February 04, 2009
Lovely millet dumpling
"Si nyiiri booyi ley fayande fu, wurtoto nyiiri lobbiri."
This is a Fulani proverb told to me today by Pierre when talking about how long I had to wait before meeting my fiancee Lynne:
It means:
"If the millet dumpling has spent a long time being cooked, it will turn out a lovely millet dumpling."
January 03, 2009
Have you heard the one...?
Happy New Year! Here is a Fulani joke to start the year.
In Britain, we used to have the Irish. More recently, they have been replaced by blondes and by David Beckham. The Fulani have the Agilanaabe - a particular group of Fulani stereotypically known for their simple-mindedness. Here is a Fulani story told to me recently about an Agilanaajo:
- An Agalanaajo got into a bush taxi. Being a devout and respectable man, he took his shoes off before getting into the vehicle.
When the bush taxi arrived at its destination, he opened the door to get out, and exclaimed:
"Hey! Where are my shoes? I left them just outside the door!"
August 16, 2006
One finger cannot milk a cow
My Fulani friend from Burkina Faso, Diallo Boureima, has just been to spend the night during his "Round-Britain Sponsored Bike Ride".
It has been great having Boureima to stay - although a bit confusing, as we kept switching between English, French, and Fulfulde...
Fulani Ministries
Boureima lives in the UK at present with his English wife Susanna, and runs the organisation Fulani Ministries, which aim to share the Good News of Christ among his people, the Fulani, as well as relieve poverty and promote education. He is currently doing the bike ride to raise awareness and money for this ministry, and stopped off with me on his way through Cardiff.
They are doing a lot of good work, including radio ministry - one of the main areas Fulani Ministries is involved in. They also partner with other individuals and organisations working among the Fulani. The work among the Fulani - as in all the work of the kingdom of God - requires different kinds of ministry by different people. One of the things that has encouraged me in the Fulani work in Burkina is how different denominations and ministries seek to work together and respect and encourage each other's ministries, rather than compete.
The Body of Christ
In the body of Christ, we are not all the same, but we do need each other, and the work will not be done by just one kind of ministry or church. Rather than criticising and judging and excluding those who do things differently from us, why can't we seek to respect each other and the necessity and complimentarity of different approaches and ministries...? It will take all of us to do the job.
As the Fulani proverb says:
"Honndu wooturu birataa nagge."
One finger cannot milk a cow.
Tags: burkina faso africa burkina ministry fulani bike sponsored bike ride proverbs
June 05, 2006
Fulani Proverbs - how to become a crocodile
Ko leggal booyii ley ndiyam, laatataako noora.
Even if a log stays ages in the water, it never becomes a crocodile.
(We came across the crocodile above, just basking in the sun in a lake by the side of the road on our way from Boukouma to Dori back in February.)
I have sometimes been told by Fulani - more, I am sure, as a gracious response to my attempts to adapt to life among them, than from serious conviction:
"A laatake pullo!" - "You have become a Fulani!"
To which I reply:
Ko leggal booyii ley ndiyam, laatataako noora.
This always causes general hilarity, as proverbs are such a deep part of pulaaku (traditional Fulani culture), expressing commonly held Fulani wisdom in pithy expressions. Non-Fulani are not expected to be able to know the language and culture well enough to use them. The Fulani say that you can only speak Fulfulde properly if you have drunk it from your mother's milk. To use Fulani proverbs well - which I don't - is really key to becoming the crocodile.
A few proverbs
I was asked recently to put a few Fulani proverbs up on my website, so here are a few culled from my colleague Steve's post from last year:
Proverb: Heba cofel heba ngoofoondi walaa
Translation: You can't have both a chick and a yolk
Meaning: You can't have your cake and eat it too
Bernde feewa teppeere feewa kaa, walaa
You can't have both a cool heart and a cool heel
If you send someone to do something they'll get it wrong and you'll be upset, but if you go yourself you'll get tired
Mi wadii wootere doobal
I have done the 'one' of the doobal-bird (a bird which lays only one egg)
Said after doing something which you will never do again
Duroowo paabi, kam anndi layooru
The shepherd of frogs recognises the limping one (whereas anyone else would think they are all limping!)
