“The Missionary” is included in Roméo et Julliette chez les nègres (2015), a collection of short stories written in French by Dominique Lanni. Each of the 11 short stories addresses one singular topic, colonial racism. “The Missionary” is a tale of the coming of age and misadventures of an overzealous young man, on his first mission to Africa, whose aim is to convert the world over. Through the guilelessness and the optimistic naiveté of the young missionary, Dominique Lanni cleverly addresses racism and the white savior complex. Lanni does not shy away from colonialism’s dark, not-so-distant history, yet writes with wit and humor, weaving irony into the quaint narrative. The absurdity and stupidity of bigotry are comically painted while the experiences of the oppressed and judged are never minimized or discounted. “The Missionary” exemplifies that learning from others can in fact be more valuable than teaching and that sometimes it is the savior who needs the saving. — Amy Gamble
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The Missionary
“Missionary: One who is employed in the Missions for the instruction and the conversion of peoples”
— Dictionary of the Académie Française
One day, Gregoire Labbé came up with the absurd idea of spreading the good news across the globe and announcing the imminent return of the One whom everyone was awaiting.
As a child, Grégoire Labbé was not interested in knights’ tales and stories of nobility. He preferred to read stories about missionaries and the Lives of Saints and the Bible, that is, he preferred the cloth to the sword. While his schoolmates were playing cops and robbers, he was playing missionaries and pagans. And already his chosen task was proving to be difficult. More than once the pagans, the most reluctant of the group, showed him what he was up against and pummeled him.
For him, catechism was a revelation: intensely experiencing each episode of the Passion, he suffered along with Christ. Why did they torture him so? He who was only Love and Light?
His mother, who only found him to be odd, was not alarmed until she discovered him wearing a crown of thorns on his skull ready to be nailed to a table by two of his disciples whom he had convinced to inflict martyrdom on him and who were well prepared to follow through with the task. She decided to take the matter seriously. He joined the seminary. Among the students were those whose sole ambition was to become bishop and archbishop who secretly harbored the desire to ascend to a higher position, yet Grégoire dreamed only of converting the world.
For three years, they were able to curb the impatient and zealous missionary. In the fourth year, restrained no longer, he was ordained and sent out to convert whomever he pleased whether on Earth or on Sirius.
Failing to have the power to convert the globe in one fell swoop, the newly ordained priest decided to start where there were the most souls to save: Africa, The Country of Ham, Land of Nights … Having reached the port closest to the seminary, he boarded the first ship casting off to Africa. It was pointless to warn him about the perils of crossing the sea and the dangers of the continent noir, the newly branded missionary would hear none of it. He left as if off to his honeymoon or marital bed.
Upon arrival in Africa, at the first mission he found, the first thing he asked was if there were any pagans in the area to convert.
“Oh, my heavens,” they answered very politely and without the least bit of shame, “pagans, under these skies, why that’s all there is … starting with the ones who live in the depths of the forest you see way over there who are called, I believe, the Ouala-Ouala.”
This response did not please him in the least. He demanded that the Bons Pères explain what they were doing, sitting around playing dice while paganism was knocking on the mission doors.
There were cannibals out there, the Bons Pères answered, and anyone who had ever gotten it into their head to go and convert them had never returned.
“And so, what?” He cried. “Is it because some cowards, some defeatists crawled away on their bellies at the first sign of trouble running away and holing themselves up in the back of a hut until the end of time? Is there no one to go and bring these pagans the Good news?”
Slamming the mission door Grégoire Labbé shouted that he would go alone, he’d show everyone how to convert, and as soon as these pagans were put on the right path, he would deliver all of Africa into the arms of God.
The priests recognized that there was no use trying to reason with this missionary who was more enlightened than zealous, so they let him go and began to pray for the salvation of his soul.
*
After traveling through the forest for three days and three nights, Grégoire Labbé finally stumbled upon the ferocious tribe of the Ouala-Ouala. Or rather, it was the Ouala-Ouala who stumbled upon him. Grégoire was elated: they were just as terrifying as he had hoped. Having scarcely reached their village, Grégoire Labbé received confirmation that the Ouala-Ouala were in fact human flesh eaters when he saw them lighting a fire and readying a spit meant for him. As the Ouala-Ouala were going about getting ready to roast him, Grégoire Labbé fell into a dark rage and heedlessly reprimanded them to such an extent his voice echoed through the entire forest: “What?” he yelled. “So, this is how you treat people who come to your country sent to save you!”
