Gender, Citizenship and Customary Law from Colonial to Commonwealth Africa
By Ada Okoye
(Lecturer,
Nigerian Law School, Enugu Campus)
Introduction
The
efforts of colonial governments to reconcile dual systems of law for the
orderly governance of colonial societies has been the subject of much scholarly
analysis. This paper will succinctly
present some key views on the factors that shaped the body of customary
practices and usage into customary law, showing also, how customary law
constructed citizenship for women.
Incursions into customary law initiated by judicial intervention in
Botswana and Nigeria will also be highlighted.
The appeal
of customary law to colonial authorities lay mostly in the fact that its
indigenous character facilitated the administration of law in colonial
societies. Therefore, not even the much
lamented unsystematic character of customary law application (when compared to
the law of colonizing countries) could obliterate this advantage. This same factor was what informed the
British system of indirect rule, first employed in the settlement of the Zulu
in Natal, South Africa, and subsequently applied as a policy by Lord Lugard in
the then Northern Nigeria and by Sir Donald Cameron in Tanganyika. Nevertheless, the colonial authorities did
their best to bring the body of customary law into an identifiable form by
codification in some areas. Where
customary law was not codified, its application was governed by several
criteria, the primary one being the repugnancy test. The repugnancy test applied to make a custom liable to abolition
by colonial courts if found to be repugnant to natural justice, equity and good
conscience.
It is
important to observe that not all customs operated as law. To qualify as customary law, a custom must
be accepted as an obligation by the community, and must be recognised as law by
members of the ethnic group or community to which it applied. Although the courts were not conferred with
power to modify a custom and apply or recognize the modified form as customary
law, they were nevertheless, obliged to recognize and enforce changes in
customary law brought about by social and political development, provided such
customs were still recognized, in their modified form, as binding custom within
the community.
This
“non-modification” stance of the colonial courts in respect of customary law
administration has been critiqued as retrogressive to the positive development
of custom. Rather than reject them in
their entirety, provision ought to have been made for the reform or
modification of cultural practices within the colonial legal system declared
barbaric by English standards. By
failing to make such provisions, the colonial courts actually slowed down the
pace of communal reform of custom.[i]
It is
further argued that the passive stance of the colonial courts with regard to
customary law reform may actually have served to perpetuate the enforcement of
unfavourable customary law on women in more ways than one. The next section will focus on ways in which
customary law constructed citizenship for women in colonial Africa.
First,
like the common law, rigid application of customary law also inflicted hardship
on its subjects. For instance, customary
law prescriptions on inheritance by women were, and still are, highly
restrictive with regard to ownership of property by women in most parts of
Nigeria, and indeed Africa. Unlike the
common law which was modified by the rules of equity, there was no
corresponding development to address the difficulties women encountered on the
loss of a husband or father, especially in the absence of a male child born to
the deceased.
Secondly,
the absolute power of the courts to abolish customs adjudged to have failed the
repugnancy test no doubt made the local people wary of foreign interference
with their customs. This translated
into a determination to protect those customs which remained untouched, or more
accurately, remained unchallenged in colonial courts. Thus a large body of customs have remained, denying women of
strategic rights relating to inheritance and ownership of property while
imposing undignified and absurd observances on them by way of widowhood rites.[ii]
It must be
remembered however, that the common law doctrine of coverture could not have
encouraged a development among local women in colonised territories which women
in England were yet to receive.
Coverture referred to the legal position of a married woman (who is also
referred to as a “femme covert”) under the marital power of her husband, and in
relation to whom she was a minor. As
Mamdani put it, “we are after all talking of an era when English common law
gave husbands controlling power over wives…”[iii]
The colonial
interests must therefore have been served by a maintenance of the status quo of
women’s apparent exclusion from the public sphere. In Nigeria, this is evidenced by the fact that women were not
enfranchised until 1959, the eve of Nigeria’s independence which followed in
1960, and even then, it was only women in southern Nigeria, possibly a remote
dividend of the Aba women’s riots of 1929, and the Egba revolts of 1954, which
were planned and executed by women in south-east and south-west Nigeria
respectively. Their counterparts in
northern Nigeria were given the vote in 1976.
