Prayers of a Godless Man - III

One fortuitous afternoon last August, I was hurrying home to escape the oppressive heat that characterizes sub-Saharan Africa’s weather at that time of the year; side-stepping random pedestrians and looking out for the reckless boda-boda riders that dart about Kampala’s dusty suburbs like geckos on fly-infested walls; when I bumped into a duo of white-shirted, black-trousered young men; grasping bibles in hand, with rucksacks slung over shoulder.

I made to by-pass them, but to my mild irritation, they hailed me, and attempted to strike-up conversation;

‘Hello brother, my name is Elder Spencer and I have some good news for you. My colleague is Elder Ndovu …’

Now – Spencer  happened to be white; so I was troubled to see how cracked his lips were and how mottled his skin had become from exposure to the merciless tropical sun. Ndovu happened to be as black as myself, though the name wasn’t familiar, so I couldn’t quite place his ‘nationality’.

But I knew they were young Mormon missionaries – they’re too conspicuous with their badges and their amusing naivety.
In my ‘colonial’ mind, Spencer was the missionary, and Ndovu the collaborator. Spencer also did almost all the talking.

‘Yes folks, as you can tell, I’m in a bit of a hurry to get somewhere …’

‘We understand, brother, but we want to share the word of Jesus with you. So, you are brother who?’ Spencer queried.

‘Surumani …’

‘Wow; that’s a nice name … but don’t you have an easier one ..?’

'Manzi ...?'

'No man - that's not easier ...'

‘What do you mean, easier?’

‘I mean like an English name …’ Spencer smiled, giving away his patronizing presumptions.

‘Why should I have an English name …?’

‘Man – everyone does … like Elder Ndovu here is called Benjamin …’

‘Benjamin is not an English name  ... it’s anglicized Hebrew …’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean it’s a Hebrew name … ‘

‘Fine. Don’t you have an English or Hebrew name, man …?’

‘Do I look English or Hebrew to you?’

‘No …’

‘What am I?’

'African … '

‘Then why isn’t it fitting that I have only an African name …?’

‘But the world is globalized man ... culture is dynamic ...’

‘What’s your other name, Spencer?’

‘Taylor …’

‘Why not Ojangande?’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s an African name … from the Luo people …’

‘I see … is that a country?’

‘No – it’s a nationality …’

‘You mean an African tribe?’

‘No. I mean a nationality. You may call it an ethnicity …’

‘But you have tribes in Africa …’

‘No Spencer, we have nationalities. Cannibals have tribes … Incestuous people have tribes ...’

‘Anyway don’t you at least have a Christian name? I imagine you’re a Christian …’

‘What makes you think I’m a Christian ..?’

‘Well – coz you’re not wearing a Kanzu or a Fez ..’

‘And what would that imply …?’

‘Here in your country – people are either Muslim or Christian; and the Muslim men grow beards or wear caps … so are you a Muslim?’

‘No – I’m not ...’

‘Wow – so what are you?’

‘I’m a human being … an African …’

‘Do you practice witchcraft?’

‘What does that mean …?’

‘I mean, Africans that don’t believe in foreign gods practice Witchcraft …’

‘What about African gods?’

‘There are no African gods …’

‘They are usually called ancestors … the same way Jesus is an ancestor of the Jews …’

‘Jesus is God …’

‘God the son; He’s an ancestor of all mankind, allegedly …isn't this your belief?’ 

 ‘You might say that …but African ancestor worship is similar to devil worship …’

‘Wow! So you think there is this one God …?’

‘That’s right. There is only one God … and his son is Jesus …’

‘No. Jesus was just a Jewish rabbi. But his historicity is actually subject to doubt …’

‘Man – you’re a strange one. But anyway – we’d like to share the Word with you. Can we sit down somewhere and talk …’

‘Sorry. But I’m a bit strapped for time now …’

‘No problem. Just give us your number here ... and we’ll call you up tomorrow …’

Spencer produces a small notebook and flips it open. I can see a long list of names and numbers.

Unfortunate fellow Africans that are being deluded by another religious fabrication, I can’t help thinking.

I play it cool and give him the number. Each party goes its way.

        ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sure as sunrise, I am about my business next-day, having all but forgotten the encounter; when my phone buzzer goes off with an unfamiliar number. I pick up.

‘Heylo …’

‘Hi Surumani? This is Spencer from yesterday. So we’re here in Bukawtow (Bukoto?), and we wanna see you. Are you around …?’

