Chapter Thirty: Coronation

The day Rabbeh rode into the city of Dikwa as the new Mai and ruler was not a to be forgotten in a hurry. He rode majestically, waving to cheering crowds, his shoulders squared, his gaze confident, on a regally decorated horse. He wore the complete ceremonial royal regalia of the Mai; a delicately handwoven white Kaftan, a bejewelled blackcap with a white sash around it, and tanned leather sandals from the famous Kano royal tannery, tastefully encrusted with precious stones. The signet ring on his index finger sparkled each time he waved to salute the crowd. He wore a dark grey Alkibba – a royal cape – for kings and princes only, over the white Kaftan. And held, a golden sceptre six feet long on his left hand. It was rumoured that it could be transformed into a spear or sword depending on what he wanted. Everything about him was magnificent. He was a handsome and clean-shaven man.   

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He was flanked by Hayah on his right and Abdou on his left, both also dressed to the nines, wearing royal alkibbas and riding on beautifully decorated horses. They were followed by a procession of his soldiers riding behind them, sharp in their newly made dusty brown uniforms and dark brown turbans. It was a sight to behold.

The streets were lined with people from the city gate to the royal palace. This time, there was no need to break the gate down, they were opened to them willingly – gladly welcomed into the city by the people with songs of joy and praise for their new king as he made his victorious entry into town. As he passed by them, they prostrated to greet him, then rose to chant:

“Allah zaman nema sera.”

“Allah nya kolze.”

“Kanadiya yilaan.”

He waved as he passed by them. Traditional dancers from the different tribes of the kingdom were also there in beautiful colours and showcased their talents, as if in a trance, their steps were in sync with the rhythmic sounds of drum and song, entertaining a victorious king and a cheerful crowd, alike. The city itself wore a colourful look, beckoning to every happy soul to come in and be merry.

Young women of different ages also joined, dressed beautifully in their best clothes and elaborate makeup, lined the streets as well. Most of them had heard the rumour and wondered if it was indeed true that the new Mai was a very handsome bachelor – and they all fancied their chances of becoming the next queen. They sang loudly, smiled broadly and twerked their hips seductively to outshine each other to get his attention. And if by chance they missed the king’s royal eyes, his son would do. The attention-seeking show by the Dikwa maidens was both amusing and fierce.    

The procession rode slowly, but steadily to the majestic palace of Dikwa where Rabbeh would rule as king. A few weeks earlier, massive renovations had been commissioned in order to get it ready for the new Mai. A few of Rabbeh’s soldiers went to inspect the work being done to make sure that everything was according to his taste.

The palace was very large, the largest in the whole Southern Sudan. Not surprisingly, it housed the Mai. The interior followed the designs of the most prominent palaces at the time. It contained the Mai’s apartment, those of his wives, and those of the several servants living in the palace. The Mai’s apartment, of course was the grandest. It included his formal Court where he received his guests and held meetings. A short distance away, was the scenic view of the horse stables and the slave quarters, and the gardens. Everything was grand.

The exterior of the palace, however, was different. Its colour was grey, taken from the from the grey desert mud used to build it. The front of the palace was square shaped with offices for the palace guards and announcers. The conspicuous presence of heavily armed guards otherwise known as Dogaris at either side of the main entrance, wearing green uniforms with black turbans on their heads, completed the picture.

On reaching the palace, Rabbeh and his entourage dismounted from their horses and went straight into the large Court where his coronation was to take place. There were guards everywhere and an announcer dutifully proclaimed his arrival and that of his entourage. One of the royal guards led him into the hall, which was already filled to the brim with nobles. From their royal Alkibbas, one could tell they were all kings and princes from all over the kingdom who had come to pay homage to him and to witness his coronation. They all started to chant his praise and as soon as he entered the court, they bowed their heads.

The royal guard led Rabbeh to the few steps of the large golden throne and briskly turned away. Everyone in the room stood up as a sign of respect while the royal guards extended their babban rigas with their backs to him to cover him from view as he sat on the throne. According to tradition, no one was allowed to see the king as he seats on the throne to forestall the embarrassing situation where, per chance, he missed his step and falls.

Among the crowd were the kingmakers and the different Imams from all over the empire, including the Chief Imam.  Hayah and Abdou sat on the rug carpet like everybody else, only closer to the king to show their importance. One after the other, the dignitaries rose from their sitting position to go before the king, to bow in homage and pledge their allegiance. As they took turns, the announcer would introduce each person loudly for everyone to hear. That way, any noble who failed to show up it would be known to everyone and taken as rebellion or possibly as an act of rebellion.

With the introductions and homages over, the Chief Imam rose to his feet and said a prayer, welcomed the king again, effectively signalled the start of the coronation ceremony.

The Baraya–first amongst equals–of the kingmakers stepped forward to crown the new Mai. In his hand was a long white silk sash, but first, he carefully unwrapped the one on Rabbeh’s blackcap to replace it with the new one. Proceeding from the right-hand side, with uncommon skill, he wrapped the sash around the new Mai’s head several times until he was satisfied that it held, then he guided the loose length of the sash down his chin and this time, wrapped it loosely only once around his neck with the tail-end resting on the Mai’s cape in front. Done. Rabbeh had been formally crowned Mai of the Kanem-Borno empire. While that was going on, the Chief Imam was heard in the background offering prayers for the empire and for the new Mai; for long life and wisdom to rule his people. For his dynasty to continue for generations. For the peace and prosperity of the kingdom. For victory over all enemies of the kingdom. At the end of the prayer, the ancestral sceptre of authority was presented to Rabbeh by Baraya. Long live the Mai, First-class ruler of the Kanem-Borno empire.

