It's a long way to Magugu

Why do they think 5am buses are a good idea? Not only does it involve getting up when all respectable people are fast asleep, but it’s also a recipe for a bad night’s repose, as despite having set an alarm you are worried about not waking up in time. I was amused to see a man in his dressing gown at the bus stand, making sure his daughter got safely on her bus – I’m guessing he didn’t want to be out of bed at that time either! But his daughter was just one of many children getting on buses, as the one-month June holiday had come to an end and it was time for them to return to their schools. Many secondary school children are sent to schools some distance from home, either because their parents are sending them to a private school (which any parent who can afford it will do in the hope of a better education for their children), or because they’ve been assigned to a particular government school in another town due to their exam results (I don’t quite understand how that works).

I was dressed in a skirt (I find this makes using long drop toilets easier than wearing trousers, and enables you to be more discreet if your toilet break is a bush stop) and had adopted the classy socks-in-sandals look, for which I used to mock my dad! The thing is, it’s cold in Mbeya at 4.30am (the time I had to report at the bus stand) on a June morning, but it will be far from cold by the time we’re a few hours into the journey and have dropped down from the highlands. So socks in sandals are the perfect solution to needing to keep your feet warm at the beginning, but wanting cool footwear later. I also had on a cardigan, a sweater and a scarf. It really is chilly in June!

Why do they think three minutes is enough for a toilet stop, when there are only a handful of toilets to service passengers? So people push and shove to position themselves in front of a toilet door so they can get their turn as soon as possible, and women leave their cubicles still pulling up trousers as they squeeze back through the crowd in the narrow corridor to exit the toilet block. I was last to reboard the bus at this hurried break at Makambako, but being white I think I stand a better chance of not being left behind – I’m a bit harder to forget! At our second, and last, toilet stop just outside of Iringa, we were generously given a whole ten minutes, though this was also supposed to include getting food. My neighbour did so, and so for the next little while I was regaled with the smell of fried chicken and chips and the sound of her chomping away. I’d brought a packed lunch with me.

The route from Mbeya to Magugu,
about 670km (416 miles)

Eleven hours after boarding the bus I arrived in Dodoma, and was welcomed by Fred and Karen, my hosts for the night. They are a lovely American couple who have recently joined the team in Dodoma; so recently, in fact, that they are still setting up their house and only got their guest room bed from the carpenter two days before I arrived. Although they’re new to Dodoma, they have spent many years in Africa, and we are looking forward to the experience and wisdom they’ll bring to the team.

Monday morning was another unpleasantly early start, as Fred and I reported at the bus stand at 5.45am. We were shortly joined by the Tanzanian colleagues who would be travelling with us to Magugu. The journey involved about five more hours on a bus plus a short ride in a little mini-bus. I felt pretty rough by the time we arrived – dehydrated, tired and with a headache. However, instead of being able to collapse on a guesthouse bed, we headed to the church where we’d be holding the Sunday school teacher training workshop in order to meet and have lunch with the teachers who had already arrived.

Why do I put myself through all of this? Because God’s love compels me. I want children to hear the stories of the Bible in a language they understand, taught in a way that is engaging, so that they enjoy Sunday school and remember what they learn. And so I counted it a privilege (except for when my alarm went off before 4am on Sunday morning) to have an opportunity to train Sunday school teachers in the Mbugwe language area so that they, in turn, can more effectively help children engage with God’s Word. In particular, with the help of the Mbugwe translators and occasional input from Magdalena, a literacy/SE worker, I would be training them to use a set of Old Testament Bible story books translated into their language, which will help the children see God’s longing to be in relationship with the people he made and loves and how he has made that possible through Jesus.

It was wonderful to sleep until dawn on Tuesday morning, except for being woken by a black cricket that I found in the corner of my mosquito net. The shrill sound it emitted startled me into wakefulness. At first I thought it must be outside, but the noise was so loud that it didn’t take long for me to pinpoint its location, knock the cricket into a tub and throw it out the window. I was still tired, but ready for the first day of the workshop. Eleven of the expected fifteen participants had arrived, coming from the surrounding Mbugwe language area. Our first day focused on how the Bible is one story about the relationship between God and man, and how important it is to begin at the beginning in order to understand the story properly. The Mbugwe translators then spent a few hours teaching how to read Mbugwe. Its writing system feels more complicated than most of the languages that I have worked with in Mbeya, having various markings for tone and tense as well as having seven vowels. Then we started to read the Mbugwe Bible story books, getting through the first two, together with questions and teaching, before finishing for the day, rather later than we should have done.

The power went out as I was eating my tea that evening. I continued by the light of my solar light, had a cold shower and then noticed that a building across the way had lights on. Did they have a generator? I wrapped a kitenge (colourful African fabric) around me, to make myself respectable as I had been lounging around in my room in a t-shirt and leggings, and ventured out of the guest house. Everywhere else lights were on, it was only our guest house that was in darkness, but there were no staff around to deal with the situation. Fred called one of our colleagues, who had the phone number of someone who works at the guest house, and he shortly arrived and turned on the solar power which meant we got lights back, but there was still no mains electricity because the money on the meter had run out! He promised he’d go and sort it out straight away. I wasn’t convinced – I could smell alcohol on his breath and doubted that buying electricity was his first priority. The power came back on in the middle of the night.

On day two we worked our way through the rest of the books, breaking up the reading and teaching with children’s songs and games. I was tired by the end, but a brisk evening walk with Fred and a beautiful sunset sky, followed by a hot shower with good water pressure (a rare luxury) was very restorative.

