My Life Is But A Weaving

This is the picture of Corrie Ten Boom's weaving from the poem that Elder Fraga shared.

Account of Elder Aidan H Fraga of his Experience in a Kenyan Jail

April 23, 2018

 The day started pretty busy. Two days prior the mission had received transfer news, and as a zone leader I played a big part in correlating the travels, as there was much change here in Eldoret. We had to balance many different tasks for the day in the hours we had, such as sending off the elders being transferred, transferring some beds from one of the apartments to another as there were new sisters replacing previous elders, going to one stage to get an elder, going to another to get two sisters, and doing our regular p-day activities such as cleaning, shopping, and emailing. It seemed a little hectic, but nothing that we could not handle. In the course of all these events i was to stay with the Sosiani elders(Elder Tucker and Elder Mukengela), as i was expecting my own companion to arrive the following day due to the traveling required. Because we had an appointment scheduled in the evening, we agreed that we would postpone emailing and just save it for the next week. It was a little bit of a relief when we were finally on our way to that appointment, where we were to meet with a sister who was leaving on her own mission the following day. While there, we had a great experience. The spirit filled the room as we talked about the work ahead of her, as we shared scriptures that had touched our own lives and motivated us in this work, and ultimately bore powerful testimony that we don’t serve missions because it’s easy, but that it’s worth it. It wa a reminder that we have seen blessings and even miracles in this work. Little did we know, soon to follow that night would be a miracle that would strengthen us and our testimonies.

 We left her home sometime around 8:40-45 and began walking home. Although it was my first time serving with them in their area, i had come to know Eldoret town well enough to know where we were. It was a familiar place, in a large market, which the missionaries used often to pass back home. The three of us were walking together as we neared a corner, which we were going to turn on, but before we could make it, three men stopped us, grabbing me and Elder Tucker by the arm. We were all very confused. The men told us that they were police and asked what we thought we were doing, claiming that there was a foreigners curfew of six o'clock (which i think is a complete lie- I’ve been here a while now and I have never heard of this, nor have I ever experienced problems relating to it.) They asked to see our papers, but before surrendering them, we asked to see their own as they were only in civilian clothing. They presented their cards showing they were who they said, so we did the same. When they saw that we were only carrying copies of our passports and work permits, they accused us of being illegal in the country and that photocopies could not be accepted (once again a lie, as there have been missionaries approached by police in this mission before and they were fine with those copies.) They informed us that they would be taking us to the department and we complied. We started our trek, and on the way there the police started punching or slapping people out of the way! At that point we came to believe that we were not in good company… On our walk there, as it was only about 2 minutes away, we called President Msane and informed him of the situation. He asked to talk to the officers, but they all refused.

 When we reached at the department, the cops took us into a room to question us. They sure did have a whole bunch of questions for us, so many in fact that it seems they always forgot to wait for the answer! Anytime we would try to talk, they would rudely interrupt us with false accusations such as "you are illegal here" and "let’s be honest, you’re just spies" and they had some really mean things to say about Elder Mukengela and his country the DRC. They even tried to say that Elder Mukengela lied about being a Kenyan, but he never said he was a Kenyan, he was only speaking Swahili so they made that assumption. We presented all of the papers and forms that we had at the time and told them that that was the best we could do at the time, that if they wanted the originals they would have to accept to talk to our supervisors in Nairobi. It was discouraging when they continued to press on us saying they needed the originals but that they weren’t going to talk to anyone but us. I think you can see how stubborn these guys were being, eh? President Msane called and told us that President Kogo, and President Kamao (district president and councilor mission presidency) were on their way. So we decided to give up on trying to talk to these brethren and moved on to what missionaries do best, preaching the gospel! while we waited for those two great brethren to arrive! When they started trying to ask puzzling questions, trying to confound us we took council from President Ezra Taft Benson, "if you can’t convert them, confound them!" and we left those officers out to dry with our doctrine in the most loving/missionary way we could. Then they started leaving us alone. They also realized we weren't spies... 

