**3. Significance in African cultural heritage**

Africa is rich in cultural heritage, and this ranges from the tangible heritage to the intangible heritage. The various elements of heritage provide communities with the opportunity to establish an active relationship between the present and the past. According to Munjeri [50], the interpretation of the tangible can only be done through the intangible. Thus, as Tosh [51] argues, oral history (intangible heritage) is "an effective instrument for re-creating the past" by virtue of being "the

<sup>1</sup> The Buddhas of Bamyan were two 6th-century monumental statues of Gautama Buddha carved into the side of a cliff in the Bamyan valley in the Hazarajat region of central Afghanistan, at an elevation of 2500 metres (8200 ft). They were built between 507 CE (smaller) and 554 CE (larger). They were dynamited and destroyed in March 2001 by the Taliban, on orders from leader Mullah Mohammed Omar, after the Taliban government declared that they were idols.

authentic testimony of human life as it was actually experienced." The custodians of heritage in most African communities were or in some cases still, are the elders, both male and female; in most cases, these elders have been specially chosen by the ancestors to be custodians of the heritage places, objects or memories (tales/ myths). These elders will jealously guard both the tangible and intangible heritage (places, objects and memories) so that they can maintain them in the status that they received them; they cannot add or subtract anything. In other words, the significance of African heritage is passed down through the generations by the elders who are considered as the custodians of the indigenous knowledge. These custodians do not separate natural heritage from cultural heritage and therefore the intangible cultural heritage is perfectly interweaved with the tangible as well as with the supernatural.

A combination of factors that include colonialism, introduction of western education and Christianity and Islam, has seen Africa witness a confusion in the assessment of significance of its heritage places. This is largely because both the colonial administration and missionaries perceived African knowledge systems as negative and primitive and therefore, these systems as expressed through cultural heritage practices and places/objects were abhorred; for instance, Christian missionaries identified African religious shrines and other religious places as the abode of the devil [41]. Consequently, when the colonial government believed that a certain heritage place/object merited protection, provision was made, based on a western based value typology, for the protection of only the physical aspects of that heritage [2]. In colonial Zimbabwe (Rhodesia), for example, the site of Great Zimbabwe was, purely based on the value of its physical attributes, preserved; the values, such as spiritual and religious, that the local community attached to the site were ignored. Further, the colonial government used the physical value to bolster its claim that Great Zimbabwe was constructed by non-indigenous people [26]. On the other hand, the independent government of Zimbabwe has used both the western based value typology as well as the indigenous value systems to argue for an advanced ancient African civilization at Great Zimbabwe. Concomitantly, the same government of Zimbabwe has used a western based value typology to nominate the site into the World Heritage List. The same system of western versus indigenous value systems is also seen in South Africa where heritage sites such as the Voortrekker Monument and the Castle in Cape Town were established to uphold the history of the Afrikaner and the white colonial rulers. The experiences of the indigenous people of South Africa, such as the Khoisan, as well as the heritage of ordinary black people, were ignored. To ameliorate the situation, the post-apartheid government has set up the Freedom Park where the memories of the "other" South Africa are commemorated. These examples indicate that to a large extent as Tunbridge and Ashworth [52] have shown, heritage is often one-sided and therefore the significance of any heritage will vary from one community to another; from one period to another and that the same heritage place or object can have multiple significances; an heritage place/object can be insignificant to one group while significant to another. That notwithstanding however, we believe that with proper handling, the various significances can be married together in order to achieve a common value for the heritage place or object. This is because within every heritage place or object there are threads, whether positive or negative, that link the communities which experience that heritage. The weaving of these threads will lead to the understanding of the connections that exist between and within those communities or group of people experiencing that heritage. Understanding how the various groups value this heritage can therefore lead one, to the safeguarding of heritage as a valuable resource for future generations and two, to the achievement of social cohesion within the society.

