Nigeria talks with God in Villaverde

Pastor Abraham Rogers preaches in English using a wireless microphone. His tone rises gradually, until he is practically yelling at the congregation. Around him, 150 Africans go into a trance: eyes closed, arms in the air, they murmur as they rock back and forth or side to side. Fifteen minutes later they reach a moment of common ecstasy that ends with a "Thank you father! Hallelujah!" which some parishioners intone on their knees as tears roll down their cheeks. The setting is not a church in Nigeria, where most of the congregation comes from, but a warehouse in the industrial park of Villaverde. It is two in the morning on Friday. The streets around here are empty save for the prostitutes.

This vigil by the Redeemed Christian Church of God, an evangelical community of Nigerian origin, is also a party: from 11pm until 5am, they pray, sing and dance. And that is precisely the reason why its 10 Madrid centers are all located in rented warehouses on the outskirts of the city. In other towns (they have around 50 centers throughout Spain), church leaders had problems with the spaces they'd rented downtown because neighbors complained about the noise. So they moved out to avoid any trouble.

Sitting in the back without taking part in the prayers, Andrés Amyawu, 17, tries to hold two-year-old Elisa in his arms while she tries to twist away. As the parish usher, he is in charge of the dozens of children who frolic about on the gray carpet while mass is taking place. The younger ones sleep on blankets on the ground, between the folding chairs. Their parents barely pay any attention to them, as they are too busy talking to God.

A delegation from the Torrejón center - there are parishioners from all over Madrid here for the monthly vigil - goes up on stage. There is no crucifix in sight, just several depictions of women, fruit and a Bible. The group performs gospel songs that get everyone off their plastic chairs again. The women sway to the beat wearing their Sunday best, wigs and tresses. The men wear pleated pants and white pointy shoes. Both doors of the warehouse are open and a slight summer breeze is blowing. It would seem as if Nigeria is in Madrid, or vice versa. "For with God nothing shall be impossible," preaches a screen.

"We Africans have three difficulties here: language, color and culture," says Pastor Rogers, 51, sitting in his office on the top floor of the warehouse. Rogers is also the coordinator for the Redeemed Christian Church of God in Spain. He arrived here 11 years ago with his wife and a mission: to fill the country with temples.

At first he did not get a warm welcome. "Before, there weren't as many black people as there are now. When I started going to mass in Valencia, nobody said hello to me," he says in clear Spanish. The first church was set up there, in Valencia, with funding from the Nigerian organization. The 50 or so centers it has today (with around 2,000 members) are funded by money from Nigeria and mass collections. But the cash is dwindling, and the parishioners, many of whom are unemployed, are putting fewer bills into the bucket. "We barely manage to pay the 2,050-euro rent for this space; sometimes we pay 1,700 euros and delay the remainder for the next month," says the pastor.

Isabel Gloria Momo is one of the faithful, and she believes the Spanish crisis is caused by the fact that Europeans have "strayed from God." A native of Guinea, she is practically a foreigner in this community of mostly Nigerians. She is 58 and has 11 children and grandchildren, and her faith is strong. "Only a miracle can explain that I am able to walk without crutches, because the doctors said I would never be able to, due to my knee injuries."

Ike, 51, is another true believer. He is unemployed and may move to the Netherlands, because he says there is a great need to spread the good word there. "That country is Sodom and Gomorrah," he asserts. He was once visited by God, he claims outside the doors of the center, right before starting to speak nonsensically. Inside, the pastor is preaching at the top of his lungs again. Ike comes to again and explains: "When I mention the Lord, he appears before me and I talk to him in the language of angels."