My first trip to one of the compounds. Went with Rev Musaba to one of the churches he is ministering to just now as they have not had their own minister for some time.
This was another one of those ‘eye-opening’ visits. As we drove towards the compound we left the tarmac behind and drove for some time on a dirt road that became increasingly rutted and bumpy. We drove passed the large electricity distribution station with massive pylons then past small settlement where a wooden structure served as a sort of open air café/bar with men sitting chatting, while many women seemed to be hurrying between the buildings on either side. The little houses that lined one side of the road didn’t look too bad. On a little bit more.
Not so many houses along here. Just a huge rubbish tip. And children. Lots of children, with curious expressions on little faces that were poking out above ill-fitting jerseys or tee shirts. Children playing on the rubbish tip. And one little boy caught my attention. Squatting down quite far apart form the other children. Sitting eating something with one hand that looked black and disgusting, while he raked around in the tip with his other hand. I did not dare to think too hard or to try and work out what he might be eating. The houses I’d seen by the roadside hadn’t suggested this level of poverty, so I felt just a bit confused. Then we turned into the compound itself and everything became far too clear.
I have never in my life come across humans living in such conditions. How can I describe to you the stench, and the shock I felt when I realised I was looking at ‘homes’ and ‘shops’. The dug out channels that ran in front of buildings were at best full of stagnant water and rubbish. Many of the adults and the children in this place just looked so incredibly dusty and dirty. And as Rev Musaba coaxed his car along the space that had to serve as a road we passed a little clearing where there was a water pump and a man working hard to pump water for the gathered group who were eagerly holding out a variety of plastic and metal containers in the hope of getting some water. It’s not easy to stay clean in this dusty country. How much bigger is the challenge to have enough clean water for living?
The church was a small, pretty run down building but with most of the roof in place. On the gable ends massive holes were an unexpected source of light and ventilation, and the vestry was home to one very small shaky table and a couple of chairs. In the little room beside the vestry members of the Women’s Christian Fellowship were preparing the communion elements. There was a rickety chair in the room and a tray sat on it with some of the elements laid out and covered with crisp, sparkling white cloths. The dishes and jug containing the rest of the elements sat on the floor.
We prayed together and carried the elements into the church. Throughout the service there was deep sense of worship. The choir sang joyfully and, as people continued to join us, the church soon began to fill up. This is a growing congregation, and people are keen to be here. After the service I had the opportunity to spend time with some of the women while Rev Musaba met with a member of the congregation. I heard a good deal about their lives and families, and about their hopes and dreams for their church and community. They were genuinely excited that I had come to spend time with them and were keen to have a picture taken with me. As we took a couple of pictures a crowd gathered outside the church to continue singing praise. They were standing under the shade of a big tree and beckoned for me to come and stand with them as they sang. They delighted in singing several songs and some folk who had been heading home rushed back to join in. There were more young men in this group than women. A young dad sang and danced as he held his toddler. Another young man led the singing. Another was obviously very moved by what he was singing. And other young men simply sang and danced enthusiastically. Then, after lots of handshakes and hugs it was time to head back.
As I looked again at what was around me as we drove slowly out of the compound I prayed fervently that I will have the opportunity to come back to this community before I leave.
The evening service back at St Margaret’s was a stark contrast. Once again I was conscious of the relatively plush surroundings. Ok, they still have work to do like bringing the toilets and kitchen facilities up to a better standard, but for me today, it is patently obvious that this is a country of sharp divisions.
I had great fun after the evening service with a short Bemba lesson from Joel. He is a very patient teacher, and I am planning to spend a bit more time with him so that I can try to master some basic greetings and phrases. And as a lovely end to the evening I was invited to a wedding reception on Saturday evening. Brian and Miriam are one of the FIVE couples being married on Saturday morning…
What an experience that will be!!
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