**11**

*Significance in African Heritage*

*DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.90821*

Africa has a number of heritage places (monuments, distinctive sites, rock art and historic landscapes) which though they have been used by various communities as a means of preserving the collective memories of the communities at various stages of their development, the way of valuing and determining the significance of this heritage, has however, been a source of contradiction and conflict. For instance, for a long time, postcolonial Kenyan governments have not been at easy in recognising the role that the Mau Mau insurgency played in the liberation of Kenya to the extent that the proscription of the Mau Mau movement put in place by the colonial government in 1952, remained in the statute books even after the attainment of independence in 1963 [53] and was only repealed in 2003. In 2006 the new government of Kenya erected in Nairobi, the statue of Dedan Kimathi, the Mau Mau general who was executed by the British in 1957. Kimathi clad in military regalia, holds a rifle on the right hand and a dagger on the other, symbolising the last weapons he held. This was a way of the new democratically elected government, in contrast to the other two previous (despotic) postcolonial governments, acknowledging the significance of the Mau Mau rebellion in the liberation of Kenya; the statue has thus been used to give significance to an event that some of the populace did not acknowledge as being of any significance to their lives [3]. The same is the story in South Africa, where after the end of apartheid in 1994, the new government instituted the Legacy Project, in which it encouraged the founding of postapartheid heritage institutions such as the Apartheid Museum, District Six Museum and Freedom Park that were given the responsibility of using heritage as an avenue for forging a new national identity for South Africa [54]. These institutions were to create new significances for heritage that will be used in articulating the values of the new dispensation as well as contributing to cultural empowerment of formerly disadvantaged communities ([3], 13; [54], 95). The significances attached to these new heritages by the post-apartheid government and the general populace was however, contested by those who benefited during the apartheid era. The new heritages were insignificant to them though they were seen by the post-apartheid government as being significant in the construction of a new South Africa.

As said before, an outsider heritage practitioner will find it difficult to understand the significance of a heritage place without talking to the local community. This is remarkably so at the site of Osun-Osogbo, a sacred grove in southern Nigeria. The grove is regarded as the home of Osun, the goddess of fertility and is dotted with sanctuaries and shrines, sculptures and art works in honour of Osun and other deities. As in other parts of Africa, the magico- supernatural has been interwoven into the Osun-Osogbo landscape, thus enhancing the significance of the site; the tangible and the intangible have been intertwined together to tell the story of the founding of the site and identity of the Yoruba people. The Osogbo Heritage Council has, without writing anything down, used the shrines and sculptures inside the Osogbo site as a way of telling both the legendary and traditional history of Osogbo [55]. The legendary history is about the goddess Osun or Oso Igbo who is attributed to be the founder of Osogbo while the traditional history is about the coming of Laroye and Timehin in the 17th century and their encounter with the goddess and establishment of a settlement on the banks of the Osun River. Thus, the shrines and sculptures at the site have been used to provide significance and identity to the Yoruba people as they tell the migration history of the people of Osogbo ([55], 49). This significance can however, only be understood by the Yoruba people; no outsider can understand the significant role that each of the sculptures at

the site have for the construction of the identity of the Yoruba people.

on how what is significant to one group or individual can be insignificant to another. The Kaya forests are remnants of a once extensive Eastern Africa lowland

The Sacred Mijikenda Kaya Forests in the Kenya coast are another good example

#### *Significance in African Heritage DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.90821*

*Heritage*

the supernatural.

authentic testimony of human life as it was actually experienced." The custodians of heritage in most African communities were or in some cases still, are the elders, both male and female; in most cases, these elders have been specially chosen by the ancestors to be custodians of the heritage places, objects or memories (tales/ myths). These elders will jealously guard both the tangible and intangible heritage (places, objects and memories) so that they can maintain them in the status that they received them; they cannot add or subtract anything. In other words, the significance of African heritage is passed down through the generations by the elders who are considered as the custodians of the indigenous knowledge. These custodians do not separate natural heritage from cultural heritage and therefore the intangible cultural heritage is perfectly interweaved with the tangible as well as with

