AFRICA
Sept 25th 2008
Where do I start in Africa?
Africa is far removed from the meltdowns of Wall Street and the international financial crisis. The average Ugandan on the streets of Kampala really doesn’t care. They’re already the poorest of the poor anyway. Africa is far from the “post modern depressed, bored and listless western 21st century peoples” and far, far away from the madding crowd. Time is less of an issue there; it’s very “Ishite”. Things are done around 7ish 8ish 9ish 10ish and “Ish” is never really defined, it could be anything from an hour to a day late. Always late never early.
Sept 29th 2008
African Ugandan drivers are like Kamikaze pilots on methane amphetamines at the best of times, but rush hour traffic brings out the maniac in them. I spent most of my time with my eyes wide and my mouth wider in a silent scream as fear robbed me of my voice. The roads actually have two lanes, but you’d never know it. Sometimes there are as many as 4 cars side by side all going in different directions, then the boda bodas (motorcycles) weave in and out. It’s expected that no one is polite and you shove your car through traffic to get anywhere.
Kampala rush hour traffic Ugandan style.
The main streets of Kampala are like a mud bowl mixed with excrement. The stench in midday heat was almost over powering and everywhere about us people struggled to survive. One night I was getting some air outside the conference venue when two uniformed men appeared at the end of the alley with another man caught between them. The officers then proceeded to beat the man with their fists. There was much shouting and yelling and the guy was getting a beating. I was shocked and a little unsure of what to do. A woman from the conference who spoke English told me it was very foolish for me to be in the alley as it was known to be frequented by robbers and murderers. The police had caught the man stealing and were administering street justice.
I was more careful in the future.
Nov 2nd
Amongst all of this poverty and filth is our friend Pastor Godfrey who runs an orphanage and school. Walking through the school compound gates is like entering a portal into another world where the school is encased in a cloud of peace so far removed from the erratic demands of the city outside. The students are clean, well dressed and well fed. They live in dormitories that sport bunks with mattresses and blankets for each child. They have books and pens and well ordered classrooms. The children are hungry to learn and very attentive of any information you can impart to them. Ps Godfrey is himself an orphan, he knows what poverty is but when he speaks he tells us that he is rich in Jesus. His faith and the evidence of that faith was a testament to me of Gods willingness to bless those who will only believe.
Nov 4th
The heat was energy draining, suffocatingly, mind blowingly HOT!!! I preached and taught sometimes twice a day and many hours were taken up with traditional welcomes before we were given the platform. Preaching after waiting 3 hours in stultifying heat is a rare opportunity to exercise a preaching technique commonly known as “WAKE UP!!!”
Conferences were generally for Pastors and the leaders who attended were men responsible for 10 and sometimes as many as a 70 churches. Here was little ol’ me, a New Zealander from the great Southern continent of Australia come to share Gods word. Sometimes I’d be speaking to as many as 400 leaders, men of stature and substance, and be almost overwhelmed by attacks from the enemy of self doubt that would invade my mind. But I knew that God had called me to Africa and that the message I carried was from Him. It was at those times I could literally feel the prayers of people who were lifting me up to God. I would be exhausted and deflated and as I got up to speak I’d feel energy and vitality begin to supernaturally fill me.
Much of what we taught was for Pastors but on occasion we would preach at local churches in the area where we were ministering. One of the places I spoke in was a small church that was situated in a predominantly Muslim district just outside Kampala in Uganda. The church was mostly made up of women, some married to Muslim men, some widows. Many of them were unable to afford a bible. Some of them were infected with the Aids virus and some with malaria but unable to afford the drugs that would cure them. They came to God with prayers and requests that only He could answer. My heart was filled with Christ’s compassion as I prayed for these ladies believing with them for miracles.
Nov 7th
On our way through Kenya we stopped to take photos of the wild life. A baboon took a liking to my lunch and tried to steal it from out of my hand. Being bullied by an angry male baboon is a "unique" experience but a good ol’ down under boot in the face soon sorted him out. Just like the old days with dads pig dogs.
Nov 14th
There was heart breaking poverty all around where we ministered and most Africans live without the basic necessities that we westerners expect. Yet there is joy in the simple things of life like the gift of a bible story. Children and adults break into praise and worship easily and their unabashed joyful dancing and singing puts us Westerners to shame
In Malawi I helped with the dinner. Stirring a kind of porridge gruel and the staple diet of the
people there in a huge cauldron. Day after day they eat this food and are glad for it, I felt ashamed when I couldn't eat it.
Nov 25th
I'm home!!! Uganda Kenya Malawi South Africa so far removed from Melbourne. It's so good to be back with the family halleluiah. Now each morning I get up and have a shower and thank God from the bottom of my heart for municipal companies that provide electricity to heat my shower water and water that actually comes out of the taps. I get dressed, go make myself a cup of coffee and as I settle into a comfortable chair to drink it I feel very blessed....... I went to Africa thinking of all that I could do to bring about change to Africa but came home knowing that Africa had changed me.
