Figure 21.2 MISS EASMON'S WEDDING IN AMERICA
BY MRS. CASELY HAYFORD
The Wheel of Time turns on incessantly and remorselessly, bringing with each rotation joy or sadness, health or sickness, success or failure, marriage or single blessedness, hope or despair, life or death, in its revolution around every conceivable emotion known to mankind.
After having rotated for the past two years with a tempestuous, tumultuous whirl, it has definitely and irrevocably flung away the demure spinsterhood of my niece, Miss Kathleen Easmon, and planked her down in the pathway of matrimonial bliss.
The wonder is that it did not occur sooner. But although the young lady has forsaken me, she has not forsaken the work which we left Africa to accomplish. As Mrs. Kamba Simango--wife of a well-trained educationist--she will devote her talents and energies to the development and uplift of the Portuguese East African womanhood, just as I shall continue to do in the West.
In her departure from the land of her birth West Africa indeed sustains a loss. But we must not grudge either East Africa or Mr. Kamba Simango their gain.
For the past eighteen months he has been intensely interested in our work, and has spared neither pains nor time to give us all the assistance in his power, and this in spite of the exacting demands of Columbia University, where he is working for his degree. The wedding took place on June 1, at Wilton, Connecticut, and the following extract from the Norwalk Hour may probably be of interest to readers of West Africa: -
"In the historical congregational Church at Wilton, which during more than a century of existence has been the scene of not a few notable weddings, there was consecrated at two o'clock this afternoon a romance in real life, of great interest and much significance for the advancement of Christianity in Africa, Columbus Kamba Simango, who is just being graduated from Columbia University, and Miss Kathleen Mary Easmon, daughter of the late Dr John Farrell Easmon, Principal Medical Officer of the Gold Coast colony, who has been assisting her aunt Mrs. Casely Hayford, in raising funds to establish a girls school in Sierra Leone, West Africa, were married by the Rev. Frederick Bunker, pastor of the church.
The ceremony, charming in its simplicity and unique in some of its characteristics, was attended by a large gathering of interested spectators. Miss Easmon was attired in an African costume of white, richly embroidered by the people of her own country, and sent to America for the occasion by her mother. Mr. Simango was also in Native costume.
MUSIC FROM SIERRA LEONE
"The bride was given away by her aunt, Mrs. Casely Hayford, who was also becomingly gowned in the Fanti costume of the Gold coast. The young couple were unattended, but four Wilton young ladies acted as ushers, in pretty flimsy costumes of white and yellow. Nicholas Ballanta Taylor, of Sierra Leone, West Africa, who during his six months residence in America had been pronounced a musical genius by some of the foremost musicians of New York City, presided at the organ.
"The church was most artistically decorated by enthusiastic members of the congregation in a color scheme of mauve, white and yellow. A reception, arranged by the Women's League of the church, was held in the chapel, which had been transformed into a flower garden, immediately after the ceremony when guests from Norwalk, Bridgeport, Fairfield and New York were given the opportunity of congratulating the bride and bridegroom.
"Kamba Simango a native of Mashanga, East Africa, showed his manly courage and indomitable grit at an early age, when in spite of tremendous disadvantages police restrictions and persecutions, he found his way to a mission school under the America Board, and established by the Rev. Fred Bunker, who performed his wedding ceremony.
"The poor boys were frequently arrested for attempting to acquire book knowledge, till, after tow years persistent effort the mission had to be closed. Simango, with eighteen other boys, then decided to walk over into British territory, where they knew they could pursue their studies unmolested. They finally reached Mount Silinda, another American Mission station, where Simango remained for eight years, undergoing industrial training. In 1914 he worked his way over to America, going straight to Hampton Institute, where he won the respect and esteem of all by his good work and fine personality. In 1919 he entered the Teachers Training College of Columbia University where he completed his four years' course in three years, and where the professors have publicly stated that he has the capacity for mastering any subject the University offers!"
BY MRS. CASELY HAYFORD
The Wheel of Time turns on incessantly and remorselessly, bringing with each rotation joy or sadness, health or sickness, success or failure, marriage or single blessedness, hope or despair, life or death, in its revolution around every conceivable emotion known to mankind.
After having rotated for the past two years with a tempestuous, tumultuous whirl, it has definitely and irrevocably flung away the demure spinsterhood of my niece, Miss Kathleen Easmon, and planked her down in the pathway of matrimonial bliss.