A combination of factors that include colonialism, introduction of western education and Christianity and Islam, has seen Africa witness a confusion in the assessment of significance of its heritage places. This is largely because both the colonial administration and missionaries perceived African knowledge systems as negative and primitive and therefore, these systems as expressed through cultural heritage practices and places/objects were abhorred; for instance, Christian missionaries identified African religious shrines and other religious places as the abode of the devil [41]. Consequently, when the colonial government believed that a certain heritage place/object merited protection, provision was made, based on a western based value typology, for the protection of only the physical aspects of that heritage [2]. In colonial Zimbabwe (Rhodesia), for example, the site of Great Zimbabwe was, purely based on the value of its physical attributes, preserved; the values, such as spiritual and religious, that the local community attached to the site were ignored. Further, the colonial government used the physical value to bolster its claim that Great Zimbabwe was constructed by non-indigenous people [26]. On the other hand, the independent government of Zimbabwe has used both the western based value typology as well as the indigenous value systems to argue for an advanced ancient African civilization at Great Zimbabwe. Concomitantly, the same government of Zimbabwe has used a western based value typology to nominate the site into the World Heritage List. The same system of western versus indigenous value systems is also seen in South Africa where heritage sites such as the Voortrekker Monument and the Castle in Cape Town were established to uphold the history of the Afrikaner and the white colonial rulers. The experiences of the indigenous people of South Africa, such as the Khoisan, as well as the heritage of ordinary black people, were ignored. To ameliorate the situation, the post-apartheid

government has set up the Freedom Park where the memories of the "other" South Africa are commemorated. These examples indicate that to a large extent as Tunbridge and Ashworth [52] have shown, heritage is often one-sided and therefore the significance of any heritage will vary from one community to another; from one period to another and that the same heritage place or object can have multiple significances; an heritage place/object can be insignificant to one group while significant to another. That notwithstanding however, we believe that with proper handling, the various significances can be married together in order to achieve a common value for the heritage place or object. This is because within every heritage place or object there are threads, whether positive or negative, that link the communities which experience that heritage. The weaving of these threads will lead to the understanding of the connections that exist between and within those communities or group of people experiencing that heritage. Understanding how the various groups value this heritage can therefore lead one, to the safeguarding of heritage as a valuable resource for future generations and two, to the achievement of social

**10**

cohesion within the society.

Africa has a number of heritage places (monuments, distinctive sites, rock art and historic landscapes) which though they have been used by various communities as a means of preserving the collective memories of the communities at various stages of their development, the way of valuing and determining the significance of this heritage, has however, been a source of contradiction and conflict. For instance, for a long time, postcolonial Kenyan governments have not been at easy in recognising the role that the Mau Mau insurgency played in the liberation of Kenya to the extent that the proscription of the Mau Mau movement put in place by the colonial government in 1952, remained in the statute books even after the attainment of independence in 1963 [53] and was only repealed in 2003. In 2006 the new government of Kenya erected in Nairobi, the statue of Dedan Kimathi, the Mau Mau general who was executed by the British in 1957. Kimathi clad in military regalia, holds a rifle on the right hand and a dagger on the other, symbolising the last weapons he held. This was a way of the new democratically elected government, in contrast to the other two previous (despotic) postcolonial governments, acknowledging the significance of the Mau Mau rebellion in the liberation of Kenya; the statue has thus been used to give significance to an event that some of the populace did not acknowledge as being of any significance to their lives [3]. The same is the story in South Africa, where after the end of apartheid in 1994, the new government instituted the Legacy Project, in which it encouraged the founding of postapartheid heritage institutions such as the Apartheid Museum, District Six Museum and Freedom Park that were given the responsibility of using heritage as an avenue for forging a new national identity for South Africa [54]. These institutions were to create new significances for heritage that will be used in articulating the values of the new dispensation as well as contributing to cultural empowerment of formerly disadvantaged communities ([3], 13; [54], 95). The significances attached to these new heritages by the post-apartheid government and the general populace was however, contested by those who benefited during the apartheid era. The new heritages were insignificant to them though they were seen by the post-apartheid government as being significant in the construction of a new South Africa.

