MY journal for 1886 opens with this entry,— .“Jan. 3. In bed
three days with fever.”
Notwithstanding the unwearied assistance rendered by Messrs
Koyi and McCallum during the strain of nursing Mr Rollo throughout the week
of his fatal illness, I was worn out, and I had a sharp attack of fever
myself, the usual result of over-anxiety and fatigue. Thus began the year
that was destined to be one of sorrow and of joy for those at Njuyu, and of
the triumph of the Gospel among the Ngoni.
About this time the station went by the name of
“Ekusinda-nyeriweni,” a term which cannot be translated in polite language.
The name was given by Mombera, and although it was accepted as a bad one by
the people, he did not mean it thus. It arose out of the frequent complaints
which people took to him of our supposed evil powers. We were accused of ail
the family disasters ; the non-success in battle; the death of cattle, and
the running away of slaves, or whatever evil came among the people. Mombera,
who as may be seen was a believer in us, became so irritated at their
numerous charges that he said, “The people are surely comfortable now that
they have got a “Ekusinda-nyeriweni.” The rebuke was levelled at them and
not at us, but the name stuck to us for a long time, until we got a new name
from the councillors which will be mentioned further on.
As we were treated with suspicion it was doubtful what effect
our having brought a horse into the country would have. Messrs McCallum and
Rollo had come up with a horse which was the first that the natives had ever
seen. Before they actually arrived the commotion over this strange animal
which they were riding was very great; and wild and absurd stories as to its
appearance and behaviour went round the country. It was said to have only
one eye, which when turned on one felled him to the ground; it was as tall
as the highest tree; its feet crushed houses and people; its bounding step
enabled it to jump over mountains and rivers; it had a tail which moved
continually and smote people to the earth. Such were the wild impressions
which this horse made on the ignorant people, who had only heard of it from
others as it approached the villages. Although, when it was seen, the people
became intelligently interested in it, we were in difficulties as to
pasturing the animal. Complaints were lodged that we allowed it to go near
their villages, so that child-bearing women could not come out, the belief
being that the strange animal would lead to the birth of monsters. We were
even advised not to allow it to come near the herds of cattle for the same
reason. But gradually their fears subsided, and instead of being regarded as
an evil thing, the people came long distances to see the wonderful animal.
Although, as mentioned in the previous chapter, Chisevi’s
informing the chief about the youths who were coming to us and praying, had
not led to an attack upon them as was at one time threatened, the
persecution they had to suffer was so great that when they desired to be
taught to read they were afraid to come by day, and so they came under cover
of night. At first the three sons of Kalengo, a witch-doctor, who was our
nearest neighbour, came. Their names were Chitezi, Mawalera and Makara. We
spent several hours together every evening, and they made rapid progress in
reading and writing. They were also instructed more fully in Christian
truth. The devotion of these youths was most marked, and as we watched their
minds opening under instruction, and their hearts and consciences coming
under the deepening influence of God’s Spirit, we felt stronger and more
hopeful in our work which was so liable to be stopped by the superstitious
clamourings of the people. But Mombera was no doubt cognisant of all that
went on, and it was noticeable that he began to look upon Chitezi as our
man. He being the only one of the three who was married could be accorded
the place of a man, and so Mombera and we had him as a common messenger on
nearly all occasions of communications passing between us. It was a
gratification to see the respect which Mombera paid to Chitezi even after he
had thus cast in his lot with us. Chitezi’s father was much respected, and
Chitezi himself had but lately been distinguished in several fights and had
received some special marks of the chiefs appreciation of his courage and
prowess. Yet his turning to us, while against the expressed desire of the
council, did not lead to Mombera (who knew all) turning against him or us at
that time. Many other things were known which betokened that the mind of the
chief as an individual leaned towards our work, however much he spoke in
public to the contrary. He had a dual nature,—on the one hand he was set to
curse the work on behalf of his advisers, while for himself, he was,
consciously or unconsciously, serving God’s purposes and helping it on in
many ways. On many occasions we had to thank God for the presence of even
the heathen Mombera on the throne.
