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In 1995 I spent two days in Kakuma refugee camp, a sprawling home to more than 50,000 Africans, most of them Sudanese, who had fled war and starvation at home. Everywhere I went in the camp children would run up to me calling "Mak! Mak! Mak!" I was rather puzzled by this behaviour until I realized that it was actually a case of mistaken identity. The only white person these children really knew was Marc ("Mak") Nikkel. In fact everyone I met in the camp seemed to know Marc Nikkel, perhaps because one of the greatest joys of Marc's life was simply being with Sudanese, in the midst of their happiness, their struggles, their pains, their questions, their wisdom.
Marc Nikkel was born in a Mennonite family in Reedley, California. He took a first degree at California State University's School for the Visual Arts, studying some anthropology along the way. He spent two short periods of nine months in Nigeria and Zaire and studied Mission and Theology at Fuller Seminary. During his time at Fuller he was attracted to Anglicanism and was confirmed in the Episcopal Church.
He began service as a Mission Partner of the Episcopal Church, U.S.A. teaching Theology at Bishop Gwynne Theological College, Mundri, Sudan in 1981. His first letters home to his friends on his mailing list are filled with the wonder of new things and the joy of being a part of preparing people for service in the Episcopal Church of the Sudan (ECS).1 One of his favorite duties between terms was to visit "cattle camp", the traditional traveling villages of the "Jieng" people." Here he learned not only their language but also a deep appreciation of their culture and traditions. Very quickly, however, his letters began to hint of the rumours of renewed war. After decades of civil war, Sudan had been living in a period of relative calm. New rulers and new policies discriminatory of the people of the Southern Sudan and especially of non-Muslims began to fuel the old fires. Life became more tenuous. His letters began to hint of the trials of being a Christian community in the midst of growing conflict.
My wife, Wendy and I met Marc in 1986. He was on leave...