As said before, an outsider heritage practitioner will find it difficult to understand the significance of a heritage place without talking to the local community. This is remarkably so at the site of Osun-Osogbo, a sacred grove in southern Nigeria. The grove is regarded as the home of Osun, the goddess of fertility and is dotted with sanctuaries and shrines, sculptures and art works in honour of Osun and other deities. As in other parts of Africa, the magico- supernatural has been interwoven into the Osun-Osogbo landscape, thus enhancing the significance of the site; the tangible and the intangible have been intertwined together to tell the story of the founding of the site and identity of the Yoruba people. The Osogbo Heritage Council has, without writing anything down, used the shrines and sculptures inside the Osogbo site as a way of telling both the legendary and traditional history of Osogbo [55]. The legendary history is about the goddess Osun or Oso Igbo who is attributed to be the founder of Osogbo while the traditional history is about the coming of Laroye and Timehin in the 17th century and their encounter with the goddess and establishment of a settlement on the banks of the Osun River. Thus, the shrines and sculptures at the site have been used to provide significance and identity to the Yoruba people as they tell the migration history of the people of Osogbo ([55], 49). This significance can however, only be understood by the Yoruba people; no outsider can understand the significant role that each of the sculptures at the site have for the construction of the identity of the Yoruba people.

The Sacred Mijikenda Kaya Forests in the Kenya coast are another good example on how what is significant to one group or individual can be insignificant to another. The Kaya forests are remnants of a once extensive Eastern Africa lowland

forest. The coming into being of these sacred forests is linked to the development of the Mijikenda ethnic group; a grouping that comprises nine communities speaking a mutually intelligible same language save for dialect diversity and, who claim descent from one ancestral area of Shungwaya [56, 57]. In their oral traditions, the Mijikenda claim that when their ancestors arrived in their present area, more than 600 years ago, to protect themselves from marauding neighbours, they set homesteads or *Kayas* in six fortified hilltops. Later the communities started to settle outside the fortified forests but the local elders, through the council of elders, continued to protect the original Kayas as sacred places and burial grounds [58, 59]. The memorial posts or *vigango* that are placed at the head of the graves of departed elders, connect the living with the dead and guarantees that the departed elders continue to protect the living from misfortunes. The governance structure is led by the Council of Elders who are responsible for enforcing the rules and regulations of the kayas as handed down to them by their forbears. This system is well understood by all community members and offenders conform to any punishment meted out to them by the Council of elders. In 2007, the Kenya government applied for the listing of the Kayas in the World Heritage List. Subsequently an evaluation team was sent by the World Heritage Centre to evaluate the site and the nomination. After visiting the site, the team made its recommendations but one that baffled the locals, was the assertion by the team that the Kayas did not seem to have a strong management system. This despite the fact that the team had been introduced to the council of elders who manage the site; despite the fact that the sites could not have been preserved to that particular moment were it not for the activities of the council of elders in enforcing the traditional rules and regulations. The point then is that this evaluation team did not recognise or understand the significance of the management system led by the council of elders. To the evaluation team therefore, the kayas were insignificant because they did not have a clear management system as understood in the western world. The council of elders were not a management system and therefore the kayas did not meet the criteria of significance. To the local community however, the kayas were the most significant heritage place and the council of elders was the most significant aspect for the maintenance of not only the kayas, but the physical and wellbeing of the entire community. This case illustrates how heritage practitioners schooled in the western paradigm, are unable to appreciate the "sacramental nature of the landscape" [60], as held by the local community. As Byrne [61] argues, "to reconcile heritage practice and "the supernatural", we need to better understand the context our practice has in modernity." That is when the significance of the "other" will be our significance.