The one who has experience has the accompanying knowledge (i.e. ask the expert)
Alla anndinaay gujjo de bangi munaafiki
God didn't tell the thief he was marrying a gossip
If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't have done it. I didn't know that what I was doing was unwise!
Mbuuku bumdo nde wootere yaabetee
A blind man's testicles are only stood on once (i.e. he'll move or cry out to stop it happening again!)
Once bitten twice shy - said regarding unpaid loans, bad experiences etc
Si neddo fiyii howru banndum fuu, nyoofa howru mum
He who hits his neighbour's knee curls up his own legs
If you do something bad to someone, they are likely to avenge it, so watch out!
Si mawdo wi'ii modan jammbere ni nannganaa dum leggal
If a man says he will swallow an axe, hold the handle for him
Don't try and talk someone out of something if they've already made up their mind to do it
For a long list of proverbs, helpfully broken down into categories, go to the Jam Tan website - an excellent site with the best background information on the Fulani that I have seen on the web.
Tags: africa burkina burkina faso fulani proverbs sahel wisdom fulfulde crocodile
May 20, 2006
Building a Fulani hut in Gorom-Gorom
A little while ago, Steve showed you how the Fulani in Djibo build their huts, and had one built for me for my visit. I promised to show you how the Gaoob'e Fulani near Gorom-Gorom , in the north-east of Burkina Faso, build their huts, so here it is (click on any photo for a larger version):
First, make your bed The hut is built around the bed, which is made as a frame of forked uprights with sticks lying across the top, on top of which will be laid woven grass mats. |
Build the frame |
Cover with mats The whole house is easily taken apart and tied onto donkeys or camels if the time comes for literally moving home. |
A new home I should add here that this was not made for my bride, but as a guest room, much to the amusement of my Fulani friends, who kept asking when my wife was arriving. |
Inside a Fulani hut |
Tags: africa burkina burkina faso djibo gorom-gorom housing building fulani hut
April 09, 2006
Name that cow!
So I thought I'd better check up on my cows.
"Yusufi" looks after some of my cows while I am away. He keeps them among his own animals, and his wives sell some of the milk to bring a bit of extra cash into the family budget.
A couple of years ago, I wrote about getting my first cow and the reason for buying cows, and the day my cow got lost. Since then, I have added a few more cows, and some have given birth, and others have died or been sold.
Now, you’re not allowed to ask how many cows I have, as that would be a very un-Fulani thing to do, and likely to provoke a fight. But I have a few.
Fulani names for cows are not dainty names like Daisy or Buttercup. They are much more practical, like “White cow with mottled brown neck”. Except in Fulfulde. Here are the names of some of my cows that you can see in the photos. See if you can guess which one is which (you can click on the photos to see bigger pictures):
Hurooy wunne: “White cow with brown mottled top”
Jamale wunne (offspring of Hurooy wunne): “Mottled cow”
Waage singe: “White cow with red top”
Wurooy singe (offspring of Waage singe): "White cow with patchy red top"
Nayee (offspring of Waage singe): “Red cow”
I think I have the names right, but I'm sure Steve will correct me if I'm wrong.
Tags: africa burkina burkina faso cows travel sahel cattle fulani
December 14, 2005
Gut-ache and grain stores
“Hey, tubaaku, umma! Yuwoonde wari!”
I sat up groggily and looked around me. It was the middle of the night, but the stars had disappeared in a thick blackness. The wind was whipping up unrelenting clouds of dust, announcing what Yero had just called out:
“Hey, white man, get up! The rain’s here!”
