On Wednesday we came from Kitale to Kakamega, about a three hour drive. I am ministering here with one of our newest affiliated ministers, Pastor John Ochieng, and staying with him and his family in their home. This is how I prefer to do missions – staying in hotels may have some advantages, but staying with the pastors in their homes is better for building relationships.
As a means of supporting his family and the church, John runs a dressmaking business, so I now have yet another African style dress, a gift from him made by his girls.
I also had to go shopping yesterday for a new suitcase. I had discovered when I arrived from Zambia that someone, presumably from Kenya Airways, had opened my case. As far as I could tell nothing was missing, but the locks had been moved around to the bottom of the case. Then when I went to shut the case on Wednesday to come here, I found that the locks had not just been moved, they had been snapped, making it impossible to relock the case. I’m not happy about the idea of checking in a case that is not locked, so bought a new one. It did give me the chance to go bigger in size, so this one should not be so hard to close with all my loot. It was good to have John with me, as he knew the shopkeeper and was able to get me a bit of a discount.
Before the meeting yesterday afternoon they took me to a tourist site called the Crying Stone. This is a rock that has water continually flowing from it. The legend is that there was a man of bad reputation who was driven away from the village. Some time later he returned to find that his wife and children had gone. He began to cry, and was so upset that he turned into stone. The more scientific (but far less romantic) explanation is that there is a hole in the top of the rock that collects water when it rains, which then seeps out through micro-cracks in the rock. Unfortunately the path up to the rock was too steep and rough for me to manage, so John went up and took these photos for me.
Last night we had a revival meeting here. Once again the Lord had given me very little for my message, but the Holy Spirit took over and it ended up being a powerful word that everyone said was just what was needed for this place at this time. I’m getting used to this thing of Him giving me the message as I speak, but it’s not comfortable. Also I need to be careful that it doesn’t become laziness on my part … I still need to seek Him for the word before the meeting, and trust that if I don’t hear from Him, He will come good at the time.
Kitale, where Adams and Mary live, is a large town. Many of the people here are contract workers who only live in the town for work, but on major holidays like Christmas return to their home villages to celebrate with their families. As a result Christmas here is fairly quiet. We had a Christmas morning service, but there was only a small congregation and the service itself was short.
Christmas here does not come with all the hype that it does in the west. Decorations are minimal, and gift giving is low key. There is generally a special meal, but that got kinda thwarted here at Adams’ place. They had a sheep that was to be killed for Christmas dinner, but when the time came the kids refused to let it be killed. They still have the sheep. Then they were given a goat for the same purpose, but the kids objected to its demise, too. They still have the goat. We had a very nice dinner, but it wasn’t either lamb or goat. I suggested to Adams that next time they should adopt the strategy of a friend of mine in Australia – she had two sheep intended for the table, and named the Lamb Chop and Souvlaki, so that the kids would get used to the idea that these sheep were going to be eaten.
Adams explained that in the villages Christmas is a much bigger deal because whereas in the towns chicken may be an every day menu item, in many of the villages it is eaten only at Christmas (I remember that being the case in the Australia of my childhood), and whilst people in the towns may buy new clothes any time of the year, in the villages new clothes are a Christmas special.
Today we went to Mary’s family for a fun day. They do this every year on Boxing Day. Mary’s family is huge – there would have been around 300 people gathered today: family, extended family, a few friends and neighbours, and this one mzungu. The whole thing was organized chaos (well, actually not that organized) but heaps of fun. The day included every possible kind of competition, from running races for every group from juniors to retirees (several of whom made a very impressive effort), to sack and egg-and-spoon races, to story telling and singing.
Four different areas were represented, and each person was competing not only for personal glory but for their area, so at one level it was all fiercely competitive, but at the same time the cheers for the last person home were as great as those for the winner. There was lots of laughter as various ones hammed it up for the audience, and a generally great day all round.
