times got bad, Ba­juni liv­ing or work­ing on the main­land with­drew to the (Ba­juni) is­lands. There is lit­tle sug­ges­tion that their pas­toral neigh­bours showed much in­cli­na­tion to cross over to the is­lands, prob­a­bly be­cause they were not too in­ter­ested in what was on of­fer – a lot of fish, lim­ited ed­i­ble flora, and few do­mes­tic an­i­mals. This sit­u­a­tion con­tin­ued af­ter in­de­pen­dence (1960 in So­ma­lia, 1963 in Kenya). It started to change in So­ma­lia in 1974, when the gov­ern­ment started to move Ba­ju­nis off the is­lands, and it changed rad­i­cally in 1991, with the fall of Siad Barre, the Pres­i­dent of So­ma­lia. In what fol­lows, this pe­riod and the events from 1991 on are re­ferred to as The Trou­bles.

The his­tor­i­cal bal­ance broke, eth­nic So­ma­lis rolled across the main­land set­tle­ments and flooded onto the is­lands. Eth­nic So­ma­lis (Hawiye, Darod/​Mare­han) de­cided to evict Ba­ju­nis from the is­lands where they had lived for cen­turies, telling them they had no right to be there (al­though they had been there longer than the in­trud­ers). Refugees tell hor­rific anec­dotes of eth­nic cleans­ing, in­volv­ing chaos, theft, vi­o­lence, rape, and mur­der of moth­ers and daugh­ters beaten and raped: of fa­thers and sons be­ing beaten, stabbed, shot, hav­ing their heads held un­der wa­ter till they drowned, be­ing forcibly taken to Kismayuu and never re­turn­ing: of whole com­mu­ni­ties be­ing moved to forced labour camps in Kismayuu: of fish­er­men go­ing on a fish­ing trip for sev­eral days and re­turn­ing to find their vil­lage empty, de­void of peo­ple and fam­i­lies.

In all like­li­hood, the Ba­ju­nis and their cul­ture will be gone from So­ma­lia in the near fu­ture. At the time of writ­ing, no one can be sure how many Ba­juni re­main in So­ma­lia but an in­formed guessti­mate would be at most a few hun­dred. There has also been or­tho­graphic cleans­ing. Since Ba­ju­nis were il­lit­er­ate, their place names and their lan­guage were ren­dered by oth­ers, in the or­tho­graphic con­ven­tions of the oth­ers.

In south­ern So­ma­lia, Ital­ian con­ven­tions were used, and re­pro­duced by non-Ital­ians who came later: so the Ba­juni vil­lage Ki­amboni7 just north of the bor­der with Kenya was spelt as Chi­amboni/​Chi­ambone. More re­cently, So­mali na­tion­al­ism has So­ma­l­ized names, so Kaam­booni, which has no mean­ing in So­mali, and this pol­icy of re­plac­ing Ba­juni ver­sions by those of oth­ers is fol­lowed by bod­ies such as the Na­tional Ge­o­graphic and the British Ad­mi­ralty. In Kenya, Ba­juni names have long been re­placed by Swahili ones, of­ten mis­spelled, since they were orig­i­nally recorded by writ­ers who had never been to the places con­cerned, or were not lin­guists. In view of this, it seems an ap­pro­pri­ate time to record what is known of the Ba­ju­nis, their lan­guage, and cul­ture, be­fore they and it are gone. This data­base as­sem­bles in one place ma­te­r­ial that hith­erto has only been avail­able in quite dis­parate places and de­spite the elec­tronic world is of­ten not easy to lo­cate

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