When these youths met for prayer it was very touching to hear
them plead for the enlightenment of their father the witch-doctor, and for
their friends, their chief, and head-men. They had, as youths, understood
the worship of the ancestral spirits, and appreciated the position of prayer
in the new life. It was a powerful inspiration in this exercise when they
apprehended God as Father, ruling, guiding, and sustaining the world, and
the need and opportunity of coming to Him in calm as well as in storm, in
prosperity as well as in adversity; because in the ancestral worship they
did not require to think of the spirits except in case of sickness,
famine or drought. It was very interesting to watch the development of their
minds under the influence of the truth of Scripture, and how the mind,
accustomed to slavery and the relative positions of master and slave, chief
and vassal, which the system entailed, naturally assumed the same forms
under the spiritual kingdom. While they acknowledged God as Father, under
fuller instruction in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the idea of Him as “Great
owner of power,” “Owner,” “Chief,” was what came naturally to them, and by
these terms they usually addressed Him.
It was an unspeakable relief to us when we had actual members
of the tribe to consult with on the spiritual phases of our work, who were
able to read the meaning of the many disquieting things which occurred
around us in the behaviour of the people. We felt there was a bond between
us not born of earth or earthly power, and in the exercise of prayer we
could agree as touching anything we asked of the Father, and even then we
could count six,—a European, two Kafirs, and three Ngoni, — as with one
heart and mind desiring the coming of Christ’s Kingdom. There have been many
joyous seasons in my experience of the work since, but none have left such
an impression on my mind as those of the time we write of. Our anxieties
were unceasing; our position in the tribe insecure; our efforts all but
fruitless among the great mass of heathen ; our bodies frequently racked by
fever and sickness; we had but occasional communications from home; but
after dark the three Ngoni youths came to join with us in prayer for the
work. They had staked their safety and their position in the tribe in
accepting Christ. They had their temptations and their fears to relate, and
we could hold common converse on the outcome of events, and encourage one
another in our trying circumstances. Hallowed, indeed, were those hours in
the stillness of night, and as we knew not what a day would bring forth, but
continued in prayer, we are now able to look back and see how prayer was
answered, and in that little sanctuary in the dear old house in Njuyu the
faith of that little company has brought, by the mercy and overruling hand
of God, a rich return.
There is one phase of Mission life and work which is not
often written upon, but which ought to be mentioned. At home men and women
are called to volunteer for the mission field prepared for sacrifice, and
too often the idea of a sacrifice which must be made is the one most
prominent at such times. It is a false position in which to put the work.
Why not keep before the mind the advantages to one’s spiritual life in the
work I am not the only one who has felt that the Gospels and Epistles, as
well as the Old Testament Scriptures, have a fresher interest and newer
meaning to us when we are teaching the simple minds of the heathen; and that
the exercises of prayer and faith in the circumstances of the new life are
more real and refreshing. One learns the simplicity and reality of trust in
God when he hears a native, who may only have a few ideas or facts of divine
truth, pouring out his heart to God in earnest request, and waiting with
expectancy the answer to his prayer. Does God hear prayer? Our three lads
had learned as much of the truth as enabled them to believe and ask, and one
of many special objects prayed for, may be stated as it occurred and
confirmed their and our faith in the presence and power of God, and His care
of the work.
The occasion was when the increasing wealth and number of his
wives compelled the chief to make choice of an additional royal residence.
He had seven or eight royal kraals, and now he was to found another. It must
be remembered that all this time the whole tribe, save the three youths whom
we were instructing, were given to war and raiding other tribes. It was the
custom in connection with the founding of a new kraal, to call up the army
and make a raid on some tribe, setting the young warriors belonging to the
village chosen as a royal residence in the forefront of the battle, in order
to test their valour and ability to protect their chief in his new kraal.
From what we were told we knew such occasions to be times of great
excitement in the country, and the war following a very bloody one. The
young bloods had to “wash their spears in blood,” and it was their ambition
to have an important battle to prove their valour. Our boys were greatly
distressed—especially Chitezi, who would have to take his place in the Hoho
regiment under the Chipatulas who were our oppressors. The turmoil went on
for some days, and we heard that the army was to be despatched to attack the
Tonga on the Lake shore around Bandawe. On the day when the royal entrance
into the new village was to be made, we hoped that some opportunity might be
had for Mr Koyi to speak to Mombera to advise him against sending out the
army, and we prayed that Mombera might be restrained from ordering war. We
heard that Mombera had been debarred from entering his village by the armed
youths, who demanded of him an order to go out and “wash their spears in
blood,” that the chief had refused and was sitting outside determined to
occupy the village without giving a pledge to order out the army. The armed
escort that accompanied the chief to the new residence were in an excited
state, and were threatening to fight the others who were resisting his
entrance. As darkness began to fall we could see bodies of men rushing
hither and thither among the villages beyond the river, and we feared that
it would end in disaster. We decided that Chitezi should go over to quietly
watch the course of events, he having volunteered to do so, and that we
should continue in prayer for the prevention of war. He returned about ten
o’clock and reported that after a time of great excitement the chief was
ultimately allowed to enter, and the warriors dispersed. We ended our day of
prayer by acknowledging in praise the goodness of God. The event made an
impression on the minds of all, and our faithful three had their faith
strengthened.
