The above map (still very much a rough draft!) shows some of the names (and stories) of the acibiibi I have managed to trace through my interviews over the past six weeks. Some narratives are more local, and their reach is more limited, while the fame of other acibiibi has captured the imagination of people more widely.
Acivaanjila is the most famous biibi (later recognized as rainha by the Portuguese colonial government). While the exceptionality of this woman is widely admitted, contradictory stories exist concerning the source of her power as well as her rise to fame.
In the narrative that dominates in her home area of Majune where her successor still lives, she is remembered as the wife of the first régulo Ce-Mataaka who started out as a slave but then gained fame and respect through her mbopeesi that she performed for Mataaka. Her powerful mbopeesi contributed to Mataaka’s success in the slave raiding wars in the late 19th century. Mataaka later showed his gratitude to her by giving her a population of her own to govern as chief in Majune.
In another story told by Ce-Maguuta, a councilor and oral historian of Ce-Mataaka, in Mavago, she was a slave who became Mataaka’s wife. She came to the rescue of slaves that Mataaka had banished from his village. She took care of these people, even stealing food from Mataaka to feed them. Eventually this community grew big. When Mataaka finally learned what she had done, he was impressed as she had accumulated people for him, people that he in his fury had condemned to die. This is how she became ruler of a large community of ex-slaves.
For me the most interesting difference between these stories is that according to one she performs mbopeesi whereas in the other this possibility is categorically denied (after all, she was not sister but wife of Mataaka). In the history of Ce-Mataaka, she features as wife and exceptional woman. She only became the biibi that performs mbopeesi when she started to rule as chief.
Coming from Swahili, biibi is understood as a title of respect in northern Niassa. In our interviews, people used ‘biibi’ to refer to both the first wife of the régulo as well as his sister, the one who performed mbopeesi. In some places, when we asked for the stories of the acibiibi of the old days, our interviewees first started talking about the chief’s wife. While this still requires more analysis, I think it speaks of more recent changes in the matrilineal structure of society and the strengthening of the power of the male chief.
Usually, the big chiefs of the time had many wives. The greatest of them, Ce-Mataaka, is said to have had over hundred wives. The biibi was the first wife of the chief and she designed the rota for when the chief was to sleep with which woman. Otherwise, as my interviewees stressed, ‘she didn’t do anything!’ This was the time of slavery, and the first wife had slaves who did all the work for her.
The role of the other biibi, the mother or sister of the chief, was very different.
To differentiate between the two biibi, our interviewees also used the term ‘biibi of the basket’ (biibi va ciselo) to speak of the biibi who performs mbopeesi. Ciselo is the basket that the biibi uses in the mbopeesi ceremony to carry the sacred flour.
Due to this current muddling of the two biibi, in our interviews we began to ask separately for the name and history of the ‘biibi of the basket’.
While few ‘acibiibi of the basket’ have gained more widespread fame, most names only feature as part of family histories. One of these lesser known names is Ce-Ngawani. She was the mother of the first Ce-Cipango who lived on Mount Unango together with Ce-Nampanda and Ce-Kalanje (see previous post). These days her history is largely forgotten, and the current Ce-Cipango even claims that she did not perform mbopesi together with the régulo.
Yet her burial site lends another voice to this story. The fact that Ce-Ngawani lies buried next to the first Ce-Cipango in Malulu (see pictures below), points to her once significant role in the chieftaincy.
Entry to the gravesite 
Matenda Aidi by Ce-Cipango’s grave 
Grave of Ce-Ngawani in the middle
Four bodies are buried at this site. On the right side of Ce-Cipango lies Ce-Ngawani. Another biibi, Ce-Malola is buried on his left side, and next to her on the right an induna of Ce-Cipango, Ce-Digulwe.
This is a sacred site, and the ceremony of mbopeesi continues to be performed here these days.
As it is sacred ground, every time someone visits the gravesite a small ceremony has to be performed. I was accompanied by Matenda Aidi, the counselor of the current Ce-Cipango, to go and visit the graves, which are situated about one kilometer outside the village of Malulu.
I was instructed beforehand how to comport myself at the grave. (And I was also given permission to take photos.)
Before entering the gravesite, we first removed our shoes. Then I was handed a broom to sweep the graves, clearing them of dead leaves. This—I was told in another interview—is done to make the place look like it’s inhabited. The same way that people keep their home yards clean, the graves require the same attention.
After a few minutes of sweeping, we put the brooms aside and knelt in front of the grave of Ce-Cipango. We clapped our cupped hands together three time to apologize for the disturbance and to show our respect. After this the induna spoke. Addressing the first régulo Cipango, he asked for forgiveness for the intrusion and explained the purpose of our visit, requesting that we might go in peace. As instructed I placed my small offering of money (which is later given to some the poorest elders in the community) on the grave. And then to end this small ceremony, we again clapped our hands three times, this time to say our respectful goodbye.
These days Ce-Cipango’s grave is the elaborate one, but it is clearly not a very old construction. The other three graves are totally unpretentious, only marked with large stones.
Still, being buried here at this most sacred site speaks of the past power of these acibiibi, even if their narratives have largely been discontinued in current oral tradition.
Luckily discontinuation doesn’t mean that this past is completely lost. Piecing together the fragments of these stories about the acibiibi of the old days and looking at them together with other material evidence can allow us to gain some understanding of this forgotten history.