Manyatta Singing!

Every Monday and Wednesday night, Leah and I are picked up by friends from church to go to a church member's mindaase (the traditional round Gabra hut, belonging to the woman) for devotions, which consist of singing, a short recorded message, and, on especially happy nights, a cup of chai. Yesterday night's manyatta singing was especially wonderful. ("Manyatta" is Kiswahili for "group of homes".) 

Ado, her older brother Dub (pronounced Doob), and Isako Abudo came to take us. (Isako Abudo, aka tall, skinny Isako is not to be confused with Isako Boru, who is older and larger, or with Abudo; all three, and Dub as well, work at the garage on the mission compound and are very involved in the church. It took me a while to get them straight!) The moon had not yet made an appearance, and so the light of the stars was particularly bright. Honestly, I find that using flashlights, or torches, as everyone calls them here, is almost more disorienting than going without, because when you're trapped in a bubble of light, your eyes have no chance to adjust, and everything outside of that bubble seems menacing. On the other hand, there are numerous thorns and occasional pieces of bone lying everywhere - so I suppose a light is useful for avoiding those!

Last night, we made our way to Olla Duke, to the home of Simpirre, who it turns out is our friend Doke's sister! The town of Kalacha is divided into four olla, called Olla Duke (meaning dust, or sand), Olla Chille (meaning charcoal), Lala Salama ("peaceful sleep" in Kiswahili... maybe a joke, since this is the part of town in which the mosque with its early morning prayer calls is located!), and Olla Ch'ira. Traditionally, olla are mobile villages of about 10-15 families usually linked by kinship, but in a town such as Kalacha, not many people are as nomadic as the Gabra used to all be, preferring to stay settled near a reliable water source. 

There were nine of us in total: Simpirre, two children, Ado, Leah, myself, Dub, Isako Abudo, and Abudo, all clustered in a small circle around the west-facing mindaase entrance. After waiting a while and catching up with one another, we started singing, the men whispering back and forth to decide what song to start off with. My grin grew SO wide as they began with "Tisite Arani Nagete", which Ado had taught us just last week. It was so exciting to be able to join in and sing along, since devotions, singing included, are always carried out entirely in Gabra, occasionally accompanied by a brief, whispered English explanation of the passage read or a song's theme. I was happy enough being able to sing along for just one song, but then the two that followed were none other than the two other songs Ado had just taught me! Coincidence? I think not. No one said anything, but Ado and Dub were both smiling. To top it off, post-prayer and the message, one of the last two songs was "Gana Gana", the fourth and final song in my Gabra worship repertoire. I heard Dub whisper the words to Abudo, who started singing softly as if to test the waters, and then laughed when I joined right in. 

As if it couldn't get any better, when we'd finished, Simpirre emerged from the mindaase with a full thermos of chai, and cups for everyone! Though dark, I definitely heard smiles in everyone's voices as we wished each other "nagayan bula" (goodnight) before heading home. 

I think everyone was extra excited about singing last night, because on Friday, three female missionaries arrived to teach a week-long ethnomusicology conference for the local church, in which they are helping guide participants through the process of writing their own Biblically-based worship songs in the Gabra language and style! I've attended one session so far, and hope to go to more :)

So there you have a taste of manyatta singing! Despite the language barrier, it is so renewing and restful to sit out under the stars in the wind, listening to the sounds of Kalacha at night: mostly goats, sheep, passing lorries, dog fights, the occasional hyena, and near ceaseless wind - the rhythm and quality are so similar to the crashing of waves, it's uncanny, and beautiful. 

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PS: Another reason manyatta singing was so rejuvenating yesterday was because SCHOOL IS BACK IN SESSION! The strike ended last week, and so yesterday was my first day back teaching. Tiring, but very rewarding. The students are wonderful. I'll be sure to post another blog soon filling you in on what I did during the unexpected one month "holiday"!

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Lyrics and Translation to:

"Tisite Aran Nagete"*

Chorus: 

Tisite aran nagete

Borile siuma bariti

Atin Waaqi kiya Waaqa

Waaqayon Waaqa duriti

x 2

V1: 

Sopranos: Atin Waaqa kiya Waaqa

All: Waaqayon Waaqa duriti

V2:

Sopranos: Atin gofta kiya gofta

All: Goftayon gofta duriti

----- Translation -----

Chorus:

You have cared for me up to today

And You are the One who will make tomorrow come

You are my God

God of the past, present, and future

V1:

You are my God

God of the past, present, and future

V2:

"Gofta" means someone who is very strong and powerful - Ado couldn't think of a direct translation

You are my "gofta"

"Gofta" of the past, present, and future

*Original Gabra spelling slightly changed - I omitted silent letters so that what you hear in your head while you read it will be somewhat closer to the actual Gabra words!