The (in)significance of heritage places is well documented when it comes to open spaces. Places that have no built physical structure but which people have imbued significance because of the activities that are carried or used to be carried out there. One such example is the Freedom Corner, inside Uhuru Park in Nairobi, Kenya. In 1991, women democracy activists used this place to demand the release of opposition politicians who had been detained by the regime of then President Moi. Subsequently, whenever the opposition wanted something from the government, they would congregate at the site. This part of the park has since then become a significant focal point for critics of every Kenyan government; it is therefore a significant element for the democratisation of the Kenyan nation. In late 2015 however, the British government, as part of its response to a petition in the British courts by the Mau Mau war veterans asking for compensation for atrocities committed against them by the Kenya colonial government, built in a section of Freedom Corner, a Mau Mau remembrance monument [62]. One can argue that the choosing of the Freedom Corner as the home for the Mau Mau monument was an acknowledgement of the significance of the Freedom Corner in the democratisation of the

**13**

nance outlawing slavery.

*Significance in African Heritage*

space of a popular park!!

*DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.90821*

Kenyan nation and therefore, the Mau Mau rebellion being a precursor of the later struggles, had no other better place to be commemorated other than the Freedom Corner. On the other hand, one can argue that since the Freedom Corner is on the far part of Uhuru Park, where people do not frequently visit, the aim of the British in constructing the Mau Mau monument there was to show the insignificance of the Mau Mau rebellion to the British and what better place to do so than an obscure

Indeed, the fact that different individuals, groups of people and communities value a heritage place, site or object differently and according to the exigencies of the time, was seen during the debates for the removal of the statue of Cecil Rhodes from outside both the University of Cape Town in South Africa and Oriel College in Oxford. In South Africa, one of the protesters said that the call for the removal of the statue is a "metaphorical call for the transformation of the University of Cape Town's culture and faculty, which many blacks feel are alienating and still reflect a Eurocentric heritage" [63]. In the same vein, one Oxford student who did not want the statue removed said, "The Rhodes statue stands as a reminder that we have a long way to go in accepting our history……. the statue should stay and remind us that Oxford has much to do to redress its racial imbalances" [64]. These exchanges show that heritage is a dynamic and contested element whose significance or insignificance is constructed separately by different groups of people and this makes it difficult for one group to claim to have

powers of determining significance of a heritage site or object.

who had been liberated under the 1907 abolition ordinance.<sup>2</sup>

ent day Kilifi County (Marshall, 2011).

Just as the authorities, through what Smith [49] calls Authorised Heritage Discourse are able to use heritage to foster their hegemony, the subalterns do also usurp the same heritage to give voice to their story; their construction of significance of a heritage will be different from that of the authorities or superior communities. The example that comes to mind is that of the 19th century runaway slaves (*watoro*) of the Kenya coast. When these slaves ran away from their masters, they were either integrated into the indigenous communities, joined the Christian mission stations or formed their own independent settlements in the coastal hinterland where it was easier for the runaways to avoid recapture by their masters. Some of such independent settlements include the sites of Koromio and Makoroboi in pres-

The slaves in coastal Kenya came from all over Eastern Africa, but in particular

The watoro, having

from southern Tanzania, Mozambique, some parts of Kenya and the majority coming from Nyasaland (present day Malawi). Determined that their geographical and cultural identities are not lost, the watoro re-introduced several of the dances from their original homeland that had become insignificant during their enslavement. Such dances included *kimungwe, kinyasa, kindimba, kunju,* and *kinyago* [65]. Though these dances enabled the former slaves to remember their origins, these former slaves and their offspring however, influenced these dances to their benefit in such a way that the freeborn indigenous Mijikenda, and who owned the land on which the watoro lived, became for a little time inferior to these ex-slaves. Though kinyago is an entertainment dance, the watoro made it a contested arena to enable them become different from the Mijikenda, as well as the former plantation slaves who had been liberated under the 1907 abolition ordinance. First, though kinyago is a dance that can be used to entertain people, the watoro however, turned it into a contested field in order to enable them be differentiated not only from the Mijikenda neighbours, but from the other ex-slaves, the former plantation slaves