The wonder is that it did not occur sooner. But although the young lady has forsaken me, she has not forsaken the work which we left Africa to accomplish. As Mrs. Kamba Simango--wife of a well-trained educationist--she will devote her talents and energies to the development and uplift of the Portuguese East African womanhood, just as I shall continue to do in the West.
In her departure from the land of her birth West Africa indeed sustains a loss. But we must not grudge either East Africa or Mr. Kamba Simango their gain.
For the past eighteen months he has been intensely interested in our work, and has spared neither pains nor time to give us all the assistance in his power, and this in spite of the exacting demands of Columbia University, where he is working for his degree. The wedding took place on June 1, at Wilton, Connecticut, and the following extract from the Norwalk Hour may probably be of interest to readers of West Africa: -
"In the historical congregational Church at Wilton, which during more than a century of existence has been the scene of not a few notable weddings, there was consecrated at two o'clock this afternoon a romance in real life, of great interest and much significance for the advancement of Christianity in Africa, Columbus Kamba Simango, who is just being graduated from Columbia University, and Miss Kathleen Mary Easmon, daughter of the late Dr John Farrell Easmon, Principal Medical Officer of the Gold Coast colony, who has been assisting her aunt Mrs. Casely Hayford, in raising funds to establish a girls school in Sierra Leone, West Africa, were married by the Rev. Frederick Bunker, pastor of the church.
The ceremony, charming in its simplicity and unique in some of its characteristics, was attended by a large gathering of interested spectators. Miss Easmon was attired in an African costume of white, richly embroidered by the people of her own country, and sent to America for the occasion by her mother. Mr. Simango was also in Native costume.
MUSIC FROM SIERRA LEONE
"The bride was given away by her aunt, Mrs. Casely Hayford, who was also becomingly gowned in the Fanti costume of the Gold coast. The young couple were unattended, but four Wilton young ladies acted as ushers, in pretty flimsy costumes of white and yellow. Nicholas Ballanta Taylor, of Sierra Leone, West Africa, who during his six months residence in America had been pronounced a musical genius by some of the foremost musicians of New York City, presided at the organ.
"The church was most artistically decorated by enthusiastic members of the congregation in a color scheme of mauve, white and yellow. A reception, arranged by the Women's League of the church, was held in the chapel, which had been transformed into a flower garden, immediately after the ceremony when guests from Norwalk, Bridgeport, Fairfield and New York were given the opportunity of congratulating the bride and bridegroom.
"Kamba Simango a native of Mashanga, East Africa, showed his manly courage and indomitable grit at an early age, when in spite of tremendous disadvantages police restrictions and persecutions, he found his way to a mission school under the America Board, and established by the Rev. Fred Bunker, who performed his wedding ceremony.
"The poor boys were frequently arrested for attempting to acquire book knowledge, till, after tow years persistent effort the mission had to be closed. Simango, with eighteen other boys, then decided to walk over into British territory, where they knew they could pursue their studies unmolested. They finally reached Mount Silinda, another American Mission station, where Simango remained for eight years, undergoing industrial training. In 1914 he worked his way over to America, going straight to Hampton Institute, where he won the respect and esteem of all by his good work and fine personality. In 1919 he entered the Teachers Training College of Columbia University where he completed his four years' course in three years, and where the professors have publicly stated that he has the capacity for mastering any subject the University offers!"
ANYTHING BUT A “JOY-RIDE.”
From this account, probably a great many people will be further confirmed in their convictions that we are having a joy-ride through America, and that we are trying to postpone the return to our African fields of labour as long as possible. I hope these persons will kindly disabuse their minds at once. I hope they will pause to reflect under what conditions people go about joy-riding. A joy-ride, in the first place, means an entire absence of monetary considerations. But we, with the exception of a very big faith and a very small purse with which to land on American shores, have had not only to support ourselves, but also to further the object for which we came. A joy-ride also means an entire absence of worry in any shape or form, whilst our footsteps have been clogged with a sense of our responsibility every inch of the way.
Then a “joy-ride” means a “laze-ride,” with no particular object in view except to enjoy oneself. We, on the contrary, have never worked harder in our lives. We have appeared before over one hundred and fifty different coloured congregations. We have given addresses in some of the wealthiest, most exclusive homes, as well as in some of the lowliest. We have come before audiences of the Sociètè des Beaux Arts, at the Waldorf Astoria, down to humble little rural schools in Southern districts. We have decreed hard labour for ourselves by attempting to produce pageant portraying real African village life, with marked appreciation, and with a corresponding reduction in our adipose tissue.
