Chapter 19 - Those Drums Are Driving Me Nuts

“Praising God, and having favour with all the

people. And the Lord added to the church daily such
as should be saved.”

—Acts 2:47

Our long awaited flight to Ivory Coast, West

Africa finally ended. Waiting for us at the airport
was a group of missionaries, the welcoming
committee. After going through customs, we made
our way through Abidjan, the capital city. Already
in total culture shock. This was all new to the Ayers
family. Nothing could have prepared us for what we
were seeing, hearing, and smelling as we rode down
the streets of the city. Experiencing this strange new
land was like nothing we had done before.
    We were lodging with missionary friends, Bro.
Jimmy Ammons and his family, in Yopougon, a
little town about thirty minutes from Abidjan.
After we were settled in, some other missionaries
came over for a good meal and great fellowship.
As might be expected, we were very tired
after our eighteen-hour flight! We soon took showers
and collapsed into bed around eleven o’clock.
    Within a few minutes of retiring, however, the
sound of beating drums filled our room. All night
long those drums kept beating. It was a sleepless
night. The next morning Bro. Ammons
explained that the drums meant someone had died;
and when Africans have a funeral, they make it a
time of celebration. They sure celebrated a long
time last night! I thought to myself.
    Our host then informed us that we were going to
the local open-air market. It was only eight o’clock,
and already it was muggy, hot, and humid. What
would it be like by one o’clock? The walk to the
market wasn’t far, but our long flight, jet lag, and
sleepless night, combined with the jolting culture
shock, were taking their toll on us.
    At the market, we headed into a mass of people
with goods for sale spread out everywhere. And the
smell—oh, the smell!—was unbelievable. The sensory
overload finally got the best of my family and
me. We ran out of the market as fast as we could and
into the not-so-fresh open air as the previous night’s
supper promptly exited our bodies. Now we were
sick and asked our host missionaries to take us back
to their house. Praise the Lord, at least the drums
had stopped beating, and we were able to go back to
bed and sleep for the rest of the day.
    After a few days things gradually improved.
We were now able to go to the market and to get
around much better. We had come to Ivory Coast
to work with the English-speaking Ghanaian refugees
from war-torn Ghana. For a while we had no
transportation except taxis. Therefore, we bought
a 125 Yamaha motorcycle and familiarized ourselves
with the city and how to maneuver through
traffic. A few months later we felt ready to visit Aboisso,
a town about an hour to the west where most of the
Ghanaian refugees lived.
    On the appointed day, Linda and I boarded
our moto and traveled to Aboisso to find the
people the Lord had sent us to work with. When
we finally arrived in this town of three thousand
people, we started asking around for the Ghanaian
chief. Locating him, we introduced ourselves and
explained our mission. He received us warmly and
sent his son ahead to inform the assistant chief of
our arrival. He personally took us to the home of the
assistant chief, who greeted us with a lukewarm soft
drink. After introductions, we sat down and talked
for a while about our mission.
    To our great delight, the chief and assistant chief
invited us to come back and hold a service right
beside the assistant chief’s home, a humble mud hut.
We eagerly accepted and left there that day praising
the Lord for the great contact we had made with the
people He had called us to.
    When the time for the meeting came, our return
trip was made much easier by the arrival of not only
our personal belongings from the States but also our
Jeep Wagoneer. Pulling up to the assistant chief’s
home, we were shocked to see the many people
standing under the makeshift tent he had erected
for the occasion. What a time we had that Sunday
morning, October 9, 1983! I preached the gospel,
and nearly fifty people raised their hands for salvation.
A local church was born in Aboisso that day,
and this same church is still winning souls for Christ.

(Copyright by Jay B Ayers)