When I was in college, I took an African literature class taught by Chima Nwankwo. He was raised in Igbo villages in west Africa in what is now Nigeria. When we read “Things Fall Apart” by Chinua Achebe, he sang the Igbo parts and translated them for us.
We compared two authors writing political novels about their respective home countries. One writer had left her country 15 years before the publication of her novel. The other was still in his country. As we discussed these books, the discussion turned to what it means to fight for change. I will never forget what Chima said…
He said that since the author had left, she had no business trying to fight for any change. She had left the struggle and has now become willingly disconnected from the conflict. Her only information is second-hand. If she had wanted to evoke change, she should have stayed.
That is has been eating away at me for some time. I am tremendously disappointed. I hope this changes soon.
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4 Responses to “African Lit Class”
I think it also forces one to think about what “moving on” means. For example, while we continue our friendships back in NY, I don’t see it as my responsibility (or even a possibility) to contribute significantly to the growth of my old congregation. Likewise, if we were to move to another fellowship here, I’d hope I’d throw my heart into my new place. I think I’d owe that as much to our new group as to our old.
Obviously, by remaining in your current fellowship, you’re not exactly “moving on”. So neither my experience nor your author’s really maps to your situation.
I think there are lot’s of moving ons spiritually. Moving in and out of leadership and finally leaving for me ultimately came down to that it was harder to be like Jesus and stay than leave. The other reason(s) was that, even though I was speaking out, I felt like I was condoning a practice and a culture in my church that was sinful by being there. I wrestled with this for a very long time, (at least a year), and then my minister made it easy by using scripture in an unbiblical/biased manner and asked me not to come to a service. Anyway, it’s hard to leave and it’s hard to stay sometimes. I still care deeply for my friends in the ICC and feel, as far as it is from me, responsible for them. It drives me nuts when I read, (from one of your prevous articles), that the leadership in one church made membership cards to see if they had to care about them or not. It sounds like they were insecure and wanted to see who was for them more than to see who they had to care about. It seems apparent that they stopped caring when they made the requirement for “friendship” was that you had to sign a card. Anyway, I digress and I disagree with the author that stayed in the country. Sometimes, especially in third world country situations but also in others, you can help more by leaving, (e.g. get on the news, sway world opinion, picket the UN). And, I applaud the autor, who left, for still caring after leaving. Sometimes it’s easier to just say it doesn’t affect me any more so who cares but he/she did. Maybe I’m relating but I am for sure going to long this morning. I know the heartache and the wrestling amd I hope it makes a difference.
I think that those who stay behind can find it easy to elevate themselves over those who leave. Sometimes they might feel abandoned or left holding the bag, so to speak and lash out.
I know that my sinful nature tends to have those thoughts at times – “Easy to have opinions from the outside looking in!” or “What do you care, you’re gone!” – but those help no one and only feed my own pride. Put plainly, I think they are selfish and sinful.
The fact is, as you and BEG know (he’s my best friend because the times we spent together here in Columbus), leaving is not an easy decision. Throwing that kind of attitude at folks just makes a difficult situation worse. The person already feels a separation, and those comments frankly seal the deal. “A line has been drawn between you and I, don’t you dare cross back over it.” You have to do what your conscience tells you to do, with prayer and faith. Anything else is sin. It’s hard for others to see that. I fought BEG on his decision to leave for along time. One day, after a visit to another church, he said something like “It was refreshing. I was able to just worship God there. I’m sure there are issues there, but they are not my issues. It was just me and God.” It was then I knew that he was right to leave and I fully supported it, but it was still really hard.
He and I still have many discussions and talks on things, he comes around the blog a bunch and leaves his perspective, which I value greatly. He still cares and hurts for us, and why wouldn’t he? He spend 6-7 years of his life building this church and met his wife here. What purpose would it serve to tell him to butt out? Nothing but to make me feel better about myself, which wouldn’t last long.
What I’m saying is just because you ‘leave’, does not mean you don’t care or have no right to care and express an opinion. Anyone who throws that at you is only serving their own emotions and pride.
I think both options have merits and flaws. Staying may help in the long run and gives the person the ability to maybe better help those around them but at what cost for the person? Leaving does distant the person from both the situation and the other involved but it also may draw attention to the issues. There are examples of both in history – ie Ghandi vs. the Dahli Lama.
You have to make the decision of which will draw you closer to God, closer to your family and closer to community with other believers. You face some challenging decisions and I will certainly continue to pray for you and your family. We face similar (and potentially worse) issues here right now. I am still hopeful for a good outcome but right now it’s a little difficult to envision. So I must rely by faith that God works all things together for good (with our without me).
ttk