On October 27th, it was a quiet Monday evening in the WhatsApp group of Gihon Hebrew Synagogue. A post notification popped up, with the new week’s parashah appearing on the top of the screen: Parashah Lech Lecha (Genesis 12:1-17:27). Haftara (Isaiah 40:27-41:16)

Beneath it, a list of aliyot unfolds—rishon, sheni, shilishi, revi’i, chamishi: some of the lines bearing a phone number, a name, a contributed amount, and a small green checkmark, showing payment received. Within minutes, the chat lights up as the synagogue members, in response to the call to indicate interest for any of the aliyot, begin to bid and claim their Torah honors for the coming Shabbat. Already, one Yosef had chosen petach, while the Hagbaáh spot was claimed by Tehilah bat Yoshyah. Another woman bids for Gelilat, indicating a male who had volunteered to stand in for her.

From my base in faraway East Africa, I bid interest for the 4th aliya (rivi’í) and confirmed it by sending a screenshot of payment successfully made. By Friday morning, every slot has been taken and recorded. What once required in-person coordination at the synagogue now happens seamlessly through mobile messages. A sacred practice of selecting who will ascend to the Torah has now been upgraded into the language of modern connectivity in this digital age, allowing members to participate in the Torah service irrespective of their present location.

From its earliest days, Gihon has called itself a synagogue of the people. Founded in the 1990s, it is one of the oldest mainstream Jewish congregations in the country. In contrast to numerous Nigerian synagogues that are established and headed by an individual or groups, Gihon has flourished thanks to the consistent generosity of those who pray within its walls.

Basically, the offerings realized by being called to the Torah—and the tzadaka, as well as other charity contributions—have long sustained the community. These contributions power the synagogue’s daily life: keeping the lights on, maintaining the sanctuary, and supporting Shabbat and festival observances such as meals, challah, religious materials, and symbolic food. Members are aware that each contribution, however small, helps sustain the house of prayer they call home.

For several years, Gihon’s stability and reputation have drawn wider recognition. And due to its long-standing presence in Nigeria’s capital, it has not only been visited by many foreigners but also attracted support from Jewish and Israeli organizations in the country. Through this network of goodwill, the synagogue has been able to undertake major community projects—including its kiddush hall, guest room, and kitchen space. Its perimeter fencing and water borehole were also built through donations from a well-wisher through the Chabad centre in Abuja and community support.

Furthermore, it’s notable that inclusivity has always defined the community. Women, too, have long participated in the aliyah allotment. Under Orthodox custom, a male congregant ascends the bimah on their behalf, yet the woman’s Hebrew name is pronounced during the blessing, ensuring her spiritual presence is honored. Hence, clearly, the WhatsApp Aliyah system that Gihon now employs simply continues this tradition of openness and shared responsibility—preserving the synagogue’s communal spirit while it gracefully transitioned into the digital age.

Prior to leveraging the WhatsApp mobile application to transform the ritual, aliyot bidding at Gihon was scheduled for moments before the Torah service. As the scroll rested on the bimah, congregants would raise pledges aloud in a lively, if sometimes hurried, exchange. Others, knowing they might be absent, reach out to the gabbai a day or two earlier to reserve a slot.

It was an authentic, spirited procedure, but also a bit messy, especially when some members were absent or showed up late to the synagogue. The system favored those physically present, left little room for certainty in filling up the list of aliyot on time, and created occasional overlap in pledges. The record keeping was manual, sometimes plagued by unforeseeable delays in fulfilling payment, and for members abroad, impossible.

However, the limitations of an on-site system became clear as Gihon’s network of friends and families expanded across the country and as the recent astronomical rise in inflation due to the removal of subsidies in petroleum caused transportation expenses to the shul to soar beyond the reach of a few. The desire to preserve transparency, ensure order and flexibility, enable instant payment to secure aliyot slots, and promote inclusion gave rise to an idea that would transform not just logistics but the very meaning of connection.

The WhatsApp Model, a repetitive weekly protocol, usually resets after each Shabbat. Once the candles have been extinguished and the community rested, the gabbai, beginning on Tuesday morning, posts a message announcing the week’s parashah. The message lists the Torah portion, the haftarah, and all aliyah categories, including other synagogue honors such as petach, hagba’ah, gelilat, and tzdaka.

Members reply directly in the group chat or message the coordinator privately to claim their aliyah. Payments are made through bank transfer to the synagogue bank account indicated, and receipts are shared as screenshots. The post is then updated with verification marks indicating confirmed pledges. A simple reminder reads: It’s important to note that aliyot isn’t given on pledge but payment; payment confers the allotment.

Without doubt, the process is fully transparent: everyone can see which aliya has been taken, by whom, and at what bidding entry level. Now, just imagine how a few minutes of online interaction replace the once-hectic and mostly uncertain allotment moments that occurred before Torah reading. More importantly, the new system opens the doors of the bimah to members far beyond Abuja.

“Even though I have recently relocated to Port Harcourt (Southern Nigeria, about 690 km from Abuja), I am still a member of Gihon in my innermost heart, as always. I will continue to support the running of the synagogue, which has been important to me. It has helped shape my spiritual life, serving as both a place of worship and a centre for learning. I understand that this is one of the ways I can contribute to getting things up and running; I will continue to participate in bidding for aliyot from a distance and sending in my payment and donations.”

Just like ima Keleyah in Port Harcourt, I too, for the first time, participated from a distance outside Nigeria. I was in Uganda. That week, I saw the message for Parashat Lech Lecha, sent in the Gihon WhatsApp group. Without hesitation, I placed my bid for an aliyah, made the payment through mobile transfer, and sent my receipt. When Shabbat arrived, a brother in the congregation ascended the bimah in my stead. The reader called my Hebrew name in the blessing, and the congregation responded, “Amen.”

Though I was thousands of miles away, I felt the warmth of belonging. The words of Torah read in Abuja reached me across borders; my small contribution kept the synagogue alive while keeping my spirit anchored.

Since then, I have also joined from Kenya, getting the Aliya Rishon spot for the week of Parashat Vayeitzei. Each time, the experience reaffirms that distance cannot diminish devotion. This digital bridge allows me to stay connected to the vibrant Gihon community as a friend and well-wisher, actively participating in its ongoing activities back home.

In the WhatsApp bidding system, everyone has a share. Both men and women participate, families make joint pledges, and younger members, accustomed to digital interaction, have taken on a new level of engagement. Every contribution made, however small, supports the synagogue’s daily needs, which comprise fuel for the generator, electricity bills, support for festival meals, as well as bread and wine for kiddush. That shared understanding keeps the flame of collective responsibility burning. The digital chat has effectively become a new courtyard for the synagogue, serving as a typical virtual space where generosity and faith meet, with certainty also guaranteed.

“In the old method, people bid for aliya and are allowed to ascend the bimah without prepayment, in the hope that these pledges would be redeemed later, maybe within the new week. However, there was no mandatory deadline for making these payments. Therefore, the system was flawed to an extent, especially when some unfortunately failed to meet with their payment on time.” This was according to Shlomo Yaakov, a senior chazan, making comparisons between then and now.

From a broader perspective, this is a way of opening the door to a global opportunity. Through this digital system, anyone in the world can now willingly contribute to sustaining the spiritual growth of Gihon Hebrew Synagogue in the capital of Africa’s most populous nation. Whether one lives in South Africa, New York, or Tel Aviv, it takes only a few taps to bid for an aliyah, send the offering, and have one’s name blessed from Gihon’s bimah.

The spiritual connection is real: the Torah blessing spoken in Abuja mentions the name, and the congregation answers “Amen,” linking the giver’s intent with the community’s response. In many large synagogues abroad, obtaining an aliyah can be difficult because of the sheer number of congregants competing for limited honors. At Gihon, the model of this digital procedure guarantees access and an level playing ground, ensuring room for participation to share in the blessing.

For those seeking both a spiritual merit and a tangible way to strengthen African Judaism, this initiative offers a unique path. It doesn’t just democratize a sacred ritual but also decentralizes it and turns it into a channel of global participation.

The transition from ‘brick and mortar’ to an online platform has demonstrated the effectiveness of the WhatsApp model in addressing some of the issues presented by the previous approach. Management can draw inspiration from this, then iterate and expand beyond WhatsApp, perhaps utilizing their synagogue website or a dedicated app that would automate parts of the process. A secured payment gateway with multiple options is paramount, as well as real-time updates or even an AI assistant that can send simple, heartfelt thank-you notes automatically.

Beyond aliyah allotment, the Gihon WhatsApp community has become a digital hub for African Torah life, connecting different WhatsApp groups and creating a network of shared learning and support. The same system that now manages aliyot can also integrate the Gihon Eden Academy (a mini-Hebrew class) and even drive cross-community communication, allowing Jews nationwide and beyond to be part of the system.

Standing now for over 30 years, Gihon has continued to hold the status of being a community-owned house of prayer. Its openness and freedom of expression among members have helped it grow into one of the largest congregations in town. Its devotion is fervent, and even without a physical rabbi in their midst, the love and practice of Judaism are things many have admired and can attest to.

The community is guided by a group of elders and its founding fathers, who recognize the innovative mindset that their youthful generation brings to the table, striving to identify better ways to grow together in strength and purpose. Gihon’s experiment is part of a larger wave reshaping Jewish life on the continent as we see communities turning to digital tools for education, communication, and worship.

Technology, once viewed by some as a threat to tradition, has become its ally. How fascinating to see Gihon stand at the forefront of this digital revolution. Its aliyah system proves that innovation need not dilute faith; it can deepen it, preserving the Jewish heritage while mastering modernity.

The post Aliyah in the Digital Age: The Gihon Hebrew Synagogue Model first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

THIS QUESTION resonates on a profound level, recalling two poignant incidents that underscore a broader, more urgent narrative about identity, aspiration, and the state of Jewish education in Africa, particularly Nigeria.

The first incident took place during a visit by Rabbi Howard Gorin and Jeff Lieberman to Port Harcourt, Rivers State. Gorin is known as one of the first American rabbis to travel deep into Jewish communities, including those in Uganda and Nigeria, while Leiberman is a documentarian. As they engaged with the vibrant Meir Elohim Community, an individual with a zeal but limited knowledge of Judaism introduced himself with a title that carries centuries of reverence: “Rabbi.” It was obvious that there is a lot of difference in opinion. However, it became clear during their interaction that this title had been adopted without grasping its weight, its history, or the depth of commitment it signifies. Leiberman later shared a photograph on Facebook that captured the poignancy of the moment: “Nigeria Rabbi on a bike.” While this story is tinged with humor, this snapshot reveals a startling sobering truth: how the absence of structured Jewish education leaves space for misconceptions, even exploitation, of sacred titles right here in Nigeria!

The second incident speaks of aspiration amid adversity. My mentor, Akeidah Fulcher Eze, took deliberate steps to pave a path for Prince Israel and me in a certain rabbinical institution. We were tasked with articulating, in writing, why we desired to become rabbis. I, as usual, poured my thoughts into that essay, crafting a piece that earned Fulcher’s admiration, even though the application ultimately did not come to fruition. Although this story contrasts sharply with the first, it is proof of the hunger for authentic engagement, a fervent pursuit of spiritual growth, and the painful barriers that exist for African Jews seeking formal rabbinical training.

