When I received the news that I had been selected as a foreign missionary I had been inviting people for the festival at Shinjuku. Tears welled up in my eyes. I prepared my heart to meet Father. Each person was to stand in front of Father after he was assigned to a particular mission country. Until that instant, I had never thought of going to Africa. When I heard my name, I stood up and without hesitation took my place in front of Father. He spoke to me, "You have a good face." This experience became one of the motivating forces during my mission in Uganda. Father was not talking about my physical face but my internal attitude in response to heaven's call.
Before I left Japan, in a revelation I saw Father wearing a golden crown and a white robe; three people stood before him. Among the three people were one white, one black and one yellow (me). The black person came to me and pleaded, "Please save me. Save me."
Soon after this revelation, my central figure called to tell me the real situation in Uganda. He especially stressed how much the Christians had been persecuted in my nation. He informed me that a missionary of Brother Andrew's group [Open Doors USA - Serving Persecuted Christians Worldwide] had been martyred there. Again, tears flowed from my eyes. Unceasingly I could spiritually sense the heavy historical burden and indemnity of the black Africans.
The evening of May 25, 1975, I arrived in Nairobi, the capital of Kenya, where I stayed overnight. Early the next day I flew to Entebbe. To my surprise, Entebbe airport was beautiful. Located at the shore of Lake Victoria, the largest lake in Africa, it also claims title as the source of the Nile River. Even now, I cannot forget the impression I had when we landed. This forgotten continent and country of Uganda was actually a land of perpetual spring. Year round it was bordered in lush green and countless flowers of brilliant colors. The colonists of Britain referred to this nation as the "Pearl of Africa," or "Switzerland of Africa." I looked around, surveying even the airport. This was my nation. My life, my understanding of God would change in this place. I couldn't know how at that time, for that day I only entered this beautiful garden's gate.
From Entebbe I headed straight for Kampala, the capital. It was the rainy season, and true to its character, a drizzling rain accompanied me during the long ride into the city. I couldn't help feeling the heart of Jacob after he left Canaan for Haran. In many ways, Uganda was to become my Haran.
In the city, the rain stopped. After registering in a hotel, I walked along the streets of Kampala. I could see no white people, no yellow people. There were only black Africans. I felt like I did not belong. I went to an African restaurant. No sushi. No tempura. I had to eat African style. I had my first taste of matoke, a steamed green banana.
Little by little, the reality of Africa was revealed to me. I was approached by many types of people. I saw the lame and the lepers. People stricken with elephantiasis also came to me, begging with pleading eyes.
I walked around various places until evening. Through God's guidance, I met two young people who took me to Makerere University, where I wanted to register as a student. Truthfully, I was worried whether or not I could keep up with the classes and manage in such totally unfamiliar circumstances in a university of all black students. I didn't feel I had a good enough grasp of English; but immediately I was filled with the knowledge that I could give joy to Father by going forward in faith.
The next day I was introduced to a graduate of Makerere University who took me to the university and helped me with admission. I submitted the papers and was told I had to wait a minimum of several days for the answer.
Four days after I entered the country, he also found an apartment for me, which I shared with two others. One of them, a graduate of an American university, introduced me to a woman lecturer in sociology. Since I wanted to enter the university as a student of sociology, she helped me to enroll successfully.
During the first week, my new friends were concerned about me and took good care of me. However, they soon fell in love with each other and forgot about me.
This housemate occupied the bedroom next to mine. He had an extreme problem with lust, and every day I could hear him and any one of his lady friends enjoying each other's company. He also suffered from a stomach ulcer, so I suggested that he practice morning exercises with me. He would come in pajamas and dutifully and willingly do pushups and sit-ups. After the exercise, he would lie on the bed and for about a half hour I would give him Shiatsu massage. It was the first time in my life I ever touched black skin. At first it took some getting used to, but I slowly became accustomed.
Gradually I began to understand how much Father loved and forgave such sinful people. I noticed that when his physical condition improved he began to have more energy which he reinvested in committing sin more and more often with more and more women.
Meanwhile, I received notice that my admission to the 1975 class at Makerere University was denied. My visa stability was worsening and I felt concerned.
Yet during that time, Father appeared in my dream. Standing on a rock on the top of a huge craggy mountain, he told me sharply "You must erect a large splendid white temple here."
