Hope From Above

One beautiful morning in September 1998: Scientists in the Germplasm Research Institute hurried in every direction, as I walked into the familiar research laboratory. “Buongiorno, Mario,” I greeted a colleague. “Buongiorno, Nosan?” came the response. During the morning cappuccino, Mario asked, “What will you do when you return home?” “After twelve months in Europe, I want to see my family again,” I replied sipping my Italian espresso drink. Mario was not convinced: Africans do not return to their home countries once in Europe. “Not all Africans, my friend. Perhaps, my education and vision drive me into a future that leads back home,” I replied. “Something to learn there,” Mario nodded and became sober. His lively African friend was leaving. The next day, Mario waved as the train left the station, “Arrivederci Nosan.” A few hours later, I was standing at a Piazza carrying my brown leather briefcase and travel bag. Who could have guessed what awaited me in that beautiful ancient city called Rome?

“Mama,” I spoke into the telephone mouthpiece. “My son,” the familiar voice sounded. The effect was magical! After several years in Europe, I felt wanted and loved again! That must be how eaglets feel hearing the distant squawk of the arriving mother eagle. What a good feeling! “Mama, I am coming home,” I announced exuberantly. Instead, a loud silence followed! Mother broke the silence, “You cannot come back home.” “But I am already on my way, mama!” I entreated. “Life is difficult here. Stay there,” she pleaded. The telephone conversation was over. I did not know anyone in this ancient City! I turned to look at my surroundings, and thick darkness fell like a blanket. So uncertain are all things in this life, no one knows what event the next moment will bring.

Nurtured from birth in a Christian home, I was instinctively drawn like a magnet attracting metal to the distant building with a big Cross on it. The Church Hall was empty. Placing my luggage down on the floor, I walked to the altar in front and fell on my knees. Strong sobs racked my body as I prayed to God in heaven in that terrible time of need. Soon, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. Looking up with teary eyes and face, I saw the man who became my cherished Christian friend in Rome. “It is okay, brother,” Robert comforted. Unable to resist the kindness, I allowed Robert to help me to my feet: We soon walked out of the Church Hall carrying my luggage.

The next day inside the bar Tivoli, a waitress brought two authentic Italian Pizza Tonda Romana and placed them

on the table. “Gracie mille,” Robert spoke politely, as I continued narrating my story until the telephone conversation with my mother. “Like Christ, our Lord said, ‘if two people on earth shall agree and ask for anything, it shall be done for them by My Father in heaven.’ Let us act on this biblical principle,” Robert’s kind words gave me much hope when it was most needed. And that is what we did. A few days later, the idea came to take my resumé to a United Nations Organization in Rome. Then a surprise telephone call came through! “Is this Nosan Igoru?” the voice asked. “Yes, this Nosan,” I replied. “I think we have a job for you,” the voice announced!

And the thick darkness, lifted. Every time I think of Robert, I know God in heaven still answers prayers even in mysterious ways.

The world needs the power that can change human character underlying rising insecurity and thick darkness threatening the world. The world needs The One Gospel (TOG) Scripture. Hope from Above.