Everywhere young King Baudouin went on his flying inspection trip through the major towns of the Congo last week, he heard the insistent cries of nationalist leaders for Congolese independence. But from the dark interior of the Kasai province came ominous notice that, once Belgian control ends, the self-rule everyone seemed to want will bring with it barbarism and strife.
In a running civil war of spears and poison arrows between the Balubas and the Luluas, more than 60 were killed. Once the Balubas had been serfs of the ruling Luluas. But now, being more numerous, they stood to emerge as the leaders of the provisional government in Luluabourg. Enraged, King Kalamba of the proud Luluas ordered the Balubas to pack up and leave the region. When they refused, the Luluas attacked, screaming, "Benyi baye kuabo" (Strangers go home).
Belgian officials were hard pressed to stop the fighting. For one thing, they were already busy with another kind of savagery among the nearby Bushongo tribesmen. Now that there was talk of independence, the Bushongos were reviving the forbidden ritual custom of tschipapa, or trial by poison. Tschipapa, the traditional Bushongo method of dealing with witches, is a deadly kind of liquid roulette in which entire villages line up to drink from cups carefully arranged to bring death to those infected with evil spirits.
It was outlawed by the Belgians 40 years ago, but the local misheke, or tribal poison mixer, remains a man of high honor and awesome power. In recent weeks, since the revival of tschipapa trials, 241 witches have been poisoned to death, reported New York Times Correspondent Homer Bigart.
Four Drinks. When a Bushongo family is beset by unusual hardship—perhaos a sick child, or bad crops—the head of the family calls in a diviner who, clutching the patient's hand, calls off the names of possible witches who might be responsible for the curse. If at the mention of a name the family head jerks his head, the diviner has a suspect. The local misheke then produces a poison from the powdered bark of the ihumi tree and, gathering all the villagers to drink, spikes the suspect's cup with his lethal potion. After four drinks, the suspected witch must walk or run through the village, to spread the poison through his body. If the victim vomits the poison and does not die. he is declared innocent of the charges; if not, his body is left on a small platform of reeds outside the village for a day, and then cremated in a gasoline-soaked shroud suspended between trees, while the rest of the village watches from a respectful distance.
Sometimes Belgian police, arriving immediately after a poison trial, have administered emetics and saved the lives of suspected witches, but this merely means the defendant must undergo another trial later. Most victims, anxious to prove their innocence, undergo tschipapa willingly, reported Correspondent Bigart, and are reluctant to help the Belgians prosecute the sorcerers.
The local ruler, 70-year-old King Lukengu, who has more than 300 wives, at first was suspected of promoting the revival of tschipapa, but when he faithfully turned in several tribal poison mixers to the white authorities, he was exonerated of blame—just in time to be received by Baudouin during his stop at Luluabourg.