Mango Musings

March 14, 2010  

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It’s 4:10 p.m. and still 104 on the terrace.  Yesterday that translated into 114 in the shade out in the breeze, and I suspect the temperature is about the same today.  It’s funny how it doesn’t feel all that warm or uncomfortable anymore.  But we do notice the fatigue that hits us this time of year, and it will be nice to be out of it for a few weeks.  We travel home to the States at the end of March, arriving in Seattle on April 1, Lord willing.  The purpose of the trip is Ryan and Meredith’s wedding in April.  Excitement is building as we make our plans and preparations.        

Saturday we shared plans for another wedding, this one slated for May 15, after we return from the States.  Pastor Laré was to bring the dowry for Akofa from Dapaong down to Nogbedji’s house in Mango.  I’ll be including some pictures we took of the event if you care to check out the site where those are available.        

Randy and I had been invited to the closing ceremonies of the International Day of the Woman, and the invitation said that it was to begin at 8:00 a.m. precisely.  So we rushed to get there, arriving at exactly 8:00, only to find three or four people putting nametags on chairs, while a group of soldiers was working to set up small tents to shelter people from the sun.  We sat there for half an hour, while the public address people blasted out West African music.  The crowd didn’t appear to get any larger, and we finally decided they could celebrate the international day of the woman without us.  Which was just as well, as I think there is a lot of hypocrisy in something like that up here in Mango anyway.        

Leaving early allowed us to be available for Nogbedji’s call that the people from Dapaong had arrived to give the dowry for Akofa.  Since I had never been to one of these events, I was looking forward to what we would see and learn.  We discovered that getting married involves following rules developed over centuries that have been standardized in the culture.  It’s no small matter to take a wife, or for a woman to give herself to a man.  And that’s a good thing.        

The first thing I noticed was that Pastor Laré wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and in fact, that at the presentation of the dowry to the girl and her family, the man doesn’t come.  He has someone stand in for him, and in this case his younger brother was his representative, accompanied by Rita, a faithful church member up in Dapaong.  Laré was in Dapaong, no doubt on pins and needles as he wondered how things were going in Mango.  Nogbedji was good enough to explain all of this to us.        

Akofa was nowhere to be seen either.  She was out of sight in one of the back rooms in the house.  She would come out once the dowry was placed in full view of her family members.  She would have to accept the dowry, not just once, but three times.  Three times her family would ask her, “Do you accept this dowry that Laré has sent for you?”  And three times she would repeat yes.  Why three times?  That way there could be no complaining later that the dowry was too small, or that she had been tricked into marrying this man.  Witnesses from both families would be there to attest that she was a willing participant in the marriage.  She wasn’t being forced into the marriage against her will.        

The dowry was no surprise to her, as it had been negotiated with family members a month earlier.  Then she had traveled to Dapaong to shop for the various items together with Laré.  It was his money being spent, but she was making certain that she got what she wanted.  She wasn’t going to trust the judgment of a man when it came to the fabric from which she could later make her dresses.  Not a bad idea.  But the form had to be followed.  She would be asked three times, “Do you accept this dowry?”        

Nogbedji explained another custom they needed to respect.  When Laré’s brother arrived with the dowry, the family would ask him who he was, and why he had come.  Then they would ask him what these things were that he had brought with him.  Nogbedji laughed a little, telling us that everyone knew him and why he had come, but custom must be followed, and they would ask the questions, while he would know exactly how to respond.        

It was touching to see Akofa’s older brother brought into this ceremony, as Nogbedji had him ask a number of the appropriate questions, carefully instructing him about what to say.  He is being prepared for manhood, and eventual leadership in the family as Nogbedji grows older and one day transfers authority to his oldest son.  It is necessary to pass on to the next generation the customs that are so important here in West Africa.        

Then there was one element that is pretty well universal, I think.  Her mom cried, as she looked at the young lady she had brought into the world, nurtured and cared for over so many years, and would soon be losing to the man who had come and asked for her hand.  It’s the way of life that even in moments of joy, there are elements of sadness as we contemplate the separation we must endure as we move through life.  As I muse on this, it seems to me that in this life, separated from God and heaven as we are, we cannot know total joy unmixed with sorrow.  Throughout all of life, God’s blessings come, but there is also an element of sadness with which we live.  We have proverbs that express this truth.  “Into every life a little rain must fall.”  “Every storm cloud has a silver lining.” We wait and long for the day when there will no longer be separation; when joy will be unmixed with sorrow.  That day can only come when God’s children are in His presence, where, “There is fullness of joy.”        

Nogbedji has a new group of apprentices, all of them Muslim, he told me.  So this begins a new phase in the ministry.  Please continue to pray for a way to help him surgically with his damaged leg.  I’m thankful that we have friends looking for options that will allow us to help him prior to August when an orthopedic surgeon is scheduled to come to our hospital in Tsiko.  I watch Nogbedji, and know that he is living with a great deal of pain.  Thanks for your prayer support.