A Time for
Prayer
March, 1961 — It was
hot; it was late, and everyone was tired. The Conference members had
gone over and over the same ground; vote after vote was indecisive, and
now several people had to depart, leaving behind unalterable votes.
Would the dream be finished now, after so much had been accomplished?
It was time for more prayer . . .
ICA classroom, staff house and storage shed - c1962
The Need
One of the most painful decisions a missionary parent must
make is to send a child off to boarding school. And this pain continues
with each separation during each school year.
As early as mid-1951, when CBFMS (now CBInternational) missionaries had been
in Côte d'Ivoire for only four years, the issue arose that there
were problems in sending the children to the closest missionary kids'
(MK) school, Mamou in Guinea.
And these problems were of major consideration: Mamou was about 725 miles
from Korhogo, one of the main mission stations, by the shortest route.
This trip took three days each way with much wear and tear on the missionaries
and their vehicles and it needed to be done twice a year.
This also brings to mind that the school year was a continuous eight months
long during which the children and parents were separated, a very painful
and difficult situation. One house father pointed out that the eight straight
months had proved to be a real strain on the house parents, the teachers
and the children, especially the older ones who were dealing with homework.
At the end of the current system's three-month trimester, we can just
begin to feel the stress that would be caused by five more months of the
same without a break.
The new school in Côte d'Ivoire ultimately decided on two four-month
sessions. The whole point of both systems was to coordinate the school
year with the missionaries' field evangelism programs, so that the childn
would be in school during the dry season, which was the best time for
evangelism, literacy work, and Bible schools. During the rainy season,
when most of the Africans needed to be in their fields, the missionaries
worked closer to home, studying the language and preparing materials,
and it was the best time to have the children around.
First dorm building - Bethany c1962
Another problem was the cost of participating in Mamou, which was run
by the Christian and Missionary Alliance. The initial contribution was
to be $10,000, which was only $835 less than the entire year's field budget
for 1952. In addition, there was a tuition fee of $200 a year per child.
This cost was a great financial burden for the early missionaries. Ultimately,
the Home Board voted to give $5,000 as a capital investment in Mamou in
return for the privilege of sending CB children to that school.
The final problem for those days was the increasing number of children
who would soon be ready to go away to school. At first, no children were
old enough, but by the mid-50s there would be fourteen who would need
this education.
It was a big decision to send children so far away when all of the CB
missionaries were working in Côte d'Ivoire. Right from the early
years, these missionaries began thinking of the possibility of having
at least an elementary school locally. They also agreed that the decision
needed to be made slowly and carefully; it was important not to take action
at that time that would be regretted in the years to come. So even though
the Mamou option was expensive in many ways, it was seen as the option
of choice for a number of years.
Each family was encouraged to handle the children's education in what
that family felt was the best way, whether that meant using the Calvert
Course or Mamou boarding school. But even as early as August 1951 all
Conference members were in agreement that one day, as soon as possible,
there would be an MK school in Côte d'Ivoire.
First staff house
The
Deteriorating Situation
Naturally a group of missionaries isn't able to convince the Home Board that
it is necessary to establish a new missionary kids' school because it
would be nice, especially after thousands of dollars has been spent on
the existing one. For almost ten years CB and C&MA worked together
to provide education for many MKs, despite the costs and the travel problems.
But then a new situation began to develop.
By the late 1950s, with an anticipated enrollment of 73 students by the
1961-62 school year, Mamou was beginning to face a housing crisis. It
was decided that a workable solution would be a hostel staffed with CB
dorm parents, which were Rolf and Clara Rose Parelius. But an even greater
problem was the deteriorating political situation in Guinea.
The Guinea government was moving towards a Soviet-style communist state.
Missionaries knew that if this continued, it would mean that communications
and travel between Guinea and its neighbors would become increasingly
difficult. This added to the strain of leaving children there for the
long school year.
The premier, Sékou Touré, had also made a statement that
the government intended to close all private schools. Although Mamou had
received verbal assurance that it wouldn't be closed, there was no way
to know if this would indeed be valid.
As the months went on, conditions within Guinea began to deteriorate.
