Sister Marie-Celine, MICM
Saint Josephine bakhita
Flower Of The Africa Desert
My entire life has been a gift of God. – This gratitude hardly seems believable coming from someone who had been sold into slavery and was abused for a number of years. Yet, it came from a soul who found God in spite of the worst circumstances. In a time when God was raising up great saints: Saints Bernadette and Therese in France, John Bosco and Pius X in Italy, Damien at Molokai, He was forming a beautiful soul in the arid sands of Africa. In an incredible journey from slave to child of God, to religious Sister, Josephine Bakhita became an example of humility and heroic spirituality. This tender flower of the African desert blossomed and was picked by God to share her wondrous story of grace and forgiveness with the world. She tells us, “I here dictate some of the events in my life… May these recollections of mine serve to make me always better appreciate the great gift God has given to me in choosing me to be His spouse.”
Africa
In the Darfur region of Africa in western Sudan, lay the little village of Olgossa. It was occupied by the once nomadic Daju tribe, who settled in this surprisingly beautiful, fertile, and lush area, to become crop farmers. They were a peaceful and hard-working people. Family values were cherished and polygamy was not practiced among them.
Bakhita was born into a loving and happy family in 1869. Her real name is not known. Her family was considered well-to-do, and her uncle was even chief of the village. They worked in the fields and were loved much by the villagers. Bakhita recounts, “I was raised by my father and my mother, with three brothers, three sisters and four others I never knew because they died before I was born.” Bakhita would always recall later how much she loved her family and how kind her parents were.
Though their village was far removed from the other cities and towns, the people of the Daju tribe were touched by the fear and harm of slave raiders. They were living in a time when kings, governments, money hungry and greedy people exploited native Africans to fulfill their quota of slaves to work in other countries. Aside from internal trafficking, America and Europe were the main culprits of slave trade in Africa. It unfortunately made its way to Bakhita’s village.
One day, Bakhita went to the fields with her mother, while her married older sister stayed home with her baby son and Bakhita’s twin. The workers in the fields suddenly noticed a great commotion in the village. People were running in panic, houses were on fire, people had been murdered, mutilated or kidnapped. “We quickly returned home, and to our dismay we were told by the little one, all frightened and trembling, how the marauders had carried the older sister away and how she herself had only just barely escaped by hiding.”
When Bakhita’s father returned in the evening, search parties were organized which looked for hours but never found anyone. It was a heart-wrenching scene. Parents bewailed the loss of their children, families were inconsolable, erupting in moaning and anger over the slaughter. People, despairing of finding their abducted loved ones, turned to the village witchdoctor. The trusting villagers, not knowing any better, always had recourse to his superstitious practices. In their present predicament, the witchdoctor called for horrific sacrifices and gory rituals. Eventually, however, the people realized that neither the witchdoctor nor his demonic incantations could bring their family members back.
Up to this point Bakhita recalls, “I had had a very happy life, never knowing what it meant to suffer…this was my first experience of suffering, and oh, how many more would soon follow.” Although time went on and emotions settled, memories of loved ones and the scars of pain always remained for Bakhita’s family. Just as one wound healed, another would soon be inflicted.
Kidnapped
Bakhita was about eight or nine years old.
“…One morning, after breakfast, I went with one of my friends…on a walk in our fields, away from the house. Having finished our games, we decided to go pick some herbs.” While they were busying themselves, two men walked out from the forest and approached the girls. One asked Bakhita if she could go and get his bundle for him, which he said was by the edge of the forest. Her friend was told to wait for her on the path. Bakhita recounted the event, “I did not suspect anything. I quickly went and obeyed, as I always did with my mother.”
“As soon as I entered the woods, looking for the bundle that I could not find, I realized that those two were right behind me. One grabbed me roughly with one hand while he pulled out a big knife from his belt with the other. He put the point of the knife against my side and with a demanding voice said, ‘If you scream, you’re dead. Now move it. Follow us.’ The other one pushed me, aiming the barrel of his gun at my back. I was petrified.”
“Don’t waste time…call her Bakhita,”
“Violently pushed through the thick woods, along the hidden pathways and over fields, I was made to walk at a fast pace until evening. I was dead tired. My feet and legs were bleeding from stepping on sharp rocks and from walking through thorny brambles. All I could do the whole time was sob, but those hard hearts felt no pity.”
In this part of her story, Bakhita receives her name. In her book Tale of Wonder, Ida Zanolini, who interviewed Bakhita later on in life, recounts how this came about. As the men dragged the poor child through the forest, one of them asked her what her name was. On account of the frightful ordeal and mental stress she was experiencing, she was unable to remember it. “Tell him what your name is!” She could not. “Don’t waste time…call her Bakhita,” which in Arabic means ‘fortunate’ or ‘lucky.’
The three stopped only for a short time to rest and to eat, but Bakhita was too frightened to eat. Then they continued through the night. “At dawn we arrived in their village. I could not have gone any farther. One of the men grasped me by the hand and dragged me to his home and put me in a storage room full of tools and scraps of wood. There was no bed or covering of any kind. The bare earth would have to serve as both. I was given a piece of dark bread and was told, ‘Stay here.’ Then the door was closed and locked with a key.
For over a month Bakhita was confined to that little room. Years later, recounting her sufferings there she stated, “I still remember those hours of anguish when, exhausted from crying, I would fall to the floor, limp, completely numb, while my imagination carried me to my loved ones far, far away.” These thoughts of her family, their deep love and the hope of seeing them again, would help her through many more trials. “But alas, when I returned to the hard reality of my horrible solitude, I was overcome by a feeling of discouragement that seemed to shatter my heart.”
Her captors were Arab slave-traders. One morning as Bakhita was finally let out from the hut, the pitiful sight of a group of slaves trudging along the road met her eyes. Within a short time, she was purchased by the trader in charge of the caravan, thereby joining the ranks of those destined for the slave market. “They were three men and three women; one was a girl a little older than I.”