God's Newborn

Thank you to those of you who have prayed - baby Adano, or Daniel, passed away today, after being very sick for the past few days, and went to be with Jesus. The events surrounding his last few days of life have been extremely emotionally strenuous. I won't write everything here, but if you would like to know more of the story, please send me a personal email and I will be happy to share. Essentially, based on her actions, his mother didn't really want him. When she let Susanne take him on Sunday, he was seriously malnourished, and kept dropping weight - today, he weighed only 1 kg, but what a precious, precious boy. Rachel and Susanne called him "our little missionary". I'll always remember his smell, his soft, soft hair and tiny everything. Except for his eyes and feet; they were both pretty big :) He was in a lot of pain for the past day and a half judging by his cries and how he couldn't seem to keep anything we fed him down, but for the last hour or two, held close to Rachel's chest, he was at peace.

It is so, so hard to see him go, but we know and believe that God gave him his short life for a purpose, and I'm so thankful to have met, held, cried, sang, and prayed over him.

Miriam, the Andersens' 7-year-old daughter, said it so perfectly, as only a child can: God has a newborn baby today.

Adan at 18 days old.
Adan Yeso - July 5-24, 2013, and on now forever!!

Praise and PRAYER

- Revised at 8pm, Eastern Africa Time -

I'll leave below what I wrote earlier in the afternoon, but since then, things have changed. Adano is not doing well at all, and Susanne said that she thinks it will be a miracle if he lives through the night. For the past week and a bit, Sade has not been following Susanne's instructions very well, be it because of the language barrier or because of a lack of motivation - I don't know. One day things seem to be going better, and the next, not. Adano has lost half a kilo of weight, and Susanne and Rachel must decide how to respond. I believe they will talk with Sade about whether she wants to keep the baby, or give him up for adoption. Rachel has specifically asked for prayer for wisdom. Obviously, it is ideal that Adano stay with his mother, but it is hard at this point to tell whether or not she'll be able to care for him. I'm told that Sade's mother wants her daughter to learn to care for and keep her baby, but Sade seems less interested... If he makes it through the night, Adano will have to be taken to a good hospital soon to assess his condition, which will involve extra costs and need for a vehicle, plus travel over very rough terrain (i.e., your entire body is jarred as you are tossed up and down, going over rocky two-tracks... not the best for a 1.3 kg baby!)

Please ask God to keep Adano alive, and that He would give Rachel and Susanne the following:

- supernatural wisdom 

- discernment

- grace

- strength

- patience

- an ability to communicate well and in love.

Please pray that Sade and her mother would also have wisdom and understanding, and that God's love would be revealed to them in this.

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Since I last wrote to you almost two weeks ago about Adano and his mother, who we will call Sade, there is much to be thankful for. Her parents arrived in Kalacha about a week and a half ago, and were incredibly kind, caring for their daughter and new grandson well. HUGE praise for that! A few days after arriving, her father returned to Marsabit to take care of the rest of the family, while her mother stayed behind. The three of them, Sade, Adano, and Sade's mother, have been here since then, staying at the guest house on the compound. It has been a joy to see how much more open and happy Sade has become; her mother is also very friendly, and it's been fun to help take care of them with Leah in small ways, while also practicing some Gabra with Sade's mother, who hardly speaks any English. Before they can return home, however, Adano's health must significantly improve: he has lost more weight than would normally be expected of a newborn, and is having some trouble feeding. They cannot travel to Marsabit until he begins to consistently gain weight. 

Please pray for the following, that:

- Sade would be able to understand and follow Susanne's care instructions well

- Adano would grow stronger

- God would give Sade hope about the future, and courage for when she eventually leaves a rather protective, safe, and loving bubble here, surrounded by family, missionaries, and visitors, for life back in her family's village.

I am so thankful for the fact that Sade showed up at the dispensary when she did, and that she came to Susanne, rather than the government health clinic, where I've been told it would be no surprise if they had not bothered to resuscitate Adano when he was born, given the Gabra view of children born out of marriage. Again, huge praise for the fact that her family has been so loving and accepting. Thank you all for your prayers!