Once when Jacob lay his head on a pillow of stone, the Lord comforted and encouraged him. However, in my case, instead of comforting me, Father ordered me to make the impossible possible. I could only think of the practical aspects. How could I erect a temple on the top of such a tall mountain which did not even have footholds? I felt God needed me to understand not a sympathetic love from Father, but rather a stern love.
After I was able to extend my visa, my housemate persecuted me more and more severely. He accused me of being a spy and once he literally almost drove me out of his apartment. He violently slandered and accused me and threatened to report me to the police. What could I do? I prayed desperately. In a sense, I felt I was facing my limitation, but Father appeared in a vision and angels sang hymns to encourage me. I felt cared for by the angels.
After my desperate prayer, God guided my housemate, and he did not report me.
I had entered Uganda as a non-Christian and could therefore not pray loudly or even sing hymns. I used to have pledge service but felt so tense. In order to simply wash my face, I had to go through four doors. I had to be extremely quiet and could not make a sound when I unlocked them. I felt like a spy. I would place a desk lamp on the floor and cover it with a bath towel so that the light would not stream through the cracks of the door. My pledge services were secret.
Yet, God also allowed me to enjoy myself at different intervals. For example, it does not snow in Uganda, but something comparable is the season of the locusts. Countless locusts swarm around the street lights; they actually resemble snow. People vie in gathering them. My house mate stirred up my excitement when he started to catch them. I joined him. After stockpiling a good supply, he put them in hot water, which softened them up. Then he tore off their legs and wings and roasted them in a frying pan. Our snack was ready.
At first I was at a loss, wondering how or even if man could eat them. Yet, in order to become "African," I ate them. I was amazed; they were quite good. "Delicious!" I exclaimed. He was so pleased that I liked them that he asked his students to help gather many of them for his Japanese friend.
They obeyed him and gathered more than an ample supply. It took me several days to boil them and get them ready for roasting. I think I was a bit hasty in my cry of "delicious," because locusts piled on a plate were served at every meal for a week. After the first time or two, it was all I could do to be able to swallow them.
What comforted me at that time was the friendship I had with two high school students I met the day before my 26th birthday. On my birthday, the three of us went to see the tomb of Mutesa I, the King of the Buganda Kingdom. One student had dreamed that many black people, including King Mutesa, gathered together in the tomb to welcome me. He was a devoted Muslim and lived in the middle of the slum district with his grandmother. I would secretly sneak away from my housemate and the maid to visit this student. I saw so much unhappiness in the slums. Whenever I walked along the streets there, nearly a dozen naked children would follow me in amazement. Whites never visited there. I became a popular figure.
I had never heard a Principle lecture given in English. I couldn't speak the language well myself, yet one day Mr. Sudo appeared in my dream and gave me a lecture in English about the dispensation centered on Jesus' family. He showed me his English study guide of the Principle. Encouraged by it, I was determined to learn how to give lectures in English to the two students.
As a result of such determination, in September of that year, one spiritual child was born. He came through so many tears cried by both of us. His rebirth took place in a humble hut of mud in the midst of the slums. To do this, I had to take many risks. My housemate and the maid often locked me in the apartment. Therefore, in order to go out for witnessing, I had to climb down the drain pipe from the fourth floor where I lived to the third floor, where I would ask my neighbor to let me out of the building.
I heard that one of the students was the ringleader of a gang in his high school. One day I could not get up because I felt too sick, but he came to see me and told me that he was about to be expelled from school. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he begged me to act as intercessor and talk to the director of the school. He pledged to become a good Christian and repented of his past. What else could I do? Even though I was sick, I walked one hour to go to his school.
The director, a black man and a missionary, blamed the student for causing trouble in school and wanted to insist on his expulsion. Yet I appealed to him and told him I would take responsibility for him and educate him to be a good Christian. He began to soften his attitude and agreed to let him stay in school. In fact, he took him to class. In front of 70 or 80 students, the director gave the student 20 lashes. From outside the room, I heard his screams and the other students' laughs. The director forgave him, but made him "pay" for it by that punishment. Still, the student became a man of character. He was true to his word and did become a Christian. He studied the Principle eagerly and at last accepted True Parents.
Since the secret police were everywhere, I was wondering if the American and German missionaries might have been deported. However, several months after I entered the country, God guided me to meet the German brother. Meeting him was a miracle in itself. Both the American and German missionaries had been jailed for three days. As well, the three of us as foreigners were under great suspicion by the secret police.
