Using faith to feel at home

Walk by too fast and you could easily miss the Redeemed Christian Church of God. Housed in a former antique store down a quiet lane off Capel Street, Dublin, a space it shares with the neighbourhood laundromat, the only evidence of the church's existence during the week is a faded sign that hangs above the door.

But Sunday never fails to attract attention as hundreds of mostly Nigerian born-again Christians fill the street with booming voices and the sound of raucous African rhythms pounded out on snare drums, cymbals, bongos and tambourines.

Two years old, the makeshift church serves as a place where Dublin's newly-arrived Africans can baptise their young, mourn their dead, worship God, and begin to develop some sense of community in a strange and sometimes hostile land.

"When I first got here, I tried to get used to the Catholic Mass you practise, but it's just not the way we do things," said Ola Iginla (32), a former trainer in the Nigerian military who was forced to leave in 1998 after being accused of plotting a coup. "We praise God by letting him hear us - by dancing, playing music, singing at the top of our lungs. Without this place to come to, we would all be very depressed here."

Theirs is a percussive religion. The congregation gathered on Sunday afternoon around new-born Tunde Odediran, held in his mother's arms for a musical baptismal ceremony. As they danced, clapped and waved their hands, Kunle Daniel, half pastor-half performer, doused the baby's head in water while leading them in song. "Let us welcome the newest member of our community," he said to loud cheers.

Longing for a more permanent home, the church's 500 adult members are each trying to contribute £1,000 to build a more elaborate church in the city.

"When you come to a new place, with no relatives or people your own colour in sight, you feel very much alone," said Niyi Ogundare (39), a former Nigerian union leader who now works for the church. "But with this church, with a place to come to, you have a new family, and it doesn't feel so bad."

The immigration experience is still new to Ireland. But already the same phenomenon of furious church building that marked new ethnic groups arriving in the US in the last century is beginning to take place. The Redeemed Christian Church also has branches for Nigerians in Ennis, Naas and Mullingar.

Dublin's Romanian community is getting actively involved in the Greek Orthodox Church. But Romanians in Monaghan have set up their own Orthodox church while the Dundalk's Romanian community is busily searching for land on which to build.

"The church is the most recognisable symbol of community and nationality. So once a group resettles in a new land, they won't feel truly settled until they have that place of their own," said Pierce Mac Einri of the Irish Center for Migration Studies. Ireland's new immigrant groups haven't had enough time to settle down yet, he said, especially those outside Dublin.

"But soon we're going to hear a lot more clamour for new mosques and churches of all denominations."

Though its congregation includes a small number of Kenyans, Sudanese, Zimbabweans, even Irish, the Redeemed Christian Church of God mainly serves as a Nigerian Community Centre where members can find everything from apartments to steady jobs.

Ruth Ogundare is one who appreciated its help. Her first few months in Ireland two years ago were "beyond terrible," she recalls. "All of a sudden, I had no one. People would stare at me, they wouldn't sit next to me on the bus, they'd make crude remarks.

"Then I found out about this church," Ms Ogundare said, "and it helped me get back a little bit of my country. Things are much better now, but I don't think I could have adjusted without this place."