Further Into the Rurals

To keep pace with the increase, the branch office was moved to a four-story house at Zwartenhovenbrug Street. A shoe shop, called Fathma, occupied the first floor. On the second floor were the Kingdom Hall and kitchen, the third floor served as the branch office and missionary home, and the top floor was used as the literature depot.

From this location, Muriel Simmonite, then 28 years old, made regular preaching trips to Onverdacht and Paranam, villages about 20 miles [30 km] south of Paramaribo. “Early in the morning, we got a free ride on a bus that brought laborers to a bauxite mine,” remembers Helen Voigt, who accompanied Muriel once a week. “Then we preached to people living near the mine, ate our sandwich at noon, preached more, and rode back with the workmen. Tired but satisfied, we reached home around six at night.”

In time Muriel contacted calm and slender Rudie Pater, who accepted the truth. But Rudie wanted to spread the truth farther and had the transportation​—a big Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

He recollects: “Muriel went to Paranam early and worked all day. Then, in the evening, I rode the Harley to Paranam and met Muriel, and we conducted more Bible studies. Close to midnight, Muriel jumped on the back of the Harley, and we roared home.”

Change in Oversight

By the end of 1954, several changes had taken place. Shedrick and Wilma Poyner, productive missionaries, had left the country. Max and Althea Garey had moved to Curaçao, where they worked ten more years as missionaries before returning to the United States. The first local special pioneers, Hendrik Kerk and Melie Dikmoet, daughter of shoemaker Julian Dikmoet, had been sent to new territories. And Burt Simmonite’s wife, Connie, was expecting a baby, necessitating the sending of another missionary who could in time relieve Brother Simmonite as branch overseer.

So in November 1954, Burt handed the country’s oversight to Dirk Stegenga, a timid Dutch missionary only 22 years of age. Needless to say, it took Brother Stegenga a while to get his bearings.

Breaking Into Missionary Life

“Two days after my arrival,” recollects Dirk, now 57 years old, “Burt and Connie left for circuit work, and Muriel was abroad. So there I was, jittery and alone in that big home.”

Then, about the time Dirk was dozing off, a piercing sound, eeeh, eeeh, ripped through his bedroom. A whistling steam train was rounding the curve next to the house. When the train picked up speed again, all street noise was drowned out by the engine’s shu, shu, shu. Greasy smoke and fiery sparks filled the street, the house, and his room. “Next,” continues Dirk, “I looked agape as dancing sparks landed on the 100-percent nylon shirts I had brought from New York and then burned right through them, leaving lots of holes in all my shirts. I felt miserable.”

The following days brought more heat, noise, smoke, sparks, and holes in his shirts. “Then, to make things worse,” adds Dirk, “I saw big rats scurrying through the kitchen. By that time I could not handle it anymore.” Fortunately, Helen Voigt took pity on the lonely missionary and made him feel welcome by providing meals for him. “Helen,” says Dirk gratefully, “was like a mother.”

However, after the other missionaries returned, Dirk was soon comfortable, and guided by Burt, he buckled down to work.

Some months later, Dirk and Burt turned their attention to a challenging territory: the untouched rain forest. ‘Could we get a foothold there?’ they wondered. To find out, in September 1955 they packed their bags, boarded the steam train, and rode into the thick forest. An exciting chapter in Kingdom preaching began.

Awake! Correspondents in Hostile Territory

So far, none of the rain forest’s inhabitants, Amerindians and Bush Negroes, had accepted the truth. A few Bush Negroes, though, first heard the Kingdom message in 1947 when talks were given in a soldiers’ barracks, where the Bush Negroes lodged while visiting the capital.

Also, in 1950, two brothers visited Gansé, a village of 1,300 Bush Negroes on the Suriname River. But the Moravian pastor there trumpeted, “Two false prophets selling books!” Then, just after the Witnesses placed four books at the hut of an elderly man, hundreds of incited church members chased the Witnesses back to the river. The brothers scrambled into their canoe and paddled away, barely escaping being lynched.

Now, five years later, that event was on the mind of both Burt and Dirk as the train chugged into Kabel. It was the last station, two hours’ paddling distance from their final destination, Gansé. How would they be treated this time? To prevent hostile reactions, the branch had written the village chief asking permission for two Awake! correspondents to visit Gansé to gather information for an article on Bush Negroes. The chieftain had replied that the correspondents were welcome.

That day, when Burt and Dirk arrived by canoe in Gansé, the chieftain and his assistants were on hand to meet them. “We were received like royals,” recounts Dirk. “They showed us our lodging place, one of the best houses in the village, then escorted us to the river and politely turned their backs toward us until we had finished bathing. After that, we socialized with them while Burt, who spoke Sranan Tongo, did most of the talking.”

The next day, while touring the village, the brothers cautiously witnessed to some villagers. A few days later, early Sunday morning, they departed for Kabel. There, they checked in at the guesthouse to wait for the next day’s train.a

Paddling After the Missionaries

However, some hours after the missionaries had left Gansé, an 18-year-old Bush Negro, Frederik Wachter, arrived there. Friends told him that there had been two tall, white men whom they believed to be Jehovah’s Witnesses. Frederik’s heart dropped. For a year he had looked for Witnesses, and now they had been here and left again! But when he heard that the missionaries would leave on the next day’s train, Frederik said, “I must catch up with them before the train leaves.” Would he make it?

