Tongue Twisters and a Secret Savior

Greetings

After a long and anxious wait, the hot season made its unwelcomed arrival last month. Depending on the source, our temperatures peeked between 110° and 115°, and nights cooled off to around 90° or 95°. But, laundry sure dries quickly when the temperature in your house is 120°, so that’s nice. Also, the heat has diminished the standing water making mosquitoes and roaches scarce. That’s nice, too. There’s always a silver lining somewhere, even if it is tarnished… and sweaty… and hot…

However, the hot season arrived late and appears (maybe) to be leaving early. May is often characterized as our hottest month, but this May began with a few rain showers and cooler temperatures. Niger is one of the hottest countries in the world and also sees some of the lowest amounts of precipitation. Here’s hoping the earnest rains of the rainy season begin falling early this year. I suppose Niger wouldn’t be Niger if snow fell from the sky, the river froze over, I took up ice skating, and Frosty came to dinner.

Several weeks ago, I visited some friends who carve and sell soft stone. Many of these people belong to the Touareg (not the car) ethnic group. They live mostly in the northern part of the country and are known as desert people. Incidentally, they are often mentioned in the news with connections to rebellions. They are passionate people. Here in Niamey, there is a group of Touareg men who carve soap stone. They sell their artwork to tourists looking for souvenirs and to affluent locals looking for gifts. These men work and live on a busy street corner.

A visiting team of Christians bought merchandise from one of these artisans and shared the story of Jesus with him. I heard about his interest in Jesus and began visiting him. On my first visit, I sat under an old, broad, airy tent which doubles as a workplace during the day and a sleeping chamber during the night. Touareg men need little excuse to drink tea, and a new visitor was more than enough reason. A small fire had been kindled and tea had been acquired. Sugar and peanuts had been purchased. The small pot sat on the coals and everyone waited patiently. Tea time approached.

During the wait, a short man burst into the circle and was eager to speak with me. I assumed he wore a large grin, but I couldn’t be certain because  a turban covered the lower part of his face.  He asked me if I speak Tamacheq, the language of the Touareg people. The national language of Niger is French, but we have several local language groups. I told him that my knowledge of Tamacheq is zero. He seemed disappointed but wanted me to repeat Tamacheq tongue twisters. These are phrases that Touaregs themselves have difficulty saying. Finally, he said to me in French, “My friend from America taught me an English phrase.”

Now, sitting there under a tattered tent near a noisy street corner in Niger waiting for tea to brew over an open fire, the last thing I expected to hear was an allusion to a Rudyard Kipling poem. The man looked at me with flashing eyes and said with gusto, “Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair…” I burst into laughter. I couldn’t contain myself. Upon investigation, I discovered that I am quite acquainted with the goofy person who decided to export such a glowing example of verbal Americana. (He is reading this, and I hope he is enjoying it.)

My friendship with several of these men has grown over the past months. In fact, I seem to have stumbled across a pocket of secret Christians. Many of my soapstone friends frequently visit my weekly Bible study. They enter my house and suddenly feel free to express a faith in Christ that apparently has been building for years. My American Christian reflex is to demand a public confession of faith. However, we have recently celebrated Easter, and I am reminded of the two men who buried Jesus. After the crucifixion, the Disciples deserted Jesus. The two men who buried Jesus, Joseph and Nicodemus, are characterized in the Bible as being secret Christians because they were afraid of Jewish political leaders.

I have said before that Christians in Niger pay a very high price for their decision to become Christians. Islam is the chosen religion for most families and is the social canvas for life in Niger. If a Christian family moves to Niger, they are generally accepted. The problem arises when members of Muslim Nigerien families decide to follow a Jesus-only mentality. The cultural Islam here is rarely physically militant (though that does happen), but it is almost always socially militant to individuals who wish to renounce it. Daily food, emotional support, family structure, spouse-finding, and recreational events are all fundamentally bound to Islam. Because of this, many Christians move to Niamey, a more liberal and cosmopolitan city.

Pray for secret Christians in Niger. Also pray for rain. Humor can be a coping mechanism against the heat, but most people in Niger are subsistence farmers whose livelihood depends on the breaking of the heat and the falling of rain.