Much has changed since I first undertook research in South Africa six years ago. It is only having recently begun a a new research project that I have realized just how different things are now. Even more has changed since the ending of minority rule, as there has been a restructuring of both the State Archives Service and of the libraries of national deposit, as discussed later in this paper. The paper emerges from my reflections at this time and discusses both my experience of using archives in South Africa in the past and some of the resources which I have been able to make use of in planning my next research trip. My original research was on Afrikaner nationalist politics and identities in the 1930s and 1940s, and I now plan to work on Afrikaner moderates and English-speakers in the United Party during the same period, examining issues of identity and ideology, imperialism and nationalism. My work has taken me to several different archives in South Africa, which fall into two distinct types. The first of these are government archives, and the second are university archives. This paper will draw on my experiences of the archives I visited in 1997 and 1998, and on a brief trip I made to South Africa in 2002.

Government archives in South Africa are held by the National Archives of South Africa (NASA), established in 1996 by the National Archives of South Africa Act (No. 43 of 1996). The National Archives replaced the old State Archives Service, and was structured to take into account changes in the provincial structure and to “reflect the post apartheid political order.”

There has been an effective movement afoot in the Republic of Guinea to improve the climate of study and research for local and foreign scholars alike. The most obvious physical evidence of this is the dramatically improved archival facility in Conakry. In April 1991 Les Archives Nationales du Guinée began moving into an entirely new, specially constructed building next to the Ministère de la Jeunesse, des Arts, de la Culture et des Sports. By the summer of 1992, the lengthy process of settling into the building's 1600 square meters appeared to be complete.

This is a modern, well-equipped facility, organized and administered by trained Guinean archivists who are appropriately concerned with preservation of resources. A tour of some of the main archival storage areas revealed a large collection of bound, well-preserved documents. According to the Associate Director, Seydouba Cissé, there are five such climate-controlled rooms, containing a total of 5,000 meters of metal shelving. According to the personnel list there are two conservators on the staff. At their disposal is a studio for restoration and a room for cleaning books and documents. There is also a microfilm room (I did not have time to examine this collection), and a microfilm reading machine. In the summer of 1992 photocopying was readily available at a reasonable price per page. The card catalog in the air-conditioned reading room was in fairly good order, though some student mémoires (see below) were filed under categories inconsistent with their titles.

As of July, 1973, the National Archives of Cameroon were located in two offices: a main branch at the capital, Yaoundé, and a second collection at Buea, the former British West Cameroon capital. Both centers are open to researchers during normal government office hours. Access to the Yaoundé collection requires no special formalities for any bona fide academic researcher (manuscript documents are closed to individuals working on their own private economic or legal affairs). To work in Buea it is necessary to have the written permission of the Yaoundé Director of Archives. Documents are considered ‘open’ if they are more than thirty years old. Conditions of work in both centers are reasonably comfortable and pleasant. Relatively few scholars are usually to be found in the reading rooms, and documents are produced fairly rapidly and in generous quantities.

These are all to be found in Buea: they cover the period beginning with the earliest British administration in 1914. Files for the Buea Residency (covering both the Bamenda and the southern regions of former West Cameroon) are well catalogued. Efforts were also being made to catalogue files from subordinate administrative centers. Some material relevant to the British administration of Cameroon is also to be found in various Nigerian archives.

The Ethiopian Manuscript Microfilm Library (EMML) is a joint project of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, the Hill Monastic Manuscript Library (HMML) (formerly Monastic Manuscript Microfilm Library) of St. John's Abbey and University, Collegeville, Minnesota, U.S.A. Professor Walter Harrelson, former Dean of the Divinity School at Vanderbilt University, is Chairman; Dr. Julian G. Plante, Director of HMML and Research Professor of Classics in St. John's University, is Vice-Chairman; and Dr. Sergew Hable Selassie, Professor of History in Addis Ababa University, is Project Director. Grateful acknowledgement for the funding of this project must be made to the National Endowment for the Humanities, Washington, D.C.

