The late afternoon was crisp and cold. Winter winds whipped across the snow covered hills around Ames, Iowa when my grandmother Nora Ann Royer was born. It was December 14, 1934. A short seven months later she was being carried through the steamy African jungle, swinging in a tin bathtub between two natives.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
Her parents, now with two small children, were starting their second term as missionaries in Nigeria. Leaving the comfort and stability of their American home was no small sacrifice. The missionary work demanded a full-time day as well as coping with the challenges of finding clean water and food. However, Africa provided an adventurous, exciting childhood for Nora and gave her appreciation for a different culture.
Nora loved telling her grandchildren about the exiting experiences of her childhood. As a small child she was carried around on the back of a young African girl who looked after her while her parents cared for the sick (especially lepers) and taught local villagers how to read and write. Home remedies sufficed for the many tropical sicknesses and sores that plagued them. The nearest hospital was 500 miles way.
Nora and her family also made some thrilling and electrifying excursions. Once on a family trip, her father took them to the “Lake of Crocodiles”. Despite warnings to be cautious, the whole family eagerly pressed forward toward the lake, scanning the water for signs of the dangerous predators. It was small, with wide mud flats around the edges - not a crocodile in sight. Suddenly a muddy log a few yards away from them moved.
Within seconds, mud flats and lake were seething with hundreds of the writhing, toothy reptiles! After a swift retreat, the family watched the sight they knew no white person had witnessed before in silence and awe. Locals told them afterwards that the crocodiles liked to wait for animals to come and drink at the lake and then eat them. They were lucky to escape with their lives. Nora felt more comfortable back in the jeep – out of harms way.
In addition to all the beauties of nature, they had to be continually aware of its dangers. Sometimes marauding herds of elephants stormed through the countryside smashing trees, crops, and even entire villages.
Pumas and leopards prowled around and could be heard screeching in the night. Periodically swarms of locusts descended on the already barren land, devouring everything in sight. Sometimes, however, the eaters became the eaten. Nora recalls her village enjoying great feasts, sometimes lasting for days, when the locusts came. The people consumed quantities of this rare and much needed protein.
One unforgettable and frightening incident took place on another family outing. Driving along a dirt path, they suddenly heard drumming, chanting, and shouting in the distance. They soon came across two lines of men facing each other, war paint on their faces and spears at the ready. The chanting grew louder and spears started flying.
The drums rolled, becoming deafeningly loud and increasingly frantic. It became clear that these were no war-games. The spears were sharp and the tips dipped in poison. All the men were highly skilled, and the weapons rarely missed their mark. The guides urged the family back out of danger - just in time. As a child, Nora viewed it as an exciting adventure, but in retrospect realized their lives had been in danger.
Nora’s family and the three other western missionary families in the area enjoyed observing some of their own American holidays. One New Years Eve, Nora’s father offered to fire his gun at midnight to mark the beginning of the coming year.
Out there in the bush, wristwatches were hard to come by, and he was lucky enough to be one of the few to own one. Not one for late nights, however, her father grew sleepy, and at about 9:00 p.m. shot off his gun. Everyone went happily to bed – none the wiser!
Along with the accounts of her adventures, Nora also reminds her grandchildren of the poverty and suffering that the poor of the world experience. She and her family encountered only some of it. Nora also points to her parent’s attitude of love and sacrifice as a standard she has tried to live up to. Now, at 80, she lives in New York State.
Not long ago she spent two years visiting Australia. She often told how this country reminds her of her childhood in so many ways - the rough, pioneering beginning in a new and unfamiliar home. She admires the brave settlers who tackled the harsh climate and conquered the land, making Australia what it is today.