If it should seem strange that a band of youths should so
oppose their chief, it must be remembered that war overruled everything
else. An armed party could steal cattle or anything it wanted with impunity,
and I have heard Ng’onomo, when dancing, calling Mombera a coward because he
did not order the army out. It was an understood thing, and would be done in
order to give evidence of a man’s readiness to serve his chief at any cost,
and it was always accepted in that sense.
We were never long without some pressing trouble, and
sometimes the anxiety was continued through many weeks. The anxious position
no doubt frequently induced or accentuated the attacks of fever which all
the members suffered from in those days, the attacks being more frequent and
severe than those of later years.
The question of a famine in consequence of drought was
agitating the minds of all in the tribe. A few showers fell in the November
of the previous year (1885), and the people had planted their maize. It
sprang up for a fortnight, and then, as the rains ceased until the 18th of
January, the corn was burned up and the people began to be greatly excited.
The usual period when rain may be expected is from about the end of November
to the end of March, so that towards the middle of January, when the early
sowing had been fruitless, and day after day the sun beat down from a
cloudless sky and rendered cultivation impossible in the absence of rain,
the excitement of the people, with famine staring them in the face, is not
to be wondered at.
However irrational the native may be in his beliefs and
practices he understands that there is no effect without a cause. In the
worship of the ancestral spirits when they are supposed to cause evil by
being displeased, the witchdoctor and the family or community recognise
their responsibility, and possibly misconduct, towards the spirit of the
house or the tribe. The practice of the witch-doctor is a fattening one, as
he not only gets his fee but a good piece of the meat he recommends them to
sacrifice to the displeased god. When we became “Ekusinda-nyeriweni ” we
expected that the witch-doctors, as well as the people generally, would hold
us to be the cause of the drought. For some weeks we were left ominously
alone by most people, and especially by those about the chief, but our
faithful three managed to keep us informed of what was passing in their
meetings about the cause of the drought. We were indeed blamed, and
particularly as I had erected instruments in the garden to control the
weather. These (meteorological instruments) I was known to consult morning
and evening and to write in a book what I was doing. At this time, of
course, a book was in their eyes nothing but an instrument of divination,
and as will be seen, they believed that it told us what was in their minds.
They spoke about “The Book,” as the Bible was so often referred to by us,
and they thought there was only one book.
We were not very anxious for a time. They were sacrificing
cattle to their ancestral spirits— household and tribal—and although there
was a general clamour about our being the cause of the drought we were not
molested. But as the drought continued and their sacrifices were unavailing,
more attention was paid to us and our actions. Some people would stand at
the hedge looking into the garden, and discuss the probable action of the
meteorological instruments to which they had seen me attending regularly. On
one occasion old Maumba, a councillor of the chief, came to talk about the
rain not coming and said, “'Why do you not give the rain? What does your
Book tell you is in our hearts about you just now?”
At length a meeting of the doctors was called to ascertain
the cause of the drought. Till then I hardly expected that the doctors had a
good word to say of us; but when, in answer to the question whether we
caused the rain to stop, they made a united statement that we had nothing to
do with it, we were greatly surprised and pleased. The doctors were divided
in their opinion as to the cause of the drought. One party made the cause
out to be the strife between Mombera and Mtwaro his brother, as the spirits
were highly displeased therewith. Another party said that the spirits were
at war among themselves, and the rain would come when they finished. The
third party said it was true that the spirits were displeased, but not on
account of Mombera’s quarrel with Mtwaro, but because the tribe had given no
heed to the message which we had brought to them. He instanced what seems to
be a fact, that one of their fathers, who died while they wTere at
Tanganyika, and who had never seen a white man, told them that in the course
of their wanderings they would meet with white men who would be their
friends, and to whom they must listen and be friendly. They were thus
neglecting the advice given them, and the spirits were angry. It did not,
however, occur to them that to obey was better than sacrifice ; so they
renewed their offerings to appease the spirits, and after waiting for a time
they were still disappointed. Several talked to us in a quiet, suspicious
way, as if insinuating that we had better send rain to save ourselves. At
length several councillors and a large number of men came over to us from
the chiefs place. They came to ask us to pray to our God to send rain, as
their own methods had entirely failed.
