The Children

By Pastor Steve Nute

 

“Anya, imi, ono, nte, ntutu, ishi, nnukwu afo…” Over and over they schooled me and made me repeat, “Eyes, nose, mouth, ears, heir, head and big belly.”

“Onye ocha, please tell us how God made the world,” they said.

I struggled to present this wonderful story to ears not yet accustomed to my brand of English. Eyes wide with wonder, they watched me, not because of the story, but because I was a new thing. It always seems that the children are my first friends wherever I go. Africa was no exception. At the compound, or at the crusades, I enjoyed being surrounded by a pressing crowd of children just wanting to “touch Onye Ocha.”

Seven month old Ephraim junior, smiling like nobody’s business, snuggled up close as I lifted him from the floor. Like the rest of the children, he wanted a ton or two of attention. He is blessed more highly than some children of this culture because his father is wealthy enough to provide proper food.

Ephraim has five beautiful daughters and two of the cutest little sons you ever saw. The youngest, affectionately called Junior, and the next to the youngest, “Thank God” end up this troop that, before their arrival, consisted of girls. If you were born in Nigeria , you would understand why the first male offspring was named “Thank God.” It is he who will inherit the family compound and be responsible for the others.

The eldest daughter with her almost Polynesian features shares the African name “Ngozi” or “Blessing” with many other Nigerians. The children are mostly called by their English first names; hers is Christiana.

Second is the lively and precocious Charity with her ever present smile and wool cap. She is followed by Glory, the one who received the distinction of being in most of my photos.
Patience and Goodness, who look enough alike to confuse this Onye Ocha, fill up the list of lovely daughters. These children made my stay in Nigeria most enjoyable.

If I took a siesta, I had to pull the curtains, or the tree outside my window would blossom with a bouquet of smiling faces. I admit, I did nothing to discourage this action, rather I stuck my nose out and made comments about the “en ee fey fey,” or birds, in the tree. One afternoon, I counted fourteen of the highly colored birds hoping to catch the attention of the “Mwoke Afonu” or bearded man.

I was awakened one morning by the horrible sound of a merciless beating being viciously administered next door. I felt my heart sink, and I looked over the wall at a nine year old girl rolled up in a ball clutching her midriff in agony. “Oh, God,” I prayed, “help me to make a difference here, help me to bring the love of Christ to these people.”

I admit to having a special tender place toward this little girl for the rest of my time there.
I still tear up when I see her in my minds eye writhing in pain. An hour later she was up and about and smiling, but walking rather gingerly.

If I seemed to play favorites and shower a little extra love on this small resilient elf, then please pardon me. If I prayed for this child a bit more tenderly than for the others, God will understand.
The children were really pushed aside in the crusades as well as in every day life. I noticed the first night that prior to the Altar call all the children were herded off to a common area to be “dealt with” by the children’s worker. I determined to make a difference there, meddlesome man that I am, and I think, in some small way I was able to.

The third night of the Awka crusade in Umudioka village, I stood near the front instead of taking my seat. When the call came for the children to be herded aside, I went along with them. The roar from those pleased little voices, I confess, may have interrupted the “main altar call”, but I really felt that some statement had to be made. I continued to pay attention to children during my crusades, and was gratified when Ephraim, on the fourth night of the Onitsha crusade, called the children to the front and not aside. As he prayed a special blessing on those children, my heart was filled. Maybe, just maybe, I had made a small difference.

After I returned home, Lisa, our Sunday School superintendent, sorted through the vast stores of Child Evangelism Fellowship materials we had accumulated over the years. Many of these have been boxed and sent to Nigeria to help build a children’s ministry.
I told Ephraim, “If I come again, we must have a special crusade just for the children.” He agreed.

One of the other children who lived in the Ndife compound was “Ekene.” Really that is only part of his name and it means “thank”. His full name is the same as Ephraim’s eldest son, “Ekene Dele Chukwu”, Thanks Be Unto God Almighty. I called this enterprising youngster “The General” because he always wanted to salute us. He always had a ready smile and never ceased to ask if we had any more “Blunblun”, or balloons.

As we sat at our dining room table on the last night, *Christiana shyly approached and said in her best English, “We will be sorry to miss you.” Christi, we will be sorry to miss you, too. God please watch over these little ones and keep them safe. And help them to be the generation that overcomes in Jesus’ Name, Amen.

*(note Christi is now grown and has triplets, she and her husband are in evangelistic ministry she has become a barrister in her land and can hear supreme court cases)
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