The Pareliuses and other school staff had serious problems getting basic
supplies for the school, and had trouble just getting the food to feed
the children. Parents from both missions realized that the handwriting
was on the wall; that they were kidding themselves if they thought Mamou
could continue indefinitely under the circumstances. Sooner or later,
it would be impracticable to operate a school in Guinea; it was time to
seriously attempt to begin a school in Côte d'Ivoire. But to do
that required Home Board approval. Unless there was a major change in
government (and the same premier went on to rule for another thirty years),
it seemed the difficulties with supplies and border crossings would continue
to worsen. Parents felt that since they were so much closer to the situation
than those in the home offices, they could sense the direction events
were going. It was a matter of pushing and waiting.
People reflecting on those days felt that at first their requests fell
on deaf ears. This is understandable when the financial investment in
Mamou over the years is considered; also, any talk of a deteriorating
political situation was immediately compared to the Congo uprising and
evacuation. No one in West Africa felt the situation to be that desperate;
but it was frustrating to be seen as pushing a panic button or getting
excited about a lesser difficulty, when the missionaries of Côte
d'Ivoire in both missions were convinced that it was time to begin pulling
out of Guinea.
Slowly and somewhat reluctantly the Home Boards began to see the need.
And now the problem was: Where in Côte d'Ivoire do we put the new
school?
Baraka Dorm
The Search
One of the problems that C&MA faced that didn't apply to CB
missionaries was that they had personnel in both countries: Guinea and
Côte d'Ivoire. So while CB parents would only send their children
to the new school, wherever it would be located, C&MA Guinea people
would continue to use Mamou as long as the country remained open, but if
that mission were not permitted to use both schools, due to the heavy
investment that was still continuing into Mamou, parents in Côte
d'Ivoire would have to continue sending their children to Guinea even
though there was another option nearby. Their leaders and parents had to
plead even more strenuously to be able to participate in the dream: an
MK school in Côte d'Ivoire.
But where should it be located? Since CB now had the green light to
sponsor this school (C&MA wished to participate but had to continue
carrying on at Mamou), the natural idea was to locate it in an ea where
CB was working. One consideration was that the school not be too close
to the parents!
On August 1, 1960, three men (Ted Ailanjian, Merrill Skinner, and Ken
Stafford) left on a whirlwind three-day trip to spy out all the sites
thought possible outside of the one chosen in Korhogo. They evaluated
local services, fresh produce available, and scenery. The trip would
have been exhausting by today's standards: They left Niellé early
Monday morning and checked out Badikaha (48 kilometers from
Ferkessédougou), and spent the night in Katiola; Tuesday they
checked out Katiola and drove to Bouaké; Wednesday they rechecked
Katiola and went by Tafiré and Ferké. In all, they
evaluated more than ten sites, including some in the towns of
Ngolodougou, Niakaramandougou, Niagbo, Logbounlo, and Ndana. Their
report concludes: "The committee was authorized to apply for land for
our school if we found a site as good or better than the Korhogo site
and away from missionary personnel. We made an honest effort to find
such a site, but failed." But buried towards the end of the report are a
few interesting sentences about a site in Bouaké: "The other
possible site is about seven kilometers east of town on the Mbayakro
[sic] road. This is also a hillside with a marigot [stream] nearby.
There are few trees, but there is a nice open view and land flat enough
for building...."
The report ends with the acknowledgment that the land in Korhogo was
being applied for through the proper channels and asked the missionaries
to keep praying for the Lord's guidance in the choice of the school's
location.
Apparently God (or the Home Board) soon indicated another direction,
for the same three men went to Odienné in October, 1960 to find a
suitable site there for the construction of the new school. An
interesting minute from that year's field conference states: "Motion
prevailed that M[errill] Skinner and R[ay] Johnson be authorized to
cancel the application for land for a school site near Korhogo, and that
the chief of Korhogo and other officials involved be informed that our
Home Board has instructed us to build at Odienné." Another motion
accepts Odienné as the new site and instructs the Legal
Representative to make application for the land marked out by the school
committee.
The report of the trip to Odienné by the three-man committee on
October 7 and 8 details what was meant by "marked out by the school
committee." They began by talking to the French commander to explain in
detail what the mission wished to do and why they had chosen
Odienné. He cordially answered questions about the services and
produce available locally, as well as giving them a tour of the
available land in and around the town. The French surveyor suggested
that the best land was along the Sudan (Mali) road, but that they would
need to contact the African chief to see what was available. He, of
course, was out of town — in Guinea.