The councillor who spoke made an apology why they had not
settled the question of schools. We asked him whether he had come to speak
on that question or about the drought. He said it was the drought, so we
said he did not need to introduce the subject of schools, as that had no
connection with the drought, although we were glad to see that they still
retained their sense that they had not treated the question as they ought to
have done. We asked them if they came to us because they believed that we
had the power of giving or withholding rain, and one of them replied, “We
here to-day do not think so, but I cannot say that there are none who think
so. We believe it is the spirits.” We said, “Why do you come asking us to
pray for rain when you do not believe in our God?” “Oh,” he said, “just to
see which is best.” We asked if they would give up their own beliefs, and
permit us to instruct them in the Word of God if they found that our God
answered our prayers; but no one replied. We then for more than an hour
preached the Word to them, explaining how their ignorance made them think
God was only to be sought when our own efforts failed. We pointed out that
they themselves believed that when the spirits caused any calamity or, as
they thought, withheld rain, they knew there was a reason for it, and the
doctors were called to find out the reason, and in all cases it was in
themselves ; and so, before they could expect rain, or what they wanted,
they first offered sacrifices to satisfy the spirits; that we believed it
was for something in us that God withheld his blessings, and so it was
needful for us to repent; and that this feeling of the necessity of
repentance and of a sacrifice proved that we were all similarly constituted,
and that for us God had provided the sacrifice in the person of His own Son.
It was a splendid opportunity for preaching and we had close attention.
We sympathised with them, and said we would make special
prayer for rain in our meeting next day. They wanted us to go over and pray
in the chief's cattle kraal; but we refused, for the reason that we wanted
the people to come to our service on the station, and did not wish the Bible
to be over at the chief’s on such an occasion, because they attached a
superstitious importance to the Book. While we were engaged speaking, a
war-party appeared on the road some distance from the house, and engaged in
war-dances. We did not take any notice of it, although we knew it was a
signal of defiance to us for something; and, as we afterwards learned, it
was held in readiness so that if we had received them as they expected by
saying, “You have refused our word for these years, why do you come now?” it
would be called up to dance in front of the house, that being the only thing
that the Ngoni can do when they are nonplussed. The councillors who were
with us were uneasy, very uneasy, when the party came in sight, and no doubt
felt relieved that we did not run for our fire-arms, like the neighbouring
villagers, who were listening in the verandah, and who, on going home, found
that their wives and children had fled up the hills behind the station.
We were never able to discover their real intention in coming
with a regiment of armed men. It was only known to the councillors, and
Mombera afterwards said he did not know either; but there may have been some
idea of doing more than frightening us by it, because we saw another
regiment making for Chinyera, where Mr Williams was at the time, and it
remained in his vicinity for some time. Apparently some signal was made, and
it returned to the chief’s kraal soon after the deputation withdrew. Great
was the excitement among the Hoho people around the station, and
notwithstanding their conduct towards us, they now declared that our cause
was theirs, and that as they had brought us into the country they would have
to die with us, as that had been determined, they said, by the councillors,
should we not be able to give rain. That night, as during the evening, armed
men had been gathering at the chief’s kraal, which was only a mile distant
across the valley and in view of the station, so neither we nor the natives
near us retired to rest. It was affirmed by all that we were to be attacked,
and the natives set watchmen on all the ant-hills between us and the river.
We did not so much fear an organised attack, as that some of the young
bloods, excited by the war-dancing, might break out and fire the station, in
the hope of really inducing war, and so “we made our prayer unto our God,
and set a watch against them.”
A touching word was spoken by old Kalengo, the father of our
three adherents, who sat till far into the night with us at our house. He
was a slave of the Ngoni from the Senga country, and had known the position
of a slave in the tribe, till he became a witch-doctor. He feared the wild
warriors who were collecting at the chief’s place, and said, “Well, I’ll go
home to my own village now. If we hear the sound of war we will come to your
house to die with you. We were nothing at all to anyone till you came among
us; but at your house all are on the same level—we are not slaves.”