<sup>2</sup> In 1907, The East Africa Protectorate (Between 1895 and 1920, Kenya was formally known as British East Africa Protectorate; between 1920 and 1963, as Kenya Colony and Protectorate) passed an ordi-

#### *Significance in African Heritage DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.90821*

*Heritage*

forest. The coming into being of these sacred forests is linked to the development of the Mijikenda ethnic group; a grouping that comprises nine communities speaking a mutually intelligible same language save for dialect diversity and, who claim descent from one ancestral area of Shungwaya [56, 57]. In their oral traditions, the Mijikenda claim that when their ancestors arrived in their present area, more than 600 years ago, to protect themselves from marauding neighbours, they set homesteads or *Kayas* in six fortified hilltops. Later the communities started to settle outside the fortified forests but the local elders, through the council of elders, continued to protect the original Kayas as sacred places and burial grounds [58, 59]. The memorial posts or *vigango* that are placed at the head of the graves of departed elders, connect the living with the dead and guarantees that the departed elders continue to protect the living from misfortunes. The governance structure is led by the Council of Elders who are responsible for enforcing the rules and regulations of the kayas as handed down to them by their forbears. This system is well understood by all community members and offenders conform to any punishment meted out to them by the Council of elders. In 2007, the Kenya government applied for the listing of the Kayas in the World Heritage List. Subsequently an evaluation team was sent by the World Heritage Centre to evaluate the site and the nomination. After visiting the site, the team made its recommendations but one that baffled the locals, was the assertion by the team that the Kayas did not seem to have a strong management system. This despite the fact that the team had been introduced to the council of elders who manage the site; despite the fact that the sites could not have been preserved to that particular moment were it not for the activities of the council of elders in enforcing the traditional rules and regulations. The point then is that this evaluation team did not recognise or understand the significance of the management system led by the council of elders. To the evaluation team therefore, the kayas were insignificant because they did not have a clear management system as understood in the western world. The council of elders were not a management system and therefore the kayas did not meet the criteria of significance. To the local community however, the kayas were the most significant heritage place and the council of elders was the most significant aspect for the maintenance of not only the kayas, but the physical and wellbeing of the entire community. This case illustrates how heritage practitioners schooled in the western paradigm, are unable to appreciate the "sacramental nature of the landscape" [60], as held by the local community. As Byrne [61] argues, "to reconcile heritage practice and "the supernatural", we need to better understand the context our practice has in modernity." That is when

the significance of the "other" will be our significance.

The (in)significance of heritage places is well documented when it comes to open spaces. Places that have no built physical structure but which people have imbued significance because of the activities that are carried or used to be carried out there. One such example is the Freedom Corner, inside Uhuru Park in Nairobi, Kenya. In 1991, women democracy activists used this place to demand the release of opposition politicians who had been detained by the regime of then President Moi. Subsequently, whenever the opposition wanted something from the government, they would congregate at the site. This part of the park has since then become a significant focal point for critics of every Kenyan government; it is therefore a significant element for the democratisation of the Kenyan nation. In late 2015 however, the British government, as part of its response to a petition in the British courts by the Mau Mau war veterans asking for compensation for atrocities committed against them by the Kenya colonial government, built in a section of Freedom Corner, a Mau Mau remembrance monument [62]. One can argue that the choosing of the Freedom Corner as the home for the Mau Mau monument was an acknowledgement of the significance of the Freedom Corner in the democratisation of the

**12**

Kenyan nation and therefore, the Mau Mau rebellion being a precursor of the later struggles, had no other better place to be commemorated other than the Freedom Corner. On the other hand, one can argue that since the Freedom Corner is on the far part of Uhuru Park, where people do not frequently visit, the aim of the British in constructing the Mau Mau monument there was to show the insignificance of the Mau Mau rebellion to the British and what better place to do so than an obscure space of a popular park!!