That afternoon the three men found a site that they liked two
kilometers out of town and measured off 200 meters along the road and
300 meters back into the bush. They counted more than two dozen mango
trees on the property as well as dozens of huge native trees, some more
than three feet in diameter and up to 100 feet tall. Would this piece of
land be available?
Later that afternoon the committee found that the chief had returned
and, after introductions, they explained the reason for their visit. He
sent his brother with them to see the land they had in mind and upon his
report of where the land was located, the chief assured them that the
land was available and they could have all they wanted. The only
disappointment seemed to be to the chief and his men when they found out
that the new school would be a private one and that the village children
couldn't attend to learn English. That was smoothed over by explaining
that perhaps some classes could be worked out through the local French
school.
The missionaries went to bed that night rejoicing in God's guidance and
for the good receptions met with everywhere. The next morning they hired
two men to help cut through the thick bush to put in the temporary
markers. While they were working, the chief's brother and men from the
village arrived to again assure the missionaries that they were welcome
and could have all the land they needed. Later in the day the French
commander came with the local French contractor. In his conversation, he
mentioned that the chief had been by to see him that morning; his
question had been, "Is this only talk or do they mean business?" The
missionaries assured the commander that they were serious and as he
looked at the back-breaking trail they had already cut in the bush, he
knew they were not wasting any time. "When can you start building?" he
asked them. The target date to begin was January 1961.
The actual building didn't begin that soon, but plans continued to be
approved for the various buildings and equipment. In September 1960 a
teacher had been appointed for the school — Miss Jan Daugherty. On
January 3, 1961 a motion requested that the land be surveyed as soon as
possible.
But on February 17, 1961 a telegram was sent to Odienné
requesting that the surveyor delay surveying the concession until
further notice....
Split down
the Middle
The night of February 16 Martin Eadelman and Rolf Parelius
hand-delivered to Jim Halbert, the CB field chairman, a letter from
Archie Powell, the C&MA field director with the following
information: The political situation in Guinea had deteriorated rapidly
in 1960 and by February 1961 the borders were closed and it would no
longer be possible for missionaries from Côte d'Ivoire to send
their children across the border. C&MA requested that they be
allowed to cooperate in the planning of the new school from the
formative stages and stated that they protested the location of any
school in which they might participate being at Odienné. The
letter closes with the following statements: "In view of the above we
hereby extend to the Baptist Mission a formal invitation to build the
above-mentioned school in Bouaké or its environs. This invitation
is the unanimous expression of our Executive Committee and other parents
whose children would be affected."
As field leadership tried and tried to contact the home office via
radio and cable, and finally got through several times to a ham operator
near Wheaton, the thoughts on the field towards the end of February were
that the easier course would be to continue on at Odienné, "but
it would seem only right to at least consider the Bouaké
invitation.... Let us pray during these next few days that the Lord will
give us unanimity and unity as we seek His will."
What difference did it make which site was chosen? Comity was a big
issue; the missions had agreed on territories in which they would work,
and purely and simply, Odienné was in CB territory and
Bouaké was in C&MA. Naturally, CB would look first and most
seriously in its own territory. C&MA was not making Bouaké an
ultimatum for its cooperation, as was misunderstood by some, but stating
that the school was welcome to locate there, which was their preference.
C&MA parents would be so relieved to have their children out of the
Guinea situation that they were willing to consider any reasonable
location and rules about visitation. Possibly Odienné was
considered just too far away and too close to the Guinea border for
serious thought.
But Baptists have never been known to change direction easily. So a
special conference was called for March 16, 1961 in Korhogo to make a
final decision. Since the issue had been reopened, several of the old
choices were reviewed. Tafiré, Korhogo, Odienné, and
Bouaké were all reconsidered; straw votes were taken and the
meeting, which hadn't started until 3:10 p.m. dragged on and on.
Finally, the choice was clearly between Odienné and
Bouaké. Jim Halbert recalls: "What I remember about that
conference mainly is that as we were seeking the mind of the Lord and
His will, we were really divided and I felt that we just couldn't make a
decision of that magnitude if we were split down the middle. I really
didn't know what the answer was except just to pray and to ask the Lord
to somehow give us more of a unanimity of spirit."
