Life as I Knew it

In Recollection of my First Bicycle - Part 1                     

Written by John David Magee, the son of missionaries John and Doris Magee who served in Nigeria from 1945 – 1978.

 

Around the summer of 1950, my family was into our first tour at Igede, Ekiti, which was a big adjustment from the previous tour at the Baptist College campus at Iwo. At Iwo, my mode of transportation around the compound between our house and my buddies' residences (Conrad Roberson; Roger Congdon; John Whirley) was on a hobby horse, or similar foot travel. It's just amazing that none of us kids ever encountered the big cobra and mamba snakes that would easily have done us in.

When my folks hauled my brother, Sidney, and me to Igede, we learned what real bush was. I recall our first trip to the old fourteen-acre compound, to the big house that Missionary Donath had built. Nearly two thousand feet above sea level in the hills and rain forest of Ekiti country. This was to be my home for the rest of my days in Nigeria, until I returned home to the States in 1957 at the age of fourteen.

The Humphreys traveled with us that first trip. Rachael Humphreys was my mother's sister. She and her husband, Ed, had arrived in Nigeria after we had returned to the States from Tour number one, so my folks had never met Ed until our return to Nigeria in 1949, soon after; they accompanied us to our new mission station. I recall the first night, mainly because of the tree dogs that barked all over the place, which I had never heard before. They made an incredible sound; one that always sent me under the covers, with chills down my back. From what appeared to be a great distance away, they would begin their routine with a series of snapping-clacking sounds, punctuated at the end by a single bark. This was repeated maybe a dozen times, each time with the snapping sounds getting louder and more and more slow, like a clock winding down, with the bark at the end getting louder each time too. Suddenly, they would break out into this fast, extended series of barks, which would get slower towards the end. This, they repeated seven or eight times, each time slower, and louder, until finally there was a loud single bark, then silence. In all my years in Nigeria I never saw one of these critters, so I always imagined the worst.

My folks managed to provide Sidney and me with basic kid transportation for us to use around the yard, including a pretty nice, red tricycle from Sears; the standard red wagon; and, a little peddle scooter. My mom had a bike, and some of our Nigerian help pushed me around the yard on this adult-sized bike until I gradually gained the sense of balance required for two wheels. Because it was a bike designed for women, I learned how to stand on one of the pedals, and push myself along somewhat like a scooter, thereby learning to coast by myself for short distances. Finally, I was ready for my own bicycle.

I don't remember where my folks got the bike, but probably the city of Ibadan or some similar large shopping place. But I do remember that the bicycle was a black Hercules, just my size, and man, was I excited! 

 

 

Confessions of a Prayer Warrior

“I will remain in the world no longer, but they are still in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name, the name you gave me, so that they may be one as we are one.” John 17:11(NIV)

This passage is from a prayer Jesus prayed at the last supper. He was praying for His disciples and other followers yet to come. He prayed that we, His followers, would be one just like He and the Father were one.

Becoming one with other believers is not always easy, especially if those believers live in a strange land, speak a strange tongue, and have different customs, languages, and even skin color from you. When my parents served as missionaries in Nigeria, they and the other missionaries worked at becoming one with the people among whom they lived and ministered.

When I was eight years old, I made a profession of faith in Jesus and wanted to be baptized. Being a doctor, my father felt he should not be the one to baptize me, but desired instead to have me baptized by a minister. Though there were other missionary ministers he could have asked, he chose to ask Reverend Asaju, the hospital chaplain. Here is the man’s response as written in a thank you note to my parents which they still posses.

In a letter dated, 11/12/67 from Rev. Asaju , the chaplain of the Baptist Hospital Ogbomosho.  Address: Ogbomosho Baptist Hospital, Ogbomosho Nigeria, Po. Box 15.

Dear Dr. & Mrs. T. K. Edwards,

            The occasion of yesterday afternoon was one of those I will never forget in my life for the meaning it has for me and for the cause of Christ in this land.

            Your daughter was the first American Baptist Missionary I had the privilege to baptize. The most important thing about it is this – that oneness in Christ you preach is practicalized. That is you prove to us that you do not say by mouth that you love the Nigerians but you demonstrate it. May the love of Christ continue to flow through you to many more in this land as you dedicate your lives for the service of our Lord, Amen.

                                                                                                I am,

                                                                                                     Sincerely Yours,

                                                                                                             D.A.Asju