On the Friday evening Keith and I sat up with Hama and an old man who was visiting from nearby. It had all the elements of a classic Fulani evening - millet, milk, moonlight, mosquitos - you know the kind of thing. Somehow we ended up talking about whales, and since Hama and his friend were so intrigued by this I thought I would tell them the story of Jonah. In my best fulfulde I told them about God calling Jonah, and him running away to sea, and the storm, and the big fish and his song in the fish's belly. When I arrived at the repentance of Ninevah and all the cows putting on sackcloth I got hopelessly confused and brought it to a swift conclusion. There was a pause and then Hama's guest thanked me for the story. He added gently that no one had understood a word I'd said. We all fell about laughing, and then Keith took a deep breath and launched into the story of Jonah. Ho hum.

When bedtime (mat-time?) came, there was the usual flurry of blessings. The Fulani have lots of benedictions, some of them very ingenious - it's a big part of social interaction here. Keith shook the old man's hand and said "Alla hiin'en a sarraaji Seydani" which means "May God save us from Satan's traps." For the second time that evening the man looked extremely puzzled. Turns out that the word for traps is in fact sariiji; Keith had declared gravely "May God save us from Satan's trousers."

The next morning was quite interesting. Hama said he'd been thinking about Jonah, and wanted us to pray with him. He had been furious with one of his wives the previous evening for having been so late preparing the millet. Afterwards he had been thinking about Jonah's anger and resentment, contrasted with the grace and compassion of God, "slow to anger and abounding in love" (Jonah 4:2). He had gone to his wife in the morning and asked for forgiveness. Funny isn't it, how a bizarre little story written at least three millennia ago, still has the power to move people to repentance. We had a prayer time together that morning, Hama and both of his wives were there. As they see the changes taking place in their husband, may they come to know the God of grace for themselves.

The rest of the day was good. Spent most of it with four herders my age - strangely, three of them were called Sambo, which is also my Fulani name. As ever, communication was a bit of a problem, but the fact of having the same name was a unifying factor in itself. They say they will visit me when they next come in to Gorom for market day.

The way back from Hama's dune was quite eventful. There had been a heavy rain in the night, which was wonderful - after a good start to the rainy season there had been very little rain indeed, and it was much needed. Anyway, there were two floodplains which we had to cross, at times chest-high. Even without our shoes, the suction of the mud at the bottom was quite something. Finally arrived in Gorom-Gorom, soaked to the skin, muddy, and with pockets full of sludge. Brought some meaning to the blessing "God save us from Satan's trousers."

Please pray for Hama and his wives, and for the various Sambos in his area. Thank God for the recent rain and ask that he would send more. Pray also for us, that God would equip us to be better communicators of his love and blessing.

Alla hiin'en a sarriiji Seydani.

Love to you and your families.

Steve

ps email me :)