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Katholieke Universiteit Leuven

Faculteit Psychologie en Pedagogische Wetenschappen


Departement Sociale en Culturele Antropologie

The Emergence of the Present


A Phenomenological Study
of Divination, Time, and the Subject
in Senegal and Gambia

Proefschrift aangeboden tot het verkrijgen van de graad van Doctor in de Sociale en
Culturele Antropologie door Knut Graw o.l.v. Prof. Dr. F. De Boeck
2005
The Emergence of the Present
A Phenomenological Study of Divination, Time,
and the Subject in Senegal and Gambia

Knut Graw, 2005


Promotor: Prof. Filip de Boeck
Thesis submitted in partial fulfilment of the degree of Doctor in Social and Cultural Anthropology,
Catholic University of Leuven (K. U. Leuven), Belgium.

The importance that is attributed to divinatory consultation in Senegal and Gambia is so wide-reaching that
hardly a sphere of life is exempted from it. Drawing on the description and analysis of the cultural and
phenomenological properties of Senegambian divinatory praxis, as well as the study of the content of divinatory
consultations, life-histories, and the general ethnography of the Senegambian lifeworld, this study shows that
divination is not just an abstract search for knowledge but forms an encompassing performative and generative
hermeneutic cultural technology of hope and prospect that affects the subject in ways that arel most fundamental.
The significance of divination in the Senegambian context lies in the opening up of an intentional cultural space
that allows the subject to realize and confront the issues which are at the core of his or her concern or affliction
(Chapter 1). By naming and referring to different aspects of reality such as the body, the house, the family, or
the dreams of the person, the concrete articulations of the divinatory enunciation resonate with the personal and
cultural lifeworld and reshape the way it is experienced (Chapter 2). As the diviner succeeds to address the
issues and questions that are most significant for his client, different paths of thought and reflection appear and
start to complete and reshape the subjects understanding of his or her own personal situation in an atmosphere of
trust and intersubjective nearness (Chapter 3). In the attempt to gain insight and spell out the possible
developments of the clients future, Senegambian divination is in itself chronopoetic, time-making, i.e. shaping
and re-shaping the subjects personal time consciousness (Chapter 4). The significance of divinations time-
making quality is further explored in relation to one of the most frequent topics of divinatory consultation: the
wish for and possibility of migration (Chapter 5). It is argued that even if divination does not always lead to the
fulfilment of the persons wishes, it continues to unfold significant transformative and empowering dimensions
by recognizing the subject in his or her full subjectivity, responding to his concerns and afflictions, and providing
the force for an alternative, ritual form of (political) struggle for recognition, self-realization, and a prospectful
future. Paralleling the sequential structure of the divinatory process, the study ends with the description and
analyis of the praxis of sadaa, the charitable distribution of ritual offerings which has to safeguard or at least
positively influence the predicted developments, and which allows for the ritual reinscription of the individual
subject into the larger intersubjective lifeworld (Chapter 6).
Contents

Acknowledgements 1

Introduction 3
Research History 3
Divination and West African Maraboutic Praxis 6
Anthropological Perspectives on Divination in Sub-Saharan Africa 7
The Phenomenological Orientation of this Study 11
Overview 12

Chapter One
Locating nganiyo: Divination as Intentional Space 15
Structure and Development of the Divinatory Encounter 16
Nganiyo 18
Nganiyo, Yeene, Niyya: Semantic Meaning and Phenomenological
Implications of Divinatory Terminology 19
Heart, Self, Mind, and the Person:
Geomantic Categories and the Location of Nganiyo 25
Ramalu: Introducing Islamic Geomancy 28
Niitooroo and the Origin of Nganiyo 45
Niitooroo as Trauma 47
Metaphors of Uncertainty: Subjunctivity, Intentionality,
and the Existential Significance of Divinatory Consultation 50
Conclusion 55

Chapter Two
Structure, Content, and Significance of the Divinatory Enunciation:
Divination as Resonance 57
Kuuringo/Petaw:
Introducing Senegambian Cowrie Shell Divination 58
Positions in Cowrie-Shell Divination:
their Names and their Meaning 63
From Technical Knowledge and Linear Interpretation
to Force and Intuition 81
Immediacy and Emphasis as Modalities of Divinatory Signification 87
The Emergence of the Noematic Correlate:
Divinatory Enunciation as Ontogenetic Resonance 94
Chapter Three
Divination as Hermeneutic Encounter: Reflections on Understanding,
Dialogue, and the Intersubjective Foundation of Divinatory Consultation 101
Understanding Divinatory Enunciations 102
Divination and the Hermeneutic Situation 112
Divinatory Consultation and Dialogue 119
Elements of Dialogue in Senegambian Divinatory Praxis 121
Dialogue as Relation 136
Reflections on the Intersubjective Foundation
of the Divinatory Process 146
The Atmosphere of the Divinatory Encounter 148
Recognition and Trust in the Divinatory Encounter 150
Cultural and Interpersonal Significance of the Cultural
Persona of the Diviner 151
Theoretical Consequences of the Dialogic and Intersubjective
Dimensions of Divinatory Consultation 154

Chapter Four
Divination and Time 159
Introduction 159
Considerations of Time and Temporality in the Anthropological
Study of Divination 163
Divination and the Phenomenology of Time 165
Divination and the Phenomenology of Time Consciousness 166
Divination and Existence 168
Nyaatotaa: Advancement as Object of Divinatory Inquiry and
Personal Aspiration 170
Divination as Hope 176

Chapter Five
Divination as Access to the World? Reflections on Globality, Locality,
and the Path of Travel in Senegambian Divinatory Praxis 185
A.s Case (I): History 186
Why Travel? Globalisation as Absence
and Psychodynamic Process 188
A.s Case II: The Pronouncement 197
Divination as Hope and Prospect (Return) 200
Divination as Access to the World 202
Chapter Six
The Logic of Giving: Sadaa and the Ritual Insistence on
Intersubjectivity in Senegambian Divinatory Praxis 207
Sadaa as Subjactivity 210
The Logic of Objects 212
Sadaa and the Significance of Colour 215
Sharing Sadaa and the final Duwaa 221
Closing the Ritual Process: Sadaa as Integration 226

Comparative Glossary of Divinatory Terms 231

References 235
Acknowledgements

My foremost thanks go to the diviners and their clients who shared their knowledge
and experiences with me. Without their openness and amity this research would not
only have been impossible, it also would have made no sense.
In the Casamance, I thank the Khalifa Ibrahima Souane, his brothers, and the other
people of Medina Souane for welcoming me and my family in their midst. I especially
thank Abdoulaye Karamba Faty who gave me and my family a home in his house,
and his son Kabiru for his help and friendship.
I thank Aziz Diatta for teaching me Mandinka and for assisting me on several, often
difficult research excursions. Without his dedication, social talent, and linguistic
abilities I doubt that this research would have worked the way it did.
For their hospitality in Sedhiou and Dakar I am grateful to Enrico and Christina
Cesanelli, Morena and Ricardo Barbieri, Adama Souane, and Katherine Kilroy-
Marac.
I thank my advisor Prof. Filip De Boeck for the best supervision I can imagine, for
visiting me in Senegal, and for the careful and appreciative reading of everything I
wrote.
Dating back to before the beginning of this doctoral research, I thank both him and
Prof. Ren Devisch for their most inspiring teaching during the Masters program in
Social and Cultural Anthropology in 1998/1999 and the Advanced Masters program
1999/2000.
My colleagues at the Africa Research Centre Ann, Katrien, Johan, Koen, Peter, and
Steven make it a pleasure to work in Leuven.
I gratefully acknowledge the financing of this project by the Fund for Scientific
Research-Flanders (FWO).
I thank my parents for their unconditional support as long as I can remember.
My warmest thanks go to Ilse. Not only for tolerating the long periods of absence that
came with this research, but for everything that is there to come.
Introduction

The present study offers a phenomenological analysis of Senegambian divinatory


praxis. The structure of the study follows the sequential structure of the divinatory
process, starting with the initial silent articulation of ones personal intention or
concern onto the objects used in the divinatory procedure, and ending with the
execution of the prescribed ritual remedies.

Research History

The original research proposal of my doctoral research project was entitled Dream
and imaginary as cultural space of mediation: an anthropology of local dream
experience, interpretatory praxis, and globalisation among the Mandinka of southern
Senegal. The main theoretical interest behind that proposal consisted of the question
in how far one could speak about dreaming as a mediating space between different
cultural and experiential dimensions, and how this mediation through dreams could be
seen as contributing to the formation of individual subjectivity and the experience of
the contemporary lifeworld. One of the main ethnographic starting points was the
investigation into the relation between dream experience and interpretation on the one
hand, and divinatory praxis on the other. Another important aspect of the original
proposal concerned the question in how far dream experience and interpretation
would prove to mediate not only individual experience but also the general
sociocultural experience of the processes of globalisation and economic
marginalisation that increasingly mark the condition of the subject in the
contemporary, postcolonial lifeworld.
During the course of the field research, carried out in southern Senegal
(Middle Casamance), Gambia (Serekunda), This and Dakar from February 2002 till
March 2004, it became clear, however, that in the Senegambian context the most
important cultural space of mediation does not consist of dream experience or
interpretation as such but rather lies in the divinatory encounter in which personal
experiences (and dreams regularly surface), intentions, longings, and expectations can
Introduction

be articulated, confronted and dealt with. In other words, it turned out that dream
experience and interpretation were included into, encompassed, and even transcended
by the divinatory encounter. As a result, the topic of divination, that from the
beginning of this research formed an important ethnographic entry to the study of
subject formation and cultural mediation through dreams and their interpretation,
became this studys main focus.
The field research took place in several phases. A preparatory phase of two
months for language tuition by a qualified teacher in This, some 60km east of Dakar,
in order to acquire a basic knowledge of the grammar and a first vocabulary of
Mandinka, the language of my host community and lingua franca for large parts of
inland southern Senegal (and Gambia), and for logistic preparations in Dakar (Feb. -
March 2002), was followed by a first phase of ethnographic research in a Mandinka
village in the Middle Casamance, some 45km west of the regional centre of Sedhiou
(April - July 2002).
The main purpose of this first phase of research was to meet the people I was
going to live with for the time to come, to familiarize myself with the general social
and economic conditions, to get acquainted with the language, and to start first
ethnographic research activities. In the beginning, these consisted of simple
observation and the attendence to local festivities and ceremonies such as baptisms
(kungliyo), marriages (futuwo), the commemoration of the martyrdom of Ali (muskuto
salo), and the celebration of the birthday of the prophet Mohamed (gammo). Later on,
my research activities became more extensive and included, for instance, a number of
interviews with the khalifa, the religious and de facto political head of the village, on
(religious) healing (jaraarloo) and divination (juberoo), activities for which he was
known far beyond the confines of the village and in which he had long-standing
experience. At that time, however, given the emphatically private and secret character
of maraboutic, divinatory consultation it was impossible for me to be present in actual
sances.
This period was followed by a second extensive phase of explorative field
research in the Middle Casamance, This, Dakar, and the Gambia (December 2002-

4
Introduction

Illustration 0.1: Al Khalifa Ibrahima Souane (centre), at the moment of the distribution of
mungko, a paste made from rice flour and sugar, prepared for and consumed during most
religious ceremonies.

August 2003). A breakthrough for the research was achieved by following local
patterns of knowledge transmission and to establish a personal relationship with ritual
specialists such as healers and diviners. I choose not to insist upon the statute of
seemingly neutral observer but adopted the position of a student (karandingo).
Following the local pattern of apprenticeship and transmission of ritual knowledge, a
pattern that always includes payments and donations (even between father and son),
the status and value of divinatory and other ritual knowledge was recognized. At the
same time and as importantly, by acknowledging the value of and paying for the
knowledge one receives, not only the status of that knowledge but, and this is what is
really at stake here, the status and authority of the ritual specialist are acknowledged
in the proper way. This proved to be crucial, for only from this position of ritual and
moral authority it was possible for the diviner or healer to explain and justify the
presence of a third party (i.e. the student) to his clients in a convincing and legitimate
way. In 2003 and a third period of research in the spring of 2004, this way of

5
Introduction

integrating oneself into local structures of authority and apprenticeship lead to very
fruitful relationships with more than ten different diviners in Senegal and Gambia.
These cooperations resulted in an intensive apprenticeship in Islamic geomancy
(ramalu) and cowrie-divination (kuurungfayo), extensive interviews with specialists
and clients, as well as the documentation and recording of more than 60 consultations.

Divination and West African Maraboutic Praxis

The importance that is attributed to divinatory consultation in Senegal and Gambia is


so far-reaching that hardly a sphere of life is exempted from it. Issues of health,
fertility, conjugal and financial well-being, professional and electoral success,
business and sport performances, the realization of ones plans for examinations, job
applications, as well as travel and migration are often felt to necessitate the prior
consultation of a divination specialist. In Senegal and Gambia divination in many
cases forms an integral and prerequisite part of the larger field of maraboutic
consultation and ritual intervention.1 Despite the centrality of maraboutic services and
divination in Senegambian everyday life, West Africanist scholarship has for the most
part focused on the historical, political, and/or socioeconomic dimensions of
maraboutism rather than on the in-depth analysis of maraboutic consultation, esoteric
praxis and the meaning that these practices unfold both for the individual subject
taking recourse to maraboutic consultation as well as for society as a whole. As a
result, we are well informed about the political and economic role of Islamic ritual
specialists in Senegalese society, especially there where maraboutism and religious
life articulate itself in one of thein Senegal particularly prominent and often highly
organizedIslamic brotherhoods (cf. e.g. the classic studies of Cruise OBrien 1971
[and, more generally, 2003] on the Mouride-brotherhood and Villaln 1995 on the

1
In the Senegambian context, persons specializing in the autochthonous and/or Islamic
arts of divination and healing are commonly addressed with the same terms of respect as
those used to refer to a person renown for his religious education and his learnedness in
the Islamic literary tradition. It is these titles or names of respect (such as mooroo in
Mandinka, serigne in Wolof, or thierno in Pulaar) which are commonly translated into
French and English as marabout.

6
Introduction

Tijaniyya). With regard to the social and political role of these Islamic brotherhoods,
the relation between marabouts and their followers (next to the respective section in
Cruise OBrien and Villaln cf. also Diop 1981: 297-319) and the general iconic and
religious function of maraboutism have also received considerable attention (cf. Hecht
& Simone1994: 97-118, and especially Roberts & Roberts 2003). Despite this well
developed scholarly body of work for the sociopolitical, religious, and cultural role
and significance of Senegalese maraboutism, we still know relatively little about the
personal and cultural experience that maraboutic consultation constitutes for the
individual subject outside the more institution-bound and formalized marabout-
disciple relationship.
In order to develop an understanding of why people take recourse to private
maraboutic services, i.e. e. outside strict religious or ethnic affiliations and public
ceremonies, and why this is of such a central importance to most people in Senegalese
and Gambian society, this study looks at these ritual specialists not as political and
economic f/actors but as the causal agents and mediators of highly performative and
generative hermeneutic processes and ritual action. In terms of ritual analysis, this
emphasis on the generative and performative dimensions of maraboutic consultation
implies a necessary change in perspective, away from the person of the
marabout/diviner and his abilities as centre of the divinatory process, towards an
analysis of the experience and existential involvement of the subject who turns to
divinatory consultation.

Anthropological Perspectives on Divination in Sub-Saharan Africa

Until the early 1990s, most studies of divination in Africa and elsewhere focused on
either the cultural-historical, social, or cognitive properties of divinatory procedures.
In this regard at least three different approaches can be distinguished: First, studies
that concentrate on the ethnographic and historical description of the textual
(mythology associated with the origin of divination, sacred texts, divinatory manuals
etc) and material basis (figurines, divination boards, astrological instruments and
calculation tables etc) of the various forms of divination in historical and

7
Introduction

contemporary African societies (cf. for instance the pioneering works on Ifa and
related form of divination by Ren Trautmann [Trautmann 1939] and William
Bascom [Bascom 1969 & 1980], but also more recent studies such as the different
contributions to Langer & Lutz 1999 or LaGamma 2000). Generally, the analyses in
these studies are concerned with the ways in which divination manifests itself
textually or materially in different cultural contexts. Second, (structural-) functionalist
studies that focus on divination as a social practice and highlight divinations
significance as a central and often decisive instrument in the directing of (micro-)
political processes and the formation, maintenance and transformation of economic,
political and parental power relations at local levels (Turner 1975 [1961], Mendonsa
1982). In these studies, the significance of divination is primarily seen in its capacity
for (re-)organizing kinship and other power relationships in a local social
environment. And third, investigations that concentrate on the principles and rules of
the technique of divination and the epistemological and etiological assumptions that
lie at the basis of the divinatory procedures (in this regard cf. for instance Jaulin 1957
on Islamic geomancy).
From the 1990 s onwards, and advocated in an earlier, seminal and
programmatic article by Ren Devisch (Devisch 1985b), the literature on divination in
sub-Saharan Africa has experienced a shift in perspective and theoretical orientation
away from the levels of ethnographic cataloguing and external social analysis,
towards an approach that explores the internal, semiotic, semantic and/or
praxeological dimensions intrinsic to the divinatory process. Rather than denying the
value of (structural-) functional approaches to divination for the analysis of social
formation, transformation and micro politics, these more internal approaches aim at
the understanding and defining of the phenomenological and cultural properties that
are specific to divination and that distinguish it from other, non-divinatory cultural
practices of investigation and decision-finding. Following in the footsteps of the
program outlined by Devisch, recent investigations into the art of divination are less
concerned with cultural origins, technical procedures, and questions of social
functioning than with divination as a system of knowledge in action (Peek and
contributors 1991), embodiment and world-making (De Boeck & Devisch 1994), the
performative qualities inherent in the divinatory apparatus (Pemberton and

8
Introduction

contributors 2000), and the relation between divination and other therapeutic
traditions (Peek & Winkelman and contributors 2004). Following these recent
investigations into the synthesizing and generative dimensions of divination, I will
argue in this study that one of these fundamental generative dimensions of divination,
and maybe its most specific one, consists in its shaping influence on the formation of
subjective time consciousness and the situatedness of the subject in time. More
specifically, I will argue that divinatory praxis should not only be viewed as an
instrument of solution-finding for a variety of individual and family-related problems
but that it can, in a more encompassing perspective, also be understood as a cultural
praxis that is apt to apprehend and counter the possibilities and alterations that open
up and occur in the spatio-temporal order of the contemporary life-world.
Next to being explicitly subject-oriented, the approach that is followed
throughout this study is internal and semantic, and aims at disclosing the specific
qualities of Senegambian divinatory praxis from the inside of its own structure and
terminology. My approach is pronouncedly phenomenological and hermeneutical in
so far as it tries to analyze different aspects and details of the divinatory process in
their constitutiveness for the specific subjective and cultural experience that is
generated within and through the divinatory encounter. I hereby intend to avoid the
treatment of divination as a kind of cultural artefact or epistemic object that may be
described by the researcher as if existing apart from the hermeneutical situation and
existential concern of the individual cultural subjects involved in it. Instead, and here
I follow a hermeneutical tradition of understanding rather than explanation that
reaches from Dilthey to Heidegger and Gadamer, the analysis of Senegambian
divinatory praxis presented in this study aims at an understanding of the existential
significance that divination unfolds for the persons involved, not just as a search for
knowledge but as a source of transformation, empowerment, and hope.
The subject-oriented approach in this study takes its departure in the
phenomenological and existential analysis of certain key-notions of divinatory praxis.
On the other hand, the attempt to consider cultural praxis not just as a closed symbolic
system but as a means and environment for dealing both with individual situations of
affliction and longing as well as contemporary sociocultural alterations and
disjunctures, has much in common with the concerns of postcolonial theory (Fanon

9
Introduction

1968, Bhaba 1994, Mbembe 2000 among others), contemporary attempts in


philosophy striving to reconsider the position of the subject as a prerequisite for
political action (cf. Zizek 1999), and recent anthropological studies of individuality
and postcolonial subjectivity in Africa (Marie 1997, Werbner 2002).2 Independent of
the particular status that is ascribed or denied to the subject in different strands of
sociocultural theory, divinatory praxis, as well as the bodies of literature referred to
above, indicate that human existence cannot be thought of without a certain degree of
agency, self-determination, and biography. Without recognizing another persons
individuality, his subjective concerns, and his involvement in an existential
biographic trajectory, the understanding of other peoples lifes and lifeworlds is
impossible. Independent of the particular status that is ascribed or denied to the
subject in different strands of sociocultural theory, divinatory praxis, as well as the
bodies of literature referred to above, indicate that human existence cannot be thought
of without a certain degree of agency, self-determination, and biography.
Consequently, I would argue that a minimal definition or understanding of
subjectivity should not only refer to the reflexive self-awareness that characterizes
human consciousness bio- as well as ontologically, but it must also entail a notion of
what I would call subjactivity, that is, activity and situated being-in-the-world
motivated by specific concerns, self-understandings, and ideas, as well as by
sociocultural and economic conditions.
In its endeavour to consider cultural praxis in relation to the existential
situatedness and concrete experiences of the contemporary lifeworld, the present
study also has strong affinities with Susan Reynolds Whytes work on divination and
uncertainty (Whyte 1989, 1990, 1997, 2002) and, also ethnographically, Michael
Jacksons phenomenological and existentialist essays on Kuranko divination and
sacrifice (especially 1978 and 1998). In this context it is also instructive to compare
the aim of the present study with the work of Rosalind Shaw. Writing about the role
of divination in the lifeworld of Temne speakers in Sierra Leone, Shaw has argued in
a recent study that the imagery of Temne divination reflects and has been shaped by
experiences of suffering from slave trading and the perpetuation of these experiences

2
For a recent review of works on subjectivity, selfhood, and embodiment cf. also Van
Wolputte 2004.

10
Introduction

during colonial oppression (cf. Shaw 2002). I would argue that the present study
complements the work of Shaw in at least two regards: On the one hand, simply
because the techniques used in Sierra Leonian and Senegambian divinatory praxis are
closely related and can be seen as forming part of a larger transregional West African
cultural repertoire.3 More fundamentally, however, her and my study may be seen as
complementing each other in the sense that where Shaw emphasizes the extent to
which the divinatory symbolism and repertoire of different forms of divination used
by Temne in Sierra Leone form a kind of non-verbal ritual memory and respond to
periods of crisis brought about by slave trading and colonialism, the present study
highlights how today similar practices employed in the Senegambian context
contribute to the process of dealing with and healing of moments of longing and
experiences of crisis and exclusion relating to human existence in general as well as
to the alterations and disjunctures occurring in the contemporary, postcolonial
lifeworld. Seen in such a way, the retrospective and mnemonic as well as the
prospective and generative dimensions of West African divination come into view as
fundamental cultural means to respond to and deal with the predicaments of life today
and in the face of history.

The Phenomenological Orientation of this Study

Throughout this study, I refer to phenomenological theory in order to understand and


bring out the different qualities and dimensions of meaning intrinsic to the divinatory
encounter. Three main reasons account for this phenomenological orientation.
Already in the first chapter of this study it will become clear that the use of
phenomenological thought for the analysis of divinatory praxis had its initial reason in
certain unexpected parallels between divinatory and phenomenological terminology.
Another reason for the phenomenological orientation of this study is methodological.
Especially Husserlian phenomenology is primary concerned with the constitutional
analysis (Konstitutionsanalysen) of certain basic fields of experience such as space,
time, intersubjectivity. The methodological emphasis placed by Husserl on the

3
In this respect, also compare Shaw 1985 and 1991.

11
Introduction

concentration on reality as it shows itself to and is lived by the subject, and the
explicit suspension of inherited scientific and metaphysical preconceptions (cf. for
instance the famous phenomenological epoch and the technique of
phenomenological reduction)4, is something that informed my approach to the
understanding of the experience constituted by the divinatory encounter throughout
my research. A third reason lies in the attention that phenomenological thought
devotes to the analysis of the experience and existential significance of time (cf. e.g.
Heidegger 1989: 20-25), aspects without which divination, as I will argue in this
study, can not be understood in its full relevance.

Overview

Drawing on the description and analysis of the cultural and phenomenological


properties of Senegambian divinatory praxis, as well as the study of the content of
divinatory consultations, life-histories, and the general ethnography of the
Senegambian lifeworld, this study shows that divination is not just an abstract search
for knowledge but rather an encompassing performative and generative hermeneutic
cultural technology of hope and prospect that affects the subject in several very
fundamental ways. In the following paragraphs I will give an overview of the results
of the processual analysis that gives the present study its main structure.
The significance of divination in the Senegambian context lies first of all in
the opening up of an intentional cultural space that allows the subject to realize and
confront the issues which are at the core of his or her concern or affliction (Chapter
1). Chapter 1 also includes an introduction to the method and logic of Islamic
geomancy (ramalu) which represents one of the most common and most highly
regarded forms of divination practised by Mandinka and other Senegambian

4
For a good introduction to Husserls thought and the notions of epoch and reduction cf.
Bernet, Kern & Marbach 1996. For general introductions to phenomenology in German,
English, and French cf. e.g. Waldenfels 1992, Moran 2000, and Lyotard (2004 [1954]).
For a more specific discussion of the usefulness of certain phenomenological notions for
anthropology cf. Jackson 1996.

12
Introduction

specialists. By naming and referring to different aspects of reality such as the body,
the house, the family, or the dreams of the person, the personal and cultural lifeworld
originates anew as it emerges from and reveals itself through the concrete
articulations of the divinatory enunciation (Chapter 2). As the diviner succeeds to
address the issues and questions that are most significant for his client, different paths
of thought and reflection appear and start to complete and reshape the subjects
understanding of his or her own personal situation (Chapter 3). In the attempt to gain
insight and to spell out the possible developments of the clients future, Senegambian
divination is in itself chronopoetic, time-making, i.e. shaping and re-shaping the
subjects personal time consciousness (Chapter 4). The significance of its time-
making quality is shown in detail through the analysis of the wish for migration that
frequently surfaces in divination today (Chapter 5). It will be argued that even where
divination fails to bring about the changes the individual person wished for, it
continues to unfold its transformative and empowering dimensions by recognizing the
subject in his full subjectivity, responding to his or her concerns and afflictions, and
providing the force for an alternative, ritual form of (political) struggle for
recognition, self-realization, and a prospectful future. Following the sequential
structure of the divinatory process, the study ends with the description and analysis of
the praxis of sadaa, the recommendation and charitable distribution of ritual offerings
which have to safeguard or at least positively influence the predicted developments,
and which allows for the ritual reinscription of the individual subject into the larger
intersubjective moral lifeworld (Chapter 6).

13
Chapter One
Locating nganiyo: Divination as Intentional Space

The importance that is attributed to divinatory consultation in Senegal and Gambia is


so wide-reaching that hardly a sphere of life is exempted from it. Issues of health,
fertility, conjugal and financial well-being, professional and electoral success,
business and sport performances, the realization of ones plans for examinations, job
applications, as well as travel and migration are often felt to necessitate the prior
consultation of a divination specialist.
In order to inquire into the difficulties and possibilities of the clients
situation Senegalese and Gambian diviners employ a wide range of different
divinatory techniques. One of the most common forms is the divination with cowrie-
shells (kuroo in Mandinka, petaw in Wolof5). Shells are cast onto the floor or mat
where one is sitting. After every cast the diviner examines the position that the
cowrie-shells have formed for meaningful patterns or constellations that can be
interpreted and that will guide the diviners assessment of the consulters situation.
Another widespread form of divination is geomancy, or ramalu, as it is called in
Mandinka, a term derived from the Arabic darb ar-raml, the beating of the sand, or
khatt ar-raml, sand writing, indicating the original execution of this technique on a
surface of sand, a material basis that most marabouts today replace with writing paper
on which they work with a filt or ball pen. This technique consists in the drawing of a
number of random lines consisting of little stripes or dots from which the diviner then
derives distinct divinatory geomantic patterns, which are called doors (bungdaal) in
Mandinka, or houses (buyut) in Arabic, and possess distinct divinatory connotations

5
If not nearer specified, foreign words in the text are in Mandinka (Mand.), a variety of
the Mande-languages which are widespread throughout West Africa. Other foreign words
are either in Wolof which is spoken in and around Dakar, in most cities, along the
Gambian coast, and along the major traffic routes, or in (Classical) Arabic (Ar.), in which
many of the ritual specialists that I worked with achieve high levels of literacy. French and
German expressions are not specified as such.
Chapter 1

that can be interpreted by the diviner. Still another form of divination that I had the
chance to witness entailed the use of a little mat made of thin sticks, red cotton
threads and equipped with a number of amulets (safee). Folded once in the middle and
held motionless between the thumb and index finger of the right hand, the diviner
asks series of questions that might be relevant for his client. Despite his attempt to
keep his hand motionless, with certain questions the mat will unvoluntarily open up
and close againa movement that indicates either a positive answer to the question
posed or the possibility that what the consulter is looking for will realize itself. While
there are many more forms and techniques, including the casting of other objects such
as roots (suluufayo) or groundnut shells, the counting of prayer beads, dream
divination, and forms of not materially mediated direct voyance, each form with its
specific logic and technical requirements, the question arises what all these different
methods have in common? What is the specific quality that all these different forms
of divination share? What is divination in the Senegambian context and what does it
bring about?

Structure and Development of the Divinatory Encounter

The structure or development of a divinatory consultation can be shown as consisting


of several consecutive steps: First, the pronouncement of the nganiyo, i.e. the clients
question or concern. The client who approaches a diviner with a specific uncertainty,
difficulty or wish will never inquire directly about these issues. Instead, the question
that concerns the client is silently pronounced onto the objects that the diviner will
use during the procedure. Thereupon, it is the task of the marabout to locate the issues
which are at the core of the clients interest and concern through the means of
divinatory procedure. This locating of the clients nganiyo represents the first and
main emic criterium of the succes of a consultation. Will the diviner talk about
things that really concern me, will he see what I am looking for, will he really see me
in the patterns of the cowrie-shells, the geomantic signs, his dreams? Second, the
execution of the divinatory procedure and the subsequent interpretative action itself,
which is refered to as jubeero in Mandinka and seet in Wolof, literally an act of

16
Locating Nganiyo

looking at, regarding, or viewing that should not be understood as if limited to direct
visual perception but entails an encompassing consideration of the clients condition
through both, the divinatory signs appearing in the shells, the sandwriting, or dreams,
as well as through the diviners insight into the clients economic, social, and
existential situation.6 At this stage of the divinatory process, depending upon the
technique or method employed, different but intersecting metaphorics and
terminologies come into play. They construct a specific ritual environment, relate the
divinatory encounter to other sociocultural fields, and structure the emerging
divinatory pronouncements, all of which brings about a complex proces of poiesis,
poetic world-making (De Boeck & Devisch 1994) and emerging speech and
dialogue that sets the divinatory space apart from other, non-divinatory cultural
scenes. Third, the pronunciation and prescription of ritual recommendations and
remedies to the issues at stake, primarily in the form of sadaa (Mnd.) or sarax (Wlf.),
derived from the Arabic sadaqa, a term designating voluntary alms that in Islamic
thought are seen in contrast to the obligatory alms of zakat. And fourth, the execution
of these ritual recommendations through the taking out of sadaa (sadaa bondi), i. e.
the distribution of objects that range from sugarcubes and candles to cloth or food, to
individuals or groups of people who have either been indicated by the diviner or
chosen by the client himself, so that the predictions can realize themselves and the
predicted developments can be positively influenced.
Each of these consecutive phases of the divinatory process bears very
specific qualities that together provide for a highly performative cultural praxis that
effects the individual on several fundamental phenomenological levels. In this apter I
will concentrate on the first moment or gesture of the divinatory process: The
articulation and subsequent locating of the nganiyo. The gesture that opens up the

6
The emphasis on the viewing, contemplating aspect of visual activity, seems to contrast
with the emphasis on the seeing or perceiving quality of divinatory action in terms such
as voyance or clairvoyance, derived from the Latin videre through the French voir, to see.
One possible reason for this different semantic emphasis might be related to the question
of who is conceived of as the author of the divinatory pronouncements: the diviner, either
in his/her own clairvoyant capacity or as a medium, or the divinatory apparatus itself, i. e.
the shells, the writing on the sand, etc.

17
Chapter 1

divinatory space, draws the subject into its hermeneutic dynamics, and allows the
consulter to actively engage with her/his problems in a changing and challenging
contemporary lifeworld.

Nganiyo

In Senegalese and Gambian cultural settings divinatory consultation starts with the
silent utterance of the nganiyo, i.e. the subjects central motive, reason or question for
coming to the consultation. In many cases, the diviner will not explicitly ask the client
to pronounce their nganiyo but will simply give him or her some of the cowrie-shells
that he will use during the divinatory casting procedures, or the pen that he will use
for drawing and calculating the geomantic patterns. As the client is generally already
acquainted with the normal proceedings of a divinatory consultation, he will take the
cowries or the pen to his lips without a word and silently pronounce the reason for his
coming for consultation onto the divinatory paraphernalia. The pronunciation of the
reason or motivation for the consultation is, thus, in fact not directed to the diviner but
to the divinatory apparatus (or to the agents that might be considered to be behind
the clairvoyant potential of the divinatory proceedings).
While the client concentrates on pronouncing his/her intention, the diviner,
in anticipation of the beginning of the session, will study his tools, rearrange his
cloths, or change into a more comfortable sitting position, always avoiding to leave
the impression that he might be trying to catch a word of what the client is saying.
The fact that it is in most cases sufficient just to give the client the shells or pen
without explicitly asking him to pronounce the nganiyo, combined with the seemingly
casual way of dealing with this moment by the diviner and the simple fact that the
pronunciation is inaudible for the diviner and any other person present, makes that
this particular phase of the divinatory process, if noticed at all, is easily overlooked by
the observer. During the course of research, however, I have come to consider this
moment as one of the most crucial single clues to the understanding of what is at
stake in the divinatory encounter, what divination in the Senegambian context
actually is, what it does, and brings about.

18
Locating Nganiyo

The pronunciation of the nganiyo by the client is not simply an opening


gesture but a most decisive structural moment of the divinatory process. Drawing on
the analysis of the semantic meaning and the phenomenological implications of this
divinatory term, I will argue in this text that already with this very first ritual gesture,
divination shows itself not as an abstract search for knowledge but as an
encompassing and highly performative cultural praxis with very specific
phenomenological qualities and cultural consequences. More specifically, I will argue
that with the articulation of the nganiyo, Senegambian divination becomes
immediately performative by opening up what I will call an intentional spacea
performative cultural space for articulating and dealing with personal intententions,
hopes, and desires. A cultural space that not only reflects the intentional nature of the
human being but performatively responds to, negotiates, and transforms the cultural
subjects intentional situatedness in the lifeworld.
For this purpose, I will look at the relation between the notion of nganiyo, a
number of geomantic categories, and certain concepts, notions, and understandings of
the motivational grounds of divinatory consultation that could be understood as the
place or condition from which the nganiyo originates. I will argue that it is only in a
combined understanding of these interrelated dimensions that the divinatory
encounter comes into view in its fundamental relation to the intentional and
subjunctive being-in-the-world of the cultural subject. Furthermore, I will argue that it
is only in this relation to the intentional and the subjunctive that Senegambian
divinatory praxis can be grasped in its full existential significance.

Nganiyo, Yeene, Niyya: Semantic Meaning and Phenomenological Implications of


Divinatory Terminology

By Francophone Mandinka speakers the term nganiyo is most commonly translated as


lintention (intention) or, less frequently, as desire (desire). When I first noticed the
important role that this term plays in the divinatory terminology, I was struck: a
Mandinka term employed by diviners that let directly to intentionality and desire -
central concepts of phenomenology and psychoanalysis? Not metaphorical speech but

19
Chapter 1

a direct and almost technical terminology? A (too) overt link between divinatory
terminology and phenomenological theory?
The Mandinka term itself is derived from the Arabic niyya, a term which
again is most commonly translated as intention. Intention in the form of niyya plays,
for instance, a crucial role in the Islamic doctrines and practice of obligatory prayer
(Ar. salaat). These doctrines hold that a prayer that is spoken without the articulation
of the niyya, i. e. ones proper intention to fulfill the obligations of salaat, is invalid.
In the context of Senegambian maraboutic divination the term takes on a more general
meaning and can refer to what one wants to do, obtain, pursue, or, simply, to what the
consulter wants to know.
Sometimes, instead of nganiyo, another term, hajoo, is used when giving the
cowrie shells or another divinatory instrument to the client. This term, however,
equally derived from Arabic, is not normally synonymous with the term nganiyo. In
daily speech, hajoo does not translate neither as intention nor desire but refers to an
affair, issue, or undertaking that needs to be taken care of by the individual. But why,
then, can these terms be used alternatively when employed at this crucial beginning of
the divinatory encounter? When I inquired about the seemingly synonymous use of
these two terms, most diviners that I worked with insisted that while hajoo could be
used, the correct, technical term would not be hajoo but nganiyo. However, both
terms are used because the affair that preoccupies someone is finally what causes that
persons intention. The intention, in turn, reflects the persons affair and is directed to
its solution. Almost apodictically, one of the diviners that I worked with stated, your
affair is your intention! (ila hajoo wolum ila nganiyo leti). What such a statement
points to is that nganiyo and hajoo are not only used synonymously but that they are,
in a certain sense, actually the same. In referring to the intentional situation of the
consulting individual from different, somehow interdependent directions, one might
say that hajoo and nganiyo appear to be positioned in a relationship of dialectical
rather than direct synonymity in that the meaning dimensions of both terms extend
and reaffirm, rather than substitute each other. In the strict technical sense, however,
most diviners that I worked with insisted that the correct divinatory term to describe
what this situation is about is not hajoo but only nganiyo, the intention/desire of the
consulter.

20
Locating Nganiyo

What, then, is the meaning and significance of divinatory praxis if the first
act of the divinatory process consists in the pronunciation of the consulters personal
intention? What is the cultural sense and logic of divination if it characterizes itself
through its own terminology as dealing with a persons intention, and if the first task
of the diviner is conceived of as finding out or locating his clients intention? How
should divinatory praxis be understood if it presents itself as responding to the
nganiyo of the client or, more broadly formulated, as a response to the consulters
intentionality?
Intentionality is regarded as one of the central and most fundamental
concepts of phenomenological theory (Bernet, Kern & Marbach 1996: 85-96). First in
his Logische Untersuchungen (Husserl 1975 & 1984 [1900 & 1901], especially in the
fifth and sixth investigation) and later in his Ideen zu einer reinen Phnomenologie
(Husserl 1976 [1913]) Husserl emphasized that acts of consciousness
(Bewutseinsakte) are never empty, without content, but always including something
that is intended by and within the act. An act of perception, for instance, never takes
place as such but is always necessarily perception of something. The object of a
perceiving act can, therefore, not be separated from the act itself but is in itself always
already part of that consciousness of which it is the object. From such a perspective
on perception it becomes clear that if every single act of consciousness can be
characterized as intentional, human consciousness in general is defined and structured
by intentionality. In how far can this characterization of consciousness as intentional
help us to understand the significance of divination in the Senegambian context?
It should be clear that the nganiyo of the consulter in the divinatory
encounter cannot be directly equated with intention in the sense of Husserlian
intentionality. Intention, in the Husserlian sense, is the main characteristic of
intentionality as a structure that underlies all action and consciousness. As a structure
it is in itself abstract, an a-priori characteristic of consciousness that can only be
deduced from the normal phenomenal reality in an operation of what Husserl used to
call an eidetic reduction, a kind of stripping off of the phenomenon of its concrete
but incidental properties to its bare essentials. Nganiyo as the intention with which the
consulter approaches divinatory consultation is, instead, not abstract but necessarily
specific, always already concretized by the specific hopes, questions, and

21
Chapter 1

predicaments of the respective cultural subject. The significance of the


phenomenological notion of intentionality for the understanding of the concept of
nganiyo lies thus rather in the general implications and consequences of the
Husserlian insight for our understanding of human nature than in a possible identity
between the two concepts. The Husserlian notion of intentionality allows us to
recognize that the cogito is never self-sufficient but always already and necessarily
intentionally related to its lifeworld. Divination seems to know this. By directing itself
to the intention of the client, divination shows that it is aware that the person who
takes recourse to it is not interested in abstract knowledge but primarily in what
concerns her/him in her/his own personal situation, conflict, or predicament. The
interest of the divinatory search lies not in obtaining neutral information but in
bringing out something of what is most relevant and urgent for the consulter. In this
sense, divination can only be and is only meaningful and significant in so far as it is
responding to the issues the consulter is really concerned with.
At this point it is useful to come back to the observation of the synonymous
usage of the terms hajoo (affair, concern, issue, etc.) and nganiyo (intention) at the
beginning of the divinatory encounter. Tentatively, I have characterized the
relationship of these two terms as one of dialectical rather than direct synonymity in
order to express that while these terms do not mean the same, both seem to be
interrelated, if not correlative, in pointing at the same phenomenon from two different
but complementary directions. What could be said about this relation of dialectical
synonymity between hajoo and nganiyo if looked at from a Husserlian perspective?
In Ideen zu einer reinen Phnomenologie Husserl introduced the
terminological distinction between noesis and noema to emphasize the fact that the
distinction between intending act and intended object is not meant to portray
something like a subject-object relationship in the physical world but to describe the
intentional structure of consciousness itself (Husserl 1976 [1930]: esp. 200-224).
What is crucial here is that the intentional act (noesis) and the intentional object
(noema), are not experientially present as two seperate entities, but the intentional
lived experience itself always comprises already both, noesis and noema, at the same

22
Locating Nganiyo

time.7 Extrapolating between Husserls phenomenological reflections and the question


of the significance of the articulation of the nganiyo or hajoo at the beginning of the
divinatory encounter, the phenomenological implications of this first moment come
into view: In so far as an intentional act as noesis necessarily comprises a noematic
correlate, one could say that the articulation of the nganiyo by the consulter as an
intentional act always necessarily entails an issue (hajoo) that noematically
corresponds to the subjects intention. This has a number of consequences which, I
believe, are fundamental to understand the full scope of this first moment of the
divinatory encounter. Or, in other words, without recognizing the full
phenomenological connotations and implications of this first act of the divinatory
encounter it would be difficult to avoid the tendency to consider the divinatory
process only in terms of either its formal properties (method, mathematics, cognitive
requirements, etc), its symbolism, or only on the level of the explicit meaning of the
different divinatory statements that are expressed during the consultation.
What are these consequences? First, the consulter is not just the adressee of
divinatory discourse. From the beginning he or she is fully implied in it as an
intentional human being. This does not mean that the client necessarily has to engage
actively in the divining process or to enter into a dialogue with the diviner (although
the divinatory encounter will often lead to such a dialogic situation). Full implication
here means phenomenologically implied in the sense that what most characterizes the
person when she or he comes for consultation, i. e. the wish and the urge to come to
know something about his/her personal predicament, is fully recognized not only by
the diviner but by the structure of the divinatory encounter itself. At the very moment
that the client receives the divinatory objects in order to pronounce his or her
intention upon it, the client cannot remain in the position of a neutral observer (unless

7
The question remains if with this distinction between noesis and noema Husserl really
succeeded in disentangling the experiential knot (cf. e. g. the critiqual remarks by Bernet
in Bernet/Marbach/Kern 1996: 93ff.); for the purpose of the present analysis of divinatory
praxis, however, it appears more constructive and useful to me just to follow the epistemic
direction that is implied in this terminological struggle in order to recognize and better
understand the nature of the intrinsic link between the articulation of the nganiyo as
intentional act and the issue at hand (hajoo).

23
Chapter 1

he would, for whatever reason, consciously attempt to distance himself from the
whole event). Instead, the client is forced to become aware that it is his or her
personal and often secret concerns that form the central object of the divinatory
inquiry. Consequently, through the articulation of the nganiyo, the subject is forced to
open up to the inquiry. Simultaneously, he or she thereby undergoes a change in the
way the inquiry relates to her/his own situation. In a way, one could say that it is
already at this very early stage that the situation of the client becomes inevitably (at
least potentially) transformed. That which, until then, the person had kept largely to
himself and what was his most intimate secret (kungloo) is suddenly put under the
scrutiny of divinatory procedure. We can see that this transformation works noetically
as well as noematically in so far as the new intentional situation entails an attitudinal
change towards alertness, curiosity, expectation, responsiveness, etc. which is not
abstract but defined by the object of its intention, its specific hajoo, i. e. its concern,
desire, or whatever takes the position of the Husserlian noema. Through the
articulation of an always already concrete intentional issue, the necessary presence of
the noematic correlate in the intentional act makes that the subject is enabled and
forced to open up and to become responsive both to his or her own motivations and
motives, as well as to the divinatory process. Seen from the perspective of the
divinatory process, one could say that the moment of the articulation of the nganiyo
becomes phenomenologically transformative in taking the subject towards and into
the consultational situation that can no longer be approached in a neutral way. Rather,
the subject has to confront his or her own intentions and is forced to open up towards
the different ritual and discursive dimensions that will unfold in the further course of
the divinatory encounter. The analysis of the notion of the articulation of the nganiyo
thus indicates that the significance of divination can not be fully understood if it
would just be considered in the light of its final predictions and their outcome in the
future. Instead, this analysis shows that the divinatory encounter, independent of its
outcome in the future, becomes immediately transformative in (re)shaping and
(re)orienting the subjects intentional situatedness.
Strictly speaking, the interpretation of the gesture of the articulation of
intention at the beginning of the divinatory encounter as an expression of
intentionality does not depend upon the explicit use of a term such as nganiyo. The

24
Locating Nganiyo

intentional dimension is pre- or extra-terminological in the sense that it is already


present in the gesture itself. However, the existence of a specific technical term within
the divinatory terminology to identify this inaugural intentional act gives weight to
the analysis. It shows that the analysis actually parallels and is predated by the
understanding and logic of the divinatory praxis. In this sense, intention and
intentionality are present both implicitly, in the gesture of the articulation of a specific
intention, wish, or issue by the consulter as a prerequisite of the divinatory process,
and explicitly in the concept of nganiyo that is referred to and acted upon by the
diviner and his clients. The validity and pervasiveness of the intentional logic of the
divinatory encounter is also reflected in the fact that it is not limited to a single ethnic
or linguistic context. Wolof speaking diviners, for instance, refer to the same situation
with the term yeene which appears equally to be derived from the Arabic niyya and is
employed in exactly the same way as the Mandinka notion of nganiyo. Divinatory
terminology and its conscious use and understanding by diviners thus moves beyond
the only implicit dimensions of meaning in habitual praxis and represents a conscious
and explicit attempt to give words to the complexities of divinatory experience. In
other words, one could say that the specific use and systematic of the divinatory
terminology does not just present us with ethno-phenomenological notions from
which one could derive an emic model of the understanding of divination but already
formulates in itself the beginnings of a phenomenology of divination that looks
beyond the confines of what Husserl used to call the natural attitude, i.e. moving
beyond the non- or pre-theoretical position in which we normally act and think and
towards a way of thinking that attempts to reflect on the fundaments, insights, and
assumptions that underlie its own implicit logic.

Heart, Self, Mind, and the Person: Geomantic Categories and the Location of
nganiyo

I have argued that the pronunciation of the nganiyo by the consulter is not only an
opening gesture but actually creates the opening up of an immediately performative
divinatory space with very specific phenomenological qualities. Seen as such, the

25
Chapter 1

notion of nganiyo is presented as perhaps the most important and central single clue
to the understanding of Senegambian divinatory praxis in general. The danger of
attributing such an importance to one single notion within an epistemic, ritual, and
discursive praxis that contains a multiplicity of different elements and dimensions lies
of course in constructing a systematicity and coherence that does not exist as such in
the observed praxis itself. Consequently, it should be asked how the notion of nganiyo
relates to the other elements that make up and underly the divinatory praxis, its logic,
terminology, and its further processual unfolding. In how far is this notion present in
the rest of the divinatory process, i. e. apart from being the conceptual basis of the
gesture that opens up the divinatory encounter? In how far can this notion be shown
as underlying the more general logic of the divinatory praxis? More specifically, one
could ask where exactly divination locates the intention, desire, and ambition of the
subject that it seems to be concerned with? Where is it that the nganiyo originates?
The following excerpt will form the basis for the analysis of the location and
origin of the intention of the subject in divinatory praxis. It is taken from a longer
interview/lesson with Bamba Camara, a young Mandinka marabout (mooro) in This.
Bamba Camara had agreed to teach me some of the basics of ramalu, the art of
Islamic geomancy, a widespread and highly complex divinatory method that, in 2003,
he had been studying since more than ten years, first under the auspices of his father
and then by himself, through reading, discussing certain points with other marabouts,
and, most importantly, through his own practice. He had shown me how to derive the
houses (Ar. buyuut) or doors (bungdaal) from the random divinatory patterns that
have to be drawn at the beginning of every ramalu session. Sitting in front of a sheet
of paper that by now was covered with dotted lines on the top half and the sixteen
divinatory houses at the bottom, both separated from each other by the name of the
Prophet Mohamed written in Arabic script, I asked him where he would start to talk to
his client? With which sign would he begin? What would he say?

