Originally published on Kulanu 2025 Spring Magazine.

Pesach, which comes once a year, is celebrated as one of the three festivals when everyone is expected to appear before Hashem as commanded in the Torah. While the Temple stood, people continued to move to Jerusalem,
some traveling by caravans accompanied by their households in honor of these seasons of remembrance that would be passed on from generation to generation. Though the Temple is no longer present, and with more Jewish people living outside of Israel, our synagogues and homes have played a significant role in helping us keep these sacred traditions alive.

Uganda, in the eastern part of Africa, recently marked a century-long practice of Judaism, and is also experiencing growth in Jewish observance. This growth is evident in the opening up of new Jewish synagogues and communities in different enclaves around the country. Also, this development is occurring at a rate that surpasses that of the surrounding, closest neighboring countries in specific parameters. This is sparked by many factors, including marriages, births, and an increase in the number of new converts across the country.

The Abayudaya, meaning “the people of Judah” in the local language, are well-spread across the federation, from its headquarters in Mbale in the east to Apac in the far north, as well as in the capital of Kampala and other parts of the central regions. However, as their numbers increase, so does the challenge of navigating the corridors of living and practicing Judaism. Most of them reside in communal dwellings near each other in rural settlements, where they primarily engage in farming to grow their crops. But since the country is landlocked, it depends solely on neighboring Kenya to source affordable Jewish products like matzah and wine for Pesach.

Challenges of Locating Pesach Food

Being an eight-day festival marked by the symbolic food of matzah instead of challah, celebrating Passover demands adequate preparation and resources. It’s a time for acquiring new utensils or ensuring the ones you have are kosher before the festival begins. But while there’s a way of doing all this, the true difficulty lies in getting
supplies for Pesach. Nonetheless, the resilience and persistence of these Jewish communities are demonstrated in their ability to celebrate the feasts yearly amidst logistical and halachic challenges.

This year, 5785/2025, as Jews around the world gathered to remember the Exodus from Egypt, Jewish communities that are spread across vast rural and semi-urban areas of Uganda were presented with familiar challenges. Chief among them was the struggle to access two essential symbols of the holiday: matzah (unleavened
bread) and kosher wine, both crucial to the rituals of the seder night.

In many parts around the globe, all it takes is a trip to the supermarket if one needs to get Pesach supplies. However, in Uganda and most other African countries, the situation is different. Rarely do people manufacture kosher-for-Pesach products locally or import them in significant quantities. This has been the situation for several
years, making communities either depend on different sources, stick with expensive imports, or make difficult halachic compromises.

Kulanu’s Pesach-Preparation Support

Every challenge has a solution, and, as humans, we are naturally inclined to find solutions to the problems we encounter repeatedly. Normally, everyone would have considered finding a solution for their family and community. Fortunately, one unique individual, Sarah Nakintu, sought a solution to the “matzah drought” affecting her community of Mukono in the central region of Uganda, as well as other communities nationwide. Aside from being the founder and chairperson of the Shalom Women’s Development Network (SWODN), Sarah’s baking
experience and leadership skills launched one of the first efforts to mass-produce matzah for Ugandan Jewish communities. In 2023 it was done on a small scale due to limited resources. The baking of matzah requires strict adherence to Jewish laws. It is also dependent on the use of special equipment, trained supervision, and
rigorous hygiene that ought to be observed.

Recognizing these barriers, we asked Kulanu to step in. Since 1995, Kulanu has had a longstanding partnership with Ugandan Jewry, providing resources, education, financial assistance, and connections to the wider Jewish
world. When the request was brought to Kulanu in 2024 for making matzah on a larger scale, Kulanu helped with what turned out to be a “test run,” with an outstanding turnout, also led by Sarah Nakintu. This year, Pesach of 5785, Kulanu did more than just provide matzah for a few. They sponsored a full-scale matzah baking operation as
well as the making of kosher wine. These projects involved 22 Jewish communities representing about 95% of Uganda’s congregations.

In a historic collaboration, these 22 communities from the eastern, central, and northern parts of Uganda came together for a collective religious operation. The movement resembled a spiritual pilgrimage that saw people travel from near and very far destinations to reach the designated baking center in Mukono. Each community brought its own volunteers to take part in what felt like a national Jewish campaign. There was a tangible sense of purpose in the air as everyone joined the effort of mass matzot-baking to ensure it was widely available during the festival.

