Busi was a great experience for Eric and I. For very different reasons. He was able to experience many aspects of a rural tribal African culture, and meet the people we had been living among for 2.5 years. I, on the other hand, was able to sit and eat with loved ones I hadn’t seen in almost 2 years. American’s have a saying. “Time flys.” But time stands still in Africa, you just can’t understand until you’ve been there. We were in Busi a total of 2 days. At the end of the first full day, Eric said, “It feels like we’ve been here a week.” And it did. We walked 12 kilometers just between two people’s houses in the hot sun. Plus all the walking around the village to visit friends and neighbors. That alone is enough to exhaust a person.
I was struggling with anxiety the first day because sharing the Gospel with my Muslim friends was intimidating to me and emotionally stressful. But I was able to keep everything under control knowing that it’s not me that needs to save, but God. I just need to be faithful to obey what He’s asked me to do.
The second day we woke up and went for breakfast at Mama Shadia’s house. It was Patrick, Cloud, Eric and me. This 20-something lady was our house help for more than a year. She came to our house every day and swept and did the dishes. In Rangi traditional fashion she set us in a room and served us chai and mandazi (greasy cake-like donut holes) then she left. In Rangi culture the guests eat alone while the family is in another room and serves them. Very unsocial.
I knew the time was coming when we needed to share. So, I called Mama Shadia in and began sharing why we came to Busi. I proceeded with the Gospel and then I asked Cloud to wrap it up. It was really great and she received it well. Out of all my friends, I think she is one of the most open.
Then we walked around and casually greeted some neighbors and friends. Patrick mentioned that he had some women he was studying the Bible with and asked if we could share the gospel with them. We agreed and trekked about 4 kilometers to the next village. We found the 3 women and began sharing. Very soon, their grandmother came and sat with us. We asked that Cloud mostly speak to them because of time and culture and where they were in their spiritual journey. Cloud is a great evangelist. He spoke for a long time. Eric also chimed in once in a while and Cloud interpreted. After more than 30 minutes, their grandfather arrived and everyone shut up. The women said they didn’t wish to continue with him around, so we agreed that Patrick would follow up and continue studying with them. Cloud commented that the grandmother was especially receptive to the gospel.
After that we had to hurry back to Busi for lunch with Mr. & Mrs. Jordan, my close neighbor and surrogate grandparents. Lunch with him was good, but not as I had hoped. It was good we were able to see his family the first day, because this day she was in the field working. But we sat in our room alone again eating hacked up chicken legs and feet with ugali (cornmeal mush). There was almost no meat, just bones and flesh and ligaments, etc… But the soup it was boiled in was delicious. Afterward, Mr. Jordan came in and we began talking to him about Jesus. He has heard the gospel, but I was checking with him if he ever thought about it. He said no. We shared a little and then he began saying that we believe in the same God and he is too old to switch religions. Rangi people are Muslim and he is a Rangi. Jordan spoke adamantly for several minutes. Toward the end of our conversation, the call to prayer sounded at the mosque and Jordan asked to be excused to pray. We agreed and I asked Cloud to finish things up. Cloud did a great job saying last minute things about Jesus. When Mr. Jordan got up I said, “When you go to pray, pray to Jesus!” He laughed as we all did and said, “No! I will pray to Mohammed!” We parted friends.
Then we went to the farthest family we know. You walk to the next village, Sambwa, where Jared and Megan use to live, and turn toward the mountain. Walk through fields for 30 minutes and you will arrive there.
Backstory: During our first year, our direct neighbor Mama Chezma and Amani, were going through a difficult time in their marriage. They were our best friends and Mama Chezma, or Alima, was at our house everyday laughing and hanging out with Miranda. She would help around the house and just sit and talk. We gathered Peter to help us do marriage counseling with them and things were looking great, but one day they got a divorce and she moved away to Dar Es Salaam. We never saw her again. Fortunately, during the marriage counseling, through Peter, we were able to share the gospel to them both on a couple of occasions.
While we were out greeting, I stopped at Alima’s aunts chapati stand to greet and I asked about Alima. She said she was in town. I was so excited! So, that’s why we were walking to the ends of the earth to meet this family.
As we walked up to the remote property, I shouted, “Hodi!” The traditional greeting for coming up to a house. Alima from inside the house shouted, “Tanga!” The Rangi word for “welcome.” She stepped outside the door and about freaked out when she saw it was me. It couldn’t have been scripted better. It was a perfect reunion. I only wish Miranda could have been there. The whole family came out and they began preparing food for us. We found out that she was here because her brother just died of a tooth infection. He was 20-something.
I began talking about Jesus and immediately she became restless and withdrew. I asked Cloud to inquire about it. It turns out she married a person like an Imam in Dar. He’s a spiritual leader for the mosque. She has no Christian friends and he has turned her completely against Christianity. I reminded her that Miranda and I are her friends and we are Christians. She agreed. She was friendly the rest of the time and it was an emotional good bye.
From there we walked back to Busi and headed for Mama Petro’s house to rest. We were about to tip over from exhaustion when Kijuu pulled up on his motorcycle. It was still day light and we were ready for bed.
We caught up with Kijuu and he told stories about his Bible translation work. I was blessed to be with him again. Despite how tired I was, I was glad when he said he was still willing and interested to show the Rangi Jesus film. He mentioned he had people that wanted to see it, back in Isysumia of course. But fortunately, he had a motorcycle, so Eric and I jumped on the back and we went to the next village.
We sat with the family and Kijuu joked with them and talked with them for a while and then we set up the projector on the side of the girls’ house from our TIMO team because it has white walls on the outside and it’s located on the side of the main road. Several people came from the road to watch and Kijuu left it all in the charge of his friend.
We returned to Busi to have dinner at the other doctor’s house, Mr. Senge. He wasn’t present, but his wife is mainly who we know anyway. Unfortunately, the doctor has come down with Parkinson’s. He was a strong healthy man when we left.
After dinner we returned to the film. Unfortunately, it was cut off toward the end because the battery died. That’s to be expected out here, as our film in Sumve a couple years ago shut off 3 times during it, because the generator ran out of gas.
It was kinda good because it built up anticipation and the people really wanted to finish it. So they agreed to invite the neighborhood and Kijuu agreed to come back in a couple days to finish it. How great to be invited back by Muslims to show the Jesus film!!
We returned to Mama Petro’s house completely spent. Her house is where we were sleeping that night. There’s no greater feeling than being utterly spent for the gospel.
Sleep came so quickly to us that night.