Before turning to the excerpt where Camara refers to the process of identifying the
nganiyo of the client, it is useful to note how the geomantic technique generally
works.

26
Locating Nganiyo

Illustration 1.1: Bamba Camara, This, Senegal.

27
Chapter 1

Ramalu: Introducing Islamic Geomancy

Islamic geomancy or ramalu, as this form of divination is called in Mandinka, is a


wide spread form of divination in Islamic sub-Saharan Africa. Islamic geomancy is a
technique that can be traced back to the beginnings of Islamic civilisation in the
seventh century. Even beyond the boundaries of Islamic Africa, it seems to have
inspired and influenced divinatory traditions in many regions that came in contact
with but not necessarily fully embraced Islamic religion or culture as a whole (cf.
Brenner for a discussion of this aspect with reference to the existing literature on
various traditions, and van Binsbergen 1995 & 1996 for the relation between Islamic
geomancy and four-tablet divination in South Africa). Overall, this specific divinatory
technique seems to have adapted well to local circumstances and requirements (cf.
Brenner 2000, Kassibo 1992). Due to its remarkable geographical expansion, and
probably because of the intellectual appeal of its formal and cultural complexity,
Islamic geomancy is arguably one of the forms of divination that has received most
attention from researchers, especially if one includes the derivated and integrated
forms such as sikidy and Ifa that feature prominently in the ethnography of divination
in Madagascar, Nigeria, Togo, and Benin (for Senegal and Mali cf. Kassibo 1992,
Sow 2001, Eglash 1997; for West Africans marabouts in Paris cf. Kuczynski 2002;
for sikidy cf. eg. Vrin & Rajaonarimanana 1991 with further references; for Ifa and
related forms cf. Trautmann 1939, Bascom 1969 & 1980, Abimbola 1976 & 1977, de
Surgy 1981). Next to questions of historical development, distribution, and local
adaptation, these studies have focused on the interpretative catalogue and literary
corpus upon which these divinatory traditions draw (Trautmann 1939, Bascom 1969
& 1980, Abimbola 1976 & 1977), its methodology and symbolism (Sow 2001), or the
formal and/or mathematical properties of the geomantic system (Jaulin 1957 & 1966,
Eglash 1997).

The Mandinka term ramalu is derived from the Arabic darb ar-raml, or khatt ar-raml,
the beating or writing of the sand, denominations echoing the fact that these
techniques were originally executed on a surface of sand, a material basis that most
marabouts today replace with writing paper on which they work witt a filt or ball pen.

28
Locating Nganiyo

Illustration 1.2: Example of a geomantic calculation made by Bamba Camara, This,


July 2003. Note that Bamba Camara wrote the name with the letters in isolated positions:
mim-ha-mim-dal. This is an unusual but accepted way of proceeding. Most diviners,
however, prefer to write the name in the normal, connected way linking the different
letters up in the way that is typical for Arabic writing.

29
Chapter 1

However, some diviners still use a sand surface to work on and it is due to this
original material basis that this form of divination, and its European and African
derivatives, are refered to as geomancy in Western historiography and anthropology.
The technique itself consists in the drawing of sixteen random lines of little stripes or
dots from which the diviner then derives distinct divinatory geomantic patterns, or
signs (tamansee) to be interpreted.
The preparation of the drawing usually starts with the writing of the formula
bismi-llah ar-rahman ar-rahim (in the name of God the Merciful and Compassionate)
on top of the sheet of paper used for the execution of the divinatory drawings and
calculations. This formula should according to (Arabic-) Islamic convention should
start any written or oral presentation. Again in Arabic script, the diviner writes the
name and surname of his client, sometimes accompanied by the fame of his father,
mother, or both. Further down the page, the diviner then writes the name of the
prophet Mohamed in Arabic letters (mim, ha, mim, dal) and it is above these four
letters that the 16 random lines are drawn from right to left, forming four clusters of
lines, each containing four single lines. Yafay Man, one of the four geomantic
specialists that I worked with, referred to this line of writing, that seperates the upper
from the lower half of a geomantic sheet, as Muhammad kungo, head of Mohammed.
He pointed out that the writing of the name Mohamed in Arabic script resembles a
person lying on his back. The fist mim forming the head, and the following ha, mim,
and dal, forming his chest, stomach, and feet, almost as if the geomantic signs are
emanating directly from the figure of the (sleeping or dreaming?) Prophet.
Responding to my question why he would write the name Muhammed at the
beginning of the session, Yafay Man explained:

Ate le mu Nabiyomoo foloo ti, ate le mu Nabiyomoo labango le ti. Puru nying kama
la, wo horomoo kang, puru Allah si i deemaa, i be kuma kango meng fola, fo baraka
se ka jee, wo le yaa tinna, wo daliloo le yaa tinna, ka a safee.

He is the first messenger and the last messenger. For his honour, that God may help
you, that the word that you will say may be a good word, its because of that, for that
reason, that one writes it [i. e. the name of the Prophet].

30
Locating Nganiyo

Here the writing of the name of the Muhammad is not symbolic simply in the sense of
representation. It is perceived by the diviner as a possibility to safeguard the quality of
his pronouncements, thereby reflecting the ethical obligation of the diviner towards
his client to say what is true and right (fo baraka). Ultimately, the diviners concern is
thus not about the question whether the figure of the Prophet can be seen as
symbolizing the source of the signs of ramalu, or whether the Prophet is the source of
the geomantic signs (although symbolically the drawing seems to indicate this). In
other words, the writing of the name Muhamad is not understood or used as a
legitimisation of the practice of geomantic consultation. Rather, it forces and allows
the diviner to submit and inscribe himself into the same moral tradition of
righteousnes and integrity towards the other that many Muslims consider to be one of
the main characteristics and qualities of the Prophet.
After having drawn out all sixteen lines, the diviner derives from these lines
the signs that will occupy the first four doors orhouses of the geomantic lay-out.
This happens by ticking off, from bottom to top, the dots or stripes of each line in
pairs until either one single pair or a single dot or stripe is left. This is done for all
sixteen lines. The dots or pairs of dots that remain after this procedure are then
transferred underneath the name of the prophet Mohamed that divides the geomantic
sheet in two halves. Here, the dots or stripes will result into four geomantic signs (1-
4), corresponding to the four different clusters of lines above, each sign being
composed of four elements, i. e. four of the single dots or pairs of dots that have been
derived from the ticking off of the lines on the top half of the sheet. From these four
signs another group of four is derived by adding up the different elements of each sign
horizontally, two single dots making a new pair, a single dot plus a pair resulting in
another single dot (4-8). The next four signs are derived in the same way by
combining the first, the second, the third and the fourth two of the first eight signs
(1+2=9; 3+4=10., 5+6=11; 7+8=12). The 13th and the 14th door are derived from
the combination of the 9th and the 10th and the 11th and the 12th, respectively. The
15th from the combination of the 13th and the 14th. The 16th and last one from

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Chapter 1

combining number 15 and number one. The result of these operations is a geomantic
lay-out consisting of 16 signs, each of which has distinct divinatory connotations.8
It is crucial for the understanding of geomancy as divinatory technique to
note that the divinatory connotations of the 16 signs that can appear in a geomantic
lay-out are not fixed, i.e. not independent from the position in which they appear.
They are dependent upon the meaning context of the door orhouse in which they
are found at the end of the geomantic calculation. The derived signs are not
interpreted linearily or in isolation from each other but within the grid of houses/doors
and their distinct connotations. The remarkable complexity of geomantic divination
rests mainly upon this feature. One could say that, in a way, the lower, empty half of
the page where the signs are written down is not empty but pre-structured by a system
of 16 slots, the so called, doors (bungdaal in Mandinka), or houses (buyut in
Arabic), which again possess distinct divinatory connotations. What the diviner does
when he derives the divinatory signs by the above described procedure is filling up
these unoccupied but meaningful positions with specific signs whose connotations are
not fixed but dependent upon the position in which they occur. In other words, the
geomantic lay-out is constructed in two dimensions: First, a system of sixteen doors
or houses each of which is associated with a specific region of meaning (person,
wealth, health etc.) and second, 16 signs which each carry a specific name and
divinatory connotations. Most of these refer to certain prophetic figures of the
(Abrahamitic-) Islamic tradition (Yousuf, Ayuba, Mousa, etc). The difficulty for the
observer consists in the fact that each of the houses is already associated with a
specific sign/figure, and at least partly reflects the signs connotations. Moreover,
during sessions, the houses are often referred to with the personified name of the sign
rather than with its more abstract, categorial name.
This two-dimensional structure of the geomantic system is represented in the
following table that was written and drawn by Bamba Camara. The table shows all
sixteen signs, each of which, for the sake of convenience, is numbered at its bottom.
The Arabic name of the sign is written on top of it; underneath, also in Arabic, is

8
The basic procedure of deriving the geomantic signs has been described in the same way
by Jaulin 1957, Eglash 1997, Brenner 2000, and Sow 2001.

32
Locating Nganiyo

written the name of the house. All signs are arranged in the order of the houses with
which they are normally associated with.

Illustration 1.3: Instructive table giving the names of doors and houses (Bamba
Camara, This, July 2003).

Transcribed and translated the table reads as follows: The first two columns giving the
transcription of the Arabic designations of the different signs and houses in Latin
letters, the third column a translation of the names of the houses. The fourth column
gives the Mandinka equivalents of the Arabic terms that Bamba Camara mentioned
orally but which he did not include in the above table. The fifth column gives the
translation of the Mandinka terms. The additions in square brackets give variations in
the Arabic designation of the different Houses and Mandinka equivalents there where
equivalents where not mentioned in Bamba Camaras account. They stem from a

33
Chapter 1

similar table and corresponding explanations by Yafay Man, Medina Souane,


January/February 2004.

The Geomantic Signs and their Houses:

Name of Sign Houses (Arabic) Translation Doors (Mandinka) Translation


1 Yusufu Beit an-Nafs House of the Self Sondomoo Bundaa Door of the Heart
2 Adamu Beit al-Mal House of Property Naafuul Bundaa/ Door of Wealth/
[Harjee Bundaa] [Door of Chance]
3 Muhamadu Beit al-Abai House of Fathers Faalaa Bundaa Door of Paternal
Al-Mahdi Relatives
4 Idris Beit Ikhwa House of Brothers Faading Bundaa/ Door of
(Paternal)
Brothers
5 Ibrahim Beit Banin House of Sons/ Dingo Bundaa Door of the Son
Descendants
6 Isa Beit Marid House of the Ill Jankaroo Bundaa/ Door of Illness/
[Kuurango Bungo] [Room of Illness]
7 Umr Beit Nikah House of Marriage Futu Bundaa/ Door of Marriage
[Futuwo Bundaa]
8 Ayub Beit Qubur/ House of Graves/ [Kabuuru Bungo] [Room of
Beit al-Maut House of Death Saayaa Bundaa Graves]
Door of Death
9 Allahu Taala Beit Safr/ House of Travel/ Taamoo Bundaa/ Door of Travel/
[Beit at-Tariq] House of the Path [Taama Siloo [Room of the
Bungo] Path of Travel]
10 Suleiman Beit Sultan/ House of the Sultan/ Mansa Bundaa/ Door of the King/
Beit al-Muluk House of Kingship/ [Mansayaa Bungo] [Room of
Sovereignty Kingship]
11 Ali Beit Rajai House of Hope Jikoo Bundaa Door of Hope
12 Nuhi Beit Adu House of Enemies Jawoo Bundaa Door of the
Enemy
13 Yunus Beit Majalis House of Places Siidulaa Bundaa Door of the Place
14 Hassan wa Beit Masul House of the Nyiningkaroo Door of the
al-Hussein Demander Bundaa Question
15 Uthman Beit Quadi/ House of the Judge/ Kiitii Bundaa Door of Judging
Beit Hukm House of Judgement
16 Musa Beit Aquibatu House of Outcome/ Labang Bundaa The Last Door
Result

34
Locating Nganiyo

While each of the different geomantic signs is thus conventionally associated with a
specific door within the geomantic lay-out, in an actual consultation signs appear in
different houses due to the random procedure explained before. As each sign can
appear in any of the sixteen houses, and as the meaning of a specific sign changes
depending upon the position in which it appears, the geomantic system provides for a
high degree of variation and flexiblity. The number of possible lay-outs depends upon
the first four signs which are generated from the random lines of dots, drawn at the
beginning of each session. As such, the geomantic procedure first combines a first
sign out of sixteen with another set of sixteen (16), and repeats this a third (16) and a
fourth time (16 multiplied by 16), arriving at a total of 65 536 possible lay-outs (cf.
Jaulin 1957: 44-46).
Even if we look at each door-sign combination separately rather than
contextualized by a complete lay-out, we find 256 different possible combinations.
Ramalu, Bamba Camara pointed out to me during our lessons is an extensive
knowledge (ramaloo londoo fanuta le), the study of which continues throughout a
diviners life and basically never ends. In order to get a better idea of the nature of
these proceedings, it is, however, interesting to note an example of how signs and
houses interrelate in an actual consultation.
In the geomantic sheet that is reproduced above (cf. Table 1) as a general
example of how such sheets can look like, one finds, for instance that Nuh (Noah)
stands (be looring) in the House of the Self which is normally, i. e. with the system
being at rest, associated with the sign of Yusuf (cf. table 3). This was interpreted by
Bamba Camara as a sign that the client had faced difficulties in her first marriage or
engagement. A fact that he was aware of from her first consultation the day before but
that he found confirmed by the sign of Nuh, that, in geomancy, is generally associated
with enmity and adversality, pointing to the fact that her central concern had been
affected by the malintentions of others, probably her own parents and relatives. This
situation was evaluated by Bamba Camara in combination with the significance of the
constellation in the second position, Hassan wa Hussein standing in the House of
Chance or Wealth (beit al-mal), indicating ambivalence or being of two minds, the
urge to move elsewhere, or the loss of valuables. The sign of Yusuf in the House of
Marriage (beit an-nikah), indicated that the client had been dreaming about someone

35
Chapter 1

for a long time. The sign of Idrisa in the House of Hope was perceived by Camara as
pointing to the realization of her hopes in the near-by future. This was indicated not
only by the conventional meaning of the prophetic figure but also by its consisting out
of seven points, which meant that the affair at stake had already started to realize
itself in the present. The sign of Hassan wa Hussein in the House of Wealth also
indicated that for safeguarding her chance she should distribute two chicken of the
same weight as sadaa (or sarax in Wolof), a ritual offering, charity, or sacrifice, that
is considered to be the most important ritual means to influence the development of
ones personal affairs and situation. Besides the two chickens, Camara explained
during the consultation, another sadaa of six meters of cloth or two meter of black
cloth were suggested by the combination in the first position. A day after the
consultation Camara explained to me that there were further details that had been
revealed but that he had been hesitant to address them during the session in order not
to upset his client. At a certain place in the geomantic lay-out her virginity (viergo)
had appeared and by the means of another, additional combination of signs, outside
the 16 doors that form the basic geomantic lay-out, he had seen that she knew,
meaning that she had already had experience with men despite the fact that she was
not yet married. As her first marriage had been resisted by her family, it appeared
likely that she probably had intercourse with her potential partner before the
conclusion of the marriage contract. Circumstances, however, that he had not wanted
to address in order not to embarass or upset his client unneccesarily. What she had
told me the day before, right after the session and without Camara being present,
confirmed these interpretations. There had not only been a sexual relationship
between her and her friend (something that she of course did not mention as such) but
her relationship had resulted in a pregnancy and the birth of a little boy who by the
time of her visit with Bamba Camara (July 2003) had already reached two years of
age.
Divination by geomancy shows itself here as a complex process of
interpretation in which the different signs are not read neither stereotypically or in an
isolated manner but as interrelated within the distinct lay-out of a specific
consultation. Beyond the interpretation of the meaning of the different signs in terms
of their conventional divinatory connotations and their appearance and association

36
Locating Nganiyo

with the different Doors or Houses of the geomantic system, signs can be
associated with a male or female persons, the different physical elements, or with
different times (past, future, and present).
What distinguished Bamba Camaras actual way of presenting his findings to
his client from other geomantic consultations that I witnessed was the often explicit
reference to the signification of the different signs and doors of ramalu. Something
that allows the client to get a glimpse of the multiple elements appearing in the
geomantic lay-out. However, this very open and explicit way of presenting the results
of a geomantic consultation seemsto be the exception rather than the rule. In most of
the cases I witnessed, divinatory pronouncements only rarely referred to the
constitutive elements of the geomantic proceedings. Instead, results were presented in
a much briefer and more closed way. The primary reason for this is that these details
are considered of no importance for the client. The latter is thought to be primarily
interested in clear, unequivocal statements and ritual prescriptions. This
straightforward way of presentation shortcuts much of the symbolic tissue that could
otherwise furnish the discursive space of the divinatory encounter. On the other hand,
due to this lack of explicit symbolism in divinatory speech, the message becomes
clearer for the client. It also forces the analysis of the divinatory praxis to abandon its
focus on symbol and metaphor and to move to the consideration of other, different but
equally fundamental properties and dimensions of the divinatory encounter. One of
these dimensions concerns the significance of the articulation and locating of the
nganiyo at the beginning of the divinatory encounter.

Example 1.1: Bamba Camara, This, Senegal, July 2003. (The original Mandinka
appearing in the left column).

Saaying dung, i yaa long ramalu, Now, thus, you know, ramalu,
silool le be ala a siyaata. its ways are many.
Kuwool fanang be jee le iye meng long There are issues, too, where you know,
janni i be kuma-wo-kuma fola, before saying anything,
i anta jee jubeela le, you have to look there.
fo i yaa long, You have to know,

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Chapter 1

moo meng naata the person that has come,


mune be a sondomoo to. what is in their heart.
Kon, foloo-foloo, First, thus,
siloo fanang be jee le, there is a way
iye meng long, ning, of which you know,
iye woo juubee, ning, if you look at it,
iye wolu compos if you compose it,
wo kaa yitandi, it will show you,
iye le ko you will say,
ing, de a naata mune la, this [person], why s/he has come,
mune mu a hamee kuwo ti. what is the issue of her/his ambition.
(...) (...)

Dool be jee si naa, There are those that when they come,
taa fola, they dont tell you [their reason for
consultation],
iye fo dung, thus, you tell,
ala probleemoo mu mung ti, what is their problem,
a taa fola. they dont tell you.
Wo ka naa le a saa fo iye a jubee ne, He comes and says regard me [i.e. divine
for me].
Yaa long wo siifaa nak You know, this kind [of people],
i taa noola i yaa ininkaa. you cannot ask them.
Sinon a baa fola nte lafita le Sinon, he will tell you I want you to
iye kuwool juubee. regard [my] affairs.
Ite maa long, [But] You dont know,
cest inconnu. cest inconnu.

Nte ye meng noo wo le mu rek, What I can do is just,


ngaa juubee silool, I regard the paths,
bungdaal be jee there are doors
nka mennu compos that I compose
puru [pour] ka long ing in order to know, this [person],
au fond au fond,
mune yaa batandi. what has tired him,
Aye niitooroo, ala niitooroo be looring His niitooroo, what is his niitooroo9
mune to? standing on?
Nsi woo fanang jubee, I can regard that as well,

9
Literally, the injury of the soul. The term will be analysed more closely.

38
Locating Nganiyo

n saa jee, I see,


ing This [person],
de a la niitooroo be looring ing ne to. his niitooroo is standing on this.

Bamba Camaras explanations were highly instructive. As a matter of fact, at


that stage of my research, to me, they were pathbreaking in so far as he seemed to
touch upon fundamental notions that until then I had often only been guessing at. And
this although, at first, our relation had not been easy. I had been directed to him by a
friend and informant of mine who, by the usual rules of hierarchy that structure social
relationships among Mandinka-speakers from the outset, as well as by biological age,
was to be considered his elder. Due to this hierarchical relationship between Bamba
Camara and this friend, he felt obliged to work with me but resented the fact that he
was not in full control of the situation. At the same time, he himself would have
considered his relationship with our contact person not only as a hierarchical one but
also as one of mutual respect and, possibly, as one of friendship. Otherwise I guess it
would have been impossible to work together. Fortunately, the situation worked.
Sitting together in the small room at the entrance of the family compound where he
receives his clients, his voice would fill with passion for his own work, and he would
present me with a fast-flowing stream of explanations on the fundamentals of
geomantic divination. In order to appreciate his explanations fully one should keep
several things in mind.
First, the most urgent questions of the ethnographer are most regularly not
those that are most urgent for his informants. A situation that is symptomatic for
much of the ambivalence of the anthropological project of searching for meaning
there where other people are mainly concerned with making it from day to day with
little or no financial resources but nevertheless enmeshed in a dense net of necessities
and demands.10 Second, in most cases the explanations that are offered focus
exclusively on describing the mechanics of the different divinatory methods that are
employed. For most diviners there seems to be no meta-level to their work, no

10
Or to paraphrase Artaud: anthropology always entails the danger of artificially directing
thoughts towards culture where the only concern is hunger (Artaud 1964).

39
Chapter 1

ethnotheory on divination.What they know is predominantly what they do and vice


versa. This is mainly due to the fact that the different forms of divination are above all
seen, learned, and employed as instrumental techniques rather than as procedures that
require any specific theoretical knowledge behind or beyond the knowledge of the
rules and mechanics that govern the divinatory procedures. What you have to know
for divining is how it works, the technology of it. How to draw the divinatory patterns
in ramalu and how to read them. How to throw the cowrie-shells and how to interpret
their positions. What verses to speak before attempting listikaroo or how to count the
beads of a chaplet (tasabayoo) in order to find the right passages in the Koranic text.
Effective divination, in other words, does not necessitate further ideas or
conceptualizations about why these methods work, what particular terms really
mean, or why certain things have to be done in one way, and not another. For
effective divination, correct execution of the typical action pattern suffices. In
contrast, Bamba Camaras explanation did apparently contain a more theoretical
dimension resulting, on the one hand, from his own very conscious study of
geomancy and, on the other hand, from his many years of study of the key works of
the Islamic tradition reaching from Quran, Hadith, and Sunna, to the wide field of
Islamic thought and commentary.
In the first paragraph of the excerpt cited above Camara refers to the
necessity to find out, through divinatory procedure, what is in the heart (mune be a
sondomoo to) of the person that comes for consultation. In the second paragraph he
further explains the situation in which he finds himself when divining, stating that
most of his clients would not tell him why they have come so that it is he himself who
has to find out the persons reason for consulting him. In the third paragraph, Camara
adds a new dimension to his explanations by characterizing and identifying the
general nature of what pushes people to seek recourse in divinatory consultation as
that what has tired a person (mune yaa batandi) or, more concisely, as niitooroo, a
term that generally refers to feelings of sadness, sorrow, grief or distress (cf. e.g. W.
E. C. 1991 [1989]: 239). As a compound noun, however, it links the word niiyo, soul,
and tooroo, wounding, which stems from ka toora, to injure or to wound, both
physically and emotionally. According to this compound nature, niitooroo could thus

40
Locating Nganiyo

be translated more literally (and more dramatically) as soul-injury or wounded


soul.
At first sight, it is not so surprising to assume sadness, distress, or some kind
of affliction as marking the condition of someone who seeks divinatory consultation.
Especially not if the heart (sondomoo) is considered the bearer or origin of what
pushes the client towards the diviner. But doesnt this description of the clients
condition contrast sharply with the insistence by most diviners on the centrality of the
clients intention (nganiyo)? Isnt there a certain contradiction, if, on the one hand, the
subject is considered as a consciously intending individual, connotating volition, self-
reflexivity, and autonomy, and if he is on the other hand seen as afflicted, connotating
a more passive condition of suffering and pain? What this characterization of the
clients condition conveys is, in my opinion, a deep sensing of the nature of intention,
desire, and the general predicament of the subject. Rather than being contradictive in
itself, the signifying chain of heart (sondomoo), mind (hakiloo), intention (nganiyo),
need (hajoo), and affliction (niitooroo) seems to insist upon an intrinsic link between
niitooroo and nganiyo, between the subjects affliction and his intention. This
becomes clearer if we look in more detail at how these different notions are related to
each other in the geomantic system.
In Arabic, the first House/Door that is derived from the lines that are drawn
above the name of the Prophet on the top half of the page, is called the House of the
Self, beit an-nafs.11 It was this first position in the geomantic table that Camara
alluded to when he refered to a place in the ramalu where you have to look first. In
Mandinka two terms are used synonymously: moo la bungdaa and sondomoo la
bungdaa, Door of the Person and Door of the Heart. In Arabic-Islamic theory nafs
is conceived of as one of three components that make up the non-material reality or
being of the human person: Nafs, aql, and ruh. Nafs, which is usually translated as
the self of the person, is the locus and origin of human drives, self-interest,
emotions, etc. Aql instead designates the faculty of reason; it is the locus of mind,

11
For more general descriptions of the formal, mathematic, technical and symbolical
aspects of the functioning of Islamic geomancy cf. also Jaulin 1957, Eglash 1997, Brenner
2000, Kassibo 1992 and Sow 2001.

41
Chapter 1

cognition, rationality, and ethics, and seen in opposition to the nafs. In Arabic-Islamic
thought, it is this opposition between nafs and aql that marks the human being.
Especially in Sufism, the persons spiritual life or challenge is often perceived as a
struggle between these two principles. Ruh, third component of this triad of
consciousness, is commonly translated as soul, the entity that leaves the body at
night when the person is dreaming and that survives when the persons physical
existence is terminated by death. What does it mean, then, if in the translation of the
Arabic-Islamic system of geomancy into Mandinka ritual praxis, the House of the
Self becomes the Door of the Heart? Or, more specifically, what could this
semantic shift from nafs/self to heart or person mean in terms of the relation between
nganiyo and niitooroo?
On the one hand, one could think that by replacing the notion of self (nafs)
with the notion of person or heart the resulting Mandinka model simply ignores the
distinctions between self, mind/reason, and soul that are characteristic for Arabic-
Islamic thought. In that case, one could only compare both models as almost
unrelated, as somehow having been separated from each other in the act of translation
from one symbolic/signifying system into another. On the other hand, one could
pursue the idea that the Mandinka notion of the heart is actually synonymous with the
Arabic-Islamic notion of self/nafs, just using a more somatic, body-related idiom
while the Arabic-Islamic notion is perceived as more abstract, more theoretical.12 In
my opinion, there is little real evidence for assuming that the Mandinka system has
seperated itself from the Arabo-Islamic geomantic model. Neither Bamba Camara nor
any of the other specialists whom I worked with expressed ideas in this direction. At
the same time, they were very aware of the different terms that should be employed to
speak about the geomantic system depending upon the language one uses. While
speaking about geomancy nafs (self) is translated as sondomoo (heart), but this
translational move is not reversable. When using Arabic, a Mandinka diviner would
never use the Arabic term for heart (qalb) to translate or to impose the Mandinka
notion of the heart (sondomoo) back into or upon the Arabic system. In my view, this,

12
An opposition that is not even necessarily present as it could be argued that nafs is
etymologically related to nafas, breath or breathing (cf. Wehr 1980: 984-986), and could
thus also be seen as having its origin in a somatic experience.

42
Locating Nganiyo

together with the fact that Mandinka (and Wolof) diviners perceive of themselves not
as practising a different type of geomancy but as practising the original (Arabo-)
Islamic geomancy in their respective native language, clearly indicates that the
relation between the Arabic and the Mandinka model of geomancy should be
considered as a relation of continuation rather than of separation or disruption. The
question then is, again, how exactly should we understand the synonymous usage of
nafs and heart/person if we perceive this semantic shift as occuring within the internal
logic of geomantic divination rather than as breaking away from it? And why, one
could ask, do we have two terms that can be used in Mandinka to replace the original
Arabic notion of nafs? The crucial point here is probably to keep in mind that
translation rarely works in exact one-to-one linearity but entails a search for
equivalence, an attempt to translate what can never be fully translated. Translation,
then, is a coming-nearer, an Annherung or approchement, not a full identical
replacement. Seen as a movement of coming-nearer to something that is perceived as
the original meaning, it could be argued that the Mandinka model translates the notion
of nafs from two directions simultaneously. First, from the inside or core of the
self/nafs, i.e. the heart (sondomoo) as the locus of emotion, drive, volition, desire, etc.
And second, from the outside, i. e. as the person (moo) who comes for divinatory
consultation. Nafs, thus, contains a double dimension that is correctly captured in the
Mandinka translation: The person that is present in the divinatory encounter as nafs
(self) is the person (moo) but not as actor or neutral consulter but in his full subjective
presence, as bearer of emotions, afflictions, desires and hopes, all of which can be
(symbolically) located in the heart (sondomoo).
How does this relate to the analysis of the notion of nganiyo and the
significance of the concept of intentionality for the understanding of Senegambian
divinatory praxis in general? What can we learn from these terminological details
about the understanding of intentionality and desire that is implicit in Mandinka
divinatory praxis? According to Bamba Camara and other diviners, to locate the
nganiyo of the consulter, to find out his intention/desire, is the first, most difficult,
and unavoidable task of the diviner. The place where this intention can be localized is
in the first door or house of the geomantic system, i.e. the Door of the Heart
(sondomoo bundaa)the Door of the Person (moo la bundaa) as self (nafs). In this

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Chapter 1

sense, intention is grounded in the heart, the most intimate and, as we will see, at the
same time the most open dimension of the subject. Against cognitivist or rationalist
assumptions, the geomantic system insists that the person thinks with his heart (moo
ye miiroo ning a sondomoo). Consequently, when I asked Bamba Camara explicitly
what he meant by the word heart he replied, the mind is the heart (hakiloo wo le
mu sondomoo ti). But would this equation of mind and heart not be in contradiction to
the opposition between nafs and aql, self and mind/reason, in Arabic-Islamic
thought?
At this point, it is crucial to realize that geomancy as praxis is not bound to
extra-ritual, conventional conceptualizations. Rather, it gains its coherence through its
own internal, practical logic. In such a perspective, one could argue that Camaras
statement the mind is the heart is not contradictive but actually reveals a
radicalization of the conventional (and in this form perhaps over-simplified) Arabic-
Islamic view of the human being as primarily a bearer of reason that is only then
hampered by drives and emotions.13 In geomancy, and in Senegambian divination in
general, this conventional relation between self and mind, nafs and aql, sondomoo
and hakiloo, seems to be reversed. At least as long as the person is subjecting
him/herself to divinatory consultation, s/he is not considered as primarily governed by
reason but is first and foremost considered in his/her relation to his/her intention
(nganiyo) and heart (sondomoo). One could say that here the intentional, emotive, and
desiring dimension is not seen as a secondary or even negative side of the human
being but is actually that what makes a person. At this stage it becomes also clear why
Francophone Mandinka speakers translate nganiyo sometimes as intention
(lintention) and sometimes as desire (desire). While in European languages the term
intention may have acquired a more cognitive connotation and desire may be seen
as related to the emotive, the notion of nganiyo that underlies the logic of divinatory
praxis seems to entail both dimensions without the necessity of further dissection.

13
Cf. for instance Werbner (2003, ch. 9) for an account of a much more complex notion of
nafs and the corresponding conceptualizations of the human self among members of the
Naqshbandi Sufi brotherhood in Pakistan.

44
Locating Nganiyo

Niitooroo and the Origin of nganiyo

So far I have analysed the relations between the notions of sondomoo (heart), hakiloo
(mind/reason), and nganiyo (intention/desire). What has somehow stayed out of sight
is the relation between the subjects intention (nganiyo) and what Bamba Camara
called niitooroo, the soul-injury. While the heart/mind is seen as the bearer of the
subjects intention/desire (nganiyo), in the third paragraph of the above excerpt
Bamba Camara points out that the specific condition of the heart/mind that gives rise
to the individuals intention is always a condition of niitooroo, i. e. sadness, sorrow,
grief, affliction, and that it is this condition that he has to come to know and to
understand through a further consideration of the geomantic lay-out. Not mentioned
in the excerpt is how exactly the substance of what makes out the niitooroo of the
individual consulter in a specific case can be identified. Bamba Camara did, however,
explain this point at a later stage of our lessons:

Example1.2: Bamba Camara, This, Senegal, July 2003.

Saaying, Now,
nko le ning a yaa tara moo naata bii, I say that if it happens that a person
comes today,
puru yaa long mune be ate sondomoo to, in order to know what is in his heart,
mune be a fango coeroo to [from the what is in his very heart,
French coeur],
puru yaa long manaam mune yaa tooraa, in order to know what has wounded him,
nko iye, I said to you,
i be foloo la ning seyoo le kafula. you have to start with adding the eight [i.
e. the eighth house or door of the
geomantic lay-out].

According to Bamba Camara, that what has wounded the person (mune yaa tooraa),
i.e. the niitooroo upon which the persons intention seems to rest, can be identified by
combining the first and the eighth house or door of the geomantic lay-out, i. e. Yusuf
and Ayuba, the Door of the Heart or Person (sondomoo or moo la bundaa) and the
Door of Death (Sayaa bundaa). What does this point to?

45
Chapter 1

In the same way as the notion of the heart (sondomoo) as location of the
subjects intention/desire (nganiyo) indicated a non-rationalistic understanding of
intentionality and the subject, the relating of the Door of the Heart/Person with the
Door of Death as revealing the niitooroo of the person, points, in my view, to an
understanding of the individual cultural subjects condition and predicament that
emphasizes the existential and emotive over the cognitive dimensions of human
existence. In emphasizing the relatedness of intention/desire (nganiyo), death (sayaa),
and affliction (niitooroo), the geomantic logic seems to reveal something fundamental
about the condition of the human subject in general, something that goes beyond the
confines of the divinatory encounter. The idea that the intention of the subject who
takes recourse in divination is fundamentally, au fond as Bamba Camara said, rooted
in a condition of affliction, indicates that niitooroo, rather than only designating an
accidental and passing psychological state, refers to a fundamental human condition
or, in Heideggers terms, an existential of Dasein, i.e. a modality of being that
characterizes the being-in-the-world of the individual subject.
As a condition referred to in divinatory discourse for describing the situation
of the client, niitooroo is, however, at the same time necessarily specific and concrete,
in the same way as the nganiyo of the person is, as I have argued above, never only an
empty act of consciousness, a pure vector without content, but always already defined
by its noematic correlate, the hajoo of the person, the issue at hand. But still, and in
the same way as the notion of nganiyo and its employment in divinatory praxis seems
to contain a fundamental insight into the relation between subjective intention and the
self or heart of the person, the notion of niitooroo seems to contain an insight into
the relation of nganiyo as intentionality/desire and the experience of affliction or loss
as a human condition, almost as if resonating with ideas such as Hegels description
of self-consciousness as emerging out of and being constituted through desire (Hegel
1988 [1807]: 120-127); the Lacanian notion of desire as rooted in the impossible
attempt to retrieve what has been irretrievably lost; and Zizeks (Lacanian) reflections
on desire as the subjects attempt to recompensate itself in the realm of the Symbolic
for the loss of the immediate, pre-symbolic Real (Zizek 1999: 35). Following this
resonance between geomancy on the one hand and Hegelian-Lacanian-Zizekian
theorizing on subjectivity on the other, couldnt one argue that the idea of nganiyo

46
Locating Nganiyo

(intention/desire) as being based in a specific and concrete condition of affliction


(niitooroo), entails at the same time the idea of niitooroo as the foundation or
prerequisite reason of subjectivity in general?
However, geomantic/divinatory praxis as such is not concerned with abstract
theorizing about subjectivity but is interested in providing advice in and a solution for
the concrete and immediate situations of the person who comes for consultation. And
still, niitooroo does seem to possess exactly this double dimension of being, forming,
on the one hand, a concrete condition of affliction related to a specific personal need
or social conflict, and, on the other hand, representing a much more encompassing,
existential condition that exists prior to consultation. A condition that is neither
necessarily referred to during consultation nor necessarily part of the subjects
conscious motivation/intention but that is still to be considered, according to the logic
of the geomantic system, as its real source. May be this double dimension can be
better understood if we translate and conceive of niitooroo not only as sadness, grief,
or affliction, but, more specifically, as trauma.

Niitooroo as Trauma

Drawing on the Lacanian insight into the three orders that structure all processes of
the human psyche (the Symbolic, the Imaginary, and the Real), Slavoj Zizek has
argued that what is most relevant about trauma in psychoanalytical terms is not the
event as such but the structure that underlies it. Traumatic experience represents, for
Zizek, not only a specific personal psychological situation but the relation between
the Symbolic Order that tries to symbolize, understand, and make meaning out of
reality, and the Order (or better even, the chaos) of the Real that predates and escapes
it. What re-emerges in trauma, or what becomes actually causative in a traumatic
experience in a deferred action is not the overt content of the event but the event as
part of the Real that escapes symbolization. Zizek examplifies this by re-analysing
Freuds famous case of the Wolf Man:

47
Chapter 1

In the case of the Wolf Man (...) the cause, of course, was the traumatic scene of the
parental coitus a tergo - this scene was the non-Symbolizable kernel around which all later
successive Symbolization whirled. This cause, however, not only exerted its efficiency
after a certain time lag; it literally became trauma - that is, cause - through delay: when the
Wolf Man, at age two, witnessed the coitus a tergo, nothing traumatic marked this scene;
the scene acquired traumatic features only in retrospect, with the later development of the
childs infantile sexual theories, when it became impossible to integrate the scene within
the newly emerged horizon of narrativization-historization-symbolization.

(Zizek 1994: 31; cited in: Myers 2003: 26-27)

But does this understanding of trauma fit the notion of niitooroo? Where in the
condition of niitooroo could one identify the moment of conflict between the
Symbolic and the Real?
The difficulty here lies first of all in the fact that, while the condition of
niitooroo is refered to as the condition of the client that has to be understood in order
to develop any further geomantic pronouncements, this condition is not necessarily
explicitly refered to during the divination session itself. Instead, the clients affliction
might only be implicitly present in so far as it is reflected in what the client intends or
desires. In this case the question would be if there is a kind of direct symmetry
between the affliction/trauma and the articulated intention that would allow to identify
the content of this affliction? This could be seen as problematic at least in so far as
intention/desire, according to Lacanian theory, articulates itself in the Order of the
Symbolic and the Imaginary and thereby covers rather than exposes its relatedness to
the Real. Or, in more conventional Freudian parlour, the real cause of the persons
wish would remain invisible because it is repressed. At the same time, however, one
could argue that in this situation it makes even more sense to translate niitooroo as
trauma: The fact that niitooroo is normally not explicitly referred to in the divinatory
encounter indicates that while the real conflict of the subject remains (or must remain)
buried in the subject itself, geomancy is despite (or may be even because of)
niitooros apparent invisibility aware of it as the unconscious source of the subjects
nganiyo, in the same way as psychoanalysis is aware of the unconscious position of
the trauma as the cause of neurosis.

48
Locating Nganiyo

Leaving psychoanalysis aside, one could, however, also argue more


pragmatically, that in so far as niitooroo is a metaphor rather than an explicit
theoretical notion, the adequateness of the translation of niitooroo as trauma does
ultimately not rely on its exact coinciding with trauma as a psychoanalytical notion.
What is more relevant is, in my opinion, that both notions, the niitooroo in divination
and trauma in psychoanalysis, point at the fundamental rootedness of intention, desire
and subjectivity in an experience of loss, split, and afflictionan insight that is most
dramatically reflected in the fact that, as we have seen above, in order to identify the
ground and substance of the subjects affliction the geomantic logic requires to
consider the nganiyo (intention/desire) of the person in combination with the
dimension of death (sayaa).
Additionally, it is interesting to note that both terms, trauma and niitooroo,
literally refer not to inner conditions of the person but to the experience of wounds,
injuries, and physical, bodily pain, and it is only in referring to these fundamental
somatic modes of experience that these terms become meaningful and enable to speak
about the afflictions of the subject in general. In this regard, the notion of trauma in
psychoanalysis is as metaphorical as is the notion of niitooroo in divination.
Consequently, as trauma niitooroo can thus be understood as both, a real condition of
affliction and, at the same time, as a central metaphor to reveal the deep hermeneutic
and existential dimensions of divination as a cultural praxis that is not primarily a
cognitive or epistemological operation but rather a praxis concerned with the
inevitable and intrinsic difficulties and conflicts of human existence.
In this regard, however, it is important to realize that the traumatic condition
of niitooroo is not perceived to be the end. It is not only what has tired the subject
(mune yaa batandi) but it is also what has caused the person to stand up (mune yaa
wulindi).

49
Chapter 1

Metaphors of Uncertainty: Subjunctivity, Intentionality and the Existential


Significance of Divinatory Consultation

In different divinatory traditions, feelings of uncertainty, ambivalence, and insecurity


as a result of the experience of misfortune and affliction have been identified as one
of the main reasons for divinatory consultation (cf. eg. Jackson 1978, Whyte 1997).
By consulting a diviner people aim at coming to know what is at the core of their
predicament, what caused their problem, and how it can be solved. By developing
answers to these questions, divination is perceived as helping people to make choices
and alleviate uncertainty.
Not surprisingly, metaphors of uncertainty also play an important role in
Senegambian divinatory discourse. One of the first positions that I was taught to
recognize in cowrie-shell divination, for instance, consisted in a pair of shells that lie
side by side, pointing into opposite directions, one closed or lying on its belly
(Wlf. dafa dep), and the other one open(Wlf. ubeku). This position, I was told by
Samba Nguer, a Wolof-speaking diviner in the Gambian urban agglomeration of
Serekunda, just south of the Gambian capital Banjul, had many names.14 The
designations that I noted were unrest (jaxle), something unpleasant (nakhar), two
minds or spirits (xel aar) (indicating hesitation), a disputing mind (xel bu
werente), or, simply, zigzag (sikisaka). Samba Nguer would point to where the
shells had fallen into one of these frequently occuring positions, look at the client and
tell her or him that the cowries showed that s/he was of two minds or feeling restless,
demonstrating to his clients that the cowries were showing their situation and that he,
the diviner, was able to read the cowries messages in their various lay-outs. In most
cases, the person would simply nod or make a confirming sound by clicking his/her
tongue. Sometimes, the client would add a little piece of information, alluding to the
issue at the bottom of this feeling, giving the diviner an additional hint about where to
direct his divinatory inquiry next. Zigzag, two minds, and other metaphors of

14
Samba Nguer was the first to introduce me to cowrie-shell divination (petaw). Next to
the many hours of tuition that we spend together he alone made it possible for me to assist
to more than 20 consultations.

50
Locating Nganiyo

uncertainty thus play an important role in Senegambian divinatory discourse both in


describing the clients condition as well as in allowing the diviner to show his
understanding and empathy for the clients situation. But despite the central
importance of these metaphors of uncertainty, the main reason for consultation is, as I
have emphasized above, not seen in uncertainty as such but in the clients intention
or desire (nganiyo).
In my opinion, the parallel existence of these two apparently supplementary
rather than exclusive views of the clients condition and motives indicates an
assumption and conviction about what divination is. This conviction is not only
shared by diviner and client, but also reflected in the implicit logic of the divinatory
systematic and logic that I have tried to bring out: The afflicted subject that turns to
divination in his/her search for a solution, is not just a passive, uninvolved, or
indifferent adressee of the divinatory pronouncements. Rather, with pursuing
divinatory consultation, the client has already moved, or at least started to move, from
a more passive state of uncertainty to a more active way of dealing with her/his
situation. In part, one could say, uncertainty and hesitance seem already to be
alleviated even before the session starts just by the simple fact that consulting a
diviner already necessitates a prior decision by the client. But how exactly can this
transition be grasped in more abstract terms? If divination is seen as a way to alleviate
feelings of uncertainty, how exactly does this happen? What does this transition mean
in terms of the phenomenological properties of the articulation of intention and the
larger divinatory process?
Writing about the situated concern (her emphasis) of the subject in
divination, healing, and medicine among Nyole speakers in Eastern Uganda, Susan
Reynolds Whyte has recently argued that the mood in which cultural ways of dealing
with and reacting to feelings and conditions of uncertainty are situated can best be
grasped by applying the notion of subjunctivity (cf. Whyte 1997: 22-25, and 2002).
Defining the subjunctive first by quoting from a dictionary as that mood of the verb
which represents an attitude toward, or concern with the denoted action or state not as
fact but as something either simply entertained in thought, contingent, possible (...) or
emotionally viewed as a matter of doubt, desire, will, etc., she continues that
subjunctivity can be conceived of not just as a form of language and narratives, but

51
Chapter 1

as an attitude informing peoples responses to affliction (1997: 24). Further on she


writes:

The approach to the study of misfortune in terms of pragmatism, possibility, and hope is a
key to understanding the position and intentions of both healers as well as sufferers. (...)
The emphasis on intentions, hopes, and doubts (...) has the virtue of attending to the
actors situation. We are drawn to the practices of people positioned in the midst of the
desires and difficulties of their actual lives. This is fundamental for a humanistic and
open-ended anthropology. It allows the researcher and reader to experience the sense of
resonance that allows understanding. It opens important questions about intentionality and
fits well the concern of late-twentieth-century anthropology to recognize agency and the
creative self.
(Whyte 1997: 24-25, references omitted)

What is interesting in this statement for the further analysis of the notion of nganiyo is
not just their programmatics (that to a large extent run parallel to the motives for the
subject-oriented approach to divination that I have been pursuing throughout this
paper) but also the fact that, in the praxis of a culturally very different divinatory
tradition, Whyte recognizes the same relatedness of misfortune, uncertainty, affliction
on the one hand, and intentions, hopes, and desires on the other, that are found in the
semantics and praxis of Senegambian divination. This demonstrates, I believe, that
the terminological and semantic properties of Senegambian divination are not only
essential for understanding divination in this specific cultural context but that they
reveal important aspects of divinatory praxis in general. The question that remains,
however, is whether the notion of subjunctivity can actually help to understand the
nature of the link between affliction, uncertainty, and intention/desire, or if it proofs
only analytically effective in so far as it brings the existence of this link more into
focus? Ultimately, this may depend upon the possibility to grasp and define the exact
phenomenological properties of subjunctivity in the linguistic and practical modes of
being-in-the-world that are reflected in divinatory praxis and semantics (an almost
impossible task, I would add). It seems interesting, however, that although the
subjunctive relates to desire, intention, and the expression of wishes, in a simple
French phrase such as Je veux que tu fasse (fasse, from faire= to do; the verb that
here appears in the subjunctive mood), it is not the verb that characterizes the subject

52
Locating Nganiyo

of the main clause that expresses this intentional attitude (je veux...) but the verb
expressing the action that describes the subject of the subordinate clause, i.e. the
adressee or object of our intention (...que tu fasse). Doesnt this mean that on the
linguistic level the subjunctive does not express or evolve out of the subjects
intention but rather projects a veil of uncertainty onto the object of that intention? I
would argue that the divinatory subjunctive is not only a result of the affliction that
relates the subject to the past, but also and more specifically to the endeavour of the
divinatory encounter, the uncertainty that results out of the awareness of the final
unpredictability of the future realization of what is intended, desired, and longed for.
What this seems to indicate is, in other words, that intentionality and subjunctivity can
not be equated as such. One consequently realizes that the notion of subjunctivity
cannot fully describe the nature of the intentional being of the subject in divination. In
an attempt to further specify (but, I think, not opposing) Whytes use of the term
subjunctivity, I would argue that the subjunctive should be understood as the main
modality neither of divination nor of intentionality in general. Instead, subjunctivity
seems to describe and characterize a specific aspect of intentionality that is related to
the intrinsic temporality or time-orientation of the intentional being-in-the-world that
marks the subject in divinatory praxis and beyond.15 A specific prospective

15
The time-relatedness of intentionality, and the fact that different modes of being play
different and specific roles in relation to time, is an idea that has been expressed and
explicated most clearly in Martin Heideggers epochal analysis of the relation of being and
time. In a footnote that seems to be the only place in Sein und Zeit where he refers
explicitly to Husserls notion of intentionaliy, Heidegger states that the intentionality of
consciousness grounds (grndet) in the ecstatic temporality of Dasein (Heidegger 1993
[1927]: 363) and promises to demonstrate this in a following section that, unfortunately,
was never published. However, Sein und Zeit as a whole deals with the question in how far
and in what way temporality characterizes and marks the being-in-the-world (In-der-Welt-
sein) of existence as Dasein. In this sense, one could argue that Sein und Zeit as a whole is
a prologue to the question of the groundedness of intentionalty in the temporality of
human existence. A prologue that shows that intentionality is not per se the most
fundamental dimension of being. Instead, intentional being is in itself the result of the
existential In-sein, In-der-Welt-sein, and Sorge of the subject (a term that Heidegger, for a
number of reasons, prefers to avoid)modes of being that can only be fully understood
when grasped not as static but as embedded in time, and bearing specific modes of

53
Chapter 1

temporality that results out of the fact that what is looked for in (Senegambian)
divination are solutions to problems of the present that have to be solved for and in a
future that can never be predicted or foreseen with absolute certainty. This final
uncertainty is unavoidable and regularly acknowledged by both diviners and their
clients. In requiring the articulation of the nganiyo at the beginning of the
consultation, divination, however, bases itself on the decision making capacity of the
subject. And decisions are decisions of the now and here that must be situated in the
realm of the indicative, contrasting with mere possibility. In requiring decision and
responding to the subjects decidedness, divination, thus, relates to the indicative,
turning the subjunctive of mere possibility that could still be seen as a continuation of
the original state of afflictive uncertainty into real, future possibilities that wait to be
realized with the help of the divinatory inquiry. The subjunctive, thus, rather than
capturing the full divinatory experience, foregrounds and frames the indicative
dimension of divination that wants to be realized through the articulation of the
nganiyo, the gaining of a deeper insight into the probabilities of ones personal
situation, and through the prescription and execution of post-consultational ritual
remedies.
If Senegambian divination can thus be seen as a cultural praxis that
necessitates and asks for the decidedness of the subject in the form of intention
(nganiyo) to deal with the subjunctive nature of life, it becomes also clear why most
diviners insist that although hajoo (as the necessity, issue, or concern of the person)
can be used at the beginning of the session for demanding the person to articulate why
s/he has come, the correct, proper technical divinatory term is nganiyo. This is
because divination in the Senegambian context does not only offer solutions for
personal difficulties but also entails a claim towards the subject in so far as the
consulter is supposed to move out of the passivity of mere hesitance and suffering by
expressing him-or herself, to say what s/he wants and to act. In this sense, divination

temporality. More specifically, Heidegger writes about the importance of Dasein as a


possibility of being (Seinknnen) and temporality as the ontological sense of care or
concernedness (Sorge) (Heidegger 1993 [1927]: 301-333). Being is, thus, perceived by
Heidegger primarily, i.e. firstly, as possibility which is then dealt with in decidedness
(Entschlossenheit).