“Soon we were on the road. Just seeing the countryside, the sky, the water, just being able to breathe fresh air gave me a bit of life again, even though I did not know where I would end up.”
After eight days of walking, the caravan arrived at the slave market. “The two of us who were the smallest were always close to one another, since our feet were tied together by the same chain. When nobody was watching, we would tell each other our stories how we had been kidnapped. We talked about our dear families, and our talk increased our desire to return to our families more and more. As we lamented our unhappy fate, we also thought about plans somehow to escape. The good Lord, who was watching over us, though we did not realize at the time, gave us such an occasion. Here is how it happened.”
Escape
“The owner put us in a separate room and always locked us in, especially when he had to leave the house. It was almost dinnertime. Having returned from the market, he led to the house a mule loaded with ears of corn. He came and undid our chains, ordering us to unload the corn and to feed the mule. He then departed, absentmindedly leaving the door unlocked. We were alone and without chains. God’s providence–now was the time.”
The two girls took off as fast as they could through forests and deserts. Passing caravans and possible attacks of wild animals gripped them with fear.
Sister Mariannina Turco, to whom Bakhita told the following incident years later, recalls, “Bakhita once told me that something happened after she and her companion escaped from their owner, on the very first night they spent in the forest. While everything was dark all around them and they were hiding under some plants, she suddenly saw a beautiful figure take shape in the sky. Surrounded by light, this figure was smiling at her and pointed out the way she should follow. Without telling anything about this to her companion, she confidently followed the direction that this mysterious figure indicated. In this way, she found the strength and courage to continue on and thus they were saved from the wild beasts. Near dawn the figure disappeared, and she did not see it again.” God was watching over them.
The next day the thought of reaching their families pushed them on in hope. “Near sundown we saw a little cottage. Our hearts began to beat rapidly. We strained our eyes to see if it was our house. It was not. What bitterness, how disillusioned we felt! As we stood there thinking about what to do next, a man appeared right in front of us. Frightened, we were about to flee.”
Seeing their distress, he asked them where they were going. They answered they were looking for their parents. Willing to help them, he invited them to rest. After a short time, the man took them to his house and gave them something to eat. However, the next thing they knew they were tied and chained in the animal pen.
“Here we were, slaves again! So much for taking us to our parents. How we cried, how we suffered. We were left there for days, until a slave trader passed through. Then we were taken out of the pen and sold to that man.”
Kordofan
The girls traveled with the new slave trader until they reached the main caravan heading for the market. Those who were weak or considered a burden to the caravan were killed, beaten, or left behind in the desert. Days went by where the slaves had no water to quench their burning thirst. For almost three weeks they wearily followed in the miserable procession until they arrived at the city of El Obeid, the capital of Kordofan. Located in the “African Uplands” in Arab and Muslim territory, Kordofan was one of the largest slave markets of the world. Out of the 100,000 people living in Kordofan, 80,000 were slaves. The slaves in Bakhita’s caravan did not have much of a chance to see the city, as they were herded into warehouses and separated into categories according to healthiness. Bakhita was placed in the best one because she was a stunningly beautiful child with a healthy and robust constitution.
“When we finally arrived in the city, we were brought to the house of the Arab leader [thought to be the governor]. He was an extremely rich man and already owned a large number of slaves, all in the flower of their youth. My companion and I were destined to be the handmaids of the young ladies who were his daughters…The owner’s intention was to present us as gifts to his son when he got married.”
She felt a joyous time of peace here, a welcome change from the sorrow she had been through. She liked her new mistresses, and they treated her almost with affection. She was at their beck and call whenever they wanted to play or needed some entertainment. By her good nature she soon became the favorite, much to the envy of the other slaves. Three months passed by in this calm. One day, however, the owner’s son ordered Bakhita to fetch him a beautiful vase, which she dropped on the way. The young man exploded with threats and in a fit of anger started to kick and whip the poor girl. The fact that her mistresses watched on indifferently cut her to the quick. It took Bakhita a month to recover from the beating, and the only slave that did not taunt or leave her helpless was the little girl with whom she had arrived.
The Turkish General
It was not long before Bakhita was sold, for a third time, to a Turkish general who was passing through. The man’s mother and wife proved to be horrible and utterly wicked mistresses, demanding the superhuman from the poor slaves who lived in a constant state of fear from blows and whips. “The blows would fall on us without mercy. In the three years I spent in their service, I do not remember a day going by without my being hit. The wounds I received one day would not be healed before others were added the next, without my knowing why.”
“Poor victims of inhuman tyranny,” Bakhita would say about the slaves who, under these new owners, were subject to the basest cruelties. Even if they did nothing wrong they were used at times as something on which to vent anger. The general once ordered two soldiers to beat Bakhita and another slave. “I remember how they took aim at my thighs with the cane, taking away skin and flesh and giving me a long gash that left me immobile in bed for months. All of this had to be endured in silence because nobody came to dress our wounds or offer us a word of comfort. How many of my ill-fated companions died from the blows they suffered.”
“I have been in the middle of mud, but I never got dirty.”
If only to make things worse, Bakhita and the other slaves were subjected to tattooing in order to show to whom they belonged. Unlike methods of today, the markings were made by very painful, deep incisions, intended to become scars. Bakhita was branded with over a hundred. “I could not tell you how I felt. It seemed I was dying every moment.” Later on, Bakhita would remark, “I can honestly say that the reason I did not die was that the Lord miraculously destined me for better things.”
In the wonders of God’s grace, especially in the life of Bakhita, it is no small miracle that she was preserved from becoming victim to the filth and immorality that ran rampant in these horrible situations. In later years she would recall that it was through Our Lady and her Guardian Angel’s protection that she was never harmed in that way. “I have been in the middle of mud,” Bakhita recounted, “but I never got dirty.”
