Teatime in Mogadishu: My Journey as a Peace Ambassador in the World of Islam, by Ahmed Ali Haile, as told to David W. Shenk. Harrisonburg, Virginia: Herald Press, 2011.
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When Ahmed Ali Haile, an avowed Somali Christian and the author of Teatime in Mogadishu, died of cancer in April 26, 2011, Somali commentators from all walks of life eviscerated him as an apostate who had been a disappointment to his community. The Somali Christians, some missionaries, and a small number of Somali intellectuals described his death as a loss of a brother, a mentor, and a peacemaker. As a member of ‘Somali Intellectual Forum’, I was amazed by how some Somali educated elite reacted. Some were genuinely saddened by Haile’s passing and, in fact, prayed for him by using the phrase Muslims say when someone dies; “May Allah have mercy on [so and so].” One imam, who is also a U.S-trained attorney in Minneapolis, told the group that they could not pray for Haile because he was not Muslim. The reaction from some of the members of the forum was swift, and the imam was accused of nearsightedness, fanaticism, and haughtiness. Perhaps two or three individuals came to the imam’s defense, who was merely trying to clarify the Islamic position on praying for a non-Muslim. It was normal for Haile to provoke such a visceral reaction, even after his death.
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When Ahmed Ali Haile, an avowed Somali Christian and the author of Teatime in Mogadishu, died of cancer in April 26, 2011, Somali commentators from all walks of life eviscerated him as an apostate who had been a disappointment to his community. The Somali Christians, some missionaries, and a small number of Somali intellectuals described his death as a loss of a brother, a mentor, and a peacemaker. As a member of ‘Somali Intellectual Forum’, I was amazed by how some Somali educated elite reacted. Some were genuinely saddened by Haile’s passing and, in fact, prayed for him by using the phrase Muslims say when someone dies; “May Allah have mercy on [so and so].” One imam, who is also a U.S-trained attorney in Minneapolis, told the group that they could not pray for Haile because he was not Muslim. The reaction from some of the members of the forum was swift, and the imam was accused of nearsightedness, fanaticism, and haughtiness. Perhaps two or three individuals came to the imam’s defense, who was merely trying to clarify the Islamic position on praying for a non-Muslim. It was normal for Haile to provoke such a visceral reaction, even after his death.
In my life, I only met one Somali Christian, an acquaintance in California, and I knew of another man through a mutual friend. The first man was a political asylum seeker who claimed to be a Christian, and the latter was an ordained minister. The first came to my community office, sometime in 1999, consulting me about a letter he had received from an immigration officer. The letter ordered the man to leave the United States within 30 days because, as a Somali Christian, he was not part of a persecuted group. The Somali man was further advised that he could not appeal from the immigration examiner’s final decision. The man told me that he had regularly attended Mass in Kenya but that he still regarded himself as Muslim. In fact, he told him he had come from the mosque before he came to see me.
The other man was a Somali from Kenya named Mohamed Yaqub, who had an advanced degree from Princeton. According to my mutual friend, a woman who had once come close to marrying Mr. Yaqub, there were times he cried because he said he was confused about his religious beliefs, and he worried what his parents would think of him had he told them about his new faith. Other times, Yaqub reportedly repeated the same calumny and accusations that some critics of Islam make (i.e. the treatment of women and Prophet Mohamed’s marriages). But after some time, I heard that Yaqub became an ordained minister in Minnesota and was, in fact, a community activist providing ESL (English as a Second Language) classes to Somali refugees in Minneapolis. Then, sometime in 2009, I read that Yaqub had killed himself in November 2008.
Ahmed Ali Haile was never confused about who he was and his mission in life. He was not a man racked by doubts. Born in Bulo Burte (Dusty Village) in central Somalia in 1953, Mr. Haile grew up in a Muslim family. As a child, he memorized the Qur’an and enjoyed attending religious classes offered by a local imam. He had heard that Muslims believed in the “Scrolls of Abraham, the Torah of Moses, the Psalms of David, the Gospel of Jesus,” and, of course, the Qur’an. But Haile had not seen any of these other books. He was curious to see what these books had to say. By age 15, Haile contracted cerebral malaria and became bed-stricken. He was hospitalized in a small hospital run by a group of missionaries in his hometown named Sudan Interior Mission (SIM). As a patient, he had discretionary time, and he asked an Australian nurse to give him something to read so he could brush up his English. She gave him a narrative about Prophet Joseph from the Bible. Haile became enthralled with what he read. He started reading the Bible regularly but was still grappling with conflicting issues about his faith as Muslim and what he was learning from the Bible. After a short period, Haile and a friend visited Marc Erickson, a medical doctor at SIM and announced that they wanted to be Christians. . Erickson was not only treating patients, but he would invite some of the youth to play basketball with him and then read the Bible to them in his home. It was illegal to proselytize Christianity to Somalis. The doctor was stunned and told the two teenagers, “But you know you will be rejected by your people, persecuted, and maybe killed,” The rest is history. Haile became Christian and was baptized in Mogadishu at Secondo Lido beach.
