No need for a wakeup alarm, the roosters begin at first light, and must relish strutting up to the window to announce another glorious morning in Ghana. As each rooster takes his turn crowing with more vigor than the last, I rub my eyes and plead with Beth to make some instant Starbucks coffee as I unplug and untangle the USB devices we charged during the times of night when we actually had power.
At the mission house, our tireless hostess Eva is up and cooking with charcoal. The gas is empty, and the closest distributor is two hours away. Chickens, guinea fowl, ducks, and pigs are sprawled out in front of the strong steel door, half asleep, enjoying the shade. It’s my turn. “WHOOOHOOO GOOD MORNING!” I yell running toward the front door and scattering the flapping, oinking, and clucking livestock. The fleeing animals leave behind some gifts; we zigzag our way in the front door.
After a hot porridge of maze and ginger, we begin our day of recording. It was a slow morning. Pastor Jinjong, Richmond, Mercy, Jemimah, and Janet helped us record in Bimoba, the language used here near the border with Togo. A deadly ongoing conflict among the Bimoba prompted pastor Jinjong to record an exhortation on living in peace and loving your neighbor. Please continue to pray for Pastor Nathaniel and Eva. Life is challenging here, but they serve the community day and night, with broad smiles.
Shortly after 4:00, with the sun already casting long shadows, we packed up Ray’s Nissan truck and started toward Bimbago. A small church had prepared music for us. During the dry season, stretches of the unpaved road seem like red powdered sugar. Billowing swirls of dust follow us as we zoom toward the small town.
Moments before the sun dips below the palm and mango trees behind us, we get a few snaps of the choir. Before long, a single glaring fluorescent bulb, hung high above the front of the unfinished cement church and dirt floor and my laptop screen provide the only light.
At the beginning of each song, the leader timidly regards the microphone and sweaty white guy hunched over the laptop with some caution. Yet once the drum starts, and the choir begins shuffling left and right or grooving to the African rhythms, they forget the room full of tech and a smile begins to beam. Their glorious praises to the Lord echo and reverb splendidly off the metal roof. Each song brings more excitement, more energy, more dancing, and more praises. Beth, facing the singers with her clipboard in hand and a broad smile is rocking back and forth to the native drums and the praises that fill the church.
Several choir leaders take their turn. Photography is difficult, and I am resistant to using a flash, so we settle for the beauty of the voices and some slow and slightly blurry photos. One of the pastors leading the choir wears a traditional “fugu”. Instinctively, he steps back from the microphone to sing and twirl the broad, pleated shirt. The Bimbago singers belted out song after song, until we had more than ten numbers. We then stayed to record four members of the church tell how God has changed their life and how they came to follow Jesus.
With the music still ringing in our ears and the echoes of drums moving our hips, we packed up and thanked the choir for their hard work and lovely songs that will be processed and provided to the Bimoba people for their mobile phones and on BiblePlus+ units for the most remote villages.
