“Thanksgiving” has a unique meaning here, different from the U.S. holiday. I can’t say if it’s common throughout Africa, but in Nigeria a family or individual can request a Thanksgiving service to 1) celebrate an occasion like a birthday, anniversary, or recent marriage, or 2) celebrate a blessing; success in an endeavor or good outcome from surgery or illness. There may be one celebrant or several, and depending on time constraints members may be able to give personal testimonies. It’s a custom I would love to see transplanted to my own country.
In the past year Brian and I have attended a number of thanksgivings. One was given by a young man in our church who scored the winning goal in the U20 African Cup. Two were 50th birthday celebrations for wives of Nigerian friends, and two were widows from Gidan Bege. They all follow a similar format. At some point the celebrant is introduced. He or she walks to the back of the church where friends, family members and invited guests gather. Special music is played and the celebrant leads the procession dancing to the front. Sometimes there’s an opportunity for personal testimony to God’s kindness or faithfulness. Then the whole group troops back to their seats, leaving an offering in a big chest or basket as they go. The funds are for the church, not the celebrant, and God is given the glory.
The birthday thanksgivings were splendid affairs with catered parties before or after for friends and family members. The widows’ thanksgivings were on a humbler scale, but more touching. The first was for Tabitha, who had surgery for a fibroid tumor which Jocelyn paid for from ministry funds. Tabitha recovered and her thanksgiving was public praise for God’s blessing. The last one we attended was for Tina, a memorial for her police officer husband who was killed in the line of duty ten years ago. (She is still fighting with the government for his pension.)
Tina was left with six children. With God’s help she has so far managed to send them all to school. (The youngest is now in the third grade.) Her oldest son is a night guard at the widow’s sewing school, and took a loan under my tenure to pay for his driver’s license fees. (The ability to drive significantly increases a young man’s chances of obtaining employment.) Since I have known Tina her mother suffered a severe head injury in a motorcycle taxi accident, spent several weeks in the hospital, and still requires constant care. One of her nieces accused Tina of witchcraft, saying that she “pressed upon her,” which sent the young woman to the hospital in pain. Last week Tina’s daughter was struck by a car. Fortunately she came away with only cuts and bruises. Even though the thanksgiving service was in Hausa, Tina’s sincere gratitude to God was evident to all.
For me the highlight of the day was seeing Jocelyn and all the widows from Gidan Bege gather to dance forward with Tina. Two were wearing new dresses I had seen them working on at the sewing school. The family handed out memorial calendars with pictures of Tina’s late husband, Tina, and all six of their children. Afterward everyone followed Tina home to her compound, where she and her children share a one bedroom/sitting room with a cement floor. Drinks and a generous meal were provided.
I remember Ladi once saying that Nigerians mourn with those who mourn and celebrate with those who celebrate. They’ve grasped and practice a wonderful precept of community life.
Live from Jos,
Karen