There was a large congregation in the church the next day,
councillors and others having come from headquarters. Mr Koyi conducted the
service, and expounded the ten commandments, as we do at every
church-service. I addressed the people, telling them of droughts in South
Africa, and such as we have at home sometimes, and the services held by
Christians every year to thank God for the harvest. I read Isa. lix. 1-8,
and connected that passage and Isa. lxviii. 6 with Malachi iii. 10, from
which I spoke, Mr Koyi acting as interpreter. I pointed out what God desired
in place of sacrifices, and as they would never think of praying to the
spirits without first sacrificing, so we had to learn from God’s Word how we
are to prepare our hearts to seek Him. A councillor who had killed a man
just before then was present, and as I read, “Your hands are defiled with
blood,” he cried out, “He is speaking out of his own head; that is not in
the Book.” It showed, I think, that his conscience was not dead. So clearly
did the Bible describe their thoughts and feelings that they believed that
we knew from it all their thoughts.
None of the warriors had come to the service, and as they
continued dancing at the royal kraal, we determined to watch again at night.
About four in the morning slight rain began to fall, and we retired to rest.
Next day we had agreed to hold another service to pray for rain, and at noon
the people collected, some of the chief’s councillors being again present.
At two o’clock, before the meeting had dispersed, heavy rain fell. This was
the 18th of January, and seven weeks after the rain in November. The
incident made a profound impression upon the minds of the natives, and no
doubt indirectly, if not directly, advanced our work. The rain dispersed the
assembled warriors, and the people again became engaged in planting
operations, and quiet ensued for a time.
A few weeks after, on a Sunday, two councillors came to us
with a sheep as a thank-offering for the rain. We refused the gift as we
disclaimed having regulated the rain, and because, as we pointed out, they
had sacrificed a score or more cattle to the spirits and received no rain
from them, but confessed themselves beaten, while God, who had alone sent
rain in answer to prayer, was to be paid by the gift of a sheep. They heard
some plain-speaking and preaching and appeared glad when we allowed them to
go, taking the sheep with them. The common people, who now began to be
bolder in their attendance at the services, felt that we were being slighted
too much by the councillors, and such an incident as the offering of the
sheep was talked of far and near. It aided greatly in the furtherance of our
interests, as all believed that by our prayers we could give or withhold
rain, and considered that we should have accorded to us equal rights with
the witch-doctors whose incantations had so signally failed.
The Sabbath meetings now became more firmly established, as
the presence of the amaduna at the meetings held to pray for rain was taken
by the common people as a recognition of them, and they were not afraid to
come. The effect of the rain-question was to increase the interest of the
people in the Book, and we were able greatly to extend our area of
evangelistic work, and wherever we found the head of a village willing for a
service to be held we visited his village regularly and preached. The
attitude of the people towards us was more respectful and hearty, so we went
on, rejoicing greatly. At the end of February there was a cessation of rain
for about a week. Mombera had hanged a man for stealing cattle, and a
deputation came to ask if we were offended at this and had stopped the rain.
We again had the ear of the amaduna and tried to teach them the Word of God,
and upbraided them for having left off attending the services.
That rainy season was a remarkable one, and the natives still
remember and speak of it. Kain fell on one day in November, nine days in
January, eleven in February, twenty in March, and four in April, i.e. on
forty-five days, and only reached the exceptionally small amount of nineteen
inches, yet the best harvest I have seen in Ngoniland followed. The rain
fell in gentle showers and suited the character of the country. The natives
say that they never had such a convenient rainy season, as it rained at
night and did not prevent their work in the gardens during the day. The
natives usually suffered from want of corn in the interval between sowing
and reaping, as insufficient stores were made to carry them on to the
harvest, and at the time of which we write, as the harvest was late there
was great hunger. We had an opportunity of showing the Hoho people, who had
been very troublesome and unkind to us, that we could warmly interest
ourselves in their life and try to help them in time of need. We distributed
a considerable quantity of beads among them, to enable them to trade with
those who might have food for sale. I am afraid our kindness was not duly
appreciated by all. The heads of the villages were called to the house, and
beginning with the oldest we gave out the beads. The Chipatulas were
consequently placed among the last and were very indignant and rude to us,
as they considered we had slighted them in giving to others—and to slaves
—before giving to them. The encouragement received from these men a little
later on was not very marked. After their beads were used up, and the hunger
still continuing, we offered to give them letters to our friends at Bandawe
for which they would get loads of flour if they would send down their
villagers, but we were told that we should get the Tonga who usually carry
our goods to bring it up, and they would receive it. I do not quote these
incidents as illustrative of all the natives, but for many a day it seemed
that the people were unable to appreciate a kind act, and took it as an
exhibition of our simplicity on which they desired to impose further.