“If only my father could see me now,” Rabbeh smiled.

When the Baraya and the Imam were done, the announcer loudly proclaimed the crowning of the new Mai of Kanem-Borno to all and sundry. Another announcer in the courtyard relayed the tidings for those people in the palace and then another announcer outside the palace did the same for those outside the palace, until the tidings reached the farthest recesses of the empire.

Suddenly, the sounds of loud trumpets, of drum beats, of dance-steps stomping the ground, shrill cheers, pushcarts wheeling with food for everyone, and celebrations escalating all over the capital. A day like no other. 

Inside the coronation hall, the minor kings and chiefs representing different districts of Kanem-Borno rose and went over to the Mai, one after the other to congratulate him and present the gifts they brought for him. The gifts were usually collected from farmers, cattle herders, traders, craftsmen and so on, to be given to the Mai as a sign of goodwill. Whatever was accumulated was then taken to the Mai by the chief as a gift from his own district.

The Sarkin Fulani-political head of the Fulani-brought as gift, a herd of one hundred well-fed cows, twenty large calabashes of fresh cowmilk and two donkey-loads of cheese. From the Shuwa Chief came two donkeys loaded with perfumes, incense, salt and an assortment of trinkets. The Sarkin Hausawa on his part gave two bales of clothes, hides and skins, and fifty bags of Maize and millet. And the gifts kept pouring in. Each gift or group of gifts was acknowledged and announced to everyone’s hearing. It was Hayah’s duty as the right-hand man of the Mai to accept the gifts on his behalf. Which he always did with the words: Maiye askerzena, meaning, “the Mai appreciates you”. It was considered trivial for the Mai to respond personally to the chiefs on such matters.

The chief recorder sat quietly at the far end of the royal court taking records of every gift received on behalf of the Mai while the royal storekeeper sitting not too far from the entrance was busy giving instructions to his servants through pre-arranged signals on what to do. These two men were

in charge of everything that went in and out of the storehouse, to ensure that there was no theft or wastage of any kind. At the end of it all, Rabbeh received enough gifts to sustain a small community for one whole year.

The Mai and all his chiefs moved to the royal mosque to perform the Zuhr prayer, led by the Chief Imam. After the prayer, the Qur’an was recited at length until it was time for the Asr prayer which they observed.

When they were done praying, they moved once more to the front of the palace where the celebratory horse racing known as Kilisa was about to take place. The crowd was already gathered in anticipation of an exciting event. A small throne was placed at the front of the palace for the king, while wooden stools were arranged on both sides of the throne, for his noble guests. The rest of the crowd were to stand. It was arranged this way to give everyone a better view of the Kilisa that was about to take place.

Each district within the empire was represented by two of their best horsemen for the race. Most of the jockeys came for the competition on elaborately decorated Arabian well-bred horses owned by local chiefs. Prized possessions for such occasions probably bought along the Trans-Saharan trade route between Kanem-Borno and the Sudan - a stronghold of the empire’s economy.

There was a lot at stake for the young riders of mostly between twenty and forty years of age. Honour. The pride of their people. Sudden wealth. The pain of defeat. The joy of victory. The prizes to be won were only for the riders that came first, second and third. Nothing was given to the competitors beyond that. There was palpable excitement in the air.

It was customary for each horseman to dismount and walk to a short distance from the Mai, take a bow just as his name and the district he was representing was being announced loudly, then to return to mount his horse, and take a position. With all competitors back in position, the start of the race would then be signalled by the blast of a trumpet.

And off they went. Starting from the left-hand side of the king, they raced past cheering crowds on the semi-circular track towards his right-hand side where a white line was drawn on the ground just a few yards from where he was sitting, the horsemen were expected to stop before crossing the line. For ordinary mortals, that would have been terrifying, but the Mai wasn’t a mere mortal; he represented strength and courage. He wasn’t expected to flinch at the terrifying sight of horses racing furiously towards him. Besides, the horsemen were professionals and it was arranged that way as the climax of the race. It was a thrilling contest enjoyed by everyone.  

Three races were held that day. The first race was for the young amateur riders, followed by the clown’s race meant to humour everyone – a contest between jesters and dwarfs on funny disfigured horses. In between the races and the main contest, a variety of performances were staged to entertain the spectators: performances by flip dancers, fire-breathing and knife eating magicians, hyena tamers and snake charmers, such exhilarating performances.

Finally came the event everyone was expecting: that of the professional riders. At the end of the fierce contest, the district of Ngala won first prize and was given a well-bred horse and a hundred gold coins. The district of Dumurwa came second, and received a purse of silver while the district of Ngazargamu came third and received half a purse of silver. The winners of the amateur and clown’s contests also walked away with impressive gifts.

In all, the event was a memorable one for everyone. By sundown, it all came to an end when the Mai rose with all his noblemen and headed for the mosque to offer the Magrib prayer. It was a day to remember.

  [End of Chapter Thirty]

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