We attended the Business league, to get a first hand acquaintance with American Negro commercialism, and have tried to interest hard, levelheaded business men in the needs of African womanhood. We have visited ministerial conferences galore, very often being the only women present, and have had large, bulky, generous hands extended to us in cordial fellowship. We have visited scores of schools, where sometimes the children could not refrain from audible remarks. “She ain’t no African! She ain’t got a ring in her nose!” was the judgment pronounced upon Miss Easmon by a little tot of six. As to “conventions.” I did not know what the word meant till I came to American, when I discovered that the convention can either be a very nice, big, jolly “joy-meet,” or else a sober, sensible, well-conducted business origination, based upon good old solid religious principles. We have studied educational systems and conditions from every conceivable angle, not only to improve our own minds, but to fit ourselves for the work in hand.
A WEARY TREK
We have traveled hundreds of thousands of miles, not knowing what reception awaited us at the end. We have landed at remote corners, friendless and alone; and have emerged with a triumphant array of well-wishers to witness the departure of whatever remained of us a little while later.
We have waited upon scores of mantes and written piles of letters, soliciting private subscriptions, and sent hundreds of reminders of unfulfilled pledges. And all the time we have been weighed down with a sense of our personal responsibility in this arduous task, which we undertook without realizing what it meant. The weariness of the flesh, the disappointed hopes, the allow progress, the adverse criticism, the unkind attacks, the complex situations, the setbacks, the blows—not knock-out ones—have all been absolutely worth while, but do not constitute a joy-ride.
After putting over a programme such as I have described I am sure no one will grudge Mrs. Simango her newly found happiness. The young couple are emerging upon the unknown sea of life, and there are always breakers ahead. But, if they allow the Master-Pilot and come out into the wonderful calm of “God’s peace which passeth all understanding.”
I am quite sure readers of West Africa will unite with me in offering Mr. and Mrs. Kamba Simango our heartiest congratulations, with the hope that they may long be spared to carry on the work of regeneration and uplift in Africa, to which they have pledged their lives.
Published in The Sierra Leone Weekly News, 26 August, 1922.
From this account, probably a great many people will be further confirmed in their convictions that we are having a joy-ride through America, and that we are trying to postpone the return to our African fields of labour as long as possible. I hope these persons will kindly disabuse their minds at once. I hope they will pause to reflect under what conditions people go about joy-riding. A joy-ride, in the first place, means an entire absence of monetary considerations. But we, with the exception of a very big faith and a very small purse with which to land on American shores, have had not only to support ourselves, but also to further the object for which we came. A joy-ride also means an entire absence of worry in any shape or form, whilst our footsteps have been clogged with a sense of our responsibility every inch of the way.
Then a “joy-ride” means a “laze-ride,” with no particular object in view except to enjoy oneself. We, on the contrary, have never worked harder in our lives. We have appeared before over one hundred and fifty different coloured congregations. We have given addresses in some of the wealthiest, most exclusive homes, as well as in some of the lowliest. We have come before audiences of the Sociètè des Beaux Arts, at the Waldorf Astoria, down to humble little rural schools in Southern districts. We have decreed hard labour for ourselves by attempting to produce pageant portraying real African village life, with marked appreciation, and with a corresponding reduction in our adipose tissue.
We attended the Business league, to get a first hand acquaintance with American Negro commercialism, and have tried to interest hard, levelheaded business men in the needs of African womanhood. We have visited ministerial conferences galore, very often being the only women present, and have had large, bulky, generous hands extended to us in cordial fellowship. We have visited scores of schools, where sometimes the children could not refrain from audible remarks. “She ain’t no African! She ain’t got a ring in her nose!” was the judgment pronounced upon Miss Easmon by a little tot of six. As to “conventions.” I did not know what the word meant till I came to American, when I discovered that the convention can either be a very nice, big, jolly “joy-meet,” or else a sober, sensible, well-conducted business origination, based upon good old solid religious principles. We have studied educational systems and conditions from every conceivable angle, not only to improve our own minds, but to fit ourselves for the work in hand.