54
Locating Nganiyo

does not merely reflect the intentional being of the subject (which it also does). More
important for the understanding of the specific performative properties of this praxis,
the structure, discursive elements, and ritual components of the divinatory encounter
also construct and shape the intentionality of the subject in very specific ways. Seen
in such a way, divination comes into view as a specific cultural means to change the
(subjective being-in-the) world through a healing of the self and through the
empowerment of the afflicted.

Conclusion

Rather than attempting to describe and analyze the whole of the divinatory encounter
at once, in this chapter, I have concentrated on the question of the articulation and
location of the intention/desire (nganiyo) of the subject at the beginning of the
divinatory process. This is the first of several elements which I consider to be crucial
for both the working and the experience of the divinatory encounter. In concentrating
on this first phase of the divinatory encounter the scope of this chapter is deliberately
limited. The focus on the notion of nganiyo, however, is, I believe, justified by the
inaugural and founding significance of the articulation of the nganiyo for the
development of the divinatory process in its totality. As I have argued throughout this
chapter, it is from this first moment that Senegambian divination unfolds and starts to
provide a cultural space that allows the cultural subject to articulate, deal with,
develop, and realize his or her own concrete and situated subjective intentional being-
in-the-world. And at the same time, it is from this first decisive moment that
divination starts to reveal itself as an expression of the ecstatic apriori temporality of
the subject as one of the most fundamental aspects of human existence. It is in this
double sense that the notion of divination as intentional space should be understood:
On the one hand as a possibility to approach real (i. e. noematically defined and
specific) intentional situations of longing, uncertainty, desire, or suffering through a
specific cultural praxis and, on the other hand, as a culturally institutionalized
response to the prospective temporal being of the subject. It should be clear by now
that against a conventional conception of intention as a merely cognitive position or

55
Chapter 1

action that originates in the individual as autonomous cogito, both the notion of
nganiyo as well as the (Husserlian) notion of intentionality acquire their
meaningfulness not only through the recognition of the subject as bearer of agency
but equally through the recognition of the subject as being existentially tied into a
concrete (inter)subjectively constituted sociocultural lifeworld. Understood in this
sense, the concept of intentionality allows to grasp the existential significance of
divinatory consultation as a means of relating, as well as an expression of the
subjects being related to the world. Moreover, in responding to the intentional
subjective being of the person divination offers a cultural space that allows and
demands the subject to move from a more passive or waiting situation of suffering or
longing towards an active approaching of his or her own afflictions and expectations.
The formation and articulation of nganiyo at the beginning of the divinatory
encounter comes into view not only as volition but as a gathering and focusing of
expectations and longing that in the pre-consultational situation were marked by
ambivalence, uncertainty and hesitance.

56
Chapter 2
Structure, Content, and Significance of the Divinatory
Enunciation: Divination as Resonance

After the articulation of the nganiyo by the client, the diviner starts to execute his art.
Cowrie shells are cast, geomantic patterns drawn and calculated, prayer beads are
counted, wooden sticks are thrown into bowls of water. After each motion or,
depending upon the technique used in the particular case, at the end of the divinatory
procedures, the diviner pronounces his findings.
When I first witnessed a session of cowrie shell divination I was impressed
by the atmosphere of the event, its sincerity, rhythm, and steady speed. The white
shells fall on the hard surface of a woven plastic mat with a light and characteristic
rustle. Every new cast is throwing a new caleidoscopic image before the eyes. A
second, parallel rhythm is set by the diviners voice, counting some of the shells in
Wolof according to principles unknown to the uninstructed observer. Ben, aar, et,
eent, juroom, juroom-ben... Each count is followed by interpretations, instructions,
sometimes questions, solliciting the clients response to the messages of the cast
shells. The diviner pronounces what he sees, moves on in his interpretation, elaborates
upon specific points, and responds to the reactions of his or her client by recasting the
cowries for further detailing. Every gesture, every word forms yet another element in
the diviners search for the nature and development of the clients predicament. Every
interpretation completes the diviners analysis of his clients situation, indicating the
crucial aspects of the issues at stake and eventually leading to the formulation of the
necessary ritual prescriptions.

For the outside observer several questions arise from such a first witnessing of a
cowrie divination session. Considering the fact that, in Mandinka and Wolof,
divination is literally referred to as an act of viewing, looking at, or looking for
(jubeeroo in Mandinka, seet in Wolof), the first question is: what is there to be seen in
the seeming disorder of the cast shells? What kind of signs or messages appear in the
constellation of the divinatory paraphernalia that allow the diviner to discern the
Chapter 2

concerns of his client? Where does the diviners gaze find its hold? Is there a method
or technical basis to cowrie (and other forms of) divination that can be described,
studied, and may be even learned? Or does the diviners clairvoyant capacity elude an
outward description from the very beginning? Are there actually things to be seen or
can the signs and messages of the cast shells only be perceived in an altered state of
mind?

Kuuringo/Petaw: Introducing Senegambian Cowrie-Shell Divination

Historically, and throughout the African continent, cowries (kuuringo in Mandinka,


petaw in Wolof) have been significant objects in ritual as well as trade. While their
significance as means of payment has ceased throughout the African continent with
the introduction of ordinary coins and bills during the colonial era, their ritual
significance persists in fields such as divination and the making of protective amulets
against diyamoo (Mand.) or catt (Wolof), i.e. the ill-intended speech of others. 16
Outside the explicitly ritual context, cowries are frequently used in the
production of jewellery (where they still may have ritual connotations next to their
aesthetic appeal) and in tourist art where they function as a powerful token for

16
The material which I present on the art of cowrie-shell divination draws on the
collaboration with four different diviners specializing in this particular technique. The first
to instruct me in this technique was Samba Nguer, a Wolof speaking diviner from inland
Gambia, now based in Serekunda, who made it possible for me to assist at more than
twenty consultations (June to July 2003). The second specialist who instructed me in
cowrie divination was Cherif Keita, a marabout originally from a Suku ethnical
background in Guinea but based in This, Senegal, since several years, and fluent in both
Wolof and, to a lesser extent, in Mandinka (July 2003). The third specialist was Ndeye
Diop, a Wolof speaking diviner, also from This, and the only woman diviner that I had
the chance to work with (January 2004). The fourth specialist was Samba Diallo, a Peul
diviner based in the village of Kokumba in the Middle Casamance region, some fourty
kilometres from Sedhiou, working mostly in Mandinka (the lingua franca of that part of
Senegal), but also in Peul and Diola depending upon the linguistic origin and preference of
his clients (January and February 2004).

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Divination as Resonance

authenticity and Africanness, almost as if, in the realms of tourist art, cowrie shells
reacquire the commercial significance they once had in traditional trade. While their
general ritual significance probably contributed to why cowrie-shells have been
considered adequate instruments for divination, the exact historical origin of cowrie-
shell divination remains, at least to my knowledge, unknown. While the origin of
cowries and cowrie shell divination was never referred to by any of the specialists that
I worked with, several people pointed out to me that the power of this form of
divination was due to the fact that cowrie shells were related to spirits that were
somehow thought of to be attracted to and associated with these objects.
In some cases, the active presence of spirits in cowrie divination is explicitly
reflected in the ritual speech and environment of the divinatory encounter. During
consultation, Cherif Keita, for instance, would often pronounce the names of spirit
entities like jinoo Musa, literally the spirit or jinn Mousa (from Mand. sing. jinoo, pl.
jinool, derived from the Arabic djin). Futhermore, during divination Keitas voice
would often change its pitch. This did not just add yet another element to the
atmosphere of the event but seemed to suggest that during consultation he was
somehow in contact with these spirit entities, listening to them, receiving messages,
and being instructed how to read the patterns of the shells. The impression that the
process of divination did not rely solely on the person of the diviner but also upon
other entities was in his case enhanced by the presence of two small altars or shrines
to his right, consisting of several animal horns covered with a black patina and
encrusted with cowrie shells. Both altars were usually covered with a piece of cloth
and thus invisible for the client. Every now and then, Keita would reach sidewards in
order to touch one of the altars as if trying to establish or reestablish his contact with
the entities he was trying to communicate with.
The link between spirits and cowries did not only show itself in their implied
or claimed presence during consultations, but was also referred to at other occasions.
Bakari Sajo, a middle aged owner of a road side tyre repair shop in Serekunda and
one of my hosts in Gambia, told me, for instance, that one should not handle cowries
too often, and surely not without wanting to use them, as jinn were entities that one
should not play with.

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Illustration 2.1: Cherif Keita, This, Senegal. Demonstrating the use of cowrie shells.

Yet another indication for this link between cowrie divination and spirits can
be found in the ritual preparation of shells to be used for divination. Samba Nguer, the
cowrie-shell diviner who first introduced me to this form of divination, explained that
shells could be prepared by letting them soak overnight, either in goat milk or in the
juice of a red cola nut chewn into pieces because both goats and cola nuts were
associated with the realm of jinn and would thus enhance the power of the shells.17

17
In the preparation of the set of cowries that I received at the end of my lessons so that I
could continue to practice in the future, Samba Nguer had pragmatically combined both
modalities: The shells had been soaked overnight in both goat milk and the juice of a red
cola nut (cf. Illustration 2.2). There are also other ways to provide for the effective
preparation of a set of cowrie-shells, unrelated to the realm of spirit entities. One
alternative way of preperation was explained to me by a friend in Dakar. Before using the
shells, and before starting to practice cowrie-shell divination, they should be deposited in a

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Divination as Resonance

Illustration 2.2: The set of cowrie shells Samba Nguer gave me at the end of my
apprenticeship, soaked in Kola juice and goat milk.

The exact reasons for these associations of spirits with cowries, goats, and cola nuts
are difficult to discern. In the case of goats I was told they were associated with jinn
because goats freely roam around in the forest savanna that surrounds settlements and
villages in this part of the world and in which jinn are thought to be especially
numerous. In the case of cola nuts, no specific explanations were offered except for
the affirmation that jinn, being similar to humans in their desire for certain objects and
substances, are attracted to these objects as they like their consumption. On a more
pre-semantic, symbolic level, however, other aspects may play a role as well. One of

little pool of sea-water between some rocks. The knowledge contained in the water of the
sea, which exists since times eternal and touches the shores of the whole world, would be
passed to and reactualized in the shells that found their origin in the same environment.
Shells prepared in such a way would serve well. At the same place, and with the same
water, one should wash his face so that ones eyes would be able to see the things the
shells would reveal in the future.

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these aspects concerns, for instance, the link between cola nuts, their consumption,
and sociality.
When breaking a cola nut into halfs with the purpose of eating it, one should
offer pieces of the nut to all persons present before taking any of it in ones mouth.
Eating it alone in the presence of others could result into subsequent misfortune,
misery, and even death. But why is the individual consumption of cola nuts
considered to be dangerous? The reason for this seems to lie in the fact that cola nut
consumption, and consequently also the object of the nut itself, is linked to a complex
and much wider cultural logic of exchange, reciprocity, and sharing, that lies at the
core of the cultural ideology and praxis of sociality that must not and cannot be
ignored by the individual subject engaging in social praxis. Seen from such a
perspective it could be argued that the reason for the ritual significance of cola nuts
lies not in their association with spirit entities (jinool) as such but in their practical
and symbolic relatedness to sociality. In other words, jinn are not only non-human
creatures populating a local imaginary but objectified inversions of sociality,
embodying the negativity of non-social behaviour.
Although far from being exceptional, as the above examples show, explicit
allusions to jinn or other spirits, or a somehow altered state of mind, are not the rule.
Most diviners act and present themselves during consultation in ways that do not
differ markedly from situations outside the divinatory encounter. Their conduct and
demeanour mainly incite the impression of dignity, respectfulness, and balancedness
that is commonly associated with the person of an elder (kebaa) or a religiously
learned person (moro in Mandinka or serigne in Wolof), without explicit indications
of non-human or super-natural forces at play. However, the absence of visible signs or
explicit allusions to spirits in a specific consultational situation does not necessarily
mean that this dimension of divinatory praxis could not play a hidden or secret but
nevertheless important role in the consultational event. Given the relative wide
distribution of stories relating maraboutic and divinatory activities to the realm of
spirit entities, it is, for instance, quite possible that a client assumes, almost by
convention, that the diviner is in contact with spirits during the divination procedure
without there being a particular indication of this in the specific consultational
situation. In such a situation, the a priori assumptions of the client concerning the

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Divination as Resonance

powers at play in divination almost inevitably have an impact on the clients specific
experience of the divinatory encounter. In another case, however, it is possible that
while the client feels unconcerned about the kind of agencies intervening in the
divinatory process, the diviner himself may be convinced that his ability to divine
depends upon his relationship to a tutelary spirit that has to be respected and
maintained in specific ways, necessating specific ritual precautions.
Despite the frequent refernces to spirit entities and esoteric initiations in the
context of cowrie (and other forms of) divination, most diviners that I worked with
emphasized that cowrie divination, in the same way as Islamic geomancy, rests upon
a technical basis that can be learned and aquired. Samba Nguer, for instance, told me
at the beginning of our cooperation that due to his instructions I would be able, at the
end of our lessons, to understand most of what the cowries would tell me, without
going through any kind of initiation, trance experience, or any other ritual measure
aiming at establishing a relation with the spirit realm (apart from the ritual preparation
of the shells described above). And even where diviners refer to contacts with jinn or
other non-human spirit entities as mediators, extrasensory capacities, or a highly
specialized knowledge (londoo) of ritual secrets (sing. kungloo) revealed through
dreams or acquired from other specialists at high costs and/or long periods of
apprenticeship, the technical basis referred to by Samba Nguer is agreed upon almost
without exception. Specific positions or configurations of shells within a particular
lay-out are perceived as signs (tamansee) that indicate the course of development of
specific aspects of the subjects immediate social and economic environment and
allow for the understanding of the inquiring subjects personal state of mind and
emotional condition. The following section of this chapter explains a number of
frequently encountered positions, their names in Wolof, and their signification in
Senegambian cowrie divination.

Positions in Cowrie-Shell Divination: their Names and their Meaning

The following examples of frequently interpreted positions in cowrie divination were


explained to me by Samba Nguer, in Serekunda, Gambia, in June/July 2003. The

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Illustration 2.3: Samba Nguer, Serekunda, Gambia.

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Divination as Resonance

illustrations are photographic reconstructions of the positions that Samba Nguer


considered relevant for me to know and memorize. The positions are rearranged
according to sketches I made during the lessons I received. All terms and names are in
Wolof.

One of the most basic distinctions necessary for the reading of the different poistions
in cowrie divination is that between those shells that fall with their white concave
outer surface pointing upwards and those who fall on their backside. The former were
referred to by Samba Nguer either as fermee (closed, from the French ferm) or as
dafa dep (lying on its belly) (cf. the top shell in the picture underneath), while the
latter were referred to as ubeku (open) (cf. the lower of the two cowries). In many lay-
outs, the closed shells would be conceived of as symbolizing male persons while open
ones would be seen as relating to women. Samba Nguer would apply this distinction
at the beginning of the session when identifying, through several preliminary casts,
the shells upon which he would ask his client to pronounce his intention or concern.
In the case of male clients, he would select four closed shells pointing towards the
client, while with female clients he would choose four open shells pointing in the
18
clients direction. In other situations, however, open and closed shells would be
distinguished without being interpreted according to their male and female
connotations. So would Samba Nguer, for instance, count the closed shells in certain
lay-outs in order to identify the number of objects that should be distributed as sadaa.
In these instances, the indication of sadaa would be their only interpretative value and
their otherwise assumed male connotation would not come into play.
Many of the significant positions or signs are formed by not more than two
shells. This does not only mean that great attention has to be paid to the exact position
of many single shells within a lay-out, but also that a single lay-out easily contains
two or three signs that can and often will be read in relation to each other.

18
All cowrie diviners would pass some of the shells to their clients in order to pronounce
their intentions. However, not all of them would follow the same procedure of carefully
selecting the appropriate shells according to their orientation.

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An important example for a position containing only two single shells consists in two
either open (female) or closed cowries (male), lying side by side but pointing in
opposite directions. This position is interpreted as a sign of long life (gudd fan) and
good health (wr):

If one of the shells lies with its open side upwards, the same position signifies a state
of hesitation, uncertainty, ambivalence, and undecideness called xel aar ([being of]
two minds), xel bu werente (an arguing mind), nakhar (something disliked or
unpleasant), or sikisaka (zigzag):

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Divination as Resonance

If in the same position both cowries point into the same direction, this indicates a
calm and untroubled mind (xel mu dal):

Two open shells pointing towards each other with their back (taat, lit. the bottom)
indicate a good marriage (sey bu nex):

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A similar position where both cowries seem to move away from each other is called
sey butas, a dispersed marriage, indicating divorce:

Both positions are related two the position of ngoro, lit. engagement, indicating
concern for a person of the other sex either in form of a love affair or in form of an
actual concern for making first arrangements towards marriage; metonymically, the
same position also often indicates a possibly conflictual relationship with ones in-
laws, i.e. those people towards which one has obligations through marriage:

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Divination as Resonance

Two cowries pointing at each other with their heads (bop), and lying in one line,
indicate an agreement (waxtan) between two parties:

If the two heads overlap, the position indicates khoulo (quarrel) or japante (dispute,
discussion, fight):

If the two cowries still seem oriented towards each other but one of them seems to
diverge in direction, the position indicates a disagreement (illustration missing).

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If one cowrie (open or closed) is covering another, open shell, the position is called
bir, the belly, indicating pregnancy (embe). The relative position of the upper cowrie
indicates the position of the fetus.

If the top shell seems to glide off the other, the position indicates the act of giving
birth (wosin).

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Divination as Resonance

A closed shell partly covering up an open one is seen as indicating the state of being
ill (feybar). If, as in the illustration below the head of the lower shell is covered, this
is understood as a sign of grave illness that may even lead to the death of the person:

The exact prognosis of the development of a persons illness becomes only evident
through the contextualization of the position by the rest of the lay-out. In the example
below, the position indicating the persons illness (upper left) is specified by a line of
four open shells lying parallel to each other (right):

If we assume that the client sits to the right side of the lay-out, so that the shells would
appear to be moving away from him or her, this would either indicate the soon
recovery of the patient or the fact that the illness is a matter of the past, rather than the
present. The possible development of the clients illness is further specified by signs
of good health (wr) and a long life (gudd fan) appearing in the lower left half of the

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lay-out. In order to safeguard the positive development of the subjects health


condition, the client would be advised to distribute two white objects as sadaa
(candles, white kola, chickens, etc), indicated by the two closed shells on the top and
buttom of the open shells that indicate his or her recovery. In a way, the context of the
position indicating a grave illness is, in this case, nullified by the rest of the lay-out.
This results in a total lay-out that would usually be commented upon with expressions
such as peace only (jamm rek), or bakhna (it is allright, lit. good), both expressions
indicating an ultimately positive state of affairs.

A closed cowrie covered by another closed shell at its broad end is usually referred to
as poliis (police) but may also include military personel as it is generally conceived of
as representing any person wearing a uniform. In most cases, this position indicates
arrest, trouble with state authorities, or other legal conflicts in which the intervention
of the police might be expected. In the illustration below, the person in uniform
(right) can be seen pursuing a single individual, indicated by the single shell turning
towards the upper left half of the picture. This individual will most likely be
understood as representing the inquiring client himself, a male member of the family,
or a close friend.

An open cowrie covering a closed one indicates betrayal (wor). If the pointed ends of
the cowries lie above each other in one line the attempt of betrayal is likely to

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Divination as Resonance

succeed. If the directions of the pointed ends diverge, the betrayal is likely to be in
vain and will not harm the person concerned.

A closed or open cowrie half leaning over another open shell is perceived as
representing a person washing him- or herself over a bowl of water, indicating ritual
ablutions (sangu):

A position in which a cowrie almost stands on its head is understood as indicating


shame (rus). In most cases this points towards the fact that someone is acting against
the clients interest but will not succeed. A situation which, ideally, should cause that
person to be ashamed of his or her actions.

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A single cowrie lying on its side (jaasi) is often referred to as kibaar, lit. news (from
the Arabic khabar, pl. akhbar), indicating the arrival of a letter or the receiving of a
telephone call.

A few signs are composed of three or four cowries. This is for instance the case for
the sign indicating a person of the night (niti guddi) or sorcerer (dm). The sign is
perceived as ressembling a vulture (tan) with wide spread wings:

In most cases, Samba Nguer referred to it as niti guddi, person of the night, rather
than dm in order to make clear to his clients that they were not confronted with
occult non-human entities but with other people using maraboutic magical action
against them. Their actions however, he always assured his clients, would have no
effect as long as the client takes the recommended ritual measures (distributing sadaa,
using ablutions that could be prepared for the purpose of protection, perhaps wearing

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Divination as Resonance

a protective amulet, etc.). In the illustration below, the sorcerer/person of the


night/vulture can be seen attacking a person already heavily ill:

Other signs are composed out of a larger number of shells. A circle of cowries
surrounding another single shell is for instance perceived as representing the house
(kr), reflecting the enclosure surrounding the building or buildings forming a
compound in rural architecture, even if today many compounds show a rectangular
structure. The same constellation of shells can also indicate plas (derived from the
French place), i.e. a job opportunity, or a position in an institution or company.

If, however, the surrounding shells point towards the person encircled in the middle,
the same position does not indicate the house or a possible opportunity for salaried
work. Instead, it reveals the danger of catt, the ill-intended speech of thers (also
referred to as lami, the tongue), a notion comparable to the cultural concept of the

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eye (al-ain) in North Africa and the Middle East which, in the same way as catt, is
often interpreted as indicating the injurious influence of social envy.

A position in which a single shell is found at a considerable distance from a cluster of


shells and positioned as if moving away from where the client is seated, is referred to
as yoon, the path, or yoonu tukki, the path of travel, indicating entrepreneurial travel
or migration to Europe or elsewhere. If the cowrie moves into the direction of the
client rather than away from him, the same position is understood as indicating the
arrival of a foreigner, gan, i.e. a visitor or guest.

A cluster or pile of closed shells is referred to as xalis, money, or bagaas, from the
French bagage, luggage, in both cases indicating (the reception of) wealth and
prosperity:

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Divination as Resonance

Four cowries positioned in the corners of an imaginary quadrangle would traditionally


be interpreted as the four feet of a cow or bull, embodying the promise of an increase
in property useful for household and family. Today, the same position is usually
referred to as woto, derived from the French voiture, indicating the acquisition or gift
of a car, embodying the promise of income (if used, for instance, as a taxi) and a more
affluent and comfortable life.19

19
To have the expectation of receiving a car as a gift may seem unusual to the outside
observer. In the Senegambian context, however, although few actually have the luck, to be
given a car by a relative or friend living abroad, in Europe or the US, either as a gift, or in
order to work with and with the promise of a reasonable share in the expected profit, is, in
the light of chronic unemployment and very poor payment for most kinds of work to the
average person, often the only realistic hope to ever obtain a car.

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All of the here listed configurations of cowrie-shells or signs (Mand. tamansee)


occur regularly during sessions of cowrie divination and can be interpreted by the
diviner. The direction and spatial coordination of single shells or specific clusters of
shells indicate in how far and in what way different positions refer to the subject or
may be related to other persons within the subjects environment. Additional
information can be derived from counting the number of open and closed shells in a
particular lay-out. With female clients, Samba Nguer counts the shells that fall with
their open side pointing up (ubeku, open), while with male clients he counts those
with the open side down, i. e. lying on their belly (dafa dep) or being closed (ferm).
An even number of shells (matna, lit. it is enough) indicates positive developments,
while an uneven number (dafa manqu, lit. there is a lack, from the French
manquer, to lack), indicates obstacles or difficulties in the predicted course of events.
Regardless of being even or uneven, a lay-out showing a large numbers of open or
closed shells forming a single cluster, is read as indicating a heap of money (xaalis) or
luggage (bagaas), signs that announce good luck and the acquisition of material
wealth. When such a cluster of shells appeared, Samba Nguer would indicate it
explicitly to his client. He would then ask his client to touch the cowries with the open
palm of his or her right hand, and then touch his or her own forehead and heart with
that same hand so that the blessings contained in this particular position of the cowrie
shells will be accepted and safeguarded.
In this context, it is interesting to note that most of the Wolof expressions
used to describe the different positions and signs have exact equivalents in Mandinka
and vice versa.20 As with the terms and categories used in Islamic geomancy, the
existence of equivalent designations in several different West African languages
shows that these divinatory technologies are not restricted to single linguistic or
ethnic groups but provide for an interethnic and interregional technology. This has
both practical as well as more theoretical consequences.
As far as clients speak the language of the diviner in question they can and
do consult diviners from other ethnic and linguistic backgrounds. Diviners, in turn,
will provide their services to clients from different linguistic backgrounds and often

20
Cf. the comparative glossary of divinatory terms in the appendix of this study.

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Divination as Resonance

be able to communicate in their respective language. Most people in the Casamance


and the Gambia are bi- or multilingual. They are often not only proficient in the
language of cohabiting or neighbouring communities, but also master the lingua
franca of near-by (regional) centers (for instance Crole or Wolof in the region around
Zguinchor, or Wolof when staying or living in Dakar). Not surprisingly, diviners do
not feel restricted in terms of the geographical radius where they are able to operate.
Many specialists often undertake journeys to the bigger cities for access to a larger
clientele, even if they do not feel particularly confident with the dominant language of
that area. In that case, diviners often rely upon the help of a relative or friend who is
sufficiently familiar with both languages. These journeys can last from a few days up
to several months, for instance when immediate assistance is requried for a client with
whom one already has a long established relationship. Although based and firmly
rooted in the Middle Casamance, Abdoulay Karamba Faty, my host in the village
where I started my research in 2002 and himself a specialist in geomancy, used to
spend several months in Dakar each year, often during the dry season when there
were little agricultural activities to be supervised on the fields, and especially before
banna saloo, the annual Islamic slaughtering feast, in order to be able cover for the
considerable extra-costs of that feast consisting, for instance, in a ram to be sacrificed
in the familys compound, extra food supplies in order to be able to welcome guests,
and, if possible, new cloths for the members of the family. Other diviner-marabouts
undertake trips to or take residence in other African regions (several times I heard e.g.
of specialists working in Gabon), in the Gulf area, Europe or North America where
they provide their services not only to the members of West African migrant
communities, but also to other African migrants, as well as members of the
autochtonous population of their host countries.21 On a more theoretical level, the fact
that most divinatory terms and categories have equivalents in the different languages
spoken in the Senegal and Gambia shows that maraboutic divination cannot be

21
Sometimes pioneering migration to certain areas, sometimes following currents of
migration already under way, today West African marabout-diviners operate in many
European and North American cities (cf. e.g. Kuczynskis extensive study on West
African marabouts in Paris [Kuczynski 2002]).

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reduced to a single local hermeneutic tradition but must be considered as a translocal


technology with a common ritual repertoire. It is due to this translocal, translinguistic,
and transethnical structure of Senegambian divinatory praxis that it actually makes
sense to speak about Senegambian rather than Mandinka, Wolof, Peul, Serer,
Balant, Mandjak or Diola divination, even if ones research mainly draws, as is
the case with this study, on material in only two of the mentioned languages
(Mandinka and Wolof). At the same time, it is important to note that in some of the
mentioned ethnic and linguistic contexts there may be divinatory traditions that do not
pertain translocal tradition of maraboutic divination which I describe here but are part
of earlier, non-Islamic, local cultural traditions, often linked to other sociocultural
fields than the personal difficulties and endeavours that are characteristic for
maraboutic consultations. Among Lebou and Wolof, for instance, divination plays an
important role in the ancestral religious and therapeutic praxis of possession rituals
(cf. Zemplni 1966: esp. 329-340), while divination among Manjak speakers in
Guinee-Bissau and Senegal has been described as being primarily concerned with
issues of witchcraft and the protection from it (cf. Teixeira 2001)? a topic that has
also been described as being central to the concerns of most central and southern
African divinatory traditions.

Considering the large number of different positions that the cast shells can form, and
remembering Samba Nguers emphasis upon the necessity of learning how to
recognize and interprete them, it becomes clear that, technically, cowrie shell
divination operates through the process of grasping the meaning of significant
patterns and constellations of shells within the larger lay-out into which the shells fall
with each cast. The interpretative process concentrates on the identification of
relevant topics (social relationships and conflicts, personal projects such as marriage,
work, migration, etc.) and conditions (unrest, ambivalence, illness, etc.). By
translating the figurative and symbolic signs found in the divinatory lay-out into
statements about the clients personal situation and/or affliction the diviner is able to
gain insight and to develop a first understanding of the specific case. This process of
identifying the issues most urgent and relevant for his client is complemented by a
parallel interpretative move of identifying the specific value or tendency of the issues

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Divination as Resonance

indicated by the divinatory signs. As described above, this complementing


interpretation often draws on the potential meaningfulness of the number of closed or
open shells within each lay-out. Another way of identifying the specific value or
tendency of the issues appearing in the configurations of the cowries lies in the
possibility to interprete the spatial position and orientation of the signs in relation to
the place where the client is sitting during the consultation. Shells pointing away from
the consulter can for instance be understood as indicating that the problem in question
is about to dissolve (perhaps already being a matter of the past) while shells pointing
towards the client can indicate that the developments predicted still lie ahead of the
subject (may be showing developments in the more distant rather than near-by future).

From Technical Knowledge and Linear Interpretation to Force and Intuition

Somehow, at the moment one has understood and described the technical basis or
method of this type of divination, everything seems to be said. In a way, this is also
what happened during the process of my apprenticeship with Samba Nguer. Once I
had learned to distinguish (and memorized) the different positions that can be
identified in the divinatory lay-out, the enigmatic veil of the divinatory proceeding
being lifted and its technical properties layed bare, there seemed little more to say.
Although this did not happen abruptly: next to the instructions that I received, I had
the chance to assist at many consultations which we then discussed, and there were
many other issues to talk about ranging from those aspects of his work that were not
directly related to divination (such as healing techniques, the making of protective
amulets, etc.), to his life-history, and other, more personal issues, touched upon in
increasingly informal conversations. But one could feel that the end of our
cooperation was approaching. At the same time, however, (and it is here that my
personal experience, I believe, echoes an experience familiar to many novices of
esoteric or otherwise complex professions) I knew that despite the knowledge I had
aquired, I would not be able to divine in the same way as I had witnessed Samba
Nguer doing with such certainty and success so many times. The reason why the
novice doubts his ability to succesfully apply the knowledge he acquired is, of course,

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not to be found in the novices incompetence (although it can feel that way) but in an
evident lack of praxis. In other words, what characterizes the situation of the novice
after having acquired the technical basis of a particular divinatory technique is the
necessity to attempt to gradually apply in praxis that what he has learned only in
theory and through observation. Accordingly, when, at the end of our cooperation,
Samba Nguer gave me the set of cowries he had prepared for me, he encouraged me
to use them regularly, to practise the casting movements as often as possible in order
to get comfortable with it, and to trust their messages and my own understanding of
what the shells would reveal. Gradually, he said, I would be able to divine
successfully and everything I would tell someone asking to throw the cowries for him,
that person would see.
The necessity for the novice to move from theoretical knowledge to applying
the outlined interpretative techniques practically and personally shows that the
process of learning how to divine is never fully identical to the transmission and
acquisition of formal procedural and interpretative principles. In other words, while it
remains crucial for the future practitioner, as well as for the cultural analyst, to learn
and to understand how a specific technique works, the description of the technical
principles can never describe the totality of (the doing of) divination as the actual
divinatory performance is necessarily mediated by the personal agency of the diviner.
The fact that the actual process of divination is necessarily mediated through
the person of the (individual) diviner has important implications. It can, for instance,
account for many of the particularities and idiosyncrasies that can be observed among
different practitioners. Why does one diviner, for instance, carefully select, by several
preliminary casts, the shells most suitable for the articulation of the nganiyo by the
client, while another diviner would just take a number of shells regardless their
position in the lay-out, may be even without first having specifically cast them? While
the origin of such differences between different diviners is not even necessarily be
located in his own decision but is perhaps just a reproduction of what was explained
to him during his apprenticeship or revealed in his dreams, it is easy to imagine that,
historically, such differences have slipped into praxis due to individual changes of
habit and/or personal preference.

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Furthermore, the necessity of applying schematic interpretatory models to


specific consultational situations that are never fully identical leads not only to
differentiations in the outward way of applying and executing a specific divinatory
technique among different diviners but also necessarily entails a kind of internal
differentiation within the person of the diviner himself. As shown above, many
positions in cowrie divination can be interpreted in different ways: a circle of shells
appearing in a particular lay-out can be conceived of indicating the house or
compound of the person (kr), the family and relatives living with the consulter, ill-
intended speech of others (catt) likely to neccessitate ritual protection, or a place or
job opportunity within an institution or company (plas). When asked how one could
know in which case this or other signs that have multiple interpretative values would
carry which of their possible meanings, the diviners I worked with said unanimously
that in most cases, they would just know, without having to rely upon specific further
indications within the particular lay-out.
What this points to in my opinion is, on the one hand, that the meaning of a
particular sign is not only derived from its position or direct semiotic context within a
particular lay-out but that it is also understood from the context of the consultation,
i.e. from his understanding of his clients situation arrived at prior or during the
consultation, as well as from his general insight into the material and psychosocial
conditions of his clients. One the other hand, however, when a particular lay-out or
sign has several different or ambivalent meanings, the ability of the diviner to actually
identify the intentional concern of the client, to assess the possible developments of
the issues at stake, and to prescribe the necessary ritual remedies, depends not only
upon referential knowledge but also on other, non-inferential forms of knowing that
draw neither on the explicit value of the signs appearing in the shells nor on the
diviners knowledge of his clients plans, situation, or affliction.
Mandinka-speakers refer to this general abiltity of the diviner to come to
know and reveal what could not be known from the consultational context itself as
having force (ka semboo soto). On the one hand, this is a metaphorical expression
that transfers the phenomenon of physical force to the domains of knowledge and
understanding. On the other hand, however, ka semboo soto can also be understood
in a more direct sense in so far as it denotes a force that, although may be not

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physically tangible, is nevertheless conceived of as a real quality of the diviner,


manifesting itself with every succesful divinatory performance. The difficulty here
lies of course in the fact that while from the perspective of the client a quality such as
semboo is perceived as deriving from the authority of the diviners interpretatory
performance, a notion such as force is difficult to describe and grasp in itself. This is
especially true because the expression of having force as a description of the
diviners ability seems to stand on its own without further symbolic detailing or
characterisation of neither the force itself nor the act of divination. Unlike in other
cultural contexts where the diviners revelatory ability is for instance compared to the
ability of the hunting dog to sniff out what cannot be seen with the human eye (cf. for
instance De Boeck & Devisch 1994, and Devisch 1999: 93-116 for a detailed
discussion of the multiple symbolic and cosmological dimensions at play and
elaborated upon in Luunda basket divination and mediumnistic divination among the
Yaka in southwest Congo), the notion of semboo is generally not described in more
detail and does thus offer little additional hints as to the nature or character of the
diviners ability to divine.
Pragmatically, this ability of the diviner to know how to interpret
certain signs in a specific situation even without having contextual knowledge about
his client can perhaps best be attributed to and described as an intuitional insight into
the meaning of the divinatory patterns of the cast shells. An intuition that is gradually
developed through the practitioners growing experience and his increasing trust in
his own immediate apprehension of the nature of a specific case. Of course, such a
pragmatic construction of the force of the diviner as divinatory intuition just replaces
one unfamiliar notion (force) with another, may be more familiar one (intuition),
without actually being able to reach to the core or possible origin of the phenomenon,
let alone arriving at some kind of scientific explanation of it.
In this context, it is also interesting to reconsider the fact that in the
Senegambian context, as well as in countless other divinatory traditions, the diviners
ability to reveal the causes or probable developments of the issues at stake is
conceived of and explained in terms of his ability to communicate with spirit entities.
Could it not be argued that the fact that the ability of the diviner is so often coined in
terms of contact with spirits or the divine results from the fact that divinatory insight

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has always been felt and experienced as originating outside of ones own
consciousness? Or, in other words, could it not be argued that the cultural assumption
of the existence of an external agency involved in divination is the result a historical-
cultural process of postcognitional and postexperiential rationalization of an
experience of knowing for which even the practitioners themselves had often no
words? Such a hypothesis is of course highly speculative and basically impossible to
prove. It is, however, interesting to note that a certain inclination to assume an
external rather than internal origin of certain types of knowing cannot only be found
in the context of divination but is also refelcted in the etymological connotations of
many of the words used in different European languages to describe intuitional insight
in general. An inspiration, for instance, derived from the Latin inspiratio, and
understood as a sudden, unexpected idea, is, literally, not the product of the mind but
that what is breathed into it. Similarly, the German term Eingebung, usually
translated as a sudden idea, inspiration, or intuition, literally refers to something
given-into, i.e. put into ones mind, apparently from the outside.

Summarizing the above, it becomes clear that the divinatory performance, although
referred to in the Senegambian context as an act of viewing, looking at, or
looking for (jubeero in Mandinka, seet in Wolof), should not primarily be
understood as direct visual perception nor does it consist in a linear reading of the
divinatory signs appearing in the cast shells.22 Instead, divination forms a complex
process of interpretation and understanding based upon the individual diviners
technical ability, his general as well as case-specific insight into the clients moral and
material life conditions, his experience, and intuition.
I would argue that this description of the interpretative process as based on
both inferential (contextual knowledge, reading of signs, interpreting the clients

22
It is interesting to note, however, that the term intuition, derived from the Latin (in-)
tueri for looking at, gazing at, contemplating, refers to a visual mode of perception as
the basis of its working in the same way as the terms that designate the act of divining in
Mandinka and Wolof. In this sense, the term intuition cannot only serve as a technical
term to describe the mode of consciousness that lies at the basis of the divinatory process
but could even be used as a literal translation of the Mandinka and Wolof terms for
divination: jubeeroo and seet.

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individual reactions during consultation, etc) as well as more intuitional ways of


knowing is useful for at least two reasons. First, by indicating that cowrie divination
(and most other forms of divination) draws upon a technological basis and method
that can be learned and aquired, one avoids an overly mystifying reading of divination
as if it were a way of knowing uncomparable to other, normal modes of cognition.
And second, by that the insight developed by the diviner during the consulation can
neither be reduced to the result of a schematic application of its underlying method,
nor to prior contextual knowledge about his client, one avoids the over-rationalization
of the divinatory art. At the center of the divinatory process as a whole will always
remain an enigmatic kernel that can not be fully grasped, neither by the observer nor
by the diviner himself; an enigmatic kernel, however, which is not necessarily a sign
of complete epistemic alterity but which is, on the contrary, an essential characteristic
of all forms of intuitional knowledge. Understood in such a way it becomes clear that
as a specific form of culturally institutionalized intuition, divination reflects
modalities of consciousness that are not restricted to the field of divination alone but
also play an important role in the experience of creativity in artistic and scientific
production, as well as in the lived experience of interpersonal praxis.23 In this sense,
the construction of the diviners force as intuition may at least serve to de-exoticize
the phenomenon and to reveal the probably universal familiarity of those modes of
consciousness that underly the praxis of divination.

Although the above offers a useful starting point to get an idea of what divinatory
praxis is, I would argue at the same time that the exclusive description of divination in
terms of its formal principles and how the diviner is able to apply these principles,
however nuanced and detailed, must always remain incomplete. It overlooks the fact
that what is most relevant about divination for the persons involved in the divinatory
encounter is not the artistry or nature of the diviners performance but its
consultational quality. Divination, in other words, is subjectively significant primarily
because it responds to the inquiry of the client or patient about his most urgent
personal concern or need (hajoo), and allows for the identification of the ritual

23
Cf. for instance the important role played by intuitional understanding in the context of
midwifery and homebirth in the United States (Davis-Floyd & Davis 1996).

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remedies required for its solution. Consequently, from the perspective of the client,
how a specific technique has to be used, how the divinatory instrument is read, and
whether this interpretative process depends upon technical, intuitional, or other forms
of knowledge is almost irrelevant as long as the diviner is able to locate his clients
concern, to analyze his situation, and to point out the necessary ritual remedies. An
approach that focuses on divinatory method and the person of the diviner helps to
understand divination as a(n) (extra)cognitive epistemic activity but it falls short to
understand how divination actually affects the subject in his or her personal situation
as a consultational and potentially therapeutic encounter.
In order to understand the significance of divination as consultation it is thus
necessary to move away from questions concerning the technical aspects of specific
methods, the person of the diviner and the nature of divinatory cognition. Instead, one
has to ask how divination works in relation to the subject that takes recourse to it.
What kind of experience is constituted by the actual unfolding of the divinatory
performance? How can the immediate unfolding of the divinatory process as
consultation be considered in itself, i.e. apart from the interpretatory agency of the
diviner? What characterizes the discursive landscape that is generated in the
divinatory event? What kind of world comes into being through the divinatory
performance?

Immediacy and Emphasis as Modalities of Divinatory Signification

Drawing on the pioneering works concerning religious symbolism by Durkheim,


Freud, and Jung, but also on French and American semiology (especially De
Saussure, Peirce), the works of Lvi-Strauss (structuralism), and symbolic
anthropology (Geertz, Schneider), one of the central insights of anthropological
studies regarding the working and efficacy of ritual has been the recognition of the
important role played by symbol and metaphor in the way ritual creates meaning and
brings about the transformational changes it aims at. While different authors have
focused on different aspects of symbolic meaning production, ranging from the
orectic/emotional, the unconscious, and the somatic, to the ideological and social,

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there seems to be a consensus amongst most authors that much of the efficacy of
ritual action depends upon the power of symbols and metaphors to influence and
shape reality by transferring aspects of meaning from one area of signification and
experience to another.24 Confronted with this pivotal importance of symbolism and
symbolic mediation for the understanding of ritual processes, one of the main
difficulties in understanding how divination unfolds its meaning in the Senegambian
context lies in the relative scarcity of symbols and metaphors in the unfolding of the
divinatory process.
Although the language of the cowries remains symbolic in that the lines of
shells appearing in a particular lay-out may be conceived of as symbolically
representing paths or barriers, circles representing the house or the family, etc., these
symbolic configurations seem not to mediate different dimensions of reality,
although they do transfer certain obvious observations made in the realm of physical
objects (a physical barrier) to the realm of social relations or individual action (a
barrier in the divinatory pattern signifying a blockage in ones social relationships,
indicating possible disputes, conflicts, and enmities). This more immediate and direct
rather than symbolic way of signification in Senegambian divination is enhanced by
the fact that the patterns or constellations that the diviner observes in the lay-out of
the cast shells are only very occasionally brought to the attention of the client. In
other words, while divinatory interpretation as a process of reading the signs
(tamansee) that appear through the manipulation of different divinatory instruments
(cowries, roots, geomantic drawings, etc.) relies upon the diviners ability to grasp the
meaning of symbolic constellations, these semiotic constellations are almost never
brought into the dicursive space of the divinatory encounter as such, i.e. as symbols or
metaphors, but merely tend to be presented in their derived, divinatory meaning.
Although it is possible that a diviner points out a certain position within the lay-out to

24
The bibliography on this classic field of anthropological analysis is vast. Important
ethnographic studies in Africanist anthropology include for instance Evans-Pritchard
1956, Turner 1967, Fernandez 1983, and Devisch 1993. For good reviews of the different
theoretical developments cf. for instance Ortner 1973 and Devisch 1985a. For more
references and a useful didactic introduction cf. the first section of the second part of
Lambek 2002.

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demonstrate to the client that what he states is not his invention but is revealed by the
cowries themselves, most clients are not able to recognize the position referred to, to
distuinguish it from other signs, or to attribute a specific meaning to it. On the level of
the explicit divinatory pronouncement it seems that the mode of signification of the
signs referred to is more indexical than metaphorical, simply indicating the category
of the issues at stake without necessarily bringing other dimensions of meaning into
play.
A similar observation concerning a relatively direct rather than symbolic
mode of divinatory signification can be found in Turners famous account of Ndembu
basket divination (Turner 1975 [1961]). Citing C.G. Jungs distinction between signs
as analogous or abbreviated expressions of a known thing () and a symbol as the
best possible expression of a relatively unknown fact, a fact, however, that is none the
less recognized or postulated as existing, (Jung 1949: 602, cited by Turner), Turner
stated that the objects of divination [i.e. the objects used in Ndembu basket
divination] have many of the characteristics of signs (Turner 1975 [1961]: 207-8). He
continues that while, according to Jung, symbols are alive and pregnant with
meaning because of being attempts to express that what seems to escape more direct,
non-symbolic wording, the symbols or objects used in basket divination
approximate to the status of signs () become objects of cognition and cease
progressively to be objects of emotion (Turner 1967: 208-9).
Against this description of Ndembu basket divination as primarily cognitive
activity, De Boeck and Devisch have argued that the significance of Central African
divination is far more situated in the realm of the symbolic than Turners account
suggests (De Boeck & Devisch 1994). De Boeck and Devisch demonstrate in great
detail how in the Central African divinatory traditions of the Luunda and Yaka of
Zaire, divination initiates and unfolds as a highly complex symbolic process in which
the person of the diviner, the materials and objects used for divination, and the
diviners speech all allude to and evoke different dimensions of the cosmological,
social, and bodily orders that make up the cultural lifeworlds in these contexts. The
symbolism employed and manifesting itself in divinatory initiation, action, and
speech among Luunda and Yaka is thereby of such a profound order that it can best
be described as an encompassing process of world-making that performatively

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generates relationships with bodies, people, and the cosmos which cannot be fully
captured by discursive, representational and cognitive levels of interpretation. In this
sense, according to De Boeck and Devisch, the divinatory praxis and the sequential
analysis of the particular anamnesis in the sance bring forth in a highly corporeal and
sensory way the meaningful creation of a new integrative order which interlinks
body-self, social body and cosmos. (De Boeck & Devisch: 128). A world-making
that, as Devisch writes in another text, seems to finally aim at the creation of an
original matrix-like space that echoes and reenacts the primordial oneness of the
cosmos (Devisch 1999: 94). How does this account of divination as symbolic world-
making relate to the rather direct, and almost a-symbolical mode of signification that
seems, at least from the perspective of the client, to characterize Senegambian
divinatory praxis? Maybe this direct and referential rather than symbolic way of
signification is restricted to cowrie-divination? Or is it also apparent in geomantic
(ramalo) and other forms of divination used in the Senegambian context?
In the short introduction to Islamic geomancy as practised by Mandinka
diviners in Senegal and Gambia which I presented in the first chapter, it was shown
that each of the different geomantic signs, as well as their positions in the geomantic
chart, bears a specific name, often referring to prophets ackknowledged in the Islamic
tradition (Yusuf, Adamu, Muhamadu al-Mahdi, etc.). At the same time, each of the
signs, as well as the positions in the geomantic system they are usually associated
with, is attributed a specific field of divinatory meaning (the heart or Self of the
person, paternal relatives, wealth, illness, death, etc.). Not surprisingly, the divinatory
meaning of a specific sign often relates to the hagiographic properties of the prophetic
character that gives it its name. The sign of Isa (Jesus), for instance, is associated with
illness because of his ability to heal. Ayuba (Job), in turn, is associated with death as
he almost died when put to test by God with severe illness, while Suleiman (Salomon)
is commonly seen as representing wealth because of the wealth and prosperity he was
granted by God.25

25
In the case of Isa, Ayuba, and Suleiman, the relation between the divinatory meaning of
the sign and the hagiographic connotations of the prophetic figure whose name it bears
seemed to be common knowledge for most diviners. In the case of the other thirteen signs,
the relation between the divinatory meaning of the sign and the connotations of its name

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Divination as Resonance

The same relation between the name of a sign and its divinatory meaning can
be found in certain charts used in divination by the use of a string of prayer beads
(tasabayo la jubeeroo). In this form of divination, the client is asked to choose one of
the beads (keso) from a string of prayer beads (Mand. tasabayo, derived from the
Arabic tasbih). After the client has chosen a bead, the diviner will count the
remaining beads back to the beginning of the string (which is indicated by a larger
bead in the middle of the loop). The diviner hereby counts in rounds of sixteen so that
the result, independent of the absolute numerical position of the bead that has been
picked out, will always be a number between one and sixteen which then corresponds
to a chart of sixteen sections (cf. the Illustration 2.4) that closely resembles the system
of sixteen signs, and sixteen Doors or Houses characteristic for Islamic geomancy.
What is striking in the application of such a divinatory chart, as well as, more
generally, in geomantic divination, is that although most diviners are aware of the
relation between the meaning of some of the signs and the life-history and theological
importance of the prophetic figure whose name it bears and whom it represents, the
relation between the sign and the figure it represents is hardly ever mentioned, let
alone elaborated upon during consultation. In other words, the appearance of a
specific sign does not normally unfold its potential symbolic meaningfulness as an
examplary or paradigmatic life-history allowing the client to identify with the
respective prophetic character and to be drawn into the dynamics of its religious
connotations. Instead, the diviner will directly refer to the meaning of the different
signs or, in cowrie divination, to the meaning of the different positions resulting from
the casting of the shells. In this sense, in the Senegambian context the meaning of the
divinatory enunciation is neither mediated by specific metaphors engulfing the
subjects consciousness, nor is it based upon a specifically coherent or encompassing
symbolic universe re-enacted through the diviners words. No cosmology is enacted
apart from the occasional reference to spirit entities as mediators of the divinatory
messages (jinno, ruhano) or as agents that somehow interfere with the clients affairs
(jinno or, in Wolof-speaking contexts, rab). Instead, in most cases, the divinatory

did not seem to form part of the usual canon of ritual knowledge that most specialists
would be familiar with.