“I traveled all the way from the northern region to this place (263 km or 163 miles). Pesach has been a challenge for several years. Our financial resources are limited. Getting matzah into Apac is expensive. But, recently, Mukono has emerged as a place where we can get large quantities of matzah for our community,” Joram, beaming with excitement, told me. Jeremiah Aliro, who also hails from the northern region, shared some
intriguing insights: “My community is known as Sharei Tzadek. There are now two communities in Apac — one is Conservative, and the other is Orthodox. We’re so grateful to Kulanu for their support to make sure our communities can have matzah.”

The Abayudaya “Matzah-Bake”

From further discussion, I found out that the name of their district, which used to be known as Apac in northern Uganda, has recently been changed to Kwania district; eventually the community had to change their name from Apac Jewish community to Kwania Jewish community. In fact, we had a lot to talk about, as the event was two days of non-stop matzah baking.

Two temporary baking stations were set up: one inside the building and another outside under a canopy. Each station was equipped with a set of mixing tools, a table, and a fireplace. For those baking inside, a big industrial oven powered by electricity was used, while a set of flat pans served the outdoor bakers. The pans were heated
beneath by firewood, upon which the mixed, flattened, and perforated dough was placed.

Each baking session was headed by an experienced supervisor at the mixing and rolling station, and by an overall instructor moving through all the stations to coordinate the entire process. The baking was done in a highly coordinated manner: wheat flour was measured carefully, water was stored separately and used promptly, and the clock was meticulously watched. Teams, usually made up of people from two to three synagogues, worked in rotation, ensuring that every batch was completed within an 18-minute window. While they baked, the women sang songs in Hebrew to uplift themselves and strengthen each other. This group was mostly women from the Tzyon Beit Hamitzvot Jewish Community in Mukono. They added to the overall effort of the mass baking of matzot for the rest of the communities, since the other communities were only able to bring one or two volunteers, and the hosting Mukono women outnumbered the other delegations.

Another unique aspect that the Mukono Jewish community displayed is their experience in making local kosher wine. In a smart move to avoid dependency on overseas kosher wine, their community has been making its wine for over five years. In parallel with the matzah baking, a supervised process used grapes to produce local kosher-for-Pesach wine. The supervisor was a 75-year-old grandmother and chief brewer, Yechoved Ssozi, who, along with her son and daughter, helped coordinate efforts for this historic wine-making for Pesach. And what was the result? Enough kosher wine to serve at communal seders across the country!

Live Online “Matzah-Bake” with Kulanu

On this same historical record-breaking day, Kulanu sponsored a special speakers series on Zoom anchored by Molly Levine and Rabbanit Bonita Sussman, with Rabbi Ari Greenspan as a teacher and presenter. Thirty minutes into the program, Sarah Nakintu joined as a presenter on the ground, providing live footage of the Uganda matzah baking to the international Jewish audience in real time. During her presentation, she moved through the venue, introducing the groups who were baking, and explaining the baking procedure from start to finish. You can watch the Zoom presentation here: bit.ly/MatzahBakeZoom.

Following the Zoom, which had a significant participation, it was time to take a break and have dinner. With so much left to bake, many would stay up late and continue their baking the next morning. A group led by a young chazzan in Mukono, Moshe Ben Avraham, baked until around midnight before calling it a day. In the morning, there was a Shacharit prayer, followed by breakfast, and then the matzah baking continued for the second day. The objective was to get as much matzah as possible, which would be distributed according to community sizes.

At the conclusion of a long day, their perseverance was clearly evident, as an abundant amount of hand-baked matzot was presented before us, neatly packed in elegant white boxes piled on a table. Shortly before that, the
produced wine previously stored in a big drum was carefully bottled and labeled “Shalom Wines Uganda.” Then it was time to distribute the matzot to all the Jewish communities participating in the event. From Kwania to Beth Shalom in Kampala to Luwero and Namutumba, and from the Namanyonyi Jewish community to Kawempe, two boxes of matzah and bottles of wine were given. Others include the Nasenyi and Buseta Jewish community, Nangolo, Putti, and Beit Shalom Nabweru. No doubt, with matzah and wine in hand, the seder night would come
alive in various synagogues and community halls.

