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Mormon Apartheid: Revelation for Blacks

I grew up in a village in Maseru, Lesotho, where I first became acquainted with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Having been troubled there by the Catholic priests who were slipping into villages for want of "entertainment" only to be chased with fighting sticks by husbands, I began to question my position in the Catholic church. Not only had some of these priests left villages in alarm, one of them witnessed my marriage erode. After hours he and my exhusband roasted fresh lamp chops with a "lady friend". I busily mothered and fathered our one child and was heavy with another about 60 miles south.

Miles became more miles. These became years and these years seemed like centuries culminating with hair loss, with new acne sprouts and constant headaches. My brothers funeral, when our second child was two years, was my last reunion with my exhusband. I have not had the conscience to speak openly of the precise nature of our parting, for I see it as injustice to him to speak in public about things that we never confronted in person. Besides, he is a wonderful man who has brought to my life two wonderful children. Suffice is to say his departure was not without participation of the local priest at Motsekuoa Parish in the Mafeteng District.

As my separation from my spouse ensued, I felt my faith dwindle.

For years I longed for God. I looked for congregational companionship that was soon manifest through the arrival of two LDS missionaries. Upon presentation of their beliefs, I set out to try the beliefs. I had no doubt about the authenticity of the things they told me. For about three years, I volunteered as an LDS missionary, directing missionaries to potential members without a grudge. My thirst to learn more about the church was ever increasing. I had a question after another. IT was never ending. The church members in South Africa, where the church was bigger and where there were mission presidents assigned for two years to the area, were willing to talk and embraced questions about the church.

Utah home to the church was delightful news to me. Here all questions, all concerns, queries, you name it, would be laid out and things would unravel. After my experience with the church in Holladay Utah I wondered whether everything I was involved in regarding the church was all hallucinations. I was hit with a new wave of complexity which in my view faces Mormonism. This problem is what I call Mormon Apartheid. I cried

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