I always find the teaching topics that we cover on day three the hardest to communicate well. After discussing how children learn and the importance of preparation, we started to look at how to plan a Sunday school class, exploring each part of what could be included in an interactive lesson. We talked about having an opening activity (and played a game together as an example), followed by a review of your previous week’s lesson, followed by an introduction to your new lesson and then prayer. Next comes reading the Bible story and teaching. It’s the ‘teaching’ that often stumps the teachers! I had prepared a simple curriculum for them providing the main teaching points and application for each Bible story book. I explained how they can use this as a base for what they teach, but that they should make sure they engage the children through questions, illustrations or examples from daily life as they go. I did an example. Then they prepared and practised in pairs. There were some good ideas in what they did, including little dramas, but for the most part they struggled to communicate the main teaching points in a logical and interactive way. I think what they really need is repeated opportunities to observe a good teacher, as well as time to practise and evaluate several times over. I think very few teachers have had the opportunity to regularly observe good teaching, either at school or in church, so a lot more support is needed to develop these skills than a few hours in a one-off workshop can provide.

Practising telling the Bible story using the Mbguwe books

While they were preparing to teach, I headed off to the other side of the main road with one of the translators in an attempt to find plastic wallets for the teachers to keep their books and handouts in. We visited four little stationery shops, but only found two such wallets (we needed twelve). It’s only a small roadside town, so this wasn’t particularly surprising, but I appreciated the efforts of the staff who phoned other stationery shops to see if anywhere else had them. The answer was no. So we resorted to buying small bags from a shop that also sold homemade peanut butter. If I hadn’t brought my own jar of peanut butter with me, I’d have bought some to sample – it’s a staple part of my diet; I love pure, unadulterated peanut butter. It was a very pleasant experience wandering around with the elderly translator, as no-one called out silly things in silly voices, unlike when I am alone. Magugu has to be one of the worst places I have experienced for people calling out "Mzungu!" or greeting you in a silly voice or making stupid comments.

After my evening walk with Fred, in which we did our best to ignore the secondary school students imitating the way we walked and trying to speak to us in English (but in silly voices), I was looking forward to another hot shower, but every time I turned on the shower, the power tripped and went out. I’d wait a few seconds, they’d switch the power back on, and I’d try again. I tried this several times and eventually gave up and had a cold shower! I had some work I wanted to do after eating my tea (the usual carrot sticks, cucumber, tomato, oatcakes, peanut butter and an orange, which was unfortunately so dry I ended up throwing half of it away, and some chocolate), but when it came to it I felt weary and unmotivated. It had been a tiring day. But there was so much to be thankful for, from the desire the teachers showed to learn, to the fun of playing games and singing together, to having Fred there to debrief with, to God’s weird and wonderful creation seen in the baobab trees and sunset skies.

The last day went well. They did a good job of putting memory verses to music or actions and had fun seeing different ways to do quizzes to review a lesson. At the end my colleagues from Dodoma and I each received a gift of a bag of rice, as Magugu is reputed to have delicious, aromatic rice. So we said goodbyes with smiles all round, phone numbers exchanged and invitations to come back. After another good walk with Fred, I was thankful that the shower behaved itself this time and I wouldn’t have to wash my hair in cold water.

Saturday morning, ready to leave the guesthouse

I was relieved to find out that our bus back to Dodoma would be coming from Arusha and therefore wouldn’t be arriving until 8am, so no need to get up any earlier than normal. By 7.30am we were at the bus stand. We waited. And waited. The bus finally turned up at 9am and our seats were right at the back. Thankfully several people got off at the next stop and so we were all able to move forward a bit so that we weren’t flying out of our seats over every bump. Occasionally a vendor would get on the bus at one stop to sell their wares and then get off at the next. One such vendor was a boy with a big pan of fried something. On closer inspection it turned out to be full of what looked like tiny roast chickens (each one no more than 10cm long). I have no idea what kind of birds they were and wasn’t sure I wanted to ask!

With Magdalena (back) and Emilia (front), colleagues from
Dodoma, as we wait for our bus

Fred arranged for a bajaj to come and pick us up from the bus stand, using Bolt, which is a service like Uber. A few minutes later it turned up, we squeezed in with our luggage and 15 minutes later had arrived at Fred and Karen’s house. It was wonderful to gulp down a glass of iced water and enjoy a baked potato and cheese, a refreshing change after a week of having rice or ugali, greens and a couple of pieces of fried beef for lunch every day. I enjoyed a quiet afternoon, doing a bit of work and going for a short walk before relaxing in Fred and Karen’s company over dinner and into the evening.

Sunday morning was another early start. We got to the Shabiby bus terminal (Shabiby is the bus company I used) just before 5.30am only to discover that my bus was at Dodoma’s main bus stand (despite a colleague calling to confirm the bus stand and time), but I was just in time to get on one of their other buses going to that bus stand. It turned out that most of the people on the bus were doing the same as me, so when we arrived at the big, almost empty, bus stand, we alighted and found our respective buses. Just after 6am we were off again. But instead of the 11 hours it had taken to get to Dodoma, it took us 13 hours to get to Mbeya, mainly due to the Prime Minister! We were held up twice by police, who were stopping vehicles so that the PM and his retinue in their shiny 4WDs could speed past to get to wherever they were going (I heard it was something to do with opening a new school). The second time this happened at least gave me a chance to get off the bus, make myself comfortable, stretch my legs and have a friendly chat with the bus conductor.

Sunrise from the bus, as we left Dodoma

During the journey I exchanged occasional remarks with the lady sitting next to me. At one point she asked the usual question (one of the first questions one is likely to be asked when getting to know someone) of, “How many children do you have?” When I answered none, she looked at me compassionately and asked whether I’d not been able to conceive yet. I replied, “I’m not married, that’s why I don’t have any children.” She looked at me in surprise, and basically said, “Why should that stop you?” I explained that as a Christian, I believe that children should be conceived within a marriage. She told me, “We don’t really worry about that here.” This was despite her telling me she was Catholic. Sadly this conversation was no surprise to me, because I have heard it before and seen it lived out time and time again, both inside and outside of the church. I’m sure there are many reasons why this is the case, though I think a contributing cultural factor is the high value placed on having children, such that it’s shameful for a woman not to have children and men will leave their wives or tell them to return home to their parents if they don’t conceive. In turn, this leads to women having children before marriage, almost, it seems, to prove that they are fertile before they’ve tied the knot (sometimes those children are had with the man they then marry, but often not).