The Italian Consul
Bakhita noticed that the general began to grow uneasy. A revolution was taking place against the Egyptian government in the Sudan. Which up to this time had imposed slavery and high taxes and had controlled all Sudanese trade. In 1863, when Khedive Ismail came to power as new governor, he established an anti-slavery campaign. This did not sit well with those who made a living from slave trade. Also, he put the country in debt by misusing the funds set aside for the Suez Canal. He brought in the British to help stop slave trading. The British became involved in the campaign and at the same time offered to pay Ismail’s debts so they could have a large part in controlling the Canal. Ismail then appointed British General Charles Gordon as governor.
In 1881, Muhammed Ahmed, a fervent Muslim, declared himself the Mahdi, “the Guided One,” the establisher of a perfect Islamic world. He interpreted the actions of the government, that of Ismail and Gordon, as a threat to Islam. His main goal was to unite the Sudanese under Islamic rule, essentially declaring jihad or “holy war” on the existing Egyptian government. To Muhammed, anyone considered a foreigner in the area was labeled “a Turk” and an enemy to his regime. This labeling was accurate because a large majority of inhabitants of Sudan were not Sudanese, but Turkish.
It is understandable, then, that the Turkish general wanted to move out of the country. In 1882, fearing that Muhammed would take his city of El Obeid, he packed up his camels and ten of his best slaves and headed for Khartoum, about 263 miles north. Bakhita was among the number. The journey was long and the conditions were filthy, but in spite of the inconvenience, Bakhita enjoyed the novelty of riding on a camel! “After a number of days traveling we stopped at a hotel in Khartoum. There [the general] sent out word that he had slaves for sale.” An Italian consul by the name of Calisto Legnani made arrangements with the general and bought Bakhita. “This time I was truly lucky, because the new master was very good and was very fond of me. My job was to help the chambermaid with housework. I did not get scolded, punished, or beaten; it did not seem true that one could enjoy such peace and tranquility.”
After a couple years, towards the end of 1884, the climax of the Mahdist revolution was taking place. Besides wanting to get away from the tumult, Legnani needed to return to Italy because of the collapse of his commercial business. Bakhita remembered, “… When I heard the name of Italy, of whose beauty and charm I knew nothing, my heart was filled with the most fervent desire–the desire to follow my master. Because he liked me so much, I dared to ask him to bring me to Italy with him. I insisted so much that in the end he consented. I knew later that it was God Who wanted this to happen. I can still taste the joy I felt at the time.” So began the journey to Italy.
“If I had remained there, I certainly would have been stolen, and then what would have happened to me? How grateful to the Lord I was for having saved me yet again.”
The little group of travelers consisted of Legnani and his friend, Augusto Michieli, Bakhita, and a little African boy whom Legnani had rescued earlier. They made the trek of 480 miles to the Red Sea port of Suakin. They left Khartoum just in time! A month after their departure the Mahdist revolutionaries took the city of Khartoum and wreaked havoc and destruction, carrying away all slaves with them. “If I had remained there, I certainly would have been stolen, and then what would have happened to me? How grateful to the Lord I was for having saved me yet again.”
Sailing across oceans was a completely new experience for Bakhita. Everything was foreign to her–the different sights, beautiful ocean sunsets, the cool, salty air. She was leaving her native land for the first time. When the ship landed in Genoa, Italy, Bakhita and the little boy were amazed at the busy port. To see an African boy and girl in Italy was not at all common, and they attracted the attention of many people who wanted to look at them. According to Bakhita, the group “found lodging in a hotel owned by a man whom the consul’s friend knew very well and who had asked him the favor of acquiring [an African] boy for him. As a result, the one who had been my travel companion was soon given to this hotel owner.”
“The wife of the consul’s friend, who had come to meet him, saw us [Africans] and wanted one. She asked her husband why he had not brought one back for her and her daughter. The consul, to please his friend and his wife, gave me to them as a gift.” Bakhita would never again see Legnani, the nice consul who had rescued her from the tyranny of slavery.
The Michelis
Augusto and Turina Michieli lived in the beautiful area of Zianigo, Mirano near Venice. They had three children, one of whom died as an infant. The last was a little girl Alice Alessandrina, who was called by the nickname of “Mimmina.” The Michielis had brought Bakhita to be her nanny. When they arrived home with her, the whole neighborhood came out with excited curiosity. The children of the neighborhood were very afraid of Bakhita at first. They had never seen an African before–her skin was so dark! Only the bravest among the children came up to touch her to see if her blackness would rub off on them! The news of the new nanny in the Michieli household spread very quickly among the townspeople, even to Signor Illuminato Checchini.
Checchini was a very loving and deeply spiritual man who took his Faith seriously. He grew up the son of a cartwright in Salzano, Italy. He had been the organist at the church where Father Giuseppe Sarto was parish priest. Little did Checchini suspect that the parish priest with whom he shared many ideas, and even played cards, would one day become the great Pope Saint Pius X. Lifelong connections would be made between the two, even in the case of Bakhita. Considered a trustful and good family friend, Checchini would take care of the Michieli estate when they were traveling on business. He was one of the first people to come to the house to inquire formally about “Moretta” (the black girl). Checchini was overjoyed at seeing Bakhita. He saw her as a poor soul that God had brought to them. Although she currently belonged to the Michielis, Checchini wanted Bakhita to meet his own family, and eventually to become, not a slave in his household, but a member of his family, and of the Church.
Time went on and people became used to seeing Bakhita going about her chores. Although communication was hard at first because of the language barriers, Bakhita managed to pick up the Venetian dialect. Although her mastery of the language was far from perfect, people could understand the happiness by her soft and sincere smile, or observe the distant pain of past sorrow in her dark eyes.