The situation of Uganda allowed us no freedom. No freedom to witness. No freedom to meet each other. Yet, God did not stop. He commandeered the spiritual rebirths of five Ugandans. Because of this, the three missionaries decided one night in October 1975 to hold a meeting. Each missionary and each native member knew the danger we all faced. We decided that we would make a holy ground and that would be the common base for our meeting. Since my father had sent me chocolate, it was this we shared together as a family for the first time.
My house mate's girlfriend abandoned him, and he became spiritually dead. His depression lasted for days. This taught me the lonely world of the archangel. However, after this happened, he began to pay attention to me once more. Since he recognized that I had a positive attitude, he no longer suspected me of being a spy. He wrote me a letter of recommendation for admission to Makerere University. Because of that letter, the next year I was accepted. This taught me that until we subjugate Satan, God cannot work.
The American missionary obtained a job as a high school teacher and made many strong conditions, such as fasting 400 hours. The German missionary was also able to secure a job.
After the security of our visas was taken care of, the three of us started living together in April of 1976. We rented a second-floor apartment next to the African market. A few days later, we received our itinerary worker. Living under my housemate for ten months was indeed Jacob's tribulation in Haran. Yet, Heavenly Father had invested so much in that situation; it taught me forgiveness, perseverance and self-control.
To me, living in the new center with my missionary brothers was like heaven. However, the conflicts and differences of culture, manners and customs among the three of us came to the surface from that moment. Since my classes at the university had not yet started, I was to take care of the house. My life began to revolve around preparing food and shopping. When I cooked a la Japanese, the other brothers did not seem to be able to appreciate it so much; therefore, it became a challenge to me to learn to cook so that they would be able to eat the food.
We did morning exercises together and rotated taking responsibility for pledge service. Later, we held morning services. We also decided that we would have two Sunday services: one for core members after pledge and one for the public later in the morning.
Each evening we held something akin to a revival meeting. In addition, we studied VOC and Unification Thought. We wanted to direct everything towards making even a small condition for the victory of the Yankee Stadium and Washington Monument rallies.
However, before the Yankee Stadium rally, I overworked myself and developed a severe fever. My German brother was anxious and prayed for me in tears. But even though I was terribly sick, I attended school each day. I felt that during this period I was on the boundary between life and death. I came to understand a little of the heart that Jesus had as he walked up the hill of Golgotha, shouldering the cross, as well as Father's heart in the concentration camp in North Korea.
At the same time these feelings and deep revelations were coming to me, so did a few trials. One day a thief broke into our center and stole all our valuables. My beloved spiritual son began to work for the secret police and threatened us. I loved him so much; I had given him all I could. I remember when he had said, "I can die for you. I would like to live with you at least 40 years." But I found that I had loved him with too humanistic a love and ignored the Principle. Because of this, I feel Satan could take him away. During this time, all I could think of was the kind of heart Jesus felt when he was betrayed by Judas Iscariot.
Father had told us that we should stay in our mission country, no matter what, until the Washington Monument rally was over. We took this seriously. We experienced betrayals from our core members three times, yet Heavenly Father always protected us. I feel that the more we suffered, the more blessing Heavenly Father gave us. We often had dreams of Father. Mine was a recurring dream in which I was invited to True Parents' house and they treated me like a member of their family.
The holy ground we had established went through its own trials. We had to establish our holy ground three different times because it was destroyed twice -- by bulldozers! Our holy ground is now located on a hill in Kampala which has a lovely view of the city. At the time we established this one, the secret police were constantly watching that area. Again, it was done at the risk of our lives.
When I was a student at Makerere University, I rarely attended classes. I felt it was more important to devote myself to door-to-door witnessing in the dormitory. Yet during the time I was doing that, the armed forces of Uganda rushed onto campus and severely punished students. I had an appointment to meet a student at 3:00 p.m. that day: yet I had the strongest feeling that I should not leave the center. I followed it and did not go to school. The next day I saw only a few students on campus. I was bewildered and asked several people what had happened. They were afraid to speak. Yet through the few things they said as well as their silence, I began to piece together what must have happened the day before. I learned that students were brought to the hospitals in serious condition. Many others had head wounds or had to have casts put on their arms or legs. I heard that the forces attacked the campus at exactly 3:00 p.m. -- the same hour I was to have been in the dormitory. I realized how much I had been protected.
Since the beginning of July 1976, when the world-famous Entebbe airport incident happened, all foreigners in the country were under strict surveillance. Our spiritual children were fearful and stopped coming to see us. They knew that if they came, it might cost them their lives.
