Review of Deeper than African Soil
Deeper than African Soil, a memoir by Faith Eidse (Masthof Press, 2023). 344 pp. Reviewed by Doris Penner, a member of Prairie Rose EMC.
Faith Eidse’s memoir is essentially a coming-of-age story, but what makes it unique is the backdrop of growing up in Africa with intermittent periods spent “back home” in Manitoba. Her childhood and teenage years encapsulate experiences seldom faced by children in Canadian culture, such as frequent separation from family, boarding school trauma, escaping revolution and grappling with new cultures.
Deeper than African Soil begins with Eidse’s first memories of Congo as daughter of Ben and Helen Eidse, well-known in EMC circles as missionaries working in Bible translation and health care. It concludes with her graduation from high school when another wrenching separation confronted her—leaving behind the places that were so embedded in her soul, running “deeper than African soil.”
While some readers may question the reliability of memories retrieved decades after the lived experience, Eidse is upfront with the way her story is told—not necessarily exactly as it happened, but the way she remembers it.
This book is particularly valuable because it explores missionary experience from a child’s point of view. While some readers may question the reliability of memories retrieved decades after the lived experience, Eidse is upfront with the way her story is told—not necessarily exactly as it happened, but the way she remembers it. So while events may be compressed and dialogues recreated, the feelings of pain, anxiety, joy and exhilaration remain vivid in her memory.
Eidse is at her best in the first half of the book, drawing in the reader with her vibrant descriptions of the wild raw landscape, daily life in the villages and interactions through work and play with the local Congolese. We get glimpses of the work her parents are involved in, but only as it intersects with the life of the sisters. For example, in a later evaluation, Eidse acknowledges that in accompanying her mother, Helen, on visits to attend leprosy patients, her empathy for those in suffering began to mature.
Even as a child, Eidse is aware of issues that as an adult she would more deeply grapple with—the disparity between rich and poor, for example (“we often rode while they walked, flew while they stayed”). Her response in the early years was simply to dive in, hunt and play in an effort to close the gap.
Eidse devotes several chapters to the revolution of the 1960s—the graphic first-person account will intrigue students of African politics. Again, it’s interesting to read about the terror and atrocities of war from a child’s perspective; the adventure, yes, but more the anxiety and fear of the unknown.
In the latter half of the memoir, Eidse faces the usual angst of teenage years—looking for love and acceptance, defining relationships with boys, and figuring out who she wants to be. Over and above that, she struggles with being separated from parents, strict rules in the Mennonite hostel and emotional and sexual abuse.
The pervading conclusion the reader is left with is that not enough attention has been given to “third culture kids” (TCKs)—those raised in a culture other than their parents’ culture—and never feeling rooted in either. Eidse’s memoir is an impressive account of exploring how the feelings of displacement come about and the challenges it creates.
Faith Eidse has published her parents’ oral history, Light of the World (2012) and a novel based on her years of volunteering in women’s prisons, Healing Falls (2018), as well contributed to several books on growing up global. Her memoir, Deeper than African Soil, won the Kingsbury Award for writing.