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Illustration 2.4: Divinatory chart of sixteen signs used for divination with a string of
prayer beads. The chart was drawn and explained to me by Solo Siss, Mandinka
diviner/marabout and head of the village (alkaloo) of Karantabaa Dutoo Koto in Eastern
Gambia, February 2003.

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Divination as Resonance

Illustration 2.5: Solo Sis. In front of him the divinatory chart reproduced on the previous
page.

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enunciation refers directly to the social, economic, psychological, and medical


situations and conditions of the inquiring subject. Little or no symbolic elaboration is
involved. What characterizes the divinatory enunciation most is its immediacy, the
fact that what the diviner perceives of his clients situation does not need to be
mediated by complex symbolic or metaphorical cultural structures of meaning but can
be pronounced as directly as it seems to show itself for the diviner in the divinatory
signs.
In this context, one has also to bear in mind that the diviners succesful
identification of ones concerns forms the main emic criterium for the success and
quality of a consultation. Successful divination is not only, as often assumed by
outsiders, a question of whether the predictions made by the diviner will actually
realize themselves in the clients personal future (although the fact that things turned
out as predicted is of course a point often highlighted when people give an account of
their personal experience with divinatory consultation in retrospect). As an expression
and result of the diviners ability to identify certain relevant issues within the
unavoidably much larger field of his clients subjective, lived reality, the divinatory
enunciation can, in this regard, be understood as a process of epistemic emphasis; a
process of gradually making visible of those areas of life most relevant for the client
in his or her current situation.
But what exactly is the quality of this process? What is its significance? And
how does the divinatory enunciation unfold its impact?

The Emergence of the Noematic Correlate: Divinatory Enunciation as


Ontogenetic Resonance

In the previous chapter I have argued that through the articulation of the intention
(nganiyo) by the client at the beginning of the divinatory consultation, and the
identification and consideration of this intentional concern through divinatory
procedure, Senegambian divination constitutes an intentional cultural space that
implies and responds to the subject in relation to his or her specific and situated

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Divination as Resonance

personal intentions, longings, expectations, plans, concerns, and predicaments.


Through subsequent explorations into the internal logic of Islamic geomancy as
practised by Mandinka diviners in Senegal and Gambia, it became apparent that the
inquiring subjects reason for divinatory consultation should be understood as being
deeply rooted in a motivational background of subjective woundedness or trauma
(niitooroo). What is the consequence of the pronouncedly phenomenological and
subject-oriented perspective on Senegambian divination, pursued in the first chapter
of this study, for the understanding of the immediacy and presencing quality of the
divinatory enunciation? How does the interpretation of divination as intentional space
relate to the general significance of the form and content of the divinatory
pronouncement?
The answer to the above questions comes into view if we look at the
divinatory enunciation in ways similar to the internal logic of the divinatory
encounter, i.e. precisely as a response to the subjects intention, desire, wish, longing,
or affliction, or, in other words, to the nganiyo of the subject noematically defined by
the concern or need (hajoo) to which it refers, and as a response to the motivational
background of niitooroo that forms the basis of the clients inquiry. As an answer and
response to the noematically defined intention of the subject, the divinatory
enunciation can be understood as the discursive emerging of the noematic correlate of
the subjects intentional concern that, pronounced silently upon the divinatory
parapherenalia, formed the main reason for and object of the divinatory inquiry from
the onset.
Formulating this relation between the initial intentional condition of the
subject and the significance of the divinatory enunciation in a less technical and
abstract manner, one could say that an inquiry concerning, for instance, a medical
condition, plans for migration (travel), or conjugal difficulties, becomes meaningful
for the client only in so far as the this intentional concern actually reappears in the
divinatory signs, is brought out by the diviner, and elaborated upon in such a way that
it contributes to the answering of the clients questions. If health, travel, and conjugal
relationships would not be referred to in the divinatory enunciation, althoughthey are,
in the particular case, the clients primary concern, the statements of the diviner
would be of little or no importance to him. Unless, of course, the client has the

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impression that the issues addressed by the diviner refer not to himself but to someone
else he knows well, or that he touches upon issues that were not taken into
consideration at the beginning of the consultation, but which form nevertheless an
inextricable part of the subjects wider existential sphere of concern, but maybe in an
unconscious way.
The crucial aspect here is to realize that the divinatory enunciation is not just
significant as a cultural document reflecting important social or symbolic structures of
a particular culture, but because it is significant for the client in his or her individual
concern. Although this aspect is evident, it remains crucial to fully acknowledge this
point in order to be able to grasp the significance of the divinatory enunciation not
only as a cultural institution or tradition but as a concrete possibility of experience
that realizes itself with every succesful consultation. In more phenomenological
terms, significant for the client means that the meaning of the divinatory
consultation must be seen in its relation to the specific intentional concern of the
subject as a result of the subjects specific actualization of intentional being, or, in
terms of Heideggers existential analytics, as a result of the being-in-the-world and
concern (Sorge) of the subject as the main ontological characteristic of human
existence (cf. Heidegger 1993 [1927]: esp. 12, 13, and 39-41). The consequence of
this subject- or Daseins-relatedness of divinatory meaning for the phenomenological
analysis of the significance of the divinatory enunciation is at least twofold. On the
one hand, and this summarizes what has been said in this subsection of the text so far,
the significance of the divinatory enunciation depends upon whether it is able to
locate, articulate, and bring into view the subjects intention, and to concretize those
aspects of the subjects concern that were unclear and unsure for the client at the
moment he or she decided to take recourse to divinatory consultation and which were
thus central to the expectation of the subject when entering into the divinatory
encounter. In this regard, in order to be meaningful for the inquiring subject, the
divinatory enunciation has to respond to the specific personal longings, expectations,
anxieties, concerns, and predicaments that make up the concrete intentional situation
of the subject. It is this subject-related specificity that makes the enunciation
immediately significant for the inquiring subject. The question that arises here,
however, is whether a focus on the specificity of the enunciation, while perhaps

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Divination as Resonance

adequately accounting for the importance of the details of a concrete enunciation,


does not at the same time inhibit us to grasp the experiential quality of the divinatory
enunciation as a whole?
In regard to the broader meaningfulness of the divinatory enunciation, it is
crucial to realize that even those topics and aspects that are perhaps not answering
directly to the subjects specific intentional concern do nevertheless simultaneously
evoke and reflect a complex topography of issues, situations, and concerns that
alltogether make up the subjects cultural lifeworld in a much more encompassing
sense. Following this line of thought, I would argue that the general meaningfulness
of the divinatory enunciation can be described as the result of the unfolding of a
specific discursive process which is simultaneously mimetic, poetic, and ontogenetic.
The term mimetic is hereby used in a twofold way. On the one hand, the notion of
mimesis is not meant to indicate that the divinatory representation simply represents
reality as it is (which is, ultimately, impossible) but that it situates itself in continuity
with the world as it is perceived, understood, presupposed, and generally experienced
by the individual subject requesting divination. Characteristic and a prerequisite for
the meaningfulness of the divinatory enunciation is, in other words, a certain
continuity between the subjects cultural lifeworld and the content of the enunciation.
On the other hand, and here I follow recent insights in literary theory (cf. for instance
Spariosu 1984 and Scholz 1997), the term mimetic also implies that, as a discursive
process, the representation that is taking place in divination is not just an imitation of
reality but posits the world in a distinct way, i.e. in a way that is specific to the
cultural logic and experience implicit to the divinatory praxis. By positing the world
in a mimetic motion that is not fully identical but nevertheless necessarily in
continuity with prior conceptions of the lifeworld, the divinatory enunciation has the
potential to renew and reshape the subjects understanding of reality without breaking
away from the subjects lived experience. This potential of the divinatory enunciation
to add to, modify, and potentially enlarge the subjects understanding of a whole
range of important areas of experience can be understood as its poetic dimension.
Poetic not just in the sense of being evocative of certain aspects of reality in certain
ways, but in the more literal sense of poiesis as a making, i.e. a bringing-into-presence
and revealing of realities and aspects of reality that are maybe already consciously

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part of the subjects life world, while at the same time also providing new
perspectives to and renewing familiar realities. Seen in such a way it becomes clear
that, constantly oscillating between a static reproduction of the world as it is known
and the dynamics of renewing and remaking reality, the divinatory process makes that
the subjective and sociocultural representation and understanding of reality gradually
start to encompass previously unrealized aspects and dimensions.26 In this regard,
divination constitutes a discursive praxis in which by naming, referring to, and
articulating different ontological regions, fields of action, and personal conditions
such as the house, travel, work, illness and the body, dreams, or the heart and the
mind of the person the already existing reality is not only reflected but also shaped in
decisive ways.
Phenomenologically, these two dimensions of the meaningfulness of the
divinatory enunciation as both intention- as well as lifeworld-related response to the
subjects situated concern, do not represent opposed principles but form
complementary actualisations of the same ontological disposition of enmeshedness in
and openness to the world that forms one of the central tenets of phenomenological
theory, both in Husserls writings on intentionality and lifeworld, as well as in
Heideggers existential analytics. Both these bodies of work share an emphasis on the
being-in-the-world of the subject as the main ontological characteristic of human
existence.27 In other words, the general meaningfulness of the divinatory enunciation

26
The fact that the relation between the intentional concern of the subject and the general
representation of reality in the divinatory enunciation is dynamic rather than static, already
indicates that part of the significance of the divinatory encounter lies in its relation to (the
growth of) the subjects understanding of his or her personal situation. The hermeneutic
quality of the divinatory encounter will be dealt with in more detail in the following
chapter.
27
Husserl developed the notion of the lifeworld in Die Krisis der europischen
Wissenschaften und die transzendentale Phnomenologie (1976 [1954]), as a critique
towards the subject-irrelative, objectivist logic of the natural sciences. Husserl argued that
the seeming objectivity of scientific reality is the outcome of specific prereflective, and
prescientific modalities of experiencing and action (such as for instance the bias towards
object-ivity in visual perception and in the instrumental use and making of objects as
tools) and is therefore necessarily linked to the subjective nature of human reality and
history from which, in order to avoid and counter the loss of sense (Sinnverlust) that lies at

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Divination as Resonance

as a mimetic and poetic discursive field, as well as the specific meaningfulness of the
divinatory enunciation as response to the clients intentional concern (the nganiyo of
the subject and its noematic correlate [hajoo]) both rest upon the embeddedness of the
subject in his or her own lifeworld precisely because lifeworld and subjective
intentionality are not separate entities but correlates. Divination, in this sense,
constitutes an encompassing lifeworld-poiesis or genesis, an ontogenetic response to
the intentionality of the subject as an apriori disposition that concretizes itself in the
specific questions, longings, and afflictions that lie at the basis of the subjects
motivation for divinatory consultation.
In this regard, the meaningfulness of the divinatory enunciation can be
conceptualized as the result of the interplay between the content of the enunciation
and a continuum of varying densities of subjective responsiveness that characterizes
and results out of the subjects varying degrees of intentional enmeshedness in the
world. Seen as a field of meaning that unfolds in the interstitial space of lifeworld and
subjectivity, both of which already imply each other, divination comes into view as an
ontogenetic resonance. A resonance between the subject and the lifeworld in which
the intentional concern of the subject is identified and located, and in which, at the
same time, the lifeworld reoriginates in its meaningfulness precisely because of its
being articulated not in an abstract way but in relation to and for the subject.

the basis of the crisis of the European sciences, it should not be severed. Combined with
Husserls earlier reflections on the intentional nature of human consciousness, the concept
of the lifeworld comes into view as a specific phenomenological notion that is able to
describe the immediacy and wholeness of the subjective world as the totality of the
possible noematic correlates implied in the intentional being of the subject. In this sense,
the notion of the lifeworld demonstrates that the world that we live in should not be
conceived of as a separate entity, an object that may somehow be located outside of the
conscious subject. Instead, from a phenomenological perspective, the world that we live in
is not objective, but subjective-relational and can only be experienced in this way, i. e.
by ourselves through our selves. For Husserl (and phenomenological theory in general),
the world as lifeworld (Lebenswelt) is, consequently, not the object but the ground and
horizon of all consciousness.

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Chapter 2

In this and the preceding chapter I have focused on the locating of the force of the
divinatory encounter in the phenomenological and cultural quality of the divinatory
process as intentional space (Chapter One) and resonant field of cultural signification
(this chapter). In the following chapter, it will be shown that the process of
responding to and resonating with the subjects intential concerns and personal
lifeworld is not mechanical or predetermined but realizes itself in a deeply
hermeneutical and dialogic praxis that is based and relies upon the active personal and
intersubjective involvement and engagement of both client and diviner.

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Divination as Hermeneutic Encounter: Reflections on
Understanding, Dialogue, and the Intersubjective Foundation
of Divinatory Consultation

While the diviner executes his art, drawing, calculating, and interpreting geomantic
patterns, reflecting on and analyzing the positions of the cast shells, or, in the case of
listikaaroo, the Islamic art of dream divination, contemplating on the relation between
his dream visions and the situation of his client, the client waits for and listens to the
diviners findings. As the diviner succeeds to gradually address the issues and
questions most significant for his client, different paths of thought and reflection
appear and start to shape and renew the subjects understanding of his or her own
personal situation. In this regard, from the start of the first divinatory pronouncements
and through the gradual unfolding of the divinatory inquiry, the intentional space of
the divinatory encounter increasingly acquires a hermeneutic quality.
Drawing on the documentation of several divinatory enunciations, the way
they unfold, as well as explanations from diviners and their clients concerning the
meaning and nature of divinatory consultation, this chapter aims at analyzing the
development and experiential quality of the hermeneutic dimension of the divinatory
encounter. The analysis will consist of three parts: First, it will be argued that the
hermeneutic dimension of the divinatory encounter is as fundamental to the divinatory
working as the ontological disposition of intentionality and lifeworld-relatedness that
formed the focus of the preceding chapters. Second, it will be demonstrated how in
most cases the enunciation evolves not in a strictly monologic way but in a relatively
open, dialogic fashion. In the third and last part of the chapter, it will be asked how
exactly the hermeneutic and dialogic dimensions of the divinatory encounter relate to
each other and why this relation may be considered crucial for the understanding of
the full significance of the consultational character of divinatory praxis.
Chapter 3

Understanding Divinatory Enunciations

In the preceding chapter, the working of the divinatory enunciation was described as a
resonance between enunciation, lifeworld, and the intentional concern of the inquiring
subject. I argued that the way in which the divinatory process of enunciation responds
to the intentional concern of the subject and his or her enmeshment in the lifeworld is
brought about through a direct and immediate rather than symbolic evocation of those
regions and aspects of lived reality most relevant for the subject at the moment of
inquiry. But how exactly is this resonance realized? Again it is useful to differentiate
between the lifeword- and the intentionality-related dimensions of the resonance that
is brought about by the divinatory encounter. While the general meaningfulness of the
enunciation as lifeworld poiesis is the result of the parallels betweenthe referential
content and moral implications of the divinatory enunciation, on the one hand, andthe
world of the subject shaped through habitual praxis and lived experience, on the other,
the relation between ones own intentional concern and the general content of the
enunciation has to be realized by the subject him- or herself, through his or her own
active understanding of the divinatory pronouncement. In other words, while the
resonance between lifeworld and enunciation envelops the subject in a more
immediate, prereflective way, the resonance between enunciation and subjective
concern is always necessarily the result of the subjects own understanding of the
enunciation, and not just of a simple objective coinciding between the referential
content of the enunciation and the content of the subjects intentional concern. What
is meant by this becomes clearer if we look at a further example of a divinatory
enunciation, its overt content, and the way the enunciation is understood by the
inquiring subject him- or herself. The example consists in another geomantic
enunciation, pronounced by Abdoulaye Karamba Faty, my host in the Casamance
whom I introduced in the previous chapter. The session of which the following
enunciation is the result, however, did not take place in the Casamance but in Dakar,
during one of his regular working sojourns in the capital. Because the client did not
understand Mandinka, the pronouncement was translated phrase by phrase into Wolof
by a mediator. Due to this, Karamba Faty does not directly address his client but

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Divination and Dialogue

rather asks his translator to tell him (a fo aye), i.e. the client, what the geomantic
calculation has revealed. The enunciation is reproduced in its entirety.

Example 3.1: Geomantic enunciation pronounced by Abdoulaye Karamba Faty,


Dakar, July 2003.

Jubeeroo beteyaata. The divination is good.


Ning Allah kiidita ala, If God is willing,
a ka meng ining that what he searches,
a baa soto la. he will obtain it.
Bari a be niikuyaa nding soto la. But there is a small annoyance [lit. sth.
causing bitterness to the soul].
A be suboo sang na janni a be taa. He will buy some meat before leaving.
Subukero, a yaa sadaa kambaani ndingo Uncooked meat, he will give it as sadaa
la. to a little boy.
A fo aye ning Allah kiidita ala Tell him that if God is willing,
ning aye wo bondi, if he distributes that,
wo be kela aye kayira le ti. it will cause him peace.
A fo aye ning a yaa dorong, Tell him that as soon as he sees that [the
annoyance],
a ya long ko ye sadaa bo le, knowing that he has distributed the
sadaa,
a kanata le; he will (already) have escaped (from it);
wo be kela aye kayira leti. that will cause him peace.
A fo aye a se kodoo fanang Tell him also that he has to divide the
ning tiyaa keeroo talaa dindingol teema. money and the groundnuts between some
children.
Kodoo aye meng soto, The money that he has got,
janni a be taa. before leaving.
Tiyaa kaama. Groundnuts.
A fo aye a be firing na baake. Tell him he will be very fortunate [i.e.
rich].
A fo aye diyamoo. Tell him, betrayal.
Diyaamoo funtita a ye musu kuwo to. Betrayal has come up [in the geomantic
signs] concerning a woman.
A fo aye ko ning aye ing bondi sadaa ti Tell him once he has distributed [lit.
dorong, taken out] the sadaa,
tiyaa kaama, the groundnuts,

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a fo aye jamfaa le mu, tell him the betrayal,


a be kela a ye kayira le ti. it [the sadaa] will cause his peace.
A baa jela a aa la He will see it with his own eyes that,
meng yaa long ko as you know,
a te kela probleemo ti. it will not be a problem.
A fo aye a be firing na baake. Tell him that he will be very fortunate.
A ning aye i wakili And he has to do everything to consider
aye ala dookuwo muta ala hajoo leti. his work as his own concern.
Ala aato taa beto be jee. His good advancement lies there [i.e. in
his work].
A fo aye ing niikuuyaa, Tell him that annoyance,
wo mu kayra leti fanang. it will also be peace [i.e. be of no
negative consequence].
A ba jeela le. He will see that.
Bari suboo wo ma diyaa-kuyaa le ti But the meat, at all costs [lit. sweet or
fo a ye wo sang. bitter],
Parce que a funtita tell him that he must buy it.
ate fango la jaata kendeyoo le to. Parce que [because] that has come up
A la kuu kolengo [koleyaaringo] fanang, in the context of his own state of health.
a bee be cikala a kang. His difficulties also,
Parce que taama siloo all of it will vanish.
ning aato taa. Parce que [because] the path of travel
A fango yaa long ko a be ing meng bee and advancement.
to, He himself knows all he is engaged in,
a avancemango sotola jee. he will have advancement there.
A foo a yeing diyaamoo kuwo fanang Also tell him, concerning the talking,
ing, The sadaa for that is groundnuts and
wo le sadaa mu tiyoo ti aning kodoo ti. money.
Wo le mu ala sadaa ti. That is his sadaa.
A be daameng, There where he is,
ala kuwool bee be beteyaala. All his affairs will be fine.
Dimbayaa keeaa fanang, His family matters also,
mmang tana je jee. I havent seen any trouble there.
A fo aye, jawuyaa meng be ala, Tell him, the enemy he has,
a fo aye ning Allah kiidita ala, tell him if God is willing,
wo safee meng be a bala, the amulet that he has,
a fo aye toujours dorong a ye tara a bala. tell him to wear it toujours [always].
Jawuyaa warta. [Because] the enemy is great.
A fo aye ning Allah kiidita ala, Tell him that if God is willing,

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Allah baa maakoyi la. God will help him.


A fo aye inuu le funtita ala kuwo to. Tell him that, concerning his affairs, that
is what has come up.

If one looks at the above enunciation in terms of its overt referential content, one can
note that the enunciation concentrates on three different but closely related aspects:
First, possible obstacles and dangers that might inhibit the client to realize what he is
concerned with (an annoyance, diyamoo, an enemy). Second, the fields of concern
in which these obstacles may appear or which seem, from the reading of the
geomantic calculation, of particular relevance for the client (his work, family, and
health, a woman, as well as, maybe, migration or entrepreneurial travel indicated by a
path of travel). And third, the objects that the client should take out as sadaa in
order to avoid and counter these dangers (uncooked meat, groundnuts, and money, all
of it to be distributed to children in the street). If we look at these statements in terms
of their respective specificity, one notes that while the ritual measures that should be
taken by the client are precisely indicated, the enunciation seems to be less precise
about the exact nature of the clients concerns and the concrete difficulties the client
might be facing in the future. From the viewpoint of the client, however, the meaning
of the enunciation is evident. What it refers to is clear. Asked about the proceedings
and the content of the consultation that had just finished, the client, a young man in
his late twenties, gave the following explanations which are reproduced verbatim in
order to show the extent to which the different elements of the geomantic enunciation
are perceived as relating directly to the clients personal situation.

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Chapter 3

Example 3.2: Postconsultational interview, given by a client of Abdoulaye Karamba


Faty, July 2003, immediately after the consultation. (Explanations were originally
given in French and are here presented in their English translation. The interviewers
questions are separated from the clients explanations by double slashes):

When he gave me the pen, thats so that I ask about the sacrifices that I should do.28 I
asked God that he may enlighten me about everything I do. My future. My work, my
family, and my health.
Yes, these three things.
Then, the old man has taken the pen and he has written [i.e. executed the geomantic
calculations].
First of all, he asked me to do the sacrifices. That concerns the place where I work.
Everything that could happen to me there, if I do the sacrifices, it will not happen to
me. At another place, there is a girl that plots against me.
Also in that regard, he told me (necessary) sacrifices so that it cannot happen to me
any longer.
// What were these sacrifices? //
The sacrifices?
Groundnuts.
(Concerning the situation) where I work, I have to take out [i.e. give or distribute]
meat. There also, there are people that dont like me. What can I say? They dont
want me to work with them. Its a question of meanness. Because we work there
together. Before, I supervised everyone. Because the old man took me on, I
supervised everything. And I did that correctly. It is only that people always want
something that the other has not. What I want to say is that If one works It is as if
I worked with B. [his friend], well, I want you to pay me more than him. You cant
take these things serious If you work, I have to receive the same payment that he

28
The term sacrifice is one of three terms used by Francophone Senegales to translate
the term sadaa (derived from the Arabic sadaqa) or, as in this case, its Wolof equivalent
(sarax). The most frequently heard translation of these three is charity (charit); the
translation of sadaa/sarax as sacrifice (sacrifice) is less frequent while its translation as
offering (offrande) is rare. The different layers of meaning alluded to by of these three
different translations and the cultural significance of the practice of sadaa will be dealt
with in Chapter Six.

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Divination and Dialogue

has. Because we work always on the same construction site, from eight to four, so we
have to get the same salary. That what I do is what he does. So, the other people [i.e.
those trying to be paid more than others for no reason], they are mean, not correct.
And because I am very demanding [in terms of working performance], they prefer not
to work with me. Thats it.
// Did you earn more than them? //
Yes, I gained more. I gained more because I I am not a mason, I came there as a
supervisor. When I started to work as a supervisor I did it for two years. The
workers who worked there It was me who paid them more money than they had
ever received before. Since I was there, I paid them for their overtime. On Sundays I
didnt pay them like any other day. Even the old man congratulated me a lot [i.e.
appreciated the way he dealt with everything]. (But) Then he changed another thing.
Because his son had come. To him [i.e. the son] it looked as if I was making his father
lose money. But I was not losing his fathers money. I wanted that everything would
be settled. Everything on the right track: He who works, he has his hours from eight
to four, one has to pay him 2000 CFA [some three and a half Euro]. From four
oclock, you have to pay him overtime. Thats what the regulations say. So you have
to pay him. Ok, when his son arrived, he had no clue about all of this. He [the son]
brought his son-in-law. I dont know. Something like that. He has taken over my
place.
// The son of your boss? //
Yes, (but) only the truth can separate us [i.e. himself and his boss].
He [the son] brought his son-in-law. That person was a liar because anything that
would be said (by the people working) on the site, he would go and tell the son of the
patron. That caused those people certain problems.
Now he is worth nothing, that guy. Because now they have brought him down [i.e.
brought down his salary] to the extent that everywhere he goes he complains: they
dont pay me enough, they pay me this Its not serious [i.e. no way for a decent
person to act].
Now, the people I, because I am demanding [i.e. demanding a lot from those who
work under his supervision], I dont allow them to use me like that. So they have to
pay me. The people who work (for you), you have to pay them in time and thats it. If

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Chapter 3

its me (who is in charge of supervision), I (would) push them [i.e. push the boss, or,
in this case, his son, to pay everyone in due time]. So they [i.e. the son of his boss
who has taken over his position and the people around him] dont want me to work
with them [i.e. to work with the workers as their supervisor.]
Those sacrifices [i.e. the sadaa mentioned by the diviner], its to make sure that they
can do nothing to me.
Its because of this that the old man [i.e. the diviner] has asked me to do those
sacrifices so that I will keep my job and that they wont continue to bother me.
()
// Your impression is that he [i.e. the diviner] has seen you? //
Yes. That what I asked about, that is what he told me. Directly.

The above explanations of the client concerning his understanding of the diviners
statements clearly show that although the enunciation pronounced by the diviner may
appear relatively unspecific to the outside observer, for the client himself the words of
diviner are perceived as clear and specific in so far as they seem to refer directly to
the specific situations and conditions that are at the heart of his concern. For the client
himself it is evident, for instance, that the ill-intended speech of others (diyamoo)
mentioned by the diviner refers to the situations of envy, competition, and enmity he
experiences in the construction firm he is working for, while the enemy mentioned by
the diviner, for him, refers to his boss son who has taken over his position as
supervisor.
In terms of how the words of the diviner are interpreted by the client, the
geomantic enunciation presented above is quite typical. As in this case, most
enunciations refer to specific areas of the subjects everyday lived reality although
they do not necessarily include details about these situations in terms of the identities
or names of the persons involved, the exact means that others use or will use to harm
the person or to interfere with his or her plans, or the exact personal circumstances of
the subject (such as, in this case, the place or exact nature of the work the client is
concerned about). The reason why this relatively abstract nature of the divinatory
enunciation is not perceived as flawed or as lacking precision is simple: as long as the

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Divination and Dialogue

diviner succeeds to generally locate the clients intention, question, or affliction in a


specific area of concern, he proves his ability. It would not make sense to further
reveal details that the client him-or herself is already familiar with.29 This in turn
indicates, again, that the significance of divination lies not primarily in providing a
means to acquire knowledge or information as such. Rather, its meaning is located in
its consultational quality of shedding light on (ka bitaarlaa) and assessing the state
and development of personal situations and potentially problematic trajectories of life
in line with the significance they have for the individual client. This consultational
purpose seems to ask for an almost systematic consideration of specific fields of
action and experience pertaining to the subjects lifeworld. They are far less aimed at
surprising the client with intricate details of his personal surrounding. This logic of
divination as a systematic inquiry into the subjects situation and predicament is
particularly apparent in those divinatory techniques in which the presence of the
different relevant categories of interpretation is not, as in geomancy and cowrie
divination, assumed to already exist in the material apparatus of the method itself (the
geomantic drawings or the positions of the cast shells) but where they have to be
brought into play by the diviner himself. A good example for this is divination by the
use of a divining mat: Folded once in the middle and kept as motionless as possible
between the thumb and index finger of the right hand, the diviner interrogates the
divining mat by posing series of questions concerning the situation of his client in
terms of his or her health, family, work, marital problems, etc. The mat responds to

29
It is interesting to note, however, that sometimes diviners do provide such details, and if
that happens, it makes an extra impression. In one instance, for example, I remember a
diviner in This stating after one of the first casts of his set of shells that the light
motorbike with which the client arrived at the diviners compound, was not his first but his
second; something the diviner could not have known before but which the surprised client
confirmed as correct. In another case, another diviner, while considering the lay-out of the
cast shells in front of him, mentioned to his client that another diviner had apparently told
him at an earlier occasion to prepare a white cock as sadaa but that, from what he saw in
the lay-out, he had never done it. While the mentioning of unfullfilled ritual obligations is
not unusual and may reflect the diviners awareness of the difficulties people may have to
afford the necessary sadaa, especially when this concerns animals or cloth, both of which
can be very costly, the fact that he correctly pointed out the exact type of sadaa clearly
surprised the client.

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Chapter 3

the diviners questions by remaining motionless or by opening up. If it remains


motionless, this is understood as a negative answer to the question posed, indicating
that the clients concern or affliction situates itself in another area. If the mat opens,
this indicates a positive answer to the question posed, a sign that the concern of the
client is actually related to the area of life asked about. In that case, the diviner will
pursue his investigation in that direction. In so far as the method itself only provides
negative or positive answers to the diviners questions without having a specific
content in themselves, the issues that are important for the consultation must be
brought into the inquiry by the diviner himself. It is he who has to pose ever more
precise questions to the divining mat in order to find out what his client is primarily
concerned with, to assess the directions things may take, and to point out the most
suitable ritual remedies.30
But what precisely does this way of assessing the subjects situation by
moving through different categories of possible concerns (migration, work, health,
etc.) imply? What is the effect of the tendency of divination to articulate its findings
in relatively general, may be even ambiguous statements? And how exactly is this
related to what was referred to in the beginning of this chapter as the hermeneutic
situation of the client?

30
Divinatory methods that, in the same way as the divining mat, assess questions
according to a binary logic of yes/no-answers can be found in many varieties and in many
different cultural traditions. The best known example for this kind of technique is probably
the simple throwing of a coin in order to decide if or if not to take a certain action in a
certain situation. Also the poison and rubber board oracles that Evans-Pritchard described
in his famous study on witchcraft, divination and magic among the Azande belong to this
category (Cf. Evans-Pritchard 1976: 120-175). Another example of the use of such a
technique among Senoufo diviners in Cte dIvoire can be found in Zemplni 1995.

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Divination and Dialogue

Illustration 3.1: Amadou Billet Diedhiou demonstrating the use of a divining mat.

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Chapter 3

Divination and the Hermeneutic Situation

Traditionally, the term hermeneutic referred to the science of interpreting canonical


texts, especially the Scriptures. In the late 18th and early 19th century, Friedrich
Schleiermacher extended the use of the term hermeneutics to encompass the
interpretation of all texts and cultural products as expressions of the psychological,
biographical and historical condition of their producers. As a result of this
development, texts in general became visible as expressions of meaning situated in
specific historical contexts (Historismus), rather than as incorporations of timeless
truths. Drawing on Schleiermacher, Wilhelm Dilthey further specified the use of the
term hermeneutic as referring to the mode of understanding necessary to grasp the
meaning of cultural and historical phenomena, in opposition to the external
approaches of the natural sciences aiming at explaining physical phenomena.
Looked at in a more abstract way, it becomes clear that in spite of significant changes
in the meaning of the term, hermeneutics was throughout its history conceived of as
referring to methods or ways of studying and interpreting texts, practices, or objects
that could be located outside the understanding subject him- or herself. As such,
hermeneutics always more or less explicitly presupposed a separation between the
understanding subject and the object to be understood. It is in this regard that
Heideggers reflections on understanding and interpretation in Sein und Zeit were
radical. Although by no means breaking with the long tradition of careful reading and
interpreting foundational (philosophical) texts31, Heidegger emphasized that the
category or notion of understanding (Verstehen) is not only philosophically relevant
as a basic principle of dealing with texts or other cultural artefacts. He argued that
understanding was a philosophically fundamental issue because it constitutes one of
the ontological existentials or prestructures of Dasein in general (cf. Heidegger 1993

31
Already during his early years as lecturer and assistant of Husserl in Freiburg from
1918-1923, Heidegger was reknown for his profound re-readings of many works of the
philosophical tradition, especially the works of the pre-Socratic thinkers, and of Plato and
Aristoteles (cf. Safranski 2001: 127-147, 148, 171).

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Divination and Dialogue

[1927]: 148-153).32 Concentrating on the normal, pre-reflective experience and


understanding of the daily lifeworld, Heidegger argued that when we see a table, a
door, a car, a bridge, etc. we do not first perceive these objects in order to then
understand what they are in an a posteriori reflection. Instead, the meaning of the
particular object as bridge, door, etc. is already present in the very first moment of
perception because, according to him, all prepredicative mere seeing of the ready-at-
hand is in itself already understanding-interpretative (Heidegger 1993 [1927]: 149).33
It could be argued that this is also what seems to happen in the way the inquiring
subject grasps the meaning of divinatory enunciations: in most cases, the subject will
not just perceive different elements of the enunciation and then start to reflect upon
them but he will immediately know what the enunciation refers to because of his or
her pregiven, already interpretative-understanding relation to his or her own life-
situation which, furthermore, the subject was asked to specify at the beginning of the
consultation by pronouncing his or her intentional concern (nganiyo/hajoo) on the
objects to be used during the divinatory procedure. In this regard, part of the quality
of the divinatory enunciation lies in the fact that, unlike a clinical biomedical
diagnosis based, for instance, on blood screens, ultrasound scans, or computer
tomographies, which does not relate to the patients own perception and experience of
his or her illness and which can often not be understood by the patient without further
detailed explanations by a medical specialist, the meaning of the divinatory
enunciation can usually be understood and interpreted by the client immediately
because it is continuous and resonating with the subjects pregiven understanding of
his or her own situation.
Summarizing the above, it becomes clear that the divinatory enunciation
should not be conceived of as a definite or objective text to be appropriated by the
client in exactly the same form as it is pronounced by the diviner. Instead, the
meaning of the enunciation must be grasped by the client through a hermeneutic

32
For a more detailed discussion of the relation of Heideggers hermeneutic
phenomenology to Schleiermacher, Dilthey, Husserl, and Gadamer cf. Moran 2000: 276-
280.
33
Alles vorprdikative schlichte Sehen des Zuhandenen ist an ihm selbst schon
verstehend-auslegend.

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process of understanding that is based upon and implies prereflective, habitual ways
of knowing as much as conscious thought and reflection. This shows that the
divinatory encounter involves the subject not merely as a protagonist in a
predetermined ritual script but as a hermeneutic subject, a person rooted in an already
meaningful world, bearer of personal (pre-)understandings, concerns, and reasonings.
Similar to what has been said in relation to the intentionality and enmeshment of the
subject in his or her own sociocultural lifeworld, here too the divinatory process
responds to the existential situatedness of the subject in a double way: it addresses the
subject in relation to one of his fundamental ontological dispositions and abilities
(here, the a priori hermeneutic situation of the subject rooted in a condition of both
prereflective and reflective understanding). And it also realizes and deals with this
ontological disposition, allowing the subject to develop a broader understanding of his
or her situation and to come to terms with his or her concrete expectations, longings,
difficulties, and uncertainties. Divination, in other words, does not exhaust itself in
the understanding of which statement refers to which of ones personal concerns but
implies a much more complex reconsideration of ones personal situation in the light
of the possibilities and difficulties, dangers and chances, openings and closures
indicated by the diviner. The resonance between enunciation, lifeworld, and
intentional concern described in the previous chapter is thus not the automatic
outcome of a ritual performance but the result of a hermeneutic process of meaning
finding that implies both the diviners enunciation as well as the active understanding
of the client.
In this context it is important to note that, unlike the case of the geomantic
consultation reproduced above, the diviners statement often consists of more than the
divinatory enunciation alone. It may also comprise more general explanations and
instructions concerning the significance of the clients own dealing with his situation,
his or her way of going about his or her difficulties, and the necessity to adhere
closely to the prescribed ritual remedies. By including more general instructions,
thoughts, and considerations the enunciation becomes less of a simple presentation of
divinatory facts but gradually evolves into a speaking to and personal addressing of
the client that may be as significant for the client as the enunciation itself. In the
excerpt of the following geomantic consultation, for instance, after having identified

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the issues central to the clients concern, predicted the imminent realization of his
respective hopes and expectations, detailed some of the difficulties that he was and
would be experiencing in that regard, and after having indicated the type of sadaa that
would provide the necessary ritual remedy to his situation, the diviner added the
following explanations:

Example 3.3: Geomantic enunciation by Abdoulaye Karamba Faty, Casamance,


March 2003.34

I ye decisiongo ta, You take the decision,


sadaa bo mu decisiongo le ti. taking out sadaa is a decision.
Ning ye meng fo iye dorong That what one [i.e. the diviner] tells you,
i y a bondi. you take it out.
Decisiongo, (The act of taking a) decision,
haaji jaaro be wo le to. all our needs are in [i.e. depend upon]
that.
Decisiongo, The decision,
ka ila kuwool bee soto noo, to be able to realize all your affairs,
wo le to. its in that.
Haa, wo mu fankoo le ti. Yes, that is to prepare oneself.
I ye fanka dorong You only have to prepare yourself
ning i ye meng ining, if that what you are looking for,
ning meng fota i ye dorong, if that what you have been told,
i taata moori yaa. you went to a diviner/marabout.
Mooroo ko ing, The diviner/marabout says this,
ing i ka wo ke, you have to do this,
ka fo wo le ye one says for that person
mooriyaa mooriyaa [, i.e. the consulting of a
diviner 35]

34
The consultation itself centered on the question of migration, indicated by the motif of
the path of travel (tamaa siloo). The paradigmatic importance of the motif of travel in
Senegambian divinatory praxis today will be treated in more detail in the fifth chapter of
this study.
35
Lit. maraboutry, i.e. that what a mooro (diviner/marabout) does in his function as
ritual specialist. The term is often translated by Francophone Mandika-speakers as
maraboutage. Note that the term is used here in a neutral way, simply referring to the

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ye kaari wati. is good for him.


Ning iya moyi If you hear
mooriyaa mang kaari wati, mooriyaa is not good for someone (that is
because),
moo doo ning a taata mooriyaa la, another person, if he goes for mooriyaa,
moorool ka meng fo aye, the diviners will tell him this,
a buka wo le ke. (but) he will not do it.
Haa, bari ning hani moorool ko a ye Yes, but even if the diviner tells him [i.e.
the other person for whom mooriyaa
works well]
niinsoo faa, to slaughter a cow,
a ye faa kataba kiling, he will slaughter it immediately,
a ye taa niinsoo faa. he will slaughter a cow.
Wo dunta kun-wo-kun le to, Whatever he embarks upon,
wo ka sonooyaale. it will work out [lit. be easy.]
Bari i ka taa mooriyaa le But if you go for mooriyaa
Mooroo ko aye ing ke, The diviner tells him to do this,
i buka a ke. you dont do it.
A ko iye kuu nasoo la He tells you to wash yourself with a
nasoo36,
fo ing nankam, for so many days,
i buka i kuu ala a aama, (but) you dont wash yourself in that
(prescribed) way.
I ko iye safeo siti a aama One tells you to wear a safeo37 in a certain
a ye tara balaa to waati way, (so that) it rests upon your body for a
certain time,
i buka ke a aama, (but) you dont do it the way you should

marabouts activities and the general fact of consulting a diviner while at other occasions
mooriya/maraboutage is often used to describe maraboutic actions which are intended to
harm others or to interfere with other peoples affairs.
36
The term nasoo refers to water with protective and healing qualities that is either
prepared by first writing Koranic verses and/or magical diagrams and formulas on a
wooden board of 30 up to sixty centimetres and then washing the verses and drawings off
into a bowl of water, and/or adding of substances specified by the diviner, such as pieces
of certain types of wood, vegetal powders, sand etc.
37
Or safoo. A protective amulet or gri-gri as it is usually referred to in Senegalese French.
The Mandinka term safeo is derived from ka safee, to write, reflecting the fact that most
amulets contain Koranic verses or magical diagrams written on a piece of paper and that it
is from these written verses and diagrams that the amulet derives its power.

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ila haaji jaroo la, to arrange your needs,


a soto te feeyaala. it will not be easy [i.e. probably
impossible].
Bari ning i ye meng fo iye i ka ke, But if you do what you have been told (by
the diviner),
ite fanang i lafita meng na jee, you, too, that what you want there,
i be wo je la ke a aama. you will see it the way you should (see it).
Haa, haa. Yes, yes.

The above excerpt clearly shows that what is said during the divinatory encounter is
not limited to predictions and prescriptions in the strict sense but may include more
general explanations of the diviner concerning the way how to solve personal
problems and how to realize personal aspirations. By insisting on the importance of
the exact execution of the prescribed ritual remedies (sadaa, nasoo, and safo), the
diviner makes it clear that from his point of view the success of ritual measures does
not fully depend upon the expertise of the diviner or the force of the ritual remedies as
such. Instead, large part of the responsibility for the success of the ritual measures
prescribed lies with the client himself. While this statement forms the central tenet of
the whole passage, it is already present in condensed form in its opening phrase. By
stating that taking out sadaa is a decision (sadaa bo wo le mu decisiongo le ti), the
diviner seems to situate part of the reason of the ritual efficacy of sadaa inside the
person himself, rather than in some kind of magical-mechanical property of the ritual
institution of sadaa, or of the objects used for that purpose. This seems to suggest that
in order to realize what one is looking for, divination not only requires the subject to
(re)consider his or her situation in the light of the divinatory enunciation but demands
the inquiring subject to act decisively and to move beyond the initial feelings of
woundedness, ambivalence, unrest, and doubt that characterize the subjects
preconsultational state of mind, according to the internal conceptualization of the
divinatory praxis (cf. the last sections of Chapter One). This should probably not be
understood in the sense that the diviner situates the whole of the efficacy of the
divinatory and remedial process on a psychological level. However, the diviners
insistence on the importance of the clients degree of decidedness clearly shows that
what I have called the move from the subjunctive to the indicative (cf. Chapter One)
is not only implied in the articulation of ones intentional concern at the beginning of

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the consultation but represents an important aspect of the divinatory process as a


whole and is emphasized by Senegambian ritual specialists themselves.
While extra-divinatory explanations do not feature in all consultations, they
are by no means uncommon. Ndeye Diop, the only female diviner with whom I had
the chance to work, mentioned, for instance, that after the end of the divination, she
would talk to the person. No longer using the cowries she would speak to her client as
a person, according to her own thoughts and convictions. She might, for instance,
advise a young and recently married woman to stay in her (perhaps polygamous)
marriage [in order to give herself time to adjust and get used to the new situation of
being married (maybe to a man she didnt know before), staying with her husbands
family while missing her own relatives, maybe feeling exploited by her in-laws,
etc.].38 She would tell this woman that her child will have a bright future, that she
should prepare some sadaa for her childrens future, and that she should always
remember her words. All this would reassure and calm her upon her return to her
homestead.
As the above example showed, generally, the divinatory process is
characterized by a relatively precise structure, starting with the articulation of the
nganiyo at the beginning of the consultation and leading toward ritual actions
(primarily consisting in the distribution of sadaa). At the same time, the fact that a
diviner explains further details of the use and significance of the ritual remedies he
prescribes, or advises her or his clients beyond the strictly divinatory pronouncements
derived through application of divinatory method, shows that, the working of the
divinatory encounter is in its totality not fully congruent with its ritual and
performative properties. Instead, the efficacy of the divinatory encounter also draws
upon elements and dimensions that concern the hermeneutic situation of the subject as
well as the formation of a consultational relation between diviner and client. In other
words, the working of the divinatory encounter does not only rely upon the efficacy of
its intrinsic ritual and performative qualities but also depends upon the diviners
empathy and encouragement of the client. Extending the range of factors that
contribute to the working and force of the divinatory encounter, I would argue that the

38
For more details on marriage arrangements and the demands of marriage especially in
relation to child bearing in Gambia cf. Bledsoe 2002: 70-78.

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extra-divinatory elements featuring in the consultation indicate that the ritual and
hermeneutic dimensions of the divinatory process can only realize their full potential
to the extent that they generate a concrete intersubjective consultational encounter.
This more intersubjective dimension of the divinatory encounter is most clearly
reflected in the moments where the divinatory enunciation abandons its often
monologic mode of speech and develops more dialogical traits.

Divinatory Consultation and Dialogue

Geomantic consultations are characterized by a tripartite processual structure: (1)


After the clients silent articulation of his or her intention, wish, or difficulty (2) the
diviner executes the necessary procedures and (3) then pronounces his findings.
Probably due to this clear sequential structure that separates the geomantic procedure
from the enunciation of its results, geomantic consultations seem to unfold in a rather
monologic fashion, with little or no explicit verbal interaction between diviner and
client. Differing from geomantic consultations in this regard, cowrie divination and
other casting techniques such as divination by roots or sticks (suuloofayo) and, often
as a surrogate for cowries, by groundnut shells (tiyafatoofayo) often unfold in a much
more open and interactive manner. In cowrie divination, for instance, the diviner will
sometimes ask his client to verify a certain interpretation or solicit a response by
pausing, in such a way that the client feels urged to comment upon what he has just
heard. At other moments, the client will ask the diviner to explain or to further detail
certain aspects of what he said. In other words, while the core of the enunciation may
appear rather monologic, additional questions and comment by both diviner and by
the client him- or herself make that divinatory consultations often acquire a more
open and increasingly dialogic quality. This potential for a certain degree of dialogue
in Senegambian divinatory praxis is not unusual for divination in general and has
been observed in diverse cultural contexts.39 In a detailed and closely argued analysis
of a case of numerological divination in Bangladesh, James Wilce, for instance,
identified four different forms of dialogism (cf. Wilce 2001: esp. 196-198): (1) a

39
Cf. for instance Parkin 1991 for divination in Kenya, Wilce 2001 for Bangladesh.

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dialogue more in form than in function in which the diviner invites a confirmation
of the truth of what he [the diviner] had revealed (Wilce 2001: 196-97), (2) moments
in which the diviner pauses in his monologue and clients fill in the information the
diviner seems to be missing, (3) demands for further divining on certain aspects or
persons expressing a potential for dissatisfaction, leading to revision, and (4) a kind
of implicit dialogue between earlier and later sessions for the same client referred to
by Wilce as intertextuality (197-98). At least the first three forms of dialogism seem
to serve rather direct practical and pragmatic purposes. In concentrating on these
aspects of practical and pragmatic usefulness, dialogue in divination is perceived
primarily as a means that allows the diviner to verify his findings and interpretations
with his client and to specify his search, while also offering the client the opportunity
to direct the diviners search into areas that he felt had not been treated sufficiently.
This practical function of dialogue can also often be observed in Senegambian
divinatory consultations. However, the fact that geomantic consultations regularly
develop in a rather monologic fashion shows that the diviners enunciation does not
depend upon the clients confirmations or questions but can unfold without any
overtly dialogic intervention. Even if cowrie diviners, due to the more open and
flexible character of their technique, seem to depend more upon their clients
occasional confirmations and indications than their geomantic counterparts, the
question remains if the dialogic elements appearing in many consultations do not
indicate something that goes beyond its practical use a a means of providing
confirmation and/or additional information?
Drawing on the detailed documentation of dialogic elements in two cases of
cowrie divination in the Middle Casamance (Senegal) and in Serekunda (Gambia), I
will argue that the meaning of dialogue in the divinatory encounter is not only
heuristic and epistemic but is related to the consultational significance of the this
encounter. More specifically, I will argue that the significance of the dialogic
moments in divination does maybe not so much lie in their content but in the creation
of a cultural space of recognition and trust with specific phenomenological
characteristics. The analysis of divinations dialogic dimension will then lead to the
fourth and last section of this chapter, which provides more abstract theoretical
reflections on the significance of divination as intersubjective encounter.