The
conservative regime of customary law in relation to African women was further
strengthened by the complicity of the State, colonial and post-colonial, both
for similar reasons. While the former
needed allies among the men of the local communities in order to consolidate
their hold over local spaces, the latter, that is the post-colonial state,
could not afford to estrange the majority of their supporters, who in most
cases, were the conservative beneficiaries of the patriarchal tradition. Thus, improvements to the status of women in
Africa have been described as more of incidental benefits rather than specific
goals.[iv]
Simon,
writing on Southern Africa, maintains that African women had more rights as regards
both their person and property than was conceded them by alien courts in their
application of individualistic common law constructions of the concepts of
ownership, contract and status, out of the social context in which these terms
were developed and onto traditional African culture to which individualism was
alien. This assertion is supported by
Bennett’s argument that certain customary law institutions could have been
extended to accommodate modern social practices in a way that would have
benefited women considerably. For
instance, women were entitled in certain customs to keep proceeds made from
certain economic activities such as pottery, beer-brewing and mid-wifery. In such circumstances, a blanket application
of the coverture principle by the courts would serve to classify income from
these activities “house property” which effectively deprived the woman of
control over her income.[v]
This
state-community complicity remains an obstacle to the improvement of women’s
legal capacity in Africa. In Nigeria,
as in some parts of Southern Africa, the transposition of individualistic legal
concepts characteristic of western legal systems succeeded in obscuring the
role of traditional associations or institutions of women. For instance, the concentration of political
power in electoral processes in countries of the west, when transposed
wholesale on traditional African communities, interpreted women’s apparent
non-inclusion in formal, overt decision-making processes to mean that they were
entirely out of it. Formal and
semi-formal associations of women who exercised tremendous influence in
individual, family and communal affairs were effectively sidelined in as mush
as such institutions could not be reproduced in individualistic legal concepts
central to the legal systems of the colonizers. Thus, whatever gains might have accrued to women through the
development of the role of traditional institutions of women were never
realized. A case in point is the
“umu-ada” (meaning daughters of the lineage) in south-east Nigeria which is
employed to refer to the formal association of women in their natal home,
membership of which is open to all women from that community, married or
unmarried, including those married to men from other communities. This revered group exercises quasi-judicial
and administrative functions in their natal communities, and it is quite common
to find women travelling long distances from their husbands’ towns, villages
and places of abode to attend umu-ada meetings. In the absence of a recognition and
development of the role played by this institution, their famed power turned
inwards in the enforcement of widowhood rights against widows of men of the
lineage.[vi]
In
Southern Africa, the attempts of colonial governments at law reform to confer
the common law concept of age of majority on both men and women met with little
success as this was neither accepted by men in traditional communities, nor was
it utilized by women, most of whom were unaware of their new status. Besides, it would no doubt have been
considered foolhardy for a woman living in a local network of dependency to
seek refuge in an alien law for which her community had no respect. As Cheater observed, it is difficult to
benefit simultaneously from both statute and custom, and “in opting for
statutory rights in the context of one specific dispute, a litigant runs the
risk of jeopardizing her customary social entitlements, and it is on the basis
of these entitlements that most women survive.[vii] In the circumstance, women were subsequently
returned to minority status.
Considering
that the minority status for women was not with a view to protecting them (as
was the case with children) as much as it was for the purpose of restraining
them, it is not surprising that the positive contents of this status were not
applied to women. For instance, neither
the common law provisions precluding parental right to a minor’s income (in
this case the husband’s right) nor that prohibiting the alienation of immovables
administered by a guardian for a minor was applied to African women.[viii]
Further,
it is submitted that in keeping with the positive rationale of the concept,
minority status at common law was not a temporary state of affairs. That is to say, barring the incidence of
death, a minor had the certainty of attaining the age of majority, but for the
African woman, minority status operated only in a negatively permanent sense.
If the
recycling process that led to what eventually emerged as customary law in most
of colonial Africa were to be captured in a word picture, it would probably
appear like this:
“The substantive customary
law was neither a kind of historical and cultural residue carried like excess
baggage by groups resistant to “modernization” nor a pure colonial “invention”
or “fabrication”, arbitrarily manufactured without regard to any historical
backdrop and contemporary realities.