EMML was established at the urging of His Holiness Abuna Tewoflos, Patriarch of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, who was much concerned about the dangers of irreparable damage and loss to the manuscript treasures of his Church. The purpose of the project is twofold: To preserve on microfilm the precious treasures of manuscripts and to make those source materials available for study by scholars both within and outside Ethiopia. Efforts are also being directed toward obtaining copies of Ethiopian manuscripts outside of Ethiopia.

Actual photographic operations are being carried out by an Ethiopian team in conjunction with Xerox University Microfilms, Ann Arbor, Michigan, U.S.A., where the film is processed. Positive and negative copies are sent to the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which has founded a center for the purpose at Addis Ababa, and positive copy is sent to HMML in Collegeville, where interested students and scholars may come for consultation and study. HMML is a research center with a focus on medieval and renaissance manuscripts on microfilm.

In an oral discourse passed down through many generations, the village elder Vase Kamara describes how a slave named Zo Musa Kòma founded the ancient town of Musadu in Guinea-Conakry, and he explains how the legendary Kamara ancestor Foningama later became a leader in Musadu. We tentatively date some elements of the Zo Musa stories to about the fourteenth and fifteenth century, when the Manding began to assimilate and push the Southwestern and Eastern Mande-speaking peoples from the Musadu area in the Konyan to the forest. Some of the Foningama related accounts seem to correspond to the era when the Kamara who settled in the Konyan became active in the sixteenth-century Mane “invasions.”

Stories about Musadu's founding provide information about these movements and help bridge the histories of the savanna and forest peoples who live in Guinea, Côte d'Ivoire, and Liberia. The Musadu legend links the Konyaka to their kinsmen who live in the traditional heartland of the Mali empire in present-day northern Guinea and southern Mali. In addition, some Manding, Vai, Loma, Gola, Kpelle, Konor, Dan, and Mano trace their origins to Musadu, and reflect one Loma writer's claim that “all of the tribes in Liberia are from Musadu, or have some association with Musadu” (Korvali 1960:7).

The main actors are Manding (Mandekan) speakers who migrated to the Mau/Gbè and Konyan regions of western Côte d'Ivoire and southern Guinea respectively. The Mauka/Gbèka and Konyaka are members of the Northern Mande language group and are classified as Maninka (Malinke). The Bamana (Bambara), Dyula (Jula), and Vai are other Northern Mande speakers. Vase claims that Foningama was Manding, and that Zo Musa was Kpelle. The Kpelle, Loma, and Konor are Southwestern Mande speakers, and the Dan (Gio) and Mano are Eastern Mande speakers.

A dominant trend in Nigerian historiography since the 1970s has been the preoccupation with writing history “from the national perspective.” This appears to be Nigerian historians' attempts to be “relevant” to current efforts at nation-building. “National history,” the object of such endeavors, has been defined by the frontline historian J. F. Ade Ajayi as “a study of the main developments in the whole Nigerian region, and among all the peoples and cultures, as perceived from the perspective of national significance and relevance, and only illustrated from the histories of individual groups and polities.”

While such efforts at writing what amounts to macrohistory are commendable, emphasis on themes of “national significance and relevance” could result in overgeneralization or the deletion of vital details. This likelihood then justifies the writing of microhistory to give macrohistory a sound factual or empirical basis. The need for microhistory has been stressed by a distinguished historian:

In the beginning of 1999 Professor David Beach died in Harare, only about three months after an unexpected illness which proved to be brain cancer had cut short his academic activities. His early death after more than thirty years of intensive research on the precolonial history of Zimbabwe and Mozambique motivated some of his friends and colleagues to plan a panel on his work in the 2000 CAAS conference in Edmonton, Canada. This paper was originally written for this Conference which I did not manage to attend. Not only his figure as historian and friend but also the context he was working in interested me, including the problem of local production of knowledge in Africa in the colonial and postcolonial environment. In this paper I shall present some biographical data on David Beach, outline the sequence of his research and writing, cover his concept and contribution to history, the reception of his work in Mozambique, ending with some comments regarding the problems of local production of scientific knowledge in African countries. The coverage is in places somewhat sketchy and some subjects like the reception of his studies in Zimbabwe have only been referenced briefly, and that in North America omitted.