Indeed, the fact that different individuals, groups of people and communities value a heritage place, site or object differently and according to the exigencies of the time, was seen during the debates for the removal of the statue of Cecil Rhodes from outside both the University of Cape Town in South Africa and Oriel College in Oxford. In South Africa, one of the protesters said that the call for the removal of the statue is a "metaphorical call for the transformation of the University of Cape Town's culture and faculty, which many blacks feel are alienating and still reflect a Eurocentric heritage" [63]. In the same vein, one Oxford student who did not want the statue removed said, "The Rhodes statue stands as a reminder that we have a long way to go in accepting our history……. the statue should stay and remind us that Oxford has much to do to redress its racial imbalances" [64]. These exchanges show that heritage is a dynamic and contested element whose significance or insignificance is constructed separately by different groups of people and this makes it difficult for one group to claim to have powers of determining significance of a heritage site or object.

Just as the authorities, through what Smith [49] calls Authorised Heritage Discourse are able to use heritage to foster their hegemony, the subalterns do also usurp the same heritage to give voice to their story; their construction of significance of a heritage will be different from that of the authorities or superior communities. The example that comes to mind is that of the 19th century runaway slaves (*watoro*) of the Kenya coast. When these slaves ran away from their masters, they were either integrated into the indigenous communities, joined the Christian mission stations or formed their own independent settlements in the coastal hinterland where it was easier for the runaways to avoid recapture by their masters. Some of such independent settlements include the sites of Koromio and Makoroboi in present day Kilifi County (Marshall, 2011).

The slaves in coastal Kenya came from all over Eastern Africa, but in particular from southern Tanzania, Mozambique, some parts of Kenya and the majority coming from Nyasaland (present day Malawi). Determined that their geographical and cultural identities are not lost, the watoro re-introduced several of the dances from their original homeland that had become insignificant during their enslavement. Such dances included *kimungwe, kinyasa, kindimba, kunju,* and *kinyago* [65]. Though these dances enabled the former slaves to remember their origins, these former slaves and their offspring however, influenced these dances to their benefit in such a way that the freeborn indigenous Mijikenda, and who owned the land on which the watoro lived, became for a little time inferior to these ex-slaves. Though kinyago is an entertainment dance, the watoro made it a contested arena to enable them become different from the Mijikenda, as well as the former plantation slaves who had been liberated under the 1907 abolition ordinance. First, though kinyago is a dance that can be used to entertain people, the watoro however, turned it into a contested field in order to enable them be differentiated not only from the Mijikenda neighbours, but from the other ex-slaves, the former plantation slaves who had been liberated under the 1907 abolition ordinance.<sup>2</sup> The watoro, having

<sup>2</sup> In 1907, The East Africa Protectorate (Between 1895 and 1920, Kenya was formally known as British East Africa Protectorate; between 1920 and 1963, as Kenya Colony and Protectorate) passed an ordinance outlawing slavery.

run away from their masters, considered themselves superior to the other ex-slaves who refused to run away from their masters but instead had waited for European driven emancipation.

To reinforce their authority over the liberated plantation slaves and the Mijikenda, the watoro turned the kinyago into an oracle that was controlled by a powerful cult known as mzinda and which was governed by strict regulations. Any person who transgressed the oracle was heavily penalised. Such punishment amongst others, was said to include the miraculous death of the offender. The watoro therefore, considered themselves as the authentic custodian of the Nyasa heritage and did several other things to ensure the preservation and sustainability of that heritage. To maintain the secrecy of the kinyago tradition, the performers used coded language and composed kinyago songs in the Nyasa language. Masquerades were also made at secret sites in nearby forests while the kinyago was performed at uwanja, an arena that was guarded by a protective charm (fingo) that guarded against the evil spirits. These steps enabled the watoro to safeguard the understanding of the meanings of the kinyago by the Mijikenda unless the watoro taught them. The outcome was the presentation of the kinyago as a mysterious and honored ceremony that only a fortunate few, in this case the watoro kinyago elders, had the key to its appreciation Therefore, the significance of the kinyago ritual is sealed within the watoro community while to other people, it is an inconsequential ritual. In a cunning way, however, the watoro (subalterns) used the significance of the kinyago to build ties with the Mijikenda community and therefore gain status within the larger community [66, 67].

