GADA, or generation-grading, systems are found only in a few Cushitic-speaking societies of Ethiopia. Unlike a true age-grading system a gada system is distinguished by the rule that all sons follow their fathers in the sequence of grades at a single fixed interval, irrespective of their actual age. In order to maintain the constancy of this interval, the length of time which a man spends in each grade is fixed at a specific number of years, as is the number of grades separating him from his father. It is evident, therefore, that in such systems the various grades will include at the more senior levels young boys and adolescents together with mature men, a confusion that will not arise in true age-grading systems.

This article departs from general anthropological debates about the nature of gender to focus more narrowly on the impact of political economy and religion on gender relations. It explores the dialectic between commodification, Islamic conversion and gender relations in the Hausa hamlet of Marmara, in northern Nigeria. Despite changes in political economy and in religion, there has been great continuity in gender relations. The article ends with a structural comparison between the Hausa of Marmara and the Giriama of Kaloleni (in Kenya). In this comparison, it appears that political economy can be privileged over religion in the understanding of gender. Over the long term, however, a deeper continuity in local moral concepts structures people's very understanding of political economy, religion and gender.

Le droit d'aînesse domine toute la mentalité de nos indigènes, aussi bien leur vie familiale, qui est en même temps leur vie sociale et religieuse, que le concept animiste dans tout ce qui les entoure. En traitant de ce droit nous touchons un point capital autour duquel gravitent toutes leurs compréhensions de la vie.

Chez eux l'aîné a tout à dire. Il est le maître, car il est inouï chez ces animistes qu'un vieux soit obligé, malgré lui, de se soumettre à un plus jeune. De plein droit, c'est l'homme le plus ancien, le plus âgé de la famille qui sera leur chef, car tout village se compose des membres d'une famille.

The problem of the production of text-books for African schools is one which is engaging much attention from those who are interested in African education, and indeed there are few problems of African life where the efforts of serious thought are likely to be better rewarded. In an admirable document (5) the International Institute of African Languages and Cultures has discussed some of the fundamental issues involved, and the writers of text-books will probably find it wise to follow the general lines there laid down. That discussion does not, however, claim to have exhausted the subject, but is rather intended to invite fresh suggestions. The purpose of the present study is to set forth some psychological and pedagogical considerations which bear on the problem. Much scientific research has already been devoted to the problems of reading instruction (2), and the results should be at the disposal of the makers of text-books for Africa.

Of recent years many mosques have been built in Sierra Leone, while in Freetown itself the number and character of these new buildings is transforming the Eastern Ward into a visibly Islamic city. Several of the new Freetown mosques are alike in their ambitious scale, their architectural style, and in being associated with a particular sponsoring tribe. The older mosques, even the two or three which were built of permanent materials, were small in scale, had but few architectural pretensions, and were communal rather than tribal in character. The new mosques—the Temne, the Mandinka, the Fula, and the Hausa—are all very large and advertise the ecclesiastical architecture of the Near East; a particular tribe was responsible for the building of each, and the tribal vernaculars are—except in the case of the Mandinka—either being used already within them, or about to be introduced. Moreover, the process is obviously continuing. The foundation-stone has been laid of a Limba mosque; land has been acquired and collections are being taken for a Mende mosque, and both are intended to be large buildings in the new style. Finally, a small Susumosque, scarcely finished as yet, is reported to be destined for demolition in order that it may be replaced by a more handsome structure.

In June 1931, Daniel Odindo, chief of Asembo, resigned after seventeen years in office. Asembo was one of over twenty locations or chiefdoms through which the Luo were ruled by the colonial administration of Kenya; its population was no more than 20,000; it was over thirty miles from the Central Nyanza district headquarters at Kisumu; there was no mission station in the location. It possessed several bush schools, some small trading centres, a few acres of cotton, and a fishing harbour on Lake Victoria. Asembo was a backwater. But there were many parties to the dispute over the succession to Odindo. One of these was Archdeacon Owen, the local head of the Church Missionary Society (CMS) who lived at Maseno, thirty-five miles away in the Maragoli Hills which overlook Kisumu. Owen was a churchman who saw his vocation in bringing political and social as much as spiritual welfare, and was deeply conscious of the missionary's dependence upon the confidence of his African flock. His white supporters in his many political campaigns were more often to be found in England than in Kenya. One of these was Norman Leys, now retired from the Colonial medical service, the first well-informed critic of the Kenya situation and with access to the Labour Party. Leys thought that the Asembo case—then being pursued through the Colony's courts—might ‘prove to be the turning point in Kenya history and [might] become one of the famous trials of the world’. It was ‘perfectly terrific’. He believed he ‘could make a damned good book out of it’ but was thankful that Owen did not want him to take up the issue in England. ‘As well might an unknown medical practitioner in some French village have tried to get his country to undo the wrong done Dreyfus.’ But there was perhaps some hope that the Home Committee of the CMS might come to Owen's aid, for ‘the wizard-chief [Odindo's appointed successor] is obviously out to persecute the church’.