In her role as nanny, Bakhita enjoyed taking care of Mimmina. “This little one liked me a great deal, and I of course reciprocated with equal affection.” She would take her for walks and would frequently stop in to visit the Checchinis, who always received her graciously. It was at this household that Bakhita was introduced to the Faith. Up to this time she had practiced no religion, but her reason and natural goodness pointed her in the right direction toward truth. “I knew nothing of idols. I just looked at the stars, so beautiful as they were, and the bright sun, and I kept repeating: I love the Person who made all these wonderful things.” Checchini was anxious for this soul to find the love and peace of Christ, and he knew he had to do something to help her become a child of God in Baptism. It was not an easy task. Augusto Michieli and his wife were not religious people by any means. Turina in particular was against Catholicism, so the mere mention of it, or anything related to it, was strictly forbidden. Bakhita was not even allowed to go into the village church. In spite of this obstacle, Checchini was able to show her some basic prayers and persuade the Michielis’ housemaid to secretly help Bakhita learn them. “Without knowing God, without knowing what the words meant, I had a good feeling in my soul when I repeated them. I did not only repeat them morning and evening with Mimmina in her room, but also several times during the day and even on the streets and in the gardens where I went with the child.”
One day, around the year 1887, Turina received a message from her husband, Augusto, who was presently in Suakin, Africa. He ordered her, Mimmina and Bakhita to leave immediately and return to Africa to help him run the hotel he owned.
Bakhita had been in Italy for three years now, and she was now almost twenty years old. She had become accustomed to daily life in Italy and had developed a friendship with the Checchini family. The thought of leaving Italy was heartbreaking; for it was there that she finally felt security and stability which was nonexistent previous to her arrival. Following her master’s command, she and the family departed for Africa.
In Suakin her job at the hotel, aside from minding Mimmina, was that of barmaid. It was often undesirable, due to the rough clientele who would frequent the bar. However, Bakhita, always hoping to return again to Italy, made the most of her time there. Her simple manner and natural goodness were visible to everyone who met her. “Nobody ever dared not to show me respect.” She recounts, “I stayed there for about nine months, after which the master decided that the whole family was going to settle there. His wife, however, would return to Italy in order to sell their property and pack up furniture.” Not everything went as planned. Turina wanted Mimmina to come with her, but when the child showed so vehemently that she could not leave her nanny, Turina was forced to bring Bakhita with her. “In my heart, I therefore bid an eternal farewell to Africa. A voice inside me told me that I would never see my continent again.”
The Institute of Catechumens
Not long after their return to Italy in 1888, Turina sold their estate. She was going to temporarily stay with her husband in Suakin and come back to Italy to close up everything before a final move to Africa. However, fearing that the two trips would be too hard on little Mimmina, Turina looked for alternative places for Bakhita and the girl to stay in the meantime. Checchini had the perfect solution. He would make arrangements for them to stay at the Institute of Catechumens in nearby Venice. The Institute was originally opened in 1557, for the purpose of accommodating the overwhelming number of converts seeking instruction in the Faith. In 1848, the Institute was turned over to the order of Canossian Sisters, founded by Saint Magdalene of Canossa. They ran a school for the poor and offered catechesis for anyone who wanted it.
Although the Michielis trusted Checchini’s advice, Turina was uncomfortable because that they would be staying at a religious institution. He would have to wait for an answer. “Mr. Illuminato [Checchini] was so concerned that I should be admitted to the Institute of Catechumens that he gave his written word on a stamped document that, in the unlikely event that the lady did not fulfill her obligation [of paying room and board] he would pay for it himself.”
In the meantime Checchini gave Bakhita a crucifix. “As he gave me the crucifix he kissed it with devotion, then explained that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, had died for me. I did not know what a crucifix was, but I was moved by a mysterious power to keep it hidden, out of fear that the lady would take it away. I had never hidden anything before, because I had never been attached to anything. I remember that I looked at it in secret and felt something inside that I could not explain.”
Turina finally consented to their stay with the Sisters. She and the Checchini family brought Bakhita and Mimmina to meet the Sisters. “…We were both received at the house of catechumens. The little girl and I were entrusted to the care of a nun, Maria Fabbretti, who was in charge of catechetical instruction. I am unable to remember without tears how well she took care of me. She wanted to know if I desired to become a Christian, and sensing that I did and that I had come there with that intention, she was overjoyed.” Bakhita was now considered a catechumen, a person seeking to become a member of the Church.
Through the help of the Sisters, the prayers which previously she had repeated without knowing their meaning came alive to Bakhita. “So those holy mothers [the Sisters] instructed me with heroic patience and introduced me to that God Who from childhood I had felt in my heart without knowing who He was. I experienced a great desire to see Him and know Him and honor Him.”
This desire increased when she learned of the grace of Baptism. She was not able to grasp the idea of it at first. To become a Child of God seemed like a completely foreign concept to her. After years of slavery, of being subject to horrific torments and cruel masters, how was it that God, the most loving Master, could possibly want her, a poor slave, as His child? So she thought. With the kindly reassurance of her Sisters, she would recite in awe the words of the Our Father over and over again, slowly realizing the wondrous miracle that was taking place in her soul.
The Confrontation
About nine months elapsed in this state of peace and instruction. God, Who tests the strength of a heart’s devotion like gold in the furnace, now sent Bakhita a trial which would change her life forever. At the end of November, 1889, Turina Michieli returned from Africa, having finished selling of their property. Then she came to the Institute to pick up Bakhita and Mimmina to take them permanently to the hotel in Suakin. Bakhita, used to this new life at the convent and full of hope and the love of God, could not bear to be separated from the place of her newlyfound Faith. When Turina arrived she met with unexpected defiance from a very decided young woman. “‘No, I will not leave the house of the Lord. It would be my ruin.’ I refused to go back to Africa with her because I was not yet well instructed for Baptism. I also thought that, even if I had been baptized already, it would not have been equally possible to profess my new religion and that therefore it was better for me to stay with the Sisters.”