At that time, we had strong spiritual feelings that we must dispose of all materials related to the church. Therefore, we somehow prepared, in case they decided they wanted to search our apartment. Each of us prayed desperately every day.
The eerie sound of tanks resounded in our ears all night long. People no longer walked along the streets. The Japanese ambassador ordered me (us) to leave Uganda and temporarily stay in Nairobi. We heard his voice, but instead listened to the order of heaven: we stayed in Uganda.
After the Yankee Stadium rally, I had a dream. Although I couldn't realize at the time that it was the Manhattan Center, I saw many brothers and sisters gathered in a large place, enjoying themselves. I was seated just behind the True Parents and their children. Everyone was in high spirits, except Father. He looked pale. He stood up and prayed in solitude. I could spiritually understand what Father's position is. He is alone. No one can really share his burden. Because of this dream, I felt that we must persevere to participate in the Washington Monument rally. The American brother continued to pray between 12:00 and 3:00 a.m. as a condition. Therefore, until the dispensation of the Washington Monument rally was over, we had no time to struggle with unity or engage in conflict with each other. We only pushed ourselves to do God's will.
Yet after the rallies were finished, I felt spiritually heavy and experienced so many difficulties. I had a real test of faith. It started when I received a letter from my spouse. She related to me a dream that she had had repeatedly. In the dream I was always charging ahead, but ignoring the situation of other brothers and sisters. They could not follow me, and I was always thinking of something in my mind and trying to go forward. I feel that had I been able to sense how to change myself based on her dream, things would have gone smoothly in my life of faith. But I somehow could not accept it and at that time I began to struggle internally.
After Washington Monument, I was invited to the home of a person I had met on campus. While I was away, the American and German brothers had a fight. When I returned to Kampala, one native member told me that he simply could not get along with white people. I could no longer feel that we had smooth unity. However, even though I was the central figure at that time, I did not heartistically understand the real problem the other brothers had. I was a student, and after class I would stay on campus and witness until late at night. Now I look back and find how little compassion I had.
One night, on the way back from witnessing on campus, I was attacked by two robbers. Two big men stood in the darkness. I could not discern their forms and stopped to look at them. They were holding a big sickle in their hand. When they shouted, I ran as fast as I could, and they threw the sickle right at me. Fortunately, they didn't throw it with as much power as they would have hoped. It landed near my feet and I escaped.
Through witnessing to Christians on campus, I got accustomed to the English terminology of the Principle and the Bible. It was good training for me. We attended weekly luncheon meetings with leaders of Catholic and Protestant churches in Uganda. Each of us gave a speech based on the Divine Principle. Through a contact in this meeting, we came to be able to attend a Bible study meeting held at the home of the chairman of the meeting.
When the archbishop of the Uganda Church was killed, I found myself in an unbelievable situation. Around that time, there was an assassination attempt, and soldiers invaded homes and brutally killed many innocent people. One Christian student to whom I had witnessed met tragedy. He heard the first part of the Divine Principle and understood well. His brother was among those killed, and he could not stop crying. He felt at a loss for what to do.
I felt the same way: he simply could not be comforted by anything I did or said.
Because of the danger, university students were not allowed to stay in the dormitories. They were asked to return to their home villages. Yet soldiers lay in the bushes and ambushed the young students going home. Even though he heard about this, my Christian friend was determined to return to his village. He knew God and Jesus and felt that his belief in them was enough. I felt that since he did not have enough preparation and foundation, I could not testify to Father. All I could do was pray in tears for him. He did not survive the journey.
When I heard the news of his death, I cried hard, thinking about the deeply distressed heart of God. Whenever I saw the people suffering, indignation and righteousness rose in my heart. I was driven to the idea of martyrdom: I felt I had to do something for Uganda, no matter what happened to me.
One night a native member had a dream that Jesus came to sleep with him. I realized how much Jesus loved Uganda, and I could not stop crying. Other members also had dreams o Jesus. In one dream, he promised that many Christians would accept the Principle and come to know the True Parents, when the time was right.
Many people were coming to our center, which was centrally located downtown. In fact it became dangerous. We tried to love each of them and welcomed them with the best hospitality we could. We gave them notebooks and ballpoint pens to use while they listened to lectures on the Principle. We shared our meals with them. After lectures, the German missionary would drive them home. But our results were not so good. After a while it became clear to us that their motivation in coming was not very pure. Compared to their poor life, ours must have been attractive. Since the center was located in the middle of the city, people could easily come. Sometimes we had as many as 21 guests for Sunday service. Yet when we moved to a larger but less centrally located center, we found that only those with pure motivation would come. Still, at this time, several of the native brothers moved in.
