The Words of the Singh Family
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The Words of the Singh Family |
Mr. U. Singh is an associate member who joined in Zambia and recently visited New York.
I was born into an into a high-caste Hindu family. We have an unfortunate system, and I was in the so-called elite or privileged group. I got my B.A and M.A. in history and English at Punjab University, and I started teaching at Hariana College in Punjab. Then in 1964 the government of Ethiopia selected a team of about twenty lecturers to be employed by the Ministry of Education there to teach various subjects like science, math, and history. I was selected to lecture in history. They provided the airfare to Ethiopia, and I got my passport ready.
I was just 20 years old then. Going to a foreign land was exciting, especially Ethiopia. I had read much about Ethiopia and I liked it. At that time the country was ruled by Emperor Haile Selassie. They were fond of saying that it was the land of milk and honey. About half the population is Orthodox Christian. It is like a Christian island in a Muslim sea. The people there were very friendly, hospitable, and God-fearing. The emperor too was, to my mind, a very good person, bringing about a great deal of progress in his country.
I married in 1972. Every two or three years I went back to India, because the government would give us passage back and forth, and I married there. My wife came back with me to live in Ethiopia.
The communists took over Ethiopia in 1974 and they caused a lot of bloodshed. They started killing those of the upper classes. In Addis Ababa I was teaching at a teacher's education college. Communist government officials would come into the school during classes and take certain students who they knew opposed their regime. Then they would line them up in the street and shoot them. I saw this with my own eyes. The communists wanted the people to see what happens to opponents of the government. They didn't want to keep it secret. I deplored this bloodshed, and I stated my views to the students in my classes. I said, "I believe in God and therefore I don't like bloodshed of any kind. People should be good, gentle, and God-fearing." I openly said that this killing was wrong.
Anyone who was not a citizen of Ethiopia had to sign a contract that they wouldn't interfere at all with the religious or political affairs of the country. Originally, I had no intention of interfering, but I liked the Ethiopian people and Ethiopia, and when I saw students being killed I couldn't help voicing my protest. If some of the military or police officers came into one of my classes to drag a student away I would tell them directly, "No! This is not fair." I felt it was my duty to protect my students. The communists threatened that if I continued to speak out like this, I would be put in prison and there would be dire consequences. So it appears I earned some powerful enemies without realizing it.
Communist militants were going house-to-house, and one day they came to my home. In my sitting room they saw a photograph of me with the emperor. I knew the emperor personally because I had been a private tutor to one of his relatives. They just saw it and tore it up. They said he was our oppressor and they didn't want to see his face. I said, "It is my memento." But they just destroyed it.
Then in 1977 I had a terrible car accident, a head-on collision. I was driving in my car when a Land Rover came directly at me. I honked my horn but the car kept coming. Then it crashed into me. Some people feel that it was an engineered affair, that somebody was trying to kill me. Who could have been behind it? The communists. I suspect only them -- I had no other enemies. I thought I was doing God's will but some people had become very angry with me, and that's why I feel the accident was definitely arranged, though there is no conclusive proof of that.
The doctors did not expect me to survive. Most of the bones in my body were broken. Even now I have metal plates and rods holding my body together. I survived only with the help of God.
When I was in the hospital a miracle happened. The miracle was that even though the doctors and my family thought I was unconscious, I clearly remember seeing an Oriental man pulling me out of death, out of a deep, dark pit, saying, "You will not die." The next morning I regained consciousness and I started asking people, "Who was the gentleman with the Oriental face who saved me last night from death?" No one knew anything about it. At that time I had heard nothing about Father Moon or the Unification Church. I asked, "Is there any medical person here -- a doctor or a nurse -- with an Oriental face?" And they said, "No. Some are European, some Indian, some Africans, but there is nobody with an Oriental face here." They thought I had just had a hallucination. But I went on believing.
After I recuperated from the accident I was not allowed to leave the country because I was still under government contract. I knew there were some groups inside the country that did not like to be opposed, and that they might still try to kill me. I was afraid. After that I never went out in the evening -- never. I would stay at home. A few of my good friends realized that some fanatics had tried to kill me, so they protected me after that. I worked for the OAU [Organization of African Unity] as a freelance journalist, and they had a high opinion of me. So some of these friends protected me. They were very kind.
In July 1979 my contract ran out. Since I had many friends in the field of journalism 1 could have gone almost anywhere in Africa. But the Ministry of Education in Zambia contacted me and offered me another educational contract. So I went to work for the Zambian government.
In 1983 I met Robert and Heidrun Williamson, the missionaries in Zambia, through a mutual Ethiopian friend. When Heidrun showed me the photograph of Rev. Moon I immediately told my wife that this was the man who had saved me at the time of the accident, when nobody had believed me. Since then even my wife has started believing. She is from a good upper-caste Hindu family. I thought she would be too orthodox in her religion, but now she feels that if I could not forget something for so many years, then truly Father Moon with his spiritual powers must have saved me.
I joined the church as an associate member in 1983, and now my wife is also a member and my children, ages 12 and 10, are deeply interested in the church. My wife runs a secondary school that our church started in Lusaka. In addition to my government job of teaching history at various schools and colleges, I edit PWPA books and pamphlets -- operating in an honorary editorial capacity. The regional director recently asked me to help organize an agricultural and technical college proposed by the church in Zambia. I am to play an active role in establishing and running it.
When I was born in a small village in India, the local astrologer predicted that I was to accomplish great things in life. I feel that prophecy can come true now, because from death the spiritual hands of Father Moon saved me; he rescued me for some higher purpose. I am fully convinced of that.