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The Blind See

We were led to West Africa, where Mamajan awaited God to fulfill His promise “. . . seek, and you will find.”

Based on a story by an Alliance marketplace ministries worker serving in West Africa

For years, Mamajan sat in the same spot. Six days a week, from 7 a.m. till noon, his head cocked upward, opaque eyes wide open—he waited.

This blind Fulani (a.k.a. Fula) beggar is a landmark in his city—like the motionless house of worship at which he stares, whose tall, thin towers peer sightless toward the vast sea.

Waiting for Answers

“Adama adores her daddy,” says the author. “She is fearless with her Baaba beside her; with her, he faces the world head-on.” (Photo courtesy of the author)

Mamajan’s seven-year-old daughter, Adama Wurri, faithfully leads him each morning across ditches and through heavy traffic to his spot atop a flight of 150 green-and-white tiled stairs. She spreads her Baaba’s tattered pink hanky, anchoring each corner with a small rock.

As worshipers hurry past him on their way to morning prayers, Mamajan waits on his frayed plastic prayer mat with his many questions, listening for answers that do not come. His eyes see nothing, yet he understands many things.

Evil—when passersby give him poisoned food
Greed—when a mere penny is dropped in his drifting hand
Compassion—when sugar cubes are placed on his hanky

Years ago when his oldest child (Adama’s older brother) was stillborn, Mamajan began to go blind, slowly, one eye at a time. His body became riddled with pain; then the serpents came—black demons in the night, bringing torment and terror.

When Mamajan’s mind began to spiral out of control, Almighty God intervened and said, “It’s time.”

Destiny

Across the globe, plane tickets were bought. Prayers were prayed, suitcases packed, goodbyes shared, tears shed. My husband and I were headed to West Africa, moving into our destiny because someone was waiting for God to be faithful to His promise “. . . seek, and you will find . . .”

On the day I march into Mamajan’s world on my daily walk, I am dressed in my husband’s oversized socks (I forgot to pack mine) and my worn tennis shoes.

Day 1:  I notice Adama and Mamajan, who sits atop the tiled stairs leading down to the house of worship at which he stares without seeing.

Day 2:  I observe the two and pray for them.

Day 3:  I remove a 100-franc coin from my pocket, drop it into his smooth hand, and keep walking.

Day 4:  I give them extra francs; I ask their names, which I promptly forget—mama-something?

Day 5:  I plunk down on the dirty sidewalk, take a pen out of my back pocket, and write “Mamajan Bah” and “Adama Wurri” on a small, crumpled piece of paper. Instead of money, I hand the blind seer a tiny memory card.

He can listen to it on a cell phone, I tell him. “It’s a chip—smaller than my thumbnail with stories as big as all of eternity.”

Day 6: I pull up a flat rock upon which I sit across from Mamajan. And we talk, really talk—in Pular. We discuss the words of life he listened to the night before on his memory card. He tells me how, in the midnight hour, he fights against the demons that seek to strangle the life out of him.

Terror Ends

As the weeks pass, I pray for his healing, for freedom from darkness, for the gift of eternal life. God begins to pour light and blessing into Mamajan’s soul, spirit, body, and mind.

As I pray for the living water to fill Mamajan and Adama’s cupped hands, his heart begins to overflow with forgiveness—the tormentor’s power is broken. His nightmares and terrors end. The pain leaves.

Mamajan was baptized in December, surrounded by a small group of Fulani believers. He cannot see with his physical eyes, but he now gazes upon the face of Jesus every day. His long wait is over.

Pray

“Thank you for the part you played in introducing Mamajan to Jesus,” said the author to her family’s prayer supporters. Praying for peoples of the world like the Fulani/Fula—who most lack access to the gospel—is an effective way for Alliance people to help fulfill the Great Commission.

Learn More

Check out marketplace ministries.

Read about a Fulani woman who came to Christ in Guinea, where about one half of 1 percent in this people group follow Jesus.

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