The sections of the paper which deal with the sequence of his research, method, etc. and focus on sociological aspects of his production are based mainly on indications in Beach's own published work. Additional information came from his correspondence, hints he gave in casual conversation during my four visits to Harare in 1971 and 1982-1995, and during his six visits to Maputo in 1987, 1989, 1990, 1992, 1994 and 1997, as well as some observations.

The Songhay Empire was a remarkable west African state, flourishing in several areas including territorial and trade expansion, development of a strong military and centralized government, unprecedented support for learning and scholarship, and skilful relations with the greater Sudanic and Islamic lands. Songhay arose out of the remains of the Mali empire under the rule of Sonni Ali ca. 1464. Yet it was the empire's second ruler, Askiya Muhammad, who initiated the century-long golden age of peace and stability, bringing Songhay to its zenith. This era was particularly fruitful for the cities of Gao, Timbuktu, and Jenne, the empire's administrative, scholarly, and trade centers respectively. Timbuktu soared to preeminence in the Sudan and became known in other parts of the Muslim world, producing many respected scholars. However, by the later part of the sixteenth century fractious disarray among the descendants of Askiya Muhammad weakened the state, ultimately leading to the Moroccan invasion of 1591. Songhay's capitulation to the invaders ended the age of the great medieval west African states.

One of the foremost achievements of missionary enterprise in the African region was the training of individuals, particularly clergymen, who came to play pioneering roles in the documentation of the history of their peoples. One of the reasons usually advanced by such chroniclers for taking part in this tedious attempts at historical reconstruction, is basically, to safeguard the history of their people and most especially, the need to prevent their history from being distorted, forgotten or sent into some oblivion. Examples of clergymen or missionary influenced personalities who have performed such tasks in Nigeria include Reverend Samuel Johnson, on the history of the Yoruba, J.D. Egharevba on the history of Benin, and Reverend Samuel Ojo, on the history of Ilorin and Shaki.

These chronicles have their limitations. The writers often serve as public image launderers for the people they write about. As a result, a lot of bias and subjectivism is embellished in what they attempt to project. Historical facts are distorted in this process. The lack of the chroniclers' basic methods of historical research is also evident in their narrative method of historical writing. This approach does not provide any opportunity for proper historical analysis. In spite of the limitations of these chronicles, they have served as very useful sources of primary information for contemporary historians. More importantly, their writings have been able to create a sense of identity and cultural awareness among their intended audience. In other words they have sometimes proved more relevant and acceptable to the intended audience even more than the works of contemporary historians.2 It is with this hindsight that we examine Iwe Itan Ofa by The Very Reverend J.B. Olafimihan.

Since all of today's trained African historians took up their burden in the 1960s or later decades, it is gratifying to be an untrained African historian who began in the 1950s, inasmuch as my early career can now be immodestly presented to younger researchers as historical documentation. This thought has arisen when reading in HA 18 a contribution by Simon Heap on the Nigerian National Archives at Ibadan. The archive's inspired founder, Kenneth Onwuka Dike, being long dead, a note on the history of the archives, or rather on its prehistory, can be offered from probably the Only Survivor.

On the morning of 25 November 1895 Maasai fighting men slaughtered hundreds of Kikuyu and Swahili caravan porters and askari in the Kedong Valley of Kenya (then in the Uganda Protectorate); the carnage caused one European to describe the area as the “Valley of Death.” The next day Andrew Dick, a British trader formerly with the Imperial British East Africa Company, learned of the massacre and resolved to avenge it. In a fierce counter-attack, Dick killed at least one hundred Maasai before being put to death himself.