"No, I will not leave the house of the Lord. It would be my ruin."
“The lady flew into a rage, accusing me of being ungrateful in making her go back alone after she had done so much for me, but I remained firm in my thinking. She gave me one reason after another, but I would not bend to any of them. And yet it hurt to see her so disgusted with me, for I truly loved her. It was the Lord who filled me with such firmness because He wanted to make me all His. O goodness! The next day she returned in the company of another lady, and she tried to change my mind again with the harshest threats, but to no avail. They went away greatly vexed.”
A series of meetings were to follow this incident. The superior of the Order brought the matter to the Patriarch of Venice, who then consulted with the king’s attorney general. The lawyer confirmed that Turina no longer had ownership of Bakhita due to a law which abolished the bondage of any slave who set foot onto Italian soil. “I was in fact quite free. Lady Turina also went to the attorney general of the king, thinking that she could prevail upon him to agree with her, but she received the same response.”
“On the third day, she returned to the Institute again, accompanied by the same lady and by her brother-in-law, a military officer. Others were present as well, even His Eminence, the Patriarch Domenico Agostini, the president of the Congregation of Charity, the superior of the Institute, and some of the Sisters of the Catechumenate. The patriarch spoke first. A long discussion followed, which ended in my favor. Weeping with rage and sorrow, Lady Turina took her little girl, who could not bear to be separated from me and who tried to make me go with her. I was so upset that I was unable to speak a word. I left crying and withdrew, happy that I had not given in.”
Child of God and Bride of Christ
The new year brought great joy to Bakhita. Sister Maria Fabretti relates that Bakhita’s “preparation for Baptism was lived completely in the presence of God. She was happy above all else to be considered worthy of becoming a child of God. When I asked her whether she wanted to know the Lord, she responded ‘Yes!’ I was struck by the tremendous joy that was inside of that Yes.” On January 9, surrounded by her Sisters, the Checchini family, Cardinal Agostini, and a number of noble families of the area, Bakhita “received, with a joy only angels could describe, holy Baptism. I took the names Giuseppina, Margherita, and Fortunata [Italian for Lucky]. On the same day I received confirmation and Communion. Oh, what an unforgettable day!”
The custom for the newly baptized was to spend another year of formation at the Catechumenate. Once this year passed, Bakhita begged for another. Although the Checchinis had frequently welcomed her to become part of their family, she started to experience an inexpressible feeling, that of a vocation to the religious life. “I did not know how to explain myself. I felt unworthy. I was convinced that since I was of the Black race, I would disfigure the congregation and I would not be accepted.”
Far from rejecting her, the Sisters were overjoyed at her petition, and the Mother Superior even stated that she would “clothe me with the holy habit and, when the time came, receive my profession of vows.”
Her time of novitiate started on December 7, 1893. From the very start her fellow novices noticed her exemplary ways, her great devotedness and willingness to help. About a year and a half passed by; and on the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, 1895, Bakhita received the habit of the Canossians. As she began this new chapter in her life she, according to Saint Paul, put on the new man, who according to God is created in justice and holiness of truth.
Before profession of vows, it was customary for those who desired to become Sisters to go through a special time of questioning. This was to ensure that the aspirant’s motives were pure, and that she was prepared to accept the duties in becoming a Bride of Christ. Usually a priest or Church official would conduct the meeting. In the case of Bakhita, her questioner was none other than Giuseppe Sarto, presently Patriarch of Venice. There are no records of words exchanged by the two saints during this meeting, but on leaving, Sarto told her to “Make your sacred vows without fear. Jesus wants you; Jesus loves you. Always love him and serve him in this way.”
Bakhita did so. On the beautiful Feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 8, 1896, Bakhita made her profession of vows. The poor slave whose sorrowful history had humbled her unceasingly, now was exalted to the greatest dignity for a woman on earth. She had answered the call of her Beloved Paron (Venetian for Master) when He said to her soul, Arise, make haste my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come! (Cant. 2:10)
Life as a religious
The story that follows over the next fifty-one years of her religious life, although not as a d v e n t u r o u s or exciting as her journey from slavery, reveals Bakhita’s beautiful virtue of perseverance. The charm of the novitiate, the newness of community life or the fervor of her first years in religion never diminished as years went by. The custom of the Order was that the Sisters in the community were addressed as “Mother” instead of “Sister,” and Bakhita soon became known as Mother Moretta, taken from the nickname she received when she arrived in Italy. Her tasks at the convent in Venice consisted in sewing, embroidering, and making glass beaded crafts to sell to support the community. Since the Institute was also an orphanage for young girls, Bakhita was often caring for and teaching them. Her life with Christ grew deeper daily, and she made swift progress in His love.
"Only those who know how much Mother Moretta loved Mother Fabretti whom she considered to be almost a mother to her"
Saint Ignatius of Loyola once said,“If God causes you to suffer much, it is a sign that He has great designs for you, and that He certainly intends to make you a saint.” The new suffering that would come very quickly into Bakhita’s new life would be that of detachment from those Sisters and the place to which she had become attached. One day in 1902, Bakhita received word from her superior that she was to be transferred to another convent in Schio, s i x t y – t w o miles away. A Sister who was working with Bakhita at that time r e m e m b e r s , “Only those who know how much Mother Moretta loved Mother Fabretti whom she considered to be almost a mother to her, and how much she adored the cozy nest of the Catechumens’ Institute where she spent such heavenly days, only they can understand how she suffered at the painful news. Yet, she returned quietly to work, letting nothing of her inner sacrifice show.”
