The little children shine

A couple of months ago the branch president handed us a list of names of those children over nine years of age who belong to member families but haven't yet been baptized. We arranged to track these young Saints and determine the status of each and whether any would like to be taught the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The teaching that resulted has afforded us some of the finest times of our ten months here in West Africa.
We found seven children ranging from thirteen years of age to nine and taught many younger children in the process.

It is no revelation that teaching young children is a whole different ball game entirely. We have tried many new ideas and techniques and the results, I think, have been admirable. The children are quite well prepared and excited about their baptisms all scheduled for 9:30 AM on the 26th day of March, 2011.

Sister Neves said, "you are crazy to plan so much for one day". The Sunday, a week ago, when the children were all interviewed, plainly showed that Sister Neves was correct on that advice and I was too late to adopt her suggestion.

It began early enough with a 5:30 wake up so we could get to the east side and make sure the children were in the Wellington chapel in time for all that had to be done before 10:30. We rehearsed it with them two days earlier. "when are you going to be ready to leave your house, Seibatu? Sharp eight", was always the answer. "Gbassey? Sharp eight!  Tamgba? Sharp eight".

Sharp eight thirty Adama, Seibatu, and Marian came roaring up on two motakas to join the other five who just barely arrived at the Kissy chapel. Just like that with eight directions to go wrong we were all gathered and ready to go get baptized.                                                                                    

Samuel Kanu, mom's original shepherd was assigned the Mosarray's three girls just to go by and see that they got away on time and it worked very well. I was a little surprised to see them on the motorcycles without an adult escort but it wasn't worth a comment from the girls..

Seibatu is from the provinces, Adama is belongs to President Mossary's daughter who lives in the provinces, and Marian is a niece whose family cannot provide an education so they sent her to the city to give the president the opportunity. One time we were teaching the three little sweethearts and Seibatu hadn't yet made her appearance. The girls always washed and changed into some clean dresses for our visits. From the open window I heard President Mossary scold Seibatu and say, "Yu na bad mortalman"!

The idea that she is a bad human is so far from our perception that although poignant it was hilarious at the same time. She came out with tears in her eyes but we managed to take care of the hurt in about thirty seconds and she was just fine.


Uncle Sahr Fomba was assigned to bring the Fomba three, Gbessay, Sia, and Tamba who rounded out the eight children. Are these not the sweetest looking boys and girls you could imagine?

We all used a little public transportation and came together again at the chapel in Wellington where the baptismal font resides. Samuel had just made a remark about me being in his way so I helped him out even further. me for getting in his way. You got your Julius Rowe, Samuel Kanu, Elder Neves, Peter Vandi Bassie Jr, Albert Sessay, President Prince Ngegba, Matta Mossary, Ali Kamara, Peter Bassie Sr., Ruggiatu Bassie, Peter's cousin, Sister Neves, and Massa Mossary. I think I named the children enough times already.

Peter Bassie was assigned three candidates, Sahr Fomba three, and I baptized Marian and Seibatu which was a joy. We are shown below sorting through the white clothing. Sister Neves and I have now accumulated enough of our own clothing to handle an easy dozen from enormous ladies to tiny children. We borrowed clothing the first time but decided we didn't like that way one little bit. Four dollars each seems like a bargain to have your own white things in the back room whenever you need them.

I said, "turn around kids so I can snap your photo," and only Sia did. The children are all going back to the old dressing rooms with Matta Mossary to get there clothes on their backs. The rooms are a little bit of a mess but at least its not out in the open air.

I was going to apologize and say I'm sorry the faces are so black but that is probably because the faces are so black and healthy looking and not so pasty white like some older fat white people I might point out in the photo. Sahr Fomba is the man on the extreme left.

Elder Massey is shown here helping little Sister Adama out of the font and back to a waiting towel. Peter Bassie is shown in the font waiting for Prince Ngegba to make his way over to Elder Massey. The water is cool and deep and just right for the day and for the event.