Since I could no longer stay in the country as a student, I started to work as a high school teacher. However, a high official in the ministry of education rejected my application as a teacher. I seriously prayed every day and made conditions. The results did not change. I remembered that one time Father said, "If you have done things with your utmost sincerity, don't just look for results."
That same moment I looked out the window and saw that on the branch of a silk tree just in front of me, a bush warbler was singing so sweetly I felt he was singing for me. I felt he was trying his best to comfort me. As the weeks went by, that bush warbler was joined by another. They diligently worked to build a love nest on the branch that brushed my window sill. One day a small egg appeared in the nest. I felt the love of God. I understood Heavenly Father is love and does so much to comfort and encourage us when we find joy and delight in His creation.
When I was struggling with my visa situation, the president of the Happy World Company in Japan often appeared in my dreams and taught me about business. Therefore, from the middle of 1977, I chose the course of businessman.
Each of us was plagued by many trials. As a result of family problems, one member could no longer stay in the center. Another was possessed by an evil spirit, suffered from headaches and had to stay in bed for days. The German brother was bitterly persecuted in the company where he worked. He often cried into his pillow and felt he simply could not witness.
At the same time, the American brother received a letter from his mother-in-law, stating that his wife was going to break off her relationship with the Unification Church. He became ill and suffered from a high fever, diarrhea and vomiting. He groaned loudly every night, and I felt it was also the bitter cries of his ancestors. I was totally at a loss what to say to comfort him. Even though I knew this hurt him deeply, I was able to find a deeper relationship with him through understanding his situation.
I received a letter from a sister in Japan who often visited my parents. She said they had been in bed because of high blood pressure and my father also had problems with his neck. Since I am their only child, no one was there to take care of them. The doctor recommended an operation on my father's neck, but warned that it might paralyze the lower part of his body. The German brother's father developed heart troubles.
Hardships seemed to hit one after another. Around that time, one brother who had been struggling with evil spirit possession came into my room and secretly read the diary I had been keeping (written in English). He misunderstood when I mentioned about him, and he was hurt. I had served him with all my heart, but because he read my diary, our relationship made a 180° turnabout. I explained to him in tears what I had meant and at the time he seemed to understand. However, his past resentments towards me grew. If I could have practiced what my wife had indicated to me in her letter, I feel that I could have become humble in my attitude of faith. But somehow I could not do this and brought absolutely no results, no matter how hard I worked. I felt that Satan was taking everything away from us.
However, about this same time, as I walked along the street, I had a vision of Father as he was in his early 30's. I felt as if he were with me. I could not stop adoring him. I was drawn to incorporate in my world the intensity and the perceptive heart Father had found in his youth. Because of this experience, I feel that whenever we face our limitation, the best way to overcome it is to think of Father. I felt grateful that God gave me the perception and understanding of Father's heart. Fortunately, as time passed, we became spiritually stronger, and with God's guidance we overcame this chain of trials.
The American brother was recovering from his shock, and the German brother's father had a successful operation which relieved his heart. Some time later, both his parents attended a workshop for parents. My father's health improved and he did not have to undergo the operation after all. The native member who had growing resentments against me forgot them because he was physically ill.
Through the trial with the native brother, I repented of my attitude, and my feeling towards the other brothers changed for the better. Through this experience I realized that the way of indemnity is strict and merciless. A little word said in haste or without thinking might hurt a person so much that it would drive him to resentment. I had never had such an experience with anyone: I suffered immensely, but learned in proportion to my suffering.
I learned so much about repentance and relationships between brothers and sisters. I understood it was hell to be resented by someone.
In February of 1978, we went to a regional conference in Kinshasa, Zaire, where we heard the testimony of our IW. During that conference, she talked to us about Uganda and told us that Father was praying for our nation: she also informed us that Satan was seeking our lives to pay the historical debt of Uganda, since not enough blood had been shed. She then suggested that we each draw some blood and bury it in our holy ground. Later she had personal interviews with each of us. She told me that I should not relax my mind. Her words became deeply engraved within my heart. I felt at that moment that the humanistic attitude I had towards life and my mission was gone: I found that I became extremely serious. That night, she again prayed for Uganda. She decided that we should do a 40-day witnessing condition in Uganda, in case we would be unable to continue much longer in the country, and that each of us should put our hearts into it. She told us that if we did, we would not have to leave with regret.
