Some chats about religion

I walked past one of the students studying at one of the local schools in Rubona. Jean (name changed) was wearing a traditional Muslim prayer robe and his usual Kafia, stylishly tied around his neck. “I thought you said you were Christian!” I told him, recalling an earlier conversation I had had with him, where he explained that, as a boy, he had secretly read the bible and decided to be Christian. “I believe Jesus is our savior,” he answered, “but I still go to pray in the mosque.” On that particular day, Thursday evening, he was opting out of prayer to help tutor some other students in the school. I accompanied him in his walk to the school, and he explained that “It is like a secret. I cannot tell anyone that I believe in Jesus because then the Mufti will not let me into the mosque.” I asked if he was a practicing Muslim. “Do you fast during Ramadan?” I asked. “Yes. I cannot eat during the month of Ramadan. I go to pray in the mosque a few times a week.” Curious, I asked if there were others like him – practicing Muslims who believed in Jesus. Like Jews for Jesus without the nice ring of alliteration. “Yes, there are many of us.” He could not tell me exact numbers, but he said it was common for some practicing Muslims in Rwanda to also believe in Jesus. It seems that any statistics would be hard to come by, as this isn’t something they like to talk about.

Today I bumped into Jean’s classmate, Jospeh (name changed), a Seventh Day Adventist on the way to church. His classmates were back at the school, doing chores, including cultivating the school’s bit of land, a common free-day activity in Rwandan boarding schools (and also something we do at Agahozo-Shalom). On Sunday morning he and other Adventists will do farm work.

Praying is one of the reasons students can receive permission to leave the school. Though the age ranges between twenty and twenty-five, those who are paying for boarding cannot leave the limited vicinity of the school without permission from the headmaster. I was surprised that twenty-five-year-olds needed permission to leave a school, and asked why this rule was in place – or, rather, why the students thought it was in place. Two told me, “There are some kids who create problems, like drinking” so there was a general rule that none could leave without permission and a good reason, with church or the mosque being one of a few limited reasons.

Walking past the local mosque, I am always happy to see the little W.C. indicating the existence of a public restroom by the side of the prayer room, something necessary for a religion with a religious law to wash hands before prayer. The initials feel like a little piece of cosmopolitanism that makes me feel cosily connected to the broader globe.