I was born on the mission field. As an MK, I had the opportunity to observe up close the Naidanac (nay-da-nak) tribal group among which my parents serve. Many of them are nomads, foraging for areas with greener grass, which always seem to be at some distance from their homes.
Their tribal dress changes with the seasons, both male and female using often lavish clothing in the mating process. The females rather than the males are known to paint their faces in an attempt to attract the more desirable males, a tactic that is often counterproductive.
Animal skins are utilized for foot wear, belts, and sometimes for outer garments. Other clothes are ingeniously made from secretions from worms, and a fibrous ball from a plant grown in southern climes.
The Naidanac domiciles are something to behold! Not only does the hut contain separate compartments for sleeping (on pads often stuffed with the plumage of domesticated birds), eating, and other living quarters, they also have a separate room for their carriages, including hundreds of horses to pull them!
Their eating habits are eclectic, drawn from many tribes with which the Naidanacs have made contact. This includes Nailati flat bread, wagon-wheel shaped, covered with coagulated milk curd and other thinly spread foods. And many of the tribe travel some distance from their homes to find what they call “red-meat” although it has been cooked by others some time before it is eaten. This “red-meat” is often consumed with thin slivers of tubers which have been fried in oil (a very unhealthy diet). All is washed down with a dark liquid made with a stimulant extract from the kola nut.
Although many of the Naidanacs profess not to worship any god, they secretly keep idols hidden in various caches. Quite often their worship includes acquiring images of their queen engraved on small multi-colored slips of paper. These they use to barter for other idols of various sizes and shapes, one of the most desirable being made of metal, and crowned with a three-pointed star on its nose. This goddess is called in the native tongue, “Mercedes, the protectress of the journey.”
Their music is a curious blend of weird noises–banging, screeching, and grating sounds, accompanied by native grunts and groans similar to those made by the Naidanacs when in great pain. The verbal noises are supposed to mean something, but we have not been able to decipher enough to make sense of any of it.
We have seen a shocking decline in moral standards among these people in the last few years. For example, unlike even the most primitive groups in jungle settings far from what we call “civilization,” the Naidanac tribe has for some years been killing their young! Our pleading with them seems to fall on deaf ears. They also imbibe large quantities of stupefying drinks to deaden the pain they obviously feel in their godless condition.
There is a bordering group similar to the Naidanacs, although they are a much larger tribe. I have left my parents’ field of service to serve among these Naciremas (nak-a-ray-ma), as they are called.
How can we reach these people, so different from us? What training can prepare us for work on such a mission field? How can we make them understand the story of the Saviour’s love for them? Some are going to other fields, but who will show compassion to these needy souls? Such questions are vital as the time draws near when we shall give account to the Master for our service.
Perhaps you do not think these tribes are as backward as I suggest they are. But anyone familiar with them will agree that most of them desperately need the gospel, presented to them in a way they can understand. It is of little use if we communicate in our Christianese dialect. Multitudes are dying in the dark, here on our own shores. Many children are growing up in North America never having held a Bible in their hands. Yes, this is the home of the Naidanacs and Naciremas. And everyone here is either a missionary or a mission field.