MAMADON KEITA was a well-digger in the Sahara. He heard the gospel for the first time in Timbuctoo. He was a Malinke, a fetishist, at first, and his father, a fiery old warrior, was a man of blood, who would kill on the slightest provocation. He once paid a big price for a number of talismans to a Moslem teacher, and, in order to possess himself of all the talismans, that no one might buy similar ones, he waylaid the Moslem and killed him. Later when the French forces occupied his town, he refused to submit with the others. For this he was thrown into prison and was shot for his obstinacy.
*Printed by the kind permission of the Religious Tract Society.—
Editor.
After the shooting of his father, Mamadon and his mother removed to live elsewhere. There he went to a Government school and learned to read French. He got work as a conductor on a train, but quickly tired of the job, ran off, and became a foreman of a well-digging outfit in the desert. He worked along the dangerous edge of the Sahara, digging wells and cleaning out others that had caved in. He also learned brick-making and laying, and by means of both he was able to earn a good living, and still does.
Working with Moslems he sought to know about God. Though he threw away his fetishes, he never could accept Islam. He learned white men’s ways, and some of their wisdom, but he had never heard of Christ the only Saviour. It was in Timbuctoo he first heard the gospel from two itinerant missionaries who spoke only Arabic. This language he did not know at the time, hence he did not learn much. They gave him a copy of the French New Testament which he could not understand, but he accepted it as a religious book read by Europeans.
Returning to the desert and to his well-digging occupation years passed before he again heard anything about the Christian religion. Missionaries eventually came to Timbuctoo, men of God. He had come back to do some well-digging, and was at work round Timbuctoo. With others he dropped into an evening service. “The Holy Spirit must have been present,” said Mamadon after, for he was much impressed, and remained behind to inquire further. These are his own words about that evening experience:—
“When I entered that room I stood and listened for a few moments and then I sat down. Something within seemed to tell me that these men had the truth for which I had groped so long. I do not remember the actual words of the speaker, but he invited anyone interested to stay behind. I remained, and was determined to learn more of these truths. Next day I went again and found the preacher busy making a cupboard. When he saw me he threw down his tools and invited me into the house. I thought it unusual for a European to show so much interest in an African, and could not understand this. We talked and read the Bible for about an hour, but my mind was dull and brutish, and I could not grasp the truth. When I left he gave me a Testament, advised me to read it daily, promised to pray for me, and invited me to come back.
“In a few days I left for Araouan to dig wells in the desert for the use of the salt caravan, and I went to say good-bye to the missionary. He gave me a whole Bible and prayed for me on the spot. This was a new experience. I had never heard anyone pray and talk to God like that. I had heard Moslems say prayers, but they did not pray as he did. During six months I spent hours daily reading the Bible and praying for light. I desired to know the truth and the desire became a craving that nothing would satisfy.
“From then on the Bible became a sacred thing, the very Word of God, and His message for me. While reading it, some passage would lighten my darkness, and seemed to speak to me direct. I would read it to the men working with me, but it scared them, and they said they wanted to hear nothing but the Koran. They said all desert brigands were Moslems, and that, if they fell into the hands of a band while at work, Moslems would be spared, and those who had the Christian’s book would be killed. I was thus cut off from human friendship. Only the fact that I was the chief, and had charge of the food supplies, prevented them from ignoring me altogether. The inner voice which I now know to be the Spirit of God, led me on, and I accepted the truth revealed. When the French asked me after that about my religion, as they always do, I said: ‘I am a Christian.’
I returned again to Timbuctoo. From there I was sent to Gao, and only a mingled feeling of shame on account of my past wicked life kept me from going straight to the Missionaries’ house. I spent my mid-day rest hours studying the Bible and in meditation and prayer. A year afterwards Christ was revealed to me by the missionaries’ help, and I saw Him as the central figure of God’s Word. I saw Him as my Saviour, and His presence in the person of the Holy Spirit as Comforter. At last my highest hopes were realized, my heart was satisfied, and I was saved. I now praise God daily for bringing me thus to Himself.” This was Mamadon Keita’s story of his conversion.
Mamadon Keita has no thought of being anything but a well-digger and bricklayer, and earning his bread by the sweat of his face. He now lives a clean Christian life, and witnesses to one and all who cross his path of God’s Great Salvation. He has a passion for the souls of his fellows. He has already led three others to Christ, and a number more are under deep conviction of sin as the result of his testimony. I met Mamadon while on my way to Menaka in the Sahara in July, 1929. He was returning to Ansongo after some work for the Government. The officer at Menaka showed me some of his work and spoke well of him and of his life during his stay there. (Dugald Campbell’s Wanderings in Widest Africa).