These narratives shed light on a critical reality: a majority of global Jewish institutions have largely overlooked African Jewish communities. Clearly, the lack of accessible, quality Jewish education has led to a troubling dynamic where the title “Rabbi” risks being diluted while simultaneously extinguishing the dreams of those who genuinely wish to pass through the corridor of rabbinic service. Therefore, this is a call to action—a reminder that a rabbi is not merely a title one assumes but a scholar, a teacher, and a shepherd of their community, dedicated to the service of God and humanity.

In the broader Jewish tradition, a rabbi embodies rigorous study, leadership with morals, and is dedicated to tikkun olam (repairing the world). There is little doubt that partnerships that put education, mentorship, and resources first are important for this goal to come true in Africa. We need institutions willing to see the potential in every seeker, to nurture vocations, and to ensure the title “Rabbi” is honored as a symbol of profound responsibility, not a label taken lightly.

The stories of aspiration and misunderstanding compel us to bridge this gap, to invest in a future where African Jews can pursue their calling with dignity, knowledge, and the full support of the global Jewish family. It’s worrying how Jewish education and resources are in Africa, especially in Nigeria.

The widening gap in Jewish engagement in Africa is undeniably troubling to the extent that many Jewish communities, especially in Sub- Saharan Africa, apart from the Republic of South Africa, feel overlooked by foreign Jewish institutions. The lack of proper education and facilities not only hampers the growth of Judaism on the continent but also fuels misconceptions about the faith’s values. The notion that a rabbi’s title is “a mere title” any person can accord himself reflects a deeper issue of misunderstanding and disconnection, likely exacerbated by limited access to authentic teachings and standard facilities required to train up people to become rabbis.

Yet beyond the internal challenges of education and mentorship lies an equally formidable barrier: access. For many Africans aspiring to rabbinical training, the pathway is narrowed by complex giyur (conversion) standards, lineage considerations, and institutional criteria that—while rooted in the preservation of Jewish law and continuity—can feel exclusionary when applied without contextual sensitivity. These frameworks, though essential to safeguarding tradition, often operate without sufficient mechanisms for outreach or accommodation, reinforcing a perception of Judaism as inaccessible to sincere seekers. The result is a quiet loss: gifted minds and devoted hearts are turned away from yeshivot, depriving the global Jewish community of voices shaped by resilience, diversity, and lived faith.

Compounding this challenge is the often-overlooked role of visa bureaucracy. Recently, a couple of Nigerian Jews who were accepted into yeshivot in Israel—schools that saw their potential as future rabbis and were ready to help them study—had their journeys stopped not because they weren’t qualified, but because of decisions made by the embassy and strict immigration rules. These administrative barriers have quietly extinguished opportunities for future rabbis in a country that has sustained mainstream Jewish practice for over three decades without a single resident rabbi. Such moments expose a painful paradox: communities are encouraged to preserve Judaism, yet pathways to leadership formation remain obstructed. Until we address these systemic barriers with intention and compassion, the dream of nurturing homegrown African rabbis will remain vulnerable, teetering between aspiration and denial.

For over a decade and a half, two individuals from Nigeria’s Igbo Jewish communities have resided in Israel, and they are known to have been ordained as rabbis. Yet beyond their names, there is little information about their formal rabbinic status, congregations, ordination, or institutional affiliations. This prolonged lack of clarity has left a vacuum within Nigerian Jewish life. In response, many communities now turn to rabbis found on the internet for learning and spiritual consultation, while others look inward, conferring the title “rabbi” upon local Torah teachers who provide instructions, motivation, and communal leadership. In the eyes of many congregants, the functional roles appear indistinguishable: teaching Torah, guiding prayer, and offering moral direction. Thus, in the absence of an ordained rabbi, doing what seems necessary becomes normalized. Over time, the title is accepted by the individual, embraced by the community, and gradually sustained—until any capable Torah teacher may be addressed as “rabbi,” and the cycle continues.

A more troubling development has emerged alongside this trend: the reinterpretation of rabbinic authority through the lens of traditional Igbo social structures. In Igbo culture, elders called the Nze or Ndi Nze are highly respected. These titled men are custodians of moral order, interpreters of the laws of the land, and key figures in communal governance, often serving as a check on the authority of the Eze (king). The Nze, viewed as upright and spiritually elevated, have historically played a stabilizing role in Igbo civilization. Drawing from this parallel, some have begun advancing the concept of an “Nze-Rabbi”— a fusion of traditional Igbo leadership and Jewish religious authority.

Under this emerging narrative, an Nze-Rabbi is defined loosely as an elderly man, a synagogue leader, or a Torah teacher with a measure of knowledge and respect within the community. There is no need for yeshiva training or formal ordination; all that is needed is acceptance of the title by most people in the community. While this definition may appear pragmatic on the surface, it represents a fundamental misunderstanding of Judaism’s standards and procedures. In effect, the title of rabbi becomes a cultural adaptation rather than a religious qualification, detached from the rigorous scholarly process that defines rabbinic authority worldwide.

This approach is deeply flawed. It reflects not malice, but ignorance of how Judaism has historically preserved structure, continuity, and accountability. More concerning are the implications. If this logic were extended beyond Igbo communities, other ethnic groups in Nigeria could introduce parallel constructs—Obong-Rabbi, Emir-Rabbi, or similar titles—each shaped by local tradition rather than Jewish law. What begins as an attempt to solve the absence of rabbis would ultimately introduce greater confusion, inconsistency, and fragmentation. It is a classic case of placing a round peg in a square hole—addressing a real problem with a solution that creates even deeper structural challenges.

To really understand who a rabbi is, you have to look at history. The fact remains that the word “rabbi” doesn’t appear in the Tanach (Hebrew Bible). It came about later, during the post-Temple period, when Jewish life changed from sacrificial worship to study, law, and community leadership.

At first, “rabbi” was an honorific title given to learned teachers who showed exceptional mastery of the Torah and moral leadership. As Jewish communities grew and spread out, the need for standardization became increasingly evident. Formal institutions of learning were created, ordination processes were set up, and rabbinic authority became linked to rigorous study, mentorship, and communal accountability. This framework, while evolving, remains the basis of rabbinic legitimacy in the modern Jewish world.

A Glimpse of Hope from Uganda.

While a standardized rabbinic path based on rigorous education and ordination has been accepted by most of the Jewish world for a long time, Uganda offers a compelling example of how this model can be successfully adapted to local realities. Today, Uganda is home to a growing number of indigenous rabbis, many of whom have studied in yeshivot in the United States and Israel and gone on to receive formal ordination. Their travels indicate that a single, traditional campus-based structure doesn’t have to limit dedication to rabbinic training.

In practice, several alternatives, yet credible, pathways have emerged. Rabin Rivbin Asiimwe, currently a rabbinic Abayudaya student, combines structured online learning with periodic travel to Israel for in-person classes and mentorship. In the same way, a rabbinic student, Orah Avraham, in Mukono, central Uganda, is also enrolled in a U.S.-based yeshiva that offers a two-year online curriculum with homework, quizzes, and presentations. After this part is done, students go abroad to finish the rest of their course. These hybrid models maintain academic rigor while accommodating geographic and logistical constraints faced by African Jewish communities.

Uganda has a flourishing rabbinical council composed of ordained rabbis, yeshiva graduates, aspiring and rabbinic students, with representation across different regions of the country. This structure has a promising formation of a strong and credible beit din, capable of overseeing conversions and other communal religious responsibilities within recognized Jewish frameworks. With an increasing number of individuals committed to this path, Uganda is steadily building a sustainable future in which ordained and well-trained rabbis are consistently available to serve their communities.

The impact of this ecosystem extends beyond the present generation. The visibility of multiple rabbis—trained not only in Jewish law but also in leadership, pastoral care, and human relations—naturally inspires younger members of the community. Often, rabbinic families nurture future rabbis, creating continuity and depth within Ugandan Jewish life. Notably, Uganda now has rabbis trained through Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform yeshivot, reflecting a broad and inclusive engagement with global Jewish institutions.

Rabbi Shoshana Nambi of Mbale in Eastern Uganda is perhaps the best example of how well this teaching paradigm works. She went to Hebrew Union College (United States) and recently became the first black woman rabbi in Sub-Saharan Africa. Now she is an assistant rabbi at Congregation Beth Am in Los Angeles. The Union for Reform Judaism ordained her, and her journey is a major success that shows what can happen when African Jewish communities have access to mainstream educational paths. Uganda’s experience is, above all, a narrative of shaping the future through education, discipline, and adherence to globally recognized rabbinic standards.

A Vision for the Future.

In Uganda, as in Nigeria, it is still common for Torah-learned individuals to be affectionately addressed as “rabbi.” This practice is not unique to both countries alone and can be found in Jewish communities elsewhere. However, it is important to recognise the true significance of a Rabbi ( רבי ), which in Hebrew means “my teacher.” Within Jewish tradition, this title carries profound weight. It represents not merely academic accomplishment, but a lifelong responsibility to teach, guide, adjudicate, and uplift others in accordance with Torah values.

The scarcity of formal Jewish educational institutions and rabbinic training resources in Nigeria—and across much of Africa—has inadvertently contributed to misunderstandings about the role and responsibilities of a rabbi. Yet this reality should never serve as justification for lowering established standards. Instead, anyone who aspires to be called a rabbi should be encouraged and supported to pursue recognized and appropriate pathways of study and ordination.

To make such an outcome possible, well-wishers and stakeholders must invest intentionally in yeshivot, structured rabbinical training programs, and sustainable community learning centers. In this regard, working with Jewish schools and organizations abroad can be very helpful in making curricula, mentorship, and accreditation stronger.

Meeting these educational and spiritual needs sends a strong message: Judaism is a living, dynamic faith that values all communities, regardless of where they are. For Nigerian Jews in particular, this vision promises the emergence of a new generation of knowledgeable and passionate leaders—men and women who understand the rabbinic path as a sacred calling to serve others and embody the values of Torah in ways that resonate both locally and globally.

Ultimately, when Jewish education flourishes in Africa, the title “Rabbi” will naturally be revered as a symbol of deep commitment and integrity. In doing so, misconceptions will fade, and a renewed wave of devoted servants of Hashem and humanity will rise— rooted in learning, guided by tradition, and inspired by a shared future.

The post Who Is A Rabbi? first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

[A 10-Day Journey That May Change Everything]

From November 24th to December 3rd, 2025, Jewish communities across Nigeria witnessed one of the most transformative moments in their modern Jewish history—the official ten-day working visit of Mr. Clive Lawton, CEO of the Commonwealth Jewish Council (CJC). For Nigerian Jews, long isolated at the edges of global Jewish consciousness, the visit was far more than a diplomatic tour; it represented long sought recognition and affirmation of a people who have persevered in their religious identity against the odds.

The Commonwealth Jewish Council (CJC) has, since its inception, served as a unifying platform for Jewish communities across Commonwealth nations, encouraging cooperation, advocacy, and shared responsibility at a country-to-country level.