When we arrived back in Uganda, we witnessed with fierce determination. Yet, trials were waiting for us. Without notifying us, our landlord sold the center. Since the housing situation in Kampala was bad, it was extremely difficult to find houses for rent. We reached the point where we could do no more. Yet at that time, an opening became available in the apartment house of the Uganda Church. We learned about man's portion of responsibility and God's portion of responsibility.
Each of us felt God's unlimited guidance and blessing when it became possible for us to send one of our native members to the very first 40-day training in America. Because God could do this through us, I felt that some part of our missionary task had been accomplished.
Thus the first three years ended: none of the missionaries had been expelled even once. The American brother and I left Kampala for the first time and made a trip around the eastern half of the country. Everything seemed so beautiful. I felt it might be the first and last time we could do this. We visited Murchison Falls National Park. We had experienced many hardships in the city of Kampala and could not imagine that Uganda had such a beautiful place. We saw elephants, bison, antelope, zebras, etc. The Nile River was immense and to our surprise was home for many hippopotami. It flowed as if it were lord over the land. Murchison Falls is the largest falls along the Nile, and it draws many tourists.
In the daytime, adult and baby elephants walk around the hotels, but at night the hippopotami come out of the river and sleep on the hotel lawns. "Woah! Woah!" Their voices echoed everywhere. We visited a hotel called Chobe Lodge; this was a favorite spot for a number of baboons. They even came into the hotel rooms. When I looked out of the window one day, I saw a big baboon running away with a bed sheet on his back, and one small one running after him. The hotel had a rule that we could not leave the windows and doors of the hotel rooms open, because of the baboon.
We went fishing on a rocky spot along the upper reaches of the Nile and saw about four large hippopotami coming in and out of the water. They didn't bother us, but rather looked bored by our behavior and simply yawned. On the left bank, two tall and beautiful giraffes were quietly eating their breakfast of leaves. Water birds swooped over the river and flew around us. I was so impressed by the greatness of God's creation that I felt I had entered Nirvana. At that moment, I totally forgot all the sufferings I had experienced. It was peaceful: I felt as if I were in a trance.
As long as I live, I shall not forget the African nights, especially those experienced during this one-week refuge. The calling of the hippopotami sounded like a symphony when accompanied by the chirping of crickets and grasshoppers. Numerous fireflies winked at us. I could understand why Uganda was called the "Pearl of Africa." And I had a vision of the future: once she becomes stable politically and economically, I know she will prosper and draw people by the vibrancy of her beauty.
One day there was a phone call from headquarters for the American brother. He came to me and said, "Hideaki, Father decided I should go to the Seminary" At that moment, I could not stop my tears. I could not believe it. Honestly speaking, I had felt so close to him, especially after his wife left our church. I felt that we didn't have to hide anything between us at all. All of us recognized how much this brother had contributed and how hard he had worked for the restoration of Uganda. Our hearts were reluctant to see him go.
Persecution against the Christians began to worsen. Many church buildings became empty and Christians had to work underground. At that time, I had a close relationship with one group which was banned. I often attended their meetings and taught them some of our holy songs. On my way to attend their meeting one day, I saw a few Christians in front of the African market preaching about Jesus. Even though this kind of activity was banned, they used a megaphone and looked like they were not about to stop. Later we heard that one of them was arrested and imprisoned. Yet the leader of the group said, "Don't worry! God is with us. Let's pray for our brother." All of us prayed together for the safety of his life. Yet it became a serious commitment to all who attended; we again had to risk our lives in order to come. 'Two days later, the Christian was released. However, one day soldiers armed with guns stormed the church. Gunfire was rampant; some of the leaders were arrested and imprisoned.
I felt that since I was in Uganda as a representative of the True Parents, it was my duty to visit them, and I tried always to comfort and encourage them. I found that the word "hope" became totally meaningless to them. I made efforts to meet as many earnest Christians as possible. I visited many places and actively contacted people. I studied the Bible with them and spoke some words of encouragement whenever possible. I often spoke to them, emphasizing the mission of Christians in Uganda. Because of my situation, I could not mention the Unification Church.