Bakhita arrived at the convent in Schio. It was definitely a time for adjustment, as the Sisters, like many Italians, had never seen a girl from Africa before. Bakhita, rather than being of- fended, was highly amused at the initial fear of some of the Sisters. She would “break the ice” and ease this fright with her unique sense of humor and witty remarks. The Sisters soon came to love her sweet personality and appreciated her jokes and laughter.
Cook and Sacristan
Bakhita’s first assignment at the new convent was to help in the kitchen. This consisted of preparing meals for the Sisters and those in the infirmary. She always worked with great charity, especially toward those who needed special attention, even when under stress or time constraints. One Sister remembers, “We were amazed and moved by her ministrations, her punctuality and dexterity in preparing whatever was necessary, and her gift of anticipating people’s needs, something she did without any fuss.”
Aside from cooking for the Sisters, Bakhita also made the meals for the orphans and students. The children at first were afraid of her, but when they saw her happy smile, they immediately were drawn by her goodness and simplicity. They loved to listen to the stories she had to tell, or to be consoled by her when they would cry. Sister Anna recounted, “When she would bring food to the nursery school, as soon as the children caught sight of her, they would cling to her habit and would not let go. There were five or six who absolutely refused to eat unless Mother Bakhita spoon-fed them. Oh, how they loved her!” Years later, one of the girls Bakhita took care of remembered that “her fare was so well arranged on the plates and so clean that even the most finicky eaters were won over. In our simple, littlegirl way, on feast days we would send our empty plates back to the kitchen with some little holy card for the Little Brown Mother as a sign of our affection and gratitude.”
Bakhita served as head cook for a number of years, and whether it was over the fire or the oven, or amidst the pots and pans, “by the way she behaved, even in the kitchen, she seemed to be in church,” a fellow Sister said. In whatever job she found herself assigned, she would reply with, “Whatever Paron [Jesus, Master] wants.”
In addition to her other duties, Bakhita was also assigned to be the sacristan. She loved being in the presence of Our Lord while cleaning and dusting the chapel or ironing the sacred linens. It was her special joy to make sure the chapel was well decorated and beautiful for Holy Mass. One of the boys who was an altar server at the time recalls, “I lived across the street from the convent, and Mother Bakhita, who was the sacristan, often asked me to help her on various liturgical occasions. I was always struck by the way she handled the religious articles with such care, a sign of her deep faith and reverence for sacred things. It seemed as though her hands skimmed ever so reverently over the white linens.”
Convent Military Hospital
During the years of 1915–1918 Bakhita’s work changed from her normal routine of serving Sisters, students, and orphans, and working in the sacristy. The First World War was in full force, and the town of Schio was designated a base for military operations. In a rather unusual decision, part of the Sister’s convent was turned into a military hospital for wounded soldiers. Bakhita, aside from preparing food for the soldiers, would work alongside the nurses providing any care she could. Since it was uncommon in North Italy to see an African, Mother Genoveffa recalls, “It was not a rare sight to have officers and soldiers standing around the Little Brown Mother, all wanting to hear her story. Bakhita, equipped with Mother Superior’s permission, and with a simplicity that was all her own, narrated in her ungrammatical language the adventures and facts that she always attributed to the Good God, Who guided her with a special love to become His spouse. Who paid attention to her grammatical mistakes? Who laughed? Nobody. All of them were filled with admiration and compassion for that innocent one who had suffered so much and who appeared in their eyes to be an extraordinary being.”
Bakhita’s service among the soldiers did not stop at just storytelling. She would tell them about God and the truths of the Faith in an effort to help them spiritually. However, she did not tolerate bad talk or foul language! “And the reprimands she would give if she heard someone cursing? It did not matter,” said Mother Genoveffa, “if it came out of the mouth of a simple foot soldier or an officer, she would give them a warning and then make a point of exhorting and enlightening them about eternal truths until the guilty party promised to make amends
and wanted to regain God’s grace.”
With the same care and attention of her other duties, Bakhita would visit and console the soldiers, or try to alleviate their pain any way that she could. Many of the soldiers remembered her kindnesses toward them and would keep in contact years after.
Portress
In 1922, after overcoming a bad case of pneumonia, during which she almost died, Bakhita was assigned to the less stressful and strenuous task of portress. Resigning herself to whatever Paron wanted, she put her whole heart and soul into her new position. It was her responsibility now to welcome people, representing the Community to all those who knocked at its door, answering with Christlike charity and generosity.
Just like at the Institute however, it took a while for people to get used to her. Visitors, school children, and even delivery men would be surprised to find an African sister at the door, and at times would run away terrified or screaming in fright. After overcoming their initial fear, they soon found that their “Moretta” was one of the sweetest souls who had the kindest heart and the warmest smile. Bakhita was very careful and prudent in her job, and she always made sure that anyone who visited, even if just for a short time, left inspired and happy. She would give what advice she could, with no fear of giving charitable corrections to visitors, if necessary, especially with regard to modesty.
In everything she did she was obedient to her superiors, kind to her fellow Sisters, and she was never resentful even when scolded or provoked. One might call it almost superhuman, or worthy of envy, the fact that she had very few visible faults, if any. Yet she had a human heart which felt the sting of a hurtful remark or a misunderstanding. Though docile and calm by nature, Bakhita was not immune to Saint Josephine Bakhita 17 temptations and weaknesses. She had her share of spiritual crosses.
“The saints all passed through many temptations and trials to profit by them”
On account of our fallen nature as sons and daughters of Adam, there is within us a natural tendency toward passion and concupiscence.“The saints all passed through many temptations and trials to profit by them,” states the Imitation of Christ, “while those who could not resist became reprobate and fell away. There is no state so holy, no place so secret that temptations and trials will not come.”