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Elements of Dialogue in Senegambian Divinatory Praxis

The first consultation to be analyzed in terms of its dialogical characteristics concerns


the case of a young man, originally from the Casamance region, inquiring about an
illness that struck him during his second year of study at the Universit Cheikh Anta
Diop in Dakar. The illness impeded him from following his curriculum the way he
had wanted. It also rendered impossible some other activities he had considered
important for himself. During the session he was accompanied by his mother who,
apparently, had already consulted the same diviner on other occasions. The
consultation is reproduced almost in its entirety to show the continous alternation of
dialogic and monologic passages in the consultation as well as in order to understand
the content of the consultation itself.

Example 3.4: Cowrie shell divination executed by Samba Diallo, Casamance,


February 2004. (D=Diviner, C=Client, M=Clients mother).

D: A ko foloo, ()40 First, it [i.e. the shells or the divination


in general] says, ()
a ko ila kodiforoo le? it says, where is your iron (bracelet)?

C: A fele mbuloo to. Its here, on my hand.

D: A be i buloo kang. Its on your hand.


A ko dendika koyoo. It says, a white shirt.
A ko jumaa le ko i ye dendika koyoo It says, who told you to look for a
ining, white shirt,
i ya ke i baloo kang. you must wear it on your body.
Baaba, Baaba [lit. father, used for addressing
ones son],
dendika koyoo the white shirt
i ya ke le bang, did you do it? [i.e. did you get it?],
fo i maa ke? yes or no?

C: Nnga ke le bari a tiaata lee. I did it but its torn.

40
Name of client omitted.

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D: A tiaata le. Its torn.


Doo ining i yaa ke i baloo kang Look for another one and wear it on
baaba. your body, Baaba.

We can see here that already in the very beginning of the consultation the diviner
involves his client in the consultational process by asking direct questions about
earlier prescribed ritual measures such as wearing an iron bracelet (koddiforro) or a
white shirt (dendika koyoo), measures that are mostly thought of as enhancing a
persons good luck (harjee).41 The white shirt referred to is not an ordinary,
industrially produced shirt but a shirt made from traditional handwoven cloth
(daarfaanoo).42 By showing his client that he is aware of earlier ritual measures the
diviner demonstrates his divinatory abilities. By asking his client about the different
measures, the client is drawn into the consultation and the scene is prepared for the
first predictive divinatory enunciations:

D: A ko i be taa aato de. It says you will advance.


Ning i ye soobee muta, If you make an effort,
i be taa aato de. you will advance.
A ko aatoo rek, It says forwards only,
aato kuwo the issue of advancement
wo le be i hakiloo to. that is what is on your mind.
A ko ning iye soobee muta, It says that if you make an effort
a be beteyaala i kang baake de. that will be very good for you.
A ko i be iningkaaroo mung na, It says that what you are asking for,
a be beteyaala i kang baake a yaa tara a it will be very good for you,
mang ke domonding ti. not a little bit.
Ite la ing hajoo i be mung ininkaala The concern/need that your are
teng, asking about,
a ko a be beteyaala i kang de. it says it will turn out well for you.
A ko ila palaasoo fanang It says, your place [position; here

41
Concerning the mentioning of ritual measures earlier prescribed by another than the
consulting diviner. also cf. the footnote to the first session discussed in this chapter
(example 3.2).
42
A piece of daarfaanoo is also given to boys during initiation and one of the preferred
and expected objects the bridegroom should give his bride before marriage.

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referring to his situation as a


university student but also future
employment],
ning a yaa tara i ka wo le ininkaa, in case that is what you are asking
for,
wo le ye i hakiloo londi domonding, that what made your mind tense [lit.
upright],
i hakiloo landi. calm your mind.
A ko ning allah sonta, It says if God is willing
a be beteyaala i kang de. it will turn out well for you.

In this passage, no overt dialogical elements appear. Instead, the diviner simply states
the likelihood of certain developments without soliciting confirmation or response
from the client. On the surface the predictions seem rather general. For the client
himself, as he pointed out to me in the interview conducted after the consultation, the
prediction of advancement clearly referred to his university studies and his later
career. Furthermore, the enunciation was also referring, according to his later
explanations, to the likelihood of achieving good results in the second years
examinations (the licence) about which he was particularly concerned. After having
predicted the positive development of the the clients advancing in his studies and
later career, the diviner turns to another central area of concern: his clients difficult
health condition (about which, as about the clients difficulties at university, he had
no precise prior knowledge):

D: A koo waati jumaa le sotota kundimoo It says when do you have a


ye i muta jee? headache?

C: Samaa kono lom. During the rainy season.

D: A ko waati sotota fanang It says there was also another period


sisidimoo fanang ka i batandi [during which] chest pain did tire you
domonding teng. a little bit.

C: Haa. Yes.

D: A ko waati ka soto fo i kono buka i It says, dont you suffer sometimes

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tormondo teng? from your stomach?

C: Haa, nsisoo ka ndimi Yes, my chest hurts and then it goes


a ka jii nkaroo to, down the sides,
kooma maafango. towards the back.

D: A ka taa kooma teng? It goes towards the back?

C: Haa, ning nnga nnjiijii, Yes, when I breath in,


ning nga nniyoo selendi baake teng (and) if I exhale strongly,
a ka ndimi. (then) it hurts.

Here, dialogue reappears. The client is asked to confirm the diagnosis derived from
the cast shells rather than just being confronted with it, again involving the client
actively and asking him to contribute in this way to the divinatory inquiry the diviner
is conducting for him. After having successfully located the health condition as
another of the clients central concerns the session takes a surprising turn. Instead of
further elaborating upon his clients ill health, and identifying its causes or
recommending remedies, the messages of the cowries turn to the role of the clients
mother:

D: A ko i yaa fo i baama It says to tell your mother


a ye loo. to make an effort [lit. to stand up].
A ko ning a loota ila kuwo la, It says that if she makes an effort for you,
a ko saama a be kela mantaabeng it says, tomorrow that will mean a great
baa. benefit.
A dung a be kela i kayira baa And then that will cause your great peace,
meng keta alitolu la kayiroo ti, which will cause peace for you [pl., i.e.
for him and his mother],
meng keta a fango le kayiroo ti. which will cause peace for herself.
A ko dooyata bii, It says that (she) who is small today
saama i baa jela a warta. will be great tomorrow.
I baa jela a warta baake. You will see her being great.
Bari ning a mang ila kuwo topoto, But if she doesnt take care of your affair,
ala doo yaa, she does but
a ka kafu le. enhance it [i.e. enhance her smallness].
A ko ning a ya tara a mang a fango It says if she doesnt love herself,

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Divination and Dialogue

kanu,
a kana i topoto. she doesnt care for you.
Bari ning a ye i topoto, But if she takes care of you,
a ko kuu baa be naa i kang it says, something great will come
meng mu mansa naafo ti. which is the kings hat [i.e. the sign of a
leader, a great person].
A ko a be naa de. It says that it is coming,
Mansa dokuwoo, The work of a functionary [lit. of royalty],
i be wo kela de. you will do it.
I balanta i sonta, mansa dokuwoo, If you accept it or not, the work of a
i be wo kela le. functionary, you will do it.
Wo dung, a ko, And for that, it says,
i baama anta loola ila kuwo la. your mother has to take care of your
affair.
A ko ing fooo waati-o-waati It says, that wind [i.e. his illness], every
ning a maamanta i baloo kono, time it enters your body,
a ka i batandi domonding, Baaba. it tires you a bit, Baaba.
A ka i batandi domonding. It tires you a bit.
Waati ka soto a ka jaakali baake, Sometimes you wonder greatly about
i yaa soto aameng. how you caught it.
I baama, Your mother,
kumoo koyindi a la, explain your situation to her,
a fo a ye ko a ye wili tell her to get up,
a ye loo ila kuwo la. to stand up for your affair.
Bii, kee mang tara a bulu ning a Today, she has no man but you.
mang ke ite ti.
Bii, moo te jee meng baa topotola Today, no one will take care of her
ning a mang ke ite ti. if it is not you.
A fo a ye ko ila kuwo, Tell her to take care of you,
a anta ka loo baake. she must get up for that.
A kana loo domonding de, Not getting up just a little bit
ila kuwo, your affair,
a anta wo le loola fang-fang. she must really get herself up for that.
Bii ite lom a keemaa ti, Today, you are her husband [i.e. taking
ite lom a faamaa ti, care of her], you are her father,
ite lom a baama ti, you are her mother,
ite lom a kotomati. you are her older brother.
A anta loola ila kuwo la. She must stand up for you.
Parce que waati ka soto i ka Parce que [because], sometimes you are

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jaakali baake. very worried.


Waati ka soto ali ka oo contre Sometimes you are against each other.
baake.
I maa jee? Do you see?

Given the great emphasis usually put upon deference, respect for ones elders, and the
socio-ethical obligation of young men to contribute to their families economy, I was
surprised that Samba Diallo insisted so strongly upon the obligation of the mother to
help her son rather than the other way round. In order to understand this at least two
factors must be taken into account: on the one hand, the psychosocial implications of
the students situation and, on the other hand, the context in which these statements
are pronounced, that is, the consultational situation itself. Concerning the
psychosocial implications of the clients situation it is important to note that due to
the often precarious economic situations of their families, students (and especially
those from still relatively remote rural areas), experience a tremendous pressure to
succeed in their studies in order to find, sometimes even during their studies,
possibilities to financially support their families. While most young people will do
their best to live up to their parents expectations, the difficult economic situation
dominating most peoples lifes, not only in the countryside but also in the towns and
cities, and the little prospect that there is for salaried work after one has finished ones
studies often turns this pressure to succeed into a burden that becomes almost
unbearable. If, in this situation, the person has to deal with otherwise rather normal
problems of a students life such as difficulties to perform well in certain areas of
ones curriculum or failed examinations, this may easily surpass the level of pressure
he is able to support, causing the person to fall ill and to develop even chronic
medical complaints. What seems to happen in the present divinatory consultation is a
kind of rhetoric reversal of responsibilities that, while not denying the obligations and
difficulties of the inquiring subject himself, obliges the clients mother not only to
wait for the expected return but to contribute to her sons efforts by supporting him
(morally and ritually) as much as possible.
In the following passage the diviner touches briefly upon a conflict between
the client and another person; after that, he returns to the duty of the mother to start
supporting her son in his efforts. Finally he announces the sadaa that should be

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prepared to help the client to overcome his difficulties and improve his current
situation. This is followed by another question about the clients health condition. At
the end of the passage, the prescribed sadaa is explained in more detail.

D: A ko kuyaa nding. It says, a small misunderstanding.


Ite ning jumaa le kuyaata nung jee With whom did you have a
to? misunderstanding there?
Alitolu dammaa, elewool damma, Among you pupils [students],
ali kuyaata jee domonding. you had a small misunderstanding.

C: Nkafuoo doo le be jee There is one of my friends,


nning me keleta, I had a fight/argument with him,
i ka fo a ye (). his name is ().

D: A koo baa ye ing dindingo maakoyi It says, mother, you must help this
naa. child.
ing dindingo a la sadaa feng koyoo This child, his sadaa is something
rek. white rek [only (Wolof)].
ing dindingo a la sadaa This childs sadaa,
meng funtita jang, according to what has come out here,
feng koyoo rek. just something white.
Ning i ye ing dindingo maakoyi, If you help this child
i be kuu-wo-kuu meng na, regardless of what you are occupied
wo bula. with, leave it.
I ye ing dindingo la kuwo topoto. Take care of this childs affair.
I bee kuu-kuu meng na, Whatever you are occupied with,
wo bee bula, leave it,
i ye ing dindingo topoto. take care of this child.
Ning i ye ing dindingo topoto, If you take care of this child,
lung be sotola, there will be day,
i baa fola, youll be saying,
i meeta bataa la; I have suffered for a long time,
ing dindingo ye i waaaar, this child has unveiled you,
bari i keta mansa ti. but it made you a queen.
Bii ing dindingo a ye ke mansa ti. Today, that this child be a king.
ing dindingo, a loota palasoo This child, it stands in a place
mung na ning i yaa je where, as you see,
a ko it says,

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i anta a maakoyilaa baake. you must help him very much.


I baa jela ing ye i cika a ye i hiijindi You will see that he will take you on
fang. pilgrimage [to Mecca].
I keta moo baa ti, You will be an important [lit. great]
person
woo ya tara i mang ke moo nding ti. so that your are not a small person
(anymore).
Bari ning a yaa tarai baa fola But if it turns out that you say
i te a topotola that you will not take care of him,
i be i fango siinondila teng, that you will only be sleeping,
ite dammaa la bataa mu, that will only be your fatigue,
a mang ke Samba la bataa ti. not Sambas fatigue.
Haa, a fele. Yes, its there.

M: Toaa le mu. Its the truth.


Wo kang, a fango ka wo fo ne le. That what you say, he himself told me
that.

D: Loo, puru i bee kuu-kuu meng na, Stand up, for no matter what you are
occupied with,
ing dindingo la kuwo, the affair of this child,
fo i be bola juu kenseng i yaa topoto stop walking around naked and take
fo a ye ke moo ti. care of him until he is a person.
Ite, ila duniyaa beteyaata fereng. You, your world will be fine eternally.
Haa, ila duniyaa beteyaata fereng. Yes, your world will be fine eternally.
Waati ka soto fo ing dindingo Are there not times when this childs
a singol buka baabaa mulung teng? legs swell up?

C: A ka baaba le. They swell up.

D: ing dindingo topoto. Take care of this child.


Wallahi By God,
i loo ing dindingo la kuwo la. stand up for this childs affair.
A ko i ba long na daameng It says
ko ing mang ke moo nding ti, this is not a small person.
a ko a la sadaa, It says, his sadaa is
kinimiirang nding fula. two small bowls of rice.
Wo kinimiirango i baa kela fasoo le These two bowls of rice you will
ti fasoo. prepare it in form of fasoo [a kind of

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couscous].
Nono, Fermented milk,
wo le be kela a duurango ti, you will prepare that as duurango
nono. [sauce or topping], fermented milk.

In the following passage the diviner further explains to the mother the necessity of
supporting her son because of the difficulties he might face due to other people. First,
the passage is again more monologic but then the client inquires directly about the
cause of his illness, adding yet another element of dialogism to the development of
the consultation. When the consultation seems to reach its end, the client asks yet
another question.

D: A be daa-wo-daa, Wherever he is,


mool be kurula a kang teng. people will flock around him.
A be daa-wo-daa, Wherever he is,
moo tiyoo le mu ing ti de. this one will be surrounded by people [lit.
be the owner of people].
Hanii, i aanta wilila ing kama. No, you have to get up for his affairs.
aa jawoo yaa juubee, The eyes of an enemy are looking at him,
ka jubee, looking,
bari wolu maa kanu fereng. but they dont love him at all.
aa jawool be jee a ka juubee There are enemies eyes looking
bari wol maa kanu fereng. but they dont like him at all.
Daa dool be jee, There are mouths
a ning wol ka jele. with whom he laughs.
A ko i wili It says, get up
de ye ing dindingo topoto. and take care of this child.
Wili ye ing dindingo la baloo bee Get up and protect this childs body.
tawung.
() ()
Waati ka soto ning a be livroo Sometimes, when he is looking at his
juubeela teng, books,
a aa ka lafita dibila mulungo teng. his eyes seem to become obscured.

C: Wo le fango ya tinna nnga a veroo For that reason I got myself glasses.
ining. A veroo teeta. The glasses are broken.

M: A naata wo le fango na. Its for that reason that he came.

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Kunung a ka fo ne. Yesterday he told me.


nko a ye na taa. I told him lets go.
A ko ne ko mbaloo la kuwo He told me, its the issue of my body,
aning nna dukuwoo, and my work,
nna karango keaa my studies,
a ning nlafita ka taama fanang, and I also want to travel,
wol bee. all these (things).
Haa, ing kuu sabool. Yes, those three causes.

D: A be kuu-wo-kuu mung na, Whatever affair he is in,


ite le anta loola. it is you who has to stand up.
A fele. Its there.
Ning i yaa maakoyi, wallahi, If you help him, wallahi [by God],
lung be sotola there will be a day,
ite fango be kontaanila. you yourself will be happy.
I baa fola Samba, You will say, Samba,
nnga nfango waaaar i kang ne. I revealed myself to you [and you helped
me]

C: ing wo ite le la dunoo mu. That is your duty.


Ite le be mmaakoyi la. Its you who will help us.

D: Ning i ye wo le ininkaa, If it is that what you have asked,


nnga wo le je teng de. that is what I saw [in the cast shells].
A fele de. There it is.
Ning a mang ke wo ti, if it is not that,
a fo Samba a mang ke wo ti. tell Samba that it is not that.

M: Samba mmeeta saaying, Samba, we now know each other since a


ite wo kayi saaying, long time,
Adamadin yaa le be n ning i teema. now we have a good relation [lit. the way
of Adams childs, i.e. human beings,
between me and you].
Mmeeta taa ning naaly jang We have been going and coming back

D: Bari ning i loota ing dindingo ye, But if you take care of this child,
lung be sotola the day will come
ite fango baa fola that you yourself will say,
allhamdulilah. alhamdullilah [thanks to god].

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I sawoo Your wish


be loola ing dindingo kay. rests upon this child.
Hani ing kilingo a be i bulu, Even if you have only this single (child),
i yaa topoto a aama, you take care of it the way you should,
ite fango i be murula nang jang i you will return here and you will say,
yaa fo Samba ndinkee kilingo, Samba, my only child,
a ye nsamba dulaa to nlafta it brought me there where I wanted to be.
daameng.
M: Fang-fang de. Absolutely.

D: A ye wo le fo jang de. That is what it says here.


Nte mang tana je de. I havent seen anything bad.
Fo i ye loo ing dindingo la kuwo Just take care of this childs affair.
kang

M: Ite le be mmakoyilaa, It is you who will help us.


nnga dunoo dii ite le la. We have given you the charge.

D: Bismillah. Bismillah [lit. in the name of God, here


used to express agreement].

C: Bari wo dimo But that pain


meng ka kumasee sisoo to that starts in the chest
ka jii duuma, to move downwards,
i maa long mung yaa saabu? dont you know what is its cause?

The final intervention by the client shows that he is not just passively receiving
explanations and instructions but actively follows what is said, evaluating its
meaning, and asking additional questions where things still seem not to have been
answered sufficiently. This shows that also in Senegambian divination there is the
potential for dissatisfaction, leading to revision observed by Wilce in Bangladeshi
numerological divination (Wilce 2001: 197). Even more important for the present
analysis of the dialogical quality of the divinatory encounter is to understand how
exactly the diviner responds to his clients question, not only in terms of its referential
content (the cause of the clients illness) but especially in terms of the directives of
action entailed in it:

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D: Wallahi, moo le yaa saabu i kang. Wallahi, the cause is a person.


A mang ke ka fo ko That is not to say that
musukeeba nding-nding wo le yaa ke A little old woman has done that to
i kang. you.
Wo dung foloo-foloo i tarata a bulu, May be you were once at her place,
bari nsaa fo kanfaa nding dorong. but it is only a small anger.
A ye kuma doo fo iye, She said something to you
a mang diyaa i ye i bota a kang. that you didnt like and you walked
out.
Wo kanfaa, That anger,
wo le seleta a kang. that is what has risen in her.

C: Musoo lom fo kee? A woman or a man?

D: Musoo lom, Its a woman,


musoo le ye ing dabaroo ke iye. its a woman that has used
maraboutic powers against you.
Musoo lom de, Its a woman,
a mang ke kee ti de. not a man.

C: A musoo ing bala aadi lom? What does she look like [lit. how is
her body]?

D: A baloo, a mampatabaloo lom. Her body [i.e. her complexion], it is


A mang koyi, a mang fing. brown.
She is neither light nor dark.

C: A be sutiyaaring? Is she small?

D: A be sutiyaaring. She is small.


Mmaa long aliye mune soto oola, I dont know what happened between
you,
aliye jaabiroo domonding, she didnt like your response,
wo le kanfaa seleta musoo kang. that is what made the anger rise in
her.
Bari a mang jari a ye ke kanfaa ti But its not worth to be angry about
this.
Bari ning i loota ing dindingo ye, ite But if you take care of this child, you
fango yourself

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Divination and Dialogue

M: Samba, bitung ing wo, Samba, that person,


ka a baloo topoto ne. you will take care of her body for me
[i.e. take maraboutic action against
her].
D: I be kuu-kuu meng na, Whatever you do,
ning i be i fayo waaaarla i ye i if you have to unveil yourself [i.e.
fango waaaar, take of your shirt in order to fight]
bari ing na kuwo, a topoto. but take care of his affairs.
ing na kuwo, kana muru kooma. For his affairs, dont go back [i.e.
Haa, dankeneyaa a jee too. dont focus on things of the past].
Saaying kuwo fele a muruta alitolu le Now, the affairs have returned to you
kang. [i.e. the client and his mother
themselves have to take care of what
they were looking for].
Nmaa long fo aliye wo le ininkaa. I dont know what you were asking
for.
Nnga wo le je jang to de. It is that (what I have told you) that I
Ning a mang ke wo ti, have seen here. If it is not that,
a fo Samba a mang ke wo ti. tell Samba, it is not that.

C: Toaa lom. I ye meng je, It is true. That what you have seen
i ye wo le fo. (that is) what you said.
A dung a be Allah ye wo le aama And God as well knows it is like this.
fanang.
I yaa fo aameng fanang, The way you said it,
a ka ke aye wo le aama fanang. that is the way it will be.

D: A banta. It is finished.

C: Yaa long bitung hani i keta i ye feng It is known that if you have
soto wo, something,
i ye mang feng soto wo, or you have not,
mool be i jawuyaala dorong. people are ready to be your enemies.
Surtout ning naata je ite Surtout, if they see that you

D: I ka dameng bayindi jee warta. There where you are chasing [i.e. the
topic you are ruminating about], its
vast [i.e. complex and difficult].

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(it has to do with the fact that)


D: Mool bee la jikoo be jee le to. everyones hope is there [i.e. comes
into play there].

C: I jawool ka siyaa i kanulaal ti. One has more enemies than friends.

D: A banta le. It is finished.

It is evident that from the moment the client inquires about the cause of his illness, the
consultation enters into its most explicitly dialogic phase. Not only does the client
specify his questions towards the possible identity of the person responsible for his
illness but the consultation culminates in the demand to take action against that person
and a short discussion about life in general. The most relevant aspect of this last
passage, however, seems to me the fact that the diviner disencourages his clients
from taking revenge against the person who may have caused the young mans
illness, not to turn back to things that already happened but to look forward and to
concentrate on the things lying ahead and waiting to be realized. On the one hand, the
diviners attitude here clearly indicates the general concern of Senegambian
divination for ones future rather than the past.43 On the other hand, we can see here
that dialogue is not restricted to questions of confirmation or gathering information
but a sign of a much more complex relation between client and diviner that entails
questions of advice, moral and ethical authority, adherence to and trust in the insights
of the diviner, not only in terms of their informative prospective content but also in
terms of the moral strategies implied in the recommended ritual prescriptions and
practical existential attitudes put forward by the diviner. Already the content that is

43
The time-related aspects of Senegambian divination will form the central topic of the
following two chapters.

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Illustration 3.2: Samba Diallo during a cowrie divination session. Casamance, Senegal.

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dealt with in the dialogical situations of the above consultation thus entails more than
just a possibility for the diviner to check in how far what he says actually corresponds
to his clients concerns. In a way, it could of course be asked what all this has to do
with dialogue? Could these moral and other dimensions not be uttered in a more
monologic fashion as well, analogous to the predictions and ritual recommendations
that make up the main part of the divinatory enunciation? We will see in the following
part that the whole question of the significance of dialogue in divination is misleading
as long as dialogue is merely approached in terms of how it manifests itself as a
situation of speech exchange (form) or in terms of what is actually said in these
situations (content). Rather, it will be argued that in order to understand the
significance of the dialogic dimension in divination, dialogue must be grasped as the
expression of an existential relation that is necessarily marked by a number of
characteristics already entailing the moral and interpersonal components that were
explicitly articulated in the course of the above divinatory consultation.

Dialogue as Relation

In anthropology the term dialogic has mainly been used in two, often intersecting
ways. On the one hand, drawing on the literary theoretical work of Bakhtin, it has
been emphasized that culture should not be thought of as an entity or sum of entities
with fixed borders and meanings but as something that emerges in dialogue,
combining different voices in many different ways without merging into a unified
whole (cf. Tedlock & Mannheim 1995: 1-20). On the other hand, a growing
awareness of the dialogic nature of anthropological fieldwork (often triggered by the
Bakhtian insight into the dialogical constitution of culture in general) has led to a plea
for a dialogic anthropology, consisting in ethnographical accounts and
anthropological analyses that not only distill, in a seemingly objective fashion,
conclusions and general principles from their informants explanations but that
actually show what people themselves have to say about certain aspects of their
world, and in how far the anthropologists presence influences the research situation
in which those statements were made, in order to render the process of

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anthropological interpretation more transparent and verifiable (cf. e.g. Dwyer 1977
and 1982, Fabian 1983, Clifford 1988 [1983], Tedlock 1995).44 What is crucial for the
understanding of the significance of dialogic elements in Senegambian divination,
however, is neither the dialogic constitution of culture as such (although divination
could clearly serve as an example of that process) nor the question of how to arrive
from anthropological dialogue (the research interview) to anthropological
interpretation. Instead, the crucial question here is what is dialogue in itself? What is
the quality of what we commonly understand as dialogue, i.e. a conversation between
two (or more) people or even a certain exchange of ideas? Do the dialogic elements in
divination amount to dialogue in any specific sense? And if yes, what consequences
would that have for an anthropological understanding of the cultural and
phenomenological quality of Senegambian divinatory praxis as a whole?
Etymologically, the term dialogue refers to speech or talk (-logos, from the
Greek legein, to speak) that goes across or back and forth (dia-) (cf. Tedlock &
Mannheim 1995: 4). Understood as speech going back and forth between persons
dialogue describes the experience of conversation, talking to each other, engaging
with each other through speech. According to the phenomenologist Bernhard
Waldenfels, dialogue is characterized by a ternary structure (trinarische Struktur) or
threefold direction of acting-towards (Verhaltensrichtung): speaking oneself
(Selbstverhltnis), speaking about something (Sachverhltnis), and speaking to
someone else (Fremdverhltnis) (Waldenfels 1971: 134). In so far as the client
consults another person (the diviner) in order to inquire about a specific concern
(health, marital situation, travel, work, or simply his luck [harjee]), either for himself
or for someone else but always for someone, and in so far as this is responded to by
the diviner, at least superficially, the divinatory consultation seems to fit the above
definition of dialogue. What could seem problematic, however, is the fact that the
motivation for the consultation seems to lie primarily with the client and not with the
diviner, so that the dialogue seems to be rather unbalanced or even unilateral and
could thus be seen as conflicting with the supposed shared concern for a certain issue.

44
Without using himself the term dialogue or dialogic anthropology, Crapanzanos
account of his relationship with and interviewing of one of his Moroccan informants is
arguably still one of the the best representatives of the latter genre (Crapanzano 1980).

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Furthermore, the distribution of speech between client and diviner appears in most
cases as one-sided rather than reciprocal. In many instances it is primarily the diviner
who is speaking while the client mainly listens and only occasionally gets the chance
to speak or actively interferes him- or herself. For these two reasons it may seem
doubtful that divination constitutes a true dialogic situation. With regard to the first
objection against the dialogical character of the divinatory encounter (i.e. the fact that
the motivation or reason for consultation lies only with the client and not with the
diviner) it is important to realize that dialogue does not necessitate that a shared
concern for the issues forming the object of dialogue (Sachverhltnis) originates
equally with both parties. Although a situation in which two or more persons share the
same interest from the beginning of, or even before a conversation and then decide to
discuss that matter together represents the ideal type of dialogue, in most cases
dialogue is characterized by the fact that the other person is drawn into the dialogic
situation because of being asked for information, advice, help, or his or her opinion,
rather than being initially concerned with precisely the same issue. This is not only
true for situations in which dialogues becomes a highly regraded form of intellectual
or political debate but also for even the simplest dialogic situations (such as asking for
directions or the time of the day). In these situations, dialogue arises out of the fact
that the request of the other is accepted as legitimate, normal, and of potential interest
to any person in the same situation. In general, the reason for taking-an-interest-in and
considering the others words is thus not motivated by a shared prior interest but, as in
the case of divination, by the others request and/or the deontological demands of
ones social and/or professional position. In order to speak of dialogue it is thus
sufficient if what is said relates to the same issue (here the situation of the client) and
is said because of the other, i.e. consciously addressing the other, responding to him,
and in expectation of his response (cf. Waldenfels 1971: 192-193).45 The second
objection concerned the fact that the active contribution to the divinatory encounter in

45
According to Heidegger, interest can articulate itself both as concern (Sorge) and as
concern for the other (Frsorge) (cf. Heidegger 1927 [1990]: 191-200). In other words,
the way in which a person relates to an issue can be caused either by a persons own
concern, grounding in his or her own difficulties, expectations, longings, etc. or by
concern for the other in which one at least temporarily shares empathically someone elses
concern as if it was ones own.

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speech is regularly distributed between the two parties in an unequal way. From the
outset it is the diviner who is expected to speak, not the client. Authority and
authorship lie exclusively with the diviner. The client seems to be involved in the
divinatory search only as the initiator, asking for divinatory consultation, and as
receiver of the divinatory enunciation but not as auctor, an independently (co-
)reasoning author of speech. In this regard, whatever is said during the encounter
always appears to be governed by a mono- rather than dialogic structure, and it is
because of this seeming monopoly of speech that the divinatory encounter may not
appear to be dialogue in the usual sense. But where exactly does dialogue end and
where does it begin? In his extensive phenomenological study of dialogue,
Waldenfels deals with the respective problem under the rubric Selbststndigkeit im
Dialog, i.e. the question of what degree of self-sufficiency, authorship, and
independence (Selbstndigkeit) the dialogizing subject has to realize so that the
process of understanding and agreement aimed at in dialogue in general remains
dialogic and not just passive participation in someone elses monologue (Waldenfels
1971: 182). In tackling this issue, Waldenfels writes that communicative behaviour is
neither characterized by absolute independence nor absolute dependence but by a
range of increasing independence and increased participation.46 Consequently,
certain forms of passive-receptive taking-over (passive-receptive bernahme) of
what has been said by the other such as imitation in behaviour (Nachahmung),
repeating another persons words (Nachsagen), imitation of action (Nachmachen), or
sympathy (Nachfhlen) would, according to Waldenfels, not qualify as dialogic
(Waldenfels 1971: 183).47 However, we have already seen that the working of the

46
Das kommunikative Verhalten kennt weder eine absolute Selbstndigkeit noch eine
absolute Abhngigkeit, wohl aber eine Skala zunehmender Selbstndigkeit und
gesteigerter Mitwirkung.
47
In my opinion, the including of Nachfhlen (sympathy) into this group of non-dialogic
communicative behaviour is problematic. Literally, Nachfhlen describes a way of
understanding in which one person understands the other by achieving an emotional state
(fhlen-) that is remoulded after (nach-) the experience another person has undergone and
tries to retell. This way of understanding presupposes the active attempt to understand
another person by empathy (Einfhlung, lit. the in-feeling, i.e. feeling oneself into the
situation of another person, reactualizing the implication of that situation emotionally),

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divinatory encounter is not mechanical or automatic but implies an active attempt and
effort of understanding on the side of the client. In this sense, the way in which the
client relates to the enunciation and to the divinatory encounter in general is not
passive but active and constitutes what Waldenfels calls an active taking-over of the
other persons statement, implying own reflection and agreement which should be
distinguished from mere dependence upon another persons authority. Looked at in
such a way, because of the active understanding and agreement of the listening client,
the divinatory encounter may be considered dialogical even without the necessity of
speech on the side of the inquiring subject. The latter already engages dialogically by
actively considering the diviners enunciation which, and that remains crucial, has
been asked by the client and thus represents the response to the clients (silently
articulated) question. In other words, phenomenologically, and against its outward
monologic appearance, divination is dialogical even there where the encounter
consists only in one question (the articulation of the nganiyo by the client at the
beginning of the divinatory consultation) and one answer (the diviners
enunciation). But if the divinatory encounter is already dialogic from its very
beginning, what then could be the significance of the more explicitly dialogical
elements in the divinatory encounter? The question will be considered in the light of
another, somehow reverse or negative example of dialogue in divination in which the
diviner, rather than investigating further into the direction of the clients questions,
seems to refuse it.

The following example of dialogue in divination is taken from a session of cowrie


divination executed by Samba Nguer, my main instructor in this type of divination,
practising in one of the suburbs of Serekunda, the large semi-urban conglomeration of
residential neighbourhoods south of the Gambian capital of Banjul. Samba Nguers
first interpretation relates to the position formed by the first four cowries that the
client put on the floor (together with the coins of payment) after she was invited to

and leading towards feelings of and compassion, i.e. feeling with the other (Mitfhlen).
Rather than being non-dialogical, Nachfhlen may thus be seen as a mode of
understanding that is already conditional for the kind of understanding dialogue seems to
aim at.

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silently pronounce her wish (Wolof soxla) upon some of the shells that were going to
be used during the consultational procedure. The explanations/interpretations that
then followed resulted from the casting of the shells executed by Nguer himself. His
interpretations were always preceded by the counting of the open, female shells. What
was striking in this session was the uncharacteristic high number of casting
movements, resulting in a consultation of unusual length. The session is not
reproduced in its entirety but the different casts are numbered (except for the first,
introductory interpretation by the shells cast by the client herself), in order to indicate
at what stage of the consultation the different divinatory statements were pronounced.
For better readability and in order to better reproduce the way the pronunciation
follows the consecutive casting movements, translation and original are not presented
in different columns (as the earlier geomantic pronouncements and interviews) but
one after the other, in separate paragraphs. The original is in Wolof.

Example 3.5: Cowrie divination by Samba Nguer, Serekunda, Gambia.

That is peace and salaam [Arabic for peace]. That what it shows in the first place is
peace and salaam. I do not yet know what it is about.
(Mungi defa gum jamm ak salaam. Lu nu njkka genne nungi defa gum jamm ak
salaam. Xanuma nak lu xew.)

(1)
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. It says the house, there where you live,
that what comes out first, it says the house where you live there is a man who washes
himself [for ritual protection]; that is in your house.
(Benn, aar, ett, eent, juroom, juroom benn, juroom aar, juroom ett. Mune kr gi
nga nekk li njk ka geenn la wax de kr gi nga nekk amna goor gu fay sanngo garab
nungi nii ci biir kr gi.)

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(2)
One, two three, four, five, six. A discussion between a man and a woman. If you
havent had a discussion with a man the day before before yesterday, yesterday, or
today, and you havent seen anyone else doing it, (then) be careful during the coming
days between tomorrow and after tomorrow. Do you understand?
(Benn, aar, ett, eent, juroom, juroom benn. Jappante ett goor ak jigeen bu fekke
weerante al lenn goor barki demb demb ak tey.)

(3)
You will have a long life and health, according to what the cowries say.
(Yaangi fan bu gudd ak wr ci li petaaw wax.)

After these first three casts, the same topic of a discussion between a man and a
woman reappeared several times. Samba Nguer also saw a pregnant woman in her
compound and the fact that in most cases she does not clearly remember her dream
when waking up, a sign that he interpreted as indicating good health. In the 16th and
19th cast Samba Nguer perceived something negative or bad (nakkar) about to
disappear and an uncertainty (jaaxal) that is leaving her. After this the woman said:

The last days my whole body aches (but) I dont know why.
(Fan yi daal sama yaram bi ypp mooy metti xamuma mu dal.)

Samba Nguer responded to this by reaffirming her that everything is fine (jamm rek,
lit peace only), mentioned a quarrel between two women in her house, a journey, and
the fact that her mind or spirit will be calm (xal mu dall). After the 25th cast,
obviously unsatisfied with Samba Nguers explanations and still worried about her
aching body, the woman repeated her complaint:

Me, its my body that worries me, my whole body hurts.


(Man sama yaram bi moo ma jaaxal, sama yaram ypp mooy metti.)

To which Nguer replied by interpreting the 26th cast:

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Your body that hurts, it is fine. It is there but there is a door to get out.
(Sa yaram bi metti mungi nii waye jamm rek. Mungi nii waye amnga buht pour genn.)

The session was not only unusually long but Samba Nguer also seemed to have failed
to detect the issue that his client was most concerned about: her body, or, more
precisely, the pain she had been feeling in her body since the previous morning. What
happened here? First of all, that a diviner does not succeed in addressing his clients
primary concern is very unusual. In most cases, this first criterion of a sessions
success is fulfilled within a few minutes and it is from there, from the locating of the
clients intention (Wolof yeene) or wish (soxla), that the consultation further unfolds.
Second, if another than the identified concern is mentioned by the client, normally the
diviner will take up that trace and follow it for a while, even if he cannot see much in
that direction or feels that the real issues lie elsewhere.48 In this case, however, asked
explicitly by his client about her health condition, Samba Nguer almost seemed to
refuse to deal with this aspect, just repeating that in that regard there was only peace
(jamm rek), i.e. no reason to worry. And, thirdly, the total length of the consultation
was unusual. Her own explanations did not touch upon these points. When I asked her
about her consultation afterwards, she told me that she had been concerned about her
health but Samba Nguer had told her that everything was allright. Later, when she had
left, I asked Nguer about his impressions concerning this consultation. He told to me
that this client had been a regular client for several years and that because of the fact

48
In some cases, there can be a kind of silently acknowledged undercurrent to
consultations, consisting in issues detected by the diviner but which either the client is
unwilling to confirm because of their delicacy, or which the diviner will not adress
explicitly in order not to embarass his client. An issue that may be detected but not further
elaborated upon may for instance be related to children born outside of ones marriage
(concerning both men and women) or the fact that there where a girl or young woman
consults a diviner for a problem related to an engagement or pending marriage
arrangement and the diviner notices in the shells or in the geomantic lay-out that,
physically, the marriage has already been consumated. However, in these cases, the point
that remains unacknowledged is usually not the point that is perceived as problematic by
the client. It is in this regard that the above case is unusual because the issue that the
diviner almost refused to go into is not peripheral but central to the clients own interest.

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that she had been consulting with him for several years, he was quite familiar with her
situation. He explained that her husband had been living in Europe since more than
ten years, only visiting Gambia once a year or may be once every two years. But this
did not mean that she had been abandoned by her husband. He regularly called her on
the phone and send her an allowance through an international money transfer agency
so that she could buy what she needed for her household, such as food, clothes, and
whatever else she might need. However, from time to time, for whatever reason, her
husband would not call as regularly as usual. At these occasions, she would often feel
anxious. In order to know why her husband does not call, but also because of conflicts
in her compound, in the neighbourhood, etc, she would come for divination,
sometimes once a month, sometimes almost every day.
What Nguers explanations seem to suggest, and it is this what is important
about the above example in relation to the question of the dialogic character of
divination and its possible significance for the divinatory encounter as a whole, is that
he did not decide not to enter into a more detailed dialogic consideration of her
health-situation because he had not seen any indications of it, but because he had the
feeling of knowing that the cause of her health complaints were not situated in her
physical condition, or in extra-physical domains such as jinn, or ill-intended
maraboutic action, but in her life-situation, the fact that she lived separate from her
husband, her anxiety when he didnt call her regularly, her psychosocial condition.
Consequently, rather than trying to consider different reasons for her feeling ill just in
order to later deny their validity, he decided not to go into the topic of her health in
order not to give her any reason to further worry about her bodily complaint or about
any underlying causes to it. In other words, Nguer refused a dialogue on the topic of
her health condition because (he thought) he knew that if he would go further into that
issue, it would only increase her anxiety. At the same time, one can also imagine that
Nguers quasi-refusal left his client slightly frustrated and unsatisfied even if she
herself did not mention anything that pointed into that direction.
What does this example of refused dialogue, together with the above
example of a cowrie divination session showing ample evidence of dialogic exchange
between the diviner and his client, tell us about the general significance of dialogue in
Senegambian divinatory praxis? Nguers refusal to dialogize with his client about her

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health condition (a negative actualization of dialogue), had to prevent his client from
continuing to worry over that concern and, at the same time, aimed at maintaining a
certain distance between him and his client that had to underline the authority of his
judgement. In the same way, positive dialogical elements in the divinatory encounter
do not only serve epistemic purposes but motivate the client to further follow certain
lines of reflection and to develop a more personal relationship of trust with the
consulting diviner. Such relationship becomes more personal, not so much by
ignoring or down playing of the hierarchical moments or elements of the diviner-
client relationship, but by constructing an atmosphere of general intersubjective
closeness through listening and responding to the other and recognizing him or her in
his or her personal concerns. In other words, elements or limited realizations of
explicit dialogue in the divinatory encounter can be seen as visible signs of the
fundamentally dialogical character that underlies the divinatory encounter even there
where the only audible speech act is the diviners enunciation. Hermeneutically, and
because of its dialogical character, divination thus shows itself not only as an
instrument for acquiring knowledge, a merely cognitive epistemic device of
subjective knowing, but as a consideration of something through the other.
Understood in such a way, it becomes clear that divination as dialogue always implies
and always partly realizes that what real dialogue usually stands for: a communicative
relationship motivated by a sharing of the concerns of another person, based on and
leading toward mutual recognition and respect, and necessitating the readiness and
openness to listen to and to reconsider ones own thought through the thoughts of the
other. As speaking-to-each-other and aiming at further understanding of certain
shared concerns or issues, dialogue, and with it divination, is not just a cognitively
motivated verbal exchange but rather represents a conjoint relating-to-the-world or
gemeinsames Weltverhalten (Waldenfels 1971: 132-218), a reciprocal mode of being
in-the-world that is never merely instrumental in its effort of understanding but that
simultaneously makes, enhances, and solidifies relations between the persons
engaging into it. In this sense, while clearly concerned with the understanding of and
resolving of individual difficulties, longings, and predicaments, and thus constituting
a fundamentally hermeneutical process, the dialogical character of this process, as a
way of understanding and knowing through the other, also points towards an extra- or

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pre-hermeneutical dimension of divinatory consultation, a dimension of relatedness


that not only concerns understanding as a modality of being-in-the-world but that also
takes into account the intersubjective dimension of being as being-with-others
(Mitsein).

Reflections on the Intersubjective Foundation of the Divinatory Process

In practice, divination always implies an encounter between two persons, client and
diviner, and it is this simple fact that indicates its intersubjective nature. But what is
the possible anthropological significance of this intersubjective dimension of
divination as consultation and dialogue? Or, to formulate the question in a more
provocative way, does the fact that in practice divination implies intersubjective
relatedness with another person have any significance beyond a practical necessity?
The answer to this question is twofold. First, the question itself is partly misleading in
so far as the meaning of a specific cultural practice lies to a large extent within the
experience that it constitutes rather than in functions and finalities beyond it. In other
words, the importance of practice is first of all internal to a practice itself, i.e.
actualizing itself in the immediate unfolding and experiencing of its intrinsic qualities
rather than in its later results or sociofunctional effects (such as the actual achieving
of what one is looking for, greater societal stability, better adaptation to societal or
environmental needs, etc.). Methodologically, such a view on practice entails an
internal or praxeological approach that discloses a particular practice from within,
that is, through its own devices, processes, and perspective or intention (Devisch
1993: 256).49 In the context of a variety of non-European cultural traditions, it has

49
It is interesting to note that in their focus on the intrinsic qualities of cultural practices,
internal or praxeological approaches in anthropology portray the same attention for the
intrinsic properties and qualities of phenomena that has been considered one of the main
characteristics of phenomenological thought since Husserls famous programmatic
insistence on the return of philosophical analysis back to things themselves in his early
Logische Untersuchungen (Wir wollen auf die Sachen selbst zurckgehen. Husserl
1984 [1901]: 10)? a statement that was not meant to advocate to concentrate only on
empirical facts but as an attempt consider objects of experience

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been demonstrated by a number of authors how the intrinsic cultural logic,


meaningfulness, and generative capacity of cultural practices can be brought into
view via the analysis of the oppositional and complementary structures that underlie
and sustain it. This has been shown for different cultural fields such as kinship
relations, cosmologies, ritual, and myth. (Lvi-Strauss 1958 & 1962), the constitution,
construction and structuring effect of cultural habitus and material culture (Bourdieu
1980), and the multifold mediation of meaning and generation of forces through
metaphor in central African healing arts (Devisch 1993 and, specifically in relation to
divination, Devisch 1985b and De Boeck & Devisch 1994). The difficulty in making
use of these and other, similar approaches for the present analysis of the significance
of the intersubjective (and other) dimension(s) of Senegambian divinatory praxis lies
in the fact that in its actual performance Senegambian divination seems to lack
precisely the multifold mediating structural and metaphoric richness that is so
characteristic for the cultural fields discussed by the above authors.50 A further
difficulty lies in the fact that the hermeneutic, dialogic, and intersubjective
dimensions of divination are never made explicit by diviners and their clients. The
difficulty thus lies in explicating where exactly the significance of the intersubjective
does show itself if it is not referred to implicitly in symbol or metaphor, or explicitly
in the explanations of diviners or clients? The only alternative left seems to consist in

(Erfahrungsgegenstnde) as correlative to the ways they they present themselves


(Gegebenheitsweisen), i.e. free from any prior assumptions about their value, reality, etc.
(cf. Husserl 1976: 169). For the epistemological significance of Husserls early Logische
Untersuchungen in general cf. also Moran 2000: 91-123.
50
This is not to say that Senegambian divination is devoid of any specific symbolism. It is
rather that the cultural subject requesting divination appears to be separated from most of
its symbolic repertoire due to what I would call an epistemological gap, a knowledge
divide between client and diviner. Unlike the divination specialist, the client him- or
herself is normally unaware of the symbolic dimensions that underlie the different
divinatory techniques. This is of course not to say that symbolism (the signifier) only
generates meaning in so far as its content (the signified) is consciously understood. The
point here is rather that as long as a signifier (such as, for instance, the prophetic figure
associated with a certain geomantic sign) is not, consciously or unconsciously, perceived
as a signifier, it remains mute and does not become part of the subjects experience.

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even further radicalizing the internal perspective of ones approach and to attempt to
consider the divinatory consultation by describing it simply in the way it directly
manifests itself in practice. This implies a focus on a number of aspects that relate
most closely to the intersubjective dimension of the divinatory encounter as a
concrete interpersonal relation between the diviner and the inquiring subject. In other
words, for lack of further semantic or metaphorical indications, this section attempts
to consider the divinatory encounter in a strictly phenomenological fashion as a
phenomenon, that is, as that what appears or shows itself (phainestai) in its own
evidence. In this regard, at least three different aspects can be distinguished: (1) the
atmosphere of the encounter itself, (2) the potential for recognition and trust entailed
in the divinatory encounter as exemplified in the possibility of developing long lasting
consultational relationships, and (3) the cultural persona of the diviner. In a
temptative final consideration, I will turn to the possible theoretical implications of
the dialogic and intersubjective dimensions of divinatory consultation.

