Lantern slide simply titled ‘Nigeria Occid. Asaba’ showing the early Asaba community along with three unidentified sisters c.1894
It is a well-known fact that the early years of the Catholic Missions into West Africa were a dangerous time to be a missionary. The presence of deadly diseases such as malaria and yellow fever in British West Africa led to the deaths of many Europeans in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. However, despite these risks, the Catholic missionaries continued to go on mission to the “white man’s grave” where they took in orphans, built schools, and tended to the sick. The cost of this work was often the lives of the missionaries who would be lucky to survive the first year of their mission with many succumbing to the feared ‘Blackwater Fever’, a complication of malaria infection.
It is from this most treacherous period of the missions that the letters of Sister Boniface come to us. Although a full record of her life does not survive, her letters to Sister Augustine back in Lyon captures in vivid detail the hardships and highlights of the early missionary life.
Her first letter comes from Lokoja where she writes to the Sister Augustin (Marie Louise Planque, Father Planque’s niece) an account of the death of her fellow Sister Emile who died on the 25th of February 1889. Her death left Sister Boniface alone at Lokoja and she asks for the provision of more Sisters to aid her in her mission. After this event she moves to Asaba, where she receives word back from Sister Augustin. It is in this second letter that much can be learned about the culture of the Igbo people, the hardships the missionaries faced, and the life she lived.
Asaba 24th April 1889
Very dear Sr. Augustin,
Your letter dated 14th February arrived here the 16th April, just at a good time, as it seemed to me that I was forgotten by everybody. It gave me great joy to receive it for you proved that you still think of your Sister in Nigeria. If only I could say the Sisters! but here I am all alone for the past two months. Oh! how sad it is! How long must I remain thus? I believe that if I were nearer to you, I would seek you out …….But no, I must remain, The good God wants it like that. I have already gone through two harsh trials. I must persevere in order to have recompense in its entirety.
Since I came to Africa I had to leave places very often, and it is not yet finished. Perhaps you do not know that I am in Asaba.
The 1st April there was a very fierce tornado which destroyed the Sisters’ house, the wind swept off the roof, the ceiling and one side of the house. It was truly providential that I was not there with the children. I thought all was finished, such was the greatness of my terror. This accident completely changed Rev. Fr. Porrier’s plans as he was not yet prepared to put Sisters in Asaba. He understood then that it was useless rebuilding the house. When we had taken everything out of the house Rev. Fr. Porrier decided to set out for Asaba with me. We had a job to get all out, seeing in what a state all the things were. Lots of things such as material, books etc were spoiled. All the Chapel linen was there, well ironed and clean before the tornado, but after it, alas!….dirty and needing washing………I don’t know if I shall ever finish ironing all the linen. There is a lot to be done for the sewing alone. I have a helper in a young 12 or 13 years old girl that Fr. Lutz from Onitsha sent to the mission to learn sewing, already she is quite good. I have named her sewing Mistress for the children.
As I couldn’t write to you before leaving Lokoja, I take up my account from that date. Rev. Fr. Porrier, the children and myself left on the 18th April, the evening of the 19th we were at Asaba. I cannot explain to you how I felt on arriving at Asaba. Here as in Lokoja I am without a Sister. Now there is no house for the Sisters. I am again with the Fathers, and even their house is not completely finished, except the two rooms I have been given, a bedroom and a work- room. There is only a ground floor, it is made up or 5 rooms and a sitting room in the centre and two other rooms at each side of it. The rooms have no windows but just two big doors (which are not yet in place!). The country-side is not as beautiful as Lokoja, there is no hill, the land is not very low however but it is only a plateau. As for the trees, they are far more beautiful at Asaba. There are very high ones which are magnificent, plenty of coconut palms, palm trees and other big trees , the wood of which can be used for frame work. The trees grow by themselves…. These poor people are not active, they say to themselves: why should I plant trees whose fruit I shall never eat. They would like to eat all before dying. Yet the people of Asaba work more than those of Lokoja. They have farms where they plant yams, haricot beans, and greens for their caloulow (a kind of sauce seasoned with Palm Oil)
There are no muslims, all are pagans …. Many are fetish worshippers and they are very attached to their fetishes. Little huts dedicated to them can be seen everywhere. The town of Asaba is cleaner than Lokoja, although it is bigger. Asaba has broad streets that the people clean now and then.
