If you heard the word ‘calabash’, would you immediately know what was meant? Although it has been around for at least 4,000 years, very little information is available about this ancient vessel. Essentially the dried-out and sturdy yet lightweight shell of a fruit known as Lagenaria siceraria, a type of gourd, it has long served a multitude of purposes. But, it is also a powerful symbol of womanhood. So what exactly is its draw for African women, and how does it reinforce their sense of self?
A timeless gourd
The calabash is still used widely today and is an indispensable part of the African cultural heritage. This fruit was one of the first crops that man harvested. It takes time to mature but can then be hollowed out and sun-dried, ready for use. Its natural green hue will eventually fade, and its exterior will harden – making it an ideal vessel. In African society, it is used for storing or serving food and is a marker of wealth and power when used to proffer water, milk or kola nuts to guests.
This versatile crop doubles up as a money box for market sellers, as well as an inkpot and cosmetics container. And it can be carved into a multitude of musical instruments, including a harp, violin or a rattle – with its seeds sometimes bestowing its music-making quality.
You can often spot the Fulani women of northern Nigeria carrying beautifully decorated calabashes (known as kwarya in the local Hausa language). Certain Fulani peoples living in northeastern Nigeria carry calabashes distinctive for their deep red or orange colour and thick black geometric pattern, which is engraved with hot knives.
Today’s calabashes are used at restaurants for serving tourists traditional dishes, or for decorative purposes, providing sophisticated works of art for the home. They are engraved by hand, with darker dyes being used to bring out the chosen designs. While easy to maintain, calabashes should be dried after washing and not left to soak as this can jeopardise their structural integrity. What is more, they are often regarded as a planet saver. Unlike plastic, their natural material is fully decomposable and non-polluting. And once it breaks or is no longer fit for purpose, it can simply be replaced, no harm is done.
The cosmos and womanhood
Besides its day-to-day utility, the calabash also holds a spiritual significance that is still upheld by African traditionalists today. This sacred vessel is inherent in Yoruba cosmogony, which sees a likeness in the two halves of a calabash. The belief is that it recalls goddess of the Earth Odudwa and her husband Obatala, the god of the skies. Moreover, Nigerian scholar Babatunde Lawal reinforces the belief that the top half of the gourd represents maleness (or ako) and the world’s invisible spirits, while the bottom half stands for femaleness (or abo). And that the two halves are held suspended in space through a powerful force known as àse, which keeps the world in perfect harmony.
Further, the gourd’s shape is likened to the female form and uterus and is hailed as an emblem of fertility. As a result, the container is commonly used in fertility and initiation rituals for girls as they grow into women. The engravings, then, are not merely beautiful artworks but also used to invoke the powers that be to help women conceive. To do this, Animist preachers use the calabash for sacrificial offerings to the ancestors whose blessings they seek.
Emma Rice takes this idea a step further in her academic paper. She argues that Yoruba women can themselves be seen as vessels, the calabash a metaphor for ‘women as containers of their own gendered identity’. She posits that Yoruba women are held to a different standard than they are in the West, their bodies vessels that conceal elements of an inherent female identity.
She considers the calabash’s liquid contents an emblem for fluid gender identity – put simply, a metaphor for the Yoruba women’s body as a hollow that will eventually house her progeny; a vessel for her maternity. Rice believes that, much like a ritual calabash, a woman’s body has the potential to hold both good and evil, with the power to shore up – or indeed destroy – Yoruba society. In this way, her calabash-Esque body holds the essence of her identity (and power) as a woman.
Furthermore, while a young Yoruba woman’s mind acts as a repository for her intelligence and secrets, her womb is a container for the blood that will give life to society. Whether or not we subscribe to the notion that women’s bodies are powerful vessels, this does much to underscore their social purpose (maternity) in African society and the respect that garners. Conversely, an older woman with a ‘blocked womb’ is regarded as dangerous given her ability to use a life’s worth of knowledge to ‘destabilise societal balance through her application of witchcraft’.
A pan-African musical legacy
One older African woman, however, utilized the calabash as a means of creative expression: Madeleine Yayodele Nelson, or ‘Yayo’ to those who knew her best. She was the frontwoman behind her 1978-founded Women of the Calabash, a musical company of percussionists and singers that celebrated the music of Africa and its diaspora for over three decades. A beacon of womanhood for pan-African females. It was her newfound instrument’s hollow sounds and variable pitch that would launch her wildly successful career as a performer par excellence.
Nelson broke the mould with the shekere, an instrument that was traditionally a male preserve – that is until she happened upon it one day in a New York City park. She learned how to handcraft and play this dried, bead-covered gourd, serving as an inspiration to many through her workshops and one-on-one tuition. And all of it with no formal musical training. And her own inspiration? In part, the Black Power movement of the 1960s and 70s, which afforded her the opportunity to pay tribute to traditional Yoruba sounds and would lay the groundwork for her own musical education.
The shekere has since been popularized by the likes of beloved Nigerian Afropop artist Yemi Alade, who has even dedicated a song to the instrument.
No matter what purpose this versatile sun-dried fruit may serve – be it as a food container, vessel of life, or a way to delight music enthusiasts – it is here to stay. Do you have a story to tell about another little-known African instrument? And what significance does it hold for you?
Sources:
https://www.culturesofwestafrica.com/calabash-cultural-cosmological-constant/
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/24/obituaries/madeleine-yayodele-nelson-69-percussion-groups-founder-dies.html
https://www.moyimag.com/full-magazine-issue/
https://africaglobalnews.com/history-of-the-african-calabash/
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/science/phenomena/2014/02/10/planet-calabash/