Across Uganda, as Shabbat ended on Saturday night, Pesach began and the rituals of the seder unfolded — sitting around tables, washing hands, eating bitter herbs, recounting the Exodus story, children asking the four questions, and singing traditional songs such as Dayenu and Avadim Hayinu. The homemade matzah was crisp and meaningful. The wine was sweet with the taste of effort and hope.

Yosef, a representative from the Namanyonyi Synagogue in Mbale who took part in the baking at Mukono, expressed: “Kulanu really gave Uganda’s Jews massive support by providing matzah, wine, some cash for festival meals, and even our transportation to Mukono.”

In Mukono, the Tzyon Beit Hamitzvot Jewish Community hosted over 70 people in a vibrant communal first seder night. How heartwarming to see the locally made wine raised joyfully for each of the four blessings, a symbol of freedom created by their own hands. Everyone dressed up in colorful outfits as they graced the occasion, seated around the table enjoying a sumptuous meal at the end. With matzah and wine in abundance, they and many others were also able to host both nights’ seders comfortably. Each community found its rhythm, but all were united
by a shared sense of purpose: the desire to be Jewish and observant.

Nevertheless, with the success of the matzah and wine projects, communities across the country are already looking ahead. There have been calls and suggestions to continue to enhance the baking to halachic standards and make it an annual event, along with training programs for youth in kosher food preparation and the beginning of local production of other Jewish essentials.

For many, baking matzah and drinking kosher wine are more than rituals — they provide a profound sense of identity. It is evident that Judaism thrives in Africa with dignity, resilience, and strength, even in the face of limited access. The Jewish communities of Uganda, with the help of Kulanu, turned logistical hardship into religious triumphs. They built bridges across synagogues, strengthening inter-communal sect relationships, and reminded the world that freedom is not just a memory — it’s a mission.

The post Matzah, Wine, and Unity: Uganda’s Unforgettable Pesach Journey first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

Two mountain communities join the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance in a historic celebration.

Pesach, annually observed as a festival of freedom, is a time that unifies Jews globally as they commemorate the departure from Egypt—a story of enslavement, pain, perseverance, and, at the end, redemption. For those who identify as Jewish, the observance of Pesach serves as a significant marker of Jewish identity around the world. This year, my personal journey in celebration of Pesach led me to unexpected heights—the highest peak I have reached, up on the chilly mountains of central Kenya.

My trip was part of a wider East African tour, following a vibrant matzah baking event in Uganda sponsored by Kulanu, which brought together 22 Jewish communities. At the end of the two days of non-stop matzah baking in Mokuno, I drew up an itinerary to cross from Uganda into Kenya using the Malaba border crossing. Originally setting out to visit the Jewish community in Kasuku, I stumbled upon another isolated congregation on one of the hills of Molo municipality during my journey back. Both communities are nestled amidst gentle, undulating hills of the Great Rift Valley passage.

Shortly before midday, I found myself across the border into Kenya— and the first part of my itinerary would be a taxi to Nakuru, the 4th biggest town with an urban population of 570,000, according to the 2019 Kenya Population Census. But before we got to this unique town, which has surprising Jewish parameters dating many years ago, our route took us through Eldoret, which I was told was the hometown of the current leader of the country. Eldoret, approximately 85 kilometers westward to the border, is a small and compact town with a buzzing lifestyle that developed during the colonial era, around the 1940s.

From Nakuru, my next destination was Ol Kalou, a place we arrived at after a considerable climb along an uphill path to reach the highlands. Throughout the journey, prior to entering Nakuru County, the stunning beauty of East Africa’s landscape unfolds before one’s eyes. Uganda, known as the pearl of Africa, boasts a stunning array of topography, while Kenya offers its own captivating land features, showcasing the remarkable geography of the Rift Valley country. Crossing into Kenya from Uganda, I immediately noticed the shift from Uganda’s bustling centers to Kenya’s serene and expansive landscapes. The rolling hills, cool temperature, and breathtaking views created an unforgettable setting for my next Pesach experience.