One day she was asked by a Sister, “Mother Moretta, do you never feel passions?” “Well, yes, I do feel them. But when nature wants something, I tell it ‘Be good and for the moment be happy with what you’ve got…’ and then I just carry on. Gradually my desires subside, I unite myself to the Lord and Our Lady and I no longer listen to nature.”
Yet another time the Sisters, driven by simple curiosity, would question her, “Don’t you feel anything? You never complain.” Bakhita would say, “I do, I do feel; I’m alive! It’s the dead who can’t feel, but I offer it all up to the Lord.”
It was this prayerful reliance on God that helped her persevere throughout her religious life and live every day as if it were her last on earth.
Tale of Wonder
In 1927, Bakhita made her perpetual vows in Venice. Two years later, Father Francesco Colombo, director of the Canossian Magazine at the time, was making a retreat and happened to notice Bakhita at a distance. Surprised to see an African Sister, he inquired among the other Sisters what her story was. He was thoroughly intrigued and set on fire to spread her story for others to appreciate and show the glory of God. He asked, “Why not reveal a glimpse of this divine goodness? Why not give us, timid and weak followers of the Gospel as we are, an account which might spur us on to generous sacrifice, to a more fervent part in the apostolate for our sanctification and for the spreading of the Kingdom of God: an account which sears the soul as the very facts speak so eloquently?”
So began the idea for a book recounting Bakhita’s life story. The superior general consented to the suggestion, and Ida Zanolini, a lay Canossian and elementary school teacher, accepted the proposal. Ida began writing by gathering what information she could, but she soon realized that there just was not enough to put a book together. So, she asked for an interview with Bakhita.
A person of deep humility, Bakhita did not like being in the spotlight, and if it were not for her superiors, she would not have told her story on her own accord. “Just order me,” was the phrase she used to show her obedience, although she knew the interview would bring back very painful memories.
On November 1, 1930, Ida met Bakhita for the first time. The questioning began and as Ida relates, “I noticed the trouble she had in expressing herself. But more than that, I saw the cost to her of recounting the painfully tragic events of her life. Sometimes her voice was choked by grief, especially when she remembered her loved ones. Sometimes she would tremble as she recalled the horrors of slavery.” For three days the two discussed the events of Bakhita’s life, and even visited places, such as the Institute, where her life as a Catholic began. “I will never forget those hours of grief I underwent as I listened to what had happened to her…but my most vivid impression will always be that of being in the company of an exceptional soul, of a saint.” After this brief period of interview, Ida Zanolini began to piece together and publish her work in installments for the Canossian Magazine. By 1931, she had published everything in a book titled Storia Meravigliosa [Tale of Wonder]. The book practically became a best-seller! People who read Bakhita’s story came from all over Italy to see her and talk with her.
Once again Bakhita wanted to hide herself from any attention, but she received these visitors with humble Christian charity, prompted by her superiors to show the goodness of God. She would say jokingly, “Here I am; I’m a rare beast!…if they knew me well though, they would not take even a step to come and see me.”
Bakhita understood this cross to be the will of God; she considered it to be her little mission at the convent. Little did she know that her little mission was to become much bigger, reaching far beyond the confines of her convent.
Mission Years
In 1933, Bakhita’s superiors, knowing that she had a strong, virtuous and truly humble character, did not hesitate to ask the greatest sacrifice of her. At the age of sixty-four, Bakhita was asked to promote the Canossian missions by traveling all over Italy to tell her story of grace to the other Canossian houses, parishes, churches, and audiences. Ida Zanolini recounts, “When they asked her if she was prepared to accept this job she gave her usual reply, ‘Whatever Paron wants.’ This time her voice quivered and her cheeks were wet with tears, but she smiled.”
Once the news of Bakhita’s involvement in the missions spread, people would flock to see and hear her, sometimes in the thousands. People from varied stations in life including priests and high ranking prelates, officials, teachers and students, families and children, all wanted to make some connection with so special a soul.
Bakhita was always accompanied by another missionary Sister, Mother Leopolda Benetti, who had previously worked in the Chinese missions for thirty-five years. “My task was to help her when she could not express herself properly.” It was at the end of Mother Benetti’s talks on the missions that she would invite Bakhita to share some thoughts with the audiences. “She would thank everyone, greeting them cordially and assuring them of a permanent place in her prayers, adding that she looked forward to seeing them all again in Paradise.”
Bakhita not only told her story, but would encourage people to pray for missions across the globe especially in Africa. “Oh, if only all the Africans could enjoy the graces that I have had! In Africa people suffer greatly and they do not know that there is a God who can compensate for it all! I, too, suffered greatly without thinking there could be a better life. How different things were when I was able to understand about the spiritual life!”
Throughout her years on mission, Bakhita would greet everyone kindly with a smile, speaking with them, answering their questions, or signing their copy of Tale of Wonder. Her down-toearth, simple manner, sense of humor, and humble spirituality affected all. Even men with the hardest hearts would leave crying after speaking with her. She would end all her talks by encouraging her listeners to “Be good, love the Lord, pray for non-believers. Know what a great grace it is to know God!”
Sharply contrasting the large portion of today’s society, which seeks to be in the spotlight, famous for some talent, discovery, amazing work or story, is the spirit of humility found in Bakhita’s life. In obedience she undertook the mission, but the burden which the overwhelming popularity caused her soul was hidden from the eyes of her audiences. Often between missions Bakhita would be in tears; some Sisters thought she was ill, but soon learned what a cross it was for her, and how hard a time she had trying to retain her spiritual life and converse with God.
Many people will think that I enjoyed going here and there,” Bakhita related, “but in fact it was a martyrdom for me. Wherever I went they loved me, but almost too much; but I feared for my spirit, because being in the midst of all those people was a distraction. If it were a saint that they could have seen, it would have been different. But me, a poor mite, what could I do?”
