South and South Central Africa / A record of fifteen years' missionary labors among primitive peoples

by Hannah Frances Davidson

We are especially grieved today, however, because of the wedding which is progressing, for we knew nothing about it until we were on the journey. The bride is a Christian girl and has had a good experience, although she is not yet baptized. She is only about fifteen years old, or perhaps a little older, and has been given to an unsaved boy, who, however, has no other wife. We inquired of one of the boys if she wished to marry him. He looked at us in sort of a pitying manner, as if to say, "You should know better than to ask such a question," and replied, "They did not ask her." After the service we go up to the hut of the bride, and find her not feigning to cry, as some of the brides do, but in reality weeping most bitterly. At the sight of us her sobs break forth afresh. We try to comfort her, but what can or what dare we say? We speak to the mother, who also has confessed Christ, but she is the first wife in a line of five. She frankly acknowledges that she preferred to give her daughter to a Christian, but was overruled. The brothers too, who are Christians, could do nothing, the older relatives having arranged the affair. Her father is chief of the village and an influential man. He has always been a friend of the mission, but he feels that he can manage his own affairs best, and his children are taught implicit obedience. We know that remonstrance is useless, and from his conversation it is evident that he thinks he has provided wisely for his child, because the groom is son of the chief at Kabanzi, where one of our schools is located, and the young fellow had even attended school for a few days. The affair might be more serious, and we hope and pray that in time both may be Christians.

The next school is four miles farther on this road, at Impongo, and the teacher there is Singuzu, whose home is at Mianda. He is not so far advanced in learning, so he recites to Charlie. He is, however, a conscientious and Spirit-filled Christian. He accompanies us to his place of teaching. This is a new school, has been in session only about three months, and is held out in the open air in the shade of a tree; but they are gathering poles to build a hut. The people had asked several times for a school, and we finally concluded to give them one. The teacher is doing his work faithfully, and progress is being made by the pupils in learning to read; but there are some things in connection with this school which are making the work very unsatisfactory, and both the teacher and ourselves think best to discontinue it. After the recitations are finished a service is held with them and they seem interested. When the late dinner is over it is decided to go about six miles west, to Kabanzi, the next school.

By this time it is somewhat late in the day, but it is hoped that our destination may be reached before dark. Singuzu, who is a better driver than the one accompanying us, is asked to go along and drive. This road is very little traveled and a white man might not be able to find it; but the natives accustomed to these trackless wilds do not soon become lost. Nearly the entire distance is through the brush, consisting of both large trees and short underbrush, so that the journey is more or less impeded. We travel along at a fair speed for oxen, as the driver is accustomed to dodging trees and shrubs; but darkness overtakes us before the village is reached. Progress is now slow, since the veldt from this to the village is full of the stumps of trees cut off, native fashion, two or three feet above ground, and we are fearful of running into these and breaking the wagon. Finally the wagon does become fast and the oxen must be unhitched until it is extricated. We again enter the wagon and move on. The welcome sight of the village fires shining out amid the darkness indicates that the end of the journey is near at hand. As we approach, a pack of dogs greet us with their loud barking, and light after light shines out through the open doors of the huts, or from the courtyard where the men, in the shelter of a semicircle of reeds, sit and palaver. There is no more pleasing sight to travelers through African wilds than the bright and cheerful blaze of the indispensable campfire, which answers for light and heat, for preparing the evening meal and warding off the wild animals.

As we reach the village, a number of natives emerge from their huts in order to ascertain who these intruders are, coming along the back of the village. On seeing their missionaries they gladly offer their services to conduct the wagon through the trees and stumps to the schoolhouse and teacher's hut. Sister Engle and I conclude not to have the tent pitched for the night, but to have our beds placed in the large, roomy schoolhouse, which boasts of a good plank door. We have had a busy day, for we have visited two schools, held two services, prepared our food, and traveled seventeen miles, so we are soon resting on our comfortable stretchers.

In the morning breakfast is prepared early, for the school is to begin earlier than usual so that we may continue our journey. We, however, take time to go over to the village and have a chat with some of the older people. This is Kabanzi village, and it has our oldest and best school. Before the opening of school services were held here frequently, and some were interested, but no one gave indications of wanting to follow the Lord until after school opened. Several boys from this place were converted while attending school at Macha. The teacher is Jamu, a careful, painstaking and faithful Christian. He is greatly interested in the spiritual as well as the intellectual advancement of his pupils. He carefully reads and explains the Word to them day by day, and he is a good evangelist. While in school at Macha he was always one of our best workmen in laying brick, sawing and thatching. There are generally about fifty pupils enrolled in this school and about thirty-five in daily attendance. Twelve have been baptized and nearly all the rest are in the Inquirers' Class.