Its core objective focuses on protecting Jewish life and building bridges, as well as applying voices. Through leadership engagement, policy dialogue, and communal exchange, the CJC connects Jewish communities across continents, therefore making sure that even smaller or emerging communities are not excluded from global Jewish conversation.

Mr. Lawton’s journey spanned six states and the Federal Capital Territory, reaching communities starting from Abuja, the nation’s capital, to the heart of Igboland, then to the Southern Regions of Nigeria, and the bustling city of Lagos. Everywhere he went, he met communities who have preserved Judaism for generations—often without global support, mainstream acknowledgment, or institutional validation.

Working closely alongside the CJC during this historic visit was the Judaism Fellowship Initiative (JFI), a Nigerian-based nonprofit organization that is committed to uniting and strengthening Jewish life state by state within the country. While the CJC builds bridges between nations, the JFI focuses on internal cohesion—connecting Nigeria’s geographically dispersed Jewish communities, facilitating unity and cooperation, Judaism development, and communal solidarity and welfare across state lines.

At the conclusion of the visit, reflections from both Mr. Lawton and JFI President Arthur Regis captured the significance of the moment. Standing alongside them was Yeremyahu Eyong, Vice President of JFI and one of the key organizers of the tour, whose tireless coordination ensured its success. Throughout the visit, the Nigerian government provided support, with state security services on standby to ensure the safety of all participants.

During one of the early public speaking events in Port Harcourt, the capital of Rivers State in the southern part of the country, Mr. Clive Lawton made a statement that would become one of the most defining moments of the visit. Reflecting on what he had witnessed so far across several Jewish communities he has covered in his itinerary; he spoke with conviction about the future of Nigerian Jewry on the global stage. “Next year, bezrat Hashem, I will be in Israel,” he said, “and I will ask why they are not looking at the Nigerian Jewish communities—so that they can recognize them.” His words struck a deep chord, sparking a renewed sense of hope and affirmation among those in attendance.

For many Nigerian Jews, the dream of global recognition will not be merely symbolic. It represents the big change that will make the needed difference, the end of decades of resilience in the face of marginalization, misunderstanding, and invisibility. Mr. Lawton’s statement was received as a powerful signal that Nigerian Jewry, which is made up of both the Igbo and non-Igbo tribes, is no longer at the periphery of Jewish consciousness but steadily moving toward rightful inclusion within the broader Jewish world.

The significance of the visit was further echoed by Arthur Regis, the current president of the JFI, who described the moment as one of long-awaited validation. For generations, the Jews residing in Nigeria have preserved Jewish traditions, studied Torah, built synagogues, and raised families in faith—most times without institutional recognition and limited support from abroad. According to Arthur, Clive’s visit affirmed the legitimacy of their identity and made clear that their voices and choice of lived Jewish practices matter. The visit was more than just a tour; it marked the acknowledgment of a narrative that had been longing for attention.

A defining strength of the visit was its inclusive character. The CEO’s engagements extended beyond JFI-affiliated communities, reaching synagogues in Abuja and Ogidi that belong to other Jewish bodies, although they are former members, according to reports. Nonetheless, this broad outreach underscored a commitment to unity rather than organizational boundaries, reflecting the shared heritage and collective aspirations of Nigerian Jews across different regions and affiliations. While it is impossible for a single journey to encompass every community across the federation, the visit stood as a meaningful gesture toward collective recognition, setting up a new frontier.

Taken together, these moments—advocacy for global acknowledgment, affirmation of identity, and an inclusive approach to community engagement—mark Mr. Lawton’s visit as a pivotal chapter in the evolving narrative of Nigerian Jewry. It stands as a reminder that African Jewish voices are rising, being heard, and increasingly recognized as an integral part of the global Jewish story. His visit will not be the first time that he is involved in forging a path largely for Jews living on the African continent. Recently, his involvement in creating the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance (SAJA) opened another chapter in the continent, enabling broader engagements and opportunities that were once hidden.

A Day-by-Day Recap of a Historic Visit

The historic visit officially began on Monday, 24th November, with Abuja playing host as the destination in the first stop. The opening moment took place at Tikvat Israel Synagogue, the venue of the just-concluded activities of Camp Sarah 2025, a third summer of Jewish learning and fun. At the synagogue in Kubwa, the community members gathered for Minchah. Men, women, and children filled the synagogue with anticipation, marking the beginning of a journey that most people felt had been long overdue. By simply praying together, a fact that carried deep meaning, they set a tone of spiritual kinship and mutual respect that would define the days ahead in the trip designed to cover four regions in the federation.

The following day, Tuesday, 25th November, focused on engagement and dialogue. Mr. Lawton met with Rabbi Israel Uzan of Chabad Abuja, where discussions centered on the realities, challenges, and aspirations of local Jews living in Nigeria. Later that evening, the delegation joined the Gihon Hebrew Congregation in Jikwoyi for Maariv. Known for its strong emphasis on Judaism observance and one of the oldest synagogues in the country, the community stood out as a testament to perseverance despite limited resources. The meeting in Gihon was electrifying with speeches from a few individuals. One of the most memorable events was the singing session, where the visitor had the opportunity to learn one of the congregation’s Hebrew song melodies. This beautiful moment of learning and sharing was a display of the vibrancy of the indigenous Jewish people, signalling curiosity about how the others would be as the trip in the North winds down.

Wednesday, 26th November, brought the delegation to Ogidi in Anambra State, a central pillar of the Igbo Jewish identity movement. The visit to the Ogidi synagogue was among the most emotionally charged moments of the tour. Welcomed with warmth and cultural honor, Mr. Lawton participated in Ma’ariv and received traditional Igbo gifts, symbolizing mutual respect and shared heritage. The evening reached a profound peak when the community entrusted their Sefer Torah to him for use, as the synagogue in Port Harcourt that would host the only Shabbat in the trip lacks a Torah scroll.

On Thursday, 27th November, the journey continued through Awka and Aba. In Awka, Mr. Lawton was formally welcomed by JFI executives and introduced to members of the press, Offeing an opportunity for Nigerian Jewry to speak directly to broader audiences. Later, at the Beit Gadol HaKnesset in Aba, the commercial center of Abia State, the Jewish community’s scale and vibrancy were evident. Worshippers overflowed the synagogue compound, reflecting both numerical strength and a deep hunger for connection and recognition. The atmosphere proved beyond doubt the reality that Nigerian Judaism is not marginal but alive and growing. It is also known that the state accounts for the second-largest Jewish population nationwide.

Friday, 28th November, began with Shacharit at Beit Chasaed Knesset in Umuejije in the outskirts of the city center. In attendance for the visit are some of the students of the Ardent Hebrew Academy, a mini-Hebrew class run in the synagogue. After the prayers and moment together, the next destination on the itinerary was one of the most consequential moments of the visit: an official engagement with the Governor of Abia State, Alex Otti. The delegation—comprising the CJC CEO alongside senior JFI leadership—presented key concerns relating to religious inclusion, civic participation, and tolerance. The governor’s response marked a rare, hopeful, and significant moment of acknowledgment, signaling a new level of awareness and openness toward Jewish citizens within the state. For many, this engagement represented a turning point in the visibility of Nigerian Jewry within national discourse.

Shabbat, 29th November, was observed in Port Harcourt at Yesharim Synagogue, which also doubles as the host venue of Camp Sarah’s sister camp. The prayers, melodies, and Torah reading created an atmosphere many described as unforgettable. During Kiddush, reflections on Jewish continuity—particularly the role of women in transmitting tradition—were deeply discussed with congregants. The moment served as a reminder that Judaism survives through observance of Jewish lifestyles, passed lovingly from one generation to the next.

On Sunday, 30th November, a National Jewish Interactive Forum brought together Jews from multiple states, including Edo, Rivers, Akwa Ibom, Delta, Imo, and Abuja. This unprecedented gathering allowed diverse communities to meet, exchange experiences, and affirm their shared identity as one people. It was the first forum of its scale shaped under the influence of the Commonwealth Jewish Council, offering Mr. Lawton a panoramic view of the diversity, resilience, and unity within Nigerian Jewry.

Monday, 1st December, belonged to Uyo. Jewish communities across Akwa Ibom State gathered at the Jewish Central Synagogue to host the CJC delegation. Following a moving Sephardi style Arvit, the introduction got underway, and then there were some moments of discussion that lasted well into the evening. The presentation of tefillin to the community became one of the most powerful moments of the day, as the new synagogue has no single tefillin in its collection. As members stepped forward to receive and honor the gift, emotions overflowed, capturing years of longing, prayer, and devotion finally met with affirmation.

The final stop came on Tuesday, 2nd December, in Lagos at Kehillat Israel Synagogue in Bucknor. Speeches, embraces, and visible emotion filled the space as the visit ended. Without doubt, everyone was aware that a historic event had occurred, one that would be difficult to reverse. The following day, farewells were exchanged at Murtala Muhammed International Airport as Mr. Lawton made his way out of the country; his words made clear that this journey was not an endpoint but the beginning of an enduring relationship between Nigerian Jewry and the wider Jewish world.

In reflecting on the impact of the visit, JFI President Arthur Regis emphasized four lasting outcomes: Nigerian Judaism has entered global Jewish consciousness; Jewish communities across organizational lines experienced unprecedented unity; spiritual life was visibly renewed through Torah, prayer, and pride; and, for the first time, formal acknowledgment at the state level affirmed Jewish presence and belonging. Together, these outcomes mark the visit not only as historic but also as transformative.

Clive Lawton’s Final Message to Nigerian Jewry

“As my visit draws to a close, the message I leave with Nigerian Jewry is unity. Having seen your depth of commitment, faith, and perseverance across communities separated by distance, it is clear that the most important step forward is collective purpose. Nigerian Jews must stand together and speak with one voice—because unity is the foundation upon which recognition, growth, and lasting impact are built.”

In conclusion, many hold the opinion that a new chapter is beginning after the ten-day working visit of the CEO of the CJC, proving to be far more than a ceremonial tour. It became a catalyst on a three-dimensional front—spiritually, socially, and diplomatically. The journey, to an extent, strengthened the relations among Jewish communities, boosted a renewed sense of national unity, and elevated Nigerian Jewry’s visibility within broader Jewish and civic spaces. Doors long closed began to open, and conversations once dwindled now gained some real traction.

Reflecting on the experience, Arthur Regis noted that the engagements throughout the visit affirmed something deeply significant: that Nigerian Jews are no longer invisible within their nation. For many, this recognition indicated a significant turning point—one that reinforced a sense of belonging, legitimacy, and hope for sustained cooperation in the future.

Sentiment has changed, as Nigerian Jews returned to their synagogues with renewed pride and a rekindled sense of purpose. Currently, the collective understanding that they had crossed a historic threshold is the most prevalent mindset. The message was clear and undeniable: the Jewish people of Nigeria are here—and the world has finally begun to listen.

The post Hope, Unity, Global Embrace: How the CJC Visit Could Redefine Nigerian Judaism first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

JEWISH CAMPING, a gathering of the faithful, is a concept that has taken many shapes at points in time, historically, until it has evolved into what we know about it today. Retreating into a camp, a confined environment, away from the bustling and noisy world has served many purposes: group meditation, observing festivals fervently, study camps, or simply a protected space away from the public and prying eyes. Today, in its most familiar form, it has become a denominational backbone, shaping and strengthening the different sect of global Judaism.

