A few months back at a staff meeting, Toto’s “Africa” was playing in the background. This is probably one of the most often misquoted songs out there. I’ve seen it quoted as “I guess it rains down in Africa” and as “I kissed the rains down in Africa.” It’s supposed to be “I bless the rains down in Africa” but many of the MKs I knew sang it as “I miss the rains down in Africa.” At this meeting, someone asked if the song could be changed, stating that nobody ever missed the rains down in Africa.

The thought flashed through my mind, and probably came out of my mouth was, “If you’d seen them, you’d miss them.”

I do.

I loved the rains in Africa.

My first published story was about African rains. I’ll try to paint you a picture of them with words, even though it won’t do them justice.

Imagine it hasn’t rained for months. The rivers are dry beds. The grass is golden and brittle. The ground is packed hard and dotted with huge cracks. No grains are growing. There are no flowers or fruits and vegetables anywhere. You’ve almost used up the food you set aside for this dry season, and there’s no Walmart nearby to pick up more.

And the heat is oppressive. A heavy, dry weight leaning on your shoulders. It’s just as bad inside as outside. Few people have air condition, and many don’t have fans to circulate the hot air. Some homes don’t even have windows.

So you just find a rare shady spot and sit. Exhausted. Overheated. You just sit. Just waiting.

And then it begins to rain.

At first, the ground is so hard that it can’t soak up the water. But you can.

I remember standing out in a cold African rain, just soaking in and truly enjoying the coolness of the rains.

It always seemed like it was just the next day when the world turned green and bright and colorful again as the plants began to flower and the grass returned and the trees woke up. 

However, in reality, dry season wasn’t quite over. In my short story, I equated the mango rains with God’s love and promise. These are just a short series of rains to wake up the mango trees and get them ready for when rainy season really will come a couple of weeks later. They were just a taste of hope. A reminder of the good things still to come, and a promise that the world hasn’t been forgotten.

Maybe that’s why I love rain so much now. Because it reminds me of that promise. Of that hope. I once heard my uncle’s band play a song that struck and stuck with me: “Help can’t help tomorrow if you give up today. So hold on a little longer, ‘cause help is on the way.” We may be in a serious dry season right now. But God hasn’t forgotten us, and there’s a rainy season ahead. We just need to sit and wait a little bit longer. It’ll be worth it.