Some way through the bus journey I really fancied a juicy orange. When a bus stops somewhere, vendors usually come running to the windows of the bus, holding up boxes of snacks and drinks or bowls of fruit or a particular local product (like when we stopped near a reservoir the vendors were selling fried fish). Oranges are often among the options – they shave off the skin with a knife, just leaving the clean pith underneath to make them easier to eat. So, when we came to a bus stand I looked out at the vendors. The only orange vendor was some distance away at another bus. Fail. At the next bus stop, I saw oranges and indicated that I wanted the vendor to come over but just as she arrived at my window our bus pulled away. Fail. At the next bus stop I saw my chance – the lady told me it was two oranges for 500 shillings, and just as I was about to hand over the money the bus conductor opened the doors of the under-bus storage, which rose up right in front of my window, preventing any further communication with the orange seller. My desire for an orange seemed doomed! But when the conductor pulled the doors back down, there was my lady holding up two oranges in a little bag and change ready for my 2000 shilling note. Stretching my arm as far down as I could, we were able to make our exchange. The orange was a welcome relief for my thirst, as I was afraid to drink too much water because there wouldn’t be any more toilet stops until we reached Mbeya several hours later.

Arriving at Mbeya’s central bus stand, I alighted from the bus, claimed my backpack and hoisted it onto my back for the ten minute walk home. It was heavy, with the big bag of rice (5 or more kg) in the bottom of it, but it felt good to stretch those legs and enjoy the cool evening air and the pink sky over the mountains as dusk turned to night. I’d enjoyed my trip, the teaching had been fun, the participants enthusiastic, my colleagues engaged and supportive, and the travel exhausting by safe, but it was good to be home.

Faith comes by hearing (and hearing in your mother tongue helps), in Umalila

June in the Umalila* is chilly, with the small town of Ilembo, where we were staying, being nearly 2100 metres (7000 feet) above sea level. On our first night there it wasn’t until I put on my coat to wear in bed that I managed to fall asleep! The guest house room bore the marks of a cold, damp climate, with walls looking in need of some treatment and paint, and the blanket on the bed was rather thin and smelt musty. I tried not to think about whether it had been washed since it was last used. I was glad we were only staying two nights!

(*Umalila: this is the Swahili way of describing the Malila language area – the ‘U’ denotes place, while if I were talking about the Malila language in Swahili, I would say ‘Kimalila’, and the Malila people are ‘Wamalila’).

The cold weather and unwelcoming guest house environment weren’t the only reasons that I was glad the trip would be short. We (my Malila colleague, Heri, and I) had come to facilitate a one-day seminar about the distribution of Malila materials, particularly the New Testament, followed by a day and a half of training on how to prepare and lead audio Bible studies. While discussing distribution is something I always find frustrating, this wasn’t the main reason for wanting the trip to be over as soon as possible. Instead it was the presence of a particular person who isn’t always easy to work with. I felt like I was walking on egg shells for much of the time, worried that I would say or do something to bring out the side of his character that can reduce me to tears.

Planning distribution trips

The first day was good but long, having left home at 7am in order to arrive by 9am, and then not finishing-up until nearly 7pm. Although we finished the meeting before that, there were various things to discuss with the Malila NGO* leadership, including a letter to edit that could be used to advertise where New Testaments are available for sale plus the printing and photocopying of said letter. Most small towns will have at least one small stationery shop where you can print and photocopy, so I took my flash drive to just such a shop and waited as he printed over a 100 copies of the letter, playing him some Malila audio Scriptures while he worked.

(*Malila NGO: this local organisation was set up to facilitate ongoing ministry in the Malila language area. It is made up primarily of former and current SIL Tanzania staff, local church leaders and other members of the community committed to seeing the local language Scriptures distributed and used and, possibly, an Old Testament translation begun. It is independent of SIL Tanzania, but we seek to work with them and support them in various ways.)

The path to Heri's house - just about
managed to negotiate it with my
Toyota Prado!

As usual, I was glad that I had brought my own food for tea, as lunch was distinctly unappetising. The rice was nice, but the three lumps of chewy beef in an oily tomato sauce were not. On the plus side, I was able to put in an order for day two to have greens cooked without onions or oodles of oil and salt. And very nice it was too, though the cook couldn’t quite get over the fact that this was all I wanted with my ugali! I had hoped to find some eggs to provide some protein accompaniment, but I failed on that front, so I chomped on peanuts instead. While on the topic of food – on Wednesday evening (day two) Heri asked if I could give him a lift to the house he has built (and continues to add to and improve) in Ilembo, so that he could greet his tenant and check up on it. Heri has been on crutches for a few years, since a motorbike accident, which is why he wasn’t able to walk the fairly short distance to this house along the rough roads and sometimes slippery, hard-packed dirt paths that would be difficult to navigate on crutches. His tenant welcomed us warmly and disappeared to prepare a little something for us. She apologised for the meagre fare, which was not meagre at all, a hotpot full of white sweet potatoes (it’s rare to get orange ones here), and was so happy that we had ‘blessed her’ by eating her food. People truly value guests here, and the blessing of having a guest is not complete until you have eaten something in their home. I find this to be both a humbling and beautiful aspect of the culture, while at the same time one that can be quite hard when coming from a culture where you generally only eat at someone else's home if you have planned in advance to do so. For me it’s a particular challenge because of my diet, as it would be rude to not eat anything, though the food offered isn’t always something that will be agreeable to my intestines!

