“Baptizing the Gun”

“Baptizing the Gun” by Uwen Akpan was an interesting story about the travels of a Roman Catholic priest that is finding money to aid in helping out swamp-dwellers in the Niger Delta. These people were killed in an oil fire and the priest travels to Lagos, which is war-torn, to ask rich parishes for money. He has been successful in getting churches to send money and supplies but runs into a problem when a Lagosian tries to help him and comes along for the ride. The whole time they are driving together, the priest thinks that the man is just trying to kill him and thinks that he has a gun in his pocket. They run into several mishaps, mostly because the car the priest is driving has a lot of mechanical issues. In the last scene, they have a mechanic helping them with the car and at this point, the priest realizes that there is no gun in the Lagosian’s pocket and that it is just a handkerchief.

I enjoyed this story because the priest reminded me of myself in a lot of ways. He was terrified for his life for most of the ride and then began to accept his fate that the Lagosian was going to kill him. I have really bad anxiety so I would have done the same thing as the priest and thought the worst of the man that is riding with him. Also, I would have convinced myself that the bulge in his pocket was a gun as the man in this story did. Looking back on some of the quotes referencing the gun, it now makes sense that it was actually a handkerchief. For example, “Sweat dribbles down his face. He reaches for the gun but changes his mind.” Now it makes sense that the item in his pocket was not a gun because he went to pull it out when he was sweating. 

            I also liked the quote that said “We’ve been driving now for three, four miles, the longest stretch since the Lagosian kidnapped me.” I would have considered it kidnapping too if I was in the same situation because of my high anxiety. Overall, the priest really reminded me of myself and I could see myself reacting very similarly in the situations he was placed in. One other minor detail that I liked about this was how by the end of the story, the priest began to call the Lagosian his “companion.” The author/narrator repeatedly began sentences with “my companion” and went on to describe who he previously referred to as his kidnapper. I thought this was interesting because to me, companion means a friend. This shows the typical attitude of a priest, who tend to always find the best in people.

Vocab:

Bludgeon: something used to attack or bully

“The bass guitar of Awilo Longomba’s “Coupe Bibamba” begins to bludgeon the night from two loudspeakers.”

Coiffure: a style or manner of arranging the hair

“The chef, sporting stretch jeans, a T-shirt, and a Grace Jones coiffure, is dancing for the crowd.”

Mudguard: fender of a car

“Then he rushes to my side and, together with the mechanic and his family, leads me over to sit on the Beetle’s mudguard.”

Guffaw: a loud or boisterous burst of laughter

            “He’s tapping the dashboard again. His chortle bottoms out into a relentless guffaw.”