Now Marian has been all baptized and being helped out by Elder Massey who works in Wellington. Elder Jenkins from Star Valley is shown on the other end of the font. I'm about ready to climb out with my work all done. The water came almost up to the chin of these littlest ones. A little dip of the head and neck was all that was needed. I think I enjoyed baptizing these two little ones almost as much as I did my own a long time ago. These little sweet spirits moments away from heaven renew my spirit and make me think that maybe all is right with the world after all.

We found our way back to the Kissy chapel and then did a little quick head count and sort before taking the lighter ones on up to Looking Town for their school sports at Fonday Field, much bigger program than BYU basketball any day.

President Ngegba and Peter Bassie Senior are in the back and in the front you'll find Adama, Mohamed, Marian, Prince, and Seibatu. The little guy in the back with the yellow shirt is a stray and the wall in the back is the wall surrounding the famous Fonday Field. The gate on the right opens into a compound where a dozen people make their home.

The Muslim school is to the left and not visible. This is where we usually park the truck before we begin the long trek to the homes up in Looking Town.

Sister Neves and I were on the program as the chief patrons and as the chairman I was asked to give the opening remarks.

Sister Neves and I were listed as Chief Patrons in the program for the sports event. I am not sure how much that might end up costing. I was also listed as chairman and asked to give a few opening remarks. I did my best to encourage them to run and jump and play and told the audience of thousands that I used to play with Michael Jordan. I thought I acquitted myself well given the circumstances and the surroundings.

You'll note my body guards, Ali, Samuel, and Albert who are there in case anything goes awry. As a matter of fact, toward evening I imagine two thousand men, women, and children had gathered to just be a part of the thing I imagine. Francis, who we baptized a month ago, got into an altercation with someone whom he accused of stealing a phone. I noted him back behind our seats taking off his shirt and getting ready for blows and asked Samuel and Albert to go make sure it didn't happen.

They collared Francis and calmed him down and prevented the ugly scene from continuing its ugliness. They sat there behind us for four hours while Sister Neves and I were treated like royalty. I did, however, mention to Sister Neves on the way home that their stock took a pretty good jump today.

We maintained the prize seats of honor under the blue tarp and a good fish sandwich and a warm soda pop. About every half hour the master of ceremonies mentioned Elder and Sister Neves in some context or another. I will have trouble adjusting to being a common ordinary citizen when we get home.

I hated to leave but four hours under the blue tarp in the full gaze of the Looking Town sports world gave us all the public exposure we needed, so we called it good.

I turned the camera around and made one final shot or two for our posterity. Everyone was there at the field. At two o clock there might have been five hundred but now two or three thousand and more coming would be a reasonable estimate of the crowd.

We found ourselves going from a little bit of heaven to a little bit of Babylon. I'm sure something good will come from both extremes.

Elder Augustine Neves Kamara- They call him Elder

Elder Augustine Neves Kamara was born to Gibril Kamara who is a prominent Muslim in the little hilltop community of Looking Town, Kissy, Freetown, Sierra Leone, West Africa. Gibril serves as the unofficial medical advisor for the loosely knit collection of homes carved into the hillside.

Of the hundreds of homes, only about a dozen or two are accessible by car if conditions are good and another two dozen can be reached on a motor bike. When a home is built, laborers shovel a landing out of the hillside and then haul sand and cement and block and any other materials from the closest access point to the almost impassible road.

Gibril runs an unofficial drug store and treats the local people for their various ailments even though he is not licensed to do so but is a nurse. He has an extra bed or two if the need arises to keep someone for a day or more to care for them.

Augusta, his wife, is a Christian and listens to us. She likes to go to the local born again church five minutes from their home. That church has no lights and no amendments except for rough benches but it is close and loud during their services.

Two years ago these folks lost a little boy to some disease that probably would be treatable in the clinic back home. She was pregnant when we first met her and gave birth to this little boy at the end of November, 2010.