The United States, with the highest number of Jewish adherents, hosts the highest number of modern campers. There are camps in some parts of Europe, in Israel, Australia, and South Africa. These camps, most of which own permanent locations, operate periodically, mostly during the summer holiday period. When active, camping activities last for two to three months and are coordinated by trained management teams consisting of counsellors and volunteers.

Depending on one’s sect affiliation, individuals from different countries or regions can be admitted to attend camp and participate in the daily routines, which keeps the gathering vibrant and effective. Among these campers are the Abayudaya Jews from East Africa, who have attended summer camps in the United States for over a decade. The Abayudaya, which means “people of Judah” in the Luganda language, mostly inhabit the eastern parts of Uganda. Originating in Mbale, the cradle of Judaism in the country, they have spread out to both the north and central regions and further westward beyond Kampala, the capital of the country, fondly referred to as the pearl of Africa due to its magnificent and scenic topography, excellent weather, and natural lakes and mountains that boost its tourism potential.

During the government of Idi Amin, thousands of followers of the legendary Semei Kakungulu, who was the patriarch of Ugandan Judaism and who passed away in 1929, faced enormous threats for practicing their faith. This pressure intensified as relations between the State of Israel and the Ugandan government deteriorated. In July 1976, Israel mounted a daring rescue effort when Air France airliner with Israeli and Jewish passengers was hijacked and forced to land at Entebbe Airport. The military operation eventually freed the hostages in a dramatic overnight raid. It was led by Yonatan Netanyahu, the head of the elite Sayeret Matkal squad and the older brother of Israel’s current prime minister. Furious with both the rescue and Israel’s defiance, Idi Amin increased his hostility toward anyone perceived to be connected to Judaism or Israel, leaving the Abayudaya communities even more vulnerable.

When news broke out about the location of some citizens practicing the Israeli Judaism religion in some remote parts of Mbale, the tension was shifted to these rural-dwelling Jews. Without any chance to withstand the government’s brutal force, the majority of them abandoned the religion; some fled, while the few who stayed back gathered and prayed in secret in a cave-like structure inside a forest in Nangolo. However, after the dictator was deposed and the situation calmed down, the first historic kibbutz camping was established, which became a rallying point that helped recall and reunite the Abayudaya, providing the necessary push for their re-emergence and survival.

From the kibbutz in Mbale to the summer camps in the United States, and now to a historic first modern type of camping in Busabala near Kampala—this is the story of the Jews in Uganda. Initially starting out in Mbale, there are now flourishing communities spread out, thanks to new waves of conversion, marriages, and new births, as well as the multiple sects existing in the country. But unlike most camps abroad, this inaugural camp was designed to unite Jewish children, youths, and adults from all sects, including Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform, under one roof for learning, fellowship, and spiritual growth.

The camp organizers at Busabala in Uganda embraced the idea of starting small and gradually expanding, echoing the well-known saying that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. There is no need to wait for the entire light to turn green; with willing individuals and a few dedicated volunteers, it requires a determined leader to take on the role of a pathfinder to reach the desired outcome. When the call was finally made, numerous individuals responded and signed up, turning the dream into reality.

On December 13th, 2024, from different corners of the country, all roads led to Busabala, in the Wakiso district. Participants from Nabugoye and Nasenyi, both in Mbale, and from Mukono in the central region, as well as Kampala, made it to camp. The venue was at St. Peter’s High School, with an excellent dormitory facility for campers and a secured and beautiful surrounding with trees adding to its beauty.

The camp lasted for the next 2 weeks, during which a total record number of 105 participants, including campers, facilitators, volunteers, and counselors, were present. The campers, made up of children, teenagers, and youths, ranged from the age of 5 to 28, inclusive of male and female. Being the first time, the stakes were high, with high expectations of achieving a fulfilling gathering while keeping the children engaged and motivated. For some of the officials, it was truly their first time volunteering, so it was an opportunity to learn on the job, especially after the brief training and orientation they had received before the camping commenced.

The days at Busabala were structured yet fluid, filled with a vibrant buzz of activity that blended learning with recreation and discipline with joy, from sunrise until well after the stars came out over Lake Victoria, which lies a few kilometres distant. Every morning, counselors reviewed the day’s agenda, followed by spirited shacharit prayers with melodies mixing Hebrew with the local Luganda in a unique, uplifting harmony. Next is breakfast, before proceeding to the next round of the morning session. As the camp went on, both the participants and the facilitators got used to the rhythm, creating an atmosphere of excitement, adventure, and unity.

Jewish education formed the sacred core of each day. In small, age-appropriate groups, campers delved into Torah study, exploring stories and lessons to enrich their knowledge. Hebrew classes echoed in the classrooms, with children enthusiastically practicing the alephbet and common phrases, while teenagers worked on conversational skills. The highlight of the week for many was the challah-making workshop for the girls. Flour-dusted hands worked joyfully, braiding dough for Shabbat, the smell of baking bread filling the surroundings, signalling the coming of Shabbat. The younger girls were filled with extreme joy as they learned firsthand from the women who taught them how to bake bread, emphasizing its importance to Jewish womanhood.

The camp put a lot of focus on leadership and personal growth, in addition to spiritual growth. It organized leadership workshops that encouraged shy teenagers to speak up and work together by having them solve problems. Campers took part in small-group workshops where they did affirmations and spoke about things in groups to boost their self-esteem and confidence. Roleplaying helped them figure out what they were good at, and group reflections made them want to create personal objectives. Many of them had never stood in front of their peers to express an idea or lead an activity before, and these experiences had a lasting effect on their confidence.

The Health and Wellness Workshops were just as important because they were meant to help young people deal with genuine problems. Qualified facilitators led practical discussions on HIV/AIDS awareness, cancer prevention, personal hygiene, and overall well-being. Campers learned how important it is to get regular checkups, keep things clean, and adopt healthy kosher eating habits. The sessions were interactive, with demonstrations, question-and-answer segments, and group activities that made the learning fun and memorable. Later, parents testified to the positive behavioural changes observed in their children after camp.

The mid-afternoons buzzed with interactive joy, especially the playing times that came after the learning sections. Friendly competition thrived through football matches and relay races, with the onlookers cheering their preferred teams from the stands. After this, collaborative cooking sessions, often supervised by the elderly women, taught both kitchen skills and the value of shared effort. These moments of pure fun and learning were not mere recreation; they were the glue that fused diverse individuals from different communities and sects into a single, supportive kehilla.

Evenings were dedicated to interactive activities—campfires, storytelling, games, and cooking sessions. These end-of day activities aimed to ensure cemented friendships, create laughter-filled memories, and foster a sense of belonging among all participants. And as the flames of the campfire lit up the night sky, the voices of children and young adults singing Jewish melodies blended beautifully with the quiet rustle of trees surrounding the compound.

Similarly, creativity through art and craft was embraced in the camp, where campers learned to create decorative items using beads. These sessions did more than teach skills; they strengthened cultural pride and encouraged innovation. Many campers proudly carried home the items they crafted—necklaces, bracelets, purses, and small bags—as souvenirs of their time together. In addition, they also demonstrated how to make use reusable sanitary pads for girls.

By the end of the program, it was evident that this camp was more than just an event; it was a turning moment. One of the main goals was to train young leaders who would go back to their home synagogues equipped with new skills, confidence, and knowledge. Now that the seeds have been planted, the goal is for these campers to grow into responsible leaders who help their families, make their communities stronger, and help make Uganda’s Jewish future bright.

Apart from South Africa, Uganda is not the only country that is hosting a Jewish camp, as Nigeria has one in its capital. “Camp Sarah” has continuously operated for three years since its founding in 2023, welcoming campers from all over the federation. Headed by Debbie Issar, Camp Sarah is an organization that aims to replicate the model of Jewish camps in the United States for Jewish communities in Nigeria, providing local camping opportunities since many individuals cannot participate in camps abroad. Inspired by the concept of teaching children playfully, after the camp Sarah 2025, being a third summer of Jewish learning and fun, sister camps have spread to other parts of Nigeria, such as Port Harcourt and Ebonyi State, indicating interest to follow suit.

Apart from South Africa, Uganda is not the only country that is hosting a Jewish camp, as Nigeria has one in its capital. “Camp Sarah” has continuously operated for three years since its founding in 2023, welcoming campers from all over the federation. Headed by Debbie Issar, Camp Sarah is an organization that aims to replicate the model of Jewish camps in the United States for Jewish communities in Nigeria, providing local camping opportunities since many individuals cannot participate in camps abroad. Inspired by the concept of teaching children playfully, after the camp Sarah 2025, being a third summer of Jewish learning and fun, sister camps have spread to other parts of Nigeria, such as Port Harcourt and Ebonyi State, indicating interest to follow suit.

Just as Debbie serves as a pathfinder for Camp Sarah, Abigail Businge plays a similar role for the first Uganda camp, which is hosted by the Hatikvah Jewish Centre, an organization she founded. Together with her dedicated team, they envisioned a space where Jewish individuals, including orphans, marginalized youth, and less privileged community members, could come together to study Torah, celebrate Shabbat, and engage in interactive activities that build both character and community. At the core of its organizational objectives is empowering Jewish youth to thrive after school, building confidence, skills, and community through innovative programs, mentorship, and Jewish values.

When we asked Abigail how she managed to run the last camp, she was filled with excitement, recalling memories of the past. “My husband is passionate about charity and acts of supporting children and proved his generosity through his donation for this course. One of my brothers, with some other folks he brought, manned the security post throughout the duration. And the transportation of participants from Mukono was sponsored by members of the Tzion Beth Hamitzvot community.”

The vision behind Uganda’s first Jewish camp is aimed at empowering a generation and shaping its future through youth engagement and leadership training. In the actual sense, the rise of camping initiatives in Nigeria and Uganda is evidence of a continental awakening, an effort of resilience and revival, which deserves to be recognized. The result is a call for support to encourage broader and more consistent camping that positions youth for success through these gathering concepts, similar to those found in other parts of the world.

The post Jewish Camping Efforts in Uganda: A New Chapter Begins first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

EDUCATION is the process of acquiring knowledge, skills, and values through formal, non-formal, or informal learning experiences. When the Éclaireuses et Éclaireurs Israélites de France (EEIF) came to the Beit Bnei Yeshurun Jewish Community of Cameroon to provide value-based Scouting education, the community members came out joyously and in large numbers to participate in the training with their Jewish brothers who had traveled from France.

The Cameroonian Jewish community was filled with excitement and unity as they welcomed a large delegation of young people from the EEIF. Their visit marked a wonderful moment of friendship, education, and shared Jewish heritage between the communities of Africa and Europe. Clearly, it was a time to experience firsthand the mission and spirit of the Éclaireuses et Éclaireurs Israélites de France (EEIF), a Jewish Scouting and Guiding organization founded in 1923. It is a proud member of the Fédération du Scoutisme Français and the International Forum of Jewish Scouts, making it an integral part of both the French and global Scouting movements. The EEIF provides an enriching educational experience to young people aged 7 to 25, combining Jewish values with the Scouting method— a system that fosters personal growth, teamwork, and leadership.