Since I came to Asaba I have been to town three times. I would prefer to go to a forest. When I walk in the roads I can see no houses, except trees. I have to go into the bush (habitations): the huts are built of earth and covered with palm leaves. The huts are composed of a verandah all around (kind of terrace) in the centre a hole or round room. One has to be careful when entering not to break one’s head or legs. The verandah is surrounded by a wall. There are 300 kings in this village. I have already visited 8 or 10. They are Kings but have no power. They are called igone. They are recognised by their costume, they wear a red skull-cap, their eyes striped all round with chalk, a big fan made of goat’s skin and some kind of loin-cloth. Their houses can be distinguished from the others as there is a small throne before the hut. It consists of two or three platforms made of earth, a pile of bones hanging in front of the Royal Chair. These are the skulls of cows, goats and other animals. These people kept staring at me when I arrived so that one would think they wanted to devour me with their eyes. They followed me in procession, some fled as I approached, as they, especially the children, were afraid of me. They asked the child who accompanied me if I were a Father! I went to a King’s house, he was happy and never stopped looking at me. I told him I was remaining in Asaba to instruct the children and women, teaching them how to work etc. He was charmed when I told him that I loved the Asaba people very much, that they were now my friends. He went to fetch some kolas, he licked them first, then passed them to me. It is a sign of friendship to offer kola. Another king I visited invited me to sit beside him on the throne. I had to refuse because I smelled from afar the bad odour of all those skulls in front of his throne. If I had accepted his invitation I would have caught a fine fever. I asked what was the reason for all those bones hanging in front of his hut. He replied: they give me wives, children, mangoes etc, they cure the sick and do all kinds of good things. Towards the close of the evening the king went to fetch a big jar full of palm wine, he also brought a glass as clean as the jar and both as black as himself, he poured and drank first, he made the round and then offered it to me. I thanked him very politely, I couldn’t bear the sight of the jar and still less the glass so how could I drink that famous skilly.
There is far more to be done here than in Lokoja as regards the children. As they are not accustomed to go to school we need time to attract them, they don’t know the way, they don’t know the time etc. We could do a lot of good visiting the sick. We often find children who are almost dying, we can gain the adults by speaking to them and baptising the children. We already have a good number of people coming to the chapel, even every day. Two children have been baptised since I came here. A number of Catholic families live in the Mission compound. Already some women come to learn sewing. At first they were afraid of the machine as they thought it was a beast.
The Constabulary is opposite the mission. There are several white men there: the Commanding Officer, the Captain, 3 officers, 1 judge, 2 doctors and often the head agent of the Niger. There are 300 black soldiers. They drill twice a day and also play twice.
There, dear Sister, is a little rundown on Asaba. I hope, dear Sister, that you will send Sisters as soon as possible. I would not be able to put up much longer with this painful situation. However I am not worrying too much just now as I am always surrounded by women and children. The days pass more quickly than at Lokoja but when I think of the dear Sisters I have lost I cannot help crying.
I must end my letter as the candle I have does not give much light. I doubt if you can read this scribble. Pray for me, dear Sr. Augustine, that the good God may always grant me the graces necessary to overcome all the difficulties I meet with. In spite of all I love the Mission and I am happy to be here.
Goodbye, dear Sister, I do not forget you in my prayers. Deign to receive the expression of my sincere affection and great gratitude.
Your devoted Sister in O.L.J.C.
Sr. Boniface.
