Gold that Heals - ‘Sh’i yiri’ Shea Butter (Copy)
In this deeply personal & evocative piece, agroecologist and oral storyteller maïmouna kanté time travels into the fond memories of her childhood, recanting the integral role of sh’i (Vitellaria paradoxa) in her early life. From the nurturing massages with sh’i tulu as an infant to the playful days spent gathering sh’i den with her cousins, maïmouna beautifully illustrates the profound connection between her family and the 'women’s gold' of Mali, musing on the various cultural and medicinal underpinnings of sh’i tulu (shea butter).
Bambara : English
Sh’i : shea
Den : fruit
Yiri : tree
Tulu : butter
In Mali, sh’i (Vitellaria paradoxa) is a part of the cycle of life, from birth to death.
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I don’t have recollections of my skin being massaged with sh’i tulu when I was an infant. But I am nearly certain that, like my baby cousins, nieces, and nephews, I too was thoroughly massaged with sh’i tulu daily. It is a ritual that happens with the newborn and the mother or the grandmother. For the newborn, beyond the bonding moment with the female figure, it helps to increase blood circulation, address diaper rashes, and even potential eczema. Sh’i tulu is used copiously on the mother too, to comfort her stretching skin and it quickly becomes a source of comfort. Right before the sun goes down, after everyone’s evening shower, we see toddlers walk around with shiny faces from their sh’i tulu ritual.
Around the age of 10, I would spend the rainy seasons at my grandmothers' houses. One lived in Segou, and the other in Markala, both in the central part of Mali. It took about an hour to travel from Segou to Markala. In Segou, all my maternal cousins would gather, and we would spend many days scouring the streets. Occasionally, we would hop into a car with an uncle to visit the outskirts of Segou. During those car rides we ended up at a family member’s house whose gate faced a sh’i yiri park.
There were hundreds of trees—mid-sized, majestic, and fruit-bearing. As we ran around the trees chasing each other, we would collect the fruits that had dropped. Their skin was wrinkly, green, and ever so slightly bitter, while the pulp was creamy, yellow, and perfectly sweetened every time. At the center was a circular seed, brown in color with an almond shape that was slightly darker. We would devour the pulp, leaving brown seeds on the ground, and move on to the next fruit. We were always told not to eat too much, the same advice one gets when given a bag of candy. But the fruit was filled with such sweetness, and we were bursting with youthful carelessness and defiance. We would eat until we couldn't anymore and then lay under the shade of the tree that was simultaneously the cause of our joy and misery.
Sh’i yiri (Vitellaria paradoxa) is often referred to as 'women’s gold.' The English word 'shea' is derived from the Bambara word 'sh’i.' The Bambara language, also known as Bamanankan, is a Manding language spoken by millions of people not only in Mali but also in neighboring countries such as Burkina Faso, Senegal, and Ivory Coast. The word has a triple entendre, depending on the intonations used: one meaning is shea, the other is age, and lastly seed. In Senegal, sh’i yiri is known as 'gharité.' 'Karité' is also how it is referred to in French. Sh’i yiri is a medium-sized tree, shorter than the Baobab but of similar complexion. It grows naturally in the western and central African grasslands without irrigation, fertilizer, or pesticides. However, it takes up to 25 years to grow and start bearing fruit.
From the beginning to the end women are central to the story of sh’i yiri, sh’i den and finally sh’i tulu. When the season comes, women gather in groups and pick the fruits and/or seeds that were left behind in the sh’i yiri parks. Nowadays this is shared in the form of cooperation where a group of women gather to process sh’i tulu and sell it to cosmetic brands. Much of our cosmetics contain sh’i tulu.
The process of transforming sh’i den into sh’i tulu involves several intricate and physically demanding steps deeply ingrained in the cultural practices of the community. Let's delve deeper into each phase to capture the richness of this traditional method:
HARVEST
Women venture into the sh’i yiri parks, areas abundant with the shea tree, to gather the fruits or seeds. This harvesting activity often occurs after the fruiting season, when the ripe fruits have fallen to the ground. In some cases, women may also be tasked with picking the fruits once they have ripened. This communal activity not only ensures a bountiful harvest but also fosters social bonds within the community.
PRELINARY PROCESSING
Upon returning to the village with their harvest, the women initiate the processing by first removing the outer skin and pulp of the fruits. This is typically achieved through boiling, which softens the outer layers, making it easier to extract the seeds.
