Ancient Potters Of Buganda’s Royalty

By Raphael OkelloWhen Kabaka Kimera assigned his friend, Banda, to become his potter 400 years ago, he created a special niche for Buganda’s royal pot moulders, the Abajoona. Since then, Buganda’s succeeding kings have recognised Banda’s descendants as the legitimate royal moulders of ceremonial and domestic pots. One hot afternoon I find myself in Kajjansi township, riding to Nakigalala, the land of the Abajoona. Through Kajjansi’s shanty buildings, muffled in unsightly layers of dust, the motorist wades through a dusty rugged road whose twists, turns and uphill slopes assault my balance. The afternoon is a rush hour in this part of the country, just like any other township. Bare-chested marauders and the business-oriented residents busily stagger and toil in gaits that make them one item enduring the biting heat of the sun. The motorcycle weaves a playful column of dust as we pass through shops flanked on either side of the dusty murram road.We are shrouded in clouds of dust as cars occasionally ply along the dusty road. Such are the conditions that make it feel like hell to see a car coming our way.My destination, as I came to realise, is a sparsely populated village set in a swampy valley within Kajjansi tea estates, about five kilometres from Kajjansi town. Not many residents are aware of it’s cultural significance or can accurately direct visitors to the place. But I was not out of luck. From the unbearable dust of Kajjansi to the dazzling green silhouette of the tea estate, Nakigalala welcomes me with a mother’s gentleness.The sweet twittering of wetland birds from bushes and shrubs enlivens the swampy valley. A small family stares from their mud house whose walls have a puzzling labyrinth of cracks. By God’s grace, it will still be up by the end of the day.“May I speak to Dominic Kato?” I ask a curious young man, caked with mud.Through the shrubs and bushes, we make past mounds of raw mud extracted from huge ditches. The ditches are overflowing with milk-like clay water. With great abandonment, three muscular men occupying different ditches, dig and shove purposefully.Kato comes out of the bushes. I can not precisely make out his age, but his face is wizened by years of moulding experience.“(Kabaka) Kimera offered this land to Banda, in appreciation for having moulded the Kyogero (special pot) in which he had been bathed as a baby. After he was inaugurated as Buganda’s King, Kimera requested Banda to become his official moulder,” Kato says, explaining their moulding genesis. Banda was assigned the responsibility to mould for all the kings of Buganda from Kimera’s reign. When he died, his descendants carried on the tradition. “All of Banda’s descendants in Nakigalala are royal pot moulders,” says Kato. “My dad also moulded royal pots. After he had died in 1946, I followed in his footsteps at the age of 14.” From Kalema’s era, each succeeding King of Buganda recognised this special lineage and their significant role in the kingdom.“We moulded all the pots that were used during the recent Buganda royal festivals, including the coronation of the incumbent Kabaka, Mutebi, at Buddo, his marriage to the Nnabagereka, Nagginda, and after the birth of Princess Katrina,” his says, the tone of his voice overflowing with pride. “Not anyone is allowed to mould for the royalty. One must have the kigwa,” he says. Kigwa is a shrine where spirits dwell.“It is the Kigwa that bestows upon us the cultural right and spiritual potency to mould for the royalty and perform royal rituals,” he explains.Moulding the royal pots involves keen observation of traditional procedures and stages. Each stage has its head but all answer to a superior. Kato says he supervises the excavation of clay while Banda Henry, his superior, is responsible for actual moulding. The pots are moulded outside the Kiggalala, a small traditional hut, in which finished pots are kept. “If one slept with his wife the previous night, he is not allowed to participate in the moulding,” Kato says. “We spread sheep’s skin outside the Kiggalala, where we mix herbs and three different types of clay. The herbs make the pots stronger and durable.” Each pot is moulded from the base of a broken pot. The traditional inputs applied give the pots shape, smooth curves, appeal and strength.“In about three days, we can make up to 40 pots of 10 different kinds. Each serving distinct traditional functions such as water storage, ritual bath, cooking etc,” he says. “We sun dry the pots for one month before baking for one and a half hours.” Through a narrow and bushy path, we ascend together with Kato to the Kiggalala, which he says protects the village from any evil.As if to simulate its fortitude, the Kiggalala is set on a lofty hill overlooking the village and tea estate. To reflect its importance, the village was named after it. “The entire moulding ritual is done with the help and guidance of traditional spirits which dwell in the Kigwa,” he discloses. “What kind of spirits and herbs?” I ask him.He looks squarely at me, flashes his tawny eyes in a glare as if saying my asking is a sacrilege. “Uh, uh, I am not at liberty to disclose,” he scowls. “we can only teach our children who have to carry on the custom even after we have died.” It then comes back to me that this is classified information, traditionally sealed within Banda’s descendants who feel obliged to pass on the legacy from one generation to another.Ends