While they were dramatic events, the Kedong Massacre and the Dick Affair are of far less significance from the perspective of the 1980s than during the colonial period. They were without question also much less important than was often assumed in bringing about amicable relations between the Maasai and the British. However, the concern of this paper will be with the varying accounts of these incidents that are available to the historian today, and the problems of the sources of the early colonial history of East Africa that are put in somewhat depressing perspective by the fact that, as Charles Miller has remarked, “nearly every individual writing about the 1890s has his own version of the incidents.” Many of these versions, often accepted as independent sources, have been adopted from the accounts of others. Through comparison of accounts one can use internal evidence to suggest an individual author's unacknowledged sources and in some cases trace the “genealogy” of the account. At the risk of further complicating the picture, we will attempt to analyze the historiography of the incidents and suggest that scholars and popular writers have largely overlooked or ignored one important account of the massacre and its aftermath.

The Divisions of Sefwi Wiawso, Sefwi Bekwai, and Sefwi Anwhiaso in the Western Frontier District of the Gold Caost were brought within the operations of the Native Jurisdiction Ordinance (1883) under the ‘Headchief of Sefwi Wiawso in 1909.’ They were administered from the Ankobra District until 1911 when an increase in the number of Assistant District Commissioners permitted the appointment of a Commissioner to the Western Frontier District. The headquarters of the Western Frontier District were at Amoya, a very small town near the Bia River and the Ivory Coast border. Three years later, however, in 1914, the Sefwi District was created and new headquarters established in the old capital of Sefwi Wiawso, the town of Wiawso perched on the top of a steep hill and not far from the important ferry crossing of the Tano River. The Sefwi Wiawso Native Tribunal was first established at this date. A few years later Native Tribunals were also established at Sefwi Bekwai and Sefwi Anwhiaso. The present court rooms in Wiawso were built in 1927/28 and the court records for Sefwi Wiawso to which I had access date from this time.

The court records had been deposited (in 1970) on the floor and shelves of a storeroom at the back of what is now the District Magistrate's Court in Wiawso. Some of the earlier volumes seemed to be missing and many were in bad repair. I did my best to rebind these before returning them to the store.

This is a report on provisional efforts to reorganize a regional archive in Dosso, Niger. The information is provided in hopes that it will be of some use to students of West African history, and will arouse the interest of archivists.

While conducting research in the Dosso region of Niger during 1981 and 1982, I had occasion to work with historical materials in the Prefectural archives of the Department of Dosso. At the time of my arrival in Dosso, the archival documents were stored in more than twenty metal and wooden cabinets and files, and on open shelves. These were located inside a very large room without electric lights, illuminated dimly during the daylight hours by a single small window, permanently open and paneless, high on as eastward facing wall. The disorder of the cabinets inside the room was such at the beginning that it was impossible to penetrate more than a few feet. In some cabinets the contents were more or less uniform, but in most there was considerable disarray, said to date from the late 1970s when a national youth festival was held in Dosso. As a result, it was not uncommon to find mimeographed reports from the 1970s alongside registers of handwritten.entries dating from the early 1900s, and typescripts from the 1930s and 1940s. In others, voracious termites left for years to eat as they liked, had caused considerable destruction, consuming the documents, and in the case of wooden construction, the cabinets and shelves that contained them.

This article focuses on the uses of the archive in contemporary Zimbabwe by individuals and families making claims to chieftaincy. A reading of the colonial archive on chieftainship histories reveals that there is an information gap especially for some years. For instance, from the 1960s to the present, there are relatively few documents specifically relating to the subject of chiefs and headmen in Zimbabwe. As a result, researchers working on chieftainships, hired historians, and claimants to chieftaincy face a frustrating challenge of limited sources. This article analyzes the sources that hired historians use to write chieftaincy claims reports in Zimbabwe for their clients. It also explores the use of oral evidence to complement or counter the narratives offered through colonial documents, and it also recommends the use of alternative sources on chieftaincy, both within and beyond the repositories of the National Archives of Zimbabwe (NAZ).