What happened next was unbelievable! As he was chastising them, the sky, until then a beautiful azure, darkened and opened up across this country that was facing a decade-long drought, and released the most formidable downpour there had ever been. They freed Grégoire Labbé: the chaos ended on the spot.
The Ouala-Ouala, who took this as a sign, immediately turned themselves over to him; he baptized the entire village all at once and began to dedicate his days to teaching them God’s good word.
Among the Ouala-Ouala, there was one who was called Ourou-Ourou who seemed to understand everything he was told better than the others. Grégoire Labbé taught him the most beautiful language in the world. Since Ourou-Ourou learned quickly, he was able to relay everything he was told back to his people and became the missionary’s liaison.
Once Ourou-Ourou was well enough versed in theology to debate with him, he was finally able to ask Grégoire Labbé what was this sin that he often spoke so passionately about. Grégoire responded that there were seven in existence, he listed them and explained what they meant.
“What? Each time we enjoy the piri-piri and savor the mata-mata, foods and nectar that intoxicate our senses,” asked Ourou-Ourou, “that’s a sin?”
“Yes, that is a sin!” replied Grégoire Labbé, completely inflexible.
“What? Each time after we bask in the waves of the river, and then stretch out over the rocks under the shade of a hundred-year-old tree abandoning ourselves to our most delightful daydreams,” inquired Ourou-Ourou, “that’s a sin?”
“Yes, that is a sin!” retorted Grégoire perfectly intractable.
“What? Each time we take a liking to one of our women and one of our women likes us and we feel the need to show each other the liveliest of affections in the middle of all those we love and to have them share in our joy and invite them to join us,” asked Ourou-Ourou, “that’s a sin?”
“Yes, that is a sin!” retorted Grégoire Labbé totally incorruptible.
And for each case that Ourou-Ourou presented, Grégoire Labbé, answered invariably and to no end: “Yes, it is a sin!” so Ourou-Ourou asked him if he had ever committed a sin. Grégoire Labbé told him that he had in fact sinned a long time ago and that he had repented but if he converted everyone, the Lord would pardon all of his indiscretions.
Ourou-Ourou asked what this word “convert” meant that he made such a fuss about. Grégoire told him that it was to live and conduct oneself according to the principles of The Creator of All.
*
One day the chief of the nègrerie had Ourou-Ourou relay the message that he and the entire village would follow these principles if Grégoire Labbé agreed to participate in the traditional dinner of friendship. He accepted without a second thought. They served him. He ate. He liked it. And had honestly never before tasted meat so tender and so well-seasoned. The custom was to feast, so he asked permission to serve himself more and filled up another plate. They poured him a drink. He drank. He liked it. And in all honesty, he had never consumed nectar so full-bodied and bewitching. But the drink soon went to his head. In his current state he mistakenly allowed his gaze to linger on the goddess who had served him. He approached her, wanting to get a closer look at how she was built. The others laughed. He laughed too, gave into everything, stayed in bed, and didn’t regain consciousness until the sun was high in the sky. It was then that he was afraid to recognize what had happened.
“You heathens! How could you, lead me to commit, against my will, all the things I did?” he snarled.
“But” replied Ourou-Ourou, “we haven’t done anything to you against your will. We simply invited you to the dinner of friendship. So, when you asked for seconds and we conceded, didn’t you gluttonously delve into the feast on your own free will? And while you were stretched out in the middle of us on the cold ground sleeping off the mata-mata that you gorged yourself with, didn’t you give into sloth? And when you set your eyes on the face, the thighs and the breasts of sweet Ouma-Ouma, and you saw that we were all happy, weren’t you suddenly envious of our joy … And when you cycled through the women all night long, her and all the others that wanted to share our custom with you because they found you attractive and strong, did you not give in to lust? And when you awoke and the first thing that came to your mind was to reprimand us, did you not give in to wrath? And why? Because since your arrival, you only think of converting us? And why? For us? No. For you. Because deep down you are acting on pride and greed. Listen to me and believe me: we are free and we are happy. If you want to live among us, you are welcome to do so, but abandon the idea of converting us. If you do not wish to remain with us, then go, and go wherever you want, convert whoever you wish.”
Having heard this Grégoire Labbé remained in a dispirited state of shock for three days forgetting to eat and drink. Then on the fourth day he made his decision.
*
An expedition was dispatched by the governor of Senegal to see if Grégoire Labbé was still of this world, to help him and pull him from the clutches of the infamous savages. When he was found, it was clear that the missionary had changed a great deal. The tonsure on his crown had grown-in and he had abandoned his vestments. It was the Ouala-Ouala who had converted him.