African Rainstorms

How does one find the words to describe an African rainstorm?

I guess one most start with the word- African. One thing that all Africans know, is that this continent (it is not a country by the way, no matter what Paris Hilton thinks) is a land where nature always deals in absolutes. From the Sahara Dessert, with it scorching hot sun, to the dense rain forest of Congo; Africa is all or nothing! Flooding or draught, heat or cold, war or peace.

I think that this extreme nature, is what is so appealing. In this modern world of homogenised, chemical infused, plastic covered life, people are drawn to this mystic land of raw, undiluted, intensity. The blessing and curse of Africa is this intangible gift, INTENSITY! If I could brand the nature of Africa with a quote it would be from the Bible, Ecclesiastes 9:10 "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might...".

So, when the reader hears the words "African Rainstorm", please do not imagine the little sprinkles of the outside world, he must think of an AFRICAN Rainstorm.

Now to the next word... rainstorm. This word is made of two parts, rain and storm, of which I will deal with the former first. As I read from a Polish journalist once, I wish Africa could have been described and recorded in it's own words, for our western words seem to give it such injustice. Words like 'foliage', 'Savannah', and others just do not seems to truly grasp the meaning, or paint the proper pictures. So is the case with the word 'rainstorm'. This elicits the idea of claps of thunder, and rain fall. But the rainstorm here is so much more than that! Picture this...

First the rain drop- here the drop is not even that, it is not a small piece of water that falls from the sky. It is as if the sky is dropping cannon balls of water on earth seeking to pound the ground into submission. One direct hit in this kind of rain storm, and the victim is dripping, three or more and even the person's sock are wet (if he is wearing any). This is African rain, intense, constant, heavy. When rain comes, the sound is deafening. The percussion of sounds removes all sound, but that of the thunder. It is the sound of a million tribal drums, beating off every zinc roof, and concrete slab.

Next the word storm...
The African equation for storm is: wind + lightening/thunder = storm

First wind-
The African rainstorm's wind makes the umbrella thoroughly useless. This wind seemed to be demonic in its creativity. It moves all places at the same time. It is intense at times like a hurricane, bending the palm trees, but then it will stop, seem calm, and then change directions in an instant, and begin to swirl and twist. It does not howl, it blows, with such intensity at times, that a person must wonder if it is trying to take everything along with it. The wind pushes until every last trace of heat is siphoned from the ground, and a slight chill enters the air, the kind that only comes to West Africa after a rainstorm.

Last the lightning and thunder- So much less thunder, then lightening, but the few explosions are so intense that they rattle your bones. They rebound in the ears like the thudding of fireworks on 4th of July. But, overwhelming these sounds, are the lights. hundreds of bolts of heated light! Jagged lines that cut through the sky, and lighten the densely dark sky with a flash of bright light. They do not drop from the sky, they pass in all directions. Side to side, top to bottom, it even bends at times going first to the side, then down, and finally up.

All these put together helps a person to understand just what someone means when they say the words, "African Rainstorm."

Sunday at church we had such a storm. The rain disturbed our attendance, but not God's working. Pastor Andrew was able to witness to a adult man that has been attending the services. We are thrilled to say that Bismark trusted Christ. As Pastor Andrew was able to finish with Bismark, Joe and I, carried all our bench back to their storage place. Needless to say, after just one trip we where drenched. But, it was great, we where laughing the whole time, like two little boys playing in puddles. (We did play a little bit).