 President Kogo and President Kamao made it to the police department around 9:00 or so, and they started making a case. They assured the officers that we had the necessary documents and that we were innocent of any crime that may have been put against us. They made many valid points and remained very calm through the whole ordeal, but in the end it was to no avail. The officers again refused to release us until the original documents were presented. At this final declaration we could see a sense of worry in our leaders faces, and they became very quiet and anxious when those in authority told us of their plans to keep us in the block overnight. Together with the other elders we faced our next challenge with an attitude similar to that of Peter and John in Acts 5:41 "rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for his name".  We were for Christ, and He was for us, what more could we desire? They transitioned us into the next room where we were to be searched, and had our possessions taken from us before entering the prison row. I remember offering a silent prayer telling God that I knew it was within His power to release us, but that if He willed, we would endure the night together and eagerly accept the lessons to be taught in this experience. We were then searched, our possessions were taken or given to the presidents which included them confiscating one shoe from each of us and placing them in a large metal chest, and we were put in line to enter the holding cell. After much persuasion, we convinced the guards to let us keep a bible.

 We huddled together and offered a prayer. I was humbled when my fellow missionaries asked me to offer it, we and I had a spiritual outpouring as we bowed our heads and united in petitioning our God to keep us through the night. We asked for good company and that when the morning would come that we could walk away with our heads held high keeping the attitude that was with us as we entered the building. I can’t remember who started, but we found ourselves humming the tune of "abide with me tis eventide". The sound seemed to shake the walls and floor around us, It spoke peace to our hearts, and though the song only softly escaped our lips it reached our souls with great power.

 When the guard came and unlocked the first door, which led to the heavy steel one separating us from the inmates, our hearts were strained as we saw the interior of our cement tunnel that would lock us away from communication and comfort. There were scratches covering every inch of the walls with names and messages from those who had occupied the place before us. The first message we saw was "God is good". The next that stood out to us was "kingdom of hell". And as icing on the cake, as we reached the opposite end of the stuffy, stinky hall, the message "they will kill you." hung at eye level. There were five cells and a bathroom. We walked down as the guard directed us. The first block to our left was called "kamukunji" it was a large room. We could tell it was a room the prisoners could congregate together if called. It had no roof, only a chain link net separating us and the cold night air. There was another cell on the right titled "females" it was locked, but looking in we saw many women, including a 12 year old girl, I could tell you about her story as well. It’s sad. Then, followed "males" and after "juveniles". The last, which neighbored kamukunji was titled "mentals". The long florescent light inside was off. There were rags covering a large portion of the gate/window, and we could not see who was on the other side of the door.

 It did not take long before our socks were soaking wet, as there was water and what seemed to be sewage from the unkempt bathroom all over the cold prison floor. We each had one shoe, and after making an attempt to hop into and out of the bathroom (for a point of reference, consider a kaybo/outhouse at a boy scout camp and times that by 70x) we were led to kamukunji. The guards pushed us in and then left, locking the two doors behind them. We were now alone.

 We were alone with two strangers in the room. One, who seemed to be a motorbike driver, was later identified as Andrew, He was sleeping near the end of the wall. The other, in a crouching position, whose name was Nelson, was seated near the far corner of the room. After about 10-15 minutes I thanked God in my heart for our situation. The men in our cell did not seem like they would cause any trouble for us that night. Almost immediately, we began sharing scriptures that we believed could match our situation. Elder Mukengela shared thoughts about Ammon and the Book of Mormon missionaries, though we did not have a copy to read from. I read from 2 Corinthians 4:5-9. and Elder Tucker shared a passage from Matthew 5:10. It was touching, and helped us feel at peace with our situation. The heretofore mentioned Nelson, though he seemed crazy and smelled like alcohol, was shocked by our optimistic attitudes and became very interested in what we were sharing. He loved listening to our conversation, though he would at certain points chip in by reminding us over and over again that the cops stole his shoe, his phone, and his 400 shillings. After what seemed to be an hour, we had to interrupt him and tell him, "Hey nelson buddy, I think it’s time to take a little nap, alright? We're all pretty tired from what happened today...", the kind man responded, "okay friends, but just remember to sleep with one eye open." None of us could sleep.