The second and third days also went well, with people engaging in the audio Bible studies and showing a readiness to learn and a desire to use the audio Scriptures in their different contexts. They were encouraged by the testimonies of Majaliwa (the former literacy/SE worker for the area) of people coming to faith through hearing the Malila Scriptures. It feels like enabling people to read or hear the Scriptures in Malila is really important because their language is still being used by people of all ages. In contrast to our experience in the Vwanji language area just a couple of weeks earlier (see my previous blog post to read more), I rarely heard Swahili being spoken. As I listened in to people’s conversations (without understanding a word), I could hear that even most of the children and youth were using Malila.

Practising how to prepare to lead an audio Bible study

The audio Scriptures were on special audio devices that can be charged by a solar panel on the back of the device or by using electricity, making them ideal for rural situations. These ‘KULUMI X’ devices are smaller than a smartphone, so you can easily carry them in your pocket, and produce enough volume for a small group to sit around and listen. This wasn’t our first time to provide the Malila community with audio devices. After the Malila New Testament translation was completed it was recorded, and at that time we gave 40 audio devices to the Malila community. Having seen their impact, I wanted to increase the number out there, which I was able to do as a result of someone I barely knew leaving me and other Wycliffe UK missionaries a generous gift in their will. This gift not only funded the purchase of the KULUMI but also the costs of the trip as well as many other Scripture engagement activities in the past year.

Here are a couple of testimonies from people who received an audio device in recent years:

In March 2023, Huseni (who had recently come to faith through hearing the Malila audio Scriptures) listened to the Malila audio Scriptures with people at a funeral in Sanje. When one elderly person heard, they said they said, “God has decided to seek us out with our language, surely God is amazing!” The following Sunday, this person went to church and has become a believer and continues to attend that church in Sanje.

Eliza, in Ugaya, said that since she got an audio player she has been listening to it with the women at church and now these women have been strengthened and are able to lead Bible studies for the women without fear because they have come to know the Word of God well through listening to the Malila audio Scriptures in the group audio Bible studies.

Although we finished more or less on time on Thursday, around lunchtime, it then took a couple more hours to finish giving out money for participants to buy lunch and to cover their travel fares, and also for the participants to go and pick up boxes of Malila New Testaments and other books from the Malila language office a few doors down from the church. Heri and I went back to the usual café for a quick lunch (more rice and greens) before starting the journey home with four passengers crammed together in the back seat, who were dropped off at different points along the way.

I was very thankful for how God had answered prayers, such that for much of the time the individual who I was so anxious about had been engaged and supportive, though one or two blips in his attitude had left me on edge and battling to focus on why I was there rather than worry about what he might say. Despite that, it was clear to me that God was at work, and my prayer is that the participants will be faithful in implementing the plans we made and passionate about listening to the Scriptures with people in their churches and wider community.

In the beautiful Vwanji language area

Wednesday 15^th May

The day started like many other Wednesdays, with a 5k run around town, my usual breakfast of uji (see description below*) while reading the Bible and then… a slight change. I drove to work. Normally I walk, but today I had more than just my laptop bag to carry. There was my big rucksack filled with clothes, toiletries and other necessities such as toilet paper and a bag of food bits and bobs. I was ready for a week-long trip to the Vwanji language area.

Konga talking with people about language use

The trip would serve multiple purposes. My colleague, Konga, would be meeting with people from different villages and churches to ask about how the Vwanji language is being used at home and in ministry, and how the Vwanji Scriptures (print and audio) and other Vwanji resources are being accessed and used. Konga himself is Vwanji, and as part of his training to be a Scripture Engagement specialist (which he completed last year) he learned about the importance of doing research, both for needs assessment and to monitor and evaluate work, and he was keen to implement this training in his own language area. So rather than me taking the lead using ‘Outcome Harvesting’ (see previous blogs about this research method I was using last year), Konga would be the primary researcher while I get to do what I enjoy most – teaching. We’d start in the village of Ikuwo, where I’d teach a three-day seminar focusing on the book of Ephesians, as well as do an activity with children one evening, and attend local churches on Sunday. And then it would be onto the village of Matamba (the largest village in the Vwanji area), where the research would continue and I would teach a two-day seminar focusing on the book of Galatians. On our last d
ay we’d also have a meeting about New Testament distribution.

I’d loaded up the office Land Cruiser the day before with piles of books in the Vwanji language. Unfortunately, when we printed the first books of the Bible to be translated into Vwanji (Ruth, Jonah, Mark and the Pastoral Epistles) we printed way more than would ever be sold. (Over time we have got better at printing appropriate amounts, though it’s easy to be over optimistic.) So we stacked as many of these books as we could physically lift (though still leaving behind way more than we were able to pack) into big plastic boxes to take with us. Our plan was to give free books to people who attend the Bible seminars as well as to the people Konga would be interviewing, and to leave what’s left with the Vwanji Community Based Organisation to distribute.

I left the office after our morning coffee break, picking up Konga en route. We stopped at the town of Chimala, about two hours from Mbeya, to get some lunch, before heading off the tarmac and onto the dirt road for the climb up to Ikuwo. Thankfully we hadn’t had any rain for a week or so, so there was no risk of getting stuck in mud, however the road was very rocky, with occasional holes and dips that were very hard to see. Often we were crawling along at less than 10km per hour (I was running faster this this on Saturday in the Mbeya half-marathon, though that wasn’t up a steep hill on a dirt road)! After just over an hour on this road, a truck went past and stopped and beeped its horn. Wondering if they had a problem, we also stopped and Konga went to speak to them. It turned out we were the ones with the problem – they’d noticed that we had a flat tyre! The road was so bumpy that I hadn’t noticed anything was wrong! So we set to work, only to find a bit of the jack’s winding-rod was missing, so we had to improvise, and the jack wouldn’t go high enough so we had to find a suitable rock to balance it on. By this time, a couple of other trucks had stopped (unable to get past) and the crews had come to help and chat. An hour later we were on our way and, despite the last section of road being narrow and muddy, we arrived safely at about 4.30pm.