We enter the schoolroom and the pupils march around the building, then enter and take their places on the logs extending across the room. All kneel and repeat the Lord's prayer, and then teaching begins. A few are reading the charts, some are in the first book, a number in the "Bible Stories," while a few are reading the Gospels of St. Mark and St. Matthew. A number of pupils are married men and women. The women bring their babies, and yet with the interruption caused by these, they have learned to read well and are in the "Bible Stories." They exhibit remarkable perseverance, for they not only attend school, but dig in their gardens, carry wood and water, grind their meal, and prepare their food. On Sunday they walk nine miles to Macha to church, for they, together with their husbands, are Christians, or seeking to be such. The teacher says that they started to school first; then their husbands followed. The husbands also work in the gardens, build huts, hunt game for food, and part of the time work for the white man in order to obtain money for taxes and clothes. They have also lately been buying cloth to make dresses for their wives, and one day I came upon one of the men carefully washing his wife's dress. The Gospel is making them better husbands and more careful and considerate of their wives. The heathen worship, with its attendant evils, together with vice, beer, tobacco, and kindred habits, is being banished from these few homes at least. When other villages were worshiping their rainmakers, these too were daily worshiping, but it was the Lord of lords Whom they worshiped. When the older ones desired to resort to their heathen worship, the Christians said, "No; if you do we shall build a kraal of our own." This means that there are many in the village who are not Christians, and some of them stoutly oppose the school; but the chief is favorable, as some of his children are Christians. There are also several old women in addition to the pupils who are breaking away from their old worship and accepting Christ. There is one old woman here who has come out very bright in her Christian experience. She meets with much opposition, but she does not waver.

Sikaluwa.

After we have remained one session of school, some of the older people are called and we have a service for very interested listeners. The boys then inspan the oxen and we proceed west to Kabwe School, about five or six miles distant. These are the people with whom we held a week's service over a year before. At this place our tent is pitched and we prepare to spend the night. This is a Baila village, and at first Sikaluwa had charge of the school, as he was brought up among that tribe and is a good Christian boy. He did good work for nearly a year, but he did not wish to continue. We were in doubt as to whom we should send to teach them; and after praying over the matter we concluded to consult the Christians in Members' Meeting, and inquire if anyone felt led of the Lord to take up the work there. At the close of the meeting we were surprised to have Chikaile come and say that he was willing to undertake the work, the Lord helping. He had been at the mission for some years and was quite capable of teaching. He is also one of the most cheerful and willing workers, but he is so young, perhaps only seventeen years of age. Because he is such an earnest and conscientious Christian, however, he was given the privilege, and has succeeded beyond our highest expectations. The kraal had just been moved and divided, so that he was obliged to build a new hut for himself. This he speedily did, and then began a schoolhouse which, with a little assistance from the villagers, was soon under roof. There is nothing lazy about the boy, and the school, as well as the work of the Lord, is progressing in his hands. He soon learned to know the people and the kind of lives they are leading, and is fearless in exposing sin, although he is always mild and humble in his demeanor. With him, as well as with other teachers who do not teach in their homes, a boy is sent, so that he need not be alone.

In this school we find twenty-four pupils in attendance, among them two elderly women. One of these, the mother of another Christian woman, has made a good confession. She entered school and we smiled somewhat incredulously, thinking that she was too old to learn; but our next visit to the school revealed the fact that she was making decided progress, and it seemed evident that she would soon be able to read the Gospel. After school was over, services were held and the people invited back for night meeting. We then prepared our food. During these visits to the villages the people sometimes bring a present of a chicken, a dish of peanuts, some milk, or whatever they think we might relish. Occasionally, on a hot day, it is a cup of ibwantu. This is a gruel made of the meal of native grain into which has been placed crushed root with an acid flavor. It is usually made in the evening and consumed the next day. It is not alcoholic, and has a very cooling and refreshing taste. It will be brought in a large cup, and as is their custom, the donor usually takes a sip first to show there is no poison in it.