I watched blearily as, buffeted by the wind, he opened the tiny 2 ft square hatch to the granary. The granary (you can just see it in the background in the photo) was like a little thatched hut on stilts, about 5ft in diameter. He invited me to clamber in. I blinked, not quite understanding what was going on, but scrambled through, and Yero followed me.
Of course. His small hut had a leaky roof, and there was just enough room for his wife and kids to shelter. But the granary had to have a good roof to protect the precious remainder of last year’s harvest from the weather. So we settled in and tried to make ourselves comfortable in the dark amongst the millet. In the silence, with the hatch open, we felt more than watched the rain suddenly thunder down, attacking and pounding the dry earth. It was a good feeling, knowing that our work in the fields the last few days had not been for nothing. If the rains continued like this for a few more weeks, Yero and his family would have food for another year.
I had come from Gorom-Gorom to spend just two weeks with Yero. I’d been there about a year, and my progress in learning Fulfulde, the language of the Fulani , had reached a plateau. I needed a short time of total immersion to give it another boost. A nearby missionary was teaching Yero the way of Christ, and had suggested this might be a good place to come for a couple of weeks. Yero had become a Christian, but had been forced to leave his village because of his faith. He had set up a hut by his field just outside the village, and sometimes men would stop by when passing. Some came to berate him for abandoning God. Others obviously wanted to stay friends, risking the wrath of the local imam for associating with the apostate Yero. Yero had learned the basics of reading, and we were reading together through Luke - almost the only New Testament portion we had in Fulfulde at that time. The idea was that this would help his reading and his understanding of the way of Jesus, while I was force-fed a daily diet of undistilled Fulfulde.
Yero was captivated by reading the story and teaching of Christ in his own language, and it was thrilling to see him amazed by accounts which I had become almost inured to through over-familiarity. The challenge of Jesus’ words came afresh as I saw again what it must be like to hear them for the first time – the provocative and deliberate challenge to the complacent self-satisfied religion of those who considered themselves God’s chosen. How we need that challenge afresh in our lives…
Yero’s favourite bit was 6:27-42. Whenever someone stopped by, he would read that passage: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” And he would do it. Those who had mocked and rejected him, he would welcome, and give them food and tea.
I enjoyed most of my time there – apart from two days of agonising gut-cramps, which had me doubled up on my mat in the shade under the acacias. Occasionally I would let out a grunt of pain, to the great amusement of Yero and his wife. The Fulani take pride in their "pulaaku", never expressing pain or discomfort, and I heard Yero’s wife laughingly telling her friends that the white man had been “crying with agony!”
It was only two short weeks, camped out with Yero and his family by his field. But I learned a lot in that short time – not only about Fulfulde and Fulani culture, but also about weakness and dependence as part of the shape of our ministry of the gospel. Too often we go with an arrogant, even colonialist attitude, imagining ourselves saviours rather than servants. We go thinking only of what we can give or teach, rather than what we ourselves might need to learn. We have the idea it is our strengths that God will use, rather than our weaknesses. Yet the gospel is cross-shaped – expressed in weakness, service, and suffering. And its treasure is in jars of clay that need to be broken for it to be released. The cross is not just to be announced, it is also to wound our own lives.
A couple of years ago, I went back to visit Yero and his family. He is one of the strongest Christians among several Fulani believers in the area now. They reminded me about my time there all those years ago. They still laugh at me “crying with pain”, and at Yero getting me to climb into the granary in the middle of the night. I know I myself met with God there, in my weakness. I know I learned from Christ through the life and response of a new Muslim convert. I hope and believe Yero was blessed too by our time together. But I know that if he was, it wasn’t because of my brilliant preaching or powerful ministry. I didn't have any of that to give.
All I had to offer was the willingness to have gut ache, be laughed at, and spend a night in a granary.
Tags: burkina faso africa stories burkina fulani bible fulfulde pulaaku ministry mission missionary
December 01, 2005
Jaynebu's Story
The second time we found the bag of human excrement outside our door we knew someone was doing magic against us.
