A 'taste' of real African life

If someone asked you to help out and carry a bucket of water you would right? 
Imagine you are in Africa and they asked you  to do this, to go to the water supply and collect some and bring it back. You’d join in, think it was fun – an adventure maybe? 


Well, that’s just what I thought last week when we were on another community outreach project. We were at the home of ‘the triplets’ who are known to GSF as they were previously on the feeding programme. I walked to the home in a local village alongside a group of wonderful teens who were giving their afternoon to serve others and arrived at the one roomed hut. As soon as we arrived we started with cleaning, washing up, washing babies, washing clothes, washing floors and then realised that we were using the families entire supply of water that they had collected for that day. A group of us offered to walk to the water supply with a number of jerry cans. This is where my sense of adventure and ‘fun’ suddenly came to a stark realisation that THIS is not fun. I quickly came to see (and soon to experience for myself) that this is not fun for anyone round here - Not if you are collecting water instead of going to school and getting an education. Not if you have to do it 2-3 times a day, every day of every year. Not if you are old , your bones hurt and you have no one to help you. Not if you are balancing a can on your head, have one in your hand and a baby screaming on your back. As we walked to the water supply (around a 15 minute walk) we passed women and children making their way home. They were all heavy laden and did not look as though they were having ‘fun’. This is their life and they do not have the option of ‘having a go’ but have to go and collect water every day for their family no matter how young, old, tired or sick they feel.

We reached the water supply and filled our jerry cans. The ‘not exciting and full of adventure’ walk back to the hut began. The road felt long, it was hot and I had no idea what I was doing or which direction on the small winding mud paths we were to take. The children were telling me that I was meant to be carrying the water on my head. I had a 20 litre container, ¾ full (not full – we tried that initially but I couldn’t even lift it let alone get it all the way back!) and struggled to just about get it onto my shoulder. The walk was long and hot and I stopped frequently. The children I was with kept me going. They were struggling as much as I was but kept pushing forwards and were encouraging me too. How could I not do my best when each one of them were working so hard? Every time I stopped I had these 'Western' thoughts in my head of ‘if only I could call a taxi’ or ‘if I could get some help somewhere‘ - basically 'if only I could quit'! but these options were not available. We were carrying a precious load of water and could not just give up. I was getting annoyed with myself too with every drop that I spilled or slopped as I walked. This water was needed by the family and I was worried that if I dropped and spilt it I would have to start again. We got back and I got a big ‘Muzungu’ cheer being met by a lot of laughter as the local women watched me walk the last stretch still carrying the container on my shoulder. I was wet, (mainly from the water spilling but yes, a lot of it was sweat too!) had a red face to match my red t-shirt and looked a state but what a sense of achievement! It also made me think and understand what challenges village life really holds.

Following our return to the triplets home I got my breath back and we continued cleaning, sweeping, sorting and helping the family as best we could. Before we left I heard Auntie Juliana say that we needed to refill all the water containers so to leave the family with a full supply. If we did this the mother would not have to go again that day. My heart sank a little but then I pulled myself towards myself and remembered that this was not about me. I was here to serve and be the hands and feet of Jesus to this family. Off we went again, me with a much smaller can this time – I knew my limit and would never of made that trip again with the same amount of water in that big can!

We left the family after praying with them and saying our farewells. On our walk home we talked about the exciting parts of serving, the really hard parts and remembered the real reason why we had been there and why we were called to serve. The young people again had been amazing helping out in any way that they could in order to lighten the load for that mother even if just for a few hours. I had only a tiny 'taste' of what living a real African life must be like and have developed a huge respect and admiration for these people who I am growing to love more and more each day.

Romans 12 v 9-13 "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honour one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervour, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.