To our surprise, in the middle of November, a round-trip ticket between Kampala and Kinshasa was sent to me from New York. We were not able to find out why it was sent, so I went to Zaire in faith, not knowing what to expect. Gregory [Novalis] and Pamela [Stein] phoned New York to ask why I was to come, and we found out that headquarters had not sent such a ticket. In fact, they called everywhere, for two weeks, to try to find out who had sent the ticket, but no one knew.
However, the two weeks I was in Zaire was a totally wonderful experience for me. I especially cannot forget the relationship I had with Pamela. I listened to the severe battle she had to go through in Zaire and sympathized with her from the bottom of my heart. We prayed together in tears. We had no missionary sisters in Uganda and I didn't know their heart. But through my relationship with Pamela, another world of the heart opened for me. I believe it was under God's guidance, and I am grateful for it.
I also talked with Gregory for many hours every day. I was really moved by his parental heart and could see how warmly he embraced each one of his members. Through him, my pessimistic view turned a bit more optimistic.
Seeing that the Zaire family was developing, I felt hope for the future of all Africa. Until then, I was bound by the idea of martyrdom. However, Gregory always gave many testimonies as if he were encouraging me. I also gave testimonies of the Uganda mission and delivered Sunday sermons. For me it was really an experience of the Kingdom of Heaven. Except for Heavenly Father, to this day no one knows why I went to Zaire.
After I returned to Uganda, I invested myself into my business with even greater vigor. We started to see women in blouses, skirts and dresses. I became a popular figure. Wherever I went with my big vinyl bag full of women's clothes, they stopped me and looked at the goods. Of course, there were many temptations. Since Africans are very open people, right in front of me the women would take off their clothes in order to try on a blouse or skirt. Since I had gone through the trial with my housemate, I was trained against such temptations and only thought about my selling mission.
The war continued to escalate, and the German missionary urged me to go to Nairobi and get out of danger. I thought that he might die if only he and one other native brother stayed. On the other hand, I felt that as a blessed member I should continue God's lineage. However, when I even thought of what might happen to them, I felt I should share their destiny. I told my German brother, "I will not leave Uganda unless there is an instruction from headquarters."
Meanwhile. Entebbe closed. Kampala was surrounded by Tanzanian troops. Amazingly, the city itself was calm. Therefore, we continued our business and witnessing activities. The other members could not stay in Kampala and either returned home or went to other countries.
We celebrated Parents' Day as usual. That same night, long-range bombs were fired from Tanzania: their target was Kampala. Bombs over one meter in size flew in from a distance like missiles and exploded. Tremendous vibrations were felt throughout the city. The three of us started to pray desperately. We felt as if it would be the last day of our physical lives; we prepared to go to spirit world. Only tears of repentance welled up in my eyes. I felt I had accomplished nothing and that I was not qualified to go to the spirit world. I felt so sorry in front of Heavenly Father and True Parents. Unknown to the rest of the country, that was Parents' Day. It was the day when the war developed into a full-scale battle; many foreigners ran away.
A 6:00 p.m. curfew forced us to stay in the center. The new center did not have tap water; this forced us to draw water in cans. We devised elaborate plans for every use of water: washing dishes, using the toilet, laundry, taking showers, etc. Before Parents' Day we made up a huge batch of kimchi. This turned out to be our good fortune, because it was our only vegetable during the war. We ate it with dried foods.
We were so tense every day. Late one night, the army pushed its way into our apartment in search of guerrillas. I looked out of the window and saw war planes and anti-aircraft guns. Tanks passed by constantly. I always had the feeling that the next bomb would come to us. At night soldiers came into our yard and started shooting each other.
Because we lived under this constant pressure, the German brother and I prayed together and studied together as much as possible. I remember one day in particular when I stubbornly refused to listen to him. He cried. His next words pierced my soul: if we did not make unity, we might die. We were on the borderline of life and death. I had acted self-centeredly. I realized my fallen nature and cried to God desperately to be able to change. The three of us then persevered through the war under the warm and embracing leadership of my German brother.
Our center inhabited a hill in Kampala; unfortunately, it was the same one which housed the army headquarters. Our neighborhood became the final battleground of the war.
Yet in the midst of this, I received a telephone call from Japan. (At that time we could not make outgoing calls, but could only receive them.) What a surprise! I heard the voice of my wife for the first time in four years. The only thing I could tell her was that I was all right and that it was impossible to leave Kampala, so I had made up my mind to stay there. I sensed her inner anguish, but I could not do or say anything else of any comfort.