I went to a Moodibo (Muslim religious teacher) for help. He said I had to pay him 500 cfa (£0.50) to help. I paid him. He handed me a pen and instructed me to think hard of the thing that was troubling me and then to spit on the pen, hand it to him and he would reveal the problem to me. I did as he said. He then told me that I was very sick. I said “No, that’s not the problem”. He then said that for him to further help I needed to bring him 24 white kola nuts and 24 red kola nuts. It was the year 2001. In that year kola nuts were very expensive, even a small one was 50 cfa (£0.05) I went home and did the calculations. It would cost 2400 cfa. I could not afford it.
Continue reading "Jaynebu's Story"
November 09, 2005
One faith, one baptism…two wives…? (Part 2)
In part 1, I began to tell the story of Yusuf’s struggle to get baptised, and the hesitation of his pastor because of his denomination’s opposition to baptising polygamists.
Several interesting comments were made, generally agreeing that theologically there is no reason why Yusuf should not be baptised. But the issue we faced was how to do that. For Suley to do it would be to dishonour and disobey his leaders. For me to do it would be to undermine the authority of the local church which I am there to serve in Burkina Faso. And to suggest Yusuf goes elsewhere to get baptised assumes the presence of another denomination, an awareness that Yusuf did not possess of such options, and an individualism that is more western than Biblical or African.
The story continues…
In fact, there was another church in the area, and this denomination took the attitude that men with more than one wife could indeed be baptised, without having to send any of them away. They could not of course take any further wives. But they would have to continue to provide for all their wives. (It is interesting to see the proscription in Exodus 21:10 : “If he marries another woman, he must not deprive the first one of her food, clothing and marital rights...”)
Pastor Suley agreed that the best solution would be to approach pastor Pierre of the other church, and suggest that Yusuf join his church.
I don’t know how many church leaders would be so generous and selfless as to actually suggest that a valuable member of their church should join another church because it would be better for their spiritual growth….?
Pastor Pierre, a Mossi like Suley, was very welcoming. Sitting under the mat shelter in the church yard, a pot of Fulani tea bubbling away in the corner, I translated as he interviewed Yusuf about his faith. Pierre thought he could find someone in the church to translate the Sunday messages into the Fulani language for Yusuf. And he asked me to lead Yusuf through the baptism classes.
Yusuf started coming to the new church, a challenge in itself. The Mossi and Fulani have very different cultures, and a history of conflict and mutual distrust (I wrote about some of these issues here). Often, after a church service, Yusuf and I would sit for ages, discussing why things were done the way they were, and looking at the Bible together. With Pierre and Suley’s agreement, I started a mid-week cell group for the Fulani from both churches, where they could worship and develop an understanding of their faith within Fulani culture. On Thursdays Yusuf would walk into town from his village for the main market, and in the evenings we would meet with the little group. Often Muslim Fulani friends would join us too, as they became interested in the story of Jesus. Yusuf would stay the night with me, and in the morning he would head back to his wives and children. But on Sundays, he would come in again to the Mossi church service, and more discussion afterwards.
The day and night of Yusuf’s baptism was one of the highlights of my life. Read about it here.
Back in his village over the following months, Yusuf worked out how to live out his faith as the only Christian in his village. Little by little he shared what he had found with his family and his neighbours. When I visited him, it was great to hear him telling Fulani parables to his visitors, drawing them in as he asked them questions about the meaning, and leading them to the truths of the gospel from within their own culture. I resisted teaching him the “4 Spiritual Laws” approach to evangelism, as I saw the good news being told among the Fulani more effectively than I would ever be able to.
