It is Monday night in Jos. The Christ’s Image church, which has been loud-speakering their service into the street has shut down for the night and Benjamin’s, the bar across the street, has started their music. NEPA is (of course) off and the generator is roaring. Jen, a young pharmacy student is pouting because Baba has hidden the chips (French fries) away from her until the rest of dinner (which smells wonderful!) is ready. (Dinner and lunch is usually beef or chicken in a red or brown sauce served over chips, rice, couscous or pasta. Sometimes there are oranges (they are green here) – mostly there are fried plantains (like bananas) – once in awhile there is squash. Nigerians are don’t eat squash – it is used as feed for the animals. They think it is funny that we eat them.) Across the room, Pastor Rich and his daughter Kathy (from Ft. Collins, Colorado) are reading. Outside the rain is pouring down. I now understand what Genesis meant when it says that God opened the heavens to flood the earth. I have never seen rain like the rain in Jos. Sometimes it rains so hard when I am working at the clinic that I stop to run to the window and watch in amazement. Most of the roofs here are metal so the sound of the rain can be deafening. Ayo and Hannatu just laugh at me because I am in such awe of the power of the rain. They both agree that I should come back in two months when the rainy season really gets to going. On Sonday I went with Blessing to her church, the Christ Embassy Church. It is a charismatic church and believe me – you haven’t seen charismatic until you have seen Nigerian charismatic. It was an amazing 2-½ hour service. (I am getting spoiled with all of these wonderful 2 –3 hour services! I am loving them!) On Saturday I taught a class in basic bookkeeping to Margaret’s home crafts school. This school teaches widows to make crafts from home that they can sell to bring money into the family. It was an interesting experience because most of these women have less than a sixth grade education and many of them are functionally illiterate. I will teach the class on Tuesday again to the Faith Alive skills acquisition students.
I have had several romantic bubbles get burst while I have been here. The first one was the mosquito netting on the bed. It may look romantic in the movies, but I discovered that if you move around in the bed very much you run the risk of getting tangled up in it and ending up like Frodo in the Cave of the Spider. Often I wake up early in the morning and because I sleep with all of the windows open, I can hear the Iman at the mosque singing. It is a haunting sound and I have always imagined him climbing up to the balcony at the top of the mosque’s minaret to sing to his god in the darkness before the dawn. Today Ayo told me that there is a loudspeaker at the top of the minaret and that the music is a recording that is just turned on. POP! that bubble gone! The final bubble came last night. You know that commercial that shows a woman taking a bath by candlelight? She is lounging in her tub, blowing at some strategically places bubbles and the only light is provided by the candles that surround the tub? It looks so cool! That isn’t what happens here in Jos. There isn’t any running water so I take a bath by heating water on the stove, pouring it in a bucket, adding cold water until it is cool enough, then putting the bucket in the tub, standing in the tub, washing with soap and water, and using a smaller bowl to pour water from the bucket over myself to rinse off. If there are candles around the tub it is because NEPA (No Electric Power Again!) is off and the candles are providing the only light. I have learned (the hard way – don’t ask) that if you intend to bend over and wash your feet – you better know where that candle is.
Last Thursday, as I worked with Dr. Ogbeh, I mentioned how pretty many of the children were with their slender faces and great big eyes. Dr. Ogbeh looked at me like I was crazy. “See their big tummies?” she said, “They are suffering from malnutrition. We have them on the ARV’s but the drugs are not working effectively because the children are not eating well.” During the rest of my time with her I learned about malnutrition and the supplements that can help. Friday morning I asked Biana several questions about the supplements. As I was working later that day with Hannatu and Ayo, Dr. Ogbeh came and asked if I could look at a child. She explained that the child was from a rural tribe distant from Jos, and that the child’s grandmother had brought her because the child was listless and couldn’t walk yet. She brought the child and her grandmother into the room where I was and the child immediately started screaming – she had never seen a white person before and I terrified her. (I know what you are thinking – don’t go there) The child looked to be about one-year-old but was more likely about two. Dr. Ogbeh explained that the child was severely malnourished and needed help. Dr. Ogbeh had misunderstood when she and Biana had talked and Dr. Ogbeh thought that I had some nutritional supplements. I told her that I didn’t – but that I had the money to buy them – where could we buy them. Dr. Ogbeh said that she could get them at Juth hospital, that she would get them there. Naomi was with her and I pulled Naomi aside and told her that I had the money to pay for the supplements. I told Naomi to get that child what she needed and I would pay for it – that I was not going to stand there and do nothing while a child starved. Naomi agreed and she left. The next day Naomi came to tell me that the child had gone back to her tribe but without the supplements. “Why?” I asked her, “I would have paid for them!” “There were no supplements at Juth to buy.” Naomi answered. “But what is going to happen to that baby girl?” Naomi shrugged as she looked away from me, “The tribe is far from Jos, the grandmother probably can’t bring her back, and her parents are dead.” I knew what that meant. Unless something unexpected intervenes, the little girl has gone back to her tribe where she will slowly starve to death from the lack of food in general and nutritious food specifically.
Emily died on Sonday. She just wasn’t strong enough to keep fighting. All of the things I was going to say are gone in the face of my grief. But even as I grieve, I know that Emily is dancing – free and healthy - in the glorious eternal light that is Jesus. I will see her again and we will dance within His joy together. I praise You, LORD God, for letting me know Emily and love her. Thank You for Your promise.
My friends at Faith Alive have given me a Nigerian name. “Hajia Teloto.” Teloto means “woman born on Tuesday” – as I was. Hajia means “woman who has gone on a pilgrimage.” They gave me the name, Hajia, because I bought a hajia scarf in the market and started wearing it around my shoulders – not knowing that it is usually worn as a head covering by women who have gone on a pilgrimage to Mecca. I wear it now because although my pilgrimage was not to Mecca – it has been to Faith Alive and Nigeria where I have drawn so much closer to my Father, where I have experienced His grace, His mercy and His sovereignty.
It is now Friday – I have been writing this all week. Next Friday I will be home in Fresno. However – my pilgrimage to know Father better will continue.