Twenty-five people were present and several found that they had to
leave early. As they left, they made it clear that their choice was for
Odienné, and, of course, once they walked out the door, those
votes could not be changed.
There's only a double spacing in the minutes between the motion
offering four locations and the final vote choosing one, but that space
represents a prayer time that led to the decisive vote.
"Help us, O Lord our God: for we rest on Thee..." God granted the
needed wisdom and unity: "Motion prevailed that the school be relocated
at Bouaké. Vote: 16 - yes; 5 - no [including those who had
already left]; 2 abstentions."
The Final
Choice
Several locations in Bouaké had already been viewed by the
original scouting team in August, 1960 and now the Executive Committee
began looking for the final location in earnest. C&MA personnel had
given available sites some thought since their invitation had been
issued, and helpfully showed the committee around.
Two of the locations stick in Jim Halbert's mind: one because it was on
the other side of a marigot where at that time no road went directly to
the land. It was necessary for the Executive Committee to wade through
the muddy marigot in order to walk around the land and inspect it
closely.
It was during the dry season and the second spot was brown and bare
with no trees and not promising-looking at all. Some were discouraged by
this; others could remember planting trees and grass in other places and
seeing eventual beautiful results. The distance from town (eight
kilometers from Bouaké) wasn't seen as a problem since Torogo
station was that far from Korhogo.
The Executive Committee decided that this second spot would become the
first choice to work on; the others would then be considered if it fell
through. The committee chose Jim Halbert to do all the week-to-week
negotiations and paperwork since it didn't seem practical for all five
to travel to Bouaké.
Negotiations and paperwork! The land under consideration fell under
three jurisdictions: the African chief who actually owned the land, the
mayor of the town of Bouaké, and the préfet (a French government
official) of the whole Bouaké central province of Côte
d'Ivoire.
If Jim had envisioned the number of trips down to Boauké he
would be making or the number of different obstacles that would turn up
over the next few months, he probably would have been overwhelmed from
the beginning.
For a Chaise-Longue
and a Radio . . .
Jim Halbert usually came down to Bouaké on Mondays after doing
weekend ministry in Korhogo, and always hoped he could finish up in a
day or two and get some work done in Korhogo before the next trip. Over
the next three months, Jim came down two or three times a month to
attend to some detail in obtaining the land for the new school.
Jim was thankful for the help that the C&MA personnel were able to
give him — especially Joe Ost, who had dealt with legal problems before
— since he didn't know his way around the town. The first order of
business was to visit the chief who owned the land, introduce himself
and the mission, and hint at what was wanted without making the chief
feel rushed. Since the mayor was anxious to beautify Bouaké and
was confident that what Americans would build would do that, and since
the préfet was a
colonial administrator, who also seem encouraging, it was the chief that
was the key man who needed to be persuaded.
Land wasn't purchased in those days; it was obtained through an
agreement that involved an exchange of gifts. And the preferr main gift
to give to a chief for a piece of land was a case of whiskey or rum. So
one of the first problems was finding out from the chief's assistants
what gifts he would appreciate, while assuring him that the Baptist
missionaries never gave gifts of whiskey to anybody!
Jim felt the weight of this responsibility as the dialoguing about the
gifts went on and on. He was helped in this by the C&MA staff who
had dealt with the Baoulé [tribe centered in Bouaké]
people for a number of years. After about the third or fourth
negotiation for gifts, the missionaries up north were wondering how far
this would go and how long it would take. But the only way to handle
this old guy was with kid gloves; he had a reputation for being very,
very difficult — in fact, the préfetsaid
he was the most difficult chief in the whole Baoulé kingdom!
Meeting by meeting Jim tried to be as diplomatic and as cautious and as
careful as he could without seeming to be pushy or over-anxious. He also
needed to hold the line when the chief was obviously trying to get more
than he knew was reasonable. As Jim remembers it: "[The chief would]
say, ‘Well, I'll think about it and you come back.' and then you knew it
was time to give him a gift, and then you'd give that, and, ‘Well, OK,
we'll think it over and we'll let you know.' And you'd come back, then
you'd come back, and it was always that ‘Come back, come back,' and you
couldn't push him because that's the way they operate."
