Missions Report for Senegal and Camaroon

Hello Everyone,

It was really great hearing from all of you. Thanks for all of your prayers and support. We hit a few snags here in Africa with being detained and placed under house arrest by the political police. But this is usually when we see the wonders of God at work.
Seems like the Lord is really blessing your work with getting the word out in the U.S.
One of our guys, Marshal is a Camaroon national. He is still in captivity by the political police. The US embassy is reluctant to get involved. The police are not forthcoming with Marshal’s where abouts or well being. if anybody can offer assistance in freeing Marshal, he would greatly appreciate any help you can give.

There are trips to many countries and we need more here in Africa.

Here is my second report for Mr. Camping along with some more pictures you might enjoy.
I look forward to hearing from all of you and your prayers, especially for Marshal.

Here is the report.

In Christ’s Love

Brother Paul

Please see the entire photo album.

Handing out tracts in Senegal isn’t always peaches and cream. It’s a whole different ball game than standing on a busy street corner in Brooklyn or Alemeda hoping to hand out five or ten gospel tracts to a fortunate few. Our missionary team was attacked by a group of irate Muslim radicals at a bustling marketplace in Dakar, Senegal. A group of about five angry men beset upon us attempting to snatch our tracts from us. They sprayed us with black ink, punched at us, tried to choke us and one missionary was thrown to the ground.

“We had an exciting day with some young African men,” the missionary said. “There were three of us passing out tracts in one of the marketplaces and these young men were not happy with our being there as they attempted to strip our tracts from us. They were pushing and shoving us, but nobody was seriously hurt. We were more certain than ever that we should not return to that area again, or anywhere close.

Again we praise God for His sufficiency and His protection. We left that area (rather hurriedly) and found an ideal spot where we were able to distribute about 3000 tracts.”

The attack did nothing to deter us from our mission, nor was the gang successful in taking our tracts from us. To the contrary, their disturbance only aroused the curiosity of the surrounding shoppers, merchants and motorists who came to us in droves seeking a copy of our tracts and to know the message we were bringing-God’s impending judgement on the world and salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ. The people outnumbered the band of angry attackers which quickly dissolved to nothing, yet a steady stream of curious tract seekers from all directions made a short work of our tract supply and readily emptied our backpacks.

Rufisque, Senegal

The city of Rufisque, Senegal seemed to have been waiting for us after our 40 minute cab ride from Dakar. “Pssst! Pssst!” we would hear from all directions as we exited the yellow taxi. Everybody in sight wanted our tracts. Horse-drawn carts would stop for our tracts; merchants would run out to us from their shops and children would make a game out of running up to us for a tract to take back home. I was peeling off tracts like a black-jack dealer on a roll. One young man called us over and asked if we could pray for him right then and there on the street corner. As we walked the busy main street of Rufisque, the people swarmed around us. One lady lowered a basket on a rope from a 4th story balcony for us to place a few tracts into for her to hoist back up. This town was impoverished materially. Depression, boredom and loneliness was evident on many of the faces as we walked in and out of the stalls and little shops and even in the butcher where they reached over the bloody animal parts to receive our judgement day tracts. To God, they were made rich with His Holy Word, and were prime candidates for salvation by the Mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ who said “I have not come to call the rich, but sinners to repentance.”

The enemy is a tireless foe and is never without his vices. Marshal is a Cameroon national and an avid Family Radio listener. He was enrolled in FR’s School of the Bible and listens to Family Radio regularly. He was excited to see us arrive in Cameroon and eager to assist with our mission. Marshal was priceless; he assisted us at the embassy in obtaining our visas for our next country, Gabon, and was quite useful in many different ways for the mission around Camaroon.

Camaroon

Our first targets for handing out the judgement day tracts in Camaroon were the open markets. Three missionaries went to Mokolo Market while the rest went to Ekounou Market with Marshal. At Ekounou, the tracts were snapped up like hot cakes. “Psst! Psst! Psst!” was the familiar call with hands outstretched. “Are you God?” one guy shouted from his motorcycle as he zipped by us. Cars, bikes, horses, donkeys and buses would stop traffic for us so that they can receive our tracts. Many were clearly upset with our message of God’s coming judgment upon the world. You can see some reading the tracts with furrowed brows, and others would shred the tract to pieces with consternation and loyalty to Allah. Still others looked as if they wanted to shred US to pieces. The Ekounou market was roiling by our presence. Our backpack were nearly empty of tracts as the sun went down. It was time to head back to the Hotel.

Things did not go so smoothly at Mokolo. Riots have already broken out before the missionaries arrived there. They could see hoards of angry nationals stampeding down the mountainside in a violent tirade as gun shots rang out. Random fires were burning out of control and the police were powerless to stop the uprising. The missionaries ran for cover until the massive frenzy subsided or moved to another area, then the missionaries moved in to distribute the judgement day tracts to the villagers until the riots flared up again. They never knew the cause of the ruckus, but they knew it wasn’t a place they wanted to stay for long, especially as it got dark. One of them had his tracts snatched from his hands and thrown to the ground, and still there were others happy to receive their message.