After Ol Kalou, I proceeded to Kasuku, the location of Kehillat Yisrael Synagogue. The journey took approximately 50 minutes, but we experienced an additional one and a half hours of delay due to a road accident. Thankfully, the road accident did not claim any lives, Baruch Hashem. However, by the time I traced my way to the community, they were having kiddush and then a sumptuous Shabbat erev meal, which I joined. Having previously researched them on the internet and even authored a spotlight article about the Kasuku Jewish community, it was a heartwarming experience to finally meet them. We sang Brikat Hamazon together before retiring to bed in the chilly mountain night.

Upon waking in the morning, I was greeted by a vivid understanding of the topography around me, having arrived the previous night under the cover of darkness. The synagogue, a modest square-shaped structure, is situated on the Gathudia side of Kasuku, perched on a hilly upland that offers a view of the Aberdare range of mountains stretching across the horizon before you. One of the characteristic features of the rift valley regions is lakes and green-grassed rolling valleys of different peak heights. At the foot of the 165 km Aberdare mountain range, the waters of Lake Olbolossat are clearly visible from the Synagogue, a distance of about 10 km.

At the end of the Shacharit service, we gathered again in the home of the leader of the community, Yosef Ben Avraham Njogu, a dedicated leader from the Kenyan Kikuyu tribe. The gathering includes women, younger girls, boys, youth, and elders of the community— all of whom appear cheerful as Pesach preparations are set to begin later in the evening, after Havdallah. Instructions were dished out by Yosef regarding how the men and women would split roles to save time, ensuring the Seder night begins as early as possible.

As night descended, the Kasuku community gathered for the first seder night— an evening filled with joy, songs, and stories of the exodus. Before now, we witnessed the spirit of unity and respect for authority, as the men and women jointly came together to prepare for the festival meals. Celebrating the Seder at an elevation of 8,000 feet above sea level added a unique experience to the event. Picture yourself on a chilly evening, enveloped by the vibrant energy of Jewish worshippers in a remote setting, with towering mountains and various peaks surrounding you.

First of all, the best spot to take shelter from the cold night was an enclosed compartment meant for the kitchen space, even though the social hall under construction behind the synagogue building offers more space. We then brought some local stoves into the rectangular-shaped room, burning charcoal to maintain the room’s warmth. We sat together around an extended table laden with symbolic food, including maror (bitter herbs), charoset (sandwich), and, of course, the matzah, which they purchased through the synagogue in Nairobi, capital of Kenya. The community, in full attendance, paid attention as Moshe Ben Avraham, a hazan and one of the sons of the community leader, read the haggadah, the ancient text that tells the story of the Israelites’ liberation from slavery and oppression in Egypt.

By the time we reached the part where we sang the traditional Dayenu—”It would have been enough”—I couldn’t help but reflect on how much the community had achieved. Despite being in a remote part of the rift valley, they had developed their practice of Judaism as fast as they could, thanks to their faith and resilience. Their unity, which has grown over the years, was reflected on their faces as we recited “Next Year in Y’rushalahim” at the end of the Seder.

I spent the next four unforgettable days in Kasuku, using the first three days to interact and expand my connections and knowledge, followed by a final day trip for an adventure on Lake Olbolossat, where I explored one of Kenya’s hidden natural treasures. In the company of Moshe and Samuel, members of the Kehillat Israel community, we set off for an afternoon adventure along the serene waters of the lake. The skies smiled at us with sunny weather and a blue heaven with white floating clouds, perfect for photography.

Lake Olbolosat, named after a Maasai tribe, extends around 42 kilometers and possesses a narrow width throughout its course. As the only natural lake in Kenya’s central region around Nyahururu, its waters serve as an essential resource for local residents, providing water for agriculture, cattle, and daily activities. The lake is also home to an array of wildlife, which includes a giant population of hippos and over 300 species of birds.

The area was silent as we watched the lake from its green-grassed banks, where some sheep were grazing. After some hesitations on my side, we got in a little wooden boat, expertly paddled by its driver, and slid softly across the shallow waters. The view was wonderful: the far-off Aberdare mountains rising majestically into the cloudy heights. One could readily see a vibrant, dispersed settlement at the base of the mountain range. Every so often as we sailed, we would stop to search the reeds for the elusive hippos who live in this lake.

