I just had a conversation about tribal marks. Why do people have them? I don’t have any, and I find that people in my social and economic class at home generally don’t have them either. But it is definitely far from being a dead tradition. So the obvious question, why do we give tribal marks still? The not so obvious question that comes to my mind, however, is why do we question?
The answer to the first question is relatively simple; it’s tradition. Where did this tradition come from? Let me replicate a story I read a long time ago, that sought to give an “explanation.” Names have been changed, and I would love to credit the original author, but I really can’t remember where I even read the story in the first place. But here goes:
Diallo would not stop running. He grasped his daughter’s hand firmly with one hand, with the other he hacked away at the bush in front of them. He had thought the bush would swallow them, hide them, maybe save them. It didn’t. It seemed to conspire against them. The African bush was in cahoots with the white man. That was Diallo’s bitter thought as he hacked away at more bush. This path had always been so clear on his hunting expeditions, but now…. He tightened his grip on Ramatoulaye’s hand. She wasn’t crying. But then again why should she? She was 14 years old. A woman. Beautiful. She had the clearest coffee brown skin in the village, smooth skin like her mother’s had been. He had loved her mother. They had taken her while he was away on a hunting expedition. She had hidden Ramatoulaye just before the slave traders had come. Diallo thought about the armed men who raided villages. Very few of them were white. What made people do that to their brothers, to their own people? “How much do you get paid to work for this white devil?” He had wanted to ask. But he knew he would never get the chance to query one of them. If the opportunity ever came, he would simply kill the man and walk away. No questions.
Ramatoulaye had not uttered a sound. She knew what was happening. If these people caught her, they would take her away. She had heard the stories…
Diallo knew he would rather die than be taken. But his daughter, his precious, beautiful Ramatoulaye. There was only one way. If they didn’t want her, they wouldn’t take her. If they couldn’t sell her, they wouldn’t want her. He caressed the smooth brown arm. He didn’t say anything as he tied her to the tree. He could hear the men, almost upon them. Here in the bush, the bush which he had thought would be his salvation…. Diallo shut his ears to his daughter’s screams as he made the first cut, and then the second, and on and on until she was covered in several superficial cuts all over her body. They wouldn’t want her now. She would be free. They were all around him. He grasped the bloody dagger firmly and turned to face his attackers….
So that was my rendition of the story, the only thing that has come close to explaining where this tradition may have come from. Please be aware that this narrative is entirely fictional and doesn’t claim to be the actual reason. But that is really not my focus here anyway. The question that I am more interested in is the second one, why do we question? Wasn’t there a time when “that’s our culture” was explanation enough? But today everything has to be relevant to ‘our time.’ What significance does it have now? Is it something archaic that should be disarded? I’m not sure how I feel about that fact that we ask these questions so much these days. These questions apply to a lot of cultural practices like FGM which have no satisfactory or even humane answer. So we should question them should we not? But where does the line get drawn? While we’re at it, why don’t we question everything? Let’s question language and names and clothing and festivals. Where do we stop? Where are we justified and where are we not?
I think the argument can certainly be put forward that our self-criticism and questioning of so many aspects of our culture are a direct result of neo-colonialism and the colonial legacy. We just don’t see it as such because of the success of these influences. I have been reading too much Ngugi maybe? 
So this my second question is clearly hard enough to answer. Perhaps a go at my first one would shed more light? Why do we give tribal marks?
