GLR November-December 2025

ESSAY Native Identities Live On in Africa J OHN M OTAROKI

I N THE SUNLIT VILLAGES of precolonial Angola, the chibados moved with grace, their presence a bridge be tween worlds. Identified at birth as male but embodying feminine spirits, the chibados were more than anom alies—they were sacred. As healers and mediators, chibados led rituals that bound communities, their dual nature seen as a gift from the ancestors. In Nigeria’s Hausa lands, the yandaudu played a similar role, dancing at weddings and guiding spiritual rites, their fluid identities woven into the fabric of society. Today these “two-spirit” figures reveal a truth: Sexual and gender diversity is not a Western import but a cor nerstone of many African cultures. The chibados of Angola, documented by Portuguese mis sionaries in the 17th century, were integral to Ndongo society. Clad in feminine attire, they served as spiritual advisors, their ability to navigate gender boundaries earning them respect. A missionary’s account describes a chibado leading a harvest cer emony, their voice uniting the crowd in song. Similarly, yan daudu in northern Nigeria acted as intermediaries in Hausa mar kets, their wit and charm fostering trade and kinship. These roles, however, faced erasure under colonial rule. European rights, hosting cultural festivals that echo ancient rituals. In Nigeria, yandaudu like Aisha, a forty-year-old performer, blend tradition with defiance, hosting safe spaces for queer youth. “We’ve always been here,” Aisha says, “and our ancestors knew our worth.” Yet challenges persist: Colonial-era laws and rising conservatism threaten these communities, making visibility a radical act. The chibados and yan daudu offer a lens into non Western systems in which gender fluidity was once celebrated. Their stories prompt a rethinking of global queer histories not as isolated struggles but as interconnected tapestries of resist ance. As Africa navigates modernity, these two-spirit identities remind us that liberation lies in honoring the past. To understand the depth of these identities, one must delve further into their precolonial roots. In the Kingdom of Ndongo and Matamba—regions that encompass much of modern-day Angola—the chibados , also known as quimbandas , were revered as a third gender. Born male but adopting feminine roles, they were believed to carry female spirits, granting them supernatural powers and magical insight. They acted as divin John Motaroki, a freelance writer based in Nairobi, Kenya, has been published in The East African , Nation Media , and BBCAfrica . powers, imposing binary norms, branded such identities as deviant, forcing chibados and yan daudu underground. Today, African LGBT activists are re claiming these legacies. In Angola, organiza tions like Iris, an LGBT rights group, draw on chibado traditions to advocate for trans

ers, healers, and spiritual leaders, facilitating rituals that con nected the living with their ancestors. This dual essence was not a source of shame but a divine gift, allowing them to mediate disputes and perform ceremonies that reinforced community bonds. European observers arriving in the 16th and 17th cen turies noted their presence with a mix of fascination and dis dain, describing how they dressed in feminine clothing and lived openly as women, as well as their elevated role in society. “Some quimbandas are powerful wizards, who are much es teemed by most Angolans,” wrote António de Oliveira de Cadornega, soldier and historian of the Angolan wars, in 1680. Across the continent in northern Nigeria, the yandaudu em bodied a parallel tradition within Hausa-Fulani culture. Trans lating roughly to “sons of Daudu”—a reference to a flamboyant spirit in the Hausa pantheon—these effeminate men participated in the Bori spirit possession cult. Yandaudu were not typically perceived as becoming possessed but were essential to Bori cer emonies, dancing, preparing food, and donating resources dur ing rituals honoring spirits like Dan Galadima, a powerful member of the Bori pantheon. They adopted feminine manner isms, speech, and dress, often working in roles traditionally re served for women, such as selling snacks or mediating in markets. as intermediaries between them and male clients, and receiving payment from both parties. This role provided economic inde pendence and social prestige, challenging the notion that gender diversity was marginal; instead, it was woven into the cultural fabric, offering spaces for expression amid societal constraints. The term “two-spirit,” borrowed from Indigenous North American contexts, captures this blending of masculine and feminine essences. While not native to African languages, the term serves as a modern framework to describe these figures who transcended binary categories. In both Angola and Nigeria, such people were not outliers but vital contributors to spiritual and social life. Their stories align with broader patterns across Africa, where gender fluidity was common before European in tervention. Similar roles existed among other groups, like the mudoko dako of the Langi in Uganda or the gor-digen of the Wolof in Senegal, underscoring that diversity in gender and sex uality was indigenous, not imported. Colonialism shattered this equilibrium. Beginning in the late 15th century with Portuguese incursions in Angola and escalat ing through British rule in Nigeria, European powers imposed rigid gender norms rooted in Christian morality and ideals. Mis sionaries and administrators condemned nonbinary expressions In Hausa society, in which strict gender separation prevailed under Islamic norms, yan daudu navigated these boundaries, forming close bonds with karuwai (inde pendent women, often sex workers), acting

The chibados and yan daudu o ff er a lens into non Western systems that celebrated gender fl uidity.

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