Any mention in a text to something demonstrably more recent than its attributed date of composition is an anachronism. The presence of an anachronism is absolute proof that the purported date given for the redaction of the final the text is wrong and that the real date occurred later than the date implied by the anachronism. In rare cases an anachronism can also occur in reverse, namely, when it can be shown that the anachronism implies the presence of something (an archaism, a practice) which had been replaced or had disappeared by the purported date for the manuscript. Anachronisms can be very useful both to date a document and in some cases to show us something about the dynamics involved in the creation of a text. The detection of anachronisms is common with regard to written documents, but they can also be used for the study of oral documents which have been memorized word by word, especially when only one version of such documents has survived. That is the case for the Rwandan esoteric code of kingship, which yields an excellent example of how a systematic search for anachronisms throws light on such a document and allows a historian to use its contents with much greater confidence than was the case otherwise.

Ubwiiru is the name given in Rwanda to a set of eighteen pieces in prose, called “roads” or “ways,” which vary in length between 74 and 1252 lines and were learned by heart since “immemorial times” by specialists called abiiru.

A great deal has been written about the colonial conquest of Africa, from the perspectives of both the conquerors and the conquered. Primary resistance has come and gone as an ‘in’ topic in African Studies. Yet to the extent that such literature deals with the colonial conquest, it has been within a structural-functional framework, focusing on social, political, and economic factors. Possible cultural and psychological aspects have been relegated to the occasional vague comment. More often, these latter elements have tended to be assumed, rather than demonstrated, and then generally in the hindsight of nationalist manipulation of oral traditions in the process of decolonization. Only through the elucidation of meaning to participants of events can we transform them from the status of ‘objects of study’ to ‘subjects in action.’

This paper examines the impact of colonial conquest of the Eggon of central Nigeria in terms of a reconstruction of indigenous institutions of warfare, in particular, Eggon concepts of ritual warfare and its functions. What met in the Mada Hills were not merely two disproportionately armed fighting forces, but two different military ideologies (for want of a more apt phrase), representing two quite different perceived, experienced, and constructed realities. The impact of that confrontation was such that it has been transformed into a prototype myth encompassing the colonial experience of all Eggon, not just those directly involved in the Wulko hills campaign.

This paper sets forth the methodology employed to establish and refine a dating system based on genealogies collected during field research in two areas of Africa, Agago county in Eastern Acholi and Awe district in the Benue Valley. Interview sessions with the elders normally lasted from two to four hours and many topics might be, and usually were, discussed in the course of a single interview. To demonstrate the progression of questioning relative to multiple themes would be beyond the space available or the stamina of readers. It is proposed rather to isolate the problem of chronology and show how, throughout the fieldwork period, achieving accuracy should be a major preoccupation and of greater or lesser concern in every interview. The regnal list is not collected once or twice or thrice. It forms a problem which continuously protrudes into the interviews, more so in the early stages of fieldwork, less so in the later, but seldom totally ignored.

When historical research focused on large kingdoms such as Bunyoro or Oyo, a vague and extremely relative chronology was adequate for many research objectives. One consequence of this type of research was a precolonial history of modern African states fashioned from a series of chapters, each one concentrating on spearate tribal traditions. The impression created was of isolated groups whose interaction, except for some outstanding military conflicts, awaited the coming of Arabs and Europeans. Since these aliens brought dates, integrated regional histories were forced to await their coming.

Readers of this journal will surely be familiar with the excellent research collection of published materials on Africa held in London by the library of the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS). This remains the foremost collection of its kind in Europe, and has long been widely used by visiting scholars from all around the world. But it is less well known that the library also houses a substantial and rapidly expanding collection of primary source materials, many of which relate to the history of Africa. This brief report on the archives and manuscripts relating to Africa housed in the SOAS library offers an introduction to this collection, along with an annotated listing of current holdings. With the exception of one or two of the larger items, the majority of the archive materials on Africa have been relatively little used by scholars to date, and it is to be hoped that the publication of this report will encourage greater use of this increasingly important collection.

The library has collected manuscripts in various African and Asian languages since its inception in 1916, but it is only since 1973, when a new purpose-built library was opened, that the School has begun to take in deposits of modern archives and to build up its collections of manuscripts relating to Africa and Asia. Since then the collection has developed considerably, the principal focus being upon the records of missionaries and missionary organizations, of humanitarian groups and non-governmental organizations and those who worked with them, and business records and the papers of those involved in business.