Halting Words for the 'Early' Jacob Adongo Atambilla

When evenings in Sandema were dark,
His footsteps on the road were heard,
On journeys long with his Bible in hand,
In Faith and works he showed the way.

From Kori number 1 to number 2 both,
From nearby Kobdema to far-off Kalijiisa,
Across streams to Nyaansa and hills to Suwarinsa,
A weary pilgrim on many treacherous roads.

With girls and boys, men and women,

With Roman Catholics and protestant folk,
With those of faith and those without it,
All their sorrows and joys he shared.

A gentle voice, a helping hand,
Knees that bleed from kneeling in prayer,
A soft cackling laugh, with seamless teeth,

The perfect listener, with limitless patience.

Long upon an empty stomach he went,

And defied both the devil and his lieutenants,
His Bible and faith were his only staff,

Upon them, he leaned and hoped and prayed.

            Read: Village Boy Impressions - Fathers

Hail the man Jacob Adongo Atambilla,
The son of Atambilla of Bongo Gorogo,
Who today walks dignified in heavenly places,

But on earth, we wail and mourn our loss.

What sweet but terrible gift we chose in Eden,
Free will and knowledge of good and evil,
Yet to die unexpectedly in prime or old age,

And not even the Almighty would say nay.

Would that we had chosen the gift of angels,

Perfect knowledge even with unrepentance,
That Jacob may live and shine ever brighter,

All the world would be better for it.

To you that would judge or deride me,

And pass me off for chaff or nothing,
"Think where man's glory most begins and ends,

And say my glory was I had such friends" as he.

When the news broke that the affable Apostle Jacob Atambilla has been called to eternity, I thought it was a joke. But I could not laugh, for I knew that no matter how mischievous the bearer of that news was, he was unlikely to joke on such a subject matter. No, it must be true. Yet I could not accept it. So, I decided that I would pretend that it was not true, and I did. I therefore did not and could not at first think about writing a tribute to him. For, to do so, would be to admit the truth of the news. I continued to keep myself in this state of denial even up until I was standing in the compound of St. Anne’s Catholic Church in Bongo where Jacob’s requiem mass was to be held. Once I saw the casket, the last nail was driven in at last and I felt heavy in the heart.

Read: Village Boy Impressions - Once A Giant Walked the Earth

I do not know what emotion I felt as we filed into the church. I sat down in the midst of some friends but seem lost. The first thing that woke me and drove the dagger of fire further into my heart was his biography. As a young man, he rode about 20km each day on his bicycle from his village to school in Bolgatanga and back. When he got married, he had nothing and both he and his wife had to do all sorts of petty trading to get by. Then his wife set off to learn a trade. I thought about this. What a virtuous, far-sighted and strong woman! God bless her tenacity.

Read: Village Boy Impressions - Unsung Heroines

I was amazed to hear that he first came to Sandema to do voluntary work and did so for several years before he was formally employed. Then he kept improving himself through work and school and finally acquired a Bachelor of Science degree in Human Resource Management in 2018! This broke my heart. I gasped and muttered that this was a horrible injustice! Here was a man who has been an expert in every aspect of Human Resource Management but been unable to work formally in that role because one needed a precious Bachelor to do so. It was then that the thought of putting this tribute together came forcefully to me.

I first met Apostle Jacob in the context of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal when he and a couple of other senior brothers (namely; Francis Luguniah and Bernard Akanbang) used to wake up Rev. Fr. Vitus and I from the old ‘mission’ house for ‘morning devotions’ in the church. This was in the late 1990s. It was then that we nicknamed him Apostle. When a prayer topic was raised, he would pray so earnestly that both Vitus and I would quickly dispense our supplications so as to stand in astonishment admiring the figure in the corner praying most fervidly, now in English, now in Gurune, now in the spirit. Other times we dozed off whilst the three Apostles prayed. I remember that, after the prayers, we always talked and wished for the day we would be able to pray so earnestly and so fervently switching between the languages we understood and that of the language of the spirit with ease and precision. I don’t think we ever mastered it as much as he.

My most intimate years with him were from 2003 – 2008 especially in the era of the Sandema Outreach Ministry. We dragged him and he dragged us all over Sandema and later to many parts of Buluk to preach the word of God. From Kori No. 1 & 2 to Kalijiisa, from Kobdema to Nyaansa, swimming the waters of Abelikpien to get there. He went to Siniesi, Doninga, Bachonsa, Fumbisi and many other places on a bicycle and spent many nights out in the cold and mosquitos. From Chiana to Katiu and beyond, he was there too. He was quite indefatigable in this and neither rain nor shine, rivers or streams, muddy, hilly or slippery roads would discourage him. I never heard him complain, no, not once. Not even about the mischievous tricks of us boys and girls who laughed him to bits when he slipped and fell on a muddy road or when he pulled up his trousers and jumped over dry ground only to land in a pit which appeared like a firm ground in the dark. He would giggle with us like a schoolboy. 

Read: Village Boy Impressions - A Tribute to Hunger

He was never one to think about his age when dealing with us. He was humble to a fault! Indeed, we hardly ever thought about his age except when we had to burden him with our petty squabbles and adolescent fears and jealousies.  When we came to him with these, he would devote so much time to listen and treat our juvenile tantrums with such patience that to date I do not think that he’s capable of getting angry over anything except with the devil. The man was an oasis of patience and tenderheartedness. He was a master in human resource and ‘unresource’ management.

That was not all, though he was very devout and fervent in his faith, he was nonetheless practical and objective and not in the list blinded by ‘faith’ or fanatical as many supposedly ‘prayerful’ Christians are. He would often go for morning devotion from 4:00 – 5:30am, before going to work from 8:00am – 5:00pm and afterwards stay back in his office to draw church and Renewal programmes with Vitus and I. Yes, he was that tireless. He attended to the physical, emotional, financial and spiritual needs of his friends with understanding and love; giving gentle advice here, financial aid there, sharing a joke and a laugh here, giving strict admonition there, fasting and praying regularly and inspiring confidence everywhere. It is very difficult to find fault with him anywhere. He was ready to admit fault and apologize anytime to adults, adolescents, and children. Indeed, as I remarked to a friend through misty eyes during his funeral mass, if I went to heaven and didn’t find him there, I would step right back out.

I could go on and on about Apostle but the void would never be filled by my words or anybody’s words. My unsteady lines above do not do him justice by a long road. He was a true friend indeed!