I thought it was time to show you just what Elder Neves, the Younger looks like. I've talked about the little guy a few times in our letters. We go by and make sure he's still doing well four or five times a week. He's growing up and responding when we make faces at him and act silly.

Gibril and Augusta asked us to give him a name and blessing and then said the name should be Elder Neves. Augusta, I think, took Gibril aside the night before we came and told Gibril how it was going to be with Augustine in there just in case they didn't want to be reminded of Elder Neves some time down the line.

Its been a long since he received his blessing and now I need to start documenting his stages a little bit better. I was going to show him being breast fed but thought better of the idea.

He's almost crawling around now but this most protected and pampered baby I've known here in Africa where the babies grow up quickly, often on their own, is carried everywhere he goes, mostly like Augusta is carrying him in the picture that follows.

I'm thinking of bringing him home with us when we come. Wes, will you start a college and mission fund for Elder Neves right away?

Doesn't he look like me just a little bit. The hair perhaps or the little cute nose? Maybe the eyes?

The next thing I want to do a bit on the Fayombo family and particularly these two little girls.

Finda and Lilian about nine and eleven

I I Also I wanted to show you the black girl that is threatening to break up our marriage. Her name is Balu but folks just refer to her as that black girl. See Pete and Mom in the background. This was during the filming of the lost boys by the Undermine.

She's already pushing  mom away but I'm fighting it as much as I am able. You won't get away with it, Little Girl!

This little girl is my other favorite, little Aminata Neves, my latest little darling. 

I will soon do a piece on her family and their baptisms.

This last photo is also a teaser showing Peter acting like a bad man in charge of Spirit Prison or maybe its the Telestial Kingdom welcoming Adama in. Notice her blue body recently acquired. Mom figured out a fine way to teach the youngsters the plan of salvation. Adama couldn't stop giggling and acting scared to death when he'd growl at her like he's doing. 

brooking clothes in Looking Town

Sister Neves, Peter, Ali, and a few other young men found ourselves in Looking Town one fine afternoon a few weeks ago. We stopped by Musu Sillah's home to teach little Adama and Kadi and a half dozen other fine little ones who live in the little home without doors or windows under the mango tree. (Adama Sillah 9 years old - baptized in December 2010 - we baptized her Mama Musu a month earlier)

It was as a breath of fresh air to sit there for an hour and teach a little and watch Sister Neves do the thing she loves to do best or second best after reading, which is to teach. (Peter Vandi Bassie Jr. is staring at me taking the picture- Kadiatu, daughter of Musu 7 years old is next to Peter - then a little neighborhood girl, Sister Neves, Musu with her damaged head partially hidden, Ali Kamara just baptized son of the Muslim Gibril has his hand on his head, Joseph with the crutch came by to visit, he's a member but doesn't attend always, and finally Abdul who's family is all Muslim. Musu and the rest of the extended family live in the home you see in the background.)

We then moved on to Isata a little further down the mountain to visit with the little mother of twins. 

While there I noticed a little scene being played out that was too good to pass up. Peter is always telling me, Elder Neves you're not a tourist. He reads the white bible if Sister Neves doesn't. (These four year old girls were totally unaware of the fact that we were interested in what they were doing. They were simply washing their clothes an hanging them up to dry. Their Momma had gone to the market to get some food for them all, rice, fish, and probably some peppers or potato leaves. Maybe she went to do a little bit of selling of something or another.

These little girls barely able to take care of themselves were doing the brooking absolutely by themselves without any adult supervision besides us tourists looking on in the background.

Once the sweethearts observed us watching and taking pictures it became a little bit more staged and the kids enjoyed the whole idea of performing. Most of the scene played itself out with the children being totally unaware that they were being watched. 

There is nothing quite as constant as the satisfaction of watching and photographing little children here in Africa. The little black faces lend do all the work themselves. These little girls saw us teaching and taking photos and wanted in on the action. I kind of staged them to pile up a little and look around the corner. They were all just coming back from school in their various uniforms.

