East and West Africa are vastly different culturally and historically and two subgroups—those living in the Ethiopian highlands and the Mande-speaking groups of West Africa —while different in many ways, both share long histories of storytelling and reverence for icons of old. The Life and Struggles of Our Mother Walatta Petros, as written by Galawdewos in 1672, and Sundiata: An Epic of Old Mali, as told by the Kouyaté line of griots since the 13th century, each tell the story of an important figure in each of these two groups. They do so in fundamentally different ways though, especially in their depictions of authority, beginning with their own. While The Life and Struggles of Our Mother Walatta Petros was written in an indigenous written language in order to preserve and spread the story and its morals as far and as wide as possible, Sundiata: An Epic of Old Mali was not written down until 1960 in an effort to preserve the secrecy and purity of a griot’s memory. Despite the fundamental difference in intended vehicle of spread, the two epics do share much in the depiction of authority in their subjects, not their authors. In both epics, authority lies in destiny and the women that further that destiny, even though the two storytellers disagree on how best to share their stories.
Beginning with the latter point, the two epics fundamentally differ in the authority of the storyteller and the intended spread of their stories. Sundiata: An Epic of Old Mali’s storyteller’s name is Djeli Mamadou Kouyaté. He is a griot belonging to a long line of griots. Not only does his lineage provide him the privilege and authority to tell epic stories, but his lineage tells him which stories to tell. He is not just any griot, but the griot of Mali’s princes, and he claims that the members of his lineage have been griots to the Keitas, the family of Sundiata, “since time immemorial” (1). Furthermore, his praise for himself is extensive. He introduces himself as “master in the art of eloquence” (1). Not only does he view himself to be extremely worthy of telling this tale, but he also does not believe in spreading the story any way other than through his or his line’s oral testimony. He warns that “learning should be secret” (41) and he decries the use of writing and books to impart history. Kouyaté argues that while his history is perfectly unaltered, history written in books becomes “congealed” (41).
Opposite Kouyaté on this front is Galawdewos, who believes himself to be entirely unworthy of telling the story of Walatta Petros, but argues that the epic is too important to not be published, which he does in writing. On the first point, Galawdewos is quite clear, explicitly stating that he is “not worthy to mention Walatta Petros’s name with [his] mouth or write her story with [his] polluted hand” (78-79). Not only is he not worthy of telling the story, but what little authority he does have is not bestowed upon him by his lineage, but rather by the sheer weight and importance of the story, along with his love for Walatta Petros. Despite his many self-professed inadequacies, the story must be told. It is all too “pure, holy, and sweet” a story “which will delight people’s hearts,” (81) and it therefore must be told, even if he is a profoundly unworthy storyteller. The mode of transmission is also notably different than in the epic of Sundiata. While the epic of Sundiata is only to be performed orally by a griot, the hagiography of Walatta Petros is written and should be spoken. Galawdewos implores that the book be read aloud once a year on the anniversary of Walatta Petros’s death (84) so that people both from his monastery and from faraway places (82) can hear the story of the saint Walatta Petros. Galawdewos, despite being an unworthy “fool” (83), writes down Walatta Petros’ story for the masses and does not believe that the story is “congealed” for doing so, as Kouyaté might.
Despite the difference in storytellers’ authority, the two epics share some of their authorities within the story, namely the authority destiny holds. The destiny of the two protagonists is established and foretold at the beginning of each epic, but the epics differ in the nature of the foretellers and the ability of their visions to be shared. The foreteller of Sundiata’s destiny is a hunter passing through the village of Niani where Sundiata and his father, the king, live. In addition, the hunter does not receive Sundiata’s destiny from a god, but rather from cowries (5). The authority that is given to the hunter’s prediction comes from his origin in the city of Sangaran (4), cementing the importance of origins to authority in this epic. The destiny of Walatta Petros, however, is foretold by a different kind of soothsayer: a monk (87). In this way, the source of authority on destiny comes from an organized religious institution and its monk’s visions, not a hunter and his cowries. In another difference between the two prophecies, the monk’s vision can be shared by others, as it is by both Walatta Petros’s mother and father before Walatta Petros’s conception. This shareability is in stark contrast to Sundiata’s destiny as seen by the hunter, which cannot be seen by the king who must beg the hunter to be as overt as possible when describing the prophecy (5). Even though the destinies are foretold by seers of two distinct natures in two different ways, the destinies are clearly authoritative in their respective texts. It is not only never questioned whether these destinies are correct, but any character in the two epics that stand in the way of such a destiny tend to be looked down upon by the narrator as being evil, while those that confirm and protect destiny are depicted as good.
It is not just the authority of destiny that the two epics share, but also those that allow and push destiny to be fulfilled: women. The nature of destiny as being furthered and confirmed by powerful women is immediately evident just in the titles used in many parts of the book. Though Sundiata: An Epic Old Mali is titled after the male protagonist, Sundiata is not the subject of many sentences describing his own actions, instead being called “the son of Sogolon.” Similarly, almost every chapter title in The Life and Struggles of Our Mother Walatta Petros begins with “Our Mother” even when the central action of the chapter isn’t even performed by Walatta Petros. While it is of little import that a chapter is called “Our Mother Preaches and Works Miracles” since it is Walatta Petros doing the action, chapters like “Our Mother is Persecuted by Ras Silla Kristos” are quite notable, given that “Our Mother” is the subject and first words of the chapter, even though Silla Kristos is the one actually doing the notable action (vii).
Beyond the titles used, is it quite evident that women move the story towards destiny. For example, it is not Sundiata but his mother Sogolon who decides the path of Sundiata’s journey away from home and back. It is Sogolon who makes the decision to leave Niani (26), beginning the journey that Sundiata needs to become king, along the way gaining wisdom, adulthood, and allies. During the journey too, Sogolon provides direction. Her sickness causes the family’s move from Wagadou, which the griot recognizes as a very important move: “their destiny lay elsewhere and they had to go away” (35). Furthermore, the entire journey away from Niani is within Sogolon’s duty to confirm destiny by raising a great king in Sundiata: “his destiny was now to be fulfilled. Sogolon knew that the time had arrived and she had performed her task” (37). Having satisfied her duty, Sogolon is the one to tell Sundiata to return to Niani, demonstrating her intelligence, timing, and role as a confirmer of destiny (38). In The Life and Struggles of Our Mother Walatta Petros, it is also a powerful woman who confirms destiny, with Walatta Petros being directly responsible for the construction of the communities that fulfill her prophecy.
These epics depict authority in ways that at times mirror each other, like in their continued placement of women at the forefront of confirming the utter truth that is destiny, but at other times stand in stark contrast, like in their storytellers’ views on the story itself. What is arguably most important about this duality, is not comparing the two on any sort of subjective level, but to acknowledge the two as both African. Americans, even educated ones, often think of Africa as a place with no indigenous written language and no indigenous monotheism, both of which are disproved by works such as The Life and Struggles of Our Mother Walatta Petros. Similarly, Americans often think of polygyny or exclusively male lines of formal rule as inherently subjugating and belittling women, yet Sundiata: An Epic of Old Mali, avoids these both with a depiction of Sogolon that places her at the forefront of confirming destiny. With their similarly powerful destiny-aligned women, yet their different opinions on knowledge transmission, both these epics coexist and we must acknowledge the dichotomy and unity these two epics present in the history of pre-colonial Africa.