The jungle folk of Africa

by Robert H. Milligan

In one of my towns six persons who had professed their faith in Christ became weary of waiting, and went over to the Roman Catholics. For a Jesuit priest of the French mission had visited them, and offered to teach them at once. I need not say that it hurt to have the Jesuits gather the harvest for which I had waited so long. I should have welcomed their help if I believed that they had a real Gospel for the people. There were so many towns in which no missionary work whatever had been done that I had always been sufficiently courteous to pass by those towns where they were working, and go on to those which were utterly heathen. But the Jesuits did not reciprocate this courtesy. Usually, as soon as they heard that I had placed a catechist in a certain town, they immediately sent one of their catechists to that same town. A priest visited Ayol, where, as I have said, there were twenty-two Christians. He knew that they had been waiting long for instruction. He first tried to impress upon them that baptism was necessary to salvation; and he told them that the reason “Mr. Milligan” did not baptize them was that he was their enemy, and was trying to keep them out of heaven. Then he said that he himself was willing to baptize them then and there, and receive them into the church. There were several shrewd men among the Christians who kept them all loyal. They said: “We are not ready to be baptized. We have not been taught.” Then the priest offered to stay there a week and teach them every day. But they refused outright, and said they would not be baptized by anybody but myself.

There were many strings to this man’s fiddle. When he went into a town where he perceived that there was a strong tie between the people and me, he would assume a most friendly and even affectionate attitude towards me. In one such town he found one of my catechists, Eyena, who had a large class of thirty-one persons, some of whom were only inquirers and not converts. The priest told the people that he and I were the best of friends, and that they ought to treat us both alike; that this large class ought to divide into two parts, and he would place a catechist there who would teach half of them. They did not waver. But finding that there were several men in the class who were not yet converts, but inquirers, and who were living in polygamy, he at last told those men that if they would enter his class they could be Christians without putting away their wives. This inducement enticed four men out of the class. He could the better take advantage of me because I made it a point never to refer to him among the people.

When I was once away for a health-change, he visited one of my towns where there were sixteen newly converted Christians. With great enthusiasm he made the bold announcement that Mr. Milligan had been converted to the Roman Catholic faith and that he had come to baptize them and receive them into the only true Church. They were staggered. I do not know what might have happened had it not been for a certain man, Angona. Angona stepping forward, said: “If Mr. Milligan is a Catholic we will all become Catholics. But we will only be baptized by him. So we will wait until he comes.” Despite this opposition this Jesuit and myself always seemed to be good friends when we met.

One day I walked to an island town six miles away. It was a new town; the people had recently come from the bush. The road, being also new, was very bad: we sometimes waded in mud to our knees. Ndong Koni called it ebol nzen—a rotten road. While I was speaking to the people of the town, on the subject of a future life, endeavouring to awaken their interest by asking questions as to what they knew and believed regarding it, I observed in the audience two persons, a man and a woman, wearing a Roman crucifix, and I addressed my question to them. I found them quite as ignorant as any of the others. “Most of us,” they said, “have some belief in a future life; but we really do not know.” “For my part,” said the man, “I believe that death finishes everything.”

Pointing to the crucifix which he wore, I asked him what it meant. He replied: “This is a Catholic fetish. A priest came into this town when I was very sick and put this thing on me. I suppose it is a health-fetish, for I soon got well and I have not been sick since.”

The woman was as ignorant as the man, and they represent a large class who have been baptized and are wearing the crucifix without any idea of its meaning. Thus is the cross of Christ degraded to the level of an African fetish. I would not say, however, that this is the rule. I am sure it is not.

The Jesuits instil a certain idea of morality; but it leaves much to be desired. One day a girl who had just come from confession was quarrelling with a male cousin, or more likely he was quarrelling with her, when in reply to some scurrilous observation, she said to him: “I would half kill you if I were not in a state of grace. But you just wait!”

Time passed, and I had five catechists in the field. At last some of the catechumens were ready to be baptized. Then the church was organized at Ayol, with fourteen members. They were not likely to confound the church of Christ with any mere building made with hands; for as yet there was no building. We organized the church and held the first communion service in the street. The second communion service was held in another town called Makwena, Ndong Koni’s town, where his uncle was chief. The Christians of Makwena had built a beautiful chapel of bamboo, with doors and windows on hinges. Ndong Koni had worked in the yard at Baraka in order to buy those doors and windows for the church.

THREE FANG BOYS.