The Central, Eastern and Southern Africa orientation (40/40) was moved from Kenya to Zambia in part because of some safety concerns.  While we participated in the “daily field assignments” we noticed that the Zambian with whom we came in contact were very friendly, open and willing to talk with us and listen to our stories and questions.  Indeed, Zambia seemed safe.  In fact, the matatus (minibus taxi) in Zambia were much, much safer than those we have seen and ridden in Kenya!

 

However, there were a couple of occasions when we dealt with real fear.  The first time we became afraid was during our ten-day stay at the seminary in the city of Lusaka.  One night at exactly 2:30 AM local time, I was awakened by something.  It was just like someone or something was in the room.  My senses were heightened as is common at night when you think you’ve heard something.  In those moments the wings of butterflies can sound like airplanes!  My heart raced as I lay in bed trying to determine if the moving object in the room was a person.  Fortunately, it was only a bath towel hanging from the clothes line, being blown by the fan.  I prayed for God’s protection, nevertheless, and eventually went back to sleep almost an hour and a half later.

 

The next night, though, I was awakened at exactly 2:30 AM again.  It was the same experience...like someone or something was in the room.  That time God brought to my mind many of the Psalms I had been reading during my “quiet time.”  So I prayed God’s words about His being a refuge, a rock, a shield, etc.  Again, after about an hour or so, I returned to sleep.  However, the same thing happened the next two nights.  I didn’t want to tell Diana because I knew that knowledge would only add to her stress, plus I didn’t want to admit that I was scared at night.

 

For four straight nights I experienced this fear, all the while trying to live by my words that I trusted God and was victorious over my enemies in Christ Jesus.  The next day, our group had a lecture by a fourth-generation “white” Zambian, Pete Fisher.  His great-grandfather came to Zambia following the great David Livingstone.  He shared with us about the spirit world in African Traditional Religion (ATR).  His stories were bizarre and scary, even unbelievable.  He told us that even if we write these occurrences off as coincidence, for the average African, “It’s the first thing you think about, the last thing you consider every day.”  He claimed that the traditional healer (i.e., medicine man, witch doctor) is the most powerful person in a village.  Part of the reason for his position is that desperation for healing or relief from oppression and/or suffering will drive people to the traditional medicine man for immediate healing.  In most cases, people see immediate results.  

 

People also use the traditional healer as a means of getting revenge or carrying out “justice” on someone else.  Every death has a cause.  We would all say, “No duh!”  But for many Africans gripped by traditional beliefs, when a person dies, he died because someone else caused him to die.  In other words, they suspect that someone cursed that person and then accusations are made.

 

We also learned that much of the traditional beliefs are “open secrets.”  That is, they are all known, but are never shared, especially to a mzungu.  For instance, the beating of drums has traditional significance beyond just musical style.  Drums are used in ATR to induce a trance through which something can be projected onto someone.  In almost all cases, that something is demonic.

 

After the lecture, I was pretty sure that what had been waking me up was not just the squeaky fan or laundry.  I recalled that just four days before, I had tried to visit a traditional healer, but he was not in the home.  I asked Mr. Fisher his opinion.  He replied, “It very well could be the enemy.  I cannot say it is not.  In fact, the enemy knows why you are here.  He knows what God is able to accomplish through you.  Maybe God has great things in store through you.  So don’t doubt for a minute that Satan won’t do whatever he can to scare you off.”

 

I immediately went into town and found an internet cafe, emailed some of our key prayer warriors who passed on the word, and asked people to pray hard for our protection and for peaceful rest.  That very night was a great night of sleep!  In fact, the awakenings stopped.  Well, kind of...

 

When we traveled to the tent camp in Petauke, we experienced our second scare of the trip.  I think it was the 3rd or 4th night, sometime around midnight or 1 AM, that the drums began.  It wasn’t pleasant, rhythmic, or soothing.  Instead, it was wild, unceasing pounding.  And it sounded like it was getting louder and moving closer!  Then, there was a second set of drumming from a different direction.  I asked Diana, “Psst! Diana.  Are you awake?”  She said, as though I asked a stupid question, “Uh...yes!”  So I asked another dumb question:  “Can you hear the drums?”  She replied, “Yes.  Why, are you scared?”  I had to be honest this time and said “Yes.”  But I was praying...and I had my hand on my knife as I was going through all I learned during contingency training in Richmond!  The drums lasted for a long time.  

 

The next morning we were told that the drums were most likely for one of two occasions.  First, the drums could have been used to drive away the spirits or at least the ailments they may cause.  Second, the drums could have been used to invite spirits to attach themselves to young women in order to enhance their sexual ability.  It didn’t matter which option was correct...both were demonic!!!

 

The last two nights at the tent camp we had to endure the “demon drums.” The last night they lasted from about 8 PM to 8 AM!

 

We are thankful that God allowed us to experience these things.  We learned that we can trust God to protect His children.  We had confirmed for us that “greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world!”  We learned that God brings to our minds His Word and that we can use it because it is truth!  We learned that God uses faithful followers like those of you who prayed for us!  We also were inspired to write a little Christmas jingle.  I like to call it “The Little Demon Drummer Boy.”

 

Come, they told me (parumpapumpum)

A wazungu-thing to see (parumpapumpum)

All packed in a lorry (parumpapumpum)

To tell us their story (parumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum)

 

All our secrets (parumpapumpum)

We vowed to keep inside (parumpapumpum)

The truth we tried to hide (parumpapumpum)

In them we can’t confide (parumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum)

 

Someone told them (parumpapumpum)

About our dancing throngs (parumpapumpum)

So I shall beat a song (parumpapumpum)

I’ll beat it all night long (parumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum)

 

So I started (parumpapumpum)

To bang my drums for them (parumpapumpum)

I banged like a crazed, wild man (parumpapumpum)

I banged with no rhythm (parumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum)

 

When I was finished (parumpapumpum)

playing our demon dance (parumpapumpum)

were they all in a trance? (parumpapumpum)

Or so scared they messed their pants? (parumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum)

Demon drums!

 

Merry Christmas!