Kahama

Let Your work appear to Your servants,

And Your glory to their children.

And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us,

And establish the work of our hands for us;

Yes, establish the work of our hands.

Psalm 90:16-17, NKJV

I’m back in East Africa for a season, and memories of my life here over two decades ago are flooding my heart and mind. Before we had children, my husband and I made our home among the coastal Aduruma tribe. I was naive, zealous, and focused on bringing the beauty of the Lord to Africa. How foolish I was, thinking I understood His beauty. What actually happened was the Aduruma became my teachers, and I their student. In the end, the Lord established the work of my hands through His great mercy alone, despite my blindness. I was transformed in the process.

That was 25 years ago. Today, I bought my daughter her first kanga, the traditional, brightly colored cloth that Kenyan women commonly wrap over their skirts, wear as a headdress, or use as a baby sling… the uses are endless. We are visiting a friend’s village in a few weeks. Life comes full circle as I take my daughter to serve alongside me among people I love so much.

As we bumped along the road to a local bead factory, I told my daughter the story of my Duruma name —the secret African name they say everyone has, but few are aware of. 

My name was Kahama, which means Ugly. I know my name, because I was there when it emerged, among little children who knew not discretion in front of the wazungu*.

My best friend and I were headed out for a two-day journey on foot to a distant village. We were going to a gathering for women only, where we would learn from the Bible and worship God together for two beautiful days. As I emerged from my small room dressed in a colorful purple and yellow kanga (orlesso as the Duruma call it), matching shirt, hair ribbon, and shoes, a cluster of village children peered at me through my window, shouting to one another, Kahama, Kahama! 

Fatuma chuckled, then quietly suggested,

Perhaps you could change your shirt. 

Confused, I looked for a stain or a tear, which really wouldn’t have mattered much to them anyway. 

We believe that a woman is beautiful when she wears as many colors together as possible at one time. Yours all match, and that is kahama. After all, God created the world with all the colors together. 

I couldn’t argue with her. Raised in the southern United States by a grandmother and mother whose shoes, belt, and purse always matched was a hard lesson to unlearn.

I changed into a bright red shirt and a green ribbon, then put our basket of food on my head. In total, I was wearing at least six colors altogether at once for the first time in my life. We were off, and although I was known forevermore as Kahama, I learned a lesson in true beauty that day.

Does your life appear mismatched, multi-colored, with no evident pattern? Perhaps it tells a tale of true beauty. After all, God created the earth with all the colors together. Matching is so overrated.

Oh Lord, Creator of Every Color, broaden my understanding of true beauty through Your eyes and establish the work of my hands. Amen.

 

*Wazungu is the Chiduruma and Kiswahili word for white people, but literally means, “people who spin round and round.” Another example of what originated as a name given to outsiders by insightful, observant Africans, which has today become the common term for all outsiders.

 

@audreycfrank