Its activities are meant to assist young Jews learn how to serve others and care for the world around them while also building a strong sense of identity, citizenship, and responsibility. The Lubavitcher Rebbe’s words resonate here: “When two Jews meet, their focus should be on helping a third Jew.” These words ring true here. The movement is based on the idea of peer-led education, where older members teach and guide younger ones by becoming role models, leaders, and active participants.

Throughout the year, the EEIF organizes a variety of programs that encourage awareness, discovery, and service. Some of these are leadership training, humanitarian work, camping trips, and cultural exchanges, like the one that just happened in Cameroon. The values of Scouting and the Jewish principle of tikkun olam, which means “repairing and improving the world through acts of kindness and responsibility,” govern each activity.

Three Weeks of Learning, Service, and Discovery

The EEIF delegation spent three weeks in Cameroon, engaging in a variety of activities that reflected the movement’s mission of education, service, and cultural exchange. They traveled to the western and coastal parts of the country, where they learned about the rich traditions, customs, and friendliness of the Cameroonian people.

One of the highlights of their stay was the humanitarian outreach program, where the young scouts and their hosts worked hand-in-hand on community development initiatives. They took part in educational programs and local charity projects, showing the spirit of caring and working together that is at the heart of both Scouting and Judaism.

During the three weeks, the EEIF delegation shared spiritually uplifting moments with the Beit Bnei Yeshurun community. One of the best times they had was when they celebrated Shabbat together with the host Jewish community. It was a time of prayer, pleasure, and being together. In Yaounde, the capital city of the country, it was a whole different Shabbat.

The delegation was graciously welcomed and hosted by Rabbi Betsalel, the spiritual leader of Beit Bnei Yeshurun, which is supposedly the biggest Jewish congregation in the country. Also the Cameroonian representative to the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance (SAJA), his leadership and guidance ensured that the visit was well-coordinated, meaningful, and spiritually uplifting. Rabbi Betsalel expressed deep appreciation for the EEIF’s commitment to youth education and international Jewish collaboration.

“Though this is your first visit, we believe, with God’s help, that more of these visits will occur,” he said. “Already, our community has embraced the spirit of EEIF. We are grateful for this encounter, which has reminded us of our shared destiny as one people.”

A Lasting Impact

Occasions like this are rare, and they often create a lasting impression by planting the vision of the lean path to the top. As the program concluded, both the visitors and their hosts reflected on the significance of the past three weeks. Another perspective is that most of the visitors were young Jewish athletes, which increases the recent sporting spirited-motivation and serves as a rallying call for aspiring African Jewish athletes seeking inclusion in the Maccabiah, the largest Jewish tournament in the world, while also wishing for the establishment of a Maccabi African Confederation.

Without doubt, the EEIF journey to Cameroon in Central Africa has brought about friendship, mutual respect, a possible athletic global pathway, and a renewed sense of Jewish identity. The Beit Bnei Yeshurun, with the other Jewish communities in Cameroon, and the EEIF have demonstrated to the world that Jewish education, whether formal or informal, is a collective responsibility for all Jews.

The post Building Bridges through Scouting: EEIF’s Educational Mission to Cameroon Jewish Community. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

JEWISH COMMUNITIES in Uganda have existed for over a hundred years, marking a century in 2019, which was celebrated globally as a major anniversary. In Mbale, the Eastern region of the landlocked country—the cradle of Judaism—is evident in facts and historical monuments, which visually tell the story. A story of its founding fathers, led by a man of valor, strength, and authority wielding control over a large expanse of land on account of the British colonial masters. By the time he, Semei Kakungulu, converted to Judaism in 1919, lands were mapped out for synagogues and Jewish communities in several parts of Mbale (the town he founded), which included a central area in Namanyonyi village located between Nabugoye and Nangolo, all of which have synagogues until today.

A journey to Namanyonyi will take one through a prism of the long history of decades of Jewish practices. Today, supposedly the largest congregation of the Abayudaya, which refers to the Jewish community in Uganda and means the people of Judah, has just constructed a magnificent house of prayer. Situated right in the heart of the trading center, the new synagogue building rises prominently near the dusty road that descends toward the Namatala River in the valley below.

Thankfully, the former synagogue has served as a house of prayer for generations of individuals who have identified as Jews for two and a half decades. Although it was a relatively small structure, it united not only the
residents of Namanyonyi but also others. How can I forget my first-ever Shabbat Shacharit in Uganda? It was a joint service attended by multiple congregations. Both Israeli and Ugandan flags hung from the ceiling before the entrance to the bimah area. One of the major distinction today is the presence of two Ugandan flags flanking an Israeli flag within the new structure.

However, it’s fascinating to note that there was another synagogue before the 23-year building, but it was surrounded with so many controversies. During the early days of their Jewish life at the cascading hills of Mbale, where Judaism thrives, a synagogue was constructed in Namanyonyi in favor of worshipers who believe in facing the west while praying. The layout was in contrast to what the Moses Synagogue stood for, the oldest synagogue at that time on the hills of Nabugoye, which became the center of Jewish revival after the era Judaism was outlawed in Uganda by the Idi Amin administration. But unlike the Moses Synagogue that was later brought down to give way to a modern synagogue building, the older Namanyonyi Synagogue was destroyed to revert back to the idea that praying while facing the East is more ideal.

In March 2022, in an unexpected itinerary, I attended a combined Shacharit service at the old shul. The idea of strengthening the bonds between several communities is achieved through these special types of Shabbat
gatherings hosted periodically by different host synagogues with folks in attendance from other Jewish communities around. At the high-spirited Shabbat at the Namanyonyi Synagogue, there were people from the neighboring Nabugoye and Nangolo communities in attendance. Currently, only a few individuals who have prayed in both synagogues can appreciate the contrast between the old and new structures at the Namanyonyi historical site.

But how were they able to achieve this feat in the shortest period of time? A community with little or no resources going from an old 100+ capacity synagogue to a 500+ capacity modern masterpiece. In comparison to the old building that lacked adequate ventilation, which often put the children in a crying mood when its short aluminum roof was heated in the midday sun. The three doors at the western end of the old building have been replaced with three different entrances located on three sides of the new structure. The metallic entrances and the window protectors are made with a touch of Jewish artistry. Within the expansive interior, there are two distinct floor elevations, with the bimah positioned slightly higher than the surrounding areas. Two rooms lead into this space, while the ark is situated a short distance in front of the bimah.

A Call to Action:

Now, to answer the question above, we can trace this to their participation in an international marine conservation exercise back in 2023. We can describe this global event, known as reverse tashlich, as a necessary action at the
intersection of science, nature, and religion. In addition to indiscriminate discharge of dirt into our surrounding waters, Jews also put pressure on the waters while observing the Rosh Hashanah tashlich prayers. Therefore, to undo some of these acts against our water bodies, it only makes sense in equal measure to be dedicated to cleaning the waters around us periodically. This concept easily resonates with many, including community chairperson like Moshe Sebagabo, who led his community to participate in the 2023 edition of the reverse tashlich, becoming the first Black African community to make its debut in the marine conservation movement to
repair the sea.

“I was part of a WhatsApp group that includes a number of African Jews. One day, I received a WhatsApp
message about the 6th annual reversentashlich event. At first we didn’t know much about it, and many were reluctant to participate. Knowing that the Namatala River is nearby and plagued by plastic pollution, I managed to pull a team together, and we removed many plastics flowing down the river.”

It is widely known that if water bodies and humanity are to achieve some form of balancing, certain boundaries need to be maintained and not crossed. Apart from the fact that waste plastic blockage of water channels and drainage canals can cause flooding in the town, the plastics, which end up in the ocean with fishes, end up affecting the same humanity that failed to prevent the plastics from getting into the water in the first place.

According to Statista, a global data and business intelligence platform with an extensive collection of statistics, the world produces around 350 million tons of plastic waste each year. Then, as regards plastic in the ocean, between 1 and 2 million tons of plastic enter the oceans annually, which is equivalent to 8 million pieces of plastic pollution finding their way into our ocean daily. To comprehend the magnitude of these statistics, it is estimated that there are 51 trillion microplastics already in the ocean. After numerous oceanic chemical reactions, plastics degrade into minuscule, soft particles that some fish may ingest and cannot digest. Eventually, these fish end up as meals for men, who in turn consume them and face the likelihood of getting plastic poisoning.

One of the factors that fuels plastic pollution is its easy movement down the river, taking it on its path to the sea and oceans. Similarly, plastics flow from the upland areas of Mbale, including regions around Mount Elgon, down the valley and into the Namatala River, which is located less than 150 meters from the Namanyonyi Synagogue. Being aware of the phenomenon of seeing plastics floating along their backyards, especially during the rainy seasons, a team was mobilized for the exercise. Inspired by their alignment with the Reverse Tashlich global movement, the team went out together to clean up the riverbanks. The result of this collective work was massive and trendy, lauded by many as a significant first outing effort by an East African Jewish community.

The Turning Point:

In the aftermath of events, the community’s sincere dream—which, at first glance, appears to be unattainable—came to pass. The friendships stemming from new partnerships and global teamwork laid the basis that triggered the financial support. While the discussion lasted, erecting a synagogue wasn’t an automatic decision, as other worthwhile projects were brought to the table, which even included commercial solar water generation. At the end,
the best decision was arrived at, a reflection of the resolve of a people seeking a rebuild of a standard community with a beautiful synagogue to pray in. During the construction of the new synagogue, services continued to take place in the old synagogue building.

“The only time that payers stopped in the synagogue was when it was time to construct the roof of the new building. The construction engineer advised that it was not safe to remain underneath a heavy roof while it was being constructed. So, we moved the Sefer Torah to one of our homes and prayed from there. A few weeks into the roofing project, we returned the ark and resumed our prayers in the newly constructed synagogue.”

Athalia looked excited while she narrated the phases in the construction of the synagogue. Her husband, Pinchas, is one of the highly respected elders in the community, and she’s also the sister of Gershom Sizomu, the chief rabbi of Uganda.

Nothing beats firsthand experience by going somewhere and immersing yourself in unison to grasp the same experience of the people—what they feel and how they feel about it. I recal driving past the synagogue while it was under construction exactly a year ago—and I was in the company of some visiting Jews from Canada, Janice and Liora. We were in the company of Chaim Kihumbah, a documentarian and our tour guide, as we headed to the cave synagogue, a rocky, cave-like structure in the forest at Nangolo. The hideout is where the Abayudaya Jews prayed in private during Idi Amin’s attempts to suppress Judaism in Uganda. However, we only stopped inside the car to take a photograph before continuing on the bumpy ride to the cave; ever since then, I have continuously imagined what it will feel like to pray inside the new shul.

Praying in the New Shul:

As I was called up to say a few words in front of the congregation inside the new Namanyonyi Synagogue after shacharit, I was short of words, a moment I had waited for, perhaps with a sense of honor as the first Nigerian Jew to pray in the new building. I recounted my first trip to Uganda in February 2023. My first Shacharit Shabbat service was at
Namanyonyi. The Kiddush took place outside the small old synagogue, where everyone stood and listened to the melodic recitation of the blessing of wine and bread. Having prayed in the old synagogue and now in this new one, I can appreciate the difference, and the fact that this change occurred over a brief period of time truly demonstrates how magical a miracle can be.