‘Ahhhh … Oh, Spencer! The son of Joseph Smith ... Hehe ..’

‘Man, are you around? Coz we’re here at the place we met yesterday …’

‘Fine. You can wait there a short while … I’ll come pick you up …’

‘Ok!’ Phone connection is cut.

About twenty minutes later, I walk up to the team and notice there are three this time; Spencer and two African ‘reinforcements’.

‘Hello Surumani … so today we brought along Brother Thomas to share the word …’

‘Brother … not Elder …?’ I quiz, as we all exchange courtesies.

‘No. Elder is reserved for missionaries with some experience …’

‘So Brother Thomas is an apprentice …’

‘You may call him that …’

‘So Spencer, tell me about your Latter-Day Saints’ Ministry …’

Spencer eyes me warily, as I walk the trio towards home so we may sit down for some lengthy exchange. They look visibly tired. The Lord’s Ministry doesn’t pay – I think, but keep that thought to myself.

‘You know about our Church?’

‘A precious little …’

‘Okay … what’ve you been told?’

‘That you have an American Messiah …’

‘That’s not true …we believe in Jesus of Nazareth …’

‘But Joseph Smith is your last Apostle …’

‘He is the founder of our revival, yes …’

We’ve arrived home by now and find a shaded spot under which to carry on. I rub my palms and whet my ‘conversational’ appetite;

‘You have a pretty decent home, Surumani …’ Spencer comments, almost wryly.

‘It’s my mother’s home, not mine …’

‘But it’s pretty decent …’

‘Why would you say that …?’

‘I mean – there’s a car and it’s a pretty house and …’

‘Look here Spencer; that Toyota car you see is a sign that my family supports the Japanese economy. Half the material that built that house is imported from China or India … the television inside is a Samsung made in South-Korea … ’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means Africans are nothing but a consumer market. Especially those of us who claim to be part of the middle-class. We produce nothing of value and import all the trinkets we need to appear modern and civilized. As you can see – you and I are speaking English now, which is your country’s language, not mine. Even the clothes I’m wearing may have been made by your Uncle somewhere in an American textile factory …’

‘Surumani – every country on earth has its problem. Even America where I’m from …’

‘Yes. I haven’t said America is desirable. You guys are all choking on debt and your lives are run by credit-cards. I wouldn’t want to live like that … yet your country poses as idyllic …’

‘Yes …’ Spencer whispers faintly, shocked at my tirade.

‘Look Spencer, I mean no disrespect but my African society has been mistreated. Those cars we import poison our air … and you’re here trying to convert me to an American religion …’

Spencer looks pained; even threatened.
I sympathize with the young man and let him off the hook.

‘So Spencer, the Apostle Joseph Smith was American, wasn’t he …?’

‘Yes – he was born in New York in 1782 …’

‘That’s not too long ago …’

‘No it’s not too long ago – showing that the Lord’s power is still alive today …’

‘Which Lord are you talking about …?’

‘The Lord God of Israel …’

‘The one worshiped by Judaists?’

‘Yes …’

‘So you believe Judaists are going to heaven?’

‘Yes and no …’

‘What is yes and no?’

‘Yes – because we don’t believe in one heaven, but the Prophet Mormon speaks of different levels of glory. Non-Mormons can ascend to lower levels … ’

‘But the highest level is reserved for Mormons …’

‘Yes, of course …’

‘Does this apply to other Christian denominations as well?’

‘Such as what …?’

‘Catholic. Anglican. Orthodox. Born-Again …’

‘Yes. Since they believe in Jesus Christ but not in the Apostle Smith, they may reach the second level …’

'That's very ironical you know ...'

'Why?'

'Because you see; You folks accuse Christians of being less righteous because they believe in all other prophets and Apostles except Smith; Christians accuse Muslims and Judaists of the same because they reject the divinity of Jesus; Muslims accuse Christians of dis-acknowledging Muhammad ... on account of which each group threatens the others with eternal damnation in hell ...'

'Yeah ... that's an interesting way of looking at it .. but some have more substance than others ..'

'Such as who? Such as the Latter-Day Saints ...?'

'I believe so ...'

‘But Spencer, aren’t you Mormon because you were born to Mormon parents?’

‘Yes. But when I was younger, I never really liked the church and all; and my Dad used to tell me that the Lord would eventually convict me …’

‘And he did convict you?’