Quite apart from the exchange of gifts and negotiations, there were
other obstacles that seemed insurmountable. As Jim remembers thinking:
"It became sort of like standing back and just watching the Lord work
each time ... it was almost a fun thing — just to stand back and see how
the Lord was going to overcome the next obstacle before you got to
another one." And all this time the days were going by; with the Guinea
borders closed, it was imperative to start the new school soon.
Oh, the final gifts to the chief for the original piece of land were: a
chaise longue, because he was getting old, a good radio, and a token
amount of cash!
"There's
just one problem..."
One of the early problems with the chief concerned the amount of land
that the missionaries felt they needed in order to build an adequate
boarding complex. The original request, therefore, was for nine hectares
(a hectare is 2.471 acres), a lot 300 meters along the road by 300
meters deep. But the chief replied that that was far too much land and
offered much less. Negotiations continued from both ends until both
sides agreed on six hectares, a lot 200 meters by 300 meters. He refused
to give any more land at that time, but said to come back and ask for
more when more was needed.
Since the six hectares would only cover the beginning stages of the
school and not leave room for expansion, Jim checked with the mayor. He
was assured that the most important part of the negotiations was getting
the first amount of land; after that it came under his jurisdiction as
well as the chief's. The school was able to get more land once or twice
through this procedure.
Finally, the amount of land was agreed upon, the gifts were agreed
upon, and as Jim went to the village to meet with the chief, he was sure
that the whole procedure was almost finished. What more could be left to
do?
But that day the chief remarked, for the first time in all those weeks,
"There's just one problem ... I had promised this land to an
ambassador..."
The chief had never mentioned this problem before! He had promised the
land to an Ivorian ambassador who had said he wanted it. Jim was told
that he would need to find and talk to this ambassador and get him to
say officially that the mission could have it instead.
Where was this ambassador, where was his office? "He's a roving
ambassador," the chief replied. "He goes all over the world ... he's
gone most of the time. He might be in Japan or New York or who knows
where." All Jim could say to himself was, "This is going to be real fun
to see how the Lord works this one out!"
For an
Ambassador
As Jim left Bouaké to return to his work upcountry, he mentioned
to his C&MA friend Joe Ost that he would be going all the way to
Abidjan on Monday to see if he could find the ambassador's office and
try to get hold of him. Jim knew he had to contact the office in person
and attempt to make an appointment.
Meanwhile, as the weeks continued to pass, the missionaries were
nervous because it was getting very close to the time limit after which
it would be impossible to finish enough buildings to be able to open the
school on time. Some were wondering if CBs had made the right decision
to go to Bouaké; others were wondering if the old chief would
just continue to give them the run-around and then finally say no after
all. What could Jim say? "I didn't think that the Lord had brought us
this far to let us down and all we could do was push ahead. But, I just
decided that it was in the Lord's hand, so we'd keep going."
Monday morning Jim boarded the train to go all the way south to
Abidjan, and when it pulled into Bouaké where he normally got
off, he wasn't even paying attention when Joe Ost came to the window and
yelled, "You're getting off here!" What could this be about ... he
needed to get to Abidjan to try to find that ambassador's office and see
what could be done.
Jim got off the train and Joe began telling him that the ambassador was
in town for the long holiday weekend — and was staying with his friend,
the mayor! They needed to go to the mayor's office and see if they could
possibly impose on the mayor's cordiality and visit him and his house
guest on this holiday. They knew they were being quite audacious, but
the mayor had been following the mission's progress with the land and
was quite interested in helping within the limits of his jurisdiction.
It must be mentioned here that this mayor, M. Djibo, was always cordial
and helpful and encouraging in the whole affair of beginning an MK
school in Bouaké. He took quite a bit of pride in his town and in
the school that was built and enjoyed showing people what had been done
in his bailiwick. Every time that Jim had to go to his office, which was
many, many times, he was always very helpful. The missions owe a debt to
him, maybe in ways that they will never know.
The mayor was true to form on this day and informed Jim and Joe to come
to his house at 8:00 p.m. The missionaries had a little prayer meeting
and dressed carefully. Jim had thrown a suit into his case that morning,
thinking that should the ambassador be in his Abidjan office, he'd want
to meet him in a suit. Jim knew he was a well-educated, well-traveled
Ivorian.