I knew a couple of days ago that I would be speaking at East Gate Chapel (Adams’ church) this morning, and I though I had the message for today, or at least the start of it.
Then last night I learned that I would also be speaking at a home fellowship this afternoon, and at the Christmas morning service tomorrow morning. Deep breath. OK, that’s two more messages I have to come up with (last night.) Did my usual, “God, what do You want to say to Your people?” Nothing. Went to bed asking. Nothing. Woke up at 2am asking. Still nothing.
During my Bible reading this morning a verse jumped out and grabbed me by the ears. That was my message for this morning. The Holy Spirit showed me half a dozen scriptural examples of it, and that was all I had when I stood up. It was one of those situations where either the Holy Spirit had to do His thing, or I was going to be in an embarrassing situation. Praise God He did, and I preached for nearly an hour under a powerful anointing. (I was actually feeling extremely tired and really not very well before I stood up. That disappeared the minute the anointing hit.)
Before I brought the message, there was a baby to dedicate, which was lovely. It’s such a delight to be included in these precious personal moments. After the message three people came out for prayer, then another couple brought their baby for an unscheduled dedication.
After the meeting, Mary told me that I would actually be speaking at two home groups, the first one being the celebration of a boy’s circumcision. OK, that’s different. I’ve never been involved in the celebration of a circumcision before, but it seems like this is the day for babies. Lord, what do You want to say about babies? Nothing.
Before we could leave for the home group there was a brief counselling and prayer session with one of the church members, then we headed to the cell group and arrived in time for a late lunch, then the meeting got rolling with the usual singing and dancing. It’s really funny how sometimes, even though you don’t understand a word of the language, you can pretty much know what is being said. At one point a group of young men came out to sing, and Adams kept sending them back to put more enthusiasm into the movement. All the while I’m seeking the Lord for His word about babies. Nothing.
For most of the service I didn’t understand anything that was being said, but I gathered that most of it was introductions of family members and explanations of their relation to the whole procedure. Then, in the middle of it, something caught my attention. One of the speakers indicated a boy of around 12 years, and I thought I caught the word “circumcision.” Quickly leaning towards Adams I asked, “Is that boy the one being circumcised?” “Yes.” Oh, whoops! No wonder God is not giving me a word about babies! I had from then till when I stood up, about 20 minutes later, to get the message. Once again, the Holy Spirit came through.
The boy who was being circumcised (who I am sure must have been terribly embarrassed by the who thing) was then brought out to sit on a chair at the front of the meeting, and I was asked to pray for him, followed by all the senior relatives. After that he was presented with gifts, including a live sheep that was led in by a rope around one of its legs. Definitely a different experience. Adams explained that circumcision is a traditional thing for them, but they have deliberately worked to bring it into a Christian context rather than the traditional ways.
Finally it was on to the second home meeting. On the trip between the two the Lord gave me the message, which I had to shorten because of lack of time, but I still covered the main points. And yet another baby … this time not for dedication, just for a blessing and a kind of baby shower. The ladies brought the bub in procession around the group before presenting her to be blessed, then presented her mum with gifts. Then, of course, there was food.
Actually, that wasn’t quite the end of the day. Elder Benson asked Adams and I to go back to his house to pray a blessing on the house and his family.
So, a very busy day, a very different day, in some ways a very challenging day, but a great day. One of the biggest differences between the church here in Africa and the church in Australia is the attitude toward visiting speakers. Here it’s “Please give us another meeting. We want to get as much as we can out of you.” In Oz, all too often, it’s “We might do you a favour and let you preach.” No wonder I love ministering in Africa.
Today I had the privilege of being part of an African wedding. Now before I start, I want to stress three things:
1. This is Africa … nothing happens quickly.
2. This is Africa … everything possible is accompanied by singing and dancing.
3. This was a double wedding, so multiply the above by two.
The whole church was involved in the wedding. The two couples were both financially stretched, so everyone pitched in to help, providing transport, food, and everything else that was needed. Both grooms were from Adams’ church, but both brides were from other churches, so those churches were involved too. Here at Adams’ church a Wedding Committee was responsible for making all the arrangements (I understand that is normal here.)