Although the hippos remained shy that afternoon, the boat ride was filled with laughter, storytelling, and an appreciation of the deep connection between the Jewish community of Kasuku and the natural environment that surrounds them. It dawned on me how their proximity to the natural world reflected the agricultural lifestyle of ancient Israel—a reminder that Jewish life, wherever it thrives, stays closely tied to the land and its blessings. To attract visitors to their community, Moshe said they are considering putting on their tourism cap to do things differently.

“If we can organize an online platform where we can show people what they can do for fun if they come to Kasuku, then we can attract international visitors. And if they’re Jewish, then we would be more than pleased to host them in our synagogue.”

Of course, looking inward and presenting things differently in attractive ways can guarantee positive outcomes. Many travelers experience tremendous fulfillment when their trips are intertwined with adventures and tourism. There are multiple things to do in and around Lake Olbolossat, according to Moshe, that would give visitors worthwhile, unimaginable fun. But however, the need to prioritize some forms of marine conservation was brought forward, which considered the timely removal of plastic bottles around the vicinity of the lake. Nevertheless, due to the distance to the city center, if there is hope for industrial recycling, they would be required to gather it up in a collection spot before moving the collected waste plastics to recyclers. Then, as the sun dipped lower behind the hills, we returned to the community, refreshed by the experience, and for me—ready to continue my exit out of Kenya the following day.

Traveling in the capacity of the general secretary of SAJA, a pan-African Jewish alliance formed some two and a half years ago, I had some unresolved matters to address. In Abidjan, the capital of Côte d’Ivoire, we established the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance, which initially consisted of 10 nations. Subsequent to its establishment, nations such as Zambia, Gabon, and Congo have formally joined the alliance, which aims to clearly unite and help in rebuilding Jewish communities across the continent. With the exception of Kenya, one of the Alliance’s initial founding members, practically every member nation has benefited from the Gelfand Award for Food Security, which is one of SAJA’s ongoing agricultural project grants.

The unfortunate situation stems from weak leadership in the country, which appears unwilling to engage a significant population of Black Kenyan Jews. The alliance’s formation aimed to foster unity among various communities and facilitate borderless online communication throughout the continent. Therefore, meeting with over 50 members of the Kehillat Israel Synagogue, who have excellent potential for growth and expansion, provided an opportunity to formally educate them about the SAJ Alliance. At the end of the discussion, they enthusiastically embraced the alliance, securing their rightful position as Kenyan SAJA-affiliated communities. Everyone expressed hope as they became part of the Sub-Saharan African Jewish Alliance (SAJA) family. No doubt, with the guarantee of continued support, including grants for food security, Jewish education, and community development, their Kenyan voices will grow louder, stronger, and more radiant on the African Jewish stage.

Just like the community in Kasuku, the Elburgon Jews, a small town perched amid the rolling hills and forest of the rift valley in the Molo municipality, also took their spot on the SAJA membership. Eventually, they became the second Jewish community, deeply rooted in their mountainous environment, to join the expanding Pan-African Jewish alliance. Upon my arrival at their community, the Elburgon Jews greeted me with warmth, and we shared matzah along with a meal of potatoes and maize, complemented by freshly prepared boiled milk from their cows.

Before leaving the following day, the younger members took me on a hike up the highest peak surrounding their community. The climb was steep and invigorating, offering sweeping vistas of meandering green hills, fertile farms, and distant forested hills. Midway, we explored a hidden cave in the hillside— a place of wonder and history. The area surrounding the rift valley remains fertile, just as it was several decades ago when one of Rothschild’s daughters farmed this land long before Kenya gained independence.

While in Elburgon, I learned so much about the nearby Nakuru, a historic town with some rich Jewish history. Although I didn’t travel to Nakuru again for further exploration, I instead headed towards the border at Malaba, postponing that visit for another trip. Most importantly, I gathered stories that illuminated Kenya’s Jewish past. Nakuru is home to the famous 1956 synagogue and a nearby Jewish cemetery, where European Jewish refugees— survivors of war and displacement— once found safety. These two important Jewish monuments are truly a reminder of the global journeys that have intertwined Jewish lives with African lands.