The Atmosphere of the Divinatory Encounter

In Senegal and Gambia, divination is a pronouncedly private event. As


individuals mostly inquire for themselves rather than for a third party (parents,
relatives, co-residents, etc.) there are normally only two and never more than three
persons present at a divination session: the diviner himself, his client, and may be a
friend of the client who accompanies him or her and who will, in many cases, also
consult the diviner himself, either directly after his or her friends consultation has
finished or at a later occasion. While during consultation the issues that form the
clients central concern are referred to as intention (nganiyo), needs or necessities
(hajoo), affairs (kuwool), or wish (lafoo), outside the consultational encounter the
same issues are referred to as his or her secret (kungloo), indicating that the issues for
which one consults a diviner belong to the persons most private affairs. In order to
better understand the degree to which privacy marks the divinatory encounter, I often
asked clients who had agreed to a postconsultational interview if they had, before
coming for divination, talked about or discussed the issues they were concerned about

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with a person other than the diviner. In most cases, people told me that they had not
talked about it with anyone else, either because of the delicacy of the issue (esp. in
case of marital problems, or extra- or pre-marital relationships) or because of their
fear others might interfere with their plans or undertakings (job applications,
marriage, travel/migration, entrepreneurial activities, etc.). This alone clearly
indicates the significance of the divinatory encounter as one of the few if not the only
culturally institutionalized moment in which a persons most intimate concerns are
articulated (even if only silently) and allowed to be considered and commented upon
by another person. In this sense, the divinatory encounter is marked by an atmosphere
of unusual intimacy from the beginning.
The significance of divination as an intimate dialogic and intersubjective
encounter becomes even more palpable if one considers the degree of this reluctance
to share plans with others before actually realizing them. In rural areas where due to
the absence or erraticness of transport travel is still relatively difficult, I often noticed
that people would not announce their intention to travel to, for instance, a to near-by
regional center the next day. Instead, people would just announce it matter-of-factly,
the moment they were actually leaving. The reason for this seemed not to be merely
practical, in the sense that one feared that the transport opportunity that one was
counting on would not offer itself as planned, but seemed to point toward a more
deeply engrained cultural habit. It should also be noted that this habit of keeping
things to oneself does not only concern things yet to be realized but does also extend
to past experiences. For me, one of the most striking examples of this was that,
despite the almost omnipresent concern for travel and migration (cf. Chapter Five),
those who actually had travelled, been to Europe and worked there, never seemed to
share their experience with others, not even with their partners, friends, or younger
relatives. This point was almost unanimously confirmed by both the returned persons
themselves as well as their family members who would often not even know where
exactly the person in question had actually lived and worked abroad, what he had
done there, and how he had experienced that period of his or her live.

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Recognition and Trust in the Divinatory Encounter

As argued in the first chapter of this study, already by deciding to consult a diviner
and by articulating his or her concern on the divinatory instrument, the inquiring
subject already starts to move out of a more subjunctive situation of woundedness
and uncertainty towards a more indicative modality of being-in-the-world. To the
extent that the diviner succeeds to locate and identify the clients concern, the
immediate effect on the client is the impression of having been seen, i.e. having been
recognized by the diviner in his or her full subjective concern as a person with
specific difficulties, expectations, and longings. To the client this identification of his
or her most private concern demonstrates the truth-value of the diviners enunciation,
and will allow him to develop trust in the diviners words as well as the
meaningfulness of the consultational encounter in general. In other words, the
personal significance of the consultation is not just the result of a cultural assumption
of or belief in the efficacy of divinatory procedure but the result of the experience the
truth of divination concretized in the identification and recognition of ones concern
at the beginning of the unfolding interpretative process, and reaffirmed by the further
exploration of his predicament in the unfolding divinatory enunciation. In this sense,
one can see that the value that is attributed to the consultational encounter by the
subject is not absolute but depends upon the degree to which the diviner succeeds not
only to speak about something but to actually respond to the subjects question
(entailed in whatever problem lies at the basis of his or her motivation for
consultation) and thus to speak to the client, i.e. to address him in relation to his or her
own existential concerns, see him, engaging dialogically, offering paths of thought
concerning the development of his or her affairs and indicating the necessary ritual
remedies. In many cases, in so far as the diviner succeeded to divine for his client in a
way that was true and meaningful, the relation of trust that results from this process
will not end with the first consultation but extend into the future, possibly entailing
new consultations and other therapeutic and esoteric services, which may eventually
lead to long lasting consultational relationships that are even maintained in spite of an

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often considerable geographical distance separating both parties.51 While for the
consulting subject the significance of the divinatory encounter evolves out of the
quality of divination to involve him or her in her/his personal intentionality,
concernedness, and specific personal situation, the relationship of recognition and
trust that results from this process must also be carefully maintained by the diviner
himself. This must be achieved not only by successfully executing a specific
divinatory technique but also by answering to a number of important ethic
requirements such as being empathic toward and accessible for his clients, and not to
develop excessive financial demands. These are typical requirements that
characterizee the cultural persona of the diviner/marabout (Mand. moro, Wolof
serigne). As the individual lives up to these requirements, the divinatory space
acquires an important ethical dimension that enhances its consultational and
therapeutic quality.

Cultural and Interpersonal Significance of the Cultural Persona of the Diviner, its
Realization in Practice, and its Consequences

In the previous chapter I argued that what is relevant for the client him- or herself is
neither how divination technically works nor what lies at the basis of the diviners
abilities. Rather, it is the fact that divination constitutes a consultation, an encounter
aiming at providing evaluations of certain existential personal situations as well as
indicating the necessary ritual remedies. Consequently, in order to understand how
divination exactly unfolds its consultational quality and how this process is
experienced by the client, I have argued for an approach concentrating on the

51
A young man in Dakar once told me, for instance, that as long as he could remember his
family uses to consult the same diviner/marabout in Djourbel, a regional center ca. 150km
east of Dakar. Karamba Faty, my host in the Casamance, and himself a geomantic diviner
and marabout, also maintained a close working relationship with clients for which he had
first worked in Dakar but which, in the meantime, had migrated to Belgium. This long
distance consultational relationship did not only entail regular contact by telephone but
also sending protective amuletts (safeo) to Brussels by post and money transfer from
Brussels back to Senegal.

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inquiring subject rather than on the person of the diviner, questions of divinatory
method, or the possible nature of the diviners divinatory abilities. In other words, in
order to be able to acknowledge and analyze the significance of the consultational and
experiential value of divination rather than its epistemic properties and connotations,
the person of the diviner had to be (temporarily) bracketed. What we see now,
however, is that the diviner, although almost irrelevant for the clients experience of
divination in terms of his technical knowledge and specialist expertise, must be re-
included in the analysis as the dialogic and intersubjective Other without whom there
would be no dialogical or intersubjective relation in the first place. In other words,
because the cultural persona as well as the individuality of the diviner is experienced
as significant by the client, he constitutes another important aspect of the
hermeneutical and performative cultural space engendered in the divinatory
encounter. As a consequence, the diviner must be reconsidered not in terms of his
knowledge or abilities but in terms of his contribution to a highly valued interpersonal
encounter.
Concerning the meaning and main characteristics of the cultural persona of
the diviner at least three dimensions can be distinguished. On the one hand, diviners
are generally associated with Arabic literacy and a certain corpus of Islamic esoteric
knowledge (the so called sciences of the secrets, Arab. ulum al-asrar) reaching
from divination to the writing of powerful texts and diagrams for protective amulets
(safo) and nasoo, solutions of powerful verses and diagrams with both protective and
therapeutic properties. In this regard, almost independent of the actual level of
religious learnedness and familiarity with the key works of the Islamic literary
tradition, the diviner is usually seen and sees himself as a ritual specialist operating
within the Islamic tradition. He is usually addressed with the same terms of respect
used for the religiously learned person or members of maraboutic families (moro in
Mandinka, serigne in Wolof, or tierno in Pular). As a cultural signifier, the
diviner/marabout is not only the factual mediator of the divinatory pronouncement but
also its symbolic center, the link between the divinatory agents (cowrie shells,
geomantic signs, spirit entities associated with these objects) and, ultimately, God, on

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the one hand, and the inquiring subject, on the other.52 For the individual diviner, this
does not only imply status but also entails ethic requirements such as respect and
openness to people from different layers of society, as well as readiness to help (even
for little or no payment), modesty, etc. These requirements represent, of course,
ideals. The degree to which they are realized by the diviner and by marabouts who
also play a more public role in the congregational life of a certain community,
depends of course upon the character and personal circumstances of the individual
diviner.53 In any case, the divinatory encounter will be measured by the client against
these ethical standards and the more the diviner is able to live up to them, the more
likely it is that the encounter can unfold its full dialogical potential and be
experienced as an important moment of recognition, trust, and intersubjective
nearness. Divination, in this sense, is not just an epistemic operation but is phronesis,
a moral activity that implies, as Michael Lambek writes in relation to spirit
mediumship in Madagascar, dignity and self-respect as central aspects of human
practice (Lambek 2002: 16). In other words, the quality and efficaciousness of the

52
In this regard, it may even be argued that the diviner himself maybe forms the main
symbolic structure of the divinatory encounter, as an intermediary between different
orders of reality such as the hidden and the seen, the known and unknown, the present and
the future. In an extensive study of the notion of the cosmic tree as an underlying
symbolic structure of North African and sub-saharan West African mythology, esoterism,
material culture, ritual, and religion, Viviana Pques has argued that the ritual and
therapeutic significance of the figure of the marabout precisely lies in his embodiment of
that primordial cosmic tree that represents the pivotal symbolic nexus from where live
springs up and from where it can be restored and regenerated (cf. Pques 1964: especially
671-676).
53
In this context, it is interesting to note that in contrast to the importance that is
commonly attributed to the consultation and religious role of marabouts in practice,
television soap operas abundantly feature false marabouts who unscrupulously exploit
their clients. Cases of conscious fraud and exploitation can probably not be excluded.
Abuse of power and trust are universal phenomena. It must however be emphasized that
the majority of diviners that I met appeared to be trustworthy persons who were trying to
help their clients with their ritual knowledge and abilities rather than abusing their trust.

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divinatory encounter do not only depend upon the veracity of its interpretations and
predictions but equally upon its interpersonal, ethical, and empathic qualities.54

Theoretical Consequences of the Dialogic and Intersubjective Dimensions of


Divinatory Consultation

Although the force of the divinatory encounter can best be located in the way the
divinatory process relates to, draws upon, and responds to certain a priori,
phenomenological dimensions of experience such as intentionality, lifewordliness,
and time (cf. infra), the quality of the divinatory encounter is not pregiven but unfolds
through a hermeneutic and moral praxis that involves both client and diviner in their
cultural and subjective presence as persons, and not just as actors or protagonists in a
predetermined ritual script. In a way, this was already indicated by the fact that
divination demands the inquiring subject to articulate his or her most urgent
existential concerns and thus to enter actively into the process of solution finding,
self-realization, and healing that forms the central reasons of the divination in the
Senegambian context (cf. Chapter One). In the present chapter we have seen how the
divinatory encounter engages the subject in a complex hermeneutic process leading to
a new and more encompassing horizon of understanding through the consideration of
the divinatory enunciations and how this process is, from its very beginning,
embedded into a dialogical relationship between client and diviner. Furthermore, it
has been argued that the dialogical nature of the divinatory process indicates its
intersubjective constitution. Strictly speaking, the intersubjective dimension of
divination announces itself already before the actual articulations of dialogue
(beginning with the silent articulation of ones intentional concerns and the first
divinatory enunciations pronounced by the diviner), in so far as the decision to

54
In many divinatory traditons the diviners initiation is precursed by a period of crisis
often involving sleeplessness or intense dreaming, signs of mental illness, or other
symptoms. Could it be that it is during these periods of crisis that the diviner
unconsciously acquires, through the experiencing or suffering of his or her own
vulnerability, the basis of the empathic sensibility and receptiveness that is necessary for
divining the moments of crisis, uncertainties, and longings of others?

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approach and consult a diviner already leads the subject to leave the realm of self-
enclosed reflection and move into a more intersubjective realm of relating to others.
In this sense, the actual encounter can be understood as the continuation of the
subjects initial decision for divinatory consultation as a possibility to deal with his or
her expectations, longings, difficulties, etc. Therefore, the intersubjective, dialogical
quality of the consideration of the clients situation through divinatory procedure is
not something that happens to the inquiring subject incidentally but something the
subject is actively looking for and counting on. At the same time, it is clear that the
dialogical qualities do not only apply to divination but can also be found, in different
degrees, in other dialogical situations such as personal conversations with friends,
relatives, or between husband and wife, disciples and persons of religious authority,
etc. Nevertheless, in the Senegambian context, divination seems to provide a
particularly valued and privileged space. In so far as dialogue, concern, and the
willingness to consider the other and his or her difficulties, ambitions, or afflictions
are not exclusive to the divinatory space but can also be realized in other personal
encounters or relationships, one may wonder to which degree the intersubjective
dialogic dimension, however significant in each concrete case, can really be
considered as intrinsic to divination? An important hint to answer that question came
to my attention only by chance.
One day in February 2004, while I was working with Samba Diallo at his
village in the Middle Casamance, some 20 km south of my host village, one of the
clients happened to be a marabout (moro) whom I had met the year before in the
course of a number of research excursions on traditional forms of psychiatric healing.
My visit to the marabout in question had not been very productive: the treatment of
the mentally ill had been a speciality of his father who had died a few months before
and neither he nor his brother had yet decided to follow in their fathers footsteps.
However, we discussed the way his father used to treat his patients. One of the things
he mentioned was that before the start of treatment his would execute a diagnosis of
his patients situation by means of geomancy. When I asked him if he had learned
from his father how to do that he showed me some of the geomantic calculations he
had made at earlier occasions, telling me that although rarely dealing with cases of

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mental illness he would regularly use geomancy to consult for other people in other
matters.
When Samba Diallo told him that I was studying cowrie divination with him
and would like to witness the consultation they were about to begin, laughingly, he
refused my presence at first, because of the fact that I knew him from that earlier
occasion, and could tell other people of his affairs (kuwool). Thereupon I asked him
why he consulted a diviner in the first place, for he himself regularly divined for
others and could thus use his own divinatory abilities in order to inquire about the
issues that concerned him. He replied that one could not divine for oneself and that
even an experienced diviner would have to consult another specialist in order to
inquire about his affairs, just like everyone else. Samba Diallo, sensing my surprise,
confirmed that he also asked the assistance of another diviner when he had issues to
deal with that needed consultation. While no further explanations were offered as to
the question why exactly a diviner could not divine for himself, the fact that diviners
consider this impossible and openly admit and accept an important limitation of their
own expertise, indicates that intersubjective, dialogic relating to another person is not
contingent to divination but forms its very foundation. What does thisindicate? How
does this insistence on the intersubjective and dialogic in Senegambian divinatory
praxis relate to notions such as nganiyo, sondomoo, or niitooroo that form the
underlying motivational structure of the divinatory encounter? And what are the
possible theoretical consequences of this for our understanding of inter/subjectivity,
not only in divination but in any field of social and cultural praxis?
The final difficulty here lies of course in the fact that the question of the
exact nature of subjectivity and intersubjectivity (as well as the question of the exact
nature of the relation between these two dimensions of human existence) represents
one of the most difficult and still unsolved problems not only in the social sciences
but also in philosophy and in psychoanalysis. Furthermore, it may even be argued that
terms such as subjectivity and intersubjectivity should be avoided altogether precisely
because they represent a metaphysical tradition of thought that tends to project
divisions into the nature of human being that are not intrinsic to human being as such
but are the result of the subject-object-dichotomy implied in its own egological

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terminology. 55 Given the complexity of the problem, it should not come as a surprise
that the description of certain properties of divinatory praxis does not provide definite
answers to any of the above questions. It is rather that divination, by insisting on the
importance of relating to another person, and by the fact that the divinatory encounter
itself is fundamentally shaped by this interpersonal and dialogical relation, underlines
the importance of these questions and allows to address certain aspects of the
subjectivity/intersubjectivity problematic in relation to a concrete phenomenon.
The analysis of the significance of the notion of nganiyo as an indication of
the intentional dimension of the divinatory process on the one hand, and the
geomantic conceptualization of the subjects longings, desires, or wishes as being
rooted in a condition of subjective woundedness (niitooroo) on the other,
demonstrated that the divinatory process specifically aims at the healing and
empowerment of an afflicted person as an individual. It does not approach the person
only as part of a larger societal whole. In this regard, divination responds to the
subjects own self-experience as a bearer of personal agency, subjectivity, and
concerns. However, what the insistence on consultation in Senegambian divination
seems to suggest is that the autonomy and self-sufficiency of the subject is vulnerable
and not amounting to a full autarchy of the subject. It is because of this intersubjective
dependency of subjectivity that there where the limits of autonomy are reached in
confrontation with existential decisions, difficulties, or uncertainties, the subject has
to relate to another person in order to regain its ability to act, to further pursue his or
her plans, and to regain confidence in his or her personal situation, project or crisis
which necessitate ritual remedies identified through divinatory inquiry. In moments of
existential decisions or crisis the ability to act, self-confidence, and other essential
components of subjective ontological security, cannot be maintained or re-achieved

55
It is precisely for this reason that Heidegger always avoided the use of the term subject
and replaced it by the ontologically less predefined notion of Dasein. However, no term is
free of the epistemic connotations and predefinitions that it is meant to overcome and it is
due to this embeddedness in prior ways of thought and prereflective conceptualizations
that Heidegger could not use the term Dasein (lit. being there or there-being) without
emphasizing that the prefix Da- was not meant to indicate the presence of being as
substance but the existential state of exposedness and openness (Erschlossenheit) (cf.
Heidegger 1991 [1927]: 89-101, 130-134).

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without relating to a person another than oneself. 56 What divination seems to suggest,
therefore, is not that agency, subjectivity, and individual self-consciousness do not
exist but that that his or her psychosocial health, ontological security and autonomy
ultimately depend and rely on the active relating and being related to by others.
In this regard, divination entails an insight into the nature of subjectivity that
goes beyond the insight into the intersubjective constitution of the subjects lifeworld
as a world of co-existence or Mitwelt as it has been described by Husserl, Heidegger,
Schtz, and other phenomenologists. Rather, Senegambian divinatory praxis seems to
point in a similar direction as the philosophy of dialogue of Buber and others, for
whom the essential aspect is not only that the subjects lifeworld is intersubjective in
the sense of implying the existence of others, but that the integrity of the subject and
subjectivity itself depend upon a dialogic dimension of relatedness, recognition, and
mutuality without which subjectivity cannot exist or would run the danger of ending
in isolation, conflict, and existential crisis.57

56
For the notion of ontological (in-)security cf. Laing 1990 [1960]: especially 39-61.
57
The most encompassing investigation of the social ontology of intersubjectivity and
dialogue is still Theunissen 1977 (1965). For a more comprehensive overview of dialogic
philosphy cf. Schrey 1983.

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Chapter Four
Divination and Time

Introduction

In the preceding chapters I have argued that the meaningfulness of the divinatory
inquiry rests upon its ability to respond to the clients existential concerns. This
process of response entails the identification of (the nature of) the clients intentional
concern (Chapter One), the articulation of these findings in resonance with the
subjects sociocultural lifeworld (Chapter Two), and the recognition of the subject
within a consultational relationship characterized by dialogical and intersubjective
nearness (Chapter Three). All three dimensions contribute significantly to the
experiential quality of the divinatory encounter. Opening up a meaningful cultural
space for approaching personal concerns and predicaments, the intentional,
resonating, and dialogic dimensions of the divinatory encounter together constitute
the intersubjective setting in which the divinatory enunciation unfolds. The question
that remains is that of the working of the actual content of the enunciation: what is it
primarily concerned with and what is its effect?
In the anthropological literature different forms of divination are often
classified according to their epistemic direction as being either prospective or
retrospective (cf. infra). On a descriptive level, the distinction between prospective
and retrospective forms of divination reflects the mostly overt intention of both client
and diviner to gain insight, through the divinatory procedure, into the nature, cause,
realization, or outcome of future or past events. In the Senegambian context,
divination is primarily concerned with the future development and realization of
specific intentional concerns and thus pronouncedly prospective. Its purpose is
twofold: First, to gain insight into and assess the content and probability of future
events and developments. And second, to find out which ritual remedies the person
should use in his or her situation in order to overcome his or her difficulties and to
achieve what he or she is looking for. The questions or concerns underlying the
inquiry, silently pronounced upon the divinatory paraphernalia at the beginning of the
Chapter 4

consultation, clearly reflect this concern for what lies ahead in time: Will I find work?
Will my child recover from his illness? Is it the right time to marry and do I have the
right person in mind for this marriage? Will I be able to go abroad and will I be able
to make it there? These are questions that everybody asks eventually but they have a
particular currency in the Senegambian context where salaried work remains rare and
the economic situation of most people is experienced as precarious, where regular
biomedical care remains unaffordable for many people, and where especially young
men are increasingly convinced that migration is might be the only way to get ahead
in life. In regard to this prospective temporal orientation, Senegambian divination
seems to differ from divinatory traditions in southern and central African contexts
where divination has been described as being primarily concerned with the inquiry
into the causes of past events and present conditions, such as the sudden death of a
relative, conditions of persisting illness or infertility, accidents, or other events or
conditions suspected to have been caused by other than natural causes, especially by
witchcraft. However, in the Senegambian context as well the divinatory inquiry
sometimes includes the question of what has caused a certain condition, as attested by
the case of the student described in the preceding chapter who, apart from being
concerned with how to overcome the illness that he felt impeded him from succeeding
in his studies, also expressed his wish to know what had caused that condition.
The possible temporal scope of the divinatory inquiry was explicitly referred
to by Yafay Man, another of the diviners specializing in geomancy with whom I had
the chance to work. After executing the necessary calculations and considering the
geomantic lay-out, he used to start the enunciation of the results of his inquiry into his
clients condition with the following introductory formula:

Example 4.1: Introductory formula used in geomantic consultation by Yafay Man,


Medina Souane, Casamance. (First documented in May 2003)

Jubeeroo mu kuu saba le ti: Divination consists of three things:


i be meng kono, that what you are in [the present situation
a ning meng tambita, and that what has passed,
a ning meng be naa. and that what is coming.

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Divination and Time

Illustration 4.1: Yafay Man executing a geomantic consultation.

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Chapter 4

This introductory formula makes clear that, although Senegambian divination is


primarily concerned with the development of the subjects situation in the future and
aims at identifying the necessary ritual remedies, as an instrument of inquiry and way
of knowing, it is not limited to the past or the future but encompasses all three
dimensions of time: past, future, and present. What makes it prospective is, in other
words, not the method itself but its use.
Independently of its predominant use in a specific cultural context, the
classification of divinatory practices in retro- and prospective forms shows that in its
attempt to assess and understand the nature and causalities of past events, or to
foresee the developments of the future, epistemologically, divination fundamentally
aims at overcoming the (spatio)temporal limitations that characterize every day, non-
divinatory modes of perception. At the same time, it is clear that the reason for the
predominantly prospective or retrospective use of divination in different sociocultural
contexts is not arbitrary but results from culturally defined concerns and
temporalities. It is not the result of differences in terms of the technical or
methodological properties of a specific method but of the temporal direction of the
existential concerns most frequently articulated in a given sociocultural context. From
this it becomes clear that in modifying and/or extending our epistemic relation
towards the flow of time, divinatory praxis fundamentally deals with and must be
understood in terms of its time-related properties.
Drawing on a phenomenological rather than linear, Newtonian understanding
of time, I will argue that in its attempt to make predictions concerning the future
development of the clients situation, Senegambian divination is in itself
chronopoetic, time-making, shaping the subjects time consciousness, and thereby
transforming the present. Subsequently, I will analyze the consequences of the
chronopoetic quality of divinatory praxis as an experience of hope. In that context, it
will be argued that divination creates not only hope on an individual level but,
together with other practices such as that of supplicative prayer (duwaa) and the
distribution of charity (sadaa), contributes to the construction of a cultural space of
hope and prospect that shapes the sociocultural temporality of society as a whole (cf.
Graw, forthcoming). As a consequence of its encompassing ability to transform the
experience of the present and the lifeworld as it is lived by the individual subject,

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Divination and Time

divinatory praxis should not only be viewed as an instrument of knowledge


production or a process of solution-finding for a variety of individual and family-
related problems. Instead, divination should be understood as a cultural praxis which,
on the one hand, enables the cultural subject to approach and deal with situations of
existential concern durings ones course of life (illness, death, marriage, infertility,
etc.), and which, on the other hand, allows the cultural subject to apprehend and
counter the socioeconomic possibilities and alterations of the (globalizing)
contemporary lifeworld. With regard to the latter dimension, the centrality of the issue
of migration in divination is paradigmatic. Migration, referred to during divination as
the path of travel (tamaa siloo) or simply the path (siloo), surfaced in many of the
consultations I witnessed. Today, especially for male clients, the issue of migration is
one of the most frequent reasons for divinatory consultation. Given its current
importance as an exemplary object of divinatory inquiry and consultation, the issue of
travel will form the main topic of the following chapter (Chapter 5). The more
general analysis of the significance of the prospective, time-related dimensions of
divination which will be dealt with in this chapter is preceded by a short survey of
earlier consideration of time in the anthropological study of divination.

Considerations of Time and Temporality in the Anthropological Study of


Divination

In general, despite of the overt intention of divination to assess and understand the
nature and causalities of past events or to foresee the developments of the future (and
the herein implied link between divinatory intention and time that forms the
underlying reason for the classification of divinatory practices in retro- and
prospective forms), time and temporality have generally not been used as main
categories of analysis in the existing literature on divination. In order to get a clearer
view of the way in which the notion of time has been used I will briefly discuss three
classic studies on divination in Sub-Saharan Africa which are representive for most of
the existing literature in terms of their respective treatment of time.

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Chapter 4

In his famous description of the Azande poison oracle, Evans-Pritchard


(1976 [1937]), for instance, presents a list of 30 typical occasions of divinatory
consultation, ranging from questions of infertility to political decision making, in
which the consultation of the poison oracle is obligatory in social and/or legal terms.
At all occasions the consultation of the oracle either serves to discover the cause or
agent responsible for a past event (misfortune, death, sorcery, adultery etc.) or to
provide a directive for future action (marriage, travel, taking residence, warfare etc.).
Although Evans-Pritchard does not deal with the time-related aspects of divination as
such, it is clear from the data that he presents that the Azande poison oracle entails
both retrospective and prospective modalities and thus is manifestly characterized by
a transtemporal divinatory intention.
In another of the few book-size studies of divination in sub-Saharan Africa,
Eugene Mendonsa notes that Sisala divination in northern Ghana can be seen as a
means of retrospective investigation into the intentions of the ancestors. In Sisala
etiology these are held to be the causative agents of a persons misfortune or affliction
(Mendonsa 1982: 79ff.). Mendonsa thus explicitly points to the retrospective capacity
of Sisala divination and strongly emphasizes the centrality of the concept of time for
the Sisala etiology of misfortune in general. Due, however, to his primarily
(structural-) functionalist orientation the time-aspect seems to be relegated to a
background cosmology rather than explicated as a central reason for its performative
capacity.
The time-related aspects of divination receive a more explicit treatment in
the work of Victor Turner. Turner identifies divination as part of a larger social
drama in which it serves to formulate the decisive retrospective narrative upon which
the final redressive ritual action can be based. Turners understanding of divination as
an analysis of past events that has to lead to future action in which the initial moment
of crisis can be resolved clearly indicates the meaning of divination as an axis in the
present from which past and future spring up. Turners analysis, however, remains
unsatisfactory because, in the end, he infers the significance and efficacy of the
divinatory process from the efficacy of the postsequent ritual action rather than from
the performativity of the divinatory process itself. Rather than identifying divination
as a moment of origin it is seen as one of several phases that make up the larger

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Divination and Time

complex of the social drama. This perspective, although correct from a processual
functionalist point of view, fails to explain why divination remains significant and is
regularly referred to even when the ethnographic data show that the final redressive
action that follows the divinatory verdict often fails to resolve the initial crisis and
will only form one step in a much longer search for reconciliation and consensus (De
Boeck 1991 and De Boeck & Devisch 1994: 107-110). More specifically, Turners
analysis fails to offer a clear understanding of the performative and generative
dimensions of divination. His treatment of the temporal aspects is based upon a linear
Newtonian and objectivist notion of time rather than a phenomenological one. In
Turners perspective, time appears as the background in front of which the social
drama is enacted, the a priori foil upon which the divinatory script inscribes itself.
From a phenomenological perspective, however, time is not just an objective
sequence or process during which individual and social actions unfold. Rathers, time
itself is understood as originating from the subjects intentional relation with his
environment (cf. Merleau-Ponty 1945: 469-472).

Divination and the Phenomenology of Time

The challenge of the present chapter consists primarily in explicating a


phenomenological understanding of time that allows to grasp the significance of the
prospective dimensions of Senegambian divinatory praxis (and the time-related
dimensions of divination in general) not just as an episode in a larger social process
but in its immediate significance for the subject as a means of prospect. In order to
develop a more encompassing understanding of the chronopoetic, time-making
dimensions of divination I will first look at Husserls analysis of internal time
consciousness and then turn to Heideggers reflections on the ontological dimension
of human temporality in Sein und Zeit. The aim of this is not, however, to present an
overview, let alone a study of the phenomenology of time as such but simply to
consider the phenomenological properties of time in their implications for the
understanding of the generative, integrative, and transformative working of divinatory
praxis.

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Chapter 4

Divination and the Phenomenology of Time Consciousness

Already in 1889, Henri Bergson criticized the philosophical tradition for applying an
objective notion of time, derived from the natural sciences. For him, this was a
fundamental misjudgement of the nature of human reality. In contrast to prior
conceptualizations, Bergson strongly advocated an approach originating in the
subjective experience of time. Time, in his view, had primarily to be understood as
duration (dure), a continuous change of phenomena that is not perceived as a simple
sequence of events but as the very essence of what is immediately present to the
human being in perception and experience (cf. Bergson 1949/50 [orig. 1889]: 1-157).
The first in-detail analysis of the subjective experience of time is executed by
Husserl in his Vorlesungen zur Phnomenologie des innneren Zeitbewusstseins
(Lectures on the Phenomenology of the Internal Consciousness of Time), written
between 1905 and 1917 and first published in 1928 (Husserl 1980 [1928]). In these
lectures, Husserls analysis moves into two directions: first, the possibility of the
perception of temporal objects, and second, the twofold quality of consciousness as
time constituting subjectivity and as self-appearing constituted stream of
consciousness, in itself perceived as a temporal object (cf. Bernet/Kern/Marbach
1996: 96-107). Concerning the possibility of the perception of temporal objects,
Husserl compares the experience of listening to a melody with the often used model
that represents time as an arrow pointing toward an undetermined future and
consisting of an interminable sequence of points of presences (Jetztpunkte), each of
which is preceded and followed by another separate Jetztpunkt. How is it possible that
a sequence of separate moments of time is perceived as a continuous process, that a
sequence of separate distinguishable tones can be perceived as a melody? Prior
psychological models had explained this experiencing of objects in a continuous flow
of time rather than in isolated points of presence as a product of reproductive and
productive fantasy (Phantasie), a continuous remembering and expecting of
separate moments of time. Against this model of re- and pre-constructed moments of
time Husserl places his model of an original field of time (originres Zeitfeld) in
which the present already encompasses past and future in a continous motion of
retention and protention; Temporal objects within this field of time, therefore, are not

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Divination and Time

constructed afterwards or before but directly experienced, not fantasized but


perceived. From this original field of time (which can be understood in analogy to the
visual field that allows the perception of space) emerges an extended present whose
borders are not defined by a sequence of temporal intervals but characterized by a
continous process of sinking away (Absinken) and rising up (Aufsteigen). What are the
implications of this phenomenological notion of time for the analysis of the
prospective dimension of Senegambian divinatory praxis?
Husserls analysis of the constitution of subjective time consciousness shows
that, from a phenomenological perspective, time is not a sequence of separate
moments in time but an a priori mode of consciousness in which the past and the
future are an integral part of the present. Although the example of the possibility of
hearing a series of sounds as a melody rather than as a sequence of separate tones
shows that Husserls analysis is primarily concerned with the question of the
experience of reality as a continuity in the immediate present, I would argue that the
temporality implied in more explicitly anticipatory and reflective modes of being-in-
the-world such as desire, longing, hope, or the making of personal plans is analogous
to the temporal structure of immediate experience as described by Husserl. In the
same way as an act of perception is embedded in past and future by retention and
protention, our conscious understanding of the present, our life, and personal situation
are always embedded in time by memory and expectation, that is, in how we
understand what has happened, and how we relate to and imagine that what might
happen in the future. Thefuture, understood in such a way, is always subject-related
and can only be experienced as something we imagine, hope, or fear will happen, not
as a neutral or objective event.58 Looked at from such a perspective, it becomes clear
that the immediate significance of divination is not primarily a question of whether
the diviners predictions will actually realize themselves in the future but must be
located in the ways divination impacts upon and shapes the subjects view of the
future as an integral part of his or her present situation and subjective being-in-the-
world, and by doing so effectively transforms the present. The significance of this
transformative prospective capacity of the divinatory encounter becomes even clearer

58
In fact, at the very moment that what lies ahead of us actually starts to be experienced as
an event, it cedes to be future and becomes direct present.

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Chapter 4

if we look at time and its basic modalities (past, present, and future) not only as a
structure of consciousness but, as Heidegger suggested, as a structure of Dasein, or, in
other words, of subjectivity itself.

Divination and Existence

In a footnote to Sein und Zeit Heidegger writes that intentionality (understood as the
encompassing structure of relating to the world that, according to Husserl, underlies
all consciousness) is itself grounded in the ecstatic temporality of Dasein
(Heidegger 1993 [1927]: 363).59 For the rest, Heidegger avoids the term
intentionality in Sein und Zeit because of its affinity to the egological terminology of
Descartes and Kant. Instead he speaks of care (Sorge), being-at (Sein-bei), in-
being (In-Sein), and being-in-the-world (in-der-Welt-sein) in order to describe and
terminologically grasp our own situated subjective being not just as a locus of
cognition but as an openness to the world, or, in Heideggers own words, as Dasein
(literally the mode of being-there or being-present).60 Care is understood as an
ontological structure that, according to Heidegger characterizes Dasein as a whole. In
this regard it is comparable to Husserls notion of intentionality. But unlike the notion
of intentionality which, due to its Cartesian overtones, can be easily misunderstood as
an almost a-temporal, static, vectorial conceptualization of consciousness, Heidegger
emphasizes that the notion of care entails a specific temporality, grounded in the
future. In a highly condensed phrase, Heidegger argues that the ontological
wholeness of Dasein as care means: already-being-ahead-of-oneself-in (a world) as
being-at (that what is encountered in the world) (Heidegger 1993 [1927]: 327)61.
What is meant by that is that the way we deal with reality and go about our daily
affairs always implies and is motivated by a certain notion of the meaning or purpose

59
Cf. also the last footnote to the first chapter of this study.
60
For the identification of subjective being and Dasein cf. Heideggers own
terminological clarification in the beginning of Sein und Zeit: Dieses Seiende, das wir
selbst je sind (), fassen wir terminologisch als Dasein. (Heidegger 1993 [1927]: 7).
61
Die Seinsganzheit des Daseins als Sorge besagt: Sich-vorweg-schon-sein-in (einer
Welt) als Sein-bei (innerweltlich begegnendem Seienden).

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Divination and Time

of the action we engage in. This is not to be mistaken as a utilitarian view of being, as
if every act must be informed or evaluated in terms of its direct practical usefulness.
Rather, the groundedness of care in the future refers to the fact that even the simplest
conscious act entails direction, purposefulness, and a notion of its possible outcome.
In this sense Dasein is always being in relation to possibility. And it is because of this
being in terms of possibilities rather than absolute determinations that already in the
beginning of Sein und Zeit Heidegger speaks of Dasein as the form of being that is
characterized by a concern for its own being.62 The significance of this notion of
Dasein as a form of being concerned with its own possibilities and grounded in the
subjects future for the understanding of the existential significance of the prospective
dimension of Senegambian divinatory praxis is at least threefold: First of all,
Heideggers ontological reflections on the ecstatic, future-related temporality of
Dasein make us understand that, in its attempt to gain insight into the subjects
personal future, and to indicate ritual measures allowing the subject to overcome his
predicament and realize his personal aspirations, Senegambian divination relates to
one of the most fundamental dimensions of human existence. Second, and more
specifically, the notions of Dasein as possibility, and of care as an existential structure
grounded in the future, indicate that, in as far as the realization of possibilities can be
reflected upon in advance but never be known with certainty, divination represents a
specific epistemological and cultural technique to deal with the contingencies that are
necessarily part of our lifes. And third, the foundation or grounding of Dasein in the
future as well as the corresponding notion of possibility indicate that life is not a
natural process but has to be led actively by each person him-or herself. Furthermore,
the openness and general indeterminacy that, according to Heidegger, characterizes
our existence, in daily life, not only implie but also necessitate care in the sense of
taking care of ones affairs, taking decisions, and starting to act. In this regard,
Heideggers notion of the ecstatic temporality of Dasein as possibility also provides
an ontological explanation for the diviners insistence upon the clients own
decidedness as a condition for overcoming his or her predicaments, and for realizing
personal goals (cf. the respective explanation by Karamba Faty in the previous

62
Das Dasein () ist dadurch ontisch ausgezeichnet da es diesem Seienden in seinem
Sein um dieses Sein selbst geht. (Heidegger 1993 [1927]: 12)

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Chapter 4

chapter). In short, Heideggers insistence that the meaning of being is fundamentally


related to time, allows us to understand in turn, that divination as a time-related and
time-making praxis is not just about knowledge, cultural representations, or social
processes but fundamentally about life, existence, ones personal future, personal
trajectories, biography, overcoming obstacles, the praxis of struggle, imagination, and
creativity. This concern for the concrete existential situation of the advice-seeking
subject is also reflected in the fact that the future (saama, lit. tomorrow) is hardly ever
referred to as such. Instead, future is implied in the tense of the divinatory
enunciation, its predictions, ritual remedies, and behavioural recommendations. As a
result, the notion most frequently used in Senegambian divinatory praxis in relation to
what lies ahead in time is not future (samaa) as such but the notion of
advancement (nyaatotaa), a notion directly relating to the inquring subjects
intentional concern and indicating its positive development.

Nyaatotaa: Advancement as Object of Divinatory Inquiry and Personal


Aspiration

Composed out of nyaato, in front of or before, and ka taa, to go, literally, nyaatotaa
simply refers to what lies ahead in time. In practice, however, nyaatotaa not just
refers to a likely future event but indicates a positive change of affairs, an increasing
realization of individual goals, improvement, and progress. Given its usual translation
by Francophone Mandinka-speakers as lavancement, and the emphasis on individual
self-realization entailed in it, the notion of nyaatotaa, seems to embody an
understanding of subjectivity and time that is not commonly associated with non-
European or pre-industrial cultural contexts but with the emergence of the notion of
an autonomous self and linear compartmentalized time in the West. In this regard, it is
tempting to consider the idea whether the notion of nyaatotaa, rather than
representing a cultural notion specifically Mandinka or West African, is perhaps a
neologism. A neologism, coined to refer to a new logic of selfhood and relating to the
world which was maybe not unknown but which gained an unknown momentum in
the confrontation of individual and society with the cultural changes caused by (1) the

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Divination and Time

marginalisation and suppression of endogenous ways of life and their corresponding


psychosocial structures by colonialism, (2) the emphasis on the person as citizen in
the early aftermath of independence and the promises of political agency that this
entailed, (3) the continuing hegemony of ideological notions such as development and
modernization, and (4) the psychosocial dynamics engendered by economic
marginalisation and cultural globalisation today. While I lack specific evidence that
would allow me to confirm or to disprove the hypothesis of the neologic character of
the notion of nyaatotaa as such, the content of divinatory consultations as well as the
statements made by several diviners indicate that the reasons and motivations for
consultation today must be understood in relation to the afore mentioned dynamics of
cultural change and their influence upon subjectivity. The clearest statement in this
regard came from Al Hadji Siss, a Mandinka marabout and Islamic scholar from
Gambia.

Example 4.2: Explanations on the motivational background of contemporary


divination praxis by Al Hadji Siss, Karantabaa Dutoo Koto, Gambia, February 2003.

[haajool] si fata dulaa dool to, [Peoples needs,] they may differ at some
occasions [lit. places],
dulaa dool to si ke kiling ti. at other occasions they may be the same
[as in the past].
Baawo meng na haajoo, Hence, someones need,
doo be jee wola there are some
ning a naata juubeeroo la who come for divination
wo ka tara jankaroo be a baloo kono. because of an illness in their body.
Wo jankaroo, That illness,
wo anta jaaraa la ameng. the way it should be treated.
Yoo, Ok,
wo ning nunto ta, and this illness,
a be kiling. it is the same [as in the past].
Yoo, bari bii i baa jela dool be naa, Ok, but today you will see others coming,
a feng baa ka naa aadi le? how do they come?
Nte la samaa, My future [lit. tomorrow],
a munta like
mbe mune ke noo la saama? what will I be able to do in the future?
Nna soto be aadi le? How can I obtain (something)?

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Chapter 4

I ko, You say,


Nna saama anta beteyaa noo la aadi How can I make my future to be good?
le?
Jamaa ka naa wo le saaying. Now, many come for that (kind of
question).
Nna palaasoo My place [i.e. my employment],
anta lafaa la aadi le, how should it be obtained,
nanta taala Europe aadi le or how can I go to Europe, or
nte anta mune ke la fo nsi kodoo, what can I do to obtain money,
ning Allah si taa mmantabeng, with Gods help,
noo nga kodoo soto? to be able to obtain money?
Saaying moo feng baa la kuwo Now, the affair [in the sense of interest or
concern] of the majority of people
ka tara wo le to. is located in that (area).

According to Al Hadji Siss account, while cases of illness form an important reason
for divination today as much as in the past, he clearly observes that a shift of concern
towards issues specifically related to the conditions of the current globalizing
postcolonial world such as work, money, and migration. After having characterized
the situation in this way, he also adds an explanation as to what were the primary
concerns of people in the past:

Nunto i baa jela, Before, you would have seen


nunto alifaalu, before, the elders,
wolu, they,
feng baa be jee wolu the majority of them,
ning be taala mooroo yaa, if they consult a marabout,
wolu buka kuu jamaa ininkaa. they do not ask a lot of (different) things.
I ka tara kuu fula le nooma rek: They ask only for two things:
Ning nko ing If I speak, that (person) .
ka fo, They say,
mooroo ye nna kuwol juube. Mooroo [marabout, here used as a title],
divine [lit. look at] my affairs.
Ning nga kumoo fo, If I speak [lit. say a word],
jamaa be nna kumoo soosoola. many (people) contradict my words.
Wolu ka tara wo le nooma rek. They are only interested in that.
Ning ye meng fo dorong a ye loo. That everything they say is respected.
A kana firing. That nobody contradicts [lit. unties

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(that what the person says)].


Moo kana soosoo. No one must contradict them.
Yoo, ning taata mooroo yaa, Ok, if they went consulting a marabout,
be wo le jubee la. that is what (they wanted him) to be
looking at.
Bankoo kang dung, Wherever it is [lit. in all countries],
ite yaa miira jumaa le si, who do you think,
ning nga kumoo fo if I speak,
jumaa le si nsoosoo noo? who would contradict me?
si mooroo bula wo juubeeroo la. They ask the marabout to do that (type
of) divination.
A si a juubee, He may divine (and say):
Ah, kaari fulana de wo mu moo le ti Ah, that is a person who,
ning i ye kumoo fo, if you speak to him,
wo si i soosoo noo le. he may contradict you.
() ()

Although only referring to the motives for divination of just one category of people,
the emphasis on respect, deference, and ones authority in relation to others that Al
Hadji Sis describes as the main reason for divination among the elders (alifaalu) in
the past, clearly indicates that, historically, peoples concerns were primarily
informed by issues relating to the realm of social relations, status, and how to
maintain these, while today the main interest lies, as he explained before, in the
pursuit of and employment, money, and migration. The earlier socio-ethical concerns,
he continues, do hardly play a role any longer:

Bari saaying, But now,


mool mang wo kuu siifaal muta kuu ti. people have no interest in this kind of
affairs.
Saaying moo baa juubeela dorong, Now, the person will only look for that,
meng yaa long ko, as you know,
dal a si a fango nafaa noo; which can mean a benefit to him;
samaa a sa dung nafaa la. that which will be a benefit for him in the
future.
ka bula wo dorong ne nooma. That is the only thing they pursue.
Yoo. Ok.
Ning mool dung ka bula wo ku siifaal If the people pursue their affairs that

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nooma, way,
wo ya tinna that is the reason why
n ning ila kuwool their affairs [i.e. the affairs of people in
the past] and ours [today]
mangke kiling ti. are not the same.

It is clear from Al Hadji Siss account that divinatory praxis is not just a
phenomenon of cultural tradition but deeply entrenched into the dynamics of change,
exclusion, and possibility that increasingly mark the contemporary world. Even if
(un)employment, money, and migration are not the only concerns featuring in
divinatory praxis today, the omnipresence of these concerns in contemporary
divinatory praxis indicates that today the significance of divination cannot be
exclusively located in the seemingly timeless space of its intrinsic cultural and ritual
properties. Rather, it must be understood in relation to the concrete and current
existential concerns of the consulting subject. Looked at from such a perspective, it
becomes clear that the prospective dimension of Senegambian divinatory praxis is not
just a detail of divinatory epistemology but epitomizes what divination is
fundamentally about. In this regard, the notion of nyaatotaa (advancement,
improvement, progress, etc) not only indicates the possible positive development of a
specific affair but can be understood as an encompassing metaphor for the aspirations
and longings dealt with in divinatory inquiry.
But how exactly does divination deal with the aspirations, longings, and
desires of the individual consultor? What is the effect of the prediction of
advancement and of the specific predictions pronounced in the divinatory
enunciation? Or, put in a more abstract way, what is the modality in which the future
created in the divinatory encounter is experienced by the subject? Before approaching
these questions in a more general and theoretical way, it is important to understand
how the divinatory encounter, its unfolding, and its results, are experienced by the
concerned person him- or herself.

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Illustration 4.2: Al Hadji Sis.

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Chapter 4

Divination as Hope

The following interview is instructive in several regards. First of all, the interview
follows the course of a consultation in a rather systematic way and may thus serve to
recapitulate, through the clients narrative, many of the different aspects and notions
touched upon in the previous chapters. Second, the interview was not conducted
immediately after the clients consultation, or but several months later. Due to this
time lapse, we not only get an idea of the immediate effect that the divinatory
encounter had on the consulting subject but also come to know how things have
developed since then and how the consultation is seen in retrospect. The core part of
the interview, that is, the part dealing specifically with the experience of two
consecutive consultations with the same diviner, is reproduced almost in its entirety,
starting with a short account of the consultation, explanations concerning the
motivational background, mention of the employed ritual remedies, and ending with a
general characterization of the immediate effect of the divinatory encounter and the
changes it has brought about since then. The interview will form the basis for a more
detailed analysis of the modalities of the experience, as well as the subjective and
socio-cultural significance of divinatory praxis.

Example 4.3: Interview with a client of Al Hadji Sis, Karantaba Dutoo Koto,
Gambia, February 2003.

ininkaroo []: Question [Q]:


Waati jumaa le i naata jang When did you come here [i.e. o the
diviner],
ou bien lung jumaa le i naata jang? or, which day did you come?
Last timoo meng na i naata jang, Last time that you came here,
a ning mune keta? what happened?

Jaabiiroo [J]: Answer [A]:


Nte naata jang Musu koto (karoo) kono. I came here during the month of Maulud
[i.e. the month of the birthday of the
Prophet Mohammed].
Nnaata a yaa jang musu koto kono. I came here, to him, in the month of
Maulud.

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Nnaata meng na wo le mu ing ti: That for which I came is this:


nte nlaata ing na le I was convinced
ko mooroo le mu a ti. that he is a marabout.
Biring mbaa long na, Since I have known him,
bring a faamaa olu fo ka naa ate la, from his father and others down to him,
tolu mu moorool le ti. they have been marabouts.
Moori lasidool le mu ti. They are a family of marabouts.
Nnaata a yaa juubeeroo la. I came here for divination.
Nnaata mune juubee? I came to divine what?
Nnaata nte le jubee, I came to divine (for) me,
nna harjewo be tembe jumaa le to where does my chance [or good luck]
situate itself,
a ning a loo dulaa be posisionoo meng and in which position does it stand?
to.
A dung a ye feng-feng fo ne wo to, Everything that he told me,
nlaata a bee le la. I have confidence in that.
A mang ke komi a siita ne It is not like that I am sitting here
le a ye kitaaboo yele ne de. and he opens his book and speaks to me.63
Nnaata nga nna haajoo le fo a ye, I came here confronting him with my
concern,
a ko ne taa fo sining. (then) he told me to go (and wait) until
tomorrow.
Wo somoo mmuruta nang kotenke. The next morning I returned.
A seyita ne a kang He told me this
Ko meng ye njaakaali What surprised me
a yaa bee fo ne nnaata ala aameng. was that he told me everything
concerning the way I had come [i.e. that
the diviner succesfully identified the
intentions and issues he was concerned
about when he had visited him the day
before].
Haa, a ye sadaal le fo ne nanta meng Yes, he told me the sadaa which I should
ning meng bee bola. distribute.

