In the heart of darkest Africa, far south of the city of Lusambo, the peaceful Baluba tribe lived. Their homes of clay walls and thatched roofs were wide spread over a pleasant valley between the Sankuru and the Lubi rivers, where fish abounded. Happy and prosperous were these primitive people until the Basongi tribe, under their bloodthirsty leader, Pania began to oppress them.
Many tales are told of the fiercely fighting Baluba as they sought to repel the dread Basongi, cannibals who carried guns like the Arabs. One brave muluba, or young man, of the Baluba tribe, named Kibalabala, was especially renowned. With only a spear as a weapon, he many times routed the foe, and killed of the cannibal gunmen more than fifteen or twenty, thus saving his town and his people.
For some time the Baluba village had been left in quietness, and a sense of security spread over the beautiful valley. To preserve their safety, the heathen hearts of the tribesmen trusted only in their own prowess in battle, for they had never heard of the almighty God, the Lord of Hosts, who is able to save to the uttermost them that put their trust in Him. Thus they became careless and no longer watched for signs of an enemy.
How like this is to the unwary, lost world upon whom the coming of the day of the Lord shall be "as a thief in the night"! "For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them." 1 Thess. 5:33For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape. (1 Thessalonians 5:3).
So it was that one morning at dawn, before the first ray of sun had lit the eastern sky, the peaceful village was aroused by the red-brown cuckoo's cry from the forest. How serene and quiet was the scene!
But see! Creeping through the tall rank grass, dark forms and savage faces peer through the gloom. What evil fate does this forebode for the little hamlet?
The doors are opened; women carrying hoes prepare to work in the fields of grain. Out come the men with traps and nets, to go to the river for fish. The very old and the very young watch the busy preparations from the doorways. But from the tangled grass a loud gunshot explodes in the face of that unsuspecting, defenseless crowd; and one, bravest and best of the Baluba, falls dying with a bullet in his breast.
On much of that one-sided battle we draw the veil. The doomed town was surrounded with a ring of fire, assuring its destruction. The few who dared resist were, one by one, ruthlessly shot down; and the fierce gunmen who, like the python, tightens its coils around its prey, pressed ever closer till all resistance gone, the victory was theirs.
Among the captives there's none so sad as one tall woman. Not her own fate is her care; but she would gladly die to save her sister's child, Mwaluki, and her own little daughter. Well she knows each child must now grow up a slave. Indeed, all those wretched captives know full well the hopelessness of their lot, and in deepest woe, they weep and wail and beat their breasts. And the victors, the Basongi? They feast upon the slain!
Several days elapsed. On the weary way to the big river, the captives learned that the meat supply was exhausted; and at close of day the fierce Basongi must be well fed. These gluttonous cannibals require a special delicacy, for they have eyed covetously Mwaluki and her young friend and cousin. So to the aunt and mother comes this awful message: "This night we appease our hunger on one child. Give which you please!”
What a hard choice for the loving heart of aunt and mother! Her dying sister's last request was that she take Mwaluki in her stead. Her loyalty and promise decide the test. With her arms tight around Mwaluki, she gives her own dear child to be killed and eaten by the cannibals that night.
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." John 15:1313Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13). How this act of sacrifice on the part of a heathen woman should stir the hearts of those so privileged in this day to know the story of God's far greater Sacrifice for us!
Years went by, while the little slave girl grew into young womanhood. Faithfully she served her master, performing her daily duties cheerfully and well, but always remembering the awful price that had been paid for her life. How it must rejoice the heart of the great Father-God when His blood-bought children remember what He paid to redeem them! "Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold... but with the precious blood of Christ." 1 Peter 1:18,1918Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, from your vain conversation received by tradition from your fathers; 19But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot: (1 Peter 1:18‑19). One evening a man, his wife, and three children, journeying on foot from a faraway village stopped to rest for the night under a sheltering tree near the hut occupied by Mwaluki's master. Feigning kindness to the wayfarers, he offered them the hospitality of his home, which they gladly accepted.
When the travelers were deep in sleep, the wily Basongi who coveted their goats and old flintlock gun, stole silently to the slumbering forms. Swiftly the blows of his sharp dagger claimed the lives of each of the trusting family.
But "be sure your sin will find you out." The murdered man's relatives traced him to his murderer. He was proved guilty and a fine assessed which must be paid in slaves; and again Mwaluki was among those who had now a new master.
After a few more years a young man came into the town where Mwaluki's new master dwelt. The tall, comely maid won his heart; and with honest pride he paid the dowry and received Mwaluki as his bride. To Inkongo, among his relatives and friends, he took her; and together they established a little home with a flourishing vegetable garden and a field of corn, all fresh and green.
One moon-light night, the natives were sitting around their little camp-fires. They were talking and laughing, free from care and fear. But all noise hushed as three strangers approached—two white men and a lady. In the center of the village street they seated themselves on three folding camp-stools, and there they sang a hymn. The villagers all crowded near to listen closely to whatever their strange visitors might have to say.
And what a story it was! The speaker first convinced these simple folk of their sinful nature and of their own helplessness to change it, even with prayers and sacrifices to their wooden gods. He spoke of the awful doom awaiting those who face a holy God, their sins unforgiven.
Then he told them of One mighty to save, who looked in pity from His heavenly throne down upon poor sinners here below; how He saw their guilty, lost condition and in His great love for them He gave His own dear Son—Jesus, His name—to die that sinners might live. In simple words these simple folk were told the wondrous story of Calvary and that, through believing it and receiving God's Son, Jesus, they could be saved now from the penalty of their sins and would spend eternity with Him in glory.
When the three visitors had left, the wondering crowd dispersed. This story was news indeed to them, and some desired to "think it over." Others quickly dismissed it as merely an evening's entertainment, and soon forgot it. But God had prepared the hearts of some to receive the sweet story of His love, and Mwaluki, more than all the rest, appeared to yearn to know that wondrous Savior. Again and again she went to listen and to learn.
At first, condemned in her own heart as a lost sinner, she sadly acknowledged her unworthiness to face a holy God. But then, told of His tender love and matchless grace, Mwaluki's own story prepared her to believe and accept a work fully done, a complete redemption founded on faith alone. In owning Jesus as Lord, her ransomed heart was filled with joy and peace! and in her baptism in the nearby river she openly confessed her allegiance to her risen Savior.
In the eight years since then Mwaluki's great desire has been to serve and follow her Lord. All around her see constant evidence that she can honestly say, "Christ in me, the hope of glory.”
Do you, my reader, proclaim Christ as your Savior? Do you daily seek to be used of Him to lead others into the light of that glory? In your privileged position much has been committed to you. Solemnly let me warn you that in like measure, much shall be required of you in that day.