Day 6 - Tuesday Update

Erika, Scarlett and I made our second visit to Kwamhlanga. Dr. Sonja Miskin informed us that we would be going with Randy (Rose’s husband) and travelling with him throughout the city to observe his duties with MCDC. We stopped by the highway and Randy pulled up alongside in a car full of other Ndebele people. We learned of one of Randy’s duties already—giving villagers a lift through town.

We looked at each other awkwardly, wondering how we were going to pack into the already-packed car, but shrugged and squeezed in. One of the villagers greeted us with the Ndebele handshake that I was still trying to master. It was an upward thumb hook, then the regular customary handshake, and then back to the thumb hook. She smiled at my attempt to learn the shake and said her name was Agnes.

We got our first site of the orphanage as we dropped off a few of the ladies. They urged us to get out with them and take a look. We opened the gate to the yard and my leg was immediately embraced by a small child. I lifted her up and smiled into her grinning, mucus encrusted face. She was quite the cute little thing. She made me put her down so she could hug Scarlett and Erika as well. The child rotated from each of us continually so as to gain an equal amount of our attention. Erika again sacrificed her church candy.

After greeting several of the caretakers we were given a tour of the building. The manager, who’s name was Alex, gave us a PowerPoint presentation. We learned that the orphanage brought in about 120 children, ages 1 month to 18 years of age. The staff consisted of two teachers, four kitchen staff, and a few others to assist in extra aid. Needless to say, managing the orphanage looked like a challenge. After the presentation, Randy said we had to go check on a woman named Julia in the village. Two of the ladies who drove with us stayed behind at the orphanage and we returned to the car, this time with much more space.

We arrived at Julia’s, entered her shack, and greeted her. She was thin, her eyes red with exhaustion and tears. Randy talked with her and Agnes helped translate Ndebele. Agnes then kindly narrated the situation to us outside observers, joking that Julia had “awoken from the dead.” Apparently an extreme illness had almost taken her life but she had survived.

Randy talked with the woman and suggested that she join a support group that he would start for her and other people in the village. He suggested that the physical sickness might be coming from stress. She nodded her head. Agnes agreed as well, adding that when she was alone she “thought too much” and worried herself sick—literally. Julia spoke again and Agnes translated. Apparently Julia’s sister had stolen all her money and taken the food. Julia’s mother had also abused her. Randy said he would do what he could to provide food for her, but suggested we pray first. The Ndebele women looked at me and asked if I would pray. As I folded my hands one of the ladies ran to close the door. We learned later from Agnes that it was customary to shut the doors in KwaMhlanga when in prayer. In the darkness I asked God to help her with her physical inflictions, her financial problems, and more importantly her spiritual strength. The doors were opened and we walked back to the car.

Randy brought us back to the AIDS hospice where Dr. Miskin took us home. As we drove, Scarlett discussed with her mother the economic situation. Was colonization to blame for the blacks suffering? She made the point that no other continent seemed to struggle with such problems. Why was it that Africa was inflicted with so much sin, poverty, and suffering? Was it merely the lack of education that caused the problem? Dr. Miskin responded quickly, “No, education won’t solve anything. Martin Lloyd Jones says that you educate a sinner and he will only become an educated sinner. He will only become craftier in the way he sins.” I thought of Americans and how we had mastered the art so much it took lawyers and attorneys to charge someone with a crime.

Of course money and education was a major issue in KwaMhlanga—but perhaps the biggest problem was something that none of us could see and yet see so easily the affects it caused—a spiritual poverty.