Age Old Iron

In August last year, a team of archaeologists, historians and Rwandan Villagers recreated an ancient method of iron-smelting, using a clay kiln and sheepskin bellows. Mukandoli Una and Ikaze’s photographer Tom Martin, were invited to watch the explosive results.
Blasts of flame one meter high erupted from the top of a beehive-shaped clay kiln as we watched the reconstruction of a 2000 year-old method of smelting iron ore. This amazing experiment was organised by a young English Lady, Jane Humphries, a student of archaeology at University College London, in collaboration with the Museum of Butare. The Director of the museum himself, Mr Celestin Kanimba, oversaw the project. The plan was to smelt iron from samples of iron ore taken from different locations in Rwanda – Nyabitare, Kamonyi, Ruhondo and Musange.

The experiment took place in a village about 20 kilometres from the town of Gitarama. This location was chosen because historically the elders of these particular villages were the ones who used to make the iron. They are called “amaramba” (smelters) in Kinyarwanda and are very proud of their ancestry.

The men had dug out a circle of about two meters in diameter and 30 centimetres deep. In the middle of this circle they had dug a hole one meter in diameter and 50 centimetres deep. They had then built the meter-high kiln using a special type of clay found in the area, first covering the floor of the hole with a thick layer of rolled, coiled clay which starts in a spiral from the centre. Once the floor is covered, the wall is built up in the same way, leaving an opening at the top. The kiln had been built fifteen days prior to the firing in order to allow the clay to harden.

Around the base of the kiln are six outlets using cone shaped clay funnels to accommodate the tip of the bellows, which are carved from one piece of wood and have two funnels. The top part is hollow and is covered with a reversed sheepskin with the wool facing inside. The skin is then oiled with what is called “amavuta y’inka”, which is actually butter, except that in Rwanda the butter is allowed to become rancid before use. The butter is applied generously and rubbed in to make the skin pliable. Bamboo stems two metres long are inserted into the skin about ten centimetres apart, and secured. The bellows are operated by continuous pumping in an alternate movement of both hands, at a frenzied pace which demands so much energy that the blowers rotate every thirty minutes.

It was firing up time and one of the older men brought a huge sheaf of dried ferns while another ignited it using burning dried grass. They then stuffed the whole lot into the top of the kiln. The burning fern gave off a thick white smoke that billowed furiously with the wind, surrounding us in its thick cloak. This operation was repeated several times until the bottom of the kiln was covered in a deep layer of shimmering cinders, and then the first load of charcoal was added. As soon as they started adding charcoal the six bellows sprung into action, madly pumping air into the funnels. The charcoal was added progressively until the kiln was filled with red-hot coals. The ore was then sprinkled on top and another layer of charcoal added. This was repeated regularly throughout the day with no interruption.

This whole process takes six to seven hours, so once it was launched we just dug in and became part of it. The atmosphere was incredible and mounted in intensity as the day wore on, certainly stimulated by the amounts of Rwarwa (local banana beer, very potent) that the bellows team were enthusiastically imbibing. With the constant pumping of the six bellows giving off a drum-like pulsation in a hypnotic rhythm, the heat of the day, the heat of the kiln, the chanting of the blowers and the wind swirling through the banana grove, we were all in a totally mesmerized state.

This system is not very tree friendly as forty were required to produce enough charcoal for one firing. In days gone by, Rwanda had no shortage of trees so the ecological problem did not arise. However, this experiment was a one-off, not carried out with the intention of reviving the system. Rather, it aimed to bring to mind that hundreds of years prior to the arrival of any colonists, the Rwandans were producing their own iron.

We were bathed in the glow given off by the furnace as the sun set and the experiment reached its conclusion. The whole day was now under scrutiny – everyone, and especially Jane was in total suspense. Did it work or was it a failure?

None of the men who had participated had actually done it before. The iron-smelting trade existed up to the times of their grandfathers, but had become redundant with the introduction by Europeans of cheaper, industrially produced iron in the late nineteenth and twentieth century’s.

The time had finally come and two of the men took long poles and started dislodging the kiln at the base and trying to topple it over. This took quite some time so the suspense was at its highest, when at last the kiln toppled over in a shower of sparks and a great roar went up to assist it. There, among the still incandescent embers of the charcoal, was a load of about fifty kilos of smelted iron. Jane was ecstatic, her gamble had paid off; she had recreated an age-old skill that was completely successful. We all felt that somehow we were part of her success and among much congratulating and well-wishing, we finally took our leave. We made our way back to Kigali exhausted but still glowing from the sensation of a job well done.