And then one market day several months later, he and his wives and children all came to town and stayed the night with us. Gently Yusuf told us that he thought his wives were interested in following Christ, and would we interview them please? Hawa clearly had more understanding of the message of Christ than Salimata, but they had both seen the change in Yusuf’s life, and that the way of Jesus was good. They were nervous about the consequences, but both decided they wanted to follow the way their husband had chosen. That day Hawa and Salimata both prayed to give their lives to follow Christ, and to receive life in his name.
Another new beginning, and the story continues. Please pray for Yusuf, Hawa, and Salimata as they seek to live for Christ as ambassadors for the kingdom of God among their neighbours and community. Officially, as a man with more than one wife, Yusuf can never be a church elder. But in practice, he is the most mature believer in a large area, and effectively the founder of the church in his village. In the meantime we look for the day when both his wives also choose to take the step of following Christ through the waters of baptism.
Tags: burkina faso africa polygamy burkina fulani church baptism mission
October 20, 2005
One faith, one baptism.... two wives...? (Part 1)
The pastor wouldn't baptise Yusuf. What should I do now?
To be fair, pastor Suley wanted to baptise Yusuf, but his denomination in Burkina Faso wouldn't baptise polygamists. They insisted that only the first wife was truly the man's wife, and that he should get rid of any subsequent ones.
No-one questioned the reality of Yusuf's faith. He used to be a religious teacher in Islam, and could actually read and understand the Quran in Arabic. He had seen how highly the Quran spoke of Isa al-Masih, ibn Mariyama - Jesus the Messiah, son of Mary, and had discussed with teachers of the "Jesus way" over a period of time. Finally, he came to pray and receive forgiveness in the name of this same Jesus the first Fulani Christian in his village.
I say finally, but that was the start of a long period of discipleship. He testified that straight away he saw changes in his life - he no longer got angry the way he used to, and his character changed as he became a calmer man. But he also had a lifetime's worldview, teaching, and practices to sift through, to see what from his previous life he should retain, and what should change. Since there was no church in his village, could he continue to pray at the mosque, but in the name of Jesus? Could he fast with everyone else during the month of Ramadan? And what about Tabaski, when the Muslims killed sheep in memory of Abraham offering up his son, who was saved by the sheep provided by God? Could he kill a sheep too, in thanks for that event's prophetic fulfilment in Christ's death? Islam and the Quran, he said, had helped him develop a love of God, and had led him towards Christ - what should he think of that now?
So many questions.
He was unfazed by being the only follower of Jesus in his village. He was the head of his household, and a hard worker, whose fields generally gave a good harvest, so he was not dependant on anyone. He read the Bible on his own, switching between Fulfulde and Arabic to check more accurately the meaning. Not everyone understood why he had decided to follow this way, and there were some who ridiculed him. But he was patient and calm, and answered when people asked him. And little by little he tried to explain the Jesus way to his two wives.
Funnily enough, he hadn't even intended to take two wives. He loved his first wife, Hawa, and they had moved some years before to another village to be near a charismatic Islamic teacher who had started a new sect. Yusuf had got disillusioned and had returned home, but Hawa had decided to stay. So, when Yusuf arrived back home, he took another wife, Salimata. Then Hawa came back too. He loved them both, and did his best to treat them both the same, even buying them the same sets of clothes.
When he could, he would walk into the nearest town on Sunday to go to church. Whenever he came, pastor Suley would try and find someone to translate everything into Fulfulde for him. And whenever he could, Suley would get his 50cc moped and head out across the fields and dunes to visit Yusuf. They had no language in common, but they developed a friendship. As Yusuf grew in faith and read his Bible, he started to ask about getting baptised. That's when Suley came to see me to explain that his leaders wouldn't allow him to baptise Yusuf unless he got rid of Salimata. What should we do?
Interestingly, the Bible doesn't actually make such a big deal of polygamy. Yes, it is clear that "one man, one wife" is God's plan for marriage from the beginning, and is the reflection of the relationship between Christ and his one bride, the church. This is the solid foundation for society, and in fact, most polygamous marriages I know have endless problems of arguments, favouritism, and manipulation.
