A Long Walk To the River

The young marching band in their crisp white uniforms and blue sashes walked rhythmically in the lead of the parade. Not far behind, a truck loaded with speakers reverberated the pulsing beat of the Bacema (pronounced Bachema) worship song that declared there is no power greater than God's power. Behind the truck danced the traditional dancers in beaded skin outfits, the men with spears twirling in their hands as they paraded down the street.

Left to right: Emily Gaddis, Lydia, Acacia, Christy and Mariama join the Bwatiye parade. Photo credit: Shadrach Yusuf

I  (Christy) followed the dancers, holding my little girls’ hands, heading toward the river with hundreds of others. They ushered us to the front of the group where we saw the boats on the other side heading our way, going far upstream so they would land where the crowd waited to welcome the missionaries to their land as the first missionaries had come over one hundred years ago. It had been a long walk to the river, as it has been a long walk to this living water of the Word coming in Bacema. This was the day. Tears filled my eyes as my husband and our colleague Mike arrived, hailed by the traditional warriors, the pastors in their white collars, and the old women who had waited so long.

 

The Boys Brigade Leads the celebration. Photo credit: Shadrach Yusuf 

I had seen one of these old women passing an elderly man leaning heavily on his cane. After passing him, she turned to him and enthusiastically hugged him round the neck, something I've never seen before in Nigeria. This day was like no other, and it called for unusual, impulsive joy. The New Testament in Bacema had come for the Bwatiye people.

 

Translator Rev. Caleb raises the Bacema New Testament for the Bwatiye people. A new Lutheran Cathedral is in the background. Photo credit: Shadrach Yusuf

 

From the river we went to the place where the chief welcomed the first missionaries, the first small round hut that was the church, and the pulpit in a large stone patio that was once the cathedral where those missionaries walked and ministered. At the last stop, one of the translators addressed the crowd: "The missionaries only translated the first four chapters of Mark into our language, and then told us to finish the work. This great work has been finished and now you can hear these sweet words for yourself!" 

 

The first church in Numan Photo credit: Shadrach Yusuf

We went to bed that night, legs weary from the long walk, yet rejoicing that we witnessed the River of Life flowing in one of the Bwatiye people’s languages, Bacema. Please pray for the Bwatiye people as they learn to read and understand the Words of life in their language.