This past Sunday we were invited to a pastor friend’s baby naming ceremony. He asked me to preach and then announce the name. The child’s name was to be Beatrice Moyoom. Moyoom means “unity” in Bimoba, their ethnic group.
Being Bimoba, their worship service was a bit different from our typical Mamprusi ones. For one, we couldn’t understand anything since Bimoba is very different from Mampruli. They also have some unique dances – most notably the one we refer to as the Bimoba Booty Dance in which they keep their bodies as still as possible while shaking their butts very rapidly. It’s impressive.
Another thing they did was rhythmic bursts of six handclaps at moments throughout the service. They clapped that way to greet each speaker, to praise the Lord, to segue between parts of the service and so on. It was very interesting.
Before announcing the baby’s name to the congregation, I preached on John 17:20-23 where Jesus prays that all believers will have unity “so that the world may believe” in Him. Then I charged them to have unity in raising the new child so that she may one day also believe in Christ.
Our good friend, Sala, told me she was pregnant last spring. As her belly grew and grew and grew, I asked her when she was due. She didn’t know, but instead passed me her prenatal card to look for myself. To my surprise, a doctor had noted from an ultrasound: “Impression – twin gestation.” When I asked her if she knew there were twins inside, her jaw dropped. She didn’t. Read More
God’s Word is greater than man.
All the steps involve multiple members of the family and sometimes even extended family. The sowing is definitely the easiest part and the weeding is by far the hardest. Long days were broken up by a lunch break in the cool shade of a tree where we ate bean cakes his wives prepared right there on the spot (from scratch!).
This corn harvest is extremely important to the family since it will be their primary food source for the next year. They will grind it to make a flour which will be cooked as sa’abu (or tuo zaafi), the main staple in the region. This bland mash is eaten daily with various soups made of leafy vegetables.
Traditionally, it’s the husband’s job to provide the staple and the wives’ responsibility to provide the ingredients for the soups to accompany it.
“A (good) name is better than food.”
There’s no shame on birthing day.