 At what we believe must have been midnight, the police entered again to call names. All prisoners were called to the larger roofless cell in which we were waiting. As the men and women filed into the room, we came to understand how many people there actually were there with us... We did not consider that there could have been more hiding in the other cells… They called our names one at a time, it took about 10 minutes to get through everyone as they directed certain of the prisoners into the first hall. One person they called was Elder Tucker. He stood out in the hall as the rest of us quietly waited. They took those of us remaining and told us we would be exiting the cells for some short time. For the first time in our ordeal we felt worry. Our position had been changed, and the worst part was that we were now separated from our companion! We weren’t sure what could happen! But as Elder Mukengela and I were being asked further questions in the searching room, the potential opportunities at hand were revealed. A prisoner shouted at Elder Tucker, ”You’re a pastor, right? Preach to us!” He informed those in the cell that they would have to wait until his companions returned. And after some time, we did.

It was a great feeling to be back in the cell- or at least to be back together, but we returned in haste to our spot in kamukunji to continue our bible studies.  As we could not find much rest, we agreed that we would begin reading from the start of Matthew and see how far we could make it in the New Testament before the sun came up! And so it began! Three Elders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in a Kenyan prison reading scriptures.  Other prisoners must have heard because as we were reading the Sermon on the Mount, several of them crept in and sat along the walls to listen.  Nelson, our friend was still by our side rocking back and forth and he, along with all in the room, sat reverently, listening as the savior spoke to those that were “poor in spirit”, to those that were “pure in heart”, and to those who were “persecuted for righteousness’ sake”. We did not start preaching at this time. If I’m being honest, I didn’t even think at the time that anybody in jail would be willing to listen, but we did see the impact those verses had on everyone’s lives. Not only there in the jail, but it opened my perspective on how these words have produced true enduring change through generations. The verses we were reading seemed to make the time pass a little faster, it seemed the air was a little less cold, the dark cell seemed to fill with light.

After an hour or so, a man walked in the room. He was new. We didn’t see him enter the place, the guards had not opened the main door since we reentered the room, but he was not there for roll call. His presence did not delay our scripture reading. We carried on. But, the man slowly walked towards Andrew. A short description of this man: He was shorter, seemed to be very strong, the mangy dreadlocks on his head had a bald spot near the front where it almost seemed as if someone had ripped that part of his hair out. His clothes were dirty, and it looked as if he hadn’t shaved in days, if not weeks. Laying aside his appearance, the spirit that followed him in the room caused us to shake, literally shake. I have been through cold nights before. I’ve slept in snow caves and snow-shoed in -10 degree weather, but I have never shivered like that in all my life. I tried to blame it on the cold, but I knew that for each of us, it was because of fear. Discouragement, doubt, fear, misery, all these emotions clouded around us- until we remembered the promise and the commandment. The promise given to every servant of the Lord, that “no weapon formed against [us] shall prosper”(Isaiah 54:17) and the commandment in Joshua, the Lord speaking, “have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”.

We knew where we were finding hope, so we continued reading. The man, whom I will refer to as the captain for lack of a real name, kicked Andrew in the ribs to wake him up. And Andrew painfully stood up. The captain pushed him up against the wall, and spoke to him in Swahili; judging by the look on the man’s face, it wasn’t anything good. Andrew pushed him back, trying to force the captain to back off, at which point the captain gave a signal, like a whistle, and 6-7 other big men(who were also absent at roll call)walked in. they pinned Andrew against the wall and rendered him defenseless. All in the room were silent. The entire gang dragged the helpless struggling man out of kamukunji and into another cell. In shock and unaware of what might happen to him, we just looked at each other. Nelson, breaking the silence looked at me dead in the eye and said, ”When they come for us, we need to stand strong.” He raised his fist in the air, as our hearts sunk to the floor.

The quivering continued, but for the moment we ceased reading. As Nelson had notioned, we awaited our turns. What were we to do? Was there any courage left to resist? Did we have the faith to rebuke? What would we do if they came back for one of us? Hundreds of questions raced through our heads and weighed deeply on each of us. Who knows how much time passed, but the man returned- the captain returned. He came and stood at the feet of Nelson and said “SEMAMA!” which means stand up in Swahili. Nelson did so, revealing that he had an injured leg, but he stood in front of that man with confidence. I felt a pit in my stomach but slowly raised my right hand so that no one noticed, I closed my eyes and I said under my breath, “in the name of Jesus Christ I command you not to harm any of us.” No one saw me. No one heard me, but I waited to see what would happen. The captain began searching him, putting his hands in all of his pockets and patting him down in an attempt to find anything of value, then left to return to his band of followers. We knew we were next in line, and the very thought was terrifying.