However, a ceiling has not yet been installed to showcase the building’s full architectural brilliance, despite its
spaciousness, adequate ventilation, and high roof. Similarly, the beauty of the structure is not solely determined by the ceiling; a paved floor made of marble or colored materials is also essential to reflect the glory of a sanctuary for prayers. Again, security has to be paramountly considered, which means fixing the remaining protective glass cover for the north end side of the synagogue windows. In addition, a fence around the perimeter will provide better surveillance ability within and around the compound that houses the synagogue and the space around it. But peradventure I am asked, when is the likely official inauguration of the synagogue, with every party involved meeting and feasting together? My answer will be precise—when everything mentioned above is fully put in place, and then we see outdoor painting of the building completed. Nevertheless, of course, the same miracle that worked will still work its magic out!

“Imagine people in the village claiming that we have received magical wealth power from the river,” Moshe said, causing all of us to laugh loudly. But yes, maybe they’re correct—didn’t we go to the river to perform reverse tashlich, Shmuel added. Didn’t you see the video, Avraham? I was the one blowing the shofar inside the river while we picked out the plastics. I laughed and asked why he would bring a shofar to the river. But without hesitation he answered, “We were going to celebrate Rosh Hashanah at that period!”

It was a very heartfelt conversation with Moshe, the chairman of the synagogue, and with Shmuel, David, and Yosef on Sunday evening when I called again to conduct some interviews in the community. How incredible to see how the community is taking the responsibility of taking the fight against used plastic bottles to the village center and not just removing the plastics flowing down the river. They lamented the menace of people consciously neglecting the harmful effects of indiscriminate disposal and reasoned they needed to focus some more effort on trapping some of the plastics by preventing them from getting into the river flowing down the valley. One of the best strategies to achieve this is to station a plastic collection point at the trading center where the public can empty their waste for easy collection and scheduled proper disposal.

Championing the Fight Against Plastic Pollution:

But just how come there has been a sudden rise in interest in marine conservation among the Jewish people? Even beyond Uganda, the movement has spread to West Africa in Nigeria and Ghana in 2024, with many communities still looking forward to making their debut as soon as they can. All this drive and enthusiasm to take up the fight against plastics can all be connected to one thing—an initiative that intertwined the Jewish identity with marinity—it was simply an innovative approach as marine cleanup has been there all along—but used to be the business of those it would be until it’s been branded as reverse tashlich. This aligns with the mission and vision of the organization, which is a global entity where science and spirituality intersect to form a Jewish perspective.

Repair the Sea, otherwise in Hebrew called Tikkun HaYam, is rooted in the foundation of marine conservation, created to raise awareness in the Jewish community about the eminent threats facing water bodies around us. Rabbi Ed Rosenthal, the founder, as an environmentalist, stressed the importance of Jews making marine protection a priority because when Jews get involved in an issue, substantial change takes place. Among the various cleanup projects under their brand, the reverse tashlich concept was particularly impactful because it resonated with many people. This innovative environmental Jewish ritual is a call to join the initiative that compels us to seek reverse tashlich and cleanse human sins in a collaborative environment cleanup. During Tashlich, we dirty surrounding water bodies with our crumbs of bread, but in a reversal process we remove dirt from the waters. The acceptability of the concept doesn’t just spice up one’s environmental stewardship but takes us to the surroundings not in search of breads to remove but rather plastics that threaten humanity, making the reversal intentions effective.

However, another crucial issue, equally significant as plastic removal, is the methods of disposing of all collected plastics. Prior to removing plastic garbage from the environment, the methods and approaches for its disposal must be evaluated. Given the non-biodegradability of plastics, conservatives advocate for initiatives that promote environmentally sustainable methods of reusing trash.

Regardless of the level of engagement, even at least applying the most common procedures, those committed to this renewed fight against plastic pollution must quickly figure out what to do eventually with the collected plastics. While there are several possible directions, it’s important to incorporate a viability approach to ensure the entire process remains economically sustainable. Obviously— in a way that turns the venture into either a product or service, driven by the demand from the local market and surrounding area being the ultimate consideration.

The post Namanyonyi Replaces Its 23-Year-Old Synagogue. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

How Innovation Africa is transforming Jewish and Non-Jewish Communities with Israeli Solar Technology.

Development, albeit much slower, is sweeping across the continent, but unfortunately, not at the same rate in the majority of the remote areas. Despite calls for modernity and improved living standards, rural areas are lagging behind on this journey. These locations, typical shadows of what they represent— hardship, isolation, and limited access to basic amenities— are found in almost many parts of Africa.

In many parts of rural Africa, the setting sun marks the end of productive endeavors: without electricity, darkness prevails in the evening, halting several essential services and activities, even religious practices as well. The lack of access to clean water, in addition, further compounds the daily challenges faced by millions.

Though the categories of rural locations differ in size and their degree of vulnerability. Yet, amidst this widespread darkness, a new light is rising— one powered not by chance, but by innovation and compassion. That light, a wave of change making a tremendous impact, is being brought by Innovation Africa, an Israeli non-governmental organization transforming underserved remote communities through solar energy and water access.

Innovation Africa’s projects have benefited some African Jewish communities, many of which are located in remote and rural areas. The change is obvious judging from when we never thought of solar to now that we’re witnessing solar-powered Jewish communities mostly in Uganda. From lighting synagogues and mikveot to powering irrigation and clean water systems, solar energy is reshaping what it means to thrive in Africa’s countryside.

One of the greatest challenges faced in rural areas in Africa is widespread underdevelopment. It is estimated that over 600 million people live without reliable electricity on the continent. Similarly, in regions where Jewish communities live—such as Uganda’s Eastern region—access to basic infrastructure like water and electricity is often, unfortunately unavailable. The outcome of this weak public system is far-reaching: some young people walk miles daily to fetch water, women give birth in darkness, and farms are plagued with irregular rainfall due to climate change.

For many Jewish families in these rural settings, the challenges extend to religious life. Observing Jewish rituals— like immersing in a mikveh, hosting evening prayers and Shabbat dinners, or studying Torah at night— becomes complicated without power or light. And in some cases, when the electricity is available, some synagogues are not always able to pay for the electricity bill to keep it lighted. No doubt, maintaining a vibrant Jewish identity should be encouraged and prioritized, especially if there is a reliable alternative system available to power these Jewish locations. This quiet revolution is the one brought by Innovation Africa’s solar energy mission.

Founded in 2008 by Sivan Yaari, Innovation Africa was born from a simple yet powerful idea: use Israeli’s proven technologies to bring solutions that would tackle one of Africa’s basic development challenges. The organization provides alternative energy by installing solar-powered water pumping systems, solar electricity solutions, and drip irrigation technologies. All of their projects utilize a cutting-edge system that is managed through a digital monitoring platform accessible from anywhere in the world.

To date, Innovation Africa has implemented over 950 projects in 10 African countries, impacting over 5 million people in 1,300 villages. By leveraging the available rich African sunshine, the organization delivers clean water to isolated communities by providing lighting and electricity to schools, synagogues, and medical centers. Under its water projects, Innovation Africa uses effective Israeli technology to provide water for both domestic and irrigation purposes. Their work is cost- effective, transparent, and community-centered. Each project begins with village consultations, engages local technicians, and includes long-term training and support.

On Wednesday, 20th of February, I made a brief visit to their office on Wanale Road in Mbale to meet the team behind their impressive performance in Uganda. Seated down in the main office room, I couldn’t help but stare at the water project flowsheet showing visibly on a whiteboard, revealing decisions and steps in different but interconnected, complicated-looking procedures that successfully deliver water projects. It was truly an honor to speak with Alfred and Eric, two of their finest staff, who answered all my questions during our discussion.

With smiles all over his face, Alfred stated that they have received tons of requests from villages and communities that need our solar-powered boreholes. He continued:

Even though we can’t help everyone at the same time, we prioritize how vulnerable the village in question is— its population and proximity to any existing water sources in the area.” Then, in answering one of my questions, Eric spoke in confidence. “We don’t just install boreholes; we train people on how to manage, repair, and troubleshoot the system. We only send a team to fix a major malfunction and get it running again.

In Uganda, several Jewish communities— like Kwania, Namutumba, Nasenyi, Nangolo, and Putti— are entirely rural. Until recently, most of them relied on kerosene lamps, unclean water sources, and manual farming methods. Not only did the economic opportunities become limited due to lack of electricity, but also religious expression. But thanks to Innovation Africa, who have been changing the narratives. According to Alfred, the construction of a solar- powered synagogue in Putti was actually the first Jewish community  to  benefit  from Innovation Africa projects in the country.

The Putti Jewish community, located in Eastern Uganda at the outskirts of Mbale, has long dreamt of a synagogue that reflects its spiritual aspirations. Its old synagogue, a small building that has kept the community going, still stands today as a tourist site. Their dream of getting a better synagogue became a reality when Innovation Africa began working in Uganda. The organization supported the construction and solar electrification of a new synagogue building, erected next to the old synagogue.

With solar-capability, evening services now hold at the Synagogue, including Torah learning, and community events that were previously restricted once the evening darkness comes. Solar lighting has not only enhanced the religious atmosphere— it has strengthened Jewish identity and cohesion. Children can now take part in Hebrew lessons after sunset, and Shabbat gatherings are more joyful and meaningful.

In addition to the synagogue, mini-solar panels were also installed on the homes of some synagogue members who live far away in the sparsely populated Putti village. Recently, Innovation Africa completed the installation of a similar solar electrification system at the Kahal Kadosh Beth Shalom (KKBS) congregation in Nangolo, with funding from the Kirsh Foundation. In comparison to Putti, this 2023 project is a testament that Innovation Africa is true to its mission of providing solar for humanitarian courses.

But unlike Putti, it didn’t construct a synagogue from scratch; it only powered up the newly built KKBS synagogue. Additionally, the village is currently getting a more potent and innovative public water system in an effort to reach more people in the surrounding area. The Nangolo village project utilizes solar energy to provide water for public use, which demonstrates how a single intervention can transform an entire community. During Purim of 2025, I was with the congregation in Nangolo headed by JJ Keki, which happened to be my second visit to the community. A walk through the little village will reveal the construction layout template of the water project.

By drilling into the ground and tapping from its rich aquifer, clean water is distributed       through underground pipes across a section of the village near the synagogue. Prior to this, women and children would walk some kilometers daily to fetch water from open and contaminated            water sources. But the feature of this village water scheme allows the water to be generated at the main site of the solar water generation and stored in overhead tanks, while villagers can access this water from different designated spots in Nangolo.

The construction involves the installation of a submersible solar pump with a 10-meter tower and an underground distribution channel that feeds many taps in the village. When this project gets completed, with a simple turn of a tap, families can access clean, reliable water— leading to better hygiene, lower the risk of disease, and provide people more time for school and work.

