The Masked Spirit as a Site of Signification


By


 Obododimma Oha









What fascinates me about the Igbo masked performance is not the claim that the masked dancer is the spirit of ancestor and that it emerges from ant holes. What fascinates me is that it is, together with its idea and general performance, a   wonderful signifying practice. OK, even the claim that it is a spirit of the ancestor, that such a spirit emerges from ant holes, is part of this signifying practice. Its identification as a spirit of the dead ancestors is really what masking is all about: it unifies presence and absence in the mask and unless you go inside the mask to verify the claim (which would amount to a cultural violation of the sacred), how could you tell what is inside the mask?

Even if it is the human being that is inside the mask asking, as we could find in Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart: “Odulukwe’s body, do you know me?” is the human not really half-mortal and half-spirit or soul? Do we not at death merely discard the flesh and the spirit travels on? In that unusual thinking, is the human flesh not just a mask and/or costume holding the spirit? Are we not already always masked spirits, and what we now call masked spirit in culture is a mere secondary form, thrice removed from reality, Plato would add in his theory of forms?

 Further, claiming that it is the spirit of the ancestor not only invites us to accord such a mask the respect the hallowed forebears deserve, but also makes becoming an insider, an initiate, desirable! It is when one is initiated that one would have access to the sacred knowledge and know what is inside the mask. One who desires to know should know (fully). Interestingly, this knowing of what moves inside the mask is called ima mmanwu (literally, “knowing the masked spirit) in my village. The initiation is the act of knowing, of getting familiar with the masked spirit and its signification. An initiate is then understood as one who knows, not just what is inside the mask, but the entire signifying practice of the mmanwu. Which is why the non-initiate is referred to (yet a signifying dimension) as ogbodu nti abadaba (literally, non-initiate of large ears). How can one have large ears (that are naturally adapted to sharp listening) and hear without comprehending? It is, indeed, an irony! An ogbodu may be present among those who know what moves inside the mask and would not comprehend their communication in various modes! That ogbodu, as put in the hyperbolic “nti abadaba” really has large but useless ears.

Why would the ogbodu in their deplorable naivety not be told that the masked spirit emerges from ant holes? If indeed the craft of clandestine communication privileges deception through the sign, this is one of them. Among the initiates, the use of codes and ciphers to include and exclude, which are part of the mystification of the masked icon, includes making the ogbodu believe such things as emergence from ant holes. This is not to say that the mmanwu practitioners cannot deploy magical arts and really make entities like the masked dancer come out of ant holes or wall crevices and even to disappear. But, obviously, somebody is making a fool of another about another’s lack of knowledge about the signifying practice, about signification in signification, about signification beyond signification!

A test usually administered by the adukwu to find out whether one is an initiate further proves that membership is signification (and its decoding).The adukwu  would say to the person: "Gosi m akwukwu mmuo" (literally, "Show me the leaves of the spirit"). The "leaves" may not be real leaves of any tree. The addressee, if an initiate into the secret communication, should be able to decode "akwukwo mmuo" ("leaves of the spirit") very easily. An ogbodu would display ignorance by taking leaves literally and denotatively and naming leaves. But signification in mmanwu is not a gamble! It is better not to gamble and get into bigger trouble. There could be (and often are) checkpoints, tougher riddles beyond igosi akwukwu mmuo ("Showing the leaves of the spirit")!

Akwukwo mmuo proves that discrimination is crucial in mmanwu signification. Just the way that shibboleth and sibboleth of The Holy Bible are used in discrimination and identification of enemies! Akwukwo mmuo helps an initiate in dealing with an outsider who pretends to be an insider!

Further, the presence of an ogbodu among adukwu when the secrets of mmanwu signification is given some revelation often attracts a derogatory alert, "Ogbodu na-esi" ("There  is the stench of a non-initiate"). Such an alert, which is again coded only for the insiders' comprehension, makes the discussants become war. This alert may also convey the idea, "Don't go ahead with the discussion because there is an intruder" or "Be cautious and use a coded speech instead." But, why would the non-initiate's presence be described as a "stench"? Obviously, it is a derogatory remark. But apart from this, it is cognitively the ogbodu of large ears is a mere animal with a distinct smell. The  smell is the vulnerability of the mmanwu signification in that discussion! The smell is the risk of tolerating an outsider!

