Mdala Philemon Ndebele — An African Elder
No written records of any kind were kept by the Matebele people at the time, therefore Philemon’s exact birthday is unknown. He was born at a place called Jingeni, near which today runs the broad Bulawayo-Salisbury highway. Beside the highway, not very far from where his home then was, there is a monument. In Rhodesia, in 1893, the Matebele people made their stand for the overlordship of the land and lost. The monument commemorates their last battle, their defeat and white victory. Their King, Lobingula fled.
Philemon was but an infant of days, when the heavy summer rains came to obliterate all trace of the king’s flight across the Gwampa and Shangani forests. As a man, Philemon Ndebele came to know these forests well, dotted as they are now with preaching stations. His father, Warrior Bahlomela, was in the war when he was born, although not engaged perhaps in actual skirmishing. The late elder Mukandla remembered his own father going to Bulawayo with other men “to lay down their spears” after the historic conference in the Matopo hill between an unarmed Cecil Rhodes and the remnants of the belligerent but dispirited Matebele regiments.
Philemon could not remember these events but the pros and cons of the war and the settlement were discussed for years round the ‘beer-calabash’ by day or by the fire at night. Seventy years later even, I heard these discussed sometimes among the old and sometimes among the young. (Friday evening school debate). It does not require any stretch of the imagination to believe that little Philemon heard very stirring tales. Bahlomele, his father, had four wives, the youngest of whom was Philemon’s mother. Dark in more than one sense had Bahlomele been. Had he been given a book he would not have known what to do with it. Had even Philemon 10 years later been presented with a Bible, he would not have been able to read it. Perhaps these few facts may go a little way to show that he was reared, in all respects, in circumstances just like those of other Matebele children of his day. But the subject of this sketch, though ‘sometime far off’ from God, was ‘brought nigh’ to Him, despite the obstacles.
There had been a Mission established at Nyathi near the king’s home by Rev Robert Moffat, which was followed by other ventures at Shiloh and Hope Fountain. These were ruined by the 1893 rebellion. With peace restored, towns were laid out, as well as roads, and the railway was extended. The railway was to provide work for Philemon when he grew up, at Bembesi Station. One of the best of these developments was the setting up of ‘schools’ to teach Africans to read, write and count. These were not attended at this time so much by children as by young men. Part of the daily reading in these Protestant ‘schools’ was from the Bible. It is remarkable that there were no Roman Catholic priests in the Bulawayo area till the turn of the century. Philemon eventually attended classes organised by the London Missionary Society.
As is well known by Free Presbyterians, their Church, in 1904, sent forth her own missionary in the person of Rev John Radasi, a Fingo tribesman. At Bembesi Station, where there is a Free Presbyterian Church, Philemon Ndebele had his first contact with the black missionary sent from Scotland. Mr Radasi, it seems, taught among other things, that as a matter of duty, people should obtain Bibles for themselves and learn to read them. It appears that from this time forth, Philemon gave attention to reading the Bible regularly. He memorised large portions of the Scriptures. It is impossible to know when in his life Philemon Ndebele experienced the greatest of all changes — his passing from death to life, from the kingdom of Satan into the kingdom of God’s dear Son. We believe that his reading gave place to a more than ordinary interest in the Bible as the Word of God. He confessed that he was “gripped” by it. That he learned he was a sinner, in need of mercy from God, and that this knowledge he obtained by the illumination of the Holy Spirit, is beyond doubt. That Christ was “all his salvation and all his desire”, was equally evident, we think. The desire to be cleansed was often on his lips, as was also another aspect of the nature of the faith that he had, “the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.”
He must have been both a communicant and a leader of men in the year 1925. He led a delegation that approached Rev John Tallach that year asking him to open a school in their community. By 1927, he was conducting public worship, “preaching the Gospel in a small way” as he put it. “The Gospel of Jesus Christ” was an expression that he used often in his discussions. His affection for it continued to the end. While fit, he walked and cycled miles along sandy tracks in scorching heat, to hold services “in his own small way”. He regarded himself as a ‘ncedisi’ (helper) and had a more than ordinary respect for the ‘abefundisi’ (ministers) for their work’s sake. He was a humble and inoffensive man, one of the most self-effacing one could ever meet. He was not, conversationally, gifted. Yet he could, when compelled, give such a withering rebuke (ever so rarely)! Always polite and civil, he could, with a few soft-spoken sentences, deflate a most difficult person. “God is light” he often quoted, “and in Him is no darkness, at all. If we say we have fellowship with him and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth.” One cannot help believing that this was the reason for his authority and for the respect he commanded.
In 1939, he was made an elder at Mlizane, and in 1945 he was removed to Zenka and there, with his family, built up a new home. He had been, after his marriage, employed by a Swiss-German farmer. He always spoke well of Mr Gerber, who had taught him ‘European’ farming methods. Philemon Ndebele was a most diligent worker (it was one of his principles) as a tiller of the soil and stock-rearer. His fields, his flocks, his method, were the admiration of many, the envy of some. Very few could imitate him, apart from some of his own family, whom he taught to be industrious, while others let their young men roam at will. We believe that the Lord prospered him. He preferred more to give, than to receive, and his family of seven never went hungry.