In June we had to undergo one of our greatest trials when
William Koyi was removed by death. Not till then had I fully felt the
responsibilities of the work, or so great a sense of loneliness and
helplessness among the Ngoni. In a brief biography of our friend I have
tried to tell something of our loss by his death, and how I loved him, so
that it is unnecessary to say more in this place.
While we were mourning the death of our comrade, Mr Williams
and I were rejoicing that the restrictions on our work were being removed,
and our position receiving more general recognition. It was while Mr Koyi
was on his deathbed that there was a meeting of the chief, the sub-chiefs
(his brothers), and their head-men. For some years there had been a feud
between Mombera and his brother Mtwaro at Ekwen-deni, and the permission we
had asked to visit the latter had always been refused. As he was
heir-apparent it seemed to us advisable to make his acquaintance, and we
regretted Mombera’s refusal. In the middle of 1886 the action of Mombera in
having consulted us in regard to the rain, and seemingly having come under
our power, stirred up the hatred of the other sections of the tribe. A
desperate attempt was made by the disaffected in the council to overthrow
the chieftainship of Mombera and openly follow their own ways. Again our
prayers were heard, and after the turmoil of several days, the matter ended
by Mombera and Mtwaro becoming reconciled, notwithstanding the opposition of
some who desired the enmity to exist, in order to aid their effort to break
up the tribe into sections. The four brothers pledged their friendship, and
the kingdom was maintained intact. That and other matters were settled in
open council, but the question of our presence and work was taken up in
private by the chief, his brothers, and the councillors. This was no doubt
owing to the presence of large armed escorts which had come with the
sub-chiefs; in them the war instinct was active, and they were eager for the
excitement of open discussion.
What was said and done in private we do not know, but we were
informed next day by a deputation representing each party in the council,
that we must understand that we were free to preach the Gospel, and teach
the children in every part of the country. They expressed the hope that,
iustead of confining our work to the people around one station, we would
open stations in each of the principal divisions of the tribe. We learned
afterwards that Mombera was accused of receiving goods from us, and that the
principal thought in their minds was, that by having a resident white man at
each sub-chiefs village they would also share in the spoil. There was full
proof of this eighteen months afterwards, as will be seen further on; but it
was evident also that the growth of popular feeling in our favour was
proving an uncomfortable fact in the mind of the chiefs, and they were
compelled to open the country to us. I wrote home at the time as follows:—“I
can point to no particular incident closely connected with the happy change
in the feelings of the people; but nothing more satisfactory can be said
than that the cumulative force of the Christian life and teaching of those
resident here has slowly but surely produced its natural effects on their
minds. Various incidents, such as the rain question last January, could be
cited as distinct stages of advance, but no part of our work has been
without its power; and I believe that the patient waiting of the past years
will be amply justified and rewarded in the results of the future.
“They do not desire to engage in war, and the only advocate
for war at the council meeting was shouted down by the assembled councillors.
Since Mr Koyi’s death a deputation of councillors came from the chief, on
account of a rumour having been spread that since the country here seems to
kill all our fellow-workers we would now leave. The chief sent them to say
that we must not leave, but consider our position the same as if their
special friend Mr Koyi had lived. To us a few days before Mombera said, c I
understand your work to be such that if deaths do occur it will still go on.
God gave us life, and He can take us away when He pleases, and we cannot say
aught.’ We assured him that he had spoken rightly, and told him that though
we should die there would be others who would carry on the work. Though
teaching was proscribed, we have three youths reading the New Testament, and
others coming on rapidly. Most of these are also earnestly striving to know
God and walk in His ways, and from among these we will find helpers when we
formally open school.