A WEARY TREK
We have traveled hundreds of thousands of miles, not knowing what reception awaited us at the end. We have landed at remote corners, friendless and alone; and have emerged with a triumphant array of well-wishers to witness the departure of whatever remained of us a little while later.
We have waited upon scores of mantes and written piles of letters, soliciting private subscriptions, and sent hundreds of reminders of unfulfilled pledges. And all the time we have been weighed down with a sense of our personal responsibility in this arduous task, which we undertook without realizing what it meant. The weariness of the flesh, the disappointed hopes, the allow progress, the adverse criticism, the unkind attacks, the complex situations, the setbacks, the blows—not knock-out ones—have all been absolutely worth while, but do not constitute a joy-ride.
After putting over a programme such as I have described I am sure no one will grudge Mrs. Simango her newly found happiness. The young couple are emerging upon the unknown sea of life, and there are always breakers ahead. But, if they allow the Master-Pilot and come out into the wonderful calm of “God’s peace which passeth all understanding.”
I am quite sure readers of West Africa will unite with me in offering Mr. and Mrs. Kamba Simango our heartiest congratulations, with the hope that they may long be spared to carry on the work of regeneration and uplift in Africa, to which they have pledged their lives.
Published in The Sierra Leone Weekly News, 26 August, 1922.
Figure 22. An announcement by the YWCA of Manhattan in the New York Amsterdam News, of the Simangos' last performance in the US, before leaving for Europe.
Figure 23. The cover of a book which Kamba Simango jointly authored. He and Kathleen jointly autographed a copy for their friend, Florence Tannenbaum, a few months before they left for Europe. Kamba corresponded with Florence for many years after Kathleen died.
Figure 24. The first page of a 6-page letter Kamba wrote to their friend Florence Tannenbaum in New York City when he arrived in Lisbon, Portugal, to begin his study of Portuguese. It is dated January 9, 1924.
Figure 25. Letter of thanks from W.E.B. DuBois to the Simangos for entertaining him in Lisbon, Portugal. It is almost certain that he had met them in the U.S. while Kathleen and her aunt, Adelaide, were on their fund raising tour. It is more than likely that Kathleen had died in London on July 27, by the time this letter was delivered, and that Kamba saw it only when he returned from England later that year.
Figure 26. Pages 1 & 4 of a 4-page letter from Kamba to Florence, dated Oct 21, 1924. The letter reads:
"My dear Florence,
All this time we meant to write you since receiving your nice letter. But as you will notice by the colour of this paper? something happened which ......... to me and to you too.
Kathleeen passed away on July 27th while she was in London. When she went there she was alright, but on the 20th of July she was taken ill and I was sent for only to arrive too late to see her alive. She died at 2 o'clock in the morning of the 27th and I arrived at noon on the same day. Why fate did not make it possible for us to see each other that day I do not know.
I am all alone now with all my plans and hopes gone. Life is hard. Why she was taken so soon in the fullness of her life is hard to tell. I would have gladly gone in her place. I am ???? to be all at sea. I would not have minded losing any of my relatives but Kathleen. She was such a sweet and nice girl. My wife companion and friend. We only live together two years but those years were full of happiness and mutual understanding. All now is in the past. How long am I going to wait in this cruel world bfore I join her I do not know but probably I shall hang on for many years. I want to join her. You too have lost a good friend for she loved you at first sight. Let me hear from you soon. With much love from your friend.. Kamba.
Very sad, indeed.
"My dear Florence,
All this time we meant to write you since receiving your nice letter. But as you will notice by the colour of this paper? something happened which ......... to me and to you too.
Kathleeen passed away on July 27th while she was in London. When she went there she was alright, but on the 20th of July she was taken ill and I was sent for only to arrive too late to see her alive. She died at 2 o'clock in the morning of the 27th and I arrived at noon on the same day. Why fate did not make it possible for us to see each other that day I do not know.
I am all alone now with all my plans and hopes gone. Life is hard. Why she was taken so soon in the fullness of her life is hard to tell. I would have gladly gone in her place. I am ???? to be all at sea. I would not have minded losing any of my relatives but Kathleen. She was such a sweet and nice girl. My wife companion and friend. We only live together two years but those years were full of happiness and mutual understanding. All now is in the past. How long am I going to wait in this cruel world bfore I join her I do not know but probably I shall hang on for many years. I want to join her. You too have lost a good friend for she loved you at first sight. Let me hear from you soon. With much love from your friend.. Kamba.
Very sad, indeed.
