LUBUMBASHI
Bishop Ntambo Nkulu was the first to tell us, "In America you keep time; in Africa we make time." Others have since quoted us the same refrain, with the same smile. Americans have a reputation here for being tightly scheduled, organizing and subdividing their time to accomplish many tasks without interruption according to their own agenda. Africans, on the other hand, make room for the unexpected twists the day may bring, knowing that the plan is never wholly in their hands.
While we have been in Congo with the United Front Against Riverblindness, we have had to learn the same lesson. Our original in-country travel plan was for a non-stop series of flights, allowing us to stay just a few days in each place on our itinerary. But while we were still in transit across the Atlantic, we received word that the first of those in-country flights had been abruptly rescheduled, such that we would miss it. We landed in the southern city of Lubumbashi, our port of entry, and spent our first few days in Congo trying to make alternative arrangements to get to the place we thought we needed to be--Goma, a city in the north of the country that is the site of a vast refugee camp and many international aid agencies, including one of UFAR's partners in fighting riverblindness. One by one, each of our efforts was frustrated. An unworkable flight schedule stopped us in one case, insufficient time for paperwork in another, prohibitive expense in yet another. At last we thought we were set to fly to Goma on a United Nations plane and arrived eagerly at the airport at 6am, bags in hand, only to find that a bureaucrat in the local office had failed to complete the final signature on our forms. As a result we watched a half-full plane take off without us.
It was at that point that members of the trip began to wonder whether God had another plan for our mission trip. We had been trying fiercely to keep our own time, but God seemed at every turn to be pointing us back toward Lubumbashi. As we returned from the airport to the Methodist guest house where we were staying, we asked ourselves what we might do in this city of 1 million near the Zambian border, a place we'd thought would be a mere waystation for us rather than the home base for most of our trip. Maybe there was work calling to us here.
- The staff of the Lubumbashi-area riverblindness organization
But first our trip leader, Daniel, wanted to have a word with the U.N. official who had failed to complete our paperwork. He headed for the U.N. office downtown, where he registered a polite but firm complaint with the staff, explaining what a mess they'd made of our plans by their error. As he was leaving, a young man in the waiting room asked to speak to him. The man had overheard Daniel's conversation about the United Front Against Riverblindness and our frustrated effort to get to Goma. He explained that he was a doctor working with the Lubumbashi-area riverblindness organization, tasked with the same work as UFAR but in a different part of the country. They had been struggling for support in the last few years. Would our group like to come to their offices, see their work, and perhaps participate in their distribution in this area? They would be more than happy to make time to accommodate the ten Americans interested in riverblindness who had unexpectedly shown up in their city.
- Our team poses with the Lubumbashi-area riverblindness staff.
We made arrangements to see them the next day. Meanwhile we decided to spend an afternoon as a group walking through a Lubumbashi neighborhood near our guesthouse. We set out without a firm plan, making time for whatever we might see. On arriving at a busy intersection, Daniel asked a man on the street what was of interest in this neighborhood. Well, he said, the restaurant right behind us. It was a fundraising measure operated by a couple who ran a program for abandoned children. The program itself? It was on the other side of the street. Come, enter, of course we could see it.
And so ten minutes later we found ourselves in a meeting with a lovely Congolese woman, Therese, who together with her French husband, Lucien, runs a non-profit organization dedicated to caring for children in Lubumbashi who have been cast out by their families. We learned that in this area poor families suffering particularly terrible hardships sometimes believe that their suffering is the result of their child's being a witch. They seek to drive the witch away, or worse, to harm him or her. Some 65 percent of the children in the care of the Bumi Center have been accused of witchcraft by their parents. As Therese walked us around the grounds, introducing us to the children and their teachers, showing us their daily schedule, their garden, their sewing machines, it was hard for some members of our group to hold back tears. The Bumi Center does noble work, and Therese and Lucien's vision for what the children need in the way of love and security and structure is excellent, but their funds are severely limited. The children were in ragged clothing and had the barest of facilties.
- Children in the Kamina marketplace
Therese asked if we would like to see one of their long-term houses for children in another area of the city. And so she and Lucien made time to take all ten of us on a tour the next day, arranging transportation to a village on the outskirts of Lubumbashi and giving us hours of their time. They showed us the work being done with the children to give them basic education, as well as to train them in agriculture, environmental stewardship, and other technical skills. They explained where the the organization's abilities to meet the children's needs fell short of their vision. It was clear that here was another cause worthy of our attention, right around the corner.
And so, as we have been compelled to stop rushing, we have found God's children calling to us right here in Lubumbashi. Right here are people with riverblindness, who need the kind of help we expected to give further north. And right here are children with other needs that God has chosen to put before us. We have stopped fretting over our intended flight plan and now walk out the gate in the morning with our eyes and hearts open, learning to make time.
Gretchen B.
