Easter Sunday, March
27, 2016 With a church being constructed in Napetet and a latrine being built
in the village of Nakwamekwi each day is full from early morning to the setting
of the sun. I didn’t think I’d be able to travel into the interior parts of
Turkana Land because of all that needed to be done. We have always taken relief food to those in the
bush and to not go weighed heavily on me.
They are in such need of food and encouragement. Word reached them that I was here and they
sent a message back to me that they were excited and waiting for me to come. It
was settled I would travel to the interior parts of Turkana Land!
We filled the truck with sacks
of beans and maize and then we pushed in some more. We were traveling African style; full to the top inside and out.
We had three pastors traveling with us and the Chief. Every time we travel to the interior he has
made himself available to go with us. As
he says “I am the government here, no one will bother us.” We had plenty of water, a full tank, a spare
and good tires! We were set to go.
We head toward the wide open land that takes us straight
toward the mountain ranges of Uganda.
The bright blue sky covered us while the sun burnt the earth below. The riverbeds are dry, the thorn bushes are bare and the ground
shows no sign of life. There were a few goats along the way and a camel
was spotted in a small group of trees but nomadic life has taken the herdsmen
and their animals in search of food.
Near the riverbeds there are spots of green but very little
and not enough to keep the herds fed.
The rains have vanished with the desert wind and left bone dry riverbeds
as evidence of a once moving water. Mamas without the thought of distance will
walk with empty water jugs on their heads to the riverbed. They will dig holes in
the dry sand in hopes that they will find water to help them make it through
another day.
We travel across flat land and down into the bone dry river
beds and safely exit on the other side. The soft sand of the desert pulls us in
but the 4 wheel drive quickly muscles us up and onward. Sitting on a mound of dry earth are some huts
that blend in with the earth. We have
arrived and are quickly greeted by women decorated in beads from their collar
bone to their chin. The beads shine from
the goat fat that has been rubbed in and melted from the heat of the land. The beads also speak of the bride price that a
man must pay if he wants her as his wife.
A neck highly decorated will mean a higher price or goats and camels in greater number. The colors
of cloth that wrap their body are striking and decorate the drab dry land
around us. The kangas or shukas are tied over one shoulder and worn by many of the women.
Some of the other women are in their dark and heavy animal skins something that
has been a tradition for generations.
The drums are beating and there is a song of praise coming
from the little church in the middle of the desert. The women all sit together on one side while
the men stay together on the other. This
is customary and pretty much a way of life in Turkana. Men are not seen mingling, sitting or even
eating with the women.
Mama Anna, the eldest and much respected woman, stands to
her feet to welcome me. The cry of her heart is; The Macedonian Call, “Come and
help us.”
Another mama who doesn’t speak English points to her wrist. There among the other bracelets that decorated her arm was a very worn and dull salvation bracelet that I had given her years back. This woman had never forgotten the gift and had treasured it all these years.
It was hot inside and outside, there was no way to escape
the heat of the day. It didn’t matter
that it was 105 they still worshiped in song and dance. Men and women of all ages will jump straight
up and down as a way of worshiping God. Even Anna didn’t hesitate to kick up
some dust! Then there is the shoulder
that drops towards you and in return you drop your opposite shoulder toward
them. It is an expression of love spoken
in the Turkana way.
With their fingers held high they sang after me; “This
little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.” Even though their finger represented a lit candle
the smiles on their faces could light up a dark room! It was a sound of a distant land as they sang
in their mother tongue and it was glorious. I do believe there is a new song in
the remote parts of Turkana Land that will be taught to their children for
years to come.
I am honored and welcomed to the home of one of the mamas. Her humble abode offers us relief from the mid-day sun.
The sacks of maize and beans are positioned under the almost
leafless tree that is to give us shade. The women stood before us with their
cooking pans, used plastic bags, buckets or they made a holding place for their
portion out of the corner of the beautiful cloth that wrapped their body. We made sure the women all got their allotted
amount first as they are the ones that will feed the children. They left happy and encouraged. It was like food
was falling from heaven and they knew God had remembered them.
A young mama stood nearby with a baby cradled
in here arms. The baby was hidden from
the cloth that covered her and swung up over mama’s shoulder. The mama, the baby and the scene around me was
not unusual. We had given out relief food many times and these lines were no
different than in times past. That is until the wind blew the cloth that
covered the baby and I saw little Christine for the very first time. This precious little child had a tumor that
covered a good portion of her face. As
we prayed for this child in great need I could sense that the prayers were not
welcomed.
The bride price had been paid in full and the camels and
goats had been handed over to the bride’s parents. The wedding invitation had
been given and as I arrived the three days of celebration were well underway. In the remote areas of Turkana a great number
of people gathered to dance and celebrate.
A hundred or more men sat together in an area out of the sun but up on
the knoll a cloud of dust could be seen as they danced in circle form. The men with bells strapped around their
ankles and ostrich feathers in the beaded head band formed the outside circle
while young girls entered inside the circle and faced them. The dancing began,
the dust rose high above them, and their half-clad bodies swallowed up the red
ochre painted on their upper torso.
Their beads were bright and colorful and
covered the neck completely. They had beads that flowed like hair from their
heads and a wide beaded belt wrapped tightly around their waist. They had
adorned themselves in every way possible. Their beads were clean and shining from the
recent goat fat polish and the excess that melts serves as a skin softener.
Off to the side there is a fence made out of thorn bushes.
It is a circular fence with an open gate. This area is reserved for the groom,
the bride's father and special male guests. The men all sit in a circle on their
one legged wooden stool, known as ekicholong. In the middle of
the circle sits a large kettle of blood.
A bull has been killed and each man will drink the ceremonial blood of
the bull.
After they had quenched their thirst with the
blood they began to dance around me.
Together they sang the same song as their sticks bounced up and down off
the ground. Their ostrich feathers swayed in the air as their bodies jumped
toward the sky and back down.
Each round
of song brought their circle closer to me and there was no easy way of escape. I was
wearing my wedding ring but the Turkana wedding symbol is a copper or metal
ring around the neck which I did not have.
With a little nervous laughter I smiled back but at the same time I
scanned the crowd to see if I could catch the Chief’s eye!
The place was alive with joyous celebration
when out of nowhere came an angry man with a club in his hands. He held the club high and his body went into
a fighting position as he tried to agitate those near him into battle. It was a
scene that could have escalated into a blood bath but with the Chief’s orders
he was quickly dealt with and taken away.
As we drove away the ceremonial dancing and
song continued. It would go on for hours to come. It had been a full day, and I left with great memories and gifts of honor that I will cherish for a long time.
Psalm
96:1 Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth.