One day around 1:30 a.m. there was a phone call directly from Rev. Kwak in New York. He spoke to me in Japanese and suggested that we all try to go to Kenya. Even during that conversation, bombs were falling around the center.
Actually it was impossible to escape Kampala, yet I made myself ready to faithfully follow whatever Rev. Kwak might instruct us. It was difficult for anyone to go but literally impossible for Ugandans to cross the border. My German brother and I could only look at our native member and cry. Rev. Kwak told us that we should pray deeply and act with absolute faith in God.
The same night of that phone call, I had a spiritual battle. A huge black man came beside my mattress and tried to kill me. I was overwhelmed by his spiritual power; I knew he wanted to kill me. All my strength was completely drained away. I knew that if I continued to fight against him with absolutely no strength, I would die, but I could not do anything at all. After persevering about 40 minutes, I felt strength grow within me. Finally I managed to push him away. He ran and I ran after him. When I caught him, he turned out to be a beautiful woman. I pushed her away. After this, Rev. Kwak appeared and smiled at me. From this experience I could understand a little of Jacob's battle against the angel at the ford of Jabbok.
Later that same night, more fighting broke out. The three of us woke up, and we could do nothing but go to the prayer room and pray desperately. The battle was so gruesome we thought we might die. The army was making a last attempt to defend its headquarters. Fortunately, the peak of the battle was over by morning. Immediately, we started to pack our bags, following Rev. Kwak's instruction. The next flight out of the country was not for three days. We felt that we simply could not go back to our center, so we prepared to move to a house in the section of town in which the embassy personnel lived.
I wondered about my fate. It was risky to leave; we did not know what would happen. It was as if my life flashed before my mind. I felt sorry for myself and did not feel worthy to go to the spirit world. My heart filled with the feeling that I was a real son of Father. I had compassion on Heavenly Father who had to watch such miserable people as us. I felt sorry for my wife. I went to the prayer room and collapsed in tears. I could only pray, "I am Your true son. And here I am now." An indescribable calm came over me.
About 6:00 p.m. I heard noisy voices outside the apartment. Then my German brother and our member rushed into the prayer room shouting, "Kampala has been liberated." All three of us jumped up and embraced each other. We slept peacefully for the first time that night. The three of us shared our feelings of gratitude that we could share these most trying experiences with the peoples of this nation.
After not seeing any of my friends for a long time, I met two of them on the hill where our center was located. It was a joyous reunion. I took many long walks during the next weeks. When I walked around the devastated city alone, I could not stop crying. After the war people went through the stores and looted them. All shops were empty. Our office was completely burned. The skyline of the city showed wisps of smoke from many burned buildings. Dead bodies were left lying about.
Kampala had to begin again. Until the war, we had so many good contacts with shop owners. It was as if that was our home church work. Yet, because of the racial conflict, they had left Uganda. When I walked around the devastated city of Kampala, I deeply understood how the prophets cried upon seeing the devastated city of Jerusalem. I prayed with tears, asking Heavenly Father how this country could receive His blessing and prosper again.
Ugandans are incredible people. They lost everything through the war. Yet after a few months, stores and offices opened again. I have great admiration for their vitality and determination.
My heart was filled when I thought Uganda could gain true freedom and people could once again be happy. I wondered how it was possible that man was treated like a small insect. Life was so easily crushed. I could not stop crying. I thought deeply about how we had to teach the people of Uganda about the value of man.
Meanwhile, I received a letter from my spiritual father. He mentioned that he had recently been matched. It was the first time a Japanese man had been matched to a black sister. He said that it had always been in his mind that I was working hard in Africa and he wanted to accept matching with a black sister; in this way, he hoped that he could assist our mission. I realized that we were devoting ourselves to restoring the world. Father is undertaking the entire burden, and each of us in our respective missions helps him to the degree we can.
I reapplied for a work permit again and again. I met the Minister of Internal Affairs three more times. Yet, I was not permitted to stay in Uganda any longer. I had to leave my beloved mission country.
After my experience in Uganda, I deeply realized how the way of restoration through indemnity was strict. I could not go into victory through indemnity with simply conceptual faith. Through living together with other missionaries and native members, the hidden problems of my faith and personality were clearly disclosed. I had no way to avoid them: I had to face them squarely and deal with them. By doing so, I believe that my faith and personality strengthened.
Even though we had some conflicts with each other because of the differences in language, customs, manners and cultures, I realized that we are brothers of the same True Parents and have the same heart.