The service was supposed to start at 10. It got going around 11.30. After worship and prayer Elder Benson did the introductions, acknowledging every person or group of significance in the packed congregation. Then the processions started.
Each groom had two sets of attendants, who came in singing and dancing (of course!) – and by dancing, I mean the slow, shuffling back-and-forward step that is so typical of Africa. After the grooms’ attendants, the grooms were brought in. Then came the two sets of attendants for each bride.
Finally the brides came in, separately. Each bride had several flower girls, and was accompanied by both her mother and her father. All up, the processions alone took well over an hour.
I gave a brief message, there was some more worship, then both grooms were accompanied by their attendants up to the sanctuary area. Next the brides were brought by their parents and handed over to their grooms. From that point the actual ceremony was fairly similar to weddings at home.
After that everyone went out to the marquees that had been set up in the church grounds for lunch. Adams, Mary and I retreated to Adams’ office and had our lunch there before going back out for the final part of the proceedings. Lots of speeches, which of course I didn’t understand because they were in Swahili, and then yet another procession … well, actually another two processions, as each couple and their entourage came with singing and dancing into the gathering.
Finally, there was the cutting of the cakes. Each couple had several cakes, and the cutting of them was quite a production.
It was a long day, but lots of fun and an experience that I’m really glad I was able to be part of.
One of the questions I was asked most often before I left Australia was, “What kind of food will you be eating over there?” (Interestingly, one of the questions I have been asked most often here is, “What kind of food do you eat in Australia?”)
So, since today is a rest day with nothing new happening, I thought I would take this opportunity to talk about everyone’s favourite subject: food.
The first thing I have to say about food here in Africa is that carbs rule! Following a keto diet here (or even a reasonably low-carb diet) is utterly impossible. Every area has its own staple food (always a carb) but here in Kenya it is ugali, a thick “porridge” made from maize meal. It’s consistency is similar to uncooked biscuit dough, and it is pretty much tasteless. Most east African countries have a similar staple, known by different names. I have been told (by an American missionary) there is also a brown version that tastes better. Ugali is eaten by hand, with chunks broken of and moulded around whatever other food there is.
In addition to ugali there is often rice and/or chapatis (Indian flat bread), and sometimes there are also chips (fries). In Uganda the staple is a dish called matoke, which is made from green bananas and is very nice. Western-style bread is also used, and in some places breakfast is a cup of coffee and half a dozen slices of bread.
The range of vegetables used is limited, which I find quite surprising given the fertility of the land in most places. Mary makes a very yummy cabbage dish, with carrots, capsicum and I think onion – sort of like a cooked coleslaw. The only other cooked vegetable I have encountered is one that tastes a bit like silver beet. Sometimes they also have salad, mostly tomatoes and cucumbers with onion.
Very little meat is used, and mostly it is chicken. This is usually served in a “soup” that is then either poured over rice or soaked up with ugali. Sometimes there is a bean dish, and eggs are sometimes used, mostly for breakfast, though most often breakfast is either bread or pancakes (Mary makes great pancakes).
African adults are not particularly interested in sweets, and desserts are never part of a meal. However fruit is abundant, including the most deliciously sweet pineapple, mangoes, and lots and lots of bananas. In most places there is also a lack of dairy products. Here we have fresh milk, because Adams and Mary have their own cows, but in other countries powdered milk is the norm, probably because of the challenges involved in refrigeration, particularly given the rolling long blackouts that I have talked about in other posts. Cheese is horrendously expensive, and yoghurt is available but seems to be considered mostly as a treat for children.
