JuJu's

Earlier this week, the fon of Kom died. Kom is the community the Mbingo is in and an fon is kind of like the tribal cheif. Emmanuel thought it would be a good experience for me to go the the traditional African ceremony of the fon so I could see some juju's. I've asked many Cameroonians and missionaries on what juju's exactly are. Everybody's description is different. For staters, juju's are supposed to be covered from head to knees so that no one knows who they are. In the 'old' days, they were thought of as spirits and could not talk when they were in costume. Juju's only appear at festive events and non-Christian funerals. Christians are not juju's as extreme juju's practice black majic. Some think there's nothing wrong to enjoy seeing juju dances and others believe that you should not be going if you are a Crhistian. I decided that since Emmanuel is a pastor and since the other missionaries have seen juju's, that it would be ok to experience it.
The instruments they used for the music was different from the church and chapel drums. In the picture above, you can see two banana tree trunks with wood boards accross it, this is the African xylophone which was really interesting to hear. There were different types of juju dances and some of them would go around and poke at you with their sticks or jab their knife in the ground in front of you until you give them money (if you know me well, you know that I HATE people poking at me, so this did not go over well). Most juju's had palm nuts attached to their ankles so that when they stomped and jumped, their feet made music. Emmanuel's son took my camera and bribed the juju's with money so he could take their pictures.
The scariest part was when a 'bad' juju from the Cameroonian palace came. These are the juju's who blatantly practice black majic and voodoo. If you did not bow to them, they had every right to beat you. One of my PT coworkers told me that when her husband died, juju's came to her house during the night and would not leave til she gave them money. She told me that she had to throw it over the door because if she came out of the house and got too close to one "it would give me a baby". To which I asked, "you mean, rape you?" to which she replied "yes". The bad juju's cannot go in the women's hut. Thankfully I was standing right outside this and the older women pulled me into the hut. I sat it this little dark hut with all of these women cooking fufu and bitter leaf over a coal fire for the men who were related to the deceased fon. The women wanted me to eat the food. At first my Western way of thinking wanted to decline. I didn't want to be imposing and eating the fufu intended only for the men of the family. But I knew that I may offend if I didn't. They were so delighted that I ate their food! I told them 'thank you' in their native tongue and they were so happy. We stayed in the hut for quite while until the bad juju finally left.
So, while it was a good experience, I think I've had my share of juju's in Africa and don't need to see it again!