From our letter of April 15, 1995 

"Give me my son. You know I did not give my permission for this. Why did you take him? I will not allow the sacrifice to continue."

Francis stood in the center of the circle of villagers, his own people, who couldn't understand.

"Why do you insist on doing this? He is your own son, don't you care for him? You have already offended the spirits by not observing the traditions when he was born. Now see how sick he is. You must go ahead with the sacrifice to appease them."

Little Ayomide was not yet four months old, yet he was already the center of conflict, a conflict which had begun, in fact, before his birth. Some of his mother's relatives, not agreeing with her marrying Francis, had set a curse on her, saying that if she married she would never bear a child. When Ayomide was born in December the curse seemed broken, yet within ten days the baby started vomiting, and wouldn't stop.

The family lives in a remote area of Nigeria, at the base of the Koma hills, and belongs to the tribespeople of the hills. Their remote ancestors had fled from the lowlands to the hills under the pressure of invading Hausa and Fulani warriors. Since then their location in the rugged hills had protected them not only from those invaders, but also from most contact with civilization and modern life.

Life there is harsh and short. Many women die in childbirth and when they do, the babies are often left to die, or even buried with their mothers. As in most of Africa, people see the world as governed by a multitude of spirits and impersonal powers. A person's well-being depends on how he or she stays on good terms with the spirits through observing traditions and rituals, and avoiding or countering harmful witchcraft.

Francis and Rebecca's families, living at the edge of the hills rather than in the highlands, knew just a little more about the outside world. Both Francis and Rebecca had attended a primary school for a couple of years, run by a Nigerian missionary, Timothy. When he was forbidden to attend the school, Francis kept visiting Timothy's house at night where he continued learning from the Bible, and committed himself to faith in Christ.

Francis and Rebecca don't know their ages but appear to be in their late teens, without many resources of their own. When the baby kept vomiting, Francis took him to several clinics, where health workers gave him a variety of medications and injections. Once he seemed better for a few days, but otherwise the problem persisted. He didn't seem sick in other ways, but was always irritable and hungry. He sucked well, and his mother seemed to have plenty of milk, but whenever he ate he vomited. Instead of gaining weight, he was slowly but surely wasting away.

The relatives and other villagers told the young parents, "See, this is not the kind of problem that pills and injections can cure. It is because you have left the traditional way, and won't perform the required rituals and sacrifices to the idols. Go ahead and take him to the temple, make the sacrifices, and maybe he can be cured."

Francis stubbornly refused, though his wife was less sure of what to do. "You must not sacrifice for him. He is my son and I will not allow it."

"If you don't want to pay for the rituals, don't worry," the others said. "We will pay. We will bring the goat, the beer for the priests, and the money. Just let us do it, so the boy can get better."

"It is not a question of the cost," answered Francis. "We don't believe in the idols, but in the one true God."

In the face of such intransigence, the people resorted to various tricks. At one point they persuaded the father to let the mother and baby go for "just a visit" to the relatives, then tried to perform the rituals without Francis's knowledge.

Finally, the girl's mother confronted Francis. "You have renounced your son by refusing the sacrifices. So be it. So now we are taking back your wife, as well. From now on she will live with us."

There was nothing Francis could do. He tried to keep Ayomide himself for a day or two after Rebecca was taken away, but realized that it was impossible, since he couldn't feed the baby. So finally he sent the boy back to his wife and her family. Despite his resistance, he now thinks the relatives probably did perform some rituals during that time. Still, the baby just kept fading away.

In March a visitor arrived, Dr. Paul Ushie, one of the Nigerian doctors at Evangel Hospital. When we first came to Nigeria, Dr. Ushie was in the family practice training program at Evangel. Since then he has finished the training and is now on our regular staff. For several years he has been visiting the people of the Koma hills, supporting the Nigerian missionaries in their church planting work, and providing what medical care he can on his short visits of a few days.

When Dr. Ushie saw Ayomide's shriveled body and heard the story, he thought he knew what the problem was. "Your baby doesn't need medicine, he needs an operation. You have to take him to a big hospital for that."

"How much will that cost?" asked Francis.

Dr. Ushie tried to be as optimistic as possible, while thinking of the various expenses of hospitalization. "You'll have to collect at least 2000 naira ($US 27), and get him to the hospital." Transportation itself would be expensive, and the taxis and buses from the nearest town only come on Saturdays, market day.

To Francis the cost seemed impossible. He had almost nothing. As Dr. Ushie had advised, he went to relatives and friends to borrow money, but got little support. "Two thousand naira," the wife's mother laughed, "and you wouldn't spend a few hundred naira for sacrifices? You won't get a kobo (penny) from me." After a week he had collected only two hundred naira, not even enough for the journey.

When Dr. Ushie told us the story on his return, we knew we had to help. Of course we know we can't help every child in Nigeria, but here was a child already seen by our own doctor, and with a problem which was probably curable by a single operation. We were able to underwrite all the expenses with funds provided by our supporters. Timothy, who had come to visit family, was happy to make the 2 day return trip to the Koma area to bring the baby and parents to Evangel.

Two weeks later we were all sitting around our living room hearing the whole story. When Ayomide had arrived at Evangel he weighed only five pounds, eight ounces, though he was four months old. As expected, the problem had been a blocked outlet of the stomach (pyloric stenosis). Dr. Bill Ardill, our surgeon, had successfully corrected the defect, and the baby had stopped vomiting. Now he was eating voraciously, and already visibly improved. The next day the family was to return home.