Tuesday, February 14th, 2006
Demolishment of neighborhoods is not uncommon in Nigeria, especially in its capital, Abuja. There is construction everywhere and if there’s one thing right the government is doing, it’s building new roads, buildings, and other infrastructure. Unfortunately it’s with not a lot of compassion. It was sad to hear that one of the synagogues had recently fallen to this fate, and displaced its community. It’s a feat to build a synagogue here, and I’m sure heartbreaking to watch it collapse after many years of hard work and fighting against the odds. But the Nigerian Jews are a resilient group and most of the members have found other communities. Most have joined the Gion synagogue which is where we visited today.
At the end of a long dirt road and situated upon a hill, the congregation is still under construction but something tells me that the building’s current state has been like this for a while and won’t change too fast. There are no doors, nor windows, and the floor is made of mother earth, but it’s constant dry heat in this area so there’s little concern for the elements. There are no books, nor many objects. The point is that none of this really matters because the people inside are beaming with joy, and gather here weekly for Shabbat prayers and songs. We were greeted, introductions were made, snacks were shared, and then were treated to a rousing array of melodies of Hebrew songs. That certain feeling of overwhelming-why-are-my-eyes-tearing-up overcame me when the group started dancing in step to a familiar song. The sound was amazing and you were almost glad that there were no windows, so nothing could be contained. A quick interview with the Elder of the community, a Geologist by profession, capped the visit.
On the way back to Habbakkuk’s home, we stopped at the Abuja Bus Station to buy our tickets for our journey tomorrow. Howard and I will be traveling on a Greyhound-type bus with Elder Elam, while the rest of the group will come by the green mini van system. These mini vans are privately owned and pick up people along the road and transport them from village to village. I’ve never seen one that isn’t packed beyond capacity with people and goods, sometimes with people hanging off the sides. I worry about the safety of our friends traveling this way.
Back at the compound, the afternoon was free which meant plenty of time for the last of the interviews I wanted to conduct in Abuja. Pinchus was first who shared some of the troubles he was facing practicing Judaism at home. He and his wife had met in the Christian faith, married that way, and began raising his children as Christians. He discovered Judaism a few years ago, and felt immediately at home.
Elders Efraim, Elam & Habbakkuk as we travel through Abuja.
I also interviewed Habba Kkuk’s eldest daughter, Hannah, who like almost all Nigerian children are warm and friendly with hugs and touching, but extremely shy to speak. Children don’t seem to be given much of a voice here, and are still disciplined physically. Most who I have met seem to be somewhat meek, but I did squeeze one or two interesting thoughts out of Hannah and her sisters. Assuredly different from the Woody Allen version.
He has embraced the faith and his new community. His wife and children have not. He goes to synagogue on Saturday, she to church on Sunday. Keeping kosher at home is an issue. The bigger issue is the divisiveness in the family – something that will take much time to figure out. I shared that several members of my immediate and extended family had married outside the faith, and were enjoying the sharing of two cultures, but were not dissimilar in the constant negotiations. I’m not sure it made him feel any better.
Shaoul was the last interview and one of the more interesting. With a supreme knowledge of African geography, he has taught me much about Nigeria and the rest of Africa, and has engaged me in many off-camera discussions on a variety of topics which were enlightening and enjoyable.
Our last night in Abuja was not without ceremony, but this time Jewish, rather than Nigerian. Howard presented the group with a Mezuzah to affix to the doorpost of the synagogue. It’s hard to fathom a synagogue in operation in North America without a mezuzah, but here Jewish items are impossible to find. Everyone present took a turn swinging the hammer at the nail, thus contributing to the foundation of the synagogue, and coming a little closer to Jewish ritual. I don’t have to tell you that immediately following was an hour of singing, dancing, and beer all around.
When everyone went to bed, I went and joined CJ, Shmuel and Shmuel Okuma for some late night conversation. All are aspiring leaders, rabbis and have been mentored by Habbakkuk. Perhaps it was the beer, perhaps it was my comfort, but I spoke freely about my disappointment when Shmuel Okuma offered his opinions on the roles of women, gay and lesbians, and uncircumcised men in his community. Women – allowed if appropriately dressed and happy to not take a leadership role, gays and lesbians and the uncircumcised – forget it. I offered examples from home of the great contributions of my diverse synagogue, in addition to the Jewish belief in respect for one another, and the importance of unity and community. Dismissed as Western thought. I didn’t relent but yet I somehow didn’t want to play the role of Colonial Master converting the masses either.
Shmuel from Port Hartcourt didn’t seem to weary of my liberal views, and we engaged in discussion til the wee hours of the morning. Getting to know him better, I am impressed by him on so many levels. I knew he was intelligent, extremely well-read and had charismatic good looks, but beyond that is an evenness, a humbleness and gentleness that I haven’t seen in anyone else so far. He is devoted to his community, his faith, his elders (within reason) and his own personal goals. I think he will make a great leader, and I think this evening established a strong friendship.
Hannah
