The Shamba Baby

Each time I go visiting children, there are lots of stories.  However, when I heard this story I knew right away that it had to be told.  So here it is:

It was 1996, a usual day in Mabatini for one Mama who had to gather firewood for cooking.  She went out to the nearby farm (“shamba” in Swahili) where she often picked up sticks and dry wood.  Today as she went from place to place, carefully putting the sticks into her bucket, she heard a crying noise and she thought it to be rats, a common rodent in the fields.  However, as she kept working the crying continued and seemed to be coming from one area, and not moving around, as a rat would move.  Curious she left her bucket and walked in the direction of the sound.

Much to her dismay, she did not find any creature but rather an infant baby wrapped up in some old clothes.  Though her cry was weak, at least she was alive.  The mama carefully picked up the baby along with her bucket and went home.  Right away she left for one local church, pastored by our administrator, William, and told the members the story.  They went to the police and made a report and then to the hospital. Doctors told Pastor William that if the baby was to survive, someone had to take her and care for her.  After two days, the mama who had found the baby decided to take her and care for her, though she had two children of her own. Church members also helped to provide for the child.

And so began Neema Chacha’s life.  She grew healthy in the only family she knew with a mother, father, brother and sister.  After some years, the mama passed away and likewise her father, which left Neema with the other siblings.  Her grandmother decided to take her to the village where she lived.  Neema lived there for almost a year but it proved to be a difficult, tramatizing one.  Neema was ostracized and rejected by the villagers because she was not a native of the village.  Even her grandmother abused her verbally and emotionally.  Finally she brought her back to Mabatini at which time Pastor William took her into his home for a period of four months. 

After learning that their adopted sister was back, the sister and brother with whom she’d been raised came to request permission to take Neema home with them and continue to care for her.  Pastor William agreed to this as he could keep oversight of the family.  So, Neema returned to her home, the only home she had known, to stay with her sister and brother who have cared for her till the present time.  Neema is a beautiful, bright young woman now, 14 years old and going to Form 1 (grade 8).  She likes school and helps all she can around home.  She is very quiet but friendly and has a beautiful smile.  As I heard the story and watched her, I realized that I was looking at another of God’s miracles, a child with a great meaning and purpose in life.  I wonder what God’s plans are for her and the reasons for such a mighty deliverance.  I thought about Moses who was drawn from the water by Pharoah’s daughter, and though the facts of the story are quite different, I wonder if some of the purpose might be the same.  When we see people, we fail to understand the God-given purpose for that life. It warrants reflection and increased reverence of our awesome, omniscient Creator!

Through ChildCARE Plus, sponsors have had opportunity to support this “shamba” baby and everyday the opportunity presents itself again and again, maybe not the same story but the same impact is made on the life of a child.  What a privilege!  What a wonder!  What a blessing to be able to give and support the plans of God.  May He give us increased sensitivity so that our souls know very well how wonderful are His works!! (Ps. 139:14)  May each of us be granted our own “Neema” so that the wonder of God’s loving care is always fresh and amazing.

When the Gift starts Giving

Jesus said, “Freely you have received, freely give.”  We must be able to come to the pace where we know and believe that everything we have comes from God.  This is truly the key to having an attitude of thanksgiving along with an attitude of giving.  When we really own nothing, then it is no trouble to give it away. And when we realize how much we have and that it comes from God’s hand of blessing, then we cannot help but praise Him more and more. 

I’ve been thinking much in these past few weeks about the sacrifice of Christ and how sufficient it was and how much freedom it brings us.  I was listening to the song by Vicky Beeching that says, “May I never lose the wonder, the wonder of the cross.”  The words of the verses are awesome and as I listened I felt such freedom. I felt so privileged that Jesus died so that we could live in total freedom and happiness.  He died so we could live this life in the way the Father intended, in relationship with Him, enjoying the gifts and blessings. I feel honoured that God has blessed us with choice, that He allows us the privilege to choose, asking only that we include Him in our decisions and desire to please Him.  When we have this attitude He then chooses to bless our decisions and be involved in our lives.  This is amazing to me.  This is the gift of true life.

Knowing He is so loving and giving, we begin to live for His glory and honor.  That’s when  all the gifts He has given us begin to flow over into the aspects of everyday life so that people can sense the happiness and joy He gives.  When we live in the attitude of appreciation, feeling the blessing of God, people will see Him in us.  I met a sister from Japan this past Sunday.  It was our first meeting and we could not communicate well but she touched my face and said, “You are happy.”  That’s what people need to see, they need to know we have hope in a hopeless, desperate world and we will have an answer for them when they want to know where it comes from. 