It is particularly noteworthy that Gustav Kramer, a German Jew who arrived as a refugee in 1938, rapidly ascended to prominence and was elected mayor of Nakuru in 1955, during which he laid the foundation stone for the Nakuru synagogue. In 1941, the congregation formed and held prayers in private homes before constructing a proper synagogue in 1956. But while all this has become history, the shadow of the once thriving Nakuru Jewish community still lives on after its synagogue building was sold and the proceeds handed to the Nairobi Synagogue.

Ultimately, after my enriching time in Kenya, I journey westward to Eldoret and towards the Malaba border crossing into Uganda. This Pesach journey revealed to me more than just breathtaking landscapes and inspiring communities. Passover in Kenya’s highlands brought to mind that Judaism is alive in Africa— not only in numbers but in heart. From mountain peaks to valley lakes, from Shabbat candles and seders in Kasuku to isolated farmers in Elburgon, our people continue to sanctify time and pass the torch onward. The journey continues— upward, forward, and always toward freedom.

The post Celebrating Passover at 8,000 Feet in Kenya’s Great Rift Valley. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.

Pesach is a time of year, a season of historical remembrance, in which all Jews are obligated to immerse themselves. This year’s festival, an eight-day Jewish holiday as usual, was observed from the 15th to the 22nd of the Hebrew month of Nissan and honors the redemption of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt. It is a moment when we honor a Torah tradition that has been transmitted through generations of Jewish families. Brothers and sisters from various communities across Nigeria joined the global Jewish community in celebrating the feast to its fullest. In the central Jewish synagogue in Uyo, Akwa Ibom, Southern Nigeria, we are excited to celebrate our first Pesach in our newly donated permanent synagogue.

A number of weeks in advance, preparations for Pesach were initiated. Due to the fact that Pesach fell on Motzaei Shabbat, Eliyahu Ben Avraham inquired about the best way to celebrate this year’s Pesach during one of our Arvit services held in the synagogue. As the Seder night comes on Motzaei Shabbat, our chief cantor, Immanuel Gadi, stated that this is one of the most difficult Pesach celebrations that we have ever had. He went into detail about the search for chametz that would take place on Thursday evening and the subsequent burning of it on Friday morning.

During the Rosh Chodesh of Nissan Shacharit service, we had a thorough discussion on how to go about koshering our homes according to the Sephardic minhag. And as tradition demands, before the commencement of the feast, members worked tirelessly to clean their homes, removing all chametz (leavened foods) and replacing them with kosher-for-Pesach staples. The excitement was evident as families looked forward to staying together from Erev Shabbat until Monday night because of the two Yom Tov that would be held in a communal way.

I had a moment of feeling down when my wife, Hadassah Bat Sarah, asked, “How do we cope if it rains, as our synagogue walls are only half complete? Would it be safe for the children, as the synagogue will be cold?” I brightened up when I remembered the words of one of my teachers. When things seemed hard, he used to say, “Hashem knows.”

As preparation got underway, we came together to clean the synagogue premises and to construct places where families would stay during the Shabbat and Yom Tov to avoid traveling on those festive days. We hosted lectures to familiarize our members with the preparations for Pesach. Later on Thursday evening, I took it upon myself to call every family leader in our community to remind them of the mitzvah of Bedikat Chametz. I remember Elder Ozni Ben Yehoshua saying to me, “Thank you so much, Rishon, for the call. I almost forgot that it has to be Thursday night.” And similarly, on Friday morning, the Gabbai of the synagogue, Immanuel Ben Ozni, called me and said, “I am also doing a mitzvah by calling our people—including you—to remember to burn your chametz.”

Historic First Seder Night.

Historical, this is the first ever Passover seder since the Jewish Central synagogue Uyo wrapped up its first phase, from a Rented Building to a Permanent Space. On the first night of Pesach, our community gathered at the synagogue for a communal Seder. Each family sat around a table designated for them, while the single men and women chose a family to join. Each member had their Seder plate adorned with an egg, celery for karpas, romaine lettuce for the bitter herb (maror), and the charoset, which we made using dates, walnuts, cinnamon spices, wine, and cloves—according to the Sephardic minhag we follow. On the first night of Pesach, our community gathered at the synagogue for a communal Seder. Each family sat around a table designated for them, while the single men and women chose a family to join. Each member had their Seder plate adorned with an egg, celery for karpas, romaine lettuce for the bitter herb (maror), and the charoset, which we made using dates, walnuts, cinnamon spices, wine, and cloves.

