The Tribune

By Dr Selima Hauber

SUMMER Temperatures have eased, and the days are getting shorter. Hurricane threats are lessening, and our beautiful waters are regaining their mesmerizing turquoise hue as algal blooms associated with summer heat dissipate. These occurrences can only mean one thing – we must be in November! The month is marked by one of the quintessential American holidays, which we as a nation have somewhat adopted for the celebration of its gastronomic pleasures. It is widely held that the first American Thanksgiving was a harvest feast shared by the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag people, an indigenous North American Tribe, in 1621. The feast consisted of indigenous game, vegetables and fruit of the Americas – turkey, cranberries and pumpkin to name just a few.

Pondering this widely observed and historical meal, that literally brought two different worlds together, caused me to think of the botanical legacy our ancestors bequeathed to us that is now an indelible part of our foodways and heritage. The pride and gratitude I feel are almost palpable when I think about the crops that were created by them.

Now to illustrate the significance of this legacy, let us recall my article on artificial selection a few months ago - the process by which man domesticates wild plants over millennia turning them into sought-after palate-pleasers. All of the produce we purchase from markets and grocery stores today were once nondescript plants that had at least one desirable, edible characteristic that enticed man to harvest it and replant it year after year. With each harvest, the best of the crop would be selected and saved until millennia later, we have a fruit or vegetable that is unrecognizable from its wild ancestor.

Cereal crops that were domesticated in Africa by our forefathers are millet, African rice and sorghum. Sorghum once played a big role in the Bahamian diet. If the name does not ring a bell, simply listen to Ronnie Butler’s song ‘Burma Road.’ I recall singing the song verbatim as a child and not having a clue about one particular dish he references as, “guinea corn, hominy and lard”. I later learned that Sorghum is guinea corn!

With global warming threatening food production around the world because of unpredictable, extreme climatic events, guinea corn is now highly prized for its high tolerance to heat and drought. Unlike ‘Indian corn’ or maize, its grains can mature under drought conditions, producing a decent and significant yield.

Legumes are plants in the pea and bean family, and it was our forefathers who contributed black-eyed peas and pigeon peas to the global pantry. Again, I recall the name of a legume that I have heard mentioned often as a child, that seems to have escaped the modern Bahamian lexicon – Bonavist Bean. This is another legume domesticated on the African continent that once featured prominently in our subsistence farms and diet.

Fruits (botanically speaking) that we enjoy today that were domesticated in Africa are tamarind, ackee, watermelon, muskmelon and okra. Sorrel or roselle is another particularly beautiful, edible gift of our forefathers to the world. Much of the temperate world refers to it as hibiscus and Latin America knows it as ‘Flor de Jamaica.’

Every time you enjoy benne cake, or eat a hamburger or bagel studded with sesame seeds, you can thank the ancestors. Benne was domesticated on the African continent. In our bush medicine practices, Cerasee and Castor Bean are also of African origin.

The introduction of these crops to the New World was through our enslaved ancestors via the Transatlantic Slave Trade. There are numerous accounts from as early as the 17th century by European botanists and naturalists crediting enslaved Africans with the presence and knowledge of these novel plants in the Americas. Stories are also told of how enslaved African women braided seeds in their hair for security as they were forced on the treacherous journey across seas. These seeds, in many instances medicinal, later ensured the survival of some of the foodways originating from the African continent.

There are many more plants domesticated by our forefathers that I could mention, but I have chosen to mention the ones that are most familiar to us as Bahamians. While I feel a profound sense of pride and gratitude, I also feel a slight sense of grief. I grieve the absence of some of these foods from the modern Bahamian diet. I grieve the loss of the permanence of these ancestral gifts from our heritage. I grieve the absence of ancestral knowledge of many plant species that could have changed the course of our current foodways, health and agricultural industry.

Instead of a salad made from boiled yams which according to some sources originated in Western Africa around 5000 BC, we now eat potato salad. Common vegetable sides offered at cookouts and by roadside vendors are iceberg ‘lettuce and tomatoes’ whereas African spinach aka callaloo can hold a place. Yellow corn grits dominate today, when my mother and grandmother ate guinea corn grits just as often as they did grits from maize.

It is my wish that as a nation, we honour our ancestors’ botanical legacy not only to us, but to the world. This recognition should take place via several means. We first need to make sure that school curricula and agriculture programmes include historical and practical instruction regarding these crops and their health benefits. In addition to learning the facts, students should be encouraged to plant diverse gardens with some of these crops and be exposed to lessons on how these foods were traditionally prepared. Production of these crops in commercial and subsistence settings ought to be reintroduced. From a practical standpoint, chefs ought to study historical methods of preparing traditional foods and devise new methods that might make them more accessible and appealing to our current palate. Rediscovering our ancestral foodways and reintroducing these foods can provide valuable insight into our history, community health and culture. With these steps, we can reclaim and herald our heritage and have a fuller sense of who we are as a people.

• Dr Selima Hauber, PhD, is the agricultural education and outreach officer at OEF and CTI. Established in 2012, the One Eleuthera Foundation (OEF) is a non-profit organisation located in Rock Sound, Eleuthera. For more information, visit www.oneeleuthera.org or email info@oneeleuthera. org. The Centre for Training and Innovation (CTI) is the first and only postsecondary, non-profit education and training institution and social enterprise on Eleuthera. CTI operates a student training campus in Rock Sound, Eleuthera, with a 16-room training hotel, restaurant and farm. For more information about CTI’s programmes, email: info@oneeleuthera.org.