In Namutumba, the focus was on cultivating self-reliance through agriculture. Farming here, like in many other places, depends on seasonal rainfall, which is not enough, and cases of prolonged droughts have left them vulnerable to food insecurity. It was on this backdrop that the “Namutumba Agriculture for Life” scheme was formed in 2017 after a famine period experienced in Uganda. This project, the brainchild of Israel Siriri, Ssekiddu Isaac, and Nehemiah Muguya, has over the years extended its activities from food crops to cash crops to ensure diversification and sustainability.

Nevertheless, with the recent intervention of Innovation Africa, agricultural operations have received a significant technological boost in the Namutumba        Abayudaya community. With solar-driven pumps channeling water to farmland through drip irrigation, crop yields have increased. The community now grows maize, pineapple, cassava, banana, and chilis. The solar project by Innovation Africa does support agriculture and simultaneously provides water that is distributed to 17 taps in the area, sustaining about 3,000 people living in the village.

On February 27th, the Nasenyi Jewish community in Uganda inaugurated a new synagogue. If you have been to Kahal Kadosh She’erit Yisrael (KKSY) before now, you can better understand what tremendous change it got, dismantling the old building and putting up a magnificent piece. Thanks to the significant support from SJUA (Sephardi Jews of Uganda Assistance) and a couple of other individuals solidly behind the Nasenyi community. It was a wonderful gathering on that day as visitors from across the globe stormed the venue to officially open up the new shul.

A few yards away from the solar-powered synagogue building, a farmland extends about 6 hectares for the community’s food security efforts. Then about another one and a half kilometers away, there is a solar-lit mikveh built in 2023. Despite being small and remote, the Nasenyi community is deeply committed to Jewish practices. On this basis, Innovation Africa happily installed solar lighting in the mikveh, an essential ritual bath for family purity and conversion, enabling it to operate at night.

Generally, what sets Innovation Africa apart is its holistic, sustainable model. A transparent system equipped with remote monitoring, allowing managers to track energy usage, water flow, and maintenance in real time. One of their success secrets is maintaining a dedicated workforce made up of engineers, field officers, managers, and experts. They train technicians on the site to handle repairs, ensuring that the community maintains the systems instead of abandoning them. This empowerment model transforms beneficiaries into caretakers, thereby reducing dependency and fostering resilience.

Inspiring founder of Innovation Africa Sivan Yaari—who also doubles as CEO of the tech organization—expressed her enduring motivation and the mission ahead while recently commissioning a new solar-powered water tank in a Malawian village. Another project of a similar nature is currently underway in neighboring Zambia and is scheduled to launch later in August.

We’re proud to bring the light of Israeli innovation to Jewish and non-Jewish communities alike—powering synagogues, mikvehs, farms, and futures. When the lights turn on or clean water flows, it’s not just technology—it’s dignity, opportunity, and hope.

Moreover, the inclusion of Jewish and non-Jewish communities alike reinforces a shared humanity— proving that Israeli technology can serve as a bridge for cross-cultural cooperation and understanding. Looking ahead, the success stories of these solar-powered Ugandan Jewish communities point toward a compelling future. And as Innovation Africa expands its reach, more Jewish communities across Sub-Saharan Africa could gain access to electricity, clean water, and agricultural solutions.

In a world facing both climatic and economic crises, solar energy offers a path that is clean, renewable, and adaptable. To see African Jewish communities leveraging technology— which offers continuity— the ability to pass on the tradition, educate the next generation, and live Jewishly with pride. According to Jewish literature, Israel is referred to as the “light unto the nations.” Through the work of Innovation Africa, this calling is being fulfilled in the most literal sense. Light is entering homes, synagogues, mikvehs, schools, and fields— nourishing both body and soul.

No doubt, this growing collaboration between Israeli innovation and African Jewish communities is more than a humanitarian effort. It is a profound statement that even the most remote and marginalized communities can be empowered, dignified, and included in the global Jewish narratives.

The post Illuminating and Empowering Rural Africa. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

In recent years, there has been an awakening among people from diverse backgrounds, especially in Africa, who are rediscovering their Jewish roots. Numerous communities are, at long last, reconnecting with a long-lost heritage, thereby giving hope to the idea of “Kibbutz Galuyot” (Ingathering of the Exiles), as written in Devarim 30:3: “Then Hashem, your G-d, will bring back your exiles, and He will have mercy upon you.”

Rudy Rochman, an Israeli Jewish rights activist, made a logical statement in an interview with the a magazine during one of his trips to West Africa. In my interactive conversation with a few non-African Jewish individuals I have met, never have I seen anyone reason in such a manner, putting themself in a replacive position, as he spoke with considerable emotion and seriousness.

“When I first found out that there were Jews in Africa, I felt a sense of shock and responsibility to connect with them. I asked myself, what if they had come to Israel first while we were still suffering in the diaspora? Wouldn’t we want them to come, help, and recognize us?”

Looking at the scripture, the return of the Jews of Africa, whether by bloodline or by spiritual calling, is more of a prophetic fulfillment of Yeshayahu 11:12: “He will raise a banner for the nations and gather the exiles of Israel. He will assemble the scattered people of Yehudah from the four quarters of the earth.”

The Concept of Baal Teshuvah and the African Jews

In Judaism, a returnee (Baal Teshuvah), like the African Jews, refers to a Jew who, after a period of non-observance or a less strict religious lifestyle, returns to a more observant and traditional practice of Judaism. This concept is what could be said of the African Jews (the lost tribes of Israel and the emerging communities), who are returning to G-d with a commitment to live according to Jewish principles. Yet, with this return comes a sacred responsibility—conversion to Judaism.

Conversion to Judaism (Giyur) is the process by which non-Jews adopt the Jewish religion and become members of the Jewish ethnoreligious community. For the African Jewry, who have embraced and followed the practice of Rabbinical Judaism for over decades, it is not easy to hear that they need to convert to their original ancestral religious path, but this is not personal. We can liken this circumstance to the same scenario that the entire Jewish nation underwent after leaving Egypt. Despite all the suffering and torment for being Jewish, the Israelites, upon reaching Mount Sinai, were told that they had to formally accept the Torah and convert to Judaism by immersing in a mikvah.

According to Rabbi Aron Moss, “The Israelites could have had the same complaint: ‘We have always been Jewish, we have suffered terribly for it, and now we are told to become Jewish?”

The Jews of old also had a time and moment to ponder and choose if they were ready for this formal recognition and commitment to Hashem for a lifetime. Therefore, today, the African Jewry, mostly the communities of Jews of color, should know that conversion is not a rejection of our past as a lost tribe of Israel but an embrace of the future—a formal acceptance of our destiny and identity as Jews.

Rabbi Eliyahu Birnbaum, known as the Yehudi Olami (The Wandering Jew), once said in an interview, “It is clear that the only way they, as returning Jewish communities, can join the Jewish nation is through Giyur.”

This statement reiterates the Psak made by Rav Chaim Kanievsky (the Chief Rabbinical Authority of the Charedi Community in Israel, 2016 [5776]), who stated “Giyur Lechumra” that the Igbos, an ethnic tribe in Nigeria claiming to be descendants of the Tribe of Gad, need to undergo a form of conversion to dispel any doubts. And without a doubt, this is a call to our African Jewish brothers and sisters to consider embracing conversion and to be eventually integrated into the mainstream Jewish community.

The Growing Number of Conversions in Africa

Today, so far, the continent has witnessed pockets of conversions within the sub-Saharan states, which include the following:

• In 2017, there was an Orthodox conversion in Abidjan, the capital of Côte d’Ivoire in West Africa.
• Furthermore, we witnessed 2021 and 2024 Masorti conversions in Nigeria, which took place in Abuja and Rivers State, respectively.
• In that same 2024, a Giyur took place in Cameroon, at the capital in Yaounde.
• The Abayudaya in Uganda has had numerous Masorti and Orthodox conversions in the past in its various communities. And through their effort, they organized conversion for a Jewish community in Kenya. In December 2024, conversion also took place in Mbale, at the headquarters of Abayudaya.

The most recent event involved a second batch of Sephardi Orthodox conversions that took place in a Jewish community in Mukono, central Uganda, and was led by Rabbi Sjimon Den Hollander in February 2025. Although these conversions are a step toward African Jewish integration into mainstream Jewry, they fail to meet the demand for full-scale Jewish conversions needed across Africa, as many communities are yearning to be carried along.

The Challenges of Conversion for African Jews

The conversion process in Judaism poses challenges for Africans who have limited financial resources to pursue it. Most Jewish conversions require an officiating beit din, usually made up of 3 or more rabbis in most cases. The other option is for the individual involved to travel to South Africa, Europe, the United States, or Israel to join a Jewish community. Obviously, one or two individuals can arrange funding to move abroad for their conversion, but it is impossible for the entire Jewish community to travel overseas for this purpose.

Nonetheless, an increasing number of African Jews are keen to witness a rise in conversions within their community. Many believe it is time for world Jewry to reflect on some of the limitations facing these communities. There have been requests and appeals for the relevant authorities to embrace and integrate the Jews of Africa into the broader Jewish community by facilitating conversions for them.

Heaven forbid that I should clamor for a watering down of Judaism by quick and easy conversions, but my opinion is that the Jews of Africa, who have been practicing Rabbinical Judaism for a long time now, through the guidance of good-hearted rabbis, should be supported to bring conversions to their various communities. We should establish Jewish organizations specifically for the African giyur and encourage people to financially support them. Jewish schools should be built as alternatives to the missionary and secular schools around them. They should be helped to build mikveot so their women can fulfill their mitzvah of purity after nidah, and more of their youth should be encouraged to go to rabbinical schools to educate their communities.

The giyur of the African Jewry is a mitsvah that should not be delayed any longer, as stated in the Gemara (Yevamot 47b) about the convert: “He is circumcised immediately, as we do not delay (the performance) of a mitsvah.” Yes, it is a mitzvah, and it is important.

Divine Call for Inclusion

This is a divine call, as stated in the Gemara, Pesachim 87B: “And Rabbi Elazar said: The Holy One, Blessed is He, exiled Israel among the nations only so that the converts would join them, as it is stated, ‘And I will sow her to Me in the land’ (Hosea 2:25). Does a person sow a seed of grain for any reason other than to bring in several kor of grain during the harvest? So too, the exile is to enable converts from the nations to join the Jewish people.”

In our thirteenth blessing in the Amidah prayer, which we recite three times a day, we even remember the gayray tzedek (the righteous convert). Another aspect that shows how important converts are is the fact our sages chose the book of Ruth to be read to the congregation on Shavuot, which marks the giving of the Torah; meanwhile, Ruth was a convert. It even gets fascinating when we read in the Hagadah that our fathers were idolaters and heathens, thereby reminding us that the African convert, even from an emerging community, also could become Jewish. All that the African Jewry needs is a chance to be carried along and to be recognized.

At this point, it is a proven fact that moving an entire community, such as one from West Africa, to join a community abroad to access a beit din is practically impossible. A realistic approach would involve communities having their own trained and ordained rabbi in the future, after they have rebuilt their communities to meet standard requirements and possess the necessary facilities. But before this future would be realized, more rabbis should be kind enough to make plans to come to interested communities, observe, teach, and convert them if they have met the necessary standard.