And so, a qualification of eldership is that they have only one wife, unpholding and modelling this good basis of society. And yet, the very fact that that is a qualification for eldership indicates that there must have been other Christians in the 1st century church with more than one wife. They are nowhere told to get rid of any of their wives - they are simply disqualified from eldership. On the other hand, divorce is clearly frowned upon, and to get rid of a wife would have been to bring shame upon her, and maybe to leave her destitute.
Pastor Suley agreed with me that it wouldn't be right to tell Yusuf to send Salimata away. But he also didn't feel it was right to go against his leaders by baptising Yusuf. What then should he do...?
To be continued....
Tags: burkina faso africa polygamy burkina fulani church baptism mission
October 03, 2005
Prepare for a long walk
"By one o’clock, the sun is indeed hammering our heads, and the landscape glares like an overexposed photograph. My water bottle is empty. The others, incredibly, have just one small water bottle between them.
“Diallo, is there a pump ahead?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Not far,” says Diallo. When a Fulani man says “not far”, prepare for a long walk."
(From Steve's latest article published inthe Sunday Times.)
I was once travelling to a Fulani village on my motorbike. I'd only recently bought the bike, and it was my first time on such a sandy route. I now love biking through such terrain and over the sand dunes, but that first time I was very nervous. I had also rashly picked up a hitch-hiker on the way. The bike was sliding all over the place in the sand, and I could feel my travelling companion was getting tense, wondering what he had let himself in for. I was hoping I was almost there, so I stopped on the way to ask a Fulani herder if it was far. Predictable response: "It's not far now."
Trying to get more precise information, I tentatively asked if he knew how many kilometres - expecting that a Fulani "duroowo" would not know the measures. I was surprised
"It's only four kilometres," he replied with confidence.
With renewed courage I pressed on for four more kilometres. And four more. And four more... After 20 km of nervous sliding, we finally arrived at our destination, and I deposited my hitch-hiker. He seemed relieved that he had actually arrived in one piece, without being thrown in the sand by the "tubaaku", who clearly had no idea how to ride a motorbike.
Twenty kilometres... our herder friend's estimate had actually been one-fifth of the real distance. That seems to be a fair estimate of the Fulani perception of distance. If a Fulani tells you how far something is, multiply it by 5.
Now, of course, that perception is largely to do with them being used to walking long distances behind their cattle, as Steve discovered. One Fulani Christian I know used to walk 40km each way, every weekend, just to get to church. (Would you...?) But their mathematics of the distance is interesting. My own theory about that has to do with the way they count money...
The smallest coin in Burkina Faso is the 5cfa coin, which is known in Fulfulde as "mbuudu wooturu" or "one coin". From the days before the Fulani started to learn to read, they could not decipher the numbers on the coin, so money was calculated in mulitples of the "mbuudu wooturu". Thus, 50cfa is "sappo" - "ten". And so on. Transfer that to distance, and Amadu is your uncle.
So, when you come to Burkina, be prepared. That journey, or that nice Fulani blanket you want to buy, may be five times more than you think it is going to be!
Tags: burkina faso africa travel burkina fulani
April 05, 2005
Jesus in the mosque
"Bismillah!" The imam stepped back to welcome me into the mosque.
I had gone on one of my 'walkabouts'. On these occasions, I set off to wander around town with no particular plan, just to see whom I might meet, and to share the story of Jesus with those who want to listen.
Although I was by now a familiar sight to locals, visitors from outside villages were often surprised to see a tubaaku, a white man, dressed in the long Muslim robe topped by the ubiquitous turban, ambling round the dusty streets of this small Sahelian town. At times like this, I would often get called into people's homes. Sometimes it would be people who had seen me around or heard me preaching at the market, but who had been too timid to come and talk to me in front of the crowds. Sometimes it would be people with sick children, asking for prayer. Sometimes it would just be the hospitable invitation to an outsider or a friend.