63
Here, the client refers to the consultational situation when the diviner uses a chain of
prayer beads (tasabayoo) in order to find the passages in the Koran that have divinatory
meaning for the client in his current situation.

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: Q:
A munta ko lastikaaroo? That means [he did] istikhara [Islamic
dream divination]?

J: A:
Haa, lastikaaroo le mu. Yes, it is istikhara.

: Q:
Kabiring i naataa, wo soomoo i muruta When you came, the moment that you
nang ka na Al Hadji juubee, returned to Al Hadji in order to see him,
a ye mung ning mune fo i ye? what did he say to you?

J: A:
A ye meng fo ne? What he said to me?
Wo le mu ing ti tim-timoo (?) le mu That was this, tim-timoo (?),
nga meng ininkaa wo le mu ing ti, that what I had asked,
nte la harjewo be mintoo le? my chance, where does it situate itself?
A be aadi le. How it is.
A dung a yaa yitandi nna ko: And then he showed me:
ila harjewo, your chance,
tana nteng feng-feng nteng.; there is nothing bad;
bari meng be a kaleering wo le mu ing but what has blocked your way is this and
ning ing ti. that.
I anta ing ning ing ne boola sadaa ti. You have to distribute this and that as
sadaa [charity/sacrifice].
Haa, nga wo sadaal bo le. Yes, these are the sadaa to be distributed.
Wo le mu kandiyoo ning tabiroo. That is candles and a meal.
Ka tabiroo ke, Prepare a meal,
misilimeel kumandi, call the Muslims,
ka sindi ka duwaa nte they will pray duwaa for you [prayer of
intercession]
fo Allah si nsoo siimayaa ning so that God grants you a long life, good
jaatakendeyaa, health,
a ning harjee firingo. and good [lit. untied] chance.64

: Q:
Kabiring wo bota jee, After you left,
saaying i naata mune je? now, what did you experience?

64
The practices of sadaa and duwaa will be dealt with in more detail in Chapter Six.

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J: A:
Biring wo bota jee, When I left there,
nga je le nte la kuwool I saw that my affairs
ka lafaa ka taa aato. improved in (a motion of ) advancing.
I buka taa koma. They did not retreat.
Nga je le nka sele santo, I saw that I was going up,
bari mbuka muru nang duuma. I did not go down again.

: Q:
I si kuma kiling fo noo bang mennu be Can you say something about the things
wolu kono. you were concerned about?
A mulunta ko i lafifengol wo waato la, That is to say, the things you wanted at
that time,
a ning i ye meng soto waato la? and also what you obtained?

J: A:
Nte, biring naa a yaa waato meng, I, when I came to him, at that moment,
wo tumoo nte ka sii le at that time I had (often) been,
a ka lookung sii le fo karoo for a week or (even) a month,
mmang dalasoo fango soto mbuloo la. without getting hold of a single dalasi
[Gambian currency].
Bii nga je le ko a buka wo sii. Today, I see it is not any longer like that.
Nka soto meng ke bii, That what I gain now
wo le tambita biring sanji tang kooma is more than what I had [gained during]
nka soto meng ke. the ten years before.
A dung a duwaata ne le fanang He also prayed for me
nna palaaso meng mbe siiring ing, that the place where we [i.e. himself and
the people making up his immediate
social environment] are sitting,
nka sii daameng, where we sit,
nka kacaa, (and) where we talk,
mool ka siyaaa, there are many people,
a duwaata ne le fanang he prayed for me also
meng yaa yitandi in order to show him [God]
nna ko mmang lafi seetaanoo ke that I did not want to have any trouble [lit.
a devil or demon]
because jamaa ning ke i waling, because if there are many people coming
to you,

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i saa duwaa ining you have to ask for duwaa [here used in
the sense of blessing]
puru meng si i tanka seetaanoo ma. in order not to get into trouble.
Mool si siyaa jee aa-wo-aa seetaanoo (As long as you do that) regardless of the
buka ke. number of people (you have to do with),
trouble will stay away.
Mbee ka naa nga sii kunke nga kacaa, Everybody will sit and talk,
nga janjang. and everybody will disperse (afterwards,
without any conflict).
Nnaataa seyinkang muru a yaa kotenke I visited him again the month before
sunkari konongo. Ramadan [the Islamic fasting month].

: Q:
ing sunkari konongo tambila? The month before (the Ramadan) we just
had?

J: A:
Haa, nnaata palaaso le ining meng keta Yes, I came to look for a place/job which
forest campoo la palaasoo ti. happened to be a place/job in the Forest
Camp [a near-by forestry project run by a
NGO].
Wo fanang a duwaata ne le. He also prayed for me for that purpose.
Wo fanang mbe temboo meng to saaying That also, it has not been arranged as to
teng, where we are now,
a mang paree de, it is not ready yet,
bari nga jikoo soto but I have the hope
ko mbaa kela jee le, that I will be working there,
palasoo be ne lee. that Ill get a place/job there.
() ()

: Q:
I yaa long i ko jang ko a ka mee nung i You know, you said you stayed without
buka kodi muta noo. money for a long time.
Saaying kabiring i naata Al Hadji yaa, (But) now, since you came to Al Hadji,
wo ye sadaal fo iye, he told you the sadaa,
saaying Alhamdulilahi. now, thanks to God (it is better/good).
Saaying Now,
a munta ko harjewo muto, I mean, bad [lit. bound or caught] luck,
moo la harjewo muto ite fee a persons bad luck, according to you,

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mune ka wo saabu? what is its cause?


Mune ka saabu fo moo la harjewo si What is the reason that one persons luck
muta? is blocked [lit. tied]
Ou bien moo la harjewo si firing? while another persons luck is good
[untied]?

J: A:
Ok, moo la harjewo, a ka tara, Ok, a persons luck, you happen to be in a
situation,
ite be posisiongo doo to, you are in a certain position,
feng doo i anta a soto la, there is something you should [want to]
obtain,
bari kuu kalee nding be i naa teema, but a small barrier comes in the way,
ning i ye wo sadaal bo, if you distribute that sadaa,
wo anta bola i naa teema le. it should make disappear [the barrier] that
came between you [and what you want to
obtain].
Ning a yaa tara fanang If it happens also
ko i lafita puru kuu kela, that you want to do something
Allah mang kiiti ala, (which) God has not granted yet,
bari ning i ye wo sadaal bo dorong, but if you just distribute that sadaa, God
Allah si kiiti ala. may be able to grant it.
Yoo, wo kuwool si ke. Yes, these things can be done.
() ()

: Q:
ininkaar doo fele. There is another question (that I want to
ask you).
Wo le mu ing ti: (And) that is this:
ning i ning mooroo kacaataa fo ka bang, if you talk [consult] with a marabout,
a ye ila kumool fo ye; he tells you about your affairs,
a si ke noo Al Hadji ti, if it is Al Hadji
a si ke noo doo ti, or someone else,
ning i bota jee fo ka bang, when you leave from there,
i ka ke aadi le? how do you do that?
I ka feel aadi le? How do you feel (at that moment)?

J: A:
Ning i yaa je moo be naa mooroo yaa, if you see someone going to a marabout,

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i ye kuu le je dal meng ye i jaakali. you [i.e. the person going to a marabout
for divination] have seen something that
surprised/worried you.
Ning a ye kuma fo i ye kuwo to If he tells you something
meng ya long ko ite fango of which you yourself know,
ye i hakiloo ing je ko a ye in your mind, that what he told me,
meng fo iye toaa le mu, it is the truth,
ning i be bola jee, if you leave from there,
i kontaaniringo le i ka bo jee. youll be leaving with happiness/delight.
Yoo, Ok,
ning i taata a je fanang, if after you have left you also see that
a yaa fo i ye aameng what he told you to do like that,
i yaa ke wo aama fanang, you did it like that,
i yaa ke wo aama, you did it the way you should,
i taata, you left,
i be hamering meng kama i yaa soto, (if) you (then) receive what you are
longing for,
a kontaanoo lafaa kotenke. your happiness will increase even more.

If we consider the above account in terms of what it says about how divination is
experienced and how it unfolds in its significance for the individual client, several
aspects can be distinguished. First, the client refers to the genealogy and professional
status of the marabout in question. Because of the ethical and epistemic implications
of his cultural persona (discussed in Chapter Three), from the beginning of the
encounter the relation between client and diviner is thus based upon certain cultural
assumptions that bring about a feeling of trust and confidence as to the question
whether the diviner will be able to help and is the right person to be adressed. And, as
I have argued before, it is crucial to understand that the different aspects of the
diviner/marabout as cultural persona do not just represent an ideal type that governs
the cultural subjects pre-understanding of the consultation. Rather, the significance
of these associations grow during the unfolding of the divinatory encounter, to the
extent in which the diviner is able to live up to what is expected from him. This
becomes clear when the client returns to the diviner the next morning and hears the
results of the istikhara the diviner has carried out for him. As the client emphasized,
he was surprised that the diviner seemed to know exactly why he had come and what

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his concerns were. Here the first and principal emic criterium of the quality of a
consultation, the identification of the persons intention (nganiyo) and concern
(hajoo), is realized. It prepares the ground the further unfolding of the consultational
process and gives an indication of its veracity. In this regard, the clients explanations
at the end of the above interview confirm that the identification of the nganiyo is not
just a test, or an epistemic exercise. Rather, it is of fundamental significance for the
divinatory process as a whole. It is from here that the client realizes the truth of the
diviners words and that the further predictions of the diviner become meaningful and
convincing.65 And because of this manifestation of truth (toaa), already at this stage,
i.e. indepent of the later development of the clients situation, the person experiences
joy and happiness (kontaaniringo). This feeling will only increase when, the client
explains, the subjects personal longings and aspirations (hamoo) start to become
reality later on.
How can this experience, renewed understanding, and feeling of joy which is
brought about by the divinatory encounter be described in more abstract terms? What
does it tell us about the general effect of divinatory consultation in the Senegambian
context? I would argue that the main consequence of the divinatory inquiry in the
subjects personal situation, of the predictions made, and of the execution of the
prescribed ritual remedies, is the generation of a renewed understanding of the current
situation or predicament. It provides new prospect in difficult existential situations,
resulting in the feeling that what is intended, longed for, and desired, is also possible.
In other words, the identification of the topic or area of the persons concern in the
process referred to as the locating of the clients intention, the experience of truth and
recognition that this process implies, as well as the possibility to actively deal with
ones situation by applying the prescribed ritual remedies, turn the divinatory
encounter, and the predictions made in its course, into an encompassing source of
hope. Shaping the subjects relation to his own personal future, the divinatory
enunciation unfolds its transformative and empowering value on the level of
subjective time consciousness and temporality as one of the most fundamental

65
Concerning the question of the veracity of the divinatory encounter also cf. Zemplni
1995.

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dimensions of human existence. It replaces the closed temporality of doubt,


uncertainty and affliction with a new divinatory temporality of hope and prospect.

In order to fully understand the importance and scope of divination as a cultural


technology of hope, the following chapter will look at the divinatory process in
relation to (the wish for) migration as one of the concerns that surface most frequently
in divinatory consultation today.

184
Chapter Five
Divination as Access to the World? Reflections on Globality,
Locality, and the Path of Travel in Senegambian Divinatory
Praxis

In this chapter I will concentrate on the case of a young man consulting a Mandinka
diviner specialising in Islamic geomancy (ramalu) because of his plans to travel and
migrate to Spain. I will argue that the personal motivations, socioeconomic
predicaments, and psychosocial dynamics at the basis of the omnipresent wish to
migrate in Senegal and Gambia today, are not only crucial for understanding cases
that explicitly deal with migration but also inform many other concerns which
divinatory consultation deals with (unemployment, illness, marital conflicts, etc.). The
analysis moves from the biographical to the general socioeconomic and sociocultural
context of the consultation. This is followed by the reproduction and discussion of the
result of the geomantic consultation, leading to a more general analysis of the
working and personal significance of Senegambian divinatory praxis today. Taking up
and continuing the consideration of the time-related aspects of divinatory praxis
discussed in Chapter Four, divination will come into view as an important technology
of hope and as an alternative way of accessing the world at a time when the state and
its institutions, development agencies, and international organizations are unable or
unwilling to provide what they promise.
Chapter 5

A.s Case (I): History

For more than two years A. had been obsessed with the thought of going to Spain.66
Originally from the Middle Casamance area, from a village somewhere between
Kolda and Sedhiou, he had moved to Dakar in order to find a job, an income, a better
life, prosperity, like many before him. Things had not exactly worked out the way he
had wished. Instead of finding a permanent employment which would have allowed
him to build an existence and support his relatives in the village, he had started to
work as a day labourer in the harbour of Dakar, unloading frozen fish from the
incoming trawlers and packing it into cold-storage warehouses. Hard and
uncomfortable work for a wage of 1200 up to 1800 CFA, something between two and
three Euros a day. Just enough to survive but hardly enough to live comfortably or to
build something up. Making things worse, after three to four days individual workers
would usually be replaced by another worker, who also had been waiting for days.
Then he had to wait again, never exactly knowing after how many days it would be
his turn again. Inevitably, the idea had nested itself in A.s mind, that the only way
out of this predicament was to move elsewhere, abroad. Others had come back from
abroad with money, suitcases full of presents for those who had not had the chance to
go themselves, even cars. He knew that Europe would not be paradise. But unlike
Senegal, there, money was plenty (jee, a be koddoo siyaata). That was what
everybody said and what everybody knew. As long as you were young and willing to
work hard you could make it. While in the village, or in Dakar, it looked as no one
ever made it, no matter how hard one worked. Unless you had someone to support
you, someone already abroad who would send you a used car to be used as a taxi,

66
Given the emphatically private and confidential nature of divinatory consultation,
throughout this study I have omitted the names of the clients whose consultations I
witnessed, and of those who told me about their experiences of divinatory consultations at
other occasions. In contrast to this, the names of diviners are given in full in order to fully
acknowledge their individual contribution to my research, as well as recognize their more
public status in society as ritual specialists. In order to make it easier to identify with the
protagonist of the following case I have substituted his name by a capital letter, evoking a
persons initials, rather than just referring to him as the client, young man, subject,
etc.

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Divination as Access to the World

preferably a Toyota or Mercedes Benz, money to open a shop, anything that would
allow you to make a living.
A. had an uncle and two cousins in Spain. But there were too many people
between him and them so that he could not hope for any direct help. Too many other
relatives who were more closely related and therefore had more right to financial
support than he could claim. However, he knew that if he could somehow make it to
Spain himself, he could rely on their help. Partly because of their kinship ties and
partly because of their own interest in making him succeed so that the burden of
supporting the larger familiy back home could be shared with someone else.
Getting to Spain, however, looked rather difficult. Regular visas for people
in his situation (young or middle-aged, unemployed and without other financial
means, little or no formal education) were practically non-existent. And given the
many stories of shipwreck and the dead bodies of drowned migrants washed onto the
Spanish shores, the alternative way through Morocco and across the Mediterrenean
Sea looked too insecure and too dangerous to be attempted, at least for someone with
a wife and a child to take care of. And then, his financial situation suddenly
experienced an unexpected improvement. More or less by chance he had mediated in
the sale of two houses to a fransnaabe, a Senegalese living in France, who had wanted
to buy a house for himself and his family in one of Dakars popular residential
neighborhoods.67 As a result of this transaction, a considerable commision had been
payed to him for his services, and suddenly Spain seemed to be within his reach. A
Senegalese businessman who regularly travelled to Europe, and who claimed good
contacts with employees in several European embassies, promised to arrange a visa
that would allow him to legally travel to Spain. The sum that was asked for this
mediation consumed half of what he had received as comission for the house sale.
Since that deal a year had passed. He had listened to the intermediarys renewed

67
For Senegalese who live abroad and can afford it, this is a popular move. The purchase
of a house in Dakar (or in one of the other cities that are near to ones respective area of
origin) is often both a sign of prestige and personal success as well as an attempt to put a
little bit of distance between oneself and the family members, co-villagers and other
people seeking the returning migrants financial support. A move that ironically often
generates the opposite effect as the property of a house inevitably shows the persons
financial success, enhances his reputation, and will bring even more people to his door.

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promises but had not yet received a visa. Adding to his general concern about his
situation, the fear started to consume him that he might not only be unable to obtain
legal travel documents, but that he would not be able to reclaim the money that he had
deposited for this purpose. Life in Dakar became increasingly impossible for him. His
physical and mental health seemed to deteriorate by the day so that friends and
relatives urged him to leave Dakar for some time to get rest and recover in the village
where he used to live before moving to Dakar. When I met him there a few weeks
after his arrival, he seemed ill indeed. While we were talking he seemed to have great
difficulties to concentrate on our conversation. He walked with great difficulty, his
legs and arms appeared unnaturally stiff and rigid. When I asked what was wrong
with him he told me that he didnt know, just that he was ill. Une maladie mystique
had struck him, a mystical disease (a term that is often used by Francophone
Mandinka-speakers when referring to an illness caused by malign maraboutic action),
an African disease, unknown to Europeans. Further on he told me that his uncle,
who directed the local majlis, a large local Islamic school with some 200 students
between six to 20 years of age, and who was both a widely respected Coranic expert
as well as a prestigious Islamic healer, had diagnosed him with foo, lit. wind,
invisible malign currents in the air that can hit a person by accident, let the person fall
ill or even die if not treated with the right remedies.
After a few months of treatment, which consisted primarily in the external
use of medicinal solutions (nasoo) made from Koranic verses and magical drawings
written on a wooden plate and then washed off into a bowl of water, he started to feel
better. Still preoccupied and concerned with his pending travel and visa arrangements
in Dakar, he decided to consult a diviner.

Why Travel? Globalisation as Absence and Psychodynamic Process

In many regards A.s case is representative for the situation of those who decide to
take recourse to divinatory consultation. Precarious financial circumstances, due to
often unprofitable agricultural activities, unemployment, and/or failing attempts in the
informal sector, turn life into a constant struggle of finding the means for housing,

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transport, marriage opportunities, education for ones children, health care, food, etc.
This situation makes that the path of travel (taama siloo) or simply the path
(siloo), which represents the possibility of gaining access to a more prosperous future
through migration, has become one of the most prevalent motives and topics of
divinatory consultation. Young and middle-aged men go to consult a diviner on their
own behalf, women go either for their own problems or on behalf of their husbands,
children, or relatives.
Traditionally, taamoo (or tukki in Wolof) referred to any type of journey.
When this motif appears today, it is understood by the practioners and their clients
that it refers not to trips to the capital or to neighbouring countries but travel to
Europe or the U.S. Among Mandinka-speakers and other neighbouring ethnic groups
this concern for travelling is not new as such. Explorative and entrepreneurial
travelling of young man during the dry season (ka ta baying-bayingo) and travelling
for the purpose of religious education (kaarango, lit. reading) or pilgrimage (haaj)
have formed part of the sociocultural repertoire in West African societies since long
before the possibilities and temptations of regular transcontinental passenger flights.68
What seems to be new however, is the scale and unavoidability of the idea that the
only real possibility to move towards a more prosperous life lies outside ones own
country. An idea that is not restricted to those who feel directly marginalised but
seems to pervade all layers of society. Farmers dream of making money in Spains
fruit industry, workers dream of paid jobs in European factories or building
companies, people without specific professional qualifications dream of doing
anything to get ahead. Even those with a university education or a salaried job
articulate the wish of going to Europe or elsewhere even if that means that they would
have to accept jobs that they would never even consider taking up in their home
country. Somehow, very few people seem to resist the idea of migration. As a fellow
traveller once pointed out to me, while we were passing through the Gambia on a trip
from Dakar to the southern Senegalese town of Ziguinchor: In Gambia, even police
officers want to leave the country, meaning that when even those who have access to

68
The traditional importance of travelling for religious purposes is not limited to
Mandinka-speakers. Cf. eg. Yamba 1991 for the wider significance of the phenomenon of
travelling for pilgrimage among West African Muslims in general.

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the one-way economy of corruption want to leave the country, things really must be
desperate.69
But why exactly does the idea of travel and migration capture peoples minds
to such an extent? Why do African states seem to have to offer so little that people
would rather concentrate on the possibilities abroad than within their home-countries?
This question seems all the more poignant in the case of Senegal which is commonly
held to be one of the African nations that is economically better off and enjoying a
much larger political stability than many other African states. The most immediate
reason is probably the simple fact that despite political stability and efforts of the state
for economic improvement on many levels, the majority of people continue to be cut
off from realistic and sustainable economic opportunities. Next to the difficult
economic conditions that cause people to turn to migration and travel as a solution to
their material predicament, at least two other but related reasons seem to be
accountable for the omnipresence of the idea of migration and travel in divination and
peoples minds. One reason seems to be the powerful appeal that Europe as an image
of a better, more prosperous life exerts on those who are denied access to it. Fed by
media representations such as television series and other media products, success-
stories of returning migrants, and the iconic power of commodities of foreign origin,
Europe presents itself to many as the ultimate prospect. Europe as a space of ultimate
promise, an image that is nurtured by an endless stream of advertisements, pouring
into the African mediascape through magazines, television and, increasingly, the
computer screens of the many cybercafes that multiply in the bigger Senegalese cities
such as Dakar, St. Louis, and This, as well as at the infrastructural knots of the
Kombos, the area south of Banjul with its contrast between international hotel
complexes, more suburban agglomerations such as Serekunda, and its sprawling

69
For those who are familiar with the economic conditions prevailing in most of Sub-
Saharan Africa none of this will come as a surprise. It should be emphasized that in most
of Africa, including Senegal which is considered to be one of the more prosperous African
states, public services such as health care, unemployment benefits, social well-fare, etc.
are either non-existent or extremely limited. Making use of public health services (clinics,
postes de sant, doctors, medication, etc.), for instance, often implies considerable
immediate costs for the patient. For many this makes regular bio-medical health-care
simply unaffordable.

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popular neighborhoods. A second reason appears to be the invasive and often


articulated impression of being at the margins of the world, its wealth, and its
opportunities; the impression of being confined to a kind of second-rate world of fake
brands, supplements, home-made imitations, and inflation-ridden currencies.70 While
wax-cloths imprinted with images of mobile phones or dollar signs prove popular
both with local consumers and international photographers alike, most people would
prefer having a real Nokia or Siemens cellular in their hand, and real, hard currency in
their pocketsrather than wearing their imprints on shirts and skirts. The same holds
true for any other electronic consumer good. The real thing seems impossible to
obtain. Instead of Aiwa, Panasonic, or Sony, the African consumer is offered Naiwa,
Amsua, Panasoanic, or Suny. How does all this match with the awareness that the
modern world is full of new and exciting things (Diawara 1998: 58) and the wish of
local consumers to participate in this world by consuming these commodities? While
for the consumers in postindustrial societies no logo may be an attractive option that
enhances the conscious consumers moral and political identity, for those to whom
these objects remain unaffordable and out of reach, the fact of being forced to buy
copies and fakes produces sarcasm, bitterness, and an almost generalised feeling of
marginality on the fringes of the global scene. In other words, third rate products with
bastardised names and dubious origins, offered at a fraction of what the original
produce would cost, seem to be unable to fulfil the promise of being or making
oneself part of todays world of global premium brands and high technology. They
continuously reduce the African customer to a second and third class consumer.71

70
The last massive devaluation of the Senegalese CFA took place in 1994 (doubling its
exchange rate to the French franc and other currencies) and is still remembered as a
humiliation by many Senegalese. Since then and due to its link to the French franc and the
Euro, the CFA has been stable. The value of the Gambian pound has been in continuous
decline for many years, making many services and commodities unaffordable to those
without access to hard currency derived from tourism or trade.
71
Michael Jackson notes that in Sierra Leone the history of the (notoriously unfulfilled)
desire for things from the outside world started with the very first contact between the
local Kuranko and the coloniser in 1824 (Jackson 2004: 172). While political power has at
least formally shifted from colonial administrations to independent nation states, the
unequal distribution of and access to commodities seems to continue with little change

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This feeling is not diminished by, just to name one more example, a large scale
second hand cloth trade that does not even hesitate to offer second hand socks and
underwear, a phenomenon that many people that I talked to felt unable to address
without indignation, let alone accept.
The above examples and descriptions do, of course, not visibly dominate all
aspects of life. In daily life, people continue to spent time visiting friends and
socializing, playing football and exercising (boys and young men), caring for hair-
styles and fashion (both girls and boys), watching television series and sports (there
where electricity for a TV-set is available), celebrating marriages, baptisms and
religious feasts. In tourism brochures, guide books, travel writings, and other genres,
these signs of life are incessantly portrayed as demonstrations of a kind of undying
African vitality, either for selling Africa as a touristic attraction, or used, in more
accurate, jounalistic representations, for counter-balancing the usual negative
portrayals of Africa as ridden by poverty, hunger, disease, corruption, civil wars, and
all forms of violence. This vitality should, however, not be mistaken as resulting from
an untroubled normality. Rather, it should be understood as representing a claim to
the normality and the better life that constantly seem to slip away from the individual
subjects hold. In other words, the resilience, and cultural pride of people, and their
insistence on personal dignity, should not divert the observers attention from the
harsh socioeconomic conditions and corresponding feeling of marginalisation that
cause whole societies to seek solace in the promises of an elsewhere that is as real as
it is imagined.
In this context also, it should not be overlooked that, despite the
omnipresence of travel and migration in Senegambian divination today, other issues
surface as well. Personal concerns correspond roughly to the same gender specific
demarcations that characterize Senegambian daily life in general. Male clients are
concerned with travel and job opportunities, while the concerns of female clients

from colonial times to the postcolonial present. Ironically, the harsh contrast between local
housing and transport situations and the comfort of air-conditioned apartements and four-
wheel-drive vehicles makes that this impression is even perpetuated by the representatives
of governmental and non-governmental development programs that aim at the diminution
of this imbalance.

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more often center on issues of conjugal well-being and family life. At the same time,
demarcations are less clear cut that one might expect. Marriage, fertility, conjugal life,
and health concern men and women alike and all of these are issues for divinatory
consultation for both sexes. Even the topic of travel is by no means restricted to men
despite the fact that women are socioculturally more tied to the domestic sphere than
their male counterparts. For young women too, migration is often an attractive option.
While young men also consider independent and more risky forms of travel, young
women approach travel more through already established contacts within their family
networks. It is crucial, however, to realise that the other issues that regularly surface
during divinatory consultations (health, fertility, family relations, marriage
opportunities and conjugal life, but also judicial persecution and administrative
affairs) and which do not reflect the predicament of dispossession and marginalisation
as directly as the concern for travel and migration, are nevertheless deeply affected by
the dynamics of exclusion that mark the postcolonial and globalising lifeworld of the
contemporary subject. A male clients health problems may be linked to a situation of
unemployment, financial distress, and the feeling of failure. A womans concern
about a deteriorating marriage may be directly related to her husbands
unemployment and his resulting medical condition. A young students difficulties at
school or university become unbearable due to pressure of having to succeed in order
to fulfil the parents expectations for a better life and future. In this respect, even
when the issue of travel and migration does not become explicitit as a consultations
main topic, in many cases it will turn out that the causes and effects of migration
nevertheless form the consultations underlying subtext.
If one tries to summarise the different reasons for the omnipresence of the
theme of travel in Senegambian divinatory discourse, at least two of the three reasons
outlined abovethe feeling of exclusion due to difficult material conditions, and the
power of the idealised image of Europe (and the United States)appear to be directly
related to what is commonly known as globalisation and what can pragmatically be
defined as the process of change generated by an ever increasing flux of images,
commodities, and people world-wide.72 It is not just that globalisation plays such an

72
I call this definition pragmatic, simply because as a descriptive term that emphasises the
existence of accelerating global flows of people, ideas, money, commodities, etc., the term

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important role in the shaping of the content of divinatory discourse, but it seems do to
so not so much as a process of material change (manifestly changing material life
conditions), but rather through its immaterial effects on the cultural perception that
the subject develops towards his or her own life-world. This is clearly what happens
in the case of the iconic power that the image of Europe or the U.S. exerts on the
dispossessed and excluded subject, and this is also what happens in the case of the
person who is chronically exposed to the abjective power of fake and second-hand
commodities.73 The image of Europe doesnt materially change the Senegambian life-
world but it inevitably shapes peoples perception of their own life. In the same way,
fake commodities do not harm the person as such but they unfold a damaging
influence on his self-esteem and subjectivity by emphasizing, making tangible, rather
than substituting the void that results out of the absence of the real object and its
possible use for personal self-development (however problematic such a process of
identity formation through consumption may be in itself). In some ways, one could
even argue that it is not so much the positive, substantial impact of the immediate
economic conditions as such that cause the subject to revolt but rather the fact that
traditional modes of agriculture, for instance, which may still effectively constitute an
economy of local subsistence, are perceived and prove to be insufficient and
unsatisfying only in the light of expectations and desires that spring up from a
psycho-cultural environment that increasingly feeds on the projections and reflections
of global mediascapes. Of course, the return to times past doesnt seem to be possible
and advocating such a return, at least by a cultural outsider, would border on the
ridiculous. This doesnt take away, however, that it is exactly in these changes of
perception, conceptualisation, and imagination that one of the most radical effects of
globalisation can be located. In such a perspective, globalisation no longer appears
primarily as a process of material change but comes into view as a process of change
that directly impacts upon subjectivity and the cultural constitution of locally situated

globalisation is used in a way that does not yet imply approval or criticism of this
phenomenon. Of course, in this simply descriptive mode the term also has a very limited
theoretical reach.
73
On abjection as a quality of the Real inherent in certain things and materials cf.
Kristeva 1980. On abjection as a consequence of economic exclusion or decline cf.
Ferguson 1999: Ch. 7.

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life-worlds. More poignantly, one could say that the effect of globalisation in these
cases is not so much globalisation in the sense of enlargement, widening, and
interconnecting, but globalisation in the sense of the marginalisation of the local, the
present, the here and the now, as well as the inherited past. This effect, which can
most probably be observed in a multitude of different cultural contexts today, seems
to become the more pronounced when the alleged economic and infrastructural
benefits of globalisation and modernity are constantly announced (through political
discourse, large scale development programs, advertisements, etc), but essentially fail
to appear on the local scene (or even seem to become annihilated in the increasing
decay and abandonment of modernitys technological, economic, and political
infrastructures).74 While the different ingredients of the global flux (images,
commodities, information, people, money) are usually referred to at the same time,
the Senegambian example shows that the different vectors of the process of
globalisation do not appear simultaneously or ubiquitously, and do not necessarily
bring about the results that are wished for. Instead they constitute a highly complex
interplay of change and non-arrival of change that causes different and even opposed
reactions and responses on the local level. Globalisation presupposes, for instance, an
increasing mobility of people, and this increasing mobility can most probably be
verified for Senegal, Gambia, and most other African nations. Despite this factual
increase in (inter)continental mobility, what is primarily experienced by the majority
of people is, however, their incapacity to move, their inability to afford even
interregional travel, their exposure to the most rudimentary means of motorised
transport, the difficulties to obtain visa to travel outside of Africa, and to gain access
to the economic opportunities of Europe or North America. In other words, for many
people mobility is primarily present in the experience of immobility, i.e. experienced
in the absence rather than in the actual arrival of the declared benefits of the

74
For detailed accounts of the receding presence of modernitys infrastructure in African
settings and the consequence of these developments for subjectivity, cultural perceptions
of modernity, and urbanity cf. eg. Mbembe & Roitman (2002 [1995]) for Yaound,
Cameroon; Ferguson (1999) for the Zambian Copperbelt; and De Boeck & Plissart (2004)
for Kinshasa, Congo.

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globalisation process.75 And the same disequilibrium between perceived importance


or image and factual reality holds, as we have seen, for the relation to commodities
which are known but not possessed, wanted but out of reach, manifest only in
absence, second-hand or fake. This absence is not a neutral, empty slot that waits to
be filled up but rather, it constitutes an an active void that generates a general feeling
of crisis (Mbembe & Roitman 2002 [1995]), abjection (Ferguson 1999: Ch. 7), denial
of membership (Ferguson 2002), and a general feeling of exclusion from the
possibilities of todays world. Inevitably, all this seems to result in the idea that the
only way to advance in life lies elsewhere, outside the confines of ones own
immediate life-world, in Europe or the U.S. Contextualized in this way, the example
of divination illustrates and confirms that culturally globalisation is, as Appadurai has
pointed out, really above all about imagination (...) as a form of negotiation between
sites of agency (individuals) and globally defined fields of possibility (Appadurai
1996: 31). Or, to put it in yet a different way, rather than constituting a process of
economic and infrastructural change, culturally, globalisation is primarily a
psychodynamic process.
Summarizing the above, the motif of travel in Senegambian divinatory
praxis is linked to at least two factors: 1) Lack of economic opportunities for a large
number of people, and 2) the effects of globalisation as a psychodynamic process that
forces people to consider their life not only in its own terms but in the light of the
possibilities of a much larger, globalizing world of material possibilities that
quantitatively exceed anything that could be found at the local levels of a more
subsistence oriented economy. Both factors seem to turn migration into an almost
irresistible cultural option that extends and stretches long existing local patterns of
travel for entrepreneurial, educational, and religious reasons to their limits. The
question that poses itself here is the following: If such is the situation in Senegal, the
Gambia, and probably elsewhere, what does this tell us about the relevance and
significance of divination in the Senegambian context today? What kind of a
perspective or solution, can divination or, in A.s case, geomancy offer in such a
situation?

75
For studies of mobility in Africa cf. also the different contributions to De Bruijn, van
Dijk & Foeken (2001).

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A.s Case II: The Pronouncement

After A. had silently spoken his concern on the pen that would be used for executing
the geomantic procedures, Abdoulaye Karamba Faty, a Muslim diviner from the
Middle Casamance76, specializing in Islamic geomancy or ramalu as it is called in
Mandinka (a form of divination that is wide-spread and highly regarded in Senegal,
Gambia, and throughout Islamic sub-Saharan Africa77), spent some five minutes on
the geomantic calculations before he arrived at the following divinatory
pronouncement:

Example 5.1: Geomantic pronouncement by Abdoulaye Karamba Faty, March 2003.

Ila jubeeroo, a beteyaata. Your jubeero [divination; lit.: looking at


or viewing], it is good.
nko ning iya tara iye tamoo le iinka, I say if it is (the issue of) travelling that
you are asking about,
ila wo taama siloo, your path of travel,
ila siloo botale, your path has come out,
ila siloo be diyaala. your path will be sweet.
Taama siloo meng mansayaa A travel path that is noble,
i si wo ke. that is what you will be able to do.
Diyaamoo ning jamfaa, Speaking and treason,
wo fanang be ila kuwool kono. that also is (found) in your matters.
Kumoo ka fo iye, Words have been said to you,
meng ya long ko, that as you know,
a mang ke/ are not/

76
Karamba Faty was the first to introduce me to geomancy. More important, he was my
host in the village where I lived from my first visit in September 2000, for many months in
2002, and during several long visits in 2003 and 2004. The case-study that forms the basis
of this text became possible when A., after having assisted me with translation during my
first ramalu-instructions, suddenly decided to ask Karamba Faty to divine for him. As
both of them knew me well, both agreed to my request to tape-record the subsequent
consultation.
77
For descriptions of the technical requirements of geomantic divination cf. the
introduction to the art of ramalu in Chapter One as well as, for instance, Jaulin 1957,
Eglash 1997, Brenner 2000, and Sow 2001.

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/a nganiyo te jee, /there is no intention [on the side of


those that have promised to help you],
bari a ka fo iye le ka ite jikindi. but it is said to you to give you hope.
Haa, wo fanang be jee. Yes, this is also there.
Bari tamaa siloo, wo lootale. But the path of travel, that is open [lit.:
standing upright].
A ko ite fango le anta i wakilila, It says it is you yourself who has to be
motivated,
a ko i si, it says you can/
i be ee le kela sadaa ti, /you will take fish as sadaa,
furu tang. ten furu [a small tropical carp that is
fished in the river Casamance]

Ila jubeero, a beteyaata. [The outcome of] your divination is good. This very first
statement sets the tone for the rest of the pronouncement. Indicating the general
direction of future developments, it introduces and summarizes everything that will
follow. While this first statement is general, already the second statement is very
specific: If the issue that he is inquiring about is connected to travel, then the diviner
sees the path of travel (...) upright, i. e. open, lying before him, coming into reach.
What is striking here is that the diviners very first geomantic
pronouncement already fits exactly the clients concerns. Being preoccupied with the
possibility of going to Spain, A. is told that if travel is what he is concerned about,
travel lies ahead. It is this ability of the diviner to discern your most intimate and
often secret concern that convinces the client of the capacity of the consulted
specialist. As A. put it when we discussed his consultation two days later, it proves to
the client that He [i. e. the consulted diviner] has clearly seen me. As I have
mentioned before, in the Senegambian context, this ability of the diviner to recognise
and spell out his clients concern is understood as the single most important emic
criterium of the consulter for evaluating the quality of a consulation and,
subsequently, for judging the ability and quality of an individual diviner. This is the
immediate reason why a consultation becomes convincing. From here it unfolds its
impact.

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Divination as Access to the World

Illustration 5.1: Abdoulaye Karamba Faty (left) and one of his students sorting out medical
herbs. Medina Souane, Casamance, Senegal.

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The second pronouncement of the diviner points to the damaging influence of other
people who try to spoil the clients plans by speaking (diyamoo), treachery (jamfaa),
and the saying of words (ka kumoo fo) when there is no proper intention to fulfil
what is said (a nganiyo te jee) This statement is perceived by A. as clearly referring to
the arrangement with the businessman in Dakar who promised to arrange a visa for
him but who, despite payment, had not yet fulfilled his promise. Summarizing this
first part of the pronouncement, the diviner has seen his clients current predicament
in full. That what concerned, troubled him, and made him sick for months, and what
finally caused him to leave the capital and to get rest and treatment in his village, was
addressed and spelled out in a geomantic consultation that took no more than a few
minutes.
Empathically, the force that such a pronouncement unfolds for the subject
seeking recourse in divinatory consultation is not too difficult to grasp. But how can
the reason for the personal significance of the divinatory proceedings and
pronouncements be captured in more theoretical terms? How can the width, depth,
and personal significance of the divinatory encounter be understood and described?
What is it that makes divination such an encompassing, wide-spread and for many
people essential way of dealing with personal difficulties, questions, and afflictions?
What are the main qualities of the divinatory encounter? What is divination? And
what does it bring about?

Divination as Hope and Prospect (Return)

As described in the first chapter of this study, independent from the different technical
requirements of the various divinatory methods that are in use in the Senegambian
context (geomancy, cowrie-shell divination, a variety of other casting techniques,
dream divination, etc.), the development or program of all the different forms possess
an almost identical structure. The sequential analysis of the course of the divinatory
encounter has shown that the different phases of its external structure correspond with
the various dimensions of divinations efficacy and functioning (intentionality,
lifeworld-poiesis, dialogue, time-consciousness, etc.). Confirming the description and

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interpretation of the divinatory process which I spelled out in the previous chapters,
the present case corroborates the fundamental hermeneutic character of this praxis:
First, the divinatory enunciation directly responds to A.s concern (migration to
Spain). This wish, the uncertainty concerning the question how to realize it, and the
concrete financial worry that resulted from his attempt to arrange a visa through an
intermediary, had made his life in Dakar increasingly impossible and probably formed
the cause of the illness that made him return to the Casamance in order to receive
treatment. The diviner not only identified his concern succesfully, but also described
his difficulties (betrayal, false promises, lack of intention on the side of those who
promised to help him), recognised his ambitions, and offered ritual remedies. The
immediate result of this being recognized in ones individual subjectivity and
concern, still without considering the precise content of the divinatory predictions, is
the experience of the divinatory enunciation as a moment of truth (He has clearly
seen me). Due to this, the predictions that followed were perceived not as the
arbitrary results of an aleatory procedure but as meaningful and, as already argued in
the context of a comparable case at the end of the previous chapter, as a source of
hope. It is due to the fact that the diviner sees that the Path of Travel is opening up,
that A. will be able to keep on believing in his plans and possibilities. This gives him
the strenght to continue his efforts. With the diviners enunciation, suddenly, his
present situation is tranformed. Even if this transformation is not yet brought about by
the actual realization of his plans to migrate to Spain, it is clear that the divinatory
enunciation will influence the way A. perceives his situation. In other words, the
enunciation immediately produces a fundamental effect. It generates a change of
mood, a move away from doubt, uncertainty, and a feeling of crisis toward a feeling
of possibility and prospect. The important point here is to realize that a change of
mood is not just a superficial merely psychological effect. Rather, a change of mood
already represents a fundamental transformation of our way of being. A mood
(Stimmung), to speak with Heidegger, already discloses the being-in-the-world of the
person in a most encompassing way and in doing so creates the condition of being
towards something, i.e. a feeling of direction, purpose, sense, etc.78 A mood is not

78
Die Stimmung hat je schon das In-der-Welt-sein als Ganzes erschlossen und macht ein
Sichrichten aufallererst mglich (Heidegger 1996 [1927]: 137).

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just something internal that influences the person but, as Befindlichkeit, literally, the
way the subject finds himself in the world, mood represents an existential modality of
the equally original disclosedness of world, Dasein-with-others and existence,79 and
existentially constitutes the openness of Dasein to the world.80 Seen in such a way,
it becomes clear that the mood or, more specifically, the expectant emotion of hope
resulting from the divinatory encounter, existentially, is not a negligible, merely
internal and passing state of mind but the embodiment of the very experience of our
existence, not just as a predicament but as possibility and prospect. And it is only
from here that the full significance of the characterization of the result of divination
expressed in the interview referred to at the end of the previous chapter, comes into
view. The result of divination becomes a state of happiness and joy (kontaano).

Divination as Access to the World

In order to fully appreciate the significance of divination in relation to the afore


mentioned effects of globalization and the current economic conditions, it is
important to remember that, as I have emphasised throughout this chapter,
globalisation, development, and political participation are often experienced more as
their absence than as ongoing processes of improvement of ones personal life-
conditions. Having this in mind, I would argue that the example of the omnipresent
concern for migration in Senegambian divinatory praxis shows that the significance of
divination relates not only to moments of existential crisis but also lies in the fact that
it offers a space of hope and empowerment in which the subject is considered to be
entitled to precisely the prosperity and well-being that the state and the multinational
financial structures and institutions seem to exclude him from.
One main objection or question may come to mind in this context. Does
divination actually provide a real alternative to the pursuit of prosperity and

79
(Die Befindlichkeit) ist eine existenziale Grundart der gleichursprnglichen
Erschlossenheit von Welt, Mitdasein und Existenz (ibid.).
80
Die Gestimmtheit der Befindlichkeit konstituiert existenzial die Weltoffenheit des
Daseins (ibid.).

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Divination as Access to the World

participation through economic development and the realization of ones political


rights in the official public sphere? Or is divination not rather to be considered the
proverbial opium of the masses, an ideological trap and cultural sedative for keeping
subalterns from raising their voices, from expressing their discontent openly, and
from taking up more explicit forms of political action?
In my opinion, the question or doubt whether divination can actually be
considered an alternative to political rights and participation reflects to a large extent
the wide-spread dichotomy in political thought between, on the one hand, the sphere
of the state (its institutions, professional politicians, and the official public space as
the sphere of politics proper), or macro-politics, and, on the other hand, the sphere of
(popular) culture, religion, and ritual, seen as somehow privatised fields of action, or
micro-politics. In a way, to acknowledge the existence of micro-politics, and to study
forms of invisible governance (Hecht & Simone 1994) as the cultural responses that
make it possible to endure conditions of exclusion and denial, is already an act of
resisting the hegemonial domination of the political by the state and international
governmental and non-governmental institutions. However, a term such as micro-
politics almost inevitably (ideo-)logically perpetuates the claim of priority and
greater importance that (the representatives of) political bodies try to make and
maintain in relation to the cultural responses of their political subjects. In other
words, although directed against oppressive macro-political forces and used to
highlight forms of cultural resistance, the term micro-politics is weakened by the
fact that it is part of a dichotomy that already entails a characterisation of one sphere
of political action (the macro-political) as somehow prior, or larger (macro-) than
the other. In this context it is interesting (and maybe revealing) to recall that the terms
public, as in public space, and popular, as in popular culture, rather than pertaining
to opposed or hierarchical registers of the political, both derive from populus, the
Latin term for people.81 What these etymologies seem to indicate is that the perceived
boundaries between politics and popular culture, macro- and micro-politics, are

81
For these etymologies cf. the respective entries under public and popular in
Websters Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language (New York &
Avenel: Gramercy, 1989, based on the Random House Dictionary of the English
Language, Unabridged Edition (New York: Random House, 1983).

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neither pregiven nor fixed but ideological and cultural constructs. Consequently, what
is aimed at by these reflections on the political dimensions of divinatory praxis, is not
only a reconsideration of divination in the light of the political and economic situation
of the present, nor is it only a reconsideration of notions such as globalisation,
development, and the public sphere in the light of the existential situatedness of the
subject that comes into view in the divinatory encounter. In addition to these two
aims, the question of divination as an alternative form of access to the world is
intended to challenge the logic inherent in the macro-micro-political dichotomy that
constantly locates ritual, religious, and cultural life at the margins rather than at the
center of the political, and thus at the margins of what is perceived to be the most
relevant area of concern within a given society. In other words, what is aimed at by
the question whether divination and other forms of ritual praxis must not also be
acknowledged as alternative ways of dealing with and countering the present
economic and political conditions there where political rights are either denied or
simply prove to be inefficient as a means for self-realisation and access to the world,
is precisely to reconquer the notion of the political monopolized by the official
political and economic institutions, and to reappropriate it for translating the concerns
and moralities embedded in these cultural practices, and to bring them back into the
center of (critical) social analysis and theory. Seen from such a perspective, the kind
of empowerment that is generated in the divinatory encounter, although embedded in
a different realm of social practice, should not be conceived of as somehow less
political than the kind of empowerment intended in political citizenship. But does
this turn this ritual practice into a real alternative for gaining access to the world there
where the state and its institutions constantly seem to fail to deliver?
In his study of the phenomenology of imagination, Jean-Paul Sartre (Sartre
1940) noted that imagination, despite its reach and intrinsic richness, tends to promise
more than it can hold. In a similar way, and although the realization of the predictions
made is not, as I have emphasized before, perceived as the main emic criterium of
divinatory consultation, doubts concerning the ability of divinatory ritual to actually
fulfil its own predictions could probably be seen as the main ingredient of a realist
critique of divinatory praxis. As a matter a fact, at least for the observer, it is often
impossible to know if the diviners pronouncements will actually realise themselves

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Divination as Access to the World

in the subjects personal future. And if predictions do turn out to be true, something
that is often claimed and stated by people telling about their experiences of divinatory
consultation, it is almost impossible to establish if the ritual remedies prescribed in a
particular case were actually the cause of and not just coinciding with the actual
developments of things. But even if predictions do not realize themselves in the
subjects personal future, would that prove the invalidity of the truth of divination?
Two points are crucial here. First of all, the experience of the
intrinsic qualities of the divinatory encounter such as resonance, recognition, and
hope are realized immediately, experienced during the unfolding of the divinatory
encounter itself, and thus independent of the later developments. More over, in order
to appreciate the significance and ritual efficacy of divination in situations where the
intentions and longings of the subject remain unfulfilled it is crucial to realise that the
degree of inefficacy, dissappointment, and rejection that is experienced in relation to
the state and the institutionalised secular public space, is far greater than anything that
the subject experiences in the cultural space that is opened up through the divinatory
encounter. In other words, where the official public space and the state seem to reject
the subjects claim of being entitled to economic prosperity and sharing in the
possibilities of todays world from the outset, divination fully recognises the subjects
wishes and concerns and provides ritual remedies that allow to actively pursue the
realisation of ones longings and intentions. Unlike the discourses of the public
political arena that for most people remain discourses of pseudo-proximity and false
promises, divination acknowledges the person as a fully entitled subject. In
responding to the existential concerns of the person, divination offers a cultural space
of intention that allows and demands the subject to move from a more passive
situation of suffering or longing towards an active approaching of his or her own
afflictions and expectations. Offering an understanding of the clients situation, as
well as possible paths of ritual action towards the realisation of personal hopes and
desires, Senegambian divination allows the subject to develop a more positive sense
of his or her personal future. By providing a performative cultural space that allows
the subject to move from passivity to action, from uncertainty and anxiety to hope and
prospect, divination reveals a dimension of direct personal empowerment that cannot
be found elsewhere, in the spaces of officialdom. Countering the general feeling of

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marginalisation and dispossession that to a large extent characterises the condition of


the postcolonial subject, divination thus seems to offer a cultural space or Lichtung,
i.e. an existential clearing in the daily struggle for dignity and prosperity.
This seems to be the crucial point. Rather than constantly feeling
discriminated and unacknowledged in his or her personal concerns, dismissed and
excluded from the promises of todays world, in being recognised in ones concern by
the diviner, being offered a new perspective and ritual remedies to improve ones
personal situation, divination recognises the subject in his full subjectivity as a person
with the right of having individual expectations, hopes and desires. Unlike the state,
economic globalisation, and other arenas of exclusion, divination is thus experienced
not as a source of annihilation and denial but as a source of prospect and
empowerment that responds to the universal human necessity of hope and moral
recognition as a prerequisite for personal and societal health and well-being.82 In
divination, in other words, the subjects existential claims to a better life are heard and
responded to. The subject is existentially involved in the proceedings and
pronouncements of the divinatory inquiry as an interpersonal praxis that sees the
individual subject as as fully entitled to the fruits of todays world as anyone else. It is
in this existential sense that one can say that divination is a true alternative: It
recognises the subjects existential concerns and provides prospect and ritual
remedies where the unfulfilment of the promises of globalisation and the state seems
to result only in the feeling of dispossession and unfulfilled longings.