Before the man came back, a rush of comfort swept over us. All at once we stopped shivering. The fear left. I wish I could, but I can’t find the words to describe it. It was something else, Something out of this world. The man stepped back in, and in my own heart I felt like I was looking at the devil. But the fear could not return.  He couldn’t ask us to stand up. He crouched next to Elder Mukengela and said in Swahili, “that’s a nice coat. Do you have anything valuable in it?” Elder Mukengela calmly replied, “I do not, but if you’d like, you can check me”. The man did, but only found ten shillings that he forgot to remove before entering. Frustrated, he asked our companion, “Is this really it?” and was met with an answer in the affirmative. He asked about us, “labda wazungu?” but Mukengela told him the same. The captain said something in Swahili and left.

We once again found ourselves on our own. Our senses had returned and we felt calm, and we returned to the bible. Before beginning, elder M turned and looked at us and softly said, almost as if he didn’t believe it, “He says he’ll leave us alone”.  We were exhausted, mentally beat, and ready for our struggles to end, but our hopes were back, the spirit was once more recognized, and we were ready for some peace in the night. We continued in Matthew, and drew even more people into the room to listen. The gang did end up returning, after we had heard them begging the captain to come for us, but he would not allow them do anything more than search us as they did they did to the two prior. Haha, when they patted my chest they discovered my consecrated oil on a band. When they asked what it was, I said, “it’s oil for the church”, and immediately, they dropped it back under my shirt. They took Elder Tucker’s bead bracelet, and when they found out that he had made it himself they told him, “Lucky you, I guess you can make another then, huh?” haha… But peace was restored.

It must have been around three or four o’clock in the morning, but the guards called for another roll call. (The only real reason we could think of them doing this is because we could tell by the metal net above us, that there had been attempts made to escape in the past…) this time we stuck together though, and after carried on with reading. There were many who stayed with us from that point on. In fact, there were prisoners almost lining 3 of the walls. It must have been well over 20 people possibly 28 or 29. I felt happy again. I felt like any trouble that we might have been called to go through was now over, but our calling within the walls had not yet even really begun. There was a young man, named Sammy, who stood up. In front of all the prisoners he started sharing something I will never forget. It was like a really spiritual devotional! He began with us and he was asking a special question. His question was “what is your verse?” when he received an answer he would tell us to open it and read it aloud. The opportunity was shown once again. As he was talking I felt a prompting to stand up and offer to preach. I was looking around at those in the room, and I no longer viewed them as criminals, but as brothers and as sons of God. Sammy began finishing what he had to say so I stood up and said, “is it alright if I share some thoughts?” the reaction from my comment definitely assured me that it was the spirit guiding.

 I stood up having no “thought beforehand what [I should] say”, but I stood up. Standing in a prison and before prisoners, I opened my mouth and began preaching. I told them about us, and the church, I told them of our purpose, and the potential at hand from the message we bear, and then I told them though we may have wished to meet in a different setting, God had sent us there and God had sent us there for something. After inquiring if we could say an opening prayer, I motioned to Elder Tucker to offer it. He stood up, and everyone else followed him. Some of them to the left of me yelled “everyone be quiet! (not in those particular words… I don’t feel comfortable with the vocabulary they decided to use… but yeah…) we’re praying!” then speaking to those in the room, “get on your feet. Show some respect and get on your feet!” Standing there as prodigals and outcasts, we each bowed our heads as Elder Tucker began praying. I cannot express what I felt in that prayer, but just know that it was again, something that seamed unreal. The “Amen” that followed his, echoed like thunder.

And then we started. Elder Mukengela and Elder Tucker joined me in the middle of the room, but it seemed that we were no longer in prison. The chains that had once held us captive were now broken, and we were not prisoners, but ministers; standing “as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places”(Mosiah 18:9). Our purpose in teaching these inmates was to prove to them that regardless of what their choices may be now, at one point they did decide to follow Christ. We taught of our purpose in life. And we discussed the potential of becoming that is before all of us. It was a fulfillment of a verse found in Doctrine and Covenants 50:22, in that we were all being edified with the word of God. To those prisoners the message was meted unto them; whether it was to remind them of where they were coming from, to finally give them direction in this life, or to show them what they can become. To us the experience did not lead to us rethinking our decision to serve God, but it was a powerful confirmation that we made the right choice coming out here to Kenya with Christ’s name on our chests, and that every day of those two years would not lead to regret.