Sept 25th 2008
Where do I start in Africa?
Africa is far removed from the meltdowns of Wall Street and the international financial crisis. The average Ugandan on the streets of Kampala really doesn’t care. They’re already the poorest of the poor anyway. Africa is far from the “post modern depressed, bored and listless western 21st century peoples” and far, far away from the madding crowd. Time is less of an issue there; it’s very “Ishite”. Things are done around 7ish 8ish 9ish 10ish and “Ish” is never really defined, it could be anything from an hour to a day late. Always late never early.
Sept 29th 2008
African Ugandan drivers are like Kamikaze pilots on methane amphetamines at the best of times, but rush hour traffic brings out the maniac in them. I spent most of my time with my eyes wide and my mouth wider in a silent scream as fear robbed me of my voice. The roads actually have two lanes, but you’d never know it. Sometimes there are as many as 4 cars side by side all going in different directions, then the boda bodas (motorcycles) weave in and out. It’s expected that no one is polite and you shove your car through traffic to get anywhere.
Kampala rush hour traffic Ugandan style.
The main streets of Kampala are like a mud bowl mixed with excrement. The stench in midday heat was almost over powering and everywhere about us people struggled to survive. One night I was getting some air outside the conference venue when two uniformed men appeared at the end of the alley with another man caught between them. The officers then proceeded to beat the man with their fists. There was much shouting and yelling and the guy was getting a beating. I was shocked and a little unsure of what to do. A woman from the conference who spoke English told me it was very foolish for me to be in the alley as it was known to be frequented by robbers and murderers. The police had caught the man stealing and were administering street justice.
I was more careful in the future.
Nov 2nd
Amongst all of this poverty and filth is our friend Pastor Godfrey who runs an orphanage and school. Walking through the school compound gates is like entering a portal into another world where the school is encased in a cloud of peace so far removed from the erratic demands of the city outside. The students are clean, well dressed and well fed. They live in dormitories that sport bunks with mattresses and blankets for each child. They have books and pens and well ordered classrooms. The children are hungry to learn and very attentive of any information you can impart to them. Ps Godfrey is himself an orphan, he knows what poverty is but when he speaks he tells us that he is rich in Jesus. His faith and the evidence of that faith was a testament to me of Gods willingness to bless those who will only believe.
Nov 4th
The heat was energy draining, suffocatingly, mind blowingly HOT!!! I preached and taught sometimes twice a day and many hours were taken up with traditional welcomes before we were given the platform. Preaching after waiting 3 hours in stultifying heat is a rare opportunity to exercise a preaching technique commonly known as “WAKE UP!!!”
Conferences were generally for Pastors and the leaders who attended were men responsible for 10 and sometimes as many as a 70 churches. Here was little ol’ me, a New Zealander from the great Southern continent of Australia come to share Gods word. Sometimes I’d be speaking to as many as 400 leaders, men of stature and substance, and be almost overwhelmed by attacks from the enemy of self doubt that would invade my mind. But I knew that God had called me to Africa and that the message I carried was from Him. It was at those times I could literally feel the prayers of people who were lifting me up to God. I would be exhausted and deflated and as I got up to speak I’d feel energy and vitality begin to supernaturally fill me.
Much of what we taught was for Pastors but on occasion we would preach at local churches in the area where we were ministering. One of the places I spoke in was a small church that was situated in a predominantly Muslim district just outside Kampala in Uganda. The church was mostly made up of women, some married to Muslim men, some widows. Many of them were unable to afford a bible. Some of them were infected with the Aids virus and some with malaria but unable to afford the drugs that would cure them. They came to God with prayers and requests that only He could answer. My heart was filled with Christ’s compassion as I prayed for these ladies believing with them for miracles.
Nov 7th
On our way through Kenya we stopped to take photos of the wild life. A baboon took a liking to my lunch and tried to steal it from out of my hand. Being bullied by an angry male baboon is a "unique" experience but a good ol’ down under boot in the face soon sorted him out. Just like the old days with dads pig dogs.
Nov 14th
There was heart breaking poverty all around where we ministered and most Africans live without the basic necessities that we westerners expect. Yet there is joy in the simple things of life like the gift of a bible story. Children and adults break into praise and worship easily and their unabashed joyful dancing and singing puts us Westerners to shame
In Malawi I helped with the dinner. Stirring a kind of porridge gruel and the staple diet of the
people there in a huge cauldron. Day after day they eat this food and are glad for it, I felt ashamed when I couldn't eat it.
Nov 25th
I'm home!!! Uganda Kenya Malawi South Africa so far removed from Melbourne. It's so good to be back with the family halleluiah. Now each morning I get up and have a shower and thank God from the bottom of my heart for municipal companies that provide electricity to heat my shower water and water that actually comes out of the taps. I get dressed, go make myself a cup of coffee and as I settle into a comfortable chair to drink it I feel very blessed....... I went to Africa thinking of all that I could do to bring about change to Africa but came home knowing that Africa had changed me.
