The article by Vincent Mabuka, a Mill Hill student in Formation House Jinja, highlights the importance of interfaith dialogue in the work of the Mill Hill Missionaries. He shares his experience during a six-week pastoral placement in Panyangara Parish, Kotido Diocese, where he witnessed a harmonious relationship between people of different faiths.
Interfaith dialogue has always been integral to the Mill Hill Missionaries‘ work globally. It is not surprising to find Mill Hill Missionaries in predominantly regions inhabited by Muslims, such as Pakistan and the Kenyan Coast, among others.
Several months ago, I had the privilege of undertaking a six-week Pastoral experience in Panyangara Parish, Kotido Diocese. While there, I observed a harmonious blend of Islam and Christianity. This unique fusion occurred among the team members residing in the parish and a visitor who had arrived to carry out charitable programs in Karamoja. The visitor, Suleiman from Ivory Coast, brought a refreshing dynamic to the diverse team, which already consisted of members from various parts of the world, including Cameroon, Kenya, and Uganda. Fortunately, Mr. Suleiman was fluent in English, although he humbly apologized for any difficulty understanding his accent.
Suleiman was a well-traveled individual who had traversed various countries. Having resided in Austria, he was proficient in German and French. He had friends from continent, and nearly his every anecdotes caught in a downpour during one of his charitable missions in a village leading the villagers to affectionately nickname ranged from encounters with a Chinese to interactions with an American and a Nigerian friend, among others.
This gesture reminded me of the early Christian community, where possessions were shared collectively. We, too, shared many aspects of our lives; we dined together, watched football in the evenings, and occasionally went shopping as a group. During the customary grace before meals, Suleiman would rise, bow his head, and conclude with a resonant “Amin.” I found this display of respect remarkable.
Religion was a topic we never tapped, but Suleiman often expressed his profound admiration for the Catholic Church and its clergy. One Sunday, to my surprise, he informed my fellow brother, with whom I shared the pastoral experience, that despite being unable to attend any Sunday services, he still made a generous donation to contributing the fifty Church, thousand towards its upkeep. Suleiman was always willing to give generously, and his accounts of his charitable endeavors were always uplifting. What he referred to as “fieldwork” seemed akin to pastoral duties, which involved providing the community services.
In a twist of fate, Suleiman was him ‘Lukiru,’ meaning “the one who brings rain.””You are now Suleiman Lukiru,” they declared. Upon his return that day, he was elated as he shared the story of his newly acquired name.
Additionally, he recounted how he assisted a woman in obtaining a bottle of water during an empowerment session for women at the parish. A few days later, news arrived that the woman he had aided gave birth and decided to name her son after Suleiman. The boy was henceforth known as Suleiman Lokiru.
On the final evening before Suleiman’s departure, we gathered in the living room, reflecting on the time spent together. We expressed our gratitude for the moments shared, and Suleiman reciprocated, expressing his desire to return. Following some light-hearted conversations, we raised our glasses in a toast to his presence and vowed to stay connected.