Indian food has had quite a strong influence in Africa, and a couple of times when we have eaten out I have had truly delicious curries. I’ve also noticed this trip more than on previous ones that there is also a growing Chinese influence on food, probably because China is pouring massive resources into infrastructure in most of the countries, along with large numbers of Chinese workers.
Most Africans don’t use knives and forks. Food is usually eaten with the hands, or when that is impossible with a spoon. At the beginning of each meal, someone will come to each person at the table with a basin and a jug of water (and sometimes soap) for them to wash their hands. This ritual is sometimes repeated at the end of the meal.
African women love to feed their guests. I am trying very hard to get back to my routine of 18:6 intermittent fasting (two meals a day within a maximum six-hour time frame) and one day fasting each week, but everywhere I go the ladies seem to think that I am going to drop dead from starvation if I miss a meal.
Over the last three evenings I have been teaching my spiritual warfare seminar, Called to Battle. I was supposed to be ministering in the church of one of our other affiliated pastors this week, but he was called away so the week was free. On Sunday Adams felt impressed of the Lord to ask me to teach this seminar, which is one that I have taught for many years. Usually I teach the six sessions on one day, but that was not going to work this time, so we spread it over the three nights.
We had a couple of dozen students, all of whom were very keen, taking lots of notes and asking questions. After the last session tonight we had a graduation ceremony, giving each of those who had sat through the whole course a certificate of completion.
I was delighted to be able to teach this course here in Africa. An understanding of the principles of spiritual warfare is important for Christians anywhere, but particularly here in Africa where the spiritual world is so close to the surface. Witchcraft is accepted as a normal part of life here, to the extent that witchdoctors have posters plastered over telegraph poles advertising their services as if they were any other business (although they don’t refer to themselves as witchdoctors, but as “traditional doctors”). Many people fear black magic, and many who call themselves Christians still dabble in the occult to some extent.
It was also special to be able to teach it today, as this is my spiritual birthday. Before coming to the Lord I was a spiritualist medium. He confronted me with my sin through Deuteronomy 28:9-12, and 49 years ago today, on 21st December 1974, I surrendered my life to Jesus and was translated out of the kingdom of darkness and into His Kingdom of Light.
I mentioned this to the class last night, and when I entered the room this afternoon I was met with “Happy Birthday” in song and on the whiteboard, along with balloons and a gift of chocolate.
After the graduation, a couple of people who had come in late also had leis of tinsel and a bunch of wildflowers for me. These people really know how to make you feel special (even if they did spell my name incorrectly).
This is my seventh trip to Africa, and many sights that are totally unknown in the western world are now quite familiar to me. Seeing three, four or five people on the back of a motorbike is perfectly normal. Bikes and trucks that are so laden that it’s barely possible to see the actual vehicle? An every day sight. People (mostly women) walking with amazing loads balanced on their heads? Not at all surprising.
Markets where goods of all kinds are spread out along the roadside are common, as (sadly) are roadside tips where all kinds of rubbish is piled up, attracting scavengers of both the human and animal varieties.
One thing that has always appealed to me as typically Africa is that the roads are always throbbing with life. At home, our roads are barren – all life is either locked up in cars or contained behind fences. Here, no matter where you are there are always people walking along the road (and often on the road.) Herds of cattle, sheep and goats straggle along the roadside. Life is everywhere. (Incidentally, this was one of the first differences that Adams noticed when he visited Australia – he commented several times on the lack of people walking anywhere.)
Another thing that has struck me is just how African the culture of the Bible is. In the Mosaic law there is provision that farmers should not go over their crops a second time after the harvest, but should leave the gleanings for the poor. On my last visit I saw this in practice, as many poor people invaded a field to gather whatever they could of the leftovers from the harvest.
Donkey carts and ox carts, which have been used for millennia, are still used today, in many cases modified only by the substitution of modern tyres for the traditional wooden wheels.