One missionary was down to his last tract. The hand which reached out for that tract belonged to the head of the political police which is the US equivalent of the CIA.

“I’m the head of Camaroon Political Police, get in my truck, and your friend too!” He commanded.

The missionaries were without their cell phones just when they were needed most (there is a two day time lag for the phones to be activated).

Unable to notify their teammates who were across the busy thoroughfare that they were being accosted, the two missionaries got into the waiting SUV and were driven to police headquarters at an undisclosed location.

Back at the hotel, panic began to set in as to why the two missionaries were missing. Three went back out to the market place with Marshal to look for them, while three stayed back at the hotel to wait.

At police headquarters, the two detained missionaries were interrogated as to what they were doing in Cameroon, who they were affiliated with and where they were staying. Once the police got the names and location of their fellow missionaries, they set out to the hotel to get them.

One missionary was pulled off his computer while working in his room; others were also taken from their hotel room. As they were being interrogated in the hotel lobby, in walked Marshal and the missionaries who were out searching for the two who were missing.

“We have the two missionaries you are looking for” the police sergeant explained, “Now all of you go get your ID’s and get into the SUV and come with us; we need to verify something!” He ordered.

The group of us obediently followed the sergeant’s orders and reluctantly filed into his SUV. None of us knew what was going on or why we were being accosted; we thought we were going to get our missing missionaries and go back to the hotel.

The sergeant drove us down a dark winding craggy back road and into the prison compound with a watchtower and a 20 foot cinderblock wall topped with barbed wire that ran around the perimeter of the place. The tall iron gates locked behind us as we drove through. We were trapped.

A dreadful feeling came over us. We knew these guys weren’t being honest with us. Some of us felt as if we might not ever make it out of there. Some of us pulled out our Bibles to read, others quietly bowed their heads in prayer. We knew the Lord was in control of the situation.

We were led into a room and joined by the two missionaries who were taken from the market. The sergeant collected our passports and called each one of us into his office individually for further questioning starting with Marshal, while the rest waited patiently outside his office.

When Marshal came out, he said they wanted money.

Why are you in Africa?

Who are you affiliated with?

How long are you staying here?

Have you done this before?

What are you preaching here?

These were the questions being asked in the interrogation room through a French translator. We were all very forthright and very clear about who we were and why we were in Africa, just as Daniel was before the throne of King Nebuchadnezzar.

“To warn you and the African people of God’s imminent judgement upon the earth on May 21, 2011 and to cry out for God’s mercy and salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ for you and your family.”

The sergeant clenched his teeth in disgust upon hearing this. He claimed to be a religious man, but his demeanour betrayed him.

After the interrogation, the sergeant and his deputies went to another building and forced us to wait around for several more hours.

“So this is what jail is like,” we thought.

The Captain and his deputies finally emerged from another building with documents written in French, that they told us all to sign. After several more hours of waiting and listening to dreadful Muslim sermons booming from the TV set, the sergeant drove us back to the hotel, but without Marshal. They were keeping him. We were placed under house arrest and forbidden to distribute the judgement day tracts anymore in Camaroon.

The next morning, an agent from the American Embassy was dispatched to our hotel and documented our 10 hour detention and interrogation. She was in contact with the sergeant who told her we were destabilizing the country with our judgement day tracts. There were also elections coming up she said that we could be disrupting. The police were still holding Marshal captive and would not give her any information on him whatsoever. She had no information on him and the police would not respond to our requests for his whereabouts or wellbeing. The US embassy was very reluctant to get involved with Marshal’s captivity; he was a Camaroon national after all.

Some of us went back to the prison the next day to look for Marshal. The taxi driver who drove us there was very fearful of that place. He said these guys are corrupt and known to torture their captives. It’s a place people only buy their way out of.

We had no luck finding Marshal and were told to contact the embassy for further information. At the prison, we noticed a dark black holding pit filled with prisoners. We could not see them it was too dark in there, but we could here their wailings and howlings from outside. We shuddered to think Marshal might be among them in there. The embassy does not want to get involved. We were able to notify Marshal’s parents of his fate; that he was being held captive by the political police for distributing the judgement day tracts. He is only nineteen years old.

Back at the hotel, we were praying and searching for answers. We were granted our visas to visit our next country, Gabon, but were promised by the US embassy that we would most surely be arrested in Gabon as well if we continued to distribute the judgement day tracts. This we will leave in the hands of God. If He can part the Red Sea and make all things possible, we had nothing to fear. He can surely clear a path for us to warn the Gabonese people of His coming judgement and the glory of His salvation through our Blessed Saviour, The Lord Jesus Christ. As for our mission, we are more determined than ever to press forward with obedience to God’s command.

We are currently looking to negotiate Marshal’s release from this horrible place, the political police compound. We seem to have available resources, but our biggest challenge at this point is communication. We don’t know where Marshal is and nobody is telling us. The sergeant tells us to contact the embassy for any information, yet the embassy knows nothing nor wants to get involved. We beseech all you listeners to pray for Marshal and his immediate release and return to his family. He is only nineteen.