It appears that her pleas were answered as later in 1889, Sister Boniface was joined by the Irish Sister Lucien (Ellie O’Connell) who departed for Niger on 2nd April 1889 and made her Profession in Asaba on 1st Nov. 1889. Sister Lucien would be followed by Sister Victorien and Sister Valerien who arrived early September 1892 who were in turn followed by Sister Flavian and Sister Damien in January of 1894. Unfortunately many of these new recruits would succumb to disease with Sister Victorian passing first in Asaba on the 6th of January 1893 aged 24, and Sister Lucien contracting Blackwater Fever for the third time and passing on the 11th of May 1893 in Cork where she had retreated from the mission in hopes of recovering.
The surviving community, Sister Boniface included, spent the following years working between Asaba and the nearby Illah, twenty miles away. On the 8th of January 1894 Sister Boniface writes another detailed and lengthy report to Sister Augustine wherein she recounts their journeys to Ouborou and Illah, an extract detailing the former is reproduced below.
You complain that I do not write often; I won’t try to excuse myself; it is better that I resolutely take my pen and write to you of our unpretentious work. I will begin by giving you few details of a little journey that Sr. Damien and myself made to Oubouru, one of our nearest stations to Asaba, and which is only 12 klm away. The people of that village had come several times and expressed their wish to see us going to them. We took a tent, which we had made the day before, with us as the Mission House was not yet fully built there. For an hour we found the journey was so bad, that it is indescribable. Roots of trees crossed the way in all directions, long creepers hanging from trees blocked our path at every step, trunks of trees that time had laid across the bush and were waiting for the rain and insects to destroy them obliged us to go a long way around. To crown our annoyance we had half-broken shoes which increased still more out difficulty in walking. The porters, believed they were helping all they could by their repeated salutations; they themselves were astonished that we had undertaken such a difficult task. At last, at the end of two hours, we arrived at the end of the forest and we saw the sun again. We were then near the village and on the way we met women and girls. These had never seen white women, so they threw away loads they were carrying on their heads and ran into the bush as fast as their legs could take them. Seeing us arrive the people ran in crowds to meet us. We sat up our tent on the Mission ground to the great astonishment of those people who had never seen such a flying house. All the day we were surrounded by people, men, women and children, whose curiosity missed none of our movements. In the evening we went for a walk around the village, called on the principal chiefs who were delighted with our visit and did not known what to offer us in thanks. Several begged us to remain among them as they wanted to be educated. They promised to send us their children to be taught and showed themselves very well disposed towards us. There are a greater number of children and the catechist the father has placed there will have a lot to do… During these visits the crowd pressed around us. We passed the night in the tent but there was no question of rest. Several people who were all day in the farm and had come that evening came and stationed themselves around our tent. There was no hope of sleep. The next day we took the return journey to Asaba promising that we would come back when the mission was better established.
Only a few months after this letter, and like many of her contemporaries, Sister Boniface succumbed to illness at the young age of 29, dying April 2nd at 11 O’clock, 1894 in Illah, having spent more than six years of her life on mission on the banks of the river Niger.
Although her life was cut short by illness, her diligent work on mission and her commitment to “resolutely take my pen and write to you of our unpretentious work” meant that she not only helped pave the way for so many Sisters who came after, but that she also successfully captured a snapshot of those early years which we can still look back on today.
Sister Boniface’s account of her time in Nigeria is not the only account kept in the OLA archives. Like her, many Sisters both before and after took it upon themselves to write about their experiences out on mission. Many of these early accounts were gathered together from the Generalate archive in 1985 by Sister Kostka who painstakingly translated them herself from their original French. It is thanks to her efforts that today we can easily find these early accounts of the beginnings of the OLA’s mission in West Africa. Today that work continues, as the archive strives to preserve, uncover, and share the collective history of the OLA, a history made up of hundreds of individual stories of which Sister Boniface’s is only just one of many parts.