It was lovely to be greeted by the familiar face of the pastor of the Lutheran church where we’d be holding the seminar, who has also hosted previous workshops we’ve held in Ikuwo. After we had put our stuff in the guest house we stood outside chatting in the beautiful evening light. Later I left Konga at a café with a friend of his, while I continued to stretch my legs by accompanying a trainee-pastor, from the Lutheran church, on his way home.

After eating my tea (rice cakes, peanut butter, salad stuff, fruit and chocolate), I wanted to wash. It’s a simple guest house, so having a wash involved taking a jug from my en-suite bathroom (a very grand title for a small room with a long-drop, a tap and a bucket of water) to a big pan of water set on a small fire in the yard, to get warm water. It turned out the jug had a leak, so by the time I got back to my room I only had half a jug of lukewarm water for washing with! There was no bulb in the light fixture in the bathroom, so I propped up my solar-light and got on with getting rid of the dust of the journey.

*Uji: a kind of porridge made from a mixture of different flours – my preferred blend, learnt from a Tanzanian friend, is rice, maize, millet and peanut flours. However, I veer away from the way Tanzanians might make it by adding various other things to it, such as chia seeds, peanut butter, raisins and lemon juice, with a banana chopped into it at the end, and by not adding any sugar.

Thursday 16^th May

It turns out that my bedroom looks out on the yard of a children’s nursery, so after getting back from a beautiful morning walk between fields of potatoes, maize, wheat and sunflowers, I ate my breakfast to the sound of children playing outside my window. Thankfully the windows are reflective on the outside, so they couldn’t see in!

When we arrived at the Lutheran church, we stood around chatting as people gradually arrived. ‘Breakfast’ was provided – sweet black tea, boiled cassava and mandazi (a kind of fried dough, faintly resembling doughnuts without the hole); a standard Tanzanian diet is very high in carbohydrates. While I don’t dislike these foods, I prefer my homemade granola bar, peanuts and bananas! So I ate just enough to be polite.

We finally kicked off the seminar some time after 10am, with the focus of day one being on giving an introduction to the book of Ephesians, especially looking at where it fits into the big story of the Bible, and on practising to read Vwanji. There was a good turnout, with around 40 participants, all in some form of leadership or teaching role (from pastors to Sunday school teachers). All bar two came from Lutheran churches, which is the main denomination in the area. Lunch was rather late (2.45pm) and I struggled through rice and bits of chewy intestine, longing to eat the beans that were also provided, but knowing I’d probably regret it later if I did. As the seminar continued, the corrugated iron roof creaked is it expanded and shrank according to whether the sun was blazing or hiding behind clouds.

Practising reading Vwanji

After we’d finished, tidied up and chatted, I went for a short walk, enjoying the beautiful surroundings and the friendly greetings, before retiring to my room for the evening, snuggling up in bed to keep warm.

Friday 17^th May

Another beautiful walk, breakfast and a bit of work before heading to the church. I was encouraged to see that everyone was back plus one or two extras, and we had a good time working our way slowly through the book of Ephesians. I found it hard to tell how much they were understanding or discovering through our studies, as only a few people had confidence to answer and ask questions, but as far as it was possible to read their faces, it felt like most of them were engaged and listening well. Nyambo said people were enjoying it and saying that the seminar was too short, so I took that as a good sign! There were some good and some slightly odd questions and comments, and I appreciated the wisdom of some of the older pastors present as they shared their thoughts. Lunch was ready on time, and far more appealing to my palate, with chunks of meat and greens to go with ugali.

I felt tired after teaching all day and was happy to leave Nyambo and Konga to travel on motorbikes to a nearby village (where some of the seminar participants came from) to show the Jesus film.

Saturday 18^th May

There were eggs for breakfast today, which was a nice surprise. Local, free-range eggs are small, with a whitish shell, full of flavour with their lovely yellow yolks. And pumpkin – not something I’m accustomed to having for breakfast!

The final day of the seminar seemed to go well, with people sharing at the end how their understanding of salvation and grace had changed, or how they had been touched by the way we should love and forgive others because of how Christ has loved and forgiven us, or how it’s important to start at the beginning of a Bible book or passage to make sure we get the right meaning of the verses we want to read.

Composing a song using Ephesians 5:1-2, in Vwanji

Straight after the seminar, children gathered excitedly in the church. Many of them had already been waiting around since lunchtime, as they’d been told there’d be a special class for them in the evening. Altogether about 100 children turned up (apparently more than twice the amount that usually turn up to Sunday school). We had great fun playing ‘Simon says’ before Nyambo gave them a short lesson about Vwanji. Sadly we found that very few of the children could speak much Vwanji, which was something we had already started to notice during our stay there. Even Nyambo and Konga were surprised at how many children, including pre-schoolers, were using Swahili, compared to just a few years ago. It seems that one of the reasons is that children are beaten at school if they use Vwanji. This doesn’t bode well for the continuation of the Vwanji language or for the Vwanji Scriptures being used by the rising generation.

After reading a Bible story in Vwanji, and then in Swahili (realising that a lot of them hadn’t fully understood by hearing it in Vwanji), we had a quiz and finished with the Lord’s prayer (in both languages), and each child left with a simple Vwanji Bible story book to take home. Some of the kids followed us back to the guest house – I felt like the pied piper (a story that is apparently also told to children here)!

I was asked to teach in church the next day, so my evening was spent preparing for that. It would have been nice to just participate in the service from a back seat, but that was never likely to happen!

