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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