To be able to decode the uttered or displayed signs about a performance, one must be initiated into the signs of the practice. Initiation is an entry into a signification, into a world.  That initiation into signification shows us that the practitioners look at signification as knowledge, and are cautious about it. It is a weapon for protection, as well as that of discrimination. Discrimination is important in this case; initiates, or the adukwu, must have to be differentiated from the ogbodu and directed appropriately. It is not public knowledge even if the performance is on the public square and the lect in use is what even speaker in that locality understands.

Consider the wall murals! One in which the mmanwu is mounted on the inyinya (horse) narrates in adulation that that particular mmanwu has risen in rank because o gbuole anyinya (It has killed a horse). In our community, the killing of a horse by the mmanwu is seen as a kind of high chieftaincy, even though a new addition to the mmanwu semiotics of authority. The killing of a horse was not always there in the culture. Even the horse was later introduced into the culture by the Igbo neighbours from the Northern part of Nigeria, and owning or riding a horse was treated as a special privilege, what more a spirit riding the horse! Further, horse meat was rare. Killing the animal (which is more than the act of slaughtering) and making the meat that is rare available was seen as unique, something other competitors in mmanwu should try if they could!

Another important dimension of signification in this cultural production is the seen in the song and proverbial utterances of the Nne Mmuo (Mother Spirit), which I partially mentioned in anther bog essay. The Nne Mmuo entertains through elevated wise utterances and special songs, which thrill mostly the elderly people in the audience, unlike the iti aba (violent thud of the “head” on the ground) associated with the Okoro Mmuo (Youthful masked Spirit). The youths, understandably, flock around the Okoro Mmuo as he goes round ecstatically performing the iti aba around the square. The Nne Mmuo knows how to move action and move souls through its are pithy sayings, weighed too “heavy” with age to engage in any gymnastics. Her own type of gymnastics is in the craft of speech.
 Are you surprised that the Igbo anthropomorphically signify these spirits as Nne Mmuo (Mother Spirit), Okoro Mmuo (youthful masked spirit), and akakpo (midget spirit); that is, giving them human attributes? The culture even feminizes one of them (Mother Spirit). Why? I know that nne (mother) is the source of everything; the greatest spirit. Feminizing one of the spirits is just one of the projections of our attributes as humans to spirits! They don’t have to display their sexual parts for us to confirm this.

The words of the Nne Mmuo are the just in character, for, as the elderly “Mother” spirit, she must utter the kind of things and kind of manner spectators expect ancestors, especially their “mothers” who have access to ancient knowledge, to be able to put it. The Nne Mmuo is not a trifler; is associated with serious things. We are told in Chinua Achebe’s Arrow of God that in the night, the Mother Spirit went round the community and wailed for the “murder” of her children by Christian cultural invaders. Also in Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe writes that Uzowulu’s problem with his wife and with his inlaws led to mothers spirits being brought up to the village square for the adjudication. Impartial judges that they are, the mother spirits went straight to the point and heard from both sides. They quickly dismissed the case as trivial and told Uzowulu what he should do. The ancestors had spoken and there was not rigmarole or objection.

The Mother Spirit is economical, yet profound with speech. That orientation was good for her authority, compelling for rhetoric. That orientation makes her drama find a home in the art of elderly speech; also in the general mimesis of the clan.

One thing that could be learnt from this is that the mother spirit’s gender, clearly female (even if men are in control of masked spirit cultural production), raises a question about women transmitting and perpetuating significations that derogate and denigrate them in many African cultures. The female in the masked spirit performance is “mother” and both spirits and all adukwu must submit to this holder of the ofo or oji, staff of her authority. What is very interesting about it is that she is the centre of the mmanwu signification. If the spirit-presence is feminized, even if in a theatrical make-believe, the culture must have a special place for femininity in the signification. That the female enters a signifying system that de-privileges women and even propagates it through cultural productions is a strange situation. 

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