There was a newfound peace in the police department that night. The guards, every now and again, would pop in and call on a prisoner to join them outside, but the connection between all present was hard to break. They called one of our friends, “SAMMY!”, but it seemed as if he did not even hear them. He looked at us almost mesmerized with our message, until finally we told him, “Sammy, those guards keep calling you! Get over there man!” In an anxious tone he said, “okay…. But I promise I’ll be back in just like five minutes! I NEED to hear this!...”

 By the time we finished talking, most of the prisoners had fallen asleep and everything was still. Nelson looked up at us uttering, “Thank you… Thank you elders… Thank you..” slowly dosing off. Elder Mukengela offered the closing prayer and we fell back into place against the wall. The sky was turning purple. Having had no sleep at all, I finally had time to lay down. Some of the guys on the other wall came over and sat near us. I listened to their conversation as I slowly fell into a form of sleep.

Looking around in the morning, I found how scary that situation really could have turned. In the light of day the prison walls revealed the place as a house of pain. Mental. Physical. Spiritual. The longest night of my life had now ended and now the light had returned. Doctrine and Covenants section 6:34 says, “Let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail.” Our lives have been changed forever since then, and my outlook on life will never be the same. Some weeks earlier, my parents shared a poem with me by Corrie Ten Boom. I would like to share it here:

“My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.

Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.

Not ’til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned

He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.

The rest of our stay there was not all too bad. In the morning they did another roll call after which they distributed breakfast… bread and tea… we tried just asking for bread but they told us if we take the bread we also gotta take the tea haha… We passed up the opportunity.. President Kamao returned around 8:00 with some cocoa and bread for us, and told us the situation was being handled. I think he was a little shocked to see that we were still happy!... One of the first things he said was, “the guards told me that you guys preached all night until everyone stopped fighting!” haha. It was good to see him again. We stayed behind bars while President Kogo showed up, followed by the bishop of the Rongai ward in Nairobi, Peter. Bishop Peter came with all of our original passports and documents and after talking with the officials of the police department we were freed. It was about 12:30 by then. We followed the police to another building where we gave our statements and they took our fingerprints. After cleaning up and getting our things back, we were good to go! While we were waiting for my new companion to arrive from Nairobi we took some lunch and relaxed at the district center, while we enjoyed the farewell party for the sister we had visited just the night before. Lots of people enjoyed our experience, and I guess it is a powerful story to tell. Hope I don’t go back any time soon though…

Now that it has been a few weeks since the incident we do have a few things to report on. Since our time there, we have ran into about 8 or 9 inmates, who have called out to us and asked to learn more! Of course we have given them our numbers and pamphlets to read, at this point we have four that we are teaching. Allan, Paul, Gerald, and Sammy who, funny enough, lives just in front of the church. I’ve never been through an experience like that. I still don’t know exactly what to think about it… every once in a while my mind flashes back to those terrible scratches and messages in the place, but my heart still feels the spirit that never once left us and I hope never will. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Pushin' The Envelope Against The Grain

Things were pretty chill for me. It was nice to relax for a little while this week. At the start of the week my companion and I went to Nairobi for MLC. It was a really cool experience. This time it was a little different than usual. I really saw the trust that President Msane has in us. He really counseled with us. It was cool to see answers to some of the mission's problems coming from the missionaries. It made us feel important. We didn't have much time to work in our area, so what did we do? Rather than spending a lot of our time knocking doors and contacting people, we PLANNED, like really, really planned. I have never planned like we planned this week. It was awesome. I have come to appreciate working smart over working hard. We get a lot more success and we aren't as tired.  

I am really, really excited to talk to you guys here soon! Hopefully we skype, but we'll see! And it is even good to type back and forth even now. But I think I am outta time, cause the couples are taking me and Elder Mahanzu to dinner tonight! Woo-hoo! 

Anyways, love you! Tell Conner and Aanika to email me please!

aidan