Dose continued
Where were we?
Ah yes, the Tijuca enredo and parade that celebrated the Agudas, the conference in Ouidah, and whose samba ends with “Salve o Chacha, salve toda negritude…”
Glorifying the brotherhood of Brazil and Benin, of enslaved africans returning home across the atlantic, reversing the middle passage and bringing with them cultural traditions of the new world
Who/what is the Chacha, the patriarch of the Aguda community? (both Chacha and Aguda should have accents on the final a)
The Chacha is a kind of viceroy, and the title is bestowed on the head of the family – passed down in a ceremony each generation
The first Chacha was Francisco Felix de Souza
His early years are mostly a mystery
Replete with different legends given the mythical status he attained in Benin
But we know he was born in Bahia, likely in/around 1754
Most likely to a Portuguese father and indigenous mother
How precisely he came to settle in Ouidah is unknown
He apparently came in 1792, spent a few years, returned to Brazil for a couple more, before coming back to settle permanently in 1800
He may have been appointed to the post of
“governor” of the Portuguese fort in Ouidah (later came to be known as the “world’s smallest colony”)
The fort – Forte de Sao Joao Baptista de Ajuda (St John the Baptist of Ajuda/Ouidah) – had been originally planned in the late 17th century but not built until 1721
It was vital to Portuguese interests, since after the Dutch had assumed control over much of the Gulf of Guinea, they required a heavy levy on all Portuguese vessels to carry out trade in the gulf
And the Portuguese had big business in the area
Millions of captured men and women – many from the interior of present day Benin, Togo, and Nigeria – loaded up to toil in the booming sugar plantations in Brazil
Ouidah was the major port of origin for these slave ships
De Souza amassed a huge fortune, harem, and influence as the major slave trader in the Bight of Benin
The guy had a mystique like no other
He first got into it the with King of Dahomey
The king apparently owed him some money, so de Souza went to the court to collect
As you can guess, that didn’t go over well
He got thrown in prison, and received a traditional punishment of being dunked into a giant vat of indigo
Several times
In the clink, he made plans with a neighboring prince to overthrow the king
They made a blood pact
de Souza escaped from prison (not sure if the prince helped with this)
Got guns and supplies to the prince, who led a successful coup and became King Gezo (this was in 1818)
The blood pact paid off handsomely
King Gezo basically turned over all trade in Dahomey to de Souza, who at this point assumed the title of Chacha and complete baller status
by the way, the etymology of Chacha is disputed, but the most accepted version is that it comes from the Portuguese “ja ja” meaning “right away” as in the way de Souza generally wanted things done
Dom Francisco was so revered/feared that he got his own Vodun
He had a sort of deity/supernatural being associated with him
The Dagoun (referenced in Tijuca’s 2003 samba)
de Souza wore a massive gold ring that contained a thick-scaled serpent with a diamond for its eye
The legend grew that to accumulate such untold wealth, he must have the backing of some otherworldly force, and that the serpent must represent it (or be it)
Though practicing catholics, the Dagoun came to be worshiped by the de Souza family, his (many) concubines, children, slaves, and wide circle of influence
It now has 8 other deities that are subordinate to it in the vodun cosmology
(okay, i got to figure out a way to wrap this up so i can get some poker hands in)
(this will also need heavy editing to cut down and clean up before going to ddd site)
What I really want to get to:
The aguda community in Dahomey (and later Benin) wasn’t just from the Chacha and his proliferating descendants
In 1835, there was a massive slave revolt in Bahia
It came to be known as the “Revolta dos Males” for the Yoruba term for muslim (imale)
as muslim slaves from west africa organized and led the rebellion
When it was put down, many of the rebels were deported to Dahomey
There was also a movement to return among those who had achieved manumission
So in the middle of the 19th century, you had those who had escaped, bought out of, or rebelled against their servitude making a voluntary or forced journey back to the west african coast
Most of them landed back at the port where a monument now stands with a (perhaps inaccurate) name of Porte de Non-Retour
Here’s a picture of the arch as it is today
But Tijuca’s enredo didn’t just elide the bloody history of the Chacha
Its narrative of fraternity and negritude also papers over the far more problematic story of the “returnees”
Many of those formerly enslaved, who became the agudas, or brasiliens (remember, by this point, Brazil was an independent nation), became slave-owners and even traders themselves
The de Souza family continued to pass down wealth and power for generations (and are still among the most influential in the country)
But those who had picked up new trades, customs, religions, language across the Atlantic became a kind of bourgeoisie in Benin
They kept (or sometimes adopted) Portuguese surnames
So you don’t just have de Souzas all over Benin now; there are also Goncalves, Martins, Vieiras, and Medeiros; and they are well over-represented among its elite
Okay, it’s now 1 am, and I need to head over to the Patch
So, I will post the actual dose here, from the greatest band from Benin (and maybe the world), and come back (at some point) to talk about their history, the modern history of Benin, and the reckoning faced by a country where the difference between slaves, slave-owners, and slave-traders has both shaped its society while simultaneously being completely denied or ignored
This is from their 1974 album on Albarika Store, recorded at the EMI studios in Lagos