Instead it was reproduced through an ongoing series of confrontations
between claimants with a shared history
but not always the same notions of it…the presumption that there was a
single and undisputed notion of the customary, unchanging and implicit, one
that people knew as they did their mother tongue, meant that those without access to the Native authority
had neither the same opportunity nor political resources to press home their
point of view. In the absence of a
recognition that conflicting views of the customary existed, even the question
that they be represented could not arise.”[ix] -
emphasis added.
A gendered
view of this incisive analysis would doubtless locate women among the groups
who lacked opportunity and political resources to make their voices heard. Thus while they may have shared the same
history with the men, their notions of it, which may have been different, were
not given voice.
Judicial incursions into
gender-discriminatory customary and statutory law
Increasing
awareness of human rights secured in international instruments have created
avenues for challenging unjust, oppressive and discriminatory practices that
have persisted for years in the name of customary law. In 1997, in the Nigerian case of Mojekwu v. Mojekwu,[x]
the Court of Appeal held, overturning a long-standing custom in south-east
Nigeria, that a widow is entitled to inherit her husband’s property. Under the “oli-ekpe” custom which was the subject-matter of the case,
inheritance of the property of a deceased man was by his son, or if he had no
surviving son, by a surviving brother, or on the latter’s death, by his
son. The judgment rejecting this custom
was a unanimous decision by an all-male panel of judges who observed that “a
court of law being a court of equity as well, cannot invoke a customary law
which is repugnant to natural justice, equity and good conscience. The “oli-ekpe”
custom is one of such customs.”[xi]
This
pivotal precedence was consolidated by the same court in the 2000 case of Mojekwu v Ejikeme[xii]
in which the same custom in conjunction with a related one known as “nrachi” came up in issue and were both
rejected on grounds of repugnancy. The oli-ekpe and nrachi customs had been invoked to exclude the appellants (a woman,
her son and a third relevant person) from the property of the woman’s
grandfather which had passed onto her in the absence of a son in the
generations succeeding her grandfather.
The respondents, distant male cousins sought to dispossess the
appellants of the landed property on the ground that since the ancestor had no
surviving son, his property could vest
in his daughter (and subsequently, his granddaughter) if and only if the “nrachi” ceremony was performed on
them. This ceremony enabled a man who
had no son to keep back one of his daughters to produce a male heir. The daughter selected for this purpose would
be bound to refrain from marriage and to procreate outside the bounds of
marriage, but not a particular man until she produced a male heir or heirs
whereupon she regained her freedom to marry if she so wished. The argument of the respondents in this case
was that since this “transmutating”
ceremony was neither performed on the respondent’s mother nor on the
respondent in this case, she was not legitimized to produce a male heir to whom
title in the property could be transmitted, and so her son could not inherit
her grandfather’s (his great-grandfather’s) property in issue.
In
rejecting this custom, the Court of Appeal, again constituted by an all-male
panel of judges, observed that
“a lineage refers to a
direct line of descent and one can only talk of extinction of a lineage when
the line of descent is extinguished or wiped out in the sense that it is no
longer in existence or it is dead.
Where there are children or even grand-children and great-grandchildren,
directly traced or traceable to the ancestor, it will be wrong to hold that the
lineage is extinct….can the learned trial judge be heard to come to a
conclusion that Reuben Mojekwu’s lineage became extinct when Virginia, the
daughter is alive…?”[xiii]
Thus
a woman’s right of inheritance of her father’s property was established by this
judicial precedence.
While
it is gratifying to note these positive changes in the law, it is alarming to
consider that such customs may also exist untouched in the body of customary
law which the counsel for the state sought to preserve without change in the case of Attorney-General
of Botswana v Unity Dow[xiv]
In that case, the respondent Ms. Unity Dow, as the applicant in the High
Court, had petitioned the Court to declare sections 4 and 13 of the Botswana
Citizenship Act 1984 among others, ultra vires section 3 of the Botswana
Constitution 1966 which guarantees every citizen of Botswana fundamental rights
and freedoms without discrimination on grounds of sex, among others. The effect of the sections was to deprive a
Botswana woman of the power to transmit her citizenship to a foreign husband or
to children born in a marriage to a foreign man, a state of affairs that did
not apply to a Botswana man married to a foreign woman. The Court of Appeal upheld the High Court
judgment which had been delivered in favour of
Ms. Dow.