To their surprise, at 8:00 p.m. the mayor greeted them at his home in
his lounging pajamas — after all, it was a holiday evening. The
ambassador was still partially dressed from the day; but the
missionaries were quite dressed up, in their "bib and tucker," as Jim
put it. As they talked to the ambassador, and realized that he had
visited the United States in his tours, Jim had an idea: If this man has
lived in the United States, he knows how the Americans think and talk
and he knows we come to the point. Perhaps it would be less of a
surprise to just handle it the American way. So Jim told him the story,
what the mission had been trying to do in order to have a school for
their MKs, and that no one had known that the chief had promised him the
land. Jim made it clear that he didn't want to ask for the impossible,
but that he, on behalf of the mission, had gone through weeks of
negotiations; could anything be done? He was as open and frank as he
thought he could be without being abrupt.
The ambassador agreed, "If you really need the land for something like
that, I'll let you have it; I don't really need it." But before the
missionaries could get too excited, they realized that the chief would
want some proof that they had actually talked with the ambassador!
So Jim plunged in again, asking if it would be possible for the
ambassador to write out a record of what he had just said and sign it.
He agreed, but Jim had visions of him returning to Abidjan and dictating
it to a secretary, and his being gone on a trip while the letter lay on
a desk, and time passing and passing. He gulped and asked, "Would there
be any way you could do that while you're here so we'd have it now?"
"I'll give it to you tomorrow morning!" he promised.
"That'll be the day," Jim thought as he and Joe left for home.
That would be the day! The signed paper was ready for them the next
morning.
Before he ever returned up north, Jim raced out to see the chief and
showed him the piece of paper from the ambassador. He doesn't honestly
know if the chief thought they would never find the ambassador and that
would stop the proceedings, or if he was playing with them, or what. But
he can't remember that the chief had any more obstacles for them after
that.
"I Hope You
Realize What Happened Today!"
The day came when Jim and the préfet,
the French colonial administrator, had to go together to the village to
get the chief's thumbprint, which was his signature, on the document
that would give the land to the mission. As they prepared to leave, the préfet mentioned that he
hoped Jim wasn't too optimistic: "I don't want you to get your hopes up
too high because I don't believe for a minute that he's going to sign
that paper today." Jim wondered aloud what more the chief could provide
in the way of obstacles. The préfet
informed him that the chief was known as the most ornery rascal they
ever had had to deal with, and he had never yet signed on the first
trip. Jim could only reply that this was in the Lord's hands and He was
greater than any man.
The préfet and his
entourage and Jim got into the car, drove to the village, and went
through all the greetings with the chief, then stated their business —
and, lo and behold, the chief put his thumbprint on the document, and
the préfet, his
entourage, and Jim got into the car and headed back to town. All the way
back the Frenchman kept shaking his head and saying, "I can't believe
it! I hope you realize what happened today!"
Yes, Jim realized what had happened: To know that the Lord was at work
made all the trips, all the waiting, and everything else, worth it.
A Provision
to Occupy the Land
Once more Jim returned to his work up north knowing that another trip
was needed for one more paper, this time a permit to occupy the land.
This would allow a builder to begin work on the campus.
But there were two more problems to be solved before building could
begin: a water tower needed to be built for a good supply of water while
the building was going on as well as for the students and staff, and a
house needed to be found for the builder, so he would have an adequate
place in which to live for the six months or so before a residence would
be ready on the land. But Bouaké wasn't the town it is now; the
normal houses were little more than huts. And none of the missionaries
had a spare house available for that length of time.
It fell once again to Jim to solve this problem and he scoured
Bouaké looking for an adequate house. Finally, he came upon an
African who was building a small house near the bakery that he hoped to
be able to rent to Europeans. In those days a careful person could build
a house that would pay for itself in about five years' rent; after that
the rent would be income. But the African owner had run into a snag.
He had gotten the house to the place where everything was finished but
the plumbing and electricity, and had run out of money. He had already
promised the house to a Frenchman, an officer who was stationed on the
edge of town, but the man couldn't move in until the house was finished.
And the owner couldn't finish the house because he was out of money. He
was also having second thoughts about renting it to the Frenchman
because it would take at least six months after the officer moved in
before the governmental red tape was settled and the rent would begin to
be paid. So he was becoming more and more anxious to rent it to a
private group.