On the subject of transport, motor bikes, known here in Kenya as “boda boda” are everywhere, and are a cheaper alternative to taxis. They were originally used for smuggling goods across the borders (“boda”), hence the name. Not so plentiful here in Kenya, but everywhere in Malawi, are the three-wheeled modified bikes known here as tuk-tuks.
As I said, all these sights of Africa have become very familiar to me. But there are still occasional things that make me shake my head and ask myself, “Did I really see that?”
The most confronting of those on this trip was a body-shaped parcel, wrapped in black plastic, tied on top of a bus. Adams told me that yes, it was exactly what it looked like – a human body, being taken somewhere (probably the person’s home village) for burial. I am far from superstitious, but I don’t think I would have felt very comfortable travelling in that bus!
Then there was the guy on a motor bike who passed us with two live pigs in a crate on the back of the bike. They were tied upside down so that they could not escape, and did not look like happy little piggies.
Or the other motor bike rider who passed us with a full-sized 3-seater couch strapped sideways across the back seat of his bike. The general attitude seems to be, “if you can get it on the bike, and the bike is still able to move, go for it!”
Then there was this morning. We went to do some Christmas shopping. The area is a narrow street, with shops on both sides, market stalls on the footpath, and boda-bodas lined up along the side of the road, leaving barely room for two cars to pass each other. We were driving along one side when down the other side comes a massive truck, needing the whole width of the road to be able to get through. Boda-bodas hurriedly moved out of the way so that we could pull over to avoid being side-swiped.
Ah my Africa! You can still surprise me – and not always in the most pleasant ways.
It’s hard to believe that the first quarter of my trip is now over. It feels like only yesterday that I started this adventure. One thing I will do differently on my next trip is to visit less countries and spend more time in each one – at times on this trip I have felt that I have been doing more travelling than ministry. For this time it was necessary, as there are so many of our pastors that I have not met before, and it has been a delight to meet them and get to know them a little, but next time I want to spend more time with each one. (That is assuming, of course, that I am still around for a “next time.”)
It has been a great joy to see the enthusiasm with which each of the congregations where I have ministered have received the word, and also the warmth with which they have received me personally. In every place I have felt very much loved and accepted by the people (though not always by the spiritual forces over the area – there have been some pretty heavy spiritual attacks going on in the background much of the time.)
One thing that has created great interest everywhere I have gone is my age. At first it bothered me – I felt a bit like a circus exhibition: “See the old lady who is still ministering!” But the Lord reassured me that I am simply providing an inspiration, so now I include in my introduction, “for those who are curious, I am 73 years old.”
Actually God reminded me of something a couple of days ago. The first sermon I ever preached was on 10th June 1975, at Bethel nursing home in Ashfield, Sydney, and my message was on Psalm 92. Verse 14 of that Psalm says of the righteous, “they will still bear fruit in old age.” I had no idea how prophetic I was being.
This morning I ministered at Ebenezer Assembly of God Church, which is just around the corner from Adams’ home and is led by Pastor Steve Churu. Steve has been affiliated with the Apostolic Network for some years now, and I have ministered at his church a couple of times before. There was a very heavy anointing and I had prophetic words for a couple of people, including Steve. As usual I ended up praying for almost everyone in the meeting. Best of all, Steve called a second prayer line for those who feel a call to ministry, and I was able to pray for and release an anointing upon around fifteen people who sense the call of God on their lives. What a privilege!
We arrived in Kitale, where Adams and his family live, on Thursday night. It was great to be welcomed again to their home as one of the family, with Adams and Mary calling me “Mum” and their kids calling me “Grandma.”
Yesterday (Friday) was to be a day of rest, and it was … for most of the day. Around 2pm Adams came and said that there was going to be a home meeting at 4, celebrating the birth of a baby to one of the home group members, and they wanted me to speak and to pray for the bub.