That significance or insignificance is a construct and depends on the sociopolitical environment and demands of the time is also demonstrated by the village of Shimoni on the Kenyan south coast where though the usage of a cave as a slave pen is contested by the various village communities, these communities are however, marketing the cave to tourists as a slave cave. The presentation of the cave by the Shimoni communities as a significant element of Kenya's slave heritage is done despite the fact that Kenya's national government has not recognised any slave heritage in the country. Thus, the local community, the subalterns, have recognised the significance in the development of slave narrative in Kenya while the government has not done so. The inhabitants (subalterns) of Shimoni have used their own value typologies that are directly opposite to that of the national paradigm (Authorised Heritage Discourse) to construct the Shimoni cave as a significant element of slave heritage in Kenya; this is directly challenging the hegemonic / dominant national paradigm which considers the cave and indeed slavery as an insignificant element in the national narrative [3].

## **4. Conclusion**

This paper has briefly looked at the way significance/insignificance has been constructed. Using various examples from different parts of Africa, it has been shown that significance is a construct that depends on the dictates of the time that includes the socio-political environment within which a community operates. The paper argues that consequently the use of the significance criteria in selecting sites for listing in the World Heritage List may be misplaced because the question that needs asking is whose criteria is it that is used in determining the significance of the site- is that of the professionals/UNESCO or is that of the local community? As Dickerson [24] asks, "how localised can this 'us' be and yet still allow us to make sense of notions like expertise, knowledge, professionalism, and public institutions? because "to claim any 'us' is to speak for, on behalf of, a community – it is thus an exercise of power. What sorts of ethico-political responsibilities towards

**15**

*Significance in African Heritage*

regarding the heritage place.

**Disclosure statement**

**Notes on contributor**

**Funding**

projects.

**Author details**

Herman Ogoti Kiriama1

1 Heritage Studies, Kisii University, Kisii, Kenya

provided the original work is properly cited.

2 Heritage, Research Consultants, Mombasa, Kenya

\*Address all correspondence to: kiriamah@yahoo.com

*DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.90821*

No funding was provided for this research.

I have potential conflict of interest

communities does the making of significance judgments involve? As the examples we have provided above have shown, heritage is a hegemonic struggle between contending forces in society over who has the right to decide the destiny of the community – whether it is Obi the school teacher, who wants to get rid of "paganism" within the community – by fencing off the local path or, the local priest who wants to preserve the path that they use to bury their dead and commune with the ancestors and thus ensure the sustainability of the community [66]. Both Obi and the elder are claiming an "us" on whose behalf they are making significant judgments

**Herman Kiriama** trained in Archaeology and Heritage Management at the University of Cambridge, UK and Deakin University, Australia. He has held a number of academic and professional posts. Currently he is Associate Professor of Heritage Studies at Kisii University, Kenya. Kiriama has written extensively on archaeology and heritage issues. He is the co-editor of the *Journal of African* 

**Edith Onkoba** is an independent Researcher with a Master's degree in Project Planning and Management with a bias on heritage and sustainable development

\* and Edith Nyangara Onkoba<sup>2</sup>

© 2020 The Author(s). Licensee IntechOpen. This chapter is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/ by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium,

*Cultural Heritage Studies* published by the White Rose Press, UK.

*Significance in African Heritage DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.5772/intechopen.90821*

communities does the making of significance judgments involve? As the examples we have provided above have shown, heritage is a hegemonic struggle between contending forces in society over who has the right to decide the destiny of the community – whether it is Obi the school teacher, who wants to get rid of "paganism" within the community – by fencing off the local path or, the local priest who wants to preserve the path that they use to bury their dead and commune with the ancestors and thus ensure the sustainability of the community [66]. Both Obi and the elder are claiming an "us" on whose behalf they are making significant judgments regarding the heritage place.