About that time Jim came along and realized that this was the first
place he had seen that could be workable accommodations for the
missionary builder. He asked the owner how much money he would need to
finish the house, bargained with him on the rent, and offered to pay it
in advance so that he could finish the house.
The African then had to find the French officer and explain the new
situation to him — he was angry about it, but released the owner from
the agreement. Jim paid five months' rent and the C&MA people helped
him to push the owner to finish, stopping by the house periodically to
see how the work was going, so Jim didn't have to make extra trips to
Bouaké. The location turned out to be ideal as all supplies had
to be purchased in town, and the commute wasn't that far.
Norman Camp, a missionary unable to return to the Congo, was willing to
come as builder and he worked so fast that he was finished with this
rented house before the five months were up. As Jim looked back over his
search for housing and realized again that this house was the only place
he had found that would meet the need, he marveled at yet another
provision where the timing was so obvious as to not be accidental.
"What Is All
This?"
Two dorms and some classrooms and the teachers' residence had all been
built and school had actually been in session for a few months when one
day an official was passing by the road in front of the school. As he
drove by and noticed all of the buildings, he said to the aides in the
car with him, "What is all this?" No one seemed to know.
The official returned to his office and began to check through his
records. There was no record to be found for any Baptist school on that
section of the M'Bahiakro Road. There had to be another special permit —
he knew that for a fact as it had to come from his office!
What a shock to Jim Halbert and the other missionaries when they
received his telegram telling them to stop operation of the school! It
meant another quick trip to Bouaké to see the mayor, who was able
to help yet again. It was strictly a misunderstanding; no one had known
this permit was necessary.
But it was another hurdle that took a few weeks to settle, another time
of trusting God to preserve the school He was building.
"Stand Still
and See..."
Over and over as Jim Halbert worked through the situations surrounding
the founding of a new MK school in Côte d'Ivoire, he was reminded
of the Lord's words to Jehoshaphat in 2 Chronicles 20:17, where He told
the king that the battle was not his, but God's and he was not to be
afraid or discouraged. Rather he was to stand still and see the
deliverance the Lord would give.
A military man of the world would laugh at these words because they are
so contrary to how the world expects to accomplish its goals. But so
many times Jim found himself doing all he could to take care of what
needed to be done, sometimes having no idea what the answer was, and
then being faced with obstacle after obstacle. And God's word to him
would be: Stand still and see how I'm going to work this out.
Jim reminisces that this whole experience was an exercise in faith that
was one of the best lessons he learned during his time in Côte
d'Ivoire, a lesson he has been thankful for ever since.
International Christian Academy
The new school was named Ivory Coast Academy until 1990 — when
it was renamed International Christian Academy. It is known internationally
as ICA by its former staff and students, and locally as École Baptiste
or the Baptist School.
ICA opened in 1962 as an elementary school with 31 students and two teachers.
All of the students (grades 1-8) lived in Bethany dorm and each teacher
taught four grades in two classrooms.
In 1964 the second dorm, Bethel, was built by C&MA and enrollment
was up to 55. Now three teachers were needed. In 1965 two classrooms and
two staff residences were added. Gradually more dorms and grades were
added until in 1973 the first senior class graduated from this school.
Currently there are eight dorms, twelve family houses and two four-unit
buildings on campus, as well as a library building, administrative offices,
a dispensary, a kitchen-dining hall, a chapel, thirteen classrooms and
a full computer lab. A new gymnatorium-community center is slated to be
finished in 1997. Playing fields and courts dot the campus, which is no
longer bare and brown, but lushly green with lawns, flowers, trees, and
hedges.
The 1996-97 school year has an enrollment of 242 students in grades one
through twelve, with the Class of ‘97 being its largest senior class
(31). An average of 90% of ICA graduates go on to college; over 500 students
have graduated. The school is accredited by the Association of Christian
Schools International (ACSI) and the Middle States Association of Colleges
and Schools (MSA).
Miss Jan Daugherty, who can look back over these years with pride and
amusement, notes that this year's student body includes 33 students whose
parents attended here, as well as nine alumni on staff! ICA alumni serve
all over the world; over 100 are in Africa alone.
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