Sunday 19^th May

Finally, what I’d been hoping for each morning when we gathered for breakfast – potatoes. There’s something particularly enjoyable about eating new potatoes that have been pulled freshly from the earth in the very village where you are eating them. The high altitude and resulting cool weather create just the right climate for growing potatoes and wheat. The pastor was surprised to see me eating the tender skin; I attempted to explain its health benefits (but somewhat lacked the Swahili vocabulary to talk about digestion) as well as enthuse about how good it tastes, but I don’t think he was convinced!

I sat next to the pastor’s wife during the morning service, so that she could guide me through the Lutheran liturgy with her book of liturgy and hymns. The liturgy is full of wonderful truth and I enjoyed the calm, ordered service (somewhat different from the Baptist church I usually attend), though I did miss some of the spontaneity of a non-liturgical church.

When it was time to give offerings, a number of people came up bearing small bags or baskets of maize, beans, wheat or eggs to place beside the offering box. While it is not uncommon for people to bring an offering of food, it was my first time to see quite so many people doing this, perhaps giving a picture of the economy – people are not likely to go hungry with such rich farmland around, but they may have very little cash-in-hand. After the service they auctioned off some of the food gifts, so as to turn them into money that can be used by the church. I acquired some avocadoes, which someone bought for me!

At 3pm we began our journey to the large village of Matamba. Once again, we crawled along over the rocks, bumps and dips, alternating between first and second gear for much of the way, finally arriving in Matamba about 5.15pm. We visited the church where we’d be holding the seminar, and learned of a funeral nearby that had the potential to change our plans, as no-one would come to the seminar if a burial was taking place. The body was coming from some distance away (by the Zambian border), hopefully arriving that night.

Beautiful Matamba

It was a relief to finally settle in my guesthouse room, with the luxury of a table and chair, a good light, a tiled floor and a hot shower! I definitely needed the thick blanket, as Matamba is about 2160 metres (about 7080 feet) above sea level, and the evening air was distinctly chilly.

Monday 20^th May

I started the day with a beautiful walk along the road, as the birds sang and the sun shone on the fields and hills, giving me time to pray as I enjoyed God’s creation. Then breakfast. It was obviously going to be a day of eggs! It turns out the guesthouse provides breakfast (many do not, especially when you’re paying less than £5 for a room like I was), and while I couldn’t have most of the options (being made of wheat), I could have the eggs, so they gave me three! Yesterday, I had also been given a gift of three eggs, which I gave to Konga to boil at his home (although he lives in Mbeya, he comes from Matamba, and his younger brother lives in his old house). He brought them to me at the guesthouse, freshly boiled. I did not eat all six eggs! I stashed four away for later.

With the seminar not planned to start until the afternoon, I enjoyed a quiet morning, doing bits and bobs on my computer. I popped out at lunch time, walking down the road until I found a place selling chips. The vendor was very kind – seeing how cold I was she topped up a little stove with fresh coals and drew it across to where I was sitting, so I could enjoy my delicious plate of chips in the warm. One of the avocados I’d been given the day before made a good accompaniment.

I arrived at the church promptly at 3pm only to find the place deserted. A bit later Nyambo turned up, coming from the funeral; the burial had only just taken place, people wouldn’t be able to make it to the seminar today. So it was back to my computer.

Tuesday 21^st May

I really enjoyed getting into Galatians with the twenty or so participants that gathered together at the Lutheran church. The group were a bit more responsive than the folk I was with in Ikuwo, which makes it easier for the teacher! I also enjoyed beautiful walks morning and evening. A good day all round.

Wednesday 22^nd May

Enjoying the morning sunshine as they practised
reading Vwanji, while we waited for folk to arrive

The seminar continued until lunchtime. We had fun learning very serious truths through playing tug-of-war (illustrating how the desires of the flesh wage war with the Spirit, as Paul describes in Galatians 5:17) and we looked at the ways in which we may give the flesh an opportunity to pull us in the wrong direction and what we can do to give the Spirit more of an opportunity to pull is in the right direction.

In the afternoon we’d planned to have a meeting to follow-up a seminar on distribution that Konga had done in November with the CBO and people they’d chosen as distributors. Unfortunately most of the distributors couldn’t come, and those who did come didn’t have particularly encouraging reports to share. Effective distribution, leading to people really using the Scriptures, continues to be a huge challenge. We left them with the Vwanji books we’d brought with us and encouraged them to distribute them freely in appropriate settings (such as church services, children’s activities, to people who buy a New Testament etc).

We finally left Matamba at 5pm, with an extra passenger, Mahali. He is our Project Team Leader, who also happens to be Vwanji and who had returned to his village home for a few days to work on his avocado and passion fruit farm. (While many of our colleagues have built houses in Mbeya, most of them also have farms back in their home village.) The journey home took us up into Kitulo National Park – there were some magnificent views on the way and the wild moors of Kitulo have their own beauty, which I love. But I could see cloud ahead, and halfway across the moors we became enveloped in fog and the journey became an exhausting attempt to peer through the thick whiteness and avoid potholes, mud and rocks. Mahali kept us regaled with stories of childhood, when he used to walk to school across those moors, and of his translation consultant work with the Hadza people and their hunter-gatherer lifestyle, which helped distract me from anxiety over the painfully slow progress we were making and the fast encroaching darkness. We finally made it to the tarmac road at 8pm (it gets dark about 7pm) and I arrived at the office just under an hour later, having dropped off my colleagues en-route at places where they could jump on a bajaj (motorised rickshaw) to get home with their sacks of avocados. My car was patiently waiting in the office carpark, and soon I was home. Food, unpack, shower, bed. I was thankful to be safely home but also thankful for the opportunities the trip had provided to enjoy God’s creation and serve his Church.

