Helen and I have been virtual friends for almost a year before we finally met last Saturday. She is an avid reader of this column and is especially happy when I talk to her about her country. She is Nigerian. That’s how our online email correspondence began.
The first thing she wrote to me was, as expected: Daisy’s World This was a column she particularly enjoyed: Her emails were detailed, her feedback intentional, her tone gentle.
I also liked that she was Nigerian. I feel like part of me has always been Nigerian. I’ve been fascinated with Nigeria since I was nine years old, but that’s another story.
As I always do with readers who provide feedback on my columns, I replied to Helen, thanked her for reading the column, and thanked her for her feedback. For most of my readers, things usually end here.
But Helen wrote back, and we chatted some more on that topic, then moved on to other topics. We knew we had a connection, even though we had never met in person or heard each other’s voices.
We discussed our values and discovered a lot of common ground. Eventually, we connected on WhatsApp and moved from emails to conversations.
During one chat, we agreed to meet in person and she offered to treat me to Nigerian food. She also gifted me a gift from her country, which gave us a good excuse to meet up.
Helen and I met at her convent in Kisumu, a school-like institution where Helen and 10 others are currently undergoing a discernment process before beginning religious life. In other words, Helen is working towards becoming a nun.
“Why did you think you were born to live a religious life?” I asked. I went to a Catholic high school, and none of my classes were taught by nuns or nun elders.
“It’s hard to explain, Daisy, but you know. It’s like something deep inside. Think of it this way: You’re attracted to one man, flaws and all, and you discard everyone else. Those around you may not understand what you see in him,” she said.
Her response reminded me of something Condoleezza Rice said in her 2012 commencement speech at Southern Methodist University: “…it’s [is] “It’s like finding love. You can’t explain it, but you just know it’s right.”
One of her mentors (a mentor who is already a nun, whose role is to guide Helen and her colleagues on their journey of discernment) joined Helen and me and gave us a bird’s-eye view of what they do on a daily basis.
They read God’s Word, study the history of the Catholic Church and the congregation they wish to join, learn about each other’s cultures, spend a lot of time in prayer, and of course, spend time serving the community around them.
For example, Helen is a school teacher who is particularly interested in ensuring that children from economically disadvantaged families have access to a quality education, which is also a major part of the work of the church she would like to join.
“I already had a career before I began this journey. I became a religious candidate at the age of 28. I come from a liberal family so my family was OK with my decision. But some people around me thought maybe I wasn’t OK, because there was no way I was leaving the life I was used to in pursuit of a religious life,” she asks, almost rhetorically.
As she took me into the dining room to sample the lunch she had prepared for me, one thing became clear: there are some things in life that can only be understood on a personal level. There are decisions about careers, education, life partners, and more that need to be understood in a deep way for us. Of course, if you are a Christian, you know what I mean when I say that prayer and good counsel are always essential in the process of discernment.
postscript
For lunch Egusi soup, Eva Snail combination, Pomo (beef hide) and pork. As you can imagine, I was hesitant to eat snails because I was afraid they would get in my stomach and come back to life. But Helen assured me that snails were a special meal. In fact, she said, being served snails was proof that your hosts thought highly of you! I won’t bore you with the looks of disgust that my family gave me when I told them I had eaten snails.
