Tsavo elders keep alive the ancient profession of village crying

Voi,

Thursday, October 12, 2023

KNA by Wagema Mwangi

It is a moonless night under the brooding Tsavo skies. Soothing darkness has fallen over hundreds of homesteads in Bungule village in the remote areas of Kasighau in Voi sub-county. Heavy silence reigns.

In the dense bushes separating silent homesteads, several shadows slink stealthily. Low growls follow as hungry stray mongrels forage for food remains.

Then, three penetrating sharp beeps of a whistle rip through the air. The sound shatters the silence. The mongrels freeze; ears cocked. Then just as quietly, they melt away.  

A sonorous feminine voice follows.

“Residents of Bungule! Remember tomorrow’s meeting at the library at 10 AM to elect the Wildlife Works bursary committee. Those who miss should only blame themselves!” the voice yells.

An old woman wearing a heavy coat to combat the night chill emerges from one path. A whistle dangles from her neck. At the entrance of every dark home, she stops to repeat her ritual; three whistle blows followed by the bursary committee message.

Her clear and well-modulated voice reverberates over the sleeping land. As she walks away, her voice carries far into the night. Even after she is swallowed by thick darkness, her message floats back in a dreamy echo.

“We normally work at night when almost everyone is at home,” explains Ms. Ruth Wali, a village crier from Bungule village.

At 70, Ms. Wali is one of the oldest village criers in the region. She is amongst hundreds of others scattered across the remote villages in Taita-Taveta countryside whose special assignments include walking long distances to announce messages to residents.

The art of town crying is as old as humanity. In the medieval Roman and Greek empires, the royal criers traipsed cobbled streets announcing king’s edicts to loyal subjects. Their proximity to the kings elevated the profession into one of the most revered in royal courts.

Revolution in communication technology have all but rendered the art of town criers obsolete. However, the profession has not lost its shine in rural hamlets in Taita-Taveta where it is practiced to date. Locally known as Waghosi Walughongo, the Tsavo criers are a hallowed lot.

The total trust and fidelity to the criers’ message remain key factors that have made them continue shining and outlive their medieval counterparts. In fact, messages transmitted through the word of mouth by Walughongos carry the highest degree of believability amongst the local residents.

“They cannot lie to us. We trust them more than we trust messages whose source we don’t know,” says Ms. Vero Mwasi, a farmer in Ndome village.

That a practice regarded as outdated continues to flourish at an era where information is relayed to audience in real-time is a testament to the enduring legacy of village criers who continue to disseminate information to thousands in Tsavo rural communities.

 “Walughongos have defied technology. Even with modern phones and radios, they are the primary drivers of community’s public participation activities in rural areas,” says Mr. Johannes Mwazaule, senior chief for Kasighau location in Voi sub-County. 

The Walughongos are so revered that success of any function demanding public participation is incomplete without their input. With over 700 villages across the four sub-counties of Taveta, Mwatate, Wundanyi and Voi, their established strong networks are central in passing information to the grassroot publics.

Through their extensive grassroot connections, these criers who double as village elders can reach hundreds of homesteads in remote and marginalized areas poorly served by cellular networks.

Mr. Mwazaule says the criers serve marginalized people who largely rely on information by word of mouth.

“Majority are in informal settlements, remote villages and marginalized areas that are not covered by electronic items like phones, TVs and radios,” he said.

For ease of work, a Walughongho is assigned a specific number of homesteads. At Bungule village, Ms. Wali oversees a hundred homesteads. This gives her a coverage area of slightly over two to four kilometers square. In other villages, walughongos cover even more formidable distances especially where homesteads are few and far apart.

They mobilize for public functions like land adjudication, bursary issuances, compensation from wildlife damages, health barazas, sensitization on hygiene and distribution of food aid. They are also used to announce visits by expected dignitaries. Some heavily-funded events have turned into spectacular flops after organizers disregarded the indispensable role of Walughonhos in planning for public mobilization.

They also inform villagers to attend mourning rituals and burials. They also arbitrate over small disputes within the households they oversee.

Despite their importance, a Walughongo is largely a volunteer’s job bestowed on one based on the level of trust by the village. There is little financial benefit because it neither has a salary nor allowances. If anything, the job is characterized by monumental challenges. From working at night to major risks of encountering wildlife roaming in the villages, the walughongos also contend with rain, cold and navigating hostile terrain to deliver their message.

Ms. Wali says she often leaves her domestic duties to do the village rounds especially when the message to be delivered is urgent or arrives late.

“If you had retired to bed early, you must get up to start making your rounds. If you fail, the whole event is bound to fail,” she explains.

In dry seasons when elephants invade the villages, she has to make her rounds early before darkness falls to avoid the jumbos at night. When she fails to cover all her assigned homesteads, she gets up very early at dawn to take the message for the remaining homes.

Such challenges aside, the opportunity to serve her community and interact with neighbors at a more personal level has been personally fulfilling. She admits being happy when villagers attend public participation to exercise their constitutional rights.

She however proposes the government to introduce a stipend to cater for expenses like modern whistles, gumboots, umbrellas and flashlights. She also says a uniform for walughonghos should be introduced to add color and prestige to this noble profession.

“This work is very crucial and has tough assignments. We can do it better with proper tools, gear and motivation,” she says.

Courtesy; KNA