‘Yes. As you can see, here I am a thousand miles from home …’

‘Tell me what happens to Muslims after death?’

‘They will be judged by fleshly works …’

‘Which heaven do they go to … ?’

‘If they are good Moslems; the first and lowest level of glory …’

‘And if they are bad?’

‘All bad people go to hell … no matter the religion …’

‘This is in your exclusive scripture – The Book of Mormon ..?’

‘Yes …,’ Spencer pulls out a copy and flips to the relevant passage.
‘You see here, Surumani - the Prophet Mormon talks about different levels of heaven … the celestial, terrestrial and telestial …’

 Spencer also references Epistles of the Christian Bible where the Apostle Paul mentions similar things. I marvel at the Bible’s ambiguity!

Jews read one thing, Mormons another, Pentecostals another – then each slaughters the other.

‘So Spencer – you believe in Joseph Smith’s truth?’

‘With all my heart …’

‘Why is this so …’

‘Because by seeking the Lord; he has revealed himself to me …’

‘You have seen God?’

‘Yes I have …even Elder Ndovu and Brother Thomas have seen him. They can tell you …’

Sure enough, like rehearsed parrots, Ndovu and Thomas jump at the opportunity to prove their devotion to their new-found faith and God.

‘Yes. By seeking God and meditating on his word, he appears to us in dreams and visions …,’ Ndovu explains.

‘Actually brother, for me I used to be a terrible sinner until Jesus appeared to me and changed me. My family used to practice witchcraft but the Lord saved us …,’ Thomas supplements.

I just nod pitifully, and let these two unfortunate African brothers get away with it. In our desperate economy, they need the jobs and would probably be unemployed and hopeless without religion.

I turn back to Spencer.

‘Hmmm – so how does Joseph Smith come to be so special in your faith?’

‘As a 14 year-old boy; he was fed up with the evils of society and besought God to show him the right church. God responded by appearing to him with Jesus in a wood, and telling him that all the present Churches had gone astray …’

‘All the churches …?’

‘Yes, all of them. God then gave Smith the Ten Commandments on golden tablets and instructed him to start the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day saints …’

‘Oh – so smith received a new set of commandments … Like Moses?’

‘Yes …’

‘I’m curious to know of Smith’s other history …’

‘Which one?’

‘You said he was born in 1792?’

‘Yes …’

‘You know, America was still a slave-holding nation then …’

‘What does it mean?’

‘It means Smith lived in a society where African slavery was legal. His family probably held a few slaves too … maybe one of my ancestors was his personal slave …’

‘Man, Surumani, that’s a little irrelevant …’

‘No it isn’t. I’m concerned about why God would reveal himself in a society that held slaves …’

‘You see. Even the ancient Israelites held slaves in the Bible …’

‘So this Christian God condones slavery …’

‘God’s ways are higher than man’s ways, Surumani … Anyway; I know you’re a smart-guy and all. But we can’t share God’s word with you if you don’t let us talk and you keep bringing up all sorts of things …’

'Asking questions doesn't mean I'm trying to be smart ...'

'No man - but you keep interrupting ...'

‘Oh! So you expect me to just listen and not probe …?’

‘The Bible says the Kingdom of the Lord belongs to the meek and humble. Most of your fellow Ugandans we’ve met out there are meek and humble. Even in Ethiopia, many received the word of God readily …’

‘Many Africans are sheepish, ignorant and gullible you mean …’

‘It's hopeless talking to you, you know …’

‘I understand, Spencer …’

‘Anyway Surumani, we have to go now. We’ve got a few more appointments this afternoon ..’

‘Well Spencer, thanks for your time …’ I say as I walk the team to the roadside.

‘Man, Surumani, thanks for your time too. It’s my first time in Africa. I was in Ethiopia for a month, and I’ll be leaving for home next week. It’s been one of my most exciting conversations in this whole time …’

‘Thank you too Spencer for the effort. I think the values you teach people are good, and keep it up. More young Africans need those values, so we can have fewer thieves and killers in these desperate times …’

‘Goodbye brother. But we should keep in touch. My face-book ID is https://www.facebook.com/events/590751887731172/….’

‘Adios man! We’ll be in touch … and safe journey back home ...’

I do hope the brother made it back safely ...

































Comments

  1. How do you even get them having their photos taken after all those "migere" to their rumps?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anne - I get the photos else-where online ... I haven't mustered the courage to ask for a photo yet ... ;-)

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