DRYING & CRACKING
Once the seeds have been separated, they are left to dry thoroughly, often under the sun's warmth. This drying process helps to reduce moisture content, ensuring the seeds are primed for the subsequent steps. After the initial drying, the kernels within the seeds are cracked open, typically by hand, to access the valuable oil-rich nuts inside. These cracked nuts are then subjected to another round of drying, further preparing them for the extraction process.
EXTRACTION & SHAPING
The dried nuts are ground finely to facilitate the separation of oils from the butter. This grinding process requires precision and skill to achieve the desired consistency. The resulting mixture is then subjected to a shaping process, where it may be molded into various forms before it cools and solidifies. This shaping step is often influenced by local customs and preferences, adding a cultural dimension to the final product.
It's important to note the yield of this labor-intensive process. Approximately three kilograms of shea nuts yield about one kilogram of sh’i tulu, highlighting the meticulous effort required to produce this valuable commodity. Despite the arduous nature of the process, the economic incentives associated with sh’i tulu have led to a more collective approach to production, with women working together to maximize their output and economic opportunities.
With three months of rain and nine months of dryness, the weather in this region of the world is harsh, but this tree is a source of life and health. From the roots to the bark to the leaves, all hold significance to the local communities where sh’i yiri is indigenous. Each part of the tree plays a role in various healing remedies, but perhaps the most intriguing aspect is sh’i tulu, extracted from the fruit.
We weren’t limited to using sh’i tulu solely on our skin. In my upbringing, my mother applied the butter to everything. We always had sh’i tulu in its purest forms at home. If you fell and got cut, 'bring the pot of shea butter and apply some.' If you have a cold, 'put some shea butter in your nose.' If you were coughing heavily, 'swallow a scoop of shea butter.' Shea butter was not just a topical treatment; it was medicinal, inside and out. From a young age, it was evident to many of us that sh’i tulu was a necessity.
Due to sh’i tulu’s richness in various vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants, it holds immense value. High quantities of Vitamin A and E within the butter promote healthy skin and eyes. Vitamin E, an antioxidant, shields the skin from UV rays and environmental toxins, bolstering the body’s defenses against illnesses. Additionally, lesser quantities of Vitamin K, Vitamin F, and zinc contribute to its healing properties. This natural remedy is utilized to maintain a newborn baby’s smooth skin, fade scars, treat stretch marks, diaper rash, and even eczema. These attributes have led many to adopt a lifelong reliance on sh’i tulu as a skincare staple. As one ages and experiences more joint pains, its anti-inflammatory properties become increasingly valued.
My fondest memories of sh’i tulu involve early mornings in the red-tinted neighborhood of Kirango in Markala. Led by my nose, I'd stroll through the streets, eventually arriving at an intersection where a middle-aged woman sat surrounded by children, each holding pots, eagerly awaiting servings of the fermented treats fried in shi’tulu. This was just one of the ways we consumed sh’i tulu. Often, it served as a savory dish's starting or finishing touch, added as one rich scoop of butter. Comprising both monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fats, sh’i tulu aids in reducing cholesterol levels and mitigating the risk of heart disease. These fats also enhance the absorption of fat-soluble vitamins essential for bodily functions such as vision, immune response, bone health, and blood clotting, while also providing anti-inflammatory benefits.
“In traditional West Africa, from birth to death, sh’i tulu is considered a medicinal treasure: well-kept beauty secret comestible butter.”
Shea butter from West Africa has been a constant presence in my life for as long as I can remember. It was the only type of shea butter I knew until much later when I discovered that sh’i yiri also grows in East Africa. Despite sharing similar properties, these two varieties of shea butter are distinct in their own ways.
West African shea butter, or sh'i tulu, has a waxy texture that often remains on the skin's surface, requiring friction to warm and facilitate absorption. It contains higher levels of vitamin A compared to its East African counterpart. On the other hand, East African shea butter is less waxy and readily absorbed by the skin, albeit with slightly lower levels of vitamin E, which aids in skin healing.
maimouna herself, juxtaposed over shea butter leaves.
maimouna’s grandmother, juxtaposed over shea bark.
My grandmother's consistent use of shea butter left a lasting impression on me. With a pot of shea butter always by her bedside, she maintained youthful, elastic, and vibrant skin well into her 100s. As we age, we gain a deeper understanding of the wisdom passed down by our elders. We begin to appreciate their perspectives and experiences, realizing the significance of their advice. This journey of understanding often requires us to take the road less traveled.
Sh’i tulu remains a constant companion from birth to death,
symbolizing a timeless tradition of care for the skin and nourishment for the body.
