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TITLE: August in Turkana By yvonne north 09/20/09 |
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Part 1
The Journey into God’s Protective Arms
‘Twas the night before mission when all through the house,
Excitement was stirring both inside and out.
It was August and once again we, thirteen members of the Turkana Team, donned our sandals, Masaai blankets, and head scarves. We boarded the Ngiya Health Centre ambulance and headed for Kitale the gateway town to the Turkana Frontier. It had been a night of prayer, worship and feasting. At 3:00 am the loading of luggage & supplies stirred the neighborhood into action. Well wishers gathered at the doors of the vehicle offering prayers and last minute blessings.
The Turkana Mission Team had been meeting for overnight prayers and planning sessions since April and despite many set-backs and discouragements, we were finally rolling out of the paddock. The four hour trip to Kitale in our over loaded vehicle was rough, the space was cramped, and about half way to there the right rear brake stopped working; but spirits were high and we arrived at our destination at 7:30am, right on time.
In Kitale the last of necessary supplies and bus tickets were purchased then we all boarded the Eldoret Express to Kakuma. Three hours later, still sitting and waiting for the bus to move, it was decided that we needed to change buses because of mechanical problems. It took another hour to exchange the luggage and supplies to a second bus before we could continue with our journey. Nine hours out of our home village of Ngiya and we still were on the wrong side of the mountains.
Finally the “Bus Pastor” boarded the bus and began praying for our journey. This is a service performed for all buses going into Turkana. The prayer and blessing of the bus lasted so long that the pastor accompanied us to the edge of Kitale Town. Maybe he was gifted with a word of knowledge or maybe he heard a newscast with warnings, all I know, is he made certain we got the full blessing treatment.
At last the bus was rolling, and most of the passengers fell asleep. I would have participated in the serenade of snores except for the fact that I was seated in the front of the bus next to the most miserably vocal baby in the universe. The poor baby was hot, tired, sweaty and very angry with anyone who tried to comfort him...much less touch him. The child fussed and whined as the bus snaked its way through the coiled mountain landscape. After two hours of the baby’s non-stop fussing, the driver lost his calm demeanor and began to threaten the child’s mama he would throw her and her child off the bus if she couldn’t find a way to quite him. Everyone in the front six seats took turns entertaining the child, these six seats included mine, the white lady with the funny long nose just perfect for grabbing. The nose game was a distraction for a little while and was played several times through-out the trip. My little friend was calmed for a few minutes and then passed on to the next lucky contestant for entertainment duty. As the child grew quiet, so the driver grew calmer and peace was restored on the bus.
We reached our first comfort stop at the base of the mountains and consumed some lunch, admired our swollen feet and dashed back to the bus. The bus driver turned on a music CD at an earsplitting level, hopped behind the wheel and leaned on the horn to call stragglers aboard. It seemed the driver was nervous and wanted to get underway. The security men (bus bouncers) were checking everyone who was boarding, examining bags and tickets. It was evident something was going on that no one was talking about. A couple of hours into the drive, we were stopped by a lorry and told that there were bandits on the road and to be very careful. To punctuate the point we could hear automatic gun fire in the distance. After a few minutes the shooting stopped and we continued on our journey as though nothing had happened, well, perhaps we did put some weight on the gas pedal. The trip to our next destination, Lodwar, was tense. We were all listening for gun fire, worried eyes were glued to the windows searching for possible signs of danger, the music had been turned off, my little friend had fallen asleep and a vacuum of silence hung over the bus. The pleasant chatter and the customary passenger movements from seat to aisle to seat were curtailed. Suspicious looks were cast at all new riders we picked up on the way. Tense minutes ticked away and turned to hours.
We reached Lodwar without further incident or warnings, took a few minutes to greet our Mama Gigi who keeps bed mats and kitchen supplies at her house for us. After happy greetings and prayers, our equipment was loaded on the bus and once again we were on our way for the last leg of the journey to Kakuma. Just two more hours on the bus; two more hours before the work would begin.
The skies were darkening when we arrived in Kakuma and waiting to greet us at the roadside was our host. He had been monitoring our progress through telephone messages during most of our journey, but lost contact when we left Lodwar. He had been gravely concerned for our safety because there were reports of attacks on the road all the way from Kitale to Kakuma. It seems a lorry traveling directly in front of us and a bus right behind us were both attacked as they traveled they traveled the Lodwar and Kakuma Road: but for some inexplicable reason we, in our blessed Eldoret Express bus carrying food for the hungry, medicine for the sick, clothing for the naked and thirteen weary missionaries escaped un-scathed. Prayers from every corner of the earth were heard and answered.
Our first lesson on this mission: GOD is our Shield & Protector...and the adventure had just begun.
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