Haile would later move to Kenya to study Christianity further and would come to the USA to attend Mennonite schools and Indiana State University, where he earned degrees in economics and peace studies. After brief stays in Somalia, Haile and his family moved to Nairobi where he became a full-time professor at Daystar University, a Christian institution. He specialized in working with Somali Muslims and spreading the Gospel. In 1992, Haile went to Somalia to mediate between warring factions, but Warlord Mohamed Farah Aidid was incensed with the Somali Christian from America, who was meddling in his backyard. According to Haile, Aidid’s militia launched a rocket-propelled grenade at the house where Haile and some elders were meeting. Haile was seriously wounded and had his leg amputated. Haile did not give up and kept going back to Somalia to mediate the warring factions. His approach, though, was unique. He wanted a Christ-centered approach to solve Somalia’s intractable problems.
Teatime in Mogadishu is a memoir of Haile and his attempts to sit with Somali elders, one cup of tea at a time, to bring peace to Somalia. He states in the book that he has deep appreciation of his Muslim heritage because it was that tradition that brought him to Christianity. “It is a story that bears witness that when I met Jesus and the church, I came home,” he says. “My Muslim heritage prepared me to believe in Jesus Christ…Whether I live or die doesn’t really matter, for my calling now and in eternity is to glorify Jesus Christ. That is what this memoir is about.”
Haile, in his own admission, had difficulty getting along with some Somali Christians and missionaries. He was expelled from the Somali church in Nairobi because he was seen as a polarizing figure. The Somali church installed him as a leader and then decided to remove him asking him to worship elsewhere. Haile had fractious relationship with senior missionary officials. Some of these leaders were outraged by his attempts to recruit poor Somali refugees to become Christians. The concern was that Haile was encouraging dependency among Somali refugees on the church. He was providing food and cash, according to an article in Aljazeerah.net (10/31/2010) to Somali women in return for them becoming Christians. A woman named Maimoun told Al-Jazeerah that Haile had given her $500 if she accepted Christianity as her religion. She did and urged other Somali families to do the same. But Haile later found out about Maimoun’s commitment to Islam and he cut off her assistance. The missionaries were wondering if some of these refugees were more interested in food than accepting Christ as their Savior. On another occasion, Haile felt slighted when he applied for a position as director of the SIM in Somalia. SIM International, which was re-opening its offices in Somalia, did not want its director in that country to be a Somali Christian. In essence, Haile was seen as a total liability. To avoid a public relations fiasco, SIM international decided not to open its offices in Somalia. Haile was devastated by the decision. He believed that he knew more about Somalia and Somali Christians than anyone else. He was a man fearlessly imbued with self-confidence. But Haile’s disappointment with Somali Christians’ decision to exclude him from their church was evident. “We Somalis can be divisive in our relations with one another,” he lamented. “We are individualists.”
Haile’s book raises some nettlesome issues. The idea of a 15-year old boy embracing Christianity in an overwhelmingly Muslim country resurrects the ingrained mistrust of missionaries by Somalis. This was based on the Somalis’ long-held views that the missionaries, though they were providing essential social, medical and educational services, were deeply engaging in converting Muslims. While no one can say a teenager cannot make a major decision such as switching faiths, children at that critical age are mostly impressionable. It is obvious that missionaries like Dr. Marc Erickson, was circumventing the law of the land and was actively engaged in concerted efforts to spread the Gospel among Muslims. Haile sees no problem with that approach. In the 1970s, the Somali government, under Siad Barre, expelled the missionaries from Somalia. But after few years, the government allowed them back.
Teatime Time in Mogadishu is a book that will be hailed by Somali Christians and missionaries. For many Somalis though, the book may be a nonfactor. Haile, in an interview, had promised that he “will never speak critically of Islam because Islam prepared [him] to believe in Jesus Christ.” But, in his memoir, he provides scalding critique of his former religion for its disregard of the cross, for its focus on retributive justice rather than forgiveness, and for its failing to comprehend the nature of salvation. Regardless of how people perceive Haile, he is already an integral part of modern Somali history. He was, after all, the most prominent Somali Christian in the last two decades.