This little one just felt like posing for us. She also was involved in the clothes washing. I'll try to get some names of the children in the pictures from now on. This is probably Aminata or Fatmata or Fatima or Mary or Isata all commonly used names.

Is this your mama or some movie star?

One fine afternoon Sister Neves said to me,
"Elder Neves, its time we explored the other
side of the island". To save a little bit of grief
and misery I said surely I will my sweetheart.

We went there once at night without any
idea of where we were going only following
tail lights but this time it was on our own.

We headed into Congo Cross by way of
King Harmon and pretty soon by golly we
were crossing the Aberdeen bridge where
the rebels had tossed over whomever they
didn't like.

The big Atlantic looks you right in the eye and
you can almost see the United States of America
from the bridge.












We traveled on around and for heck sakes found

ourselves at the old famous Lumley beach.
Sister Neves had to take her shoes off and give
her a tumble.





At first I thought it might be a little mermaid

coming in the distance.

As she came closer the mirage appeared more
and more like the woman I married back when
I married her.












The sea breeze does fine things to the little

sweetheart and she loves to walk the beach.













She has been asking to go back but unfortunately

we've been unable to find the time. I'll need to
go get it done in the next few days and let her get
some sand between her toes again.





The pictures don't show the beggars, the garbage,
or the burned out road behind the beach nor the
UN helicopters flying over occasionally.

Elder Gifford, my own personal hero, and Elder Dogbatse invited
Sister Neves and I to visit a fine gentleman they were teaching in
Kissie Town. He is little tailor and a fine man with whom we
became acquainted, Alimomy Bangura.

Elder Gifford has since gone home but is quiet and somewhat
solemn but was as hardworking and effective as any elder I've
met here or in Mexico forty years ago.

Elder Dogbatse from Ghana complements him very well and
is an excellent elder and a musician in his own right.

We participated with Alimomy a couple of times in his shop

since he lives very far away and it is easier to visit there than in
his home, particularly since his wife is a Muslim.

The Elders and Bangura invited us to come to the baptism in
Wellington but when we arrived a fine Saturday morning the
water was not available and we spent an hour waiting to make
a decision on where to go to get it done.










While I was waiting there it seemed a fine idea to clown around

with the camera and make the time pass more quickly. Bangura
and I had a fine time he loosened right up.

A little clutch of boys who are not members but just like to come
to church came by and made it even more fun while we spent a
little more time deciding what to do.

We finally decided to load up and go to Grafton and baptize in
the river there. The folks who live in a little home by the river
side were not members but for some reason Elder Gifford
figured they wouldn't mind sharing their river and home with
us.

So Sally and Bally and their two little babies were treated to a

fine bunch of Mormon folks and potential Mormon folks
as we took over their lives for an hour or two.







Sally even showed me how to wrap a little baby for the
carrying and then she started a fire for us and generally
carried on while we carried on.












                                                                                                                                                                We had a fine service and the baptisms were excellent even
though the President generally believes that these are best

done in the baptismal fonts in front of their potential
congregations. I believe he is correct in that reasoning
but it is interesting on a one time during a mission basis.

Alimomy has proven a fine member although he has a bad
case of malaria and we've been trying to do our best to help
him out. He lives high up on the mountain in Looking
Town and has little access to medical care and medicine.



                                                                      

                                                                        We've been there as often as we can to give what support

we can and to offer our prayers and comfort. Our personal
Utes often accompany us on these trips.














Usually we take a long hard trip home through Kissie Road

which in good times takes eighteen minutes and in bad times
it has taken up to three hours. Mom is usually ready to
strangulate me by the time we arrive home.

Mother and I are doing a good job for two fat white folks
of trying to fit in to the culture and to the work here
among our good black brethren and sisters.



                                                                                                                                                                                                      








I don't think I'd want to be anywhere else right now but

here. Often I'll look down at my hands and am surprised
to see that they are white and not black.












It might be nice for a few minutes to see
the little ones at home but we'll just
have to make do with what we have

here for now.