Although she keenly felt the weight of her present assignment, she saw every situation with clarity and faith, and met it with cheerfulness. When people would remark at her saying, “Poor little thing, poor little thing,” Bakhita would counter it, “But I am not a poor little thing, because I belong to the Paron and I am in His house. Anyone who is not with the Lord, they are the poor ones.” It was to these people that she especially wanted to bring the Faith.
Years after Mission
Following her four years of missionary work, Bakhita resumed her previous task of portress, now at the Canossian Missionary Novitiate house at Vimercate, a city in northern Italy. In the quiet of the convent she lived as a model religious, carefully observing her vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Her superiors and Sisters would often remark on her good example and charity, and other sisters would come to her for advice, some of which proved to be prophetic in a number of circumstances. This was especially true after her return to the Schio convent in 1939. During World War II, people would come to her asking her prayers for safety from attacks and air raids. More than once she assured them that their town would not be bombed, and it proved true.
“What she teaches us is that the secret of happiness lies in duty quietly done, that peace is found in forgiveness, and that the only things worthy of our efforts are those that are just, great, and good.”
In 1943, Bakhita, and the whole town with her, had the joy of celebrating her Fiftieth Anniversary of Profession. A local news paper which covered the event, reminded its readers of Bakhita’s hidden, but heroic, life, “What she teaches us is that the secret of happiness lies in duty quietly done, that peace is found in forgiveness, and that the only things worthy of our efforts are those that are just, great, and good.” Her life resembled that of Saint Therese in doing small things extraordinarily well.
As she aged, Bakhita became increasingly weaker and more fragile. Soon she was unable to do much around the convent. She would say, “Now my mission is this: to help everyone by way of prayer.” She had great confidence in Jesus, Mary, the saints, and especially her Guardian Angel, who appeared to her once while she was sacristan, and whom she recognized as the one who had kept her safe from wild animals while escaping the slave traders.
When she began to lose her eyesight, Bakhita had to depend more on other Sisters. Circulatory and respiratory problems caused her much pain, and she soon was confined to bed most of the time. When asked if she was suffering she replied, “Oh, not much! Pray that God will send me the grace to put up patiently with my suffering. You have to be crafty in this world and try to get as many graces as you can!”
Whenever she was up, she had such a hard time walking that the Sisters would wheel her to the chapel where she would spend many hours praying, especially the Rosary. Though people already regarded her as a saint, she never presumed her own holiness. “It’s too easy just to put the dead in Paradise; I’m not so sure…Who knows where He [the Lord] will put me? Pray that He will show me His infinite mercy.
Into Eternity
In December of 1946, Bakhita suffered a severe bout of pneumonia. This time the Sisters did not think she would live, but having received the Sacraments for the Dying, she suffered until February.
Bakhita, ever aware of her approaching death, prepared herself to meet her Master. Sister Fabruzzo recalled, “She looked death in the face with a cheerful soul. At the very end she also said that death carries us to God. To those of us who said rather that God’s judgment is frightening, she replied, ‘Do now what you would wish to do at that moment: judgment is what we do now.’”
Like Our Lord on the Cross, Bakhita, even as she was dying, practiced beautiful detachment. To the superior she said, “Mother, I have nothing except my books: the Rule, the choir manual and the life of Jesus. I do not use them because I can hardly see any more, and I have given up all my other little things. The only thing I have left is my Rosary and the Crucifix; if you want, Mother, you can strip me of these, too.”
On the morning of February 8, 1947 although she was in a great deal of pain and discomfort, Bakhita, alert to the end, joyfully received Holy Viaticum, the Last Sacraments and renewed her vows. Sister Antonietta stated that Bakhita had “a special devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary….when she was near death she told me, ‘I am fortunate, and the Lord loves me, for I entered the congregation on the feast of the Immaculate Conception, and it is only a few days now until the feast of our Lady’s apparition at Lourdes.”
Another Sister who was present when she was dying relates, “She kept making ejaculatory prayer, made the brief renewal of her vows, and when I let her know it was Saturday, the day dedicated to Our Lady, Mother Giuseppina exclaimed joyfully, ‘Oh, how happy I am…Our Lady…Our Lady…!’ These were her last intelligible words.”
After a life of service to God and others, filled with suffering and joy alike, Bakita on the evening of February 8th, 1947, at the age of seventyeight, breathed her last and slipped quietly into eternity and the blessed vision of her Paron.
Following her death there were many miracles and manifestations of graces received. People came from all over to venerate “their saint,” and to beg her intercession. When her cause was opened, many accounts came in from people who lived with her, knew or met her. On May 17,1992, Bakhita was beatified by Pope John Paul II. Only eight years later she was raised to the honor of the altars and canonized on October 1, 2000. Her feastday is celebrated on February 8.
What mystery and wisdom there was in God’s plan of bringing a single soul from the darkness of slavery to shine as a light in a spiritually dark world. She was a soul who very well could have risen up in revolt, spending her life bemoaning her mistreatment, hating those who hurt her and inciting similar feelings in the hearts of others, but she did not. When asked what she would do if she ever met the slave traders again she replied with deep gratitude, “I’d kneel down and kiss their hands because if it was not for them I would not be a Christian now or a religious.”
God became the true Master of her soul and in Him she found the greatest freedom.
The story of Bakhita reveals how each soul is infinitely loved by God, and how even the smallest things, if done for Him, are of the greatest worth and how gratitude and selflessness lead to happiness beyond worldly pleasure. As in her lifetime, she still inspires souls to pray and work not only for the world’s freedom from physical slavery and violence, but from the slavery of sin and attachment to it. Her life continues to be a mission and a message of hope, not only to her beloved African people, but to anyone who seeks the freedom, peace, and forgiveness which only Christ can give and inspire.
Saint Josephine Bakhita, pray for us!
Saint Josephine
Bakhita, pray for us!