The
arguments for the state in this case were vigorously pursued on several grounds
one of which was the need to maintain certainty of citizenship, another way of
espousing the undesirability of dual citizenship. Other grounds were the preservation of customary law and the
maintenance of the body of law in general, “huge chunks of [which] would be
liable to be struck down” if all the discriminatory provisions were to be
removed. According to the
counsel for the state, “the whole fabric of the customary law in Botswana…is based
upon a patrilineal society which is gender-discriminatory in nature.”[xv] Leaving room for dual citizenship, it was
further asserted, would jeopardize the sole nationality of indigenous
people. It did not seem relevant to
this argument that the same consequences flowed from the marriage of a Botswana
man to a non-Botswana woman since the offspring of such a marriage would
usually be eligible for citizenship of their mother’s country as well as that
of their father’s; that customary law would not apply significantly, if at all,
in such a marriage, and that whatever jeopardy was foreseen to the indigenous
population by a male foreign spouse would not be removed by reason of the
foreign partner in the marriage being the woman.
It is
self-evident that the body of judicial decisions which address unjust customary
law is growing. What remains to be seen
is how women in Africa will appropriate the gains of these judicial victories,
especially in the light of certain factors which have been identified as
drawbacks to the women’s movement in Africa.
These factors include failure to mobilize across national borders, fear
of reprisal, as well as the nascent stage of the movement in many African
countries.[xvi]
It is
quite obvious that customary law as determined in colonial societies in Africa
was the product of confrontations between the colonizers and recognized
stakeholders in the colonized societies.
Recognition of a particular custom as law was conferred on the basis of
what a group could contribute to the advancement of the colonial agenda, and
the colonialists found the much-needed allies in the male custodians of power
in traditional societies. Consequently,
what came to be regarded as customary law resulted from the claims of those who
had access to native authorities. As a
result, customary practices which were not necessarily obligations, and many of
which were restrictive to women, made their way into the recognized body of
customary law. In this way, the
inherent advantage of fluidity and dynamism characteristic of the regulation of
life in traditional societies was arrested in a way that hampered the
progressive development of custom and deprived women of the consummate benefits
of a dynamic legal regime. This legacy,
among others, is what the African women’s movement in the twenty-first century
will have to address at a generic level by various means which will include
negotiation, education and enlightenment of women and not least, judicial
intervention.
[i]
B. Ibhawoh, Between Culture and Constitution: The Cultural Legitimacy of Human
Rights in Nigeria (Copenhagen: The Danish Centre For Human Rights, 1999), pp.
39-40
[ii]
See A. Atsenuwa, “Women’s Rights Within the Family Context: Law and Practice”
in (A. Obilade Ed.), Women in law Pub. No.1 (Southern University Law Centre,
Baton Rouge & Faculty of Law, University of Lagos Project Series, 1993)
[iii]
M. Mamdani, Citizen and Subject:
Contemporary Africa and the Legacy of Late Colonialism (Princeton Studies
in Culture/Power/History, 1999), p. 117
[iv]
T.W. Bennett, A Sourcebook of African Customary Law for Southern Africa (Cape Town: Juta & Co. Ltd.,
1991) pp. 331-2
[v]
Bennett, op. cit. at 32
[vi]
See P. Okoye, Widowhood: A Natural or
Cultural Tragedy (Enugu, Nigeria: Nucik Publishers, 1995)
[vii]
A. Cheater, “Investigating Women’s Legal Rights and Social Entitlements: Some
Suggestions From Social Anthropology” in Perspetives
on Research Methodology (Women and Law in southern Africa Research Project,
working Paper No. 2, Dec. 1990) p. 79 at 84
[viii]
Bennett op. cit. at 32
[ix] Mamdani, op. cit. at 118
[x]
[1997] 7NWLR 283
[xi]
Ibid. per Niki Tobi, JCA at 305
[xii]
[2000]5 NWLR 402
[xiii]
Ibid. at 434
[xiv]
The proceedings in this case were reported in U. Dow, The Citizenship Case: The Attorney-General of the Republic of Botswana
v. Unity Dow (Gaborone: Lentswe La Lesedi Pty. Ltd., 1995)
[xv]
Ibid. at 20; see also pp. 24 & 28
[xvi]
S. Tamale, “Taking the Beast by its Horns: Formal Resistance to Women’s
Oppression in Africa” in Africa
Development (Dakar: CODESRIA) Vol. XXI, No. 4, 1996 p. 5