I had been passing the mosque, and the imam was standing in the doorway.
"A salaam aleykum!" I called out in greeting.
"Wa-aleykum a salaam!" he replied. I approached, we shook hands, and we went through the normal greeting sequence, asking after each other's health and family.
"Toy njaata?" (Where are you going?) he asked.
"I'm just off to talk with people about the story of ennabi Iisaa Almasiihu." Fulani Muslims know of ennabi Iisaa Almasiihu, the prophet Jesus Christ, and his Injil (gospel) from the Quran, and hold him in high esteem.
The imam welcomed me into the mosque. I kicked off my sandals at the door, and went in.
Continue reading "Jesus in the mosque"
February 03, 2005
A witness for Christ
"Bring the child here," said Ali, and the boy's mother led him submissively to sit in the dust before us. He had been suffering with bad headaches for some time, and was unable to sleep. She knew Ali was a man who knew the Quran, and had asked Ali if he could heal the boy.
I first met Ali a few weeks before. He called to me as I was passing by his sewing machine at the market, and asked me to come and see him. When I visited him, he explained the dream he'd had of a shining white figure, holding out his arms to him. We read the description of Jesus at the start of the book of Revelation, and Ali recognised the man from his dream. Over the following weeks we had begun reading the Bible together. Ali was keen to know more about this Jesus, of whom the Quran spoke so highly, and who had now appeared to him personally. But he was a respected older Muslim in the tight community of this small Fulani town in West Africa, and had not yet decided what he was going to do about it.
He reached out his hand and gently placed his thumb and one finger on the boy's forehead. He began quietly reciting verses in Arabic, pausing occasionally to spit lightly on the boy's head. When he had finished, he sat back: "Bismillah!" he said, indicating that I too should pray. So I too laid my hand on the boy's head, and prayed in Fulfulde for healing in the name of Jesus. When I had finished, the boy got up and went back to his mother, and Ali and I continued our discussion.
The next day, Ali told me the boy was healed.
Ali and I continued to meet, and finally he confessed his faith in Christ. But Ali was reluctant to identify himself publicly as a Christian. He knew the cost would be high, that people would not understand, and he would lose the friendships and influence he had. So he continued to read the Bible, to pray in the name of Jesus, and to go to the mosque. But now, when his Muslim neighbours came to him to ask him for religious or spiritual advice, he would start in the Quran, and lead on to the Injil - the Gospel - one of the holy books of Islam.
I have no doubt of the genuineness of Ali's faith in Christ. I have no doubt too, that if he publicly confessed Christ, he would suffer as a result. If he were able to stand, and integrate into the Mossi church there, I am sure he would grow firmer in his faith. But that presents its own challenges - and he would also lose his opportunities to share Christ among his neighbours. I have laid it all out before him. He knows the choices and the consequences, and has made his decision - for now - about how to work it out.
Please pray for my friend Ali, that God will continue to lead and strengthen him. His story raises many questions. But above all, I'd like us to see that Christ is continuing to reach out in love to the many Muslims who love God. And our response should be one of love, friendship, and encouragement as they seek Him.
Tags: burkina faso africa emerging church burkina church fulani mission church and culture
December 01, 2004
Cowboys and engines
Layya appeared early in the morning, carrying his stick and looking worried.
“Eere oole is still missing”
Eere oole is the first cow I bought at Gorom market. She was not much more than a bag of bones at the time, and very bad tempered too. She was a real “bush” cow, not used to being tied up at home. But Layya had assured me that in spite of her gauntness, she was essentially in good health, just hungry. And that’s the way it turned out. As we fed her up, she began to look better, though we still had to be wary of her long horns when trying to milk her.
It was a good move buying a cow. Suddenly I shot up in Fulani estimation. Now my friends would greet me as usual: “How are you? How is your health? How is your family?” And then they would add: “And how is Eere oole?”
