Under the Knife

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Why would anyone want to cut their child and cause them pain? At first, it might be hard to imagine a logical reason. But think about it—what about getting shots at the doctor? Those certainly hurt. Or what about spankings to correct bad behavior? So, why do we hurt our children? To protect them from something far worse than momentary pain.
Recently, all the children in our quarter got terribly hurt in order to prevent sure death, or at least that’s what their parents believe.
One day, an old man, a father and grandfather of many children, came to talk to Toussaint. “We need your help,” he said. “Our most powerful fetish [demigod] up in Tora has announced that he soon will pass through all the villages and towns. Any children he sees that don’t have scarification will die and follow him as spirits. We have to act now, or many of our children will die. I have contacted the man in Pouya who does scarification for our tribe. He has already started the ceremonies to purify and protect himself. In a couple of days he will arrive here. He charges 1,000 francs per child, and we also need to provide food for him. But I don’t have enough money. Can you help me?”
Toussaint told him that we are always willing to help, especially children, but in this case we couldn’t because we do not support fetish worship or any related ceremonies. Everyone here knows we are Christians, but in their minds that doesn’t necessarily exclude traditional practices. Many people in our quarter go to one church or another on Sundays, even as they practice fetishism at home. But in this case we made our position very clear, and another father who came a day later received the same answer. We started praying that God would somehow disrupt the scarification ceremony.
Facial scarring is widely practiced in Benin among many different people groups. It is a sign of tribal identification, and the fetishes require it. When a person dies without facial scars, the Otammari believe that the fetish will not recognize him, and he cannot become an ancestor spirit.
The day of the ceremony was a Sabbath, and we went to church. On our way home, we passed a lady carrying a child with a freshly cut face. At home we heard the news that at least 40 kids of all ages, down to less than three months old, were awaiting the ceremony, locked up in a house so they couldn’t run away. Confining them was probably unnecessary, since the kids were all more terrified of being killed by the fetish.
After lunch, when we went out to sit on our back porch, we heard children screaming and crying. When I went back to church for an afternoon program, Toussaint decided to walk over and see if he could catch a glimpse of what was happening. The sacred place of the scarification ceremony was framed by a line of ashes. Nobody was allowed to cross the line except the person escorting the children, the ladies holding them, and the old man doing cutting. From afar, Toussaint was still able to observe some things. He saw two old ladies sitting facing each other, their knees touching. The smaller children were put on their laps, one lady holding the head, and the other holding the arms and legs. The older kids would kneel and lay their heads on one lady’s lap. There they received their cuts—first on one side of the face, and then the other. They also took cuts on their upper arms and chests.
When they were done with one child, the next one was brought and put down on the bloody thighs to be cut with the very same bloody knife. Health agents try to teach people to at least make sure each child is cut with a new razorblade, but the fetishes reject these foreign innovations. To please them, the cutting must be done with a traditional knife made out of a special type of iron. After the cutting, the wounds are covered with shea butter to prevent skin infection. Of course, this does nothing to prevent blood-borne diseases.
At the end of that Sabbath, there were still more than 10 children waiting, so they decided to continue on Sunday.
A few days later, a group of children came by our house. They were proud of their swollen, greasy faces. Not only had they proved that they were courageous, they also had escaped sure death.
One of the boys who visits our house regularly refused to get cut. He is a grandchild of the old man who asked our help. He already had scars on his face from when he was he was much younger, but he refused to take the required cuts to his arms and chest. He stood firm, and amazingly they let him go. That took real courage, and we praise God for protecting him.
We are planning to have a small evangelistic campaign in our classroom in October. We are already working on the program, but we are very aware that we need divine intervention to break down the strongholds of Satan. No word preached from our lips can do that, only the power of the Holy Spirit. Will you please pray with us for our Otammari people?

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