We went with Elder Benson, whom I know from previous visits, and after everyone in the group had had a turn to share, he introduced me. He surprised me somewhat, saying that it was an honour to have someone “of [my] standing” come to speak to a small group. He made me sound like someone great. It was all I could do not to interrupt and say, “Hey, I’m nobody special. I’m just Lynnie, an old lady from Oz” (hmmm, sounds like that could be the beginning of a limerick.) I appreciated him honouring me, but I felt distinctly uncomfortable with it. Anyway, the meeting went well, and I ministered the word and prayed for the sweet little boy.
The church where I was going to minister today had not been able to organize a meeting, so last night Adams told me that we were going to a youth conference in Mt. Elgon. Mt. Elgon is around 50kms from Kitale. The roads for the last bit of the trip are extremely rough, but the views are absolutely worth it. I don’t think I have captured them well enough in this pic, but I hope you get the idea. The iron building at the extreme left of the photo is the church where the conference was held.
They welcomed us with leis of tinsel, and brought us into the building in procession, which was kinda fun, though I have definitely not mastered the kind of shuffling walk they use for such occasions. There were around 50 to 60 young people, and even though I was preaching a fairly heavy word about Christian growth, at the end three people came out for salvation! Praise the Lord! Almost all the rest came out for prayer and to commit themselves to going further in their Christian life. By the end of the session, my legs were cramping badly, but it was more than worth it.
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Tomorrow I will be ministering at a local church here in Kitale, and next week I will be teaching my Called to Battle spiritual warfare seminar over Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings.
This week has been all about travelling. I’ve already talked about the bus trip from Mongu to Kazungula on Monday, and the drive from Kazungula to Livingstone on Tuesday.
One thing I still have trouble getting used to in Africa is the random police/immigration checks along the roads. Most of the time we are just waved through, but on Monday we were stopped and I had to show my passport. It wasn’t a problem, but still a little disconcerting – and it means I need to carry my passport at all times.
Yesterday Muzamai took me to the crossing back into Zimbabwe to go to the airport (when I booked the flight I mistakenly thought that the Victoria Falls airport was in Zambia, but it is in Zimbabwe.) That meant that I had to get another visa to cross into Zim – I can’t believe that they charged me $30USD for a transit visa to be in the country for all of around 5 hours! (The same amount as a regular visa.) I was not impressed. Muzamai’s friend picked me up on the Zimbabwe side of the crossing and took me to the airport – I am very grateful for his help. Here’s a couple of pics I took while waiting for him – carrying heavy loads on the head, or loading bicycles or any other form of transport, is common.
Because South African Airways had transferred me on to a Fastjet flight, my cabin bag had to go as “drop and fly” which meant I had to take my laptop out of the bag and carry it separately. I don’t understand why it’s ok for a computer to travel in the front of the plane but not in the back of the plane, but them’s the rules.
When I got to Jo’berg I made the mistake of checking both bags, and keeping my laptop in the carry bag. I very quickly found that a laptop can get quite heavy, particularly when you are tired. I knew that Jo’berg is a big airport, so when one of the airport staff offered me a ride in a wheelchair I accepted. He took me through immigration and to the SAA check in, then asked for payment. I told him (truthfully) that I didn’t have any money and in any case I thought he worked for the airport.
It turned out the flight was a code share with Kenya Airways, so I found a trolley and walked to the other end of the terminal. Then I had a debate with the Kenya Airways check in girl, who didn’t want to let me board because I didn’t have an ongoing ticket from Kenya (even though my visa was in order). Eventually she accepted that I was going on to other countries and I was able to show her my return ticket to Australia at the end of April.
I was not at all impressed with Kenya Airways, but eventually arrived in Nairobi. Adams met me at the airport and we stopped at a hotel overnight before driving though to Kitale today.
I’ve mentioned before about seeing baboons and zebras on the side of the road, and they were there again today – unfortunately on the other side of the road, so we had to take a photo dodging the cars going by, but it worked.
Rest day tomorrow, then ministering on the weekend.