Fr. Ned Marchessault, C.S.Sp., began his Spiritan mission in Africa in 1966, and went on to spend 56 years in ministry there. Now retired, Fr. Ned has collected and shared letters from his remarkable African journey as a missionary priest. Excerpts from select passages follow, edited together to illustrate the continuity of his work over nearly six decades. To read his letters in their entirety, please visit NedsMission.org. 

1966  “I am stationed about five miles outside of Arusha among the Wa-Arusha people. In physical appearance, language, dress and folkways, they are Maasai. But Maasai who have settled down to farm small plots of land, growing corn and beans and raising small herds of cattle, sheep and goats. Temperament wise, most are open and quite friendly. Father Simon, a native Wa-Arusha priest, and I are opening up the work among these people.

We have Mass in a classroom of a small cement block school built in the shape of a Wa-Arusha hut. The classroom is crowded with children and about fifteen adults. The entire Mass, except for the Canon, is in Swahili and they sing hymns in their own language to their own melodies.

Two weeks after my arrival, I began what will be my basic mode of activity for the foreseeable future. I live in each of the areas for four or five days at a time, getting around more and more each time in each locality –walking, visiting various huts, talking and getting to know the people.

At each stop the Mama offers me a little stool to sit by the fire, then some milk to drink or sometimes an ear of roasted corn. Then we talk for a while until my still meager vocabulary runs out.

I play with the children and give them candy. Some of you are probably familiar with a toy called the magic slate. I bought one of these. The writing disappears when the plastic cover is lifted. It amazes the kids. I’ve had a bit of fun with it and its helped to make them more comfortable with me. When we’ve had our visit, we say Serena Nikidua (goodbye till we meet again) and then I am off to the next little place along the path.

Before coming to Africa, I was frightened of being a foreigner here, perhaps for the rest of my life. Although I’ve been here only a little over a month, I feel very much at home and a part of these people already.  It’s a beautiful country, filled with very warm and friendly people and I am very happy here. 

It was dusk and the sun was just dropping below the rim of the crater (Ngorongoro) when we tried the lights on the Land Rover and found they wouldn’t turn on. I got out to look under the hood to see if a wire was loose. Just after I switched on the flashlight, I heard galloping hooves, a zebra passed me within about a foot. Chasing him about three yards behind was a large male lion, which also passed me within touching distance. After the lion, also running full out was a hyena. Needless to say that was the end of the repair work. We passed the night in the land rover on the floor of the crater.

During my visit to some of the people this morning below on the plains, a man came and said his wife was very sick and unable to walk. Fortunately, I had brought the car and parked it some distance away on a road. We carried her the two or three miles to the car and started right away for the hospital. By the time we reached town and the hospital, the Wa-Arusha tribe almost had a new member. The baby was coming as we were carrying her into the hospital. We had a few pretty tense moments.

In the evenings, the whole family gathers around the fire, and the atmosphere is much more relaxed than during the day. After the first or second day, the people are more open with me, and ready to talk about their difficulties, customs, etc. I really feel that this method is going to get me deeper into the mentality of the people - only time will tell.”

1999  “It is a quiet Sunday morning here in Endulen. Many of our students, who spent yesterday gathering firewood for the week, went early to the stream to wash their clothes. They will be dry by the time our Sunday service begins at mid-day. We start quite late because our congregation is mostly the Maasai people from their semi-nomadic encampments. The people come from distances up to about ten miles so we give them plenty of time to walk to the trading center here in Endulen.

Our service is tailored to Maasai ways of doing things. The language of the service and music is Maasai and most of the songs we sing have been composed by the Maasai people here in the Ngorongoro area. The vestments are black and decorated with cowry shells. Black is the color of the rain clouds that bring plenty to Maasai country and cowry shells also have a religious significance. Gourds that hold milk, the source of life for the Maasai people, are always decorated with cowry shells. Maasai religious leaders wear black and their staffs are decorated with cowry shells.

Our services open with gathering prayers by three people, myself and two Maasai elders. Following tradition, when elders bless, there must always be an odd number, never two, never four. When the bread and wine are brought to the altar table, we bless them with milk from a gourd decorated with cowry shells and closed with green grass at the mouth. Milk is used in all important blessings in Maasai country. It, together with the rain clouds and rich green grass, are symbols of God’s goodness and blessing for the Maasai. I hold a tuft of green grass during the entire service, a symbol of our desire for God’s blessing on our lives and our herds. Green grass means healthy cattle and plenty of milk, the basis of the good life for the Maasai.

During the Eucharist we bless the sick and those with special difficulties. Many Maasai forsake the help of their traditional witch doctors when becoming Christian. We try to fill this gap with a ceremony of blessing consisting of the laying on of hands, anointing with oil, and the sprinkling each sick or troubled person with milk from the special gourd, the same one used to bless the gifts of bread and wine. Elders of the community, both men and women, join with me in blessing the people who come forward.”

2011  “In the course of my 25 years at Endulen, Maasai catechists and I established eight active Maasai Christian communities. The work grew and when I left Endulen last June, twelve full time catechists were helping me care for these communities and doing further evangelization.

In addition to evangelization upon my arrival at Endulen in 1985, I was faced with the near lack of education among the Maasai. There were few Maasai attending primary school and very few boys going on for secondary education. In those days no girls at all had the opportunity for secondary education. I addressed this situation by establishing a prep school of one year to help Maasai girls with remedial schooling in English and Arithmetic so that they would be capable of passing secondary school entrance examinations.

Over the years, with the help of Spiritans abroad and others, I was able to underwrite the education of almost three hundred Maasai girls and boys. Some of the fruits of this program are five nurses, four clinical medical officers, five lawyers, many teachers, and many others now working in various fields among their people in Maasai country.

In a few days time, I will return to Ngorongoro to open the new Maasai mission of Olbalbal. The work will be much the same as it was in Endulen, primary evangelization among the far flung cattle camps of the Maasai and facilitating the education of Maasai young people. 

As in Endulen, I will focus on Maasai girls who, because of the pressure to be married early and thus provide their families with some short-term benefits, have little opportunity for education.

Olbalbal is about two hours from Endulen. There are numerous Maasai encampments that have not yet had the opportunity to hear the gospel and great numbers of young Maasai without opportunity for education.” 

2021  “I’ve retired to Hemet, California in the midst of COVID-19. I’ve been here for six months and am still in a daze. It was time to leave. Driving the Land Cruiser in the bush, preparing discussions to have in Maasai villages, traveling hours to do basic shopping. It all became to much. 

So here I am in Southern California dealing with all kinds of new challenges. Cooking for myself (lots of Stouffer’s microwave meals), driving on the “wrong” side of the road, being isolated due to COVID and the American way (although I’ve gotten both vaccine jabs) and just the strangeness of it all.”

Read more from Fr. Ned’s 56-Year African Journey at NedsMission.org. 

This article was originally published in the Summer 2021 One Heart, One Spirit newsletter.