Monday morning, when the missionaries woke up, they noticed a short, shy Bush Negro waiting outside. “Were you in my village to preach?” Frederik asked. “Yes,” answered the surprised missionaries. “Why do you ask?”

“I missed your visit, but I came to find out more about your teachings.” The missionaries sat down with Frederik and answered his questions about the Sabbath, baptism, the Kingdom, and more, but they were curious as to how this intelligent boy had learned about Jehovah in the first place. This was Frederik’s story:

In 1950, just before the two brothers had been driven out of Gansé, they had placed four books with Frederik’s uncle. Four years later Frederik found those books, read them, and learned about the true condition of the dead. From then on, he refused to follow his tribe’s superstitious ceremonies. He also left the Moravian Church and wished to meet Jehovah’s Witnesses one day.

This Monday morning, his wish came true. By now, though, the train was pulling in. The missionaries left after giving him the book “Let God Be True” and an invitation to visit the branch when he visited the capital. This Frederik promised to do.

The First Bush Negro Brother!

The next month, October, a barefoot young man knocked on the door of the missionary home. Dirk Stegenga recalls: “Frederik had read ‘Let God Be True,’ remembered every detail, and understood the truth. Every day for two weeks, he came to the missionary home and studied. Yet, he did not come to the meetings. We were puzzled.”

“One day, after inviting him again,” continues Dirk, “Frederik looked down and mumbled, ‘I have no shoes.’ He was embarrassed to come. Now, we did not want to make him a ‘rice Christian’ and give him shoes. Instead I said, ‘We will show a film, so it will be dark. No one will see you have no shoes.’ How happy we were that night to note Frederik in the audience!” And how pleased he was to learn from the film “The New World Society in Action” that thousands of Africans cheerfully served Jehovah​—without shoes!

After two weeks Frederik returned home with another wish: to attend the “Triumphant Kingdom” Assembly in December that year. He worked day after day to save money for the convention trip. He made it. On December 11 he was baptized. Oh, the joy that day to welcome our first Bush Negro brother! Today, Brother Wachter puts his excellent ability to remember Bible scriptures to good use as he serves as a special pioneer. “Frederik’s experience,” sums up Dirk, “reminded me that we are humble tools in Jehovah’s hand. After all, we did not find Frederik, but he found us.”

Society’s Film Influenced Government Decision

Earlier that year, the same film that helped Brother Wachter had been used in another way. How? Well, after the branch office learned that two new missionaries had been assigned to Suriname, entry permits were requested, but they were denied by the attorney general, a staunch Protestant. When the attorney general went on vacation, however, an interview was quickly arranged with the minister of justice and police, a Muslim. Could he be persuaded? Dirk relates:

“After listening to me, the minister pulled out a folder with underlined Watchtower magazines. He then read from one of the magazines that Jehovah’s Witnesses do not support the five-year plans of this world. ‘Suriname has a five-year plan,’ he said, ‘so we do not want a religion that is against our plan.’”

The branch overseer clarified our view toward obedience to governments, and the minister seemed satisfied. The real obstacle to getting the permits, though, was the clergy of Christendom. “Since the minister was a Muslim,” continues Dirk, “I told him that Christendom disliked us because we do not believe in the Trinity. Like Muslims, we believe in one true God. The minister found that interesting, became more sympathetic, and promised to help.”

Weeks passed but no word. Then Dr. Louis Voigt, who later became a Witness, proposed, “Since the minister and the substitute attorney general are my patients, I will invite them and their wives to my house. And you missionaries come also to show the Society’s film. Perhaps that will break down the prejudice.”

The government officials indeed watched the Society’s film and were impressed. “Two weeks later,” Dirk relates, “we got the permits.” Missionaries Willem “Wim” and Grietje “Gré” van Seijl were on their way.

A Chilly Welcome

On December 7, 1955, the attorney general, who by then was back from vacation and very angry, could hardly wait for the old freighter Cottica to dock. Then, as passengers Wim and Gré van Seijl disembarked, the attorney general summoned them to appear in front of him. “The attorney general looked at us as if we were criminals,” remembers Wim. “He declared, ‘You can work only in Paramaribo. If you evangelize one step outside the city, you’ll be expelled!’ Then he handed us a document stating these restrictions, and we were allowed to go. That was a hearty welcome,” quips Brother van Seijl.

However, the two missionaries proved to be a solid addition to the congregation. Indeed, before coming to Suriname, they had already built a fine record of service. Both learned the truth during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, were baptized in 1945, and later gained experience in circuit work.

With their extra help, the increase came. In February 1956 the branch wrote: “We split the congregation in two.” In April: “We made it! We had a 47-percent increase.” And in June: “We reached 200 publishers!” The branch concluded: “Prospects are bright!”

Meanwhile, Brother Simmonite’s family​—increased by baby Candy—​moved the following year to a coconut plantation in Coronie, to work as special pioneers. But later, in 1957, Burt’s failing health obliged them to return to Canada. During his eight-year stay in Suriname, he had given his heart and soul. With Jehovah’s blessing, Burt successfully shepherded the congregation from the instability of childhood, so to speak, to the dependability of a responsible youth. No small accomplishment! Today, the Simmonite family helps out in caring for the Kingdom interests in Guatemala.