“ Our position and prospects are cheering. Mr Williams has
agreed to extend his engagement for two years meantime; but as he must now
reside here the station at Chinyera occupied by him will be closed, except
on Sundays, when one of us will walk over and conduct services at one or
more villages. A good climate and extensive opportunities for service can be
offered here, and I trust the Committee will be able speedily to fill the
place of Mr Koyi. We should with another helper be able now to itinerate,
which is a method of work which would be greatly appreciated here by the
people. To fully equip the station, an ordained missionaiy should be sent,
for we have hopes that a native church will be very soon established here.”
Mtwaro had also a personal interest in becoming reconciled to
Mombera and in professing an interest in us. Some time before he had sent a
messenger to me requesting my presence at his kraal in order to treat an
affection in his left knee-joint. I sent back the reply that I would gladly
come to him if he would first obtain Mom-bera's consent, as I had been
refused permission to visit him. He (Mtwaro) had heard of the medical work
and desired the benefit of it in his own case. When we were permitted, as I
have related, to visit Mtwaro I went to him, but medical treatment was
unsatisfactory on account of the superstition of his head-men, who would not
allow me to touch or examine the knee-joint. My visit enabled me to know the
expectations of the people, and their begging for cloth was most irritating
and trying, but was satisfactory in so far that the ice was broken and
another door opened for our work. I was, however, not allowed into the
village, but had to pitch my tent outside in the bush. In the middle of the
night I found myself alone, with the hyenas sniffing round the tent at my
elbow, as my men had crept away to the warmth of the huts. During the day
the people crowded round the tent, and more than one hand could be seen
pushed under the canvas at one time to pull out whatever they could grasp.
With the exception of Mr John W. Moir who had visited him in 1879, no white
man had met Mtwaro before at his kraal.
We were encouraged when harvest came round by finding among
the people, in some of the villages where we conducted services, a desire to
have a special meeting to thank God for the crop about to be reaped. They
said God had given them the harvest, and they should thank Him for it before
they began to reap. Thus for the first time in Ngoniland, on the people’s
initiative, a heathen custom,—the feast of first-fruits,—was replaced by a
service of praise to Almighty God. It was the more encouraging as it came
from the villagers among whom the Word had been longest preached, and was in
marked contrast to the ignorant talk of those who were not instructed. A
large and hearty service was held, and then they set about gathering in
their crops.
In August I left for Mandala and returned with my wife in the
beginning of October. The reception accorded us on our arrival was very
warm, and an explanation was given of the scanty respect shown on some
former occasions. The chief said, “Yesterday you were a boy; today you are a
man and can speak.” The Ngoni accorded the privileges of manhood, such as
transacting of business, to married men, and as long as I was unmarried it
was contrary to their habit to have to treat with unmarried persons whom
they considered to be boys. It is undoubtedly the case that the married
state has been more helpful to the progress of the work than the unmarried
had been.
We were not long in starting a school when we obtained
permission, and from the first we had two natives, who were able to read, to
help us in the work. They were two of those who had been taught in the
evenings and they proved a great help. After the first fortnight, the whole
of the sixty children attending came and demanded their pay for learning the
Book. When they found they were not to be paid, they refused to come, and
again the Chipatulas showed their hand in preventing them from coming
because we also refused to pa)7 them for allowing the children to come. The
two native teachers, however, from among those in their village were able to
collect twenty-two scholars, and so again the school went on, that being the
number in attendance for nearly a year.
When the school was fairly started, Mombera sent the ominous
warning, “You must not cultivate your garden merely in one place,” meaning
that the jealousy of the others would be aroused if we did not immediately
begin schools in their districts. We explained that on account of distance
that could not be accomplished until we were reinforced from home, and went
quietly on with our work at Njuyu, making efforts to extend our influence in
the new districts. Our efforts in the latter direction revealed how much the
questions of war and cloth were mixed up with their talk about schools and
preaching, and discounted their professed acceptance of our work. It was
increasingly evident that we could not rely on political changes, or edicts
of councils to establish the work among them, and we therefore bore with
their ignorant conclusions and temporal expectations, and strove to have the
spiritual power in the work which would establish and extend it. As we had
been long in getting a commencement made in school work, we determined that
the schools should be evangelistic agencies, and the workers in them only
those whose lives were consistent with their profession. The question arose
regarding one who was a polygamist, although in other respects consistent,
being allowed to teach, and his offer of service was declined until he
should dissolve his polygamous connections. In after years the wisdom of
this step was revealed.
The year 1886 closed with one school in progress and
evangelistic work being carried on at six or seven centres. A new era had
begun in Ngoniland. |