But he taught his children better things. His own private Bible reading was a good example to them. He prayed with them, and for them, at family worship. What was wrong, or even suspect, in the culture of the Matabele people had no place given in his home. He was himself completely liberated from the superstitious reverence commonly given the ‘amadlozi’ (ancestral spirits). Witch doctors and their kind he would never consult, and he and his like-minded wife regarded these things as “the unfruitful works of darkness”. Even flippant discussion of these matters was frowned on. One formed the opinion, years ago, that his family were as much in ignorance about African superstitions, as white children in that land would have been. They, as children, never got initiated. It will be his family’s condemnation if any of them have not improved their privileges.
Acting as a ‘kraal head’ and assisting the African chiefs, he, in this way, co-operated with the “white administration” of the African Tribal lands. When any African had reason to complain to him privately about what they felt was ‘European’ ill treatment of the Africans, Mdala Ndebele’s reply always was, “The Lord knows all about it.” (There was much implied in that.) Someone said to me (perhaps questioningly) that Mdala Ndebele “would almost say it was sinful not to pay Government taxes.” He knew his Bible well. (Matt 17:24 and 22:17) When offered a position as Councillor, by the Local Office, he refused because, though only a layman, he feared it would interfere with the progress of “the Gospel of Jesus Christ”. “No man can serve two masters,” he said. He was assaulted and severely beaten during the recent guerilla warfare. The new Zimbabwe would have given him no joy, we think, had he lived to see it. He would have desired a better Zimbabwe. But he sought a better country still, even an heavenly, whose builder and maker is God.
As related in the Gaelic Supplement of this magazine, when the Rev. B. B. Dube was inducted to the Zenka congregation, there was much terrorist activity in that area, so that many were weakened and afraid. Philemon Ndebele visited Mr Dube and spoke to him about witnessing on the side of Christ in dark and troublous times, emphasising the privilege and honour of doing so. Mr Dube was greatly encouraged by the aged man’s advice.
On the Thursday before he died, many of the congregation desired that they should hear Elder Ndebele speak to them, perhaps for the last time. He said he would try, intending to speak to them from the text which says, “for we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved we have . . . an house not made with hands eternal in the heavens”, but he could not, through weakness, address them, though the congregation gathered at his home. Another old elder Magaya Ncube, had come and old Ndebele asked him to try to speak from these same words, which he did. On Saturday, Elder Ncube went to speak to him, and he was exhorted by Elder Ndebele to continue teaching and to be faithful to his church, and to those things which they both had knowledge of. Before he died he advised his wife to be firm, not to allow the younger ones to over-rule her in the home, and to ensure the keeping of the Lord’s Day as they had used to keep it. Then on Sabbath morning he was taken to his Eternal Rest.
At his funeral, Rev. B. B. Dube conducted worship, and also spoke briefly from the words “for I know whom I have believed and I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day.” Mr Dube was one of those who heard Ndebele preaching, many years before, from these words and was impressed by them.
Thus ended the unblemished life of one who was reared in the midst of abounding ungodliness.
“Mark thou the perfect and behold,
the man of uprightness
because that surely of this man
the latter end is peace.”
A.N. and D.M.C.
The late Murdo MacDonald, Elder, Achmore, Lewis
This worthy man, for twenty-five years an Elder in the Stornoway congregation, finished his course in time on 16th June, 1979, in his ninetieth year.
From the time of his new birth Murdo MacDonald proved to be a most devoted and humble follower of the Lamb. Of his conversion he was wont to give, in his own inimitable way, a graphic and interesting account when speaking at fellowship meetings. He found himself a sinner in an estate of sin and misery, lost and ruined, under the omniscient eye of Him whose voice was heard in Eden enquiring after Adam — “Where art thou?.” By the teaching of the Holy Spirit this was to lead in Murdo’s case to a recognition of Christ as the Redeemer who bruised the head of the serpent and Who loved him and gave Himself for him. In believing, he rejoiced “with joy unspeakable and full of glory”. Throughout his life he adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour ever conscious of his own natural depravity and that salvation was truly of grace.
Domiciled for the most part of his life at Achmore, he zealously did what he could to maintain the Lord’s cause there and over many years, in the absence of regular supply, he single-handedly conducted the services in the church on Sabbath and week-day. This he did with great acceptance. As a Christian man he was highly respected by all in the community, young and old. His home was ever open to the Lord’s people and at communion seasons in particular it was wont to be filled to capacity.
In 1956 his only son, dearly beloved, lost his life in a gallant but unsuccessful attempt to save a shipmate on board a whaler in the South Atlantic. This was hard on flesh and blood but the grief-stricken father accepted it with true Christian submission. His wife, who also belonged to Achmore, predeceased him by many years. He is survived by his daughter Christina and grandson Donald Murdo living at Galson and to them we anew express our sympathy.
The sight of his hoary head in the Elders’ pew, whether in Stornoway or Achmore, was ever an encouragement to his minister and his passing is lamented. In prayer he spoke as if “seeing Him who is invisible”. He was laid to rest in Crossbost cemetery until the dead in Christ shall arise to be — in words often quoted by himself — “openly acknowledged, and acquitted in the day of Judgment, and made perfectly blessed in the full enjoying of God to all eternity”.
J.M.