Living in the Horn of Africa, hearing about unrest in one
area or another is rarely a surprise. We knew when we moved here that the
region is home to many different religions, tribes, and cultures and can often
be turbulent. Most disputes happen over land, fighting over which tribes have
control, and then retaliation from the other tribes- All of which is rooted in
pride. Aside from the civil war that has been going on for over a year and a half, this past spring, the most common unrest was due to religious conflicts. The most
prominent religions in this region are Islam, Christianity (Orthodox and
Protestant), and Animist. In April, the Orthodox Church celebrated its Easter
Holiday, and the Muslims celebrated Eid, the end of Ramadan a week later. During
the week leading up to Easter, many Orthodox Churches were burned or faced Muslim
protesters. In one town, we heard about a hotel that was bombed while hosting a
big Easter banquet.
We traveled east from the capital to the town we used to
live in during the week between Easter and Eid. We had a wonderful time
visiting with our friends! We only spent the weekend traveling on Friday and
Monday, so we had to make the most of our time there. Our friends had big plans
for us, activities to do, shops to visit, and markets to see, but as soon as we
arrived, we heard about a disturbance on the opposite side of town. Knowing the
neighborhoods, we assumed that the conflict was between Christians and Muslims,
and once our friends made some phone calls, our assumptions were confirmed. While
fighting disrupted our plans for the weekend, we still made the best of the little
time we had with our friends!
We traveled back to the capital on Monday, leaving town at 4
am for the long journey. That Monday was Eid, the big holiday that Muslims
celebrate after their month of fasting. As we journeyed across the country, it
was fun to pass through village after village, with the locals dressed in their
holiday best, out greeting their neighbors, children playing with their new
gifts while the adults made their way to the Mosque for prayer. Every Mosque we
passed, I noticed, had guards, police, or soldiers posted outside patting
people down before allowing them to enter. Occasionally there would be a police
officer on the road, slowing traffic as crowds of people walked to the Mosque.
In one town, we were stopped and forced to park off the road. All traffic in
both directions had been halted for miles so that people in the smaller mountainside
villages could walk to the Mosque in town.
Our bus pulled off and parked in a gas station to wait. We
watched for over an hour as thousands of villagers walked down the road,
dressed in their holiday best, joyfully shouting and chanting “Allahu Akbar,”
praising Allah for seeing them through this month of fasting. The general sense
was celebratory! I would be lying, though, if I didn’t admit to feeling a
little fear and tension when truck loads of men overtook the road and continued
the chanting. It would have only taken one small thing to happen to turn this
celebration from joy to violence, especially knowing all the unrest that had
already occurred over the previous weeks. THANKFULLY! Nothing happened! Once
the crowd died, we could get back on the road without problems or further hold-ups.
We still had at least eight more hours of travel, and it
gave me a lot of time to think and pray about the thousands of people I had just
witnessed celebrating a false religion and how that was just a fraction of the
Muslims celebrating around the world. How many Muslims in the street that day
had never heard the truth of the Gospel? How many men in that truck will file
into the Mosque, bow their heads in prayer to Allah, and never be able to
call Him Father? I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics to the song, “Facing
the Task Unfinished,” that talk about unnumbered souls dying and passing into
the night. Just like the song, knowing that so many still have never heard the
name of Jesus drives me to my knees and fuels me to labor for His sake.