Magnificent views as we left Matamba

Postscript

While I was in Matamba, the news came that Margaret Hill had left his earth and gone to be with the God she faithfully served. She was my tutor when I did my Scripture engagement training in 2007, and I have worked with her on a couple of different projects over the years. She was a remarkable woman, continuing to travel and consult into her eighties. She also taught Konga as he did his Scripture engagement training over the past three years, in Uganda, and as he said, “We have lost an important person.” I sat in my guesthouse room, in a Tanzanian village, and grieved her passing and thought about how she is one of the reasons that I was there, doing what I was doing.

Some people would call it an adventure

It’s rainy season, so you don’t expect the roads to be good, but they were even worse than I had anticipated as we travelled several hundred kilometres from Mbeya to Makete to Njombe to Kidugala and back to Mbeya over four days. The goal of the trip was to meet with the Kinga Community Based Organisation (CBO) in Makete, and then the Bena CBO in Njombe, to discuss distribution of New Testaments and other resources in their languages, before going on to talk to students at a Lutheran Theological Seminary in Kidugala.

My colleague, Konga, and I set off at noon on Tuesday in our project’s Land Cruiser. After about an hour we left the tarmac road, and the impact of rainy season on dirt roads quickly made itself felt as we started the gradual climb up to Kitulo National Park. This park isn’t for wildlife, though some seemingly elusive zebras are reported to exist, but rather has been made a protected area in order to preserve important sources of water as well as wild flowers including rare orchids. The road is frequented by lorries carrying produce (such as potatoes), which churn up the road in the rainy season, as well as a few small buses and occasional cars (mostly 4WDs like we were in).

Before entering the park we stopped off at village to get some lunch. Konga asked someone on the roadside where they’d recommend we go for food, and we were directed to a dingy café, with a couple of tables inside and a cramped cooking area outside. Despite external appearances, the food was good and the staff friendly, and I enjoyed ugali, greens and roasted chunks of beef. After we’d eaten, we made a dive for the car in the pouring rain and continued our journey. As we drove through the park, Konga pointed out where houses had stood, and a church once existed, before people were evicted in order to turn it into a preservation.

The journey included rain, fog, mud, puddles and holes as well as moments of beauty when the skies cleared and we could look across the wild moorland and see interesting plant life and gnarled trees. It isn’t so easy to appreciate beauty, though, when one is worried that they are going to have to spend the night sleeping in their car in the middle of a wilderness. This is what I feared would happen when we encountered two lorries that had got stuck in the mud as they tried to pass each other on the narrow road. We waited, and waited, with the occasional vehicle joining the queue behind us, while the lorries awaited help, which came in the form of a chain that another lorry then used to pull the stuck lorries, with some difficulty, out of the mud. We could have turned around and taken an alternative, longer, route, but that road is being worked on (to eventually make it a tarmac road, which will be amazing) and I had grave doubts about how good it would be if construction vehicles were using it. In fact, we’d earlier made a decision not to go to another Bible college en-route to Makete that would have involved using that road, because we’d heard reports that it might not be in good shape. So instead we waited as the rain fell, and then stopped, the skies cleared and then started to dim as evening approached. Two and half hours later, with much relief, we were able to resume our journey. But this now meant that it would be dark before we arrived. Some would call it an adventure, but driving on unfamiliar roads, engaging 4WD to avoid getting stuck in mud, in the dark and the rain, was an adventure I could have done without. With only a mile to go, we slipped into a dip and almost got stuck – the wheels were spinning and the mud was flying and we were going nowhere. Konga got out, examined the situation, suggested that if I turned the wheels hard to the right I might be able to gain traction and get out of the dip, and with a sudden lurch it worked!

We all wait for the lorries further down the road to get unstuck. Spot the cow!

Kitulo National Park

With relief, we finally reached the new tarmac road that starts on the edge of Makete and runs all the way through to Njombe, and a guesthouse Konga had stayed in before had vacancies and hot showers that actually worked. A trip that should take no more than about 4.5 hours had taken us about 8. But we had arrived safely. I ate, showered and collapsed into bed, snuggling under the blankets to keep warm as Makete is about 7460 feet (2274 metres) above sea level, and hence rather chilly at night.

On Wednesday morning we drove the short distance to the place we would be meeting with the Kinga CBO. Only a couple of people had arrived, but by the time we got going with the seminar we had around 15 people in attendance. After a substantial breakfast (chapattis, egg, samosas and milky tea) we got started. Once we had been formally welcomed by the chair of the CBO and introductions had taken place and a brief Word given, we were invited to continue. We began with a Bible study on the story of the Ethiopian eunuch, providing an opportunity to listen to the Kinga Scriptures and discuss the fact that distribution of the Scriptures is about more than just getting people to buy books, it’s also about helping people to understand what they are reading. So then we moved into hearing about what they have done so far in terms of distribution and discussing what else could be done, including how they will use the two new motorbikes they had just received from a partner organisation of SIL, which have been provided to support their distribution activities. We also talked about how to use the New Testament, making sure they all understood how to use footnotes, discussing the value of pictures and showing them the glossary at the back. Then we explored the Kinga Bible app with them, showing them how to download it from Google PlayStore and download the audio and create memes (putting Bible verses on nice backgrounds) to share on social media. We finished by mapping out their language area and places they felt hadn’t been reached much yet, discussing how much it would cost to get there and working out a budget to make initial distribution visits to those places. We will put the necessary money into the CBO’s bank account before the end of the month, ready for them to start using in May when the rainy season should be coming to an end. We hope and pray that they will use the money as planned and that their efforts will bear fruit.