However, an African proverb says, “He who doesn’t clean his mouth before breakfast always complains that the food is sour.” This is advice to the majority of interested African Jewish congregations about the need to put their communities in the right order to meet Jewish standards and avoid complaints. It is a call to unite, build strong, joyful kibbutzim, and set a sustainable leadership structure that is void of rancho. They should be strict in their observance of mitzvot as much as they can and promote good middot to sustain the communities.

We should also understand that even as a convert, we are not inferior to Jews by birth. In reality, according to Ari HaKadosh in Shaar HaGilgulim Hakdamot ב and ג, “The convert was never really a goy but rather a Nefesh HaGer (a Jewish soul in a non-Jewish body).” The Talmud also refers to the convert as “a convert who comes to convert” rather than “a gentile who comes to convert,” thereby supporting the idea of conversion even as a lost tribe of Israel or an emerging Jewish community.

Another point that is of utmost importance is the issue of divisions of sects. Should African Jews strictly divide themselves along the path of Orthodox, Conservative, or Reform sects? Should they give themselves brand names? I believe that African Jews should not feel compelled to adopt these labels if doing so would lead to rifts, segregation, or favoritism within their broader community. I’ve seen how strict many strive to be in observance, even among those who converted here in Nigeria, which is good for them. I believe the African Jewry can adopt the Reb’s words, which say, “A Jew is a Jew.” We must remember that there were never such divisions in the Torah until recently. The Jews of Africa should not allow conversion to disrupt their identity; they should not follow the path of divisions in extreme ways. Instead, the idea of giyur should strengthen our unity, even as we unite with mainstream Jewry.

On a final thought, what is the level of hope for the future of recognition and inclusiveness that we crave? The Israeli anthem “Hatikvah” conveys a promise through its lyrics, promising us, inclusive of African Jewry, that as long as the Jewish souls within us yearn toward Zion, our hope will not be lost.

The conversions in Côte d’Ivoire, Nigeria, Uganda, Cameroon, and other countries provide strong evidence that African Jewish recognition through Giyur is potent. Bezrat Hashem, more conversions will be seen in Africa in the coming years, and some of these communities will eventually rebuild themselves, having their own indigenous ordained rabbis who will create their Beit Din, thereby fast-tracking the universal requirements of reconnecting to Judaism.

The post The Awakening of African Jewry and the Call for Giyur. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

(All Photos Credit: ZIMU)

The World Zionist Congress finally incorporated the Uganda Federation as its second member in Africa after an unprecedented move that lasted over 8 years of relentless effort and determination. All thanks to Avram Mukibi, a vibrant Ugandan Jew from Mbale, a member of Kol Yisrael, who has embarked on this journey since 2018. When almost everyone had given up, his resilience and unwavering follow-up actions kept him and his board going for nearly a decade until the decision was approved by the Zionist general council.

This historic inclusion, after it made global headlines in January 2025, eventually led to the creation of the organization called ZIMU to represent Uganda as part of the World Zionist Organization. The Zionist Movement of Uganda, ZIMU, aims for true inclusivity among the Jews in the country irrespective of sects and affiliations. Besides giving the Abayudaya a voice in the Zionist Congress, one of its missions is making Judaism an officially recognized religion in Uganda. Another important one is raising voices to advocate for the needs of the Jews in the diaspora.

Founded in 1897, the Zionist Organization (ZO) evolved into the World Zionist Organization (WZO) in 1960. All along, it is a non-governmental entity that promotes Zionism. Since its inception, it has pursued initiatives tailored to the unity of the Jewish people, aliyah to Israel, furthering Jewish, Hebrew, and Zionist education, and many other projects. And with associate Jewish organizations across the globe working together objectively to strengthen the WZO, the recent admittance of the Uganda Jews signals a new frontier for Black African Jewry.

On the 9th of June, 2025, all roads led to Mukono in central Uganda, the host venue for the official launching ceremony of the Zionist Movement of Uganda, ZIMU. The town, located at the outskirts of the capital, Kampala, is home to both the Mukono Orthodox Jewish community and Tzyon Beit Hamitzvot. For lovers of tourism, beyond these synagogues, one can embark on a scenic retreat to Ssezibwa Falls for relaxation and sightseeing.

With guests arriving from Namanyonyi Synagogue in Mbale and other parts of the country, including the outgoing Israeli ambassador and invited non-Jewish representatives, the event kicked off with the singing of the Hatikvah followed by the Ugandan national anthem. The audience was seated comfortably under canopies, and the venue was well arranged, thanks to the combined effort of members of the host Jewish communities who worked tirelessly to ensure a successful event. As the occasion progressed, we listened to remarks from several selected speakers as they lent their voices to the purpose of the day.

Speaking on behalf of her community, Sarah Nakintu, who doubles as both synagogue coordinator and vice president of the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance (SAJA), motivated the crowd with a captivating speech. She thanked the ambassador for honoring the invitation and was full of praise for Avram for championing the movement for all these years.

“ZIMU is being launched as both a movement and a mission. A platform for engagement, empowerment, and education for Zionist values and identity across Uganda, Africa, and the world.”

Another speaker was the elder JJ Keki from the Kahal Kadosh Beth Shalom (KKBS) congregation in Nangolo, Eastern Uganda. In his speech, he briefly narrated the history of the Abayudaya Jews, tracing their origin to a man named Semei Kakungulu in 1919 who discovered two things from the locally translated Bible that triggered his conversion and that of his vast followers: Shabbat being the 7th day and the covenant of circumcision. But prior to his speech, we also listened to Orah Lawrence Ben Avraham, the gabbai of the Mukono Orthodox community. Lawrence is currently taking a rabbinical course in a rabbinical school in the United States.

The honorable Israeli ambassador, Michael Lotem, in his speech emphasized that even though today you’re joining the Zionist Federation, being part of a community is really what matters, where everyone can continue to practice the lifestyle of being a Jew.

However, the peak moment of the day was when Avram Mukibi, the nominated delegate to represent Uganda in the Zionist Congress, addressed the audience, who cheered him while he spoke. He stated that for the first time ever, the Ugandan Jewish communities will be represented at the 39th World Zionist Congress in Jerusalem. Their dream that one day Uganda will have a voice in the halls of Zionism has eventually been realized.

“Our message to the world is simple. The Jewish people are one. Whether they’re in Israel, the United Kingdom, the United States, or Uganda. We are bound by destiny and a common hope. The Zionist Congress, a forum where Jewish voices of all backgrounds come together to shape the future, is richer and stronger when it includes the full diversity of our global nations.”

Other highlights of the day included women entertaining the audience with beautiful songs in Hebrew, group photographs, people catching up with friends, the granting of personal interviews to reporters, and a delicious meal of local delicacies to mark this special day. What happens between now and the next Congress outing in Israel will provide the projectile path to successfully position the Ugandan Jews as their other counterparts, taking them from where they are at the moment to where they deserve to be in the future.

The post ZIMU Launched in Mukono: Uganda’s Historic Inclusion in the World Zionist Congress. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

On the 4th of May, 2025, a notable event unfolded in the religious landscape of Akwa Ibom State, as Jewish communities, religious leaders, government officials, and supporters came together to witness the inauguration of the Judaism Fellowship Initiative (JFI), Akwa Ibom State Chapter. This foremost Jewish organization in Nigeria hosted the event at the Jewish Central Synagogue in Uyo, the state capital. The event marked a turning point for Judaism in the state as it brought unity among the various Jewish communities in Akwa Ibom.

The inauguration ceremony, held on a Sunday, was preceded by a special Shabbat service beginning on Friday, the 2nd of May. Many national officials of the organization and other Jewish community members from across the country arrived early to join the Shabbat service at the Jewish Central Synagogue.

Upon his arrival at the synagogue premises, Yeshiayahu Ben Avraham, the National Public Relations Officer, praised the serene and quiet environment. He said, “The environment is so serene and quiet; it is actually a reserved area for a Jewish synagogue. You can learn here without distractions.” That statement inspired the idea of establishing a Jewish library in the near future.

The next morning, the synagogue was at full capacity for a joyful shacharit service that began around 8 AM. In the absence of a Sefer Torah, the prayer lasted for a couple of hours, getting to the Torah service, which was conducted using a khumash. Just before the Musaf service, we heard a brief yet impactful teaching from the highly respected elder from Rivers State. One of the highlights of the Dvar Torah delivered by him, Yerimyahu, the National Vice President of JFI, was the dangers of Lashon Hara (evil speech).

“Lashon Hara has divided many Jewish communities. It is the reason for the destruction of the Second Temple. Therefore, the Jews of Akwa Ibom State, who have decided to unite through the Judaism Fellowship Initiative, should refrain from it to foster growth.”

The main ceremonial event, which took place on Sunday, the 4th of May, had guests from all over Akwa Ibom State trooping into the Jewish Central Synagogue to witness the historic day. The occasion showcased the vibrant Jewish culture of the host congregation and demonstrated the strong unity shared by visiting communities that graced the special day.

During the opening speech of the national president, presented by Yerimyahu Eyong on his behalf, he commended the State Chairman, Rishon Ben Avraham, for successfully uniting the Jewish communities in Akwa Ibom under one umbrella. He recognized the formation of an executive council that encompasses diverse communities and brings governmental recognition to Judaism in the state.

Some members of the State Security Service, who were present at the event, commended the move. They tasked the newly appointed JFI state chairman to lead the Jewish people well, urging the community to live peacefully, avoid crime, and promote moral values in their neighborhoods.

The Beth Harachaman Jewish congregation, located along the road leading to the state international airport, was also present. The community was represented by their leader, Yerimyahu Ukpong, who expressed gratitude to the national officers of the JFI for inaugurating the new chapter in Akwa Ibom State. He emphasized the importance of continued collaboration between the national body and the state chapter. Then to the host, he praised the resilience of the Jewish Central Synagogue Uyo, having wrapped up its first phase, from a rented building to a permanent space.

When it was time for refreshments, local kosher delicacies were served, along with traditional palm wine. Everyone ate to their satisfaction, enjoying the warmth and unity of the occasion. Acting in the capacity of the newly inaugurated State Chairman, I thanked everyone who contributed to the success of the event. Appreciating the efforts of the national body in my speech, I stated that it’s not what the national body of JFI will do for us, but what we will do for ourselves using the JFI platform that will ultimately bring the change we desire as a community.

For the Jewish communities in Akwa Ibom State, the inauguration is not just the beginning of unity but the birth of a spiritual family. The Jewish Central Synagogue, Uyo—the host synagogue—was amazed at the success of the event. Elder Aaron Ben Avraham, chairperson of the community, praised the unity he witnessed, noting how everyone contributed financially and in every other way, even at short notice, to make the event a success.

In the end, just as the sun was setting, the event concluded with the singing of Hatikvah. The inauguration of the state chapter of the prestigious Nigerian Jewish Organization known as JFI was not just another event held in Uyo; it was the lighting of a flame—of Torah, of chessed (kindness), and tikkun olam (repairing the world).

The post Historic Inauguration of Judaism Fellowship Initiative (JFI) Akwa Ibom State Chapter. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.