Archive for September, 2011

Adam Where Are You?

That question was asked by God Himself in one of the Bible’s earliest recorded conversations with man. This question is today directed to all men, especially we Christian men.  A lot has been said about the boy child, whose future is somewhat compromised by, ironically, the focus on the girl child and women’s issues. This is not an attempt at downplaying women’s suffrage, no. In a major response to this long standing social imbalance it can be argued that the media, policy makers and society as a whole has probably shifted focus across the gender divide and ignored the boy child. This, in my humble view, portends a bigger crisis than the first due to the following deposition.

The boy child fiasco is society’s problem that cannot be fully understood unless it is contextualized. My perception is that the boy child issue is a constituent part of the larger manhood crisis. While the boy’s issues will manifest a little later, the underpinning cause is embodied in what his father is going through right now.  Men are far much different from women and this is a reality we are beginning to acknowledge. Marriage counselors and teaching pastors have begun to emphasize these differences as emerging from God’s purpose in creation. Man’s perceived dominance masks his needs. It is assumed that he has his way anyway. So my question begs, why does a man sit in the pub from 5pm till midnight, then stagger home in a drunken stupor? At what point did he give up being the hero of the family, the direction giver, protector and teacher of his own household? Why is the woman today left making all decisions and doing his share of the work, up to and including raising his sons? For as long as they are toddlers, they are safe with their mother. At some point in their development they will need the male role model.  I am driven to think that men are more femininely dressed these days due to lack of adequate male influence during childhood.

In light of the aforementioned, some activists have quickly whipped up outfits like Maendeleo ya Wanaume, which is a comical shadow of the great women’s movement that has revolutionized banking, immigration and property ownership matters in favor of women, to name a few.  But that dissenting voice must not be ignored else we will have tipped the scales and let the man and the boy slide right out the window.  The media, and its peculiar focus on what makes news, has ingrained stereotyped thinking in the mind of society. Try and answer these questions honestly: Can a male be raped? Is there rape in marriage?

Still on stereotypes, a boy is not expected to cry because ‘men don’t cry.’ It takes a sensitive society to acknowledge that although his tears may not show, he bleeds internally. This is far much more dangerous because the damage incurred may never be noticed until too late. We hear of wife beating but cannot comprehend that there are also serious cases of husband beating. ‘Male victim of domestic violence’ sounds like a misnomer. I cannot even begin to enumerate the impact that would have on the poor man’s sons. Some sayings are nothing short of disparaging remarks at manhood and a common one goes: Educate-a-man-and-waste-your-money, educate a-girl-and-you’ve-educated-a-village.

The role of the man in a healthy society must not be ignored, even when he cannot or will not fulfill his obligations. It must be accorded the status of a high office that is charged with several responsibilities. The failure in society does not in any way rest with the government but with the institution that must define society, namely the family unit. This is, in the Bible’s prescription, headed by none other than the man. He can be aptly described as the hub on which the wheel turns. The man is responsible for providing leadership, direction, order, strength and discipline.

Society must answer these questions. Why are we churning out an army of single women? Who is going to be the father and father-figure of those children born into difficult circumstances? Of course not everyone raised by a single mother is going to turn out problematic, but our current scenario is still a deviation from the norm. The norm which is two adults, male and female, providing parenting function to children. Sadly, one is frequently missing.

Adam, where are you? Society must answer this question, and loudest in response must be the church, the pillar of Christian rectitude. I write to you, not sitting on a high pedestal of moral perfection and supremacy, but as one plagued with this question at a personal level.

Yes, I ask myself, “Adem, where are you?”

Jesus is on Facebook

I recently met a man whose life experience was truly inspirational. We were sitting in a dilapidated matatu that plies our route, and while waiting to fill up at the noisy bus station, I started a conversation to carry us through while the crew frantically called out for passengers. An easy topic to begin with was the state of the economy and escalating food prices and politics.

“So how was your day?” I began rather nervous, carefully choosing my words.

“Fine, thank you!” came the raspy but hearty reply, slightly sounding like a charismatic preacher. Then the inevitable silence fell. Two men seated next to each other, stranded in a half-filled matatu, suspicious, uncomfortable and lacking substance for conversation.  It’s just that men, unlike women, do not open us so easily due to matters of security, self image and social status.

What if he was gay? Or what if he began an endless discourse on the joys of giving, ending his monologue with a direct solicitation for something small for the ministry? I know that feeling when people cast sideways glances at you for trying to be sociable. But just as my mind was getting swamped with endless possibilities, suddenly he spoke up.

“Jesus is on Facebook,” he chirped, as-a-matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“I said Jesus is on Facebook.”

Now my suspicions were confirmed. You know that verse that says don’t believe guys who tell you Christ is back in such and such a place?

I shifted my light frame preparing a counterattack. My index finger was already in the air when he cut me short.

“Have you been to hell and back?” the raspy voice was a little louder.

“Wha…I mean…How do you mean?” I stuttered.

“I have been to hell and back.”

“Do tell, I am curious,” my eyebrows shot skywards.

“Well everything went wrong,” he continued, a broad infectious smile sprawling across his wrinkled face. He painted a grim picture on the canvas of my mind and I think my greatest struggle was not what had transpired in his life but how he could sit there so calmly and recount the most heart wrenching account I ever heard. Forget Job, this guy had seen worse. Mrs. Raspy Voice had literally shot at him and had not missed the side of his head. After eight hours in surgery the doctor announced he would make it, but without hearing in his right ear. His employer terminated him citing the usual down-sizing, and the whole severance package went into the medical bills.

As if that was not enough, the cantankerous wife had moved on with a younger man, a truck driver. The property they had been working on clearing was repossessed. The elder son, responding to pressure from bad company, had rolled their car in an accident. Two kids died in the process. The car was a write off, but worse, the young man was given 5 years for wreckless driving. The younger one took his life after a stormy relationship with a foreign girl he’d travelled with recently on a trip to the coast. They had met on Facebook.

Na bado,” continued my friend. “And there’s more.” And his speech of a paintbrush continued the agonizing revelation. Prostate cancer, bankruptcy, and separation plagued this man.

I wasn’t sure I was listening any more.

“I am moving into a small house,” he gladly announced, patting the small brown travelling bag wedged between his bony knees. Shouldn’t he be seeking refuge upcountry? No, his wider family has ostracized him because of his new-found belief.

I was totally flummoxed. I managed to gasp, “And what do you believe?”

“Jesus is alive and well,” he announced boldly and proudly. “And I met Him on Facebook. You see, I used a cyber-café attendant to find out what goes on online. And I found Christians sharing notes and encouraging each other. So I thought, this thing took my son – how can it offer me solutions?  The attendant left me for a moment but he ran a video clip of a pastor who was speaking about salvation alone in Christ. He spoke from Roman 10:7… that if you confess with your mouth ‘Jesus is Lord’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. I received Christ!”

While my religious mind reeled the matatu filled up and roared off towards our homes in the hills west of the city. He looked forward at the traffic, humming a familiar tune. I couldn’t remember the last time I sang it, despite my 15 years in mainstream church. As I grappled for the words, the silent hymn resonated powerfully with something in me. It was like something came alive in me!

Raspy hummed on as I finally made out the words, “I will cling to the old rugged cross, and exchange it someday for a crown.”

Yes, Jesus is on Facebook.