A sunny morning as we waited for people to arrive, Makete

In the middle of all of this, we had lunch. At that point the rain was pouring down, and I felt sorry for the lady unloading big hotpots of food from the bajaj (motorised rickshaw) to bring them into our meeting room. As we saw the line-up of dishes, Konga and I looked at each other. When Konga had been communicating with the CBO about the seminar, he’d told them to arrange for a ‘normal’ breakfast and lunch, but what had been provided was definitely not normal, and we wondered what the bill would be. As feared, it turned out to be more than twice what we had budgeted per person! And then we had problems getting the receipt at the end of the day, involving another half hour’s delay when we wanted to be on the road for the two plus hour trip to Njombe. So we didn’t leave until 6pm, meaning that once again I had to drive along unfamiliar roads in the dark (it gets dark about 7pm). At least the roads were tarmac this time, but as it got dark it began to rain and there was also low-lying fog for much of the way, which made for tiring driving conditions as I strained to look ahead through the blur of the windscreen as the inefficient windscreen wipers swept backwards and forwards.

We finally arrived in Njombe and started to look for a guesthouse. The second place we tried turned out to be suitable, and I once again ate, showered and collapsed into bed. The next morning we headed to the Lutheran Centre for our meeting. We had met with the Bena CBO back in November, when we were able to give them MegaVoice players (solar powered audio devices) loaded with the Bena audio Scriptures for them to share around the community. So after the Bible study, we asked how the distribution of these players had gone. We were discouraged by the lack of implementation of some of the plans we had made at that previous meeting, which meant we didn’t feel it would be a good idea to follow the same strategy for the Bena as we had for the Kinga of mapping out the language area and planning trips. (That is basically the method we had used for the audio players, and it obviously hadn’t worked too well, which we think is largely due to the people in the group – their personalities, their age and being few in number. I guess we’ll find out whether it’s that or something else when we compare to how well the Kinga implement the plans we have just made with them.) So instead of the mapping exercise we asked that after they have met again they should share their plans with us for how they will use their two new motorbikes for distribution, and we will give a contribution to the fuel to get them started.

We also adopted a different food strategy in Njombe, giving them money to go and buy lunch for themselves, which meant we could stay within our budget. It turned out we had been more than generous with the 5000 shillings we gave them, as just across the road we got lunch for 2000 – 3000 shillings (less than £1)! This is what I am used to paying in Mbeya too, but last time we’d gone to Njombe we’d ended up at a surprisingly expensive café and so had left with the impression that food there was more expensive than in Mbeya, hence we had set a higher meal allowance.

We were able to finish in good time for the next leg of our journey to Kidugala. The Bena CBO thought it would be good if one of their leadership came with us to the Bible college, so that they could build a connection with them as it is within the Bena language area. So Ng’eve (who used to work with us many years ago) dropped everything and came with us – he didn’t even go home to pick up a toothbrush, but just came along as he was! Once again the road was bad, but bad in a different way. Before we had hardly left the town of Njombe, we turned onto a dirt road, which was pitted with small holes that were hard to avoid and made for a very rough, slow ride – much of the journey was taken at 20mph or less! At some point the road improved, but then we encountered a much worse problem. Slick clay. The car slid and slipped all over the road, despite being in 4WD, it was like driving on ice. I had very little control and crawled along at about 6mph! Thankfully it wasn’t like that the whole time, but there were long stretches that were, and I feared that we’d end up in a ditch or, even worse, hitting a pedestrian strolling along the side of the road oblivious to the fact that I wouldn’t be able to stop the car if it decided to slip in their direction. At least we were doing this journey in daylight! Thankfully we arrived safely at the college just as darkness fell.

On arrival, all I wanted to do was lie down and close my eyes, but instead we sat and made polite conversation with the college principal while our rooms were prepared. We were provided with hot water to bathe and then invited to the staff room to eat. After downing some rice, chicken and avocado, I made my excuses and left them to talk over a cup of tea, while I retreated to my room, tucked the mosquito net securely around my bed (I had killed several of those little beasts in my room already and could hear many more) and read for a while before putting in earplugs (so that I wouldn’t hear the mosquitos) and falling asleep. Incidentally, there was no need to use mosquito nets in Makete or Njombe, as due to the altitude and cool weather there are very few mosquitoes there.

I was rudely awakened at 5am by the sound of the church bell clanging, but I dozed for another hour before getting up. We attended the 7am service for the college and secondary school students (there is a school connected to the seminary) after which the school students left and we took our place at the front of the hall to talk to the 120 or so seminary students gathered there. We discussed barriers to people reading and engaging with the Bible and the fact that one of these barriers can be language. We then talked about language use in ministry, showed them the various resources available in local languages (such as the New Testaments, Bible apps and audio Scriptures) and answered questions. We sold a significant number of Bena New Testaments, as well as a few in other languages. All in all it felt like a worthwhile visit and the teachers seemed to appreciate what we had to say.

Flowers in Kitulo National Park

Finally it was time to return to Mbeya. Konga learned to drive recently but has very little opportunity to practise, so I let him drive for the first hour along a good dirt road, before taking over when we reached tarmac. He told me how a lot of the driving instruction he had received was delivered sitting in a classroom or being one of several taking it in turns to drive a car. It wasn’t until he gave the instructor some extra money that he finally got some independent lessons until the instructor said he was ready to go solo. There was no driving test. I think I had every right to feel slightly nervous as I sat beside him, but it was good to see even within that hour how he grew in confidence.

When we reached the tarmac road we dropped off the person who had come with us so that he could catch a small bus back to Njombe (a more reliable option than trying to get a bus directly from Kidugala back along those dodgy dirt roads). Further on Konga and I stopped for lunch at a roadside café and then continued our journey along the sometimes straight, sometimes smooth, sometimes ruckled and sometimes potholed road back to Mbeya. I dropped Konga off near his home and finally arrived back at the office about 3.30pm. Some people would call it an adventure, but I was just thankful to be safely home.