Two Mustaphas

Mustapha is a common name around here, so it is not surprising that in the short time we have been in Kenema, I have gotten to know two of them as well as I know anyone from Sierra Leone.  They are both in their twenties.  Mustapha G is one of the night security guards for the campus.  Mustapha S is a fourth-year student at the polytechnic. 

I met Mustapha G our second night in Kenema.  He came to our door with Nelson and Foley, two other security personnel.  Mustapha was the only one of the three in traditional Muslim dress, long robe and cap.  I shook his hand along with the others, but when Ann (a female) went to do the same, he extended his forearm, she couldn't touch his hand.  He said he would be back after going to say evening prayers at the mosque.  Our living quarters is in his sector to patrol.  In fact, he sleeps on the veranda in front of our house.  We see him every day.  It is not entirely clear whether Mustapha sleeps on our porch because he has the specific duty to watch over us, or he is there because it a comfortable and dry place to be.  In any case, after making his nightly rounds, he fashions a bed of sorts out of the benches on our porch and sleeps off and on during the night.  Sometimes I will find him in the morning sleeping on the hard concrete floor with just a few scraps of cardboard for cushioning.  He keeps warm by donning a track suit and sometimes a jacket.

The morning reveille at our home consists of several alarm clocks going off in an orderly progression.  At 4:30 a distant ram’s horn announces the soon to be heard call to prayer at the mosque.  At 5:00 Mustapha clears his throat and begins chanting his prayers.  His deep voice echoes off the walls of the veranda, a natural amphitheater, and awakens me.  Roosters begin crowing at 5:15 and motorcycles can be heard going up and down the street and beeping by 6:00.  Daybreak arrives at 6:30.   Sometimes, Mustapha’s prayers will last for thirty minutes.  He chants them in Arabic with a lilt not unlike a cantor at a synagogue.  Perhaps he is practicing to be a prayer leader.  He would make a good one.  One morning just after Eid al Fitr, Mustapha’s prayers took on a sad and plaintive quality.  Perhaps this kind of praying was what was required of Eid.  I wanted to ask him that evening if there was something troubling him, but failed to do so partly out of respect for his privacy and partly because of my own timidity.

Mustapha’s life seems to be dominated by Islam.  He wonders why we aren’t Muslims too.  We tell him that we are Christians, trying to avoid a lengthy conversation on religion.  However, he is persistent, and this tactic does not always work.  On these occasions we will engage him in conversation, content to deepen our limited understanding of his religion.  Mustapha quizzed us on our knowledge of the five pillars.   Having taught a few lessons on world religions in Unitarian-Universalist spiritual education classes, we can come up with four: fasting during Ramadan (Sawm), pilgrimage to Mecca (Hadj), five prayers a day (Salat), and looking after the poor (Zakat).  The fifth one Mustapha informs us is, “ Allah is the one God.” God is great, “Allahu akbar,” he says.  He reminds us of another phrase that seems to extract itself from our distant memories, “Bismillah,” (In the Name of Allah).  This is said on almost any occasion (before eating, for example) to chase away the devil, who seems to be lurking everywhere.  Mustapha must realize that we are poor students of the Moslem catechism, but his attempts at proselytizing seem to be in earnest and not filled with any kind of animosity.  Sierra Leone is known throughout western Africa for its religious tolerance.  Mustapha thinks we are missing out on something big by not becoming Muslims, but seems to be accepting of our position for the moment.

Islam gives structure and purpose to Mustapha’s life and the lives of an estimated 60% of the people of Sierra Leone.  Life is not easy here.  It helps to have a strong faith to face the challenging demands of daily life.  One must be up to the task.  Things will turn out for the better, “Inshallah” (God willing.)  We hear this phrase often.  It is a standard response to “How are you doing?”  I take it to mean “I am not going to tell you that I am fine, but I am doing alright, thanks to Allah.”  It is an expression of humbleness found in most religions.  It reminds me of the Lake Wobegon Lutherans who Garrison Keillor says won’t admit to being happy.  The pride of contentment could lead to one’s fall.  “Things could be worse,” is a reminder that we are not in control of a lot of things that affect our lives.  What Mustapha can control is how well he can practice Islam.  The pillars are his rock.

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I met Mustapha S also in my first week in Kenema.  He was sitting outside the computer lab building studying with his classmates Moses and George.  They are the only fourth-year math students at the polytechnic.  To earn their degrees, they must write a series of three-hour comprehensive papers (exams).  Mustapha’s final paper was to be on calculus, vectors, and mechanics.  He asked me if he could come to our house to ask some questions about some of the problems that he was studying.  I said that I would be delighted to help in any way I could.

Over the next few weeks we discussed a variety of math topics: double integration in polar coordinates, the gamma function, Laplace transforms, and the numerical solution to first order differential equations.  Mustapha is an excellent student and very careful with his work.  He helps out with the Distance Learning program here which provides practicing teachers additional opportunities to improve their skills during holidays.  Sometimes he is called upon to substitute for lecturers in the math department.

I am always curious as to why someone studies mathematics.  I posed this question to Mustapha.  His answer was immediate.  He told me that ever since he was in grade school, he has always been good at math, the top student.  His parents, both teachers, encouraged him to pursue higher education.  He said that he likes mathematics for its unchanging nature.  Once the veracity of something in mathematics is affirmed through logic, it is established for all time.  I admit that this is a quality that I too greatly admire about math.  It is the closest thing to Truth that I know.  Plus, there are so many beautiful and surprising mathematical results.  For Mustapha and me, it is amazing that the gamma function, which involves an improper integral of the product of exponential and the square root functions, evaluated at ½ is the square root of pi.  Mathematicians have toiled for centuries to evaluate the gamma function for other rational numbers with little success.  Naturally, these unobvious truths are the most precious to us.  Rediscovering one of these mathematical gems is almost as rewarding as finding a Kenema diamond in a pool of mud.

Mustapha is fascinated by problems associated with famous mathematicians: Newton, Euler, Laplace.  To him, big names mean big ideas.  He has faith that if he continues to study the works of these mathematical giants, he too can achieve success in a country where jobs are hard to find.  He told me that he doesn’t want to be a school teacher.  He’d rather be a statistician working for a large company in Freetown.  But, teaching is a start, as Sierra Leone is in desperate need to improve its educational infrastructure.  Mustapha will study math one more year to earn his National Diploma.  This he says will force a school to pay him what he thinks he is worth.  Mathematics is his chosen road to freedom.




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