82
Due to this embeddedness in Islamic ritual, our reading of Senegambian divinatory
praxis as a technology of hope also bears the potential for a more encompassing
understanding of the subjective and cultural significance of other aspects of Islamic
practice in Senegal and elsewhere (cf. Graw, forthcoming).

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Chapter Six
The Logic of Giving: Sadaa and the Ritual Insistence on
Intersubjectivity in Senegambian Divinatory Praxis

The last phase of the divinatory consultation consists of the recommendation of sadaa
(or sarax in Wolof), ritual offerings in the form of kola nuts, food, sugar, cloth, and
other objects to be designated by the diviner. The taking out or distribution of sadaa
(sadaa bondi) represents the main ritual remedy prescribed by Senegambian diviners
and has to safeguard, or at least positively influence, the developments of the clients
personal situation in the way they were predicted by the diviner. Rather than just
representing a kind of epilogue to the divinatory consultation itself, the praxis of
sadaa is of such a central importance to the divinatory process that when asked to
describe their work, Senegambian diviners often refer to the prescription of sadaa as
divinations main purpose and even state that in reality, divination is sadaa
(jubendiroo fango toaa sadaa lom).83 What is the cultural logic behind this? What is
sadaa? How does it work and what exactly makes it efficacious?
In order to answer these questions it is important to note that the distribution
of sadaa can in itself be described as a process consisting of three distinct phases:
Evidently, the central performative gesture of this praxis is the distribution of the
prescribed objects itself. This distribution is, however, preceded and followed by two
other ritual gestures: Before distributing the prescribed objects or offering the food
that has been prepared for this purpose, the giving person will speak a supplicative
prayer (duwaa) above the prepared objects in order to designate them as sadaa (cf. the
illustration on the next page). In this prayer, the person repeats his or her reason for
divinatory consultation and asks for the solution of his difficulties and the realization
of his plans, longings, and desires. This repeating of ones initial intentional concern
in the form of a prayer is conceptualized as the tying of the intention (ka nganiyo
siti), that is, the reattachment of the nganiyo pronounced at the beginning of the
divinatory process, onto the objects of sadaa. The person who receives sadaa will
pronounce another, intercessive duwaa in which God is asked to reply to the donating
persons request. In most cases, these two prayers take place at separate moments, the

83
Bamba Camara, This, July 2003.
Chapter 6

first before and the second immediately upon the reception of sadaa but before its
actual consumption. In the latter case, the giver asks those receiving sadaa to help
him or her to tie his intention to the prepared objects. 84 Another moment at which this
prayer is pronounced (not individually but by a group of people) is when candles,
writing paper, and other objects are given as sadaa to a mosque, preferably on
Fridays, before the beginning of the Friday prayer (jumaa saloo). This is a widespread
practice. At these occasions, the imam will ask the congregation to pray for those who
distributed sadaa to the mosque. Preceded by the fatiha, the opening sura of the
Koran that precedes most ritual and formal actions in Islamic culture, the
congregation will pronounce the duwaa of those who give sadaa (sadaa boolaal la
duwaa).
Echoing this tri-partite structure of the distribution of sadaa, my analysis of
the cultural meaning and efficacy of the described praxis will proceed in three steps:
In the first section of this chapter, the analysis will concentrate on the exposition of
the existential and phenomenological significance of the tying of the subjects
intention (nganiyo) onto the objects of sadaa as an expression, ritual actualization,
and first realization of the subjective purpose of the divinatory process. In the second
section, the analysis focuses on the act of distribution or taking out of sadaa itself
by considering the performative symbolic value of the different objects used as sadaa
in the Senegambian context. In the third section, the analysis will deal with the
implications of the prayer pronounced in response to the reception of sadaa. Drawing
on the analysis of the form and content of the final duwaa, I will argue that the
cultural meaning and efficacy of the praxis of sadaa does not only rely on the
symbolic properties of the distributed objects but must be located in the relation
between individual subjectivity and the intersubjective order of the moral lifeworld.

84
To pronounce the prayer together does, however, not normally imply that the giving
person will reveal the object of his intention but you will be uttering it [i.e. the intention
itself] alone (i damma le ka a nukunuku) (Kabiru Faty, February 2004).

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Sadaa

Illustration 6.1: Nganiyo sitoo. Aziz Diatta (left) tying his intention to three packages of
white candles to be distributed as sadaa. He is helped by the son of our host Solo Sis
praying duwaa so that Aziz wish may realize itself.

Building upon the prior tri-partite analysis of the praxis of sadaa itself, and
especially concentrating on the afore mentioned intersubjective dimension of sadaa,
the final section of this chapter will deal with the wider significance of sadaa as the
final and closing gesture of the divinatory ritual process as a whole. Drawing the
processual analysis of Senegambian divinatory praxis to a close, I will argue that the
role of sadaa in the divinatory ritual process is informed by a cultural logic that, while
recognizing the subject in his individual pursuit, remains aware of the necessity not to
rupture the social fabric the subject is tied into and dependent upon. Seen from such a
perspective, the distribution of sadaa will come into view as a ritual means that
allows the subject to reinscribe himself back into the intersubjective order of the
world as Mitwelt, that is, the world that only exists and comes into existence as a
livable social environment through a continous praxis of relating to and being with
others.

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Sadaa as Subjactivity

The Mandinka term sadaa is derived from the Arabic sadaq. As in its Arabic usage, it
refers to an act of voluntary distribution of personal property to another person. As a
voluntary praxis sadaa contrasts with the obligatory donational praxis of zakat, an
important Islamic legal institution which puts the individual under the obligation to
donate ten percent of his harvest, money, or other mobile property to the poor each
year.
As a traditional Islamic institution of socio-religious life, the praxis of sadaa
is widespread throughout Islamic Sub-Saharan Africa. Its use as an important ritual
remedy prescribed in divinatory praxis has been recorded for diverse cultural settings
reaching from Madagascar (where it is known as sadaka [Vrin & Rajaonarimanana
1991: 55]) to Ghana (called salaka in Ano [Kirby 1993: 241 & 246, footnote 23])
and Sierra Leone (referred to as s-athka in Temne [Shaw 2002: 79-80], and as
sarake in Kuranko [Jackson 1998: 69]). While the Arabic notion of sadaqa is
usually conceived of and translated as charity, its Mandinka and Wolof equivalents
sadaa and sarax are alternately translated by Francophone Senegalese as charit
(charity), sacrifice (sacrifice), and offrande (offering). Although the translation of
sadaa as charity appears to be the most frequently used and best translation for the
original Arabo-Islamic notion of sadaqa as a voluntary donational praxis, the
translation of sadaa or sarax as sacrifice or offering is not arbitrary but resonates with
earlier, pre-Islamic, but ritually similar practices of ancestral sacrifice. The degree in
which Islamic practice and terminology has replaced earlier ancestral practices is not
uniform throughout the different contexts where the prescription of sadaqa in
divinatory praxis has been observed. Among Senegalese and Gambian Mandinka
neither a term for ancestral sacrifice nor memories of these practices seem to have
survived.85 Rosalind Shaw, on the other hand, writes that although earlier notions of

85
The only expressions that were mentioned to me to describe non-Islamic sacrificial
practices were ka jio bong and ka yele bong, i.e. to pour out water or blood. However,
these were not mentioned to me by Mandinka informants referring to earlier, pre-Islamic
Mandinka practices but used by a Diola diviner in order to explain to me, in Mandinka,
certain Diola venerational and sacrificial practices that I had witnessed him practising at a

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Sadaa

ancestral sacrifice among the Temne in Sierra Leone seem to have been superseded
terminologically by the Islamic notion of sadaqa (s-athka), this does not preclude that
the distribution of sadaqa in a concrete case of donational praxis may be understood
by one person as an ancestral sacrifice and by another as Muslim charity depending
upon the persons ritual function and religious affiliation (Shaw 2002: 80). Finally,
Jon Kirby notes that among the Anufo of Northern Ghana, Muslim charity (salaka)
and traditional Anufo ancestral sacrifice (tie) are practiced next to each other within
the same cultural environment depending upon whether a person, in his or her specific
situation, decides to consult a Muslim or a traditional Anufo diviner (Kirby 1997:
223). Generally speaking, these different examples of the relation between sacrifice
and charity show that the cultural meanings of donational and sacrificial practices
are not always easy to distuinguish from each other. At the same time, however, the
examples of the different degrees of replacement or coexistence of pre-Islamic
sacrificial and Islamic charitable practices also indicate, however, that charitable and
sacrificial practices must be informed by a comparable cultural logic.
The most important point seems to me that the praxis of sadaa, independent
of its construction, understanding, or translation as charity or sacrifice, must be
understood according to what it most overtly wants to be: that is, a ritual remedy, a
symbolic means to bring about the developments that are wished for and ward off
negative interferings by others. The prescription of the diviner to take out specific
objects as sadaa allows, necessitates, and finally enables the subject to realize the
move from the subjunctive to the indicative, from uncertainty to decisiveness, from
crisis to hope and prospect. In this regard, the praxis of sadaa continues the move
from passivity to activity that already announced itself in the articulation of ones
intentional concern (ka nganioy/hajoo fo) at the beginning of the divinatory
encounter. As I mentioned in Chapter One, the articulation of nganiyo by the subject
can be understood as a form of self-realization and first ritual form of empowerment.
In the rearticulation and tying of the nganiyo to the objects to be distributed as sadaa,
the subject ritually realizes the envisaged transition from subjugation and predicament
to an active engaging with his or her situation. In this process, and independent from

small altar in the room where he received his clients. Interestingly, he also mentioned that
even in Diola one would now often refer to these practices as sadaa.

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the sociocultural emphasis on communal values, the obligation of the individual


toward his immediate social environment, and structures of deference, the subject is
recognized in his or her individual subjectivity. Being responded to his subjective
concerns by the divinatory inquiry, the person is helped in his or her attempt to
develop his own agency in the face of increasing economic exclusion and growing
needs and expectations. In so far as the divinatory process allows the subject to act
and ritually deal with his situation by distributing sadaa, or other ritual measures such
as medicinal libations (nasoo) or the wearing of amulets (safeo), divination and sadaa
constitute important ritual means to deal with difficult personal situations or periods
of ones life and to counter the feeling of blockage that accompanies situations of
economic deprivation. In this regard, divination constitutes both an important means
to regain ones own subjactivity (cf. the respective argument in the introduction of
this study) as well as a (ritual) possibility for the subaltern to speak. Given the
explicitly subject-oriented terminology that characterizes the divinatory encounter in
the Senegambian context (intention [nganiyo], concern or need [hajoo], sadness or
subjective woundedness [niitooroo], the persons heart [sondomoo], wish [lafoo],
ambition and aspiration [hamoo], and hope [jikoo]), together with the explicit
endogenous conceptualisations of divination as a reaction to and means to resolve
these subjective conditions and to help the person in what he wants to accomplish,
Senegambian divination indicates that traditional cultural practices may be deeply
concerned with the individual person and do not necessarily consider the individual
exclusively in terms of his or her social position.

The Logic of Objects

The praxis of sadaa makes use of a wide range of objects. The following list includes
objects prescribed or referred to in the divination sessions which I documented during
my research, as well as items whose distribution I witnessed in practice.

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Sadaa

Table 6.1: Objects of sadaa.

baa A goat.
bayoo Cloth.
curoo Porridge made from rice and groundnuts.
darfaano Handwoven white cotton cloth.
fasoo Rice porridge.
futoo Couscous made from millet.
kandiyoo or sondeloo Candles.
koddo Money.
kuroo Kola nuts.
manoo (Uncooked) rice.
mesendool Needles.
miskiitoo Biscuits.
monoo (aning nono) Porridge made from millet (and served
with fermented milk).
mooro kayito Literally, marabout paper. Referring to
white sheets of paper sold one by one in
every shop and typically used by
marabouts for writing and drawing the
texts and diagrams (Mand. katimoo,
derived from Arab. khatim, pl. khawatim)
that form the basis of most amulets
(safeo).
naafoo A hat.
ee Fish.
niisoo A bull or cow.
saajii kotongo A ram
saajiyo A sheep.
safunoo Soap (from the French sabon).
samatoo Shoes.
siisee A chicken.

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Chapter 6

suboo (keero) (Raw) meat.


sukaroo Sugar, both loose and in cubes.
tiyoo Groundnuts.

Depending upon the prescriptions of the diviner, all of the above items can be used as
sadaa. In the sessions that I had the chance to witness, the most frequently prescribed
of all these objects were kola nuts (often in combination with other objects), followed
by cooked meals such as rice with chicken (kinoo aning sisee), and different types of
porridge (monoo, fasoo, and curoo). Sadaa in the form of a bull or a ram are also
frequently indicated and considered particularly adequate to bring about the desired
development of affairs. Due to the high cost of these animals, however, diviners often
indicate a cheaper and thus more easily obtainable alternative. This may be a certain
quantity of meat, a chicken, or a cock. Despite of the fact that some types of sadaa are
used more frequently than others and that different forms of sadaa have a different
prestige, there seems to be no strict hierarchy among the different types of sadaa in
terms of their ritual efficacy. Rather, the suitability of a certain type of sadaa depends
upon the individual case and the specific indications perceived by the diviner in the
divinatory signs. Most diviners agree, however, that the prescribed sadaa should be
prepared and distributed as soon as possible. In the same way as a fast preparation
may have a positive effect on the course of things, delay in the preparation makes the
sadaa less efficacious. Sadaa like biscuits, sugar, and money are often to be given to
children and taalibe, boys between six and sixteen that study at traditional Koranic
schools and who can regularly be seen at gas stations and bus terminals where they
ask for money or food in exchange for the recitation of a few verses of the Koran.
Cooked meals also are often to be distributed to taalibe or to the poor (fukaraa),
especially in urban contexts. If not specified otherwise by the diviner, these meals are
consumed by the members of ones own compound, but also by friends and
neighbours who will often be invited to share the meal. In most cases, the person who
provides the sadaa will not eat himself. Although this is not prohibited, most diviners
and clients consider it more appropriate if the distributing person does not eat from
his own sadaa. But what is the power or effect of the distribution of sugar, kola nuts,
bowls of rice, etc?

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Sadaa

Generally speaking, sadaa is considered a means to solve [lit. to heal ones]


need (sadaa wo mu haaji jaaroo le ti)86, to remove the persons bad luck (sadaa a ka
maasiiboo le jamfandi moo la)87, or, more pragmatically, to obtain certain things.88
In this regard, the supposed and desired effect of sadaa is similar if not identical to
that of the supplicative and intercessive prayers pronounced before the distribution
and upon the reception of sadaa? ritual speech acts meant to attract the persons
well-being (lit. peace) (ka kairoo naati) and to chase away the persons bad luck (ka
maasiiboo bayi).89 How is sadaa able to bring about these effects? And how is this
process conceptualized by Senegambian ritual specialists and their clients?

Sadaa and the Significance of Colour

One of the most common explanations of the transformational power of sadaa given
by diviners and clients alike concerns the colour of the prescribed objects. Especially
the colours white and red are of great significance and power. When I asked Yafay
Man, one of the geomantic specalists who instructed me in the art of Islamic
geomancy, why marabouts so often prescribe white objects such as sugar, candles, or
fermented milk as sadaa, he gave the following explanation:

Example 6.1: Explanations on the significance of the colour of objects used for sadaa
by Yafay Man, Medina Souane, Casamance, February 2004.

Mune ya tinna, feng koyo? Why (using) something white?


Jamaa be jee Generally,
ning i yaa je moo ye if you see someone telling someone
puru ka feng koyoo ke sadaa ti, to prepare something white as sadaa,
a be kairoo meng inola, that is for the peace [or good luck] that he

86
Idem.
87
Kabiru Faty, Medina Souane, Casamance, February 2004.
88
Ce sont les sacrifices ces qui te facilitent avoir certaines choses. Explanation given
by a female client of a cowrie diviner in This, January 2004.
89
Kabiru Faty, Medina Souane, Casamance, February 2004.

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searches,
wo kayiroo puru a se wo soto noo. that he may obtain it.
I ya kalamuta? Do you understand?
A be kairoo meng inola The peace he is looking for,
fo a kayiroo, that peace,
fo wo se soto noo that he may obtain it,
wo le ya tinna n si feng koyoo fo aye. that is the reason why we [the diviners,
marabouts] can tell them (to prepare)
something white.
I se nono bondi, You may take out fermented milk,
wo bee a be kayiroo meng inola. all this is [represents] the (state of) peace
he is looking for.
I ye nna kumo moyi le? Do you understand my words?
I se nono bondi, You can take out fermented milk,
i se kayitoo bondi, you can take out writing paper,
i se sondoloo bondi, you can take out candles,
walla i se sukuroo bondi, or you can take out sugar,
walla i se maanikeso ining. or you can take out rice.
I yaa long You know,
a bee mu feng koyoo le ti. all these are white objects.
I se maani kesoo ining, i yaa ta, You can take out rice, you go,
i yaa dii moo la. and give it to a person.
I baa dii kee le la, You can give it a to man,
i baa dii la musoo be la, you can give it to a woman,
i baa dii la dindingo la, you can give it to a child,
walla i baa dii la kebaa le la. or you can give it to an elder.
A se wo bee funtandi noo. It reveals all this.
Bari a jamaa be jee kayiroo, But generally, it is peace,
a ka wo le saba i kang nang that is what it provides you with
puru meng saa tinna kayiroo si naa i so that peace may come upon you.
kang.
() ()

In the above example Yafay Man first notes the purpose of the use of white objects
in the praxis of sadaa: To prepare something white as sadaa, that is for the peace
[representing good luck, well-being, happiness] that he [the sadaa distributing person]
searches. In this regard, Yafay Mans explanations clearly confirm that the white

216
Sadaa

colour of elements such as fermented milk, writing paper, candles, sugar, and rice is
not accidental to the praxis of sadaa but one of its essential properties.
After having confirmed the significance of the colour white in the praxis of
sadaa, Man continued and further detailed his explanations, first by comparing the
meaning of white in objects with its meaning in dream experience, and then, by
contrasting it with the use of objects of another colour, especially red:

Feng koyoo, A white thing,


i yaa long feng koyoo, you know, a white thing,
komi misaalifee teng it is like
moo ning siiboota a person who dreams
I ya long jiyoo koyita le. You know, water is white.
Jiyoo la kuwo, The matter of water,
i siiboota jiyoo la, you dream of water,
kayiroo le mu wo ti. that is (a sign of) peace.
I siiboota tubaabo la walla Araaboo You dream of a European [i.e. a white]
person, or an Arab
? moo meng yaa long ko ? any person of which you know
a koyita komi tubaaboo? he is white like a European?
saa fo iye you will be told
i be kayiraa soto le. that you will have peace.
I ye nna kumoo moyi le? Do you understand my words?
Yoo, i ye feng koyoo je fanang, Yes, you see something white,
i ye bayoo je a koyita, you see cloth that is white,
walla i ye kayiti koyoo jee, or you see white paper,
walla i ye sondoloo jee, or you see a candle,
wo be muumee, all of this,
ning a yaa tara sarte i ye wo fo dorong, if it happens that you just say it,
i saa fo iye ko you will be told
i be kayira sotola le. that you will have peace.
Bari i be ing bola sadaa ti, But it is this that you take out as sadaa,
i be ing ne bola sadaa ti. that is what you will take out as sadaa.
I ye nna kumoo moyi le? Do you understand my words?
Yoo, feng koyoo, Yeah, a white thing,
komi i ye wo je dorong, that means if you just see it,
a munta bitung then
wo le mu kayiroo taamansee ti. that is the sign of peace.
Meng wuleeta That what is red,

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i ye wo je tumoo meng na dorong, every time you see it,


wo mu maasiboo tamansee le ti. that is the sign of bad luck [lit. a
calamity].
Komi misaalifee i siiboota Like, for instance, you dream
i ye diboo je. that you see a darkness.
I ye diboo je a be naa. You see a darkness coming toward you,
bari wo diboo ing a be naala a darkness which is coming,
fo a naata misaalifee coming as if
fo a ye i kunung it is swallowing you
bari bitung i maa kalango long. and you dont know anything about it.
Wo, doo be jee, That, and there are other things,
wo bee muumee mu kuu le ti all these are things which are,
meng yaa long ko as you know,
a mang koyi. are not clear [i.e. certain, lit. white].
Walla i ye i je le, Or you see
i ye i bandi, that you are ready
i ko i be taa, to go,
i mang taa noo. but you cannot walk.
I boyita, You fall,
ila singool bee a bee faata i koto, your legs are dying underneath yourself,
i mang taa noo, you cannot walk.
siiboo komo daal, A dream like that,
a munta sing te ila, you have almost no legs [i.e. ability to
walk],
wo bee muumee tout a la, all of this,
a be mu fenko le ti. is one of these issues [i.e. signs
indicating darkness, bad luck, calamity].
Bari feng koyoo () But a white thing ()
wo feng koyoo, that white thing,
wo tamansee wo toujours, that sign, toujours,
waati-o-waati a be kayiroo kono. always, it contains peace.
Wo mu kayiroo le ti. It is [indicates, means] peace.
I ya kalamuta? Do you understand?
Yoo, feng koyoo Yes, a white object
mu kayiroo damma le ti. only signifies peace.
Toujours, Toujours [always],
wo mu wo damma le ti. it is only that.
Bari ing komi kuroo wulengo, But something like a red kola nut,
tafaltafali, something like that,

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walla, i be juluboori fingo bolaa sadaa ti, or, you prepare black thread as sadaa,
walla bayi wulengo, or red cloth,
walla bayi fingo, or black cloth,
wo tout a, tout a [all that],
ning i yaa jube dorong, if you just look at it,
wo ka dung ne it enters
wo maari ning jawuyaa teema. between you and your enemy.
Bari ing fenko, But this
wo ma fenko le ti dorong. is only this.
Parce que Because
meng yaa tinna mool yaa bee je the reason why people
Tamanseero a ye meng dii The sign that has been given,
wo le yaa tiina that is the reason why
mool ka wo ke. people do it [i.e. prepare sadaa in the
described way].
() ()
Wo, meng yaa tinna mool ka fo ko feng The reason why people say that a red
wulengo mang beteyaa object is not good
i yaa long yeloo wuleeta le. you know that blood is red.
I yaa kalamuta? Do you understand?
A dung yeloo wo bota daa-wo-daa, Wherever blood is shed,
wo mang beteyaa. it is not good.

Summarizing Yafay Mans explanations, it becomes clear that the ritual efficacy and
tranformational value of sadaa rests to a large extent upon the symbolic value of the
colour of the objects used in this praxis. More precisely, the working of sadaa,
according to this type of explanations, relies upon a principle of analogy in the sense
that the taking out or distribution of an object of white or red colour is meant to
bring about a change in the state of affairs in the direction or in the way that is
commonly associated with one of these two colours: white objects attract peace
(kayiroo), that is, well-being in whatever matter the person is concerned about
(financial succes, health, finding the right partner for marriage, migration, etc.), while
red (and black) objects have a more defensive and protective function. This
analogical working of sadaa is also reflected in a statement by Al Hadji Sis, a
Gambian marabout whom I met in 2003. He explained the nature of the working of
sadaa by referring to the example of the use of fermented milk. According to him,

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what underpins the use of white objects in the praxis of sadaa is the idea that in the
same way as God has whitened the fermented milk (nono), the preparation and
distribution of it as sadaa will make that all your affairs will be whitened like that
(Allah Talla ye wo nono koyindi aameng, ila kuwool bee be tarala koyiring wo le
aa la.). Given the almost universal currency of the positive connotations of the
colour white, the association with or analogy between white and the improvement of
the subjects situation is not surprising. However, it is useful to compare the exact
characterizations that mark the colour white in the donational/sacrificial praxis in
culturally related contexts. Michael Jackson notes, for instance, that among the
Kuranko the whiteness of kola nuts signifies the spirit of amity and openness among
people (Jackson 1998: 69). The relevant point here is not so much that the Kuranko
conceptualizations confirm the positive meaning of white noticed in the Mandinka
(and Wolof) praxis of sadaa. It is rather that the understanding of the colour white as
a symbol for amity and openness reveals a dimension of meaning that is also
intrinsic to the notion of kairoo (peace), though this is easily overlooked: the positive
transformational symbolic value of white objects in the practice of sadaa is not only
the result of symbolic identifications between the colour white and live-giving
substances such as milk and semen but also of the cultural perception of white as the
symbolic expression of a positive relation between self and other, and thus of a
positive way of intersubjective being. From this perspective it also becomes evident
why, except for the fact of being white, different kinds of food, and especially meat
and cooked staples, are prescribed and used as sadaa. In the same way as kola nuts
(cf. the respective reflections in Chapter Two), bowls of porridge, rice, or plates of
millet cous-cous and meat are direct signs of sociality, commensality, of sharing
intimate social space, economic ressources, trust, recognition, and respect. As
embodiments of good relations and undisturbed social life they symbolize most
directly the positive existence the person requesting divinatory consultation is looking
for.

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Sadaa

Sharing Sadaa and the final Duwaa

Upon the acceptance of the objects offered as sadaa and before the consumption of
the food prepared for that purpose, the person or group of people who receives the
sadaa will pronounce an intercessive prayer (duwaa) for the giving person:

Example 6.2: Sadaa boolaal la duwaa, according to Kabiru Faty, Medina Souane,
Casamance, February 2004.

A ye sadaa bo meng kama, The reason for which he distributes sadaa,


Allah ma Allah yaa jaabi. that God may render it possible for him.

A ye meng nata jee kaiyroo to, That what he wishes for as (his) peace,
Allah ma Allah yaa dii ala. that God may give it to him.

A silanta meng na jee maasibo to, That that what he fears as his ill fortune,
Allah ma Allah yaa kama a ma. that God will spare him from that.

The practice of duwaa is not restricted to the context of divination and the distribution
of sadaa. Duwaa is also pronounced in order to ask for a safe arrival and return when
someone goes on a journey, for the well-being of someones children, upon the
reception of a gift, and at most ceremonies and formal meetings.90 The overt purpose
of duwaa (as well as sadaa) is to safeguard and enhance a persons well-being. It is
used in reaction to feelings or situations of uncertainty and motivated by pragmatic
interests. As a religious practice, however, duwaa also is an expression of an
encompassing ontological economy of prayer in which the world is conceptualized as
an arena of divine influence and governing. In this regard, duwaa, like other practices
of prayer, is not just a reaction to psychosocial conditions but also represents a
communicative route to self-absorption in the power () of divinity (Parkin 2000:
137). Both the pragmatic, psychological as well as the religious aspects of the praxis

90
For a similar account of the general importance of duwaa in Mandinka culture also cf.
Schaffer 1987: 40. For an interesting study of duwa and sadaqa in Zanzibar and on the
Swahili coast cf. Parkin 2002.

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Illustration 6.3: Kabiru Faty. Writing nasoo on a wooden board. The text and drawings are
later washed off into water and used for libations.

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Sadaa

of duwaa are important for the understanding of these practices. However, in both
perspectives duwaa (or prayer in general) is primarily considered from the position of
the praying person and his or her own subject-position and intentionality, and far less
from the perspective of the person for whom, as in the case of sadaa boolal la duwaa,
the prayer is pronounced for. In this regard, the pragmatic and religious
understanding of duwaa may be applied directly to the prayer pronounced by the
giving person when he attaches his nganiyo onto the objects of sadaa. However, it
does not yet allow us to grasp the significance of being prayed for. Consequently, in
order to understand why this final duwaa, articulated by those who receive sadaa for
the sake of the giving person, is so important, more than its pragmatic and subjective
religious aspects should be taken into consideration.
One of the aspects to be considered in this regard concerns the sociocultural
environment in which divinatory praxis operates. In Mandinka and Wolof society,
both in Senegal and in Gambia, individuals are inserted into complex and hierarchical
social networks based on kinship, residence, membership of a specific religious
community, professional caste, or, maybe more negotiable, particpation in certain
political and economic associations. The same is also true for the other ethnical
groups in the region (Pulaar, Serer, Balant, Manjak, Djola, etc.), although the concrete
ways in which these links are established, articulated, maintained, and manipulated
may vary. The insertion in societal structures takes place both factually as well as
ideologically. This has at least two important consequences. On the one hand, in a
social context that is characterized by a strong emphasis on hierarchies, relations of
deference, and intergenerational obligations, the individual is continously obliged to
take into account the wishes, advice, and orders of those who have authority over him,
as well as the interests of his or her family or community as a whole. On the other
hand, this emphasis on hierarchy and communality has an intracultural hegemonial
effect even on those relationships that are situated at the same hierarchical level. As a
result, occasions for the articulation of personal feelings, intentions, and the
individual pursuit of personal plans are often rare. What thus positively characterizes
divination in this cultural context is that it offers and opens up a space for such
articulation and pursuit of individual intentions, plans, and projects. Often the
divinatory encounter is the only available stage to do this. The difficulty that seems to

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pose itself here is that in a society that puts more emphasis on communal values than
on the pursuit of individual personal projects, these can be perceived and interpreted
as directed against the interest of the larger social context (family, community,
society). Personal intentions and their pursuit are, therefore, never morally neutral or
uncomplicated. In this regard it may be argued that the logic of sadaa relates not only
to the direct symbolic qualities of its objects but also situates itself on the level of the
relation between individual and society.
In this respect, both structural and existential aspects may play a role. On a
structural level, what the practice of sadaa and (the final) duwaa seem to indicate is
that in so far as divination offers what I have a called an intentional space, i.e. a
space where individual wishes, concerns, and difficulties may be adressed, this
pursuit of individual interests through divination seems to necessitate a
complementary ritual action that allows the subject to prevent the rupture of his social
ties by reinscribing himself symbolically, through the distribution of sadaa, into the
the social fabric of the Mitwelt he is part of and dependent upon. Existentially, as
Michael Jackson writes in a concise but profound analysis of the practice of sadaqa
and ancestral sacrifice among the Kuranko of Sierra Leone, this reinscription into the
intersubjective lifeworld through the taking out of sadaa (sadaa bondi) implies not
only a conscious attempt to reaffirm ones ties with the larger community but
constitutes a (symbolic) self- sacrifice:

In Kuranko sacrifice the gift is said to be taken out of oneself; it embodies ones
deepest intentionality? a fervent, focused, and sometimes desperate concern to
consummate in ones relationship with God or ones neighbors a totally unguarded
openness of spirit. But this eclipse of self, this relinquishment and abnegation of ones
idiosyncratic identity, must be understood existentially. In sacrifice, what is yielded and
immolated is ones selfhood. Sacrifice is a form of self-effacement; suicide is its logical
extreme. The giving of life of an animal one owns (which is metonymically ones self)
simply mediates and objectifies vita pro vita this occlusion and absenting of self. But
which goes from ones self augments ones sense of the ancestral or divine field of which
one is a part. It restores to the ancestors both presence and force. If misfortune is a result
of forgetting ones place in the field of ancestral being, then expiation necessitates a self-
forgetting and, as a corrolary, a recollection of the others in whose hands ones identity
and destiny ultimately lie. The ancestral and divine domain is the temporal equivalent of
the social space in which one stands? the space of ones kin and community.

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In a very real sense, sacrifice is a way of ritually countermanding situations in which a


person has come to stand outside his or her society. Such ecstatic situations may arise
from death, illness, and ill fortune, or from any new departure in life? brush cutting to
create a new farm, building a house, going on a journey, initiating a child, or contesting
political office. If such events are experienced as singular or aberrant, isolating or singling
one out from others, sacrifice mediates an experience of reincorporation and reabsorption
into enstatic normalcy. Like all rituals, sacrifice simply exaggerates the ecstatic and
enstatic extremes in order to promote a transformation in experience from being alone and
estranged to recovering ones place within.
(Jackson 1998: 72-73)

Although the ancestral dimension of Kuranko sacrifice that Jackson describes seems
to have been superseded completely by Islamic terminology and modes of experience
in Mandinka society, Jacksons analysis of sadaqa as sacrifice among the Kuranko
can equally be applied to the practice of sadaqa as charity in the Mandinka context.
In other words, in so far as the main difference between the Kuranko and Mandinka
practice of sadaqa consists in the replacement of a system of reference that is both
ancestral and monotheistic/Islamic to one exclusively monotheistic/Islamic, the
difference between these two forms of ritual practice seems to be more a question of
the degree of abstraction employed in the respective sociocultural context rather than
its essential existential meaning. More specifically, the comparison of the
employment of the ritual institution of sadaqa in Kuranko and Mandinka society
indicates that both ancestral and monotheistic practices reflect the symbolic-structural
dependence of the individual person from an intersubjective Other (ones ancestors,
God, but also ones concrete social environment). In this regard, both practices entail
the same fundamental cultural insight into the intersubjective constitution of the
individual subject.
Seen as a means for generating intersubjective relations and re-integration
through symbolic self-effacement, it also becomes clear why the the distribution of
sadaa is responded to by an intercessive prayer of those who receive it. Although the
efficacy of the ritual gesture of distributing sadaa may not depend upon the final
intercessive prayer of those who receive it since it is already entailed in the act of
giving itself, the final duwaa symbolically and factually completes the ontological
transition from enstrangement and isolation to intersubjective fullness which the

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distribution of sadaa is aiming at. On the one hand, this completion through the final
duwaa is factual in so far as the act of sadaa that it precedes is not only symbolic but
consists of the concrete reception of gifts or communal consumption of a meal. In this
sense, the final duwaa that precedes the reception of sadaa announces the concrete
reintegration of the person into his social environment about to be realized by the
acceptance and consumption of his gift. On the other hand, the duwaa for the person
who takes out sadaa (sadaa boolal la duwaa) and the reception of sadaa are deeply
symbolic as the receiving person metonymically stands for the larger intersubjective
Other (God, ones ancestors, the larger social community) whose help is asked for by
the offering subject. In this sense, the final duwaa pronounced by the receiving person
symbolically realizes the acceptance of the subjects gift or sacrifice by God or ones
ancestors. In many traditions this acceptance is not just seen as the condition for the
effective working of the sacrificial act. It also represents the sign that what has been
asked for has been granted. In this regard, maybe, the meaning of sadaa in divination
also lies in its immediacy. Where the divinatory encounter is prospective, time-
making, and constitutive of a cultural space of hope, sadaa not only predicts but
immediately changes the the situation of the subject by transforming his
(inter)subjective situatedness and being-in-the-world: If you take out sadaa, all your
affairs are calm. Everything falls into place. Sadaa is like that.91

Closing the Ritual Process: Sadaa as Integration

We have seen that the praxis of sadaa consists of three phases: (1) the reattachment of
ones intention, wish, or longing onto the objects of sadaa (nganiyaa sitoo) which is
pronounced in the form of duwaa by the person fulfilling the ritual prescription
received during divinatory consultation, (2) the actual distribution and consumption of
the distributed sadaa which brings into play the symbolic/performative qualities of
the material corpus of this praxis, and (3) the intercessive prayer pronounced by the
receiving person(s) for the sake of the giving individual (sadaa boolaal la duwaa).

91
Ning i yaa bo bola sadaati, ila kuwool bee ye tenkung. bee ye kafu ooma. Sadaa ka
tara teng. (Kabiru Faty, February 2004).

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Although, in most cases, these three phases can be clearly distinguished from each
other, the analysis has also shown that the cultural meaning and ritual efficacy of
duwaa and of the actual distribution and consumption of sadaa intersect, build on
each other, and unite in the aim to heal the (persons) concern (ka haaji jaaroo).
These ritual means augment each others efficacy and ultimately contribute to the
same process of bringing about the changes the subject longs for. In short, as Bamba
Camara pointed out to me in one of our conversations, sadaa and duwaa [charity and
prayer] go together (sadaa a ning duwaa la ka taa oola).
Bringing together and extending the analysis of the different elements
touched upon so far, in this final section of the present analysis I will now consider
the praxis of sadaa and duwaa not in its separate internal phases but, more
pronouncedly than before, in relation to the processual unfolding of the divinatory
encounter as a whole. The process that starts with the articulation of nganiyo, is
followed by the divinatory enunciation and dialogue, and ends with the distribution of
sadaa. In other words, I will look at sadaa as a final performative gesture that brings
the divinatory process to its (at least provisional) end.

The frequent use of food in the praxis of sadaa indicates its relation to the notions and
experience of commensality and reciprocity that, in Senegal as much as elsewhere,
constitute the ideal quality of intersubjective life in cultural fields such as the family
life, kinship relations, religious community, as well as, society as a whole. Although it
is clear for all participants that the social harmony that these principles invoke is not
always realized in daily life, the reference to and the invocation of these cultural
ideals in the distribution of sadaa is not just a symbolic or ideological gesture.
Because of its unfolding in concrete situations of social interaction, it constitutes an
important and tangible reactualization of the ideals to which it symbolically refers. In
this context, it may even be argued that, although the principles of commensality and
reciprocity are increasingly difficult to put into practice due to precarious socio-
economic conditions and a simultaneous fragmentation of traditional patterns of
communal solidarity, the experiential basis of these ideals may actually shift from the
lived realities of family life, kinship relations, and community to the ritual moments
in which they are symbolically reenacted and reactualized. Or, to put it in different

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words, the more life gets difficult, the more the (re)experience of fruitful sociality in
ritual becomes important.
How exactly does this relate to the situation of the person who turns to
divinatory consultation for dealing with issues such as unemployment, illness, or the
wish to gain access to an economically more prosperous situation by migrating to
Europe or the North America? At the end of his study of Ndembu divinatory
symbolism, Victor Turner describes divination as the central phase of a larger social
process consisting of five steps: (1) the event or condition that represents the reason
for consultation (a persons death, illness, misfortune at hunting, etc.), (2) discussions
in the concerned subjects immediate social surroundings concerning the cause and
subsequent treatment of the respective event or condition, (3) the journey to the
diviner, (4) the divinatory consultation itself, and (5) the execution of the remedial
action prescribed by the diviner (Turner1975 [1961]: 234). Within this process,
Turner writes, divination works as a form of social analysis, in the course of which
hidden conflicts between person and factions are brought to light, so that they may be
dealt with by traditional and institutionalized procedures and thus takes on the
function of a mechanism of social redress (Turner1975 [1961]: 235). For two
different reasons, Turners socio-functional view on divination seems of limited value
for the present analysis. First, unlike the Ndembu and other central African societies,
in the Senegambian context divination is more concerned with individual problems
than with conflicts relating to kinship related and other social sores. Therefore, to
speak of Senegambian divination as a form of social redress would be misleading.
Second, critics of Turners view have argued that his understanding of divination as a
mechanism of social redress overemphasizes the finality of the divinatory process and
overlooks the fact that in most cases the consultation of a diviner forms but one of
several steps in a longer and much more complex search for social consensus, which
often implies the consultation of more than one diviner, further internal discussions,
and decisions in the politico-judicial domain (represented, for instance, by a council
of elders). But more often than not, this in itself may even create further tensions in
the social group and enhance the existing crisis (De Boeck & Devisch 1994: 108-
110). While, in the Senegambian context, I have not the impression that conflictual
personal situations become in any sense worse by divinatory consultation, the

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warning not to overestimate the finality of the divinatory process also applies here.
Here too, the search for resolving a certain problem or realizing a specific intention
often demands more than one consultation and may entail the consultation of several
different diviners over a course of time. And in some cases the consultations and
ritual remedies never bring about the results the person had originally wished for. On
the other hand, I would argue that Turners emphasis on the socio-functional value of
divination remains useful because it allows us to recognize that, in practice, for the
persons engaging in it, as well as in terms of its overt programmatics, the meaning of
divinatory praxis is never abstract but remains related to a concrete situated concern
or conflict and is based upon the conviction that, at least ideally, the divinatory
inquiry, and the application of the ritual measures prescribed in its course, will
contribute to the situations resolution. Furthermore, even if it puts too much
emphasis on the finality of single consultational events, Turners emphasis on social
processes remains useful as it brings the larger processual nature of divination more
into the foreground, i.e. the fact that the significance of the divinatory encounter is not
exclusively embedded within the divinatory space itself but also fundamentally relates
to the conditions that preceded the consultation, its outcome, and that what one hopes
to gain from it. The most remarkable aspect of the praxis of divination in the
Senegambian context is, however, not only its relation to concrete and socioculturally
situated concerns (such as the general socioeconomic struggle for a better life,
personal well-being, and access to the world referred to in the previous chapter), but
its remolding of the process of subject-(trans)formation within the processual
structure of the divinatory encounter:
Already in the first chapter of this study we saw that, according to the
geomantic system, the intention (nganiyo) and situated concern (hajoo) of the subject
are perceived as being rooted in a condition of subjective woundedness or soul-
injury (niitooroo). Applying Van Genneps classical model of the ritual process as
consisting of a phase of separation, a liminal phase, and the reintegration into a new
reality (Van Gennep 1969 [1909]: 27), one could say that being rooted in the
condition of niitooroo, the silent articulation of the nganiyo at the beginning of the
divinatory consultation could be seen as represents the initial separation the person
has to undergo in order to become transformed in the subsequently further unfolding

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ritual process. As a search for a new understanding of the clients situation, its
possibilities, and its potential to come up with insights that reshape the person
understanding of himself and thereby transform his situation and self-understanding,
the consultation itself represents the liminal phase in which things are ambivalent and
transgressive. Through this process, the divinatory enunciation announces new
realities. This is followed by the reintegration of the person into a new and changed
(subjective) world by the means of sadaa which in the form ofa shared meal, for
instance, exemplifies the typical integrational rite that follows rites for the
procuration of future security (Van Gennep 1969 [1909]: 31). At the same time, it
represents and forms, as I have argued above, an act of commensality. And
commensality itself is, according to Van Gennep is itself a rite of aggregation and of
material union (Van Gennep 1969 [1909]: 39-40). Seen in such a light, not unlike an
initiation or other life-cycle ritual, divination entails in its terminology and factual
unfolding the properties of a typical rite of passage in which the person and lifeworld
are transformed and imbued with new meaning. In this sense, the praxis of sadaa as a
reinscription of the subject in the intersubjective order of the social Mitwelt ritually
finalizes, as a rite of (re)integration, the ritual process of transition from affliction and
uncertainty to autonomy and self-realization that characterizes Senegambian
divinatory praxis as a whole. Sadaa has been taken out. The world has been
transformed.

A banta le. It is finished.

230
Comparative Glossary of Divinatory Terms
(Mandinka/Wolof)

The glossary is not meant to be exhaustive. Only those terms have been included
which were actually used in divinatory consultations, interviews/lessons with
diviners, or during post-consultational interviews. There where no equivalent is given
in Wolof or Mandinka this does thus not necessarily mean that no equivalent term
exists, or that it is is not used in a similar way, but simply that it was not mentioned
during the consultations and interviews that make up the material upon which this
study is based. The glossary allows recognizing the parallelism of the divinatory
terminologies used in Mandinka and Wolof and thus shows the transethnic character
of maraboutic divinatory praxis and technology. 92

I. General Terms

afang serigne Title referring to traditionally educated Islamic


clerics/scholars.
bitarlaa Diviner.
bitaroo giisaane Synonymous with jubeeroo/seet. Literally, the act of
lighting up, i.e. making visible.
jubeeroo seet Divination, clairvoyance. Literally, the act of looking at.
juberlaa seet-kat Diviner.
moro serigne Marabout, Islamic cleric and scholar. The term
commonly used to adress a Muslim diviner, independent
of his individual levels of literacy and religious
education.

92
The comparison with a similar list of divination related terms in Pulaar, presented by
Liliane Kuczynski in her study of West African marabouts in Paris (Kuczynski: 2002:
429-432), shows that this parallelism of divinatory discourses also applies to other
languages spoken in Senegal and Gambia and probably also to other regions in West
Africa where the respective languages, or varieties of these languages, are used, such as
Mali, Guinea-Bissau, Guinea, Sierra Leone, or Liberia. In this regard, West African
maraboutic divination is both a transethnic as well as transregional ritual technology.
Glossary

II. Frequently Used Divinatory Techniques and Paraphernalia

Basoo Divination by the use of a small mat.


nding la
jubeeroo
kurungfayo pettaw Divination by the use of cowrie shells.
kurungo pettaw Cowrie shells.
listikaroo listixar Dream divination. From the Arabic istikhara.
ramalu ramalu Islamic geomancy. Derived from the Arabic darb ar-
raml or khatt ar-raml, the beating of the sand or sand-
writing.
sulufayo/ Divination by the use of roots or sticks.
sulobula
tasabayo la Divination by the use of prayer beads.
jubeeroo
tiyafatofayo Divination by the use of groundnut shells.

III. Structural terms

haajo aajo The need or issue that forms the object of the subjetcs
intention. Derived from the Arabic haja. Often used as a
synonom for nganiyo.
hakiloo Mind. Derived from the Arabic aql.
hammo soxla Wish, aspiration, ambition.
harjee wrsek Good luck, chance.
jikoo yakaar Hope.
lafoo bgg-bgg, Wish, desire.
linga bgg
nganiyo yeene Intention, wish, longing, desire, etc. The reason for
consultation, to be pronounced silently upon the
divinatory paraphernalia. Derived from the synonomous
Arabic niyya.
niitooroo Sadness, disappointment, trauma. Lit. soul-injury.
sondomoo Heart.

IV. Ritual Remedies

duwa duwa Supplicative prayer pronounced for the benefit and


well-being of an individual person. Duwa is
pronounced (1) by the diviner/marabout for his client
or follower; (2) the client when attaching his or her
nganiyo to an object and thereby designating it as
sadaa (ka nganyio siti), and (3) those who receive
sadaa. Duwa is not restricted to divination but an
important part of religious life in general. Derived
from the Arabic dua. The term remains unchanged in

232
Glossary

Mandinka and Wolof except of the non-guttural


pronounciation of the letter ein and the fact that the
final glottal stop (hamza) of the original Arabic word
is dropped.
nasoo saafara Similar texts and drawings as that which are used for
safeo/tere but written on a wooden board and then
washed off into a bowl of water. The water is
considered to have protective and therapeutic qualities
and is used for libations and ablutions.
sadaa sarax Charity, sacifice, or offering. From the Arabic sadaqa.
The main ritual remedy referred to in divinatory
consultation.
safeo tere Protective amulet made from Koranic verses, esoteric
texts and drawings, wrapped in leather, and to be worn
on the body. Lit. something written.

V. Interpretatory Categories and Divinatory Signs93

wosin To give birth.


nitti guddi Person of the night. A synonym for sorcerer.
xal mu dal Equanimity, tranquility, inner peace.
sikisaka Zig-zag. Hesitation.
bagaas Lit. luggage, referring to personal possessions, material
wealth.
(futu wo sey bu tas A dispersed marriage, divorce.
ming banta)
bitangool ngoro Ones in-laws.
buwa dm Sorcerer.
diyaamu catt Ill-intended speech of others. Literally, the Mandinka
term means speaking..
futuu iima sey bu nex A good marriage.
or or
futuu kendo sey bu bax.
hakiloo xel bu Hesitation.
mang werente
tenkung
hakiloo xel aar Hesitation. Lit. a mixed mind (Mand.) or (being of)
aamita two minds (Wolof).
jakaloo jaxle State of confusion, being undetermined, unsure about
which action to take in order to approach a certain
problem.
jamfaa wor Betrayal.
jawo noon Enemy.
kairoo jamm peace

93
For more detailed explanations for many of the here mentioned categories and their
appearance in cowrie-divination compare also Chapter Two.

233
Glossary

kibaaro kibaar Lit. news, often announcing a letter or telephone call.


koddo xalis Money.
kono bir Belly or stomach, used as a synonym for the state of
pregnancy.
kordaa/suo kr Compound, homestead, or house.
lungtango gan A visitor, guest.
maloo rus Feeling of shame.
mool daa lami Peoples mouths (Mand.). Tongue (Wolof). Both
expressions are used as synonyms for catt.
oomuto japante A fight, both literally and metaphorically.
plaasoo plas Position in a company or institution, job opportunity,
salaried work.
saasa or feybar Illness, sickness, disease.
kuurango
siiboo gnt Dream.
simayaa gudd fan Long-life.
songko xulo Discussion, argument.
taamasiloo yoonu The Path of Travel, today mainly indicating travel
tukki outside ones country of origin (especially Europe,
North America, and the Arab world), migration.

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