Singo Leiyo, who researches future prospects and challenges of the semi-nomadic Maasai, reports on migratory pastoralism, oral tradition and his commitment to women’s rights.

Interview by Matthias Fersterer, first published in Oya magazine, issue #63/2021.

Thank you for taking time for this interview, Singo! Where are you currently living?  

Singo Leiyo: In Bayreuth, where I am working on a PhD project at the university.

You were born as a Maasai. Would you tell us about your childhood?  

I was born in a village called -Engikaret – “thorn bush,” because of the many acacia trees that grow there – in northern Tanzania. At the Congo Conference in Berlin in 1884/85, the colonial powers had drawn the political map of Africa on the drawing board, dividing Maasai land into two states: Tanzania and Kenya. I was born around 1991. Very few Maasai keep calendars, but remember dates based on important events. My parents told me I was born when our people “went to the white mountain,” meaning Kilimanjaro with its glacier cover – this was in 1991 due to a drought. As a child I protected the kids from eagles, leopards and hyenas, and at the age of six I became a shepherd.

At six?! How big was the herd?  

Maasai life is organized communally. That’s why I herded not only my father’s animals, but also those of my grandfather and my uncles. In total, there were up to 200 cows and goats.

I am impressed! My six-year-old son loves animals, but we wouldn’t trust him with a herd … Back to you: How did you come to Germany?  

Fortunately, I was allowed to go to school. Then I got a place to study in Dar es Salaam. Thanks to the research project “Batata” of the Universities of Bayreuth and Tübingen, I was able to come to Germany as part of my doctoral project.

What are you researching? 

About bio-economy in the global South, using Tanzania as an example. In my research, I ask how pastoralists – people who live from migratory pastoralism – can protect themselves from discrimination and create sustainable images of the future. A working title is “Seeing like a Pastoralist” in reference to the anthropologist James C. Scott.

How exactly do the Maasai live today – nomadically or in settlements? 

In the past, there were no permanent settlements, but in the 1960s and 1970s, the socialist government wanted to settle pastoralists by building settlements on the model of the Chinese Cultural Revolution. This was only partially successful. Today, most Maasai live semi-nomadically – in semi-permanent settlements – moving with herds from pasture to pasture throughout the seasons.

Was it a seasonal migration when you moved to the “white mountain”? 

Yes. Such seasonal migrations can last up to four or five months, with the old and sick staying behind in the village until the others return.

What threatens the pastoralists’ way of life today?

Seasonal migrations have been made very difficult for at least three reasons: the creation of national parks created a shortage of land. In Tanzania, six or seven national parks were established on Maasai land, the most famous being Serengeti Park. The Maasai are no longer allowed to enter the land, but in times of need they resist and drive their herds there anyway. State agents set dogs on them, use armed force or fine them. The government threatens further relocation.

Our friend Michael Succow told similar stories about the San in the Kalahari Desert in southern Africa. It sounds paradoxical to want to protect the landscape while driving away the people who have been caring for the land for thousands of years!  

Tour groups and hunting parties bring much more money into the state coffers than nomadic herders. The government boasts that about 40 percent of the land is protected, but the local people suffer from this practice.

What other challenges do the Maasai face today? 

Due to climate change, droughts are becoming more frequent and extreme, and herds are dying for lack of pasture. Herds are at the center of Maasai culture. If the herds die, we lose not only our economic base, but also our cultural identity. In 2009, there was a severe drought in East Africa. Many people lost their herds, and some said we had to give up our way of life altogether. All this put my grandfather in his grave; the official cause of death was a heart attack, but in reality he died of a broken heart – his herd was his heart.

What else threatens the way of life?  

Adaptation to modern civilization threatens the values of the traditional pastoral way of life, which is communal, egalitarian, and organized with flat hierarchies around different age groups. Land, animals and food are traditionally shared. There is a taboo against eating alone: Anyone who wants to eat a meal must find at least one other person to share the meal. Some younger people want to live more individualistically. Although elders still have much authority in matters of land and herd management, the money economy is pushing into this area as well. Until now, our animals have served subsistence rather than monetary profit – the herd gives us milk, meat, dowry, and gifts to forge and maintain bonds of friendship.

How many such age groups are there? 

There used to be six, but today, as far as I know, there are only five groups: The youngest are the “warriors” (Ilnyangulo), of 15 and 25 years, who are responsible for protecting the village and herds and scouting out pastures. I belong to the “younger -elders” (Irkorianga), my father to the “older elders” (Ilmakaa), in between are the “elders” (Ilandiis) and finally the “old-honored” (Iseuri). Each age group has its own leader or father figure (menye-layok) and commits certain rites of passage. These rituals are essential to the cohesion and cultural continuity of the Maasai, but are threatened by the influences of modern education and Christianity.

How do you make decisions?  

There are decisions on different levels. At the family level, it is important to understand that the Maasai live polygamously. A man can have several wives – two, three, four and even up to ten. The father is the head of the family and has the final say in family matters. Women are responsible for the household, which includes milking, gathering firewood, fetching water, building the round huts, and making jewelry. Men are responsible for medicine, education, well construction, for the herds and pastures, and for the protection of the community. When decisions need to be made at the village community level, all the men gather under an old tree and confer. One of them steps into the middle, presents his argument and goes back into the circle. This can take all day, and if there is no consensus in the evening, the round is adjourned. Everything is decided by consensus. Then there are venerable speakers – called alaigwanani (singular) and ilaigwanak (plural) – who draw from tradition and remember previous decisions in similar cases.

How are the father figures and the venerable speakers appointed?  

Both must be peaceful, wise, humble, just and brave. Children who combine these qualities are observed and invited to contribute their opinions; later they may be appointed to such office by consensus.

What role does the oral storytelling tradition play in everyday life?  

It is very crucial – the Maasai are the best storytellers! When there was no television, radio or internet, storytelling was the only means of communication. This tradition is still upheld. Unfortunately, I am not as good a storyteller as my father. Sometimes he teases me because I answer his questions on the phone in such monosyllables. When my father came home in the evening, he would tell of his day’s progress from dawn to dusk without leaving out a single detail: I went from here to there, met this one and that one, rested by the river and took a nap by that tree, then I was awakened by a galloping herd of zebras, went in the direction from which it had come, and met a pack of hyenas … Visitors from other villages tell in great detail about the weather, the people, the herds, the constellations of stars – the Maasai tales hold explanations for everything imaginable! Four-hour story arcs are not uncommon, and as a child I listened to these evening stories.

Can you say a little more about the role of women among the Maasai?  

Maasai culture is wonderful, but unfortunately it also has blind spots, and these include the low social status of women. Sometimes twelve-year-old girls are married off against their will to men who could be their fathers. This breaks my heart! My sister should have married an older man when she was in fifth grade. My brother and I turned to the police and social services – and that’s how we managed to save our sister on the day of the planned wedding! She is graduating from high school soon. My brother tries to influence the men in particular not to marry off their daughters at a young age, but to send them to school instead. He also acts as a mediator between women and social institutions. This work is laborious and lengthy, but there are initial successes.

Thank you for raising this point – and thank you very much for this insight into Maasai life! //