Azaghvana E-Book 2003 - Flipbook - Page 257
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kaw zighe = sandy soil (kwa qualifies it as being not just sand)
dalɓa = soil where water gathers (it is black soil, similar to a vertisol)
tshakwa = soil with high contents of eroded rock
We were informed that all soils were considered to be good, and that the quality depended
first of all on the care taken to develop them behind the terrace walls. This statement not only
shows the importance of manure, but also explains why the most limited amount of space
could be used to make small terraces (dugh ltha) for mountain farming.
This view was confirmed by bulama Ghdaka of Hembe, who listed the following soils:
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hay tshakwa
hay kurɗe
kaw zhighe
hay riɓithe
soils with high contents of eroded rock
soft soils (not sandy)
sandy soils
clay soils
When asked which was the best soil, he confirmed what we had already learned in Ghwa'a,
namely that all soils were good and it would depend on the care taken of them. We queried
that by asking whether some farmland was naturally guɓe (fertile), and were told that it would
depend on whether they were fertilised. In that context, our friend distinguished between dung
(vara) and modern fertiliser (vara ga yuɗe = fertiliser of the white man). We can conclude
from this statement that vara, animal manure, was in pre-colonial and early colonial times the
only manure available.
We subsequently explored the different parts of Dghweɗe and their predominant natural soils,
by comparing our results from Hembe with people from Hudimche:
Hay tshakwa starts in the lower parts of Gathaghure up to Ghwa'a and Kunde, including Hembe,
then down to the plain. Hudimche is hay tshakwa and the red soil on the way up to Kwalika is also
hay tshakwa. Korana Basa and Korana Kwandama have mainly hay riɓithe, while the upper parts
of Gathaghure and Gharaza have hay kurɗe. In some areas, in particular on top of a massif, one
often finds a mixture of hay tshakwa, kurɗe and riɓithe, while kaw zighe is rather found along
with the lower parts of mountains. Between the foothills and the plains, one finds predominantly
hay kurɗe.
My protagonists also knew about the distribution of soils in the adjacent plains, and pointed
out that the Gwoza plain was a mixture of hay riɓithe and hay tshakwa. With regard to the
intramountainous eastern plain, we would find hay riɓithe at its southern and northern ends,
while in the middle, as far north as Arbokko, kaw zhighe was the dominant soil, but towards
Kughum we would find dalɓa.
Back in the mountains, I was told by my friends that manure was put on the farmland where
they settled. If the farmland nearby was fertile enough, they would carry the manure further
away, but still not too far from home. People could build their house anywhere, my friends
claimed, and there was not so much a preferred soil in terms of farming when they were
looking for a suitable place. Instead, one would always look where one could find clay, either
by digging deep or on the surface, because clay was essential for building a house.
We will discuss later how the terrain of a hamlet (khuɗi luwa or 'stomach of a settlement') was
shaped across a hillside over generations, consisting of the platforms for the houses and their
farmyards, and the stairs and pathways connecting the various topographical levels with the
infields. In our two dedicated chapters about the house, we not only explore this, but also how
the metaphorical term khuɗi for 'stomach' was applied to the ritual centre in the foyer of a
house. There was an aesthetic interplay between the cosmological and labour-intensive
dimensions of food production in the tough semi-arid mountain environment, and their ritual
and architectural representations will be described.
Concerning the importance of manure, my friends again pointed out to me that in the past
animal manure was used, but in those days only rich people had animals from which to obtain
manure. Therefore many people borrowed animals and reared them for their owners in order
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