This gift of life and being trusted by God to live as His children is not meant for selfish gain.  It is meant to be given to the world who needs to see Him.  Jesus came to show the Father, He revealed Him freely to us, and just as freely we are to reveal Jesus to the world.  I want to have a genuine desire so that the decisions I make are most pleasing to my Saviour and that my appreciation to Him will gain His smile of approval and bring Him joy.  May the gifts I receive be a continual spring of giving.

levels of poverty

It seems to me that life in the city is not so bad.  There is poverty.  People live in little one room houses made of mud or brick, where everything they own is in sight.  They cook over a little charcoal burner outside, or inside when it rains too hard.  There may be only one bed for 5 people but usually there’s a bed.  The floor may be mud or dried cement but it’s flat and they keep it clean, as clean as possible.  Roofs may be a little tin covering but still a covering, or if straw covered with sticks as well.

However, today I took another trip outside Mwanza to the town of Magu.  It’s more of a village area. There, ordinary life is again different.  Poverty is more severe.  It means partial straw roofs that give many openings for rain.  It means stepping onto rugged dirt floors, as if you’re still walking up the pathway. It means a little room, or maybe two, that hold everything which is practically nothing and you suppose that little bit of straw in the corner is the mattress. Through ChildCARE Plus, you’re happy to see one boy with a sponge to lay on.  It means that when Kija puts on his good shirt for a picture, you still find no buttons hold it together.

And then you see the house where three sponsored children once lived but they’ve moved because some people cut off the limbs of the grandmother they lived with when they thought she was involved in witchcraft.  They hoped to kill her but she’s still alive and they still live with her, no doubt taking care of her.  However, the positive side is they still have a grandmother.  And some people think the world is over when there’s a line at the bank machine or when it takes 15 minutes to drive through Tim Horton’s or when the pastor doesn’t ask them how their week went!  To be “sheltered, clothed and feed” has different meanings for everyone and most times those who aren’t understand it better than those who are!

One Story

                 Before dawn breaks the prayers begin from the Muslim mosques.  Around six the sounds of traffic begin to emerge.  Some crickets are still croaking, a hundred different birds are singing, monkeys are screaming, cows are calling, insects are humming, dogs are barking.  The smell of burning bundles already wafts through the windows which are never closed.  By seven the whole place is alive. Roosters are crowing. Drums are sounding.  Mothers are calling.  Children are playing and preparing for school.  Merchants are rolling carts or riding bicycles to their shops.  Boys are leading their goats and cows to pasture.  Drivers are sounding horns as warning signals.  Trucks pass through the city blasting various commercials to attract consumers.
                Just an ordinary morning in Mwanza, a city of about one million people in northern Tanzania. It cannot be compared to any place in America.  The sights, sounds, smells, are all unique, all part of another environment, another culture.  It’s filled with life and in many cases the life is filled with difficulties.  Here’s one story:

Her name is Mwameni, a mother of three.  Her oldest son Juma is 5 years; the next, Joseph is 3 years; and the youngest, a girl Buya, is 1 year and 5 months.  Most days Mwameni works at a rice factory where it is dirty and dusty.  She also tries to earn some extra money sometimes by carrying luggage for people or digging.  Her husband of ten years died when the baby daughter was just 5 months old so she has to earn a living somehow.  She is one of the fortunate who found a job.  Today Mwameni is at home because her baby has been sick for four days already, no energy and not eating.  It may be malaria or something else.  Unfortunately Mwameni has no money to take Buya to the hospital for examination.  As she sits in the 5x6 ft mud room she tells of her struggle to pay the rent, having to sell a prized radio that belonged to her husband, perhaps the only cherished thing that remained.  Buya sits quietly in Mama’s arms, innocent and helpless, as her mother tries to decide what action to take. Mwameni herself is not well.  She oftens coughs a lot due to her working conditions.

                Just one story, but one that could be repeated a thousand times in a thousand places and still be true.  Life goes on, it has to go on as long as there’s breath. However, for some people the pictures becomes a little brighter when someone from another country, a richer country, decides to open his or her heart and give a little.  That little can make the difference between sitting helpless with a sick child or taking her to a doctor for help.  It can change the “ordinary” by shining a little bit of hope! 

Coming Home!

Canada is a wonderful country.  I love it and every Canadian should feel a sense of pride and gratitude!  It's Thanksgiving weekend but I'm stepping on the plane to return to Tanzania, a different country, a new home.  There's no sense of regret or sadness but rather, as I view my residence permit, a sense of thanksgiving that I now have two home countries.  When I enter Canada, they stamp the passport "entry in to homeland" and when I enter Tanzania they also smile and say, "Oh you're a resident" and ask no more questions.It's a funny, good feeling, a feeling of pride and also a reminder of Philippians 3:20 "For our citizenship is on heaven from which we also eagerly wait for a Saviour."And I think of how it will be when we finally enter the final homeland.  If we feel a sense of pride here on earth, what will we feel when we pass the final entry point and realize we're home?? Think of it next time you put your feet up and say "It's so good to be home!"

Excitement

You know you're living the dream when everything in your being feels free and at peace.  Jesus said He would give peace but not peace like the world. This peace is fuller and much more liberating.  It's a peace that knows you are where you need to be, not from an earthly perspective but from heaven's - knowing you are in God's will.  Nothing is more important, nothing is more fulfilling.