Friday's Child

At 8:15 am, July 5, 2013, he came into the world, weighing a mere 1.8 kg (just under 4 lbs). He wasn't breathing, but Rachel (Andersen) and Susanna (the nurse) revived him. His mother, a sixteen-year-old student at the Polytechnic School, came to Susanna with "period pains", keeping his existence a secret until the very last. 

Among the Gabra, having a child out of wedlock means being utterly cut off from society. If your baby's father is an older, more established man, he may perhaps redeem you through marriage, likely as a second wife, but if the father is young, marriage will do nothing to help your case - it seems many girls choose not to even identify the father. I was told that there is a sacrifice that can be made, if a new mother's family is willing to accept and take her back in despite everything: A pregnant sheep would be killed, and its entrails poured over the mother to redeem her - she would then return to her family, taking her place among them as if a widow. As it is extremely unusual for a widow to ever re-marry, this means all one's hopes of a "normal" Gabra future could be permanently dashed at a very young age.

 

After having kept her pregnancy a secret for seven months (the baby was premature), this new mother is now facing the reality of potentially being completely ostracised by her family and friends. She isn't from Kalacha, but has been studying here at the technical school, so we will see how her family reacts within the next few days - whether they will come to take her, or if she will be left alone. 

I know that in North America, similar situations can be found all around, but at the very least, there are pregnancy resource centres, support networks - systems set up to catch those whose families let them fall. Here, there is nothing if you don't have family or friends who are willing to break with culture and take you in - the missionaries are the support system.

I visited the mother and the newborn baby yesterday afternoon to afford Susanna a rest (the amount of work she does is beyond comprehension) - I was supposed to relieve Rachel of the same duty (she too had been working all day to take care of her whole family and help Susanna with the newborn baby); the mother wasn't exactly emotionally stable, so I was just going to keep her company. I held the tiny, tiny little boy, and he brought tears to my eyes - my heart melted completely. He was so small and perfect and had to be held near - even in the desert heat, there is danger of him catching cold. I couldn't stop smiling. He is beautiful. It broke, and breaks, my heart to know how unwanted he is, and breaks me again to think of the mother and what she will do. She looked so, so young. ... Because she is, I suppose. 

Just as Rachel was about to leave, after leaving her alone all day, the mother finally received visitors. Some older women came in first - it was incredibly sad to see the lack of compassion on their faces; I didn't understand as they spoke in Gabra, but by Rachel's estimation, they were chewing her out for having had premarital sex/a baby. The reality is, I suppose, that it couldn't be avoided forever.... But the mother's younger sister came in next with friends, and it seemed that they were more loving. They went out again to a duka to bring her back a gift, and some of the women who visited later also brought a gift. It was encouraging to see some who were more caring. When it came down to it, however, no one was willing to take her in for the night, so for now she stays with Susanna. Yesterday, they reached her mother, and today her family has come to stay for a few days - we'll see what happens next. 

News seemed to spread around town quickly. I was at the nomadic girls' school earlier in the day to visit some teachers, and when I said hi to some of the standard eight students, they asked many questions about the mother and child, though I had not much information to give. I told them what I knew, having not yet visited the mother, and made a comment about her likely being lonely, and how I hoped that her family would accept her. "Tsk tsk, nooo!" "No no, of course not!" - These were the responses from the girls, young teens mostly, to that hope of acceptance! I had a chance to respond and attempt to explain the importance of love and support even when someone has done something that goes against culture, and reminded them that we do not even know her story and should not be so quick to judge. I hope they actually listened and that this opens up opportunity for further discussion. From what I've witnessed and been told, the Gabra are not a people quick to forgive. Rachel made what I thought was a very profound comment as we stood together watching the older Gabra women speaking to the mother in the clinic - "There isn't room in Christianity for those who aren't willing to forgive." It's almost ironic, when we think of all the times people, even, and at times especially, "Christians", rail on others for their mistakes, calling attention to their sin at every chance, throwing love to the side in an effort to punish someone for breaking the rules. It completely misses the point: grace.

The baby has now been given a name; it's a derivative of the Gabra word for "Friday" (there are male and female names for every day of the week): Adano. Please think of and pray for Adano and his mother tonight, that they would feel how valued and loved they are despite the shame being heaped on the young mother, and that grace and forgiveness would be shown, by her family especially.