Member Voices
Washed Clean by the Rains
“There was the Book of Mormon sitting right on the very top, rinsed clean by the rains. The pages had been washed and were fluttering dry in the breeze. At that moment it struck me that this book was in some way ‘self-preserving’.”
I was born and brought up in the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. As a young child, my family and I attended church and I was an altar boy. (This is where I learned to speak English.) We attended regularly, but over time I became discouraged with religion and promised myself that I would never be a part of an organized religion again.
As an adult I lived on the streets. I ate and clothed myself from items I found in rubbish bins. I worked at recycling but became deeply involved in the slum culture of drugs—selling and smoking marijuana on a regular basis. I married but struggled to care for and provide for my wife.
One day, as I was going through the recyclables, I came across a book. It was the Book of Mormon. It was dirty and soiled, so I threw it back into the bin and went on with my work. Sometime later, I was going through a different recyclables bin and came upon the very same book. It was still in poor shape, but I thought it might have some value if I were to sell it to someone—so I threw it in with my pile of recyclables.
Then the rainy season came—and one day, when returning to my pile of goods, there was the Book of Mormon sitting right on the very top, rinsed clean by the rains. The pages had been washed and were fluttering dry in the breeze. It was in much better condition than I had first found it. At that moment it struck me that this book was in some way “self-preserving”—especially since it had crossed into my life now three times. I decided to take it home, where I put in on a small shelf in my shack. There it sat for almost a year.
One day as I was spraying insecticide in my shack, I moved a few items and again noticed the book. This time I opened it and read the cover page. Then the next page and the next and the next. I was intrigued by the story of the angel Moroni appearing to the young boy Joseph Smith. I read a little further and found myself completely engrossed. For the next ten days I read the book, and for some curious reason I felt a strong urge to stop smoking marijuana. Reading the book took my mind off my need for the drug. My skin started itching and burning—and I could not sleep. But as I read the Book of Mormon, this agony was relieved, and I kept reading.
I got to 3 Nephi 27 and read: “Therefore, whatsoever ye shall do, ye shall do it in my name; therefore ye shall call the church in my name; and ye shall call upon the Father in my name that he will bless the church for my sake.
“And how be it my church save it be called in my name? For if a church be called in Moses’ name then it be Moses’ church; or if it be called in the name of a man then it be the church of a man; but if it be called in my name then it is my church, if it so be that they are built upon my gospel” (3 Nephi 27:7–8).
That’s it I thought! I must look for a church that goes by the name of Jesus Christ. But no matter how long I searched, I could not find it. For seven years, I continued my quest. My friends kept trying to get me to return to my old lifestyle and smoke with them, but I refused—for I had given that life up for good!
By this time, I had become employed as a security guard. One Sunday—on election day—I went to vote during my lunch hour. As I got to the Catholic Church building where the voting was being held, I noticed a placard directing members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to meet at a certain location for transport to a conference some distance away. I literally ran to this place and caught the last man getting on the bus. “Where is this church?” I asked him. “I want to be a member!” The man gave me contact information for the missionaries and took my telephone number. He said he would pass my information along to the elders.
A few days later, I received a call from a good missionary, Elder Egbert Brandin. He and his companion came and taught me about the plan of salvation—and I knew immediately that this is the true Church of God. Shortly afterward, I entered the waters of baptism and was washed clean—just like my copy of the Book of Mormon.