the Jos I love

when i think of my childhood, it lights up like a fairy tale.
i know there were tough times growing up as a missionary kid in africa, like saying goodbye to friends and family every time we boarded a plane or arguments about when i had to stop reading whatever book i was into, like boy heartache or a bad grade on a chemistry test. but those times are hard to find in my memory bank. what does come to mind is memory after memory of the Jos i love, the home i cry for.

tucked in the rolling red hills and scattered rocks of the Nigerian plateau is a sprawling city named Jos. as of 2006, its population is listed as 900,000, but there is no telling how many people really are there. it's a mass of dusty (or muddy, depending on the season) people and cars. the city grows wide, not tall, covered by rusty-looking tin roofs.

PRIDE POWER NAIJA!

the city is moving, always moving, and even at night, in the quiet darkness, if you listen in the moist air, you can hear downtown mumbling, almost talking. it's full of wide-open life. there's no better word for what i experience when i step off the plane onto Nigerian soil: LIFE.

downtown main street - note the cars parked in the median!

the grass stays bright green all rainy season long! 

a friendly lizard on our wall

the people show incredible hospitality: i remember sitting in a tiny one-room home with no electricity, and our host asked us if we'd like a mineral (soda). when we made our choice, a child ran down the street to purchase our drink! had we realized they didn't have it, we might not have requested anything!

a young girl does laundry... the little they have, they eagerly share

i remember gorgeous dry season sunsets, perfect rainy season weather, with the temperature hovering around the 70s most of the year. rainy season is always my favorite: a time of deep purple-blue clouds that rush in cool and heavy, dropping big splattery drops of refreshing water.
i remember rain beating on tin roofs, so that when we were in class, the teacher would sometimes have to stop speaking because no one could hear! at home, a steady pattering of rain was the best way to fall asleep.

heavy rain clouds moving in

rainy afternoon at my high school

my 3rd and 4th grade building

where my dad taught for years!

sunset over our backyard - that tower is the water tank

overlooking Jos from a nearby rock formation

the memories that stand out in my mind are smiling faces, old engine parts, climbing our old mango tree, eating guavas, colorful headties with matching dresses, joyous singing, children laughing or just staring, wide-eyed... the light switches are opposite: up is off, down is on. almost all windows have bars crossing them, to prevent burglary. once our windshield was stolen right out of our car while it sat parked overnight just feet from our house!

bars on our windows

Sunday best

soccer is the game of choice - no matter the condition of the ball

shops are crammed together like sardines in a can, row after row of tiny cubby-holes filled to the top with cloth, soaps, candies, flip-flops... the proprietors stand outside laughing with their friends, or calling out for you to come in and see their wares.

that was a really fuzzy seat!

NEPA is the electric company, and it is notorious for failing. electricity might be off more than it is on, and the same went for the phone service and water supply. we kept a big water tank for times when the water was off, and ran out with buckets to fill during a heavy rain pour. my parents finally got a generator after throwing away too much spoiled food... and now, everyone uses cell phones while land lines are obsolete.

NEPA was off that night...

only one shop had a generator on this rainy, no-electricity afternoon. everyone else ran inside to escape the rain.

having little has made Nigerians resourceful. they make old tires into shoes, kids wire bottle caps into toy cars, mechanics taste the petrol (gas) in your engine to make a mechanic's diagnosis...

sweet school children... and a couple of mismatched flip flops!

the hospital male ward... a lot of waiting and disinfectant odors here

it was always a land of contrasts: satellite dish poking up from a dilapidated mud home; a polished mercedes benz parked next to a garbage heap; a cell phone in the hand of everyone, rich or poor; flowers growing firey red out of a brown, dry-season tree.
spiritually, it is more black and white than here in the US. they do not pretend that the supernatural doesn't exist.

young girls hoping to sell the chin chin and groundnuts that they carry on their heads

gladiola

recently it has become a stark contrast of beauty and of horror.
the Jos i'm hearing about now is not the Jos i know. Muslims and Christians are fighting... a Muslim group called Boko Haram is claiming its desire to kill all Christians in the area. their purpose is to terrorize all Christians to make them leave, if not die.
in March 2010, in the middle of the night, the nearby village of Dogo Nahawa was attacked by a group of Muslims. over 400 people were hacked to death with machetes: women, children, and men alike.
see Reuters - Nigerian clash in Dogo Nahawa for more details.
that summer, i was blessed to visit the strong-willed survivors who were just barely finding the courage to move back into their homes. everyone i talked to had lost at least one family member. as we watched a soccer game amidst the green, peaceful hills, i caught myself in sad awe of the senselessness of it all.

watching the soccer game in a light rain

quiet contemplation - the face of many Dogo Nahawa children

cars and homes throughout the village were burned out, and now sat as silent reminders, or furniture

the violence didn't necessarily start then, but over the years since, there have been many killings. some are public shootings, some became known as 'silent killings', when Christians going on errands would just disappear and never make it home again. and the Christian community has often, sadly, reacted with anger, with retaliation.
two weeks ago today, a suicide bomber drove into a church in Jos. and today, another church in Jos was bombed. one of the blasts was close enough to my parents' house that bits of ceiling fell down and 2 living room windows were broken!
what happened to the Jos i knew, the Jos i loved!?
persecution often has a way of weeding out fake Christians, or those who are just 'in name only'. it also has a way of strengthening those who are truly God's people, because they become stronger and shine brighter.
i challenge you to search deep in your own soul; if you call yourself a Christian, which kind are you? what would be your response if someone busted down your door and slaughtered your family?

please pray with me for this city in turmoil, really the whole country is in turmoil.

• pray for peace, but pray that it would be God's peace.
• pray that Muslims will be reached by Christians who exemplify Christ's love.
• pray that the cycle of violence will end, that Boko Haram will be disbanded and unfunded, and that Christians will use God's power in their lives NOT to retaliate. this would be such a testimony!
• pray that this persecution will cause the real Christians to shine like stars into the darkness, and that many will be drawn to Jesus because of them.
• pray for those who have lost family members: for comfort and for God's reassurance.
• pray for protection for all of Nigeria's people, especially God's children (and, i'd like to say, especially my parents!).
• and lastly, please pray for family members and loved ones of those living in Nigeria who are all over the world, like me! 

"we know that suffering produces perseverance; 

perseverance, character; 

and character, hope. 

and hope does not disappoint us, 

because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, 

whom He has given us." 

Romans 5:3b-5

for more thoughts on persecution, follow this link: dec persecution post

thanks!