Each family table was adorned with matzot, kosher wine, and a Haggadah to guide them through the Seder. We experienced immense joy as we sang and recited Hallel. Many individuals, including my wife, expressed to me that they had never encountered such a delightful Pesach Seder. They believe the experience is significantly better compared to the previous year, thanks to the freedom the synagogue now has as its own landlord, liberated from the bondage of a rented property!

A particularly unforgettable moment occurred when our children joyfully moved about with the Afikomen in a sack after it was discovered, prompting the parents to inquire, “Where are you coming from?” They replied, “We are coming from Mizraim.” Then someone inquired once more, “Where are you headed?” to which they responded, “We’re on our way to Jerusalem.” The synagogue resonated with joy, emotion, and a sense of connection to our ancestors. The day was quite lengthy, beginning with Shabbat and extending through the Seder until approximately midnight, when all concluded.

More Celebrations- a Brit Milah!

On the morning of Yom Tov, after the Shacharit service, we had a Brit Milah. The Gabbai of the community, Immanuel Ozni, brought his son into the covenant of Avraham Avinu by circumcising him on the eighth day. Coincidentally, the day’s Haftorah (Joshua 5:2–6:1) also talked about the circumcision of the Israelites. The community was overjoyed that such an event took place during a festive period giving us more reason to celebrate and have plenty of memories to keep.

We also held special reading classes for the children to improve their Ivrit. I recall Mrs. Jackrabin, in one of the lectures on “How to Make the Best Sephardic Charoset,” explaining her formula: “I use walnut, cinnamon spice, nutmeg spice, kosher wine, cloves, and a splash of orange blossom water.” Like everyone else, I was astonished to learn about this recipe and looked forward to trying it next year.

Throughout the holiday, our community arranged various events to keep everyone engaged. The second Seder night was equally interesting, as we shared personal stories that connected us to the Passover redemption story. We also used the holiday to discuss our African traditions and customs that have Jewish roots.

Family Unity at the Seder and Beyond!

I remember my good brother and friend, Raphael Ben Yisrael, telling me during a Pesach discussion: “Rishon, never forget that it is a family Haggadah—written on the Haggadah. It is a family thing. Make sure you always carry your family along.”

I was reminded of his words as I looked around and saw families sitting around their Seder tables. I saw unity, bonds, laughter, and merriment in each family. Families brought different traditional dishes. The aroma of homemade charoset wafted through the air. These and many more experiences showed me the unity that Pesach brings to families.

During Chol Hamoed (the intermediate days of the holiday), members returned home but came to the synagogue for Shacharit, Mincha, or Arvit services. Despite the high cost of transportation, people turned up for the programs we had.

Most families also hosted festive meals in their homes, inviting other members. Our community chairman, Elder Aaron Ben Avraham, called me on one of the Chol Hamoed days and asked, “Can you spare some time to join my family at the beach?” I was excited. It echoed in my mind that Pesach truly unites families. He smiled when I said, “My chairman, I never knew you had this flexing in you.” We had a great time and used the opportunity to discuss Torah.

In Conclusion, this Pesach, our community came together to celebrate a timeless story—a story of redemption, a story that attests that Hashem is the Creator of the Universe with the whole hundreds of wonders He unleashed unto Pharaoh and his people. Real freedom comes with some peace of mind, being able to be in control, just as the freedom we felt celebrating right inside our own synagogue property for the first time. I was inwardly scared that rain might fall, splashing through the half-built walls of the synagogue. I made a special prayer that G-d should not let that happen, as it would affect the people. I also hoped we would be able to complete the walls soon. But bezrat Hashem, throughout the two Seder nights, there was no rain, and the people were able to sleep without inconvenience.

The post Celebrating Pesach in Jewish Central Synagogue, Uyo, Akwa Ibom, Nigeria. first appeared on African Jewish Voices.