It was our second day of doing medical outreaches. We were stationed in Nyawa, but travelled to different health posts scattered in the surrounding areas. This day, like the one previous, our task was to work with mother and child health. Mamas from all around brought their babies—wrapped on their backs— to the health posts. Along with the children, the mothers carried health cards distributed from Zambian hospitals at the time of birth. We weighed the children, recorded the growth patterns, took health records, and administered vaccinations. I was increasingly confident about my skills administering vaccines with each one given. They call it “giving jabs”.
Zach and I sat next to each other, giving jabs. He filled the syringes and Ruth, the Zambian nurse, & I gave injections. Never have I made so many babies cry in my life. In total, I probably helped to vaccinate about 80 children that day. We worked well as a team, helping to prevent measles, TB, diphtheria, pertussis, polio, pneumonia and rotavirus that day. The lines of women slowed, and we started to pack up. There was a large group of women waiting outside the school building for a talk on health. The day before, we were able to share about spiritual health—and the only way to receive healing from the spiritual disease of sin—in addition to sharing about physical health and hygiene. I looked at Zach and said, “Let’s share God’s word”! As soon as the words left my mouth, the wind started to pick up.
Dust swirled around and the villagers started to running around, yelling. Dirt and wood pieces started flying through the windows. I ran beside the wall between the windows to avoid being overwhelmed by the swirling dust. As I got there, I heard a huge crashing noise. The tornado drills of my childhood took over me, and I dropped to my knees, covering my neck with my hands. The noise got louder. I was hit with a chunk of something, and started mentally preparing myself: “nat, the roof may fall down. Prepare yourself. The building may crash down on you”. I stayed curled in a small ball, covered in dirt, for a few more moments until the chaos calmed. I stood up, slightly disoriented from the sudden change of atmosphere, and looked up. The roof, composed of metal sheeting, had been completely ripped off the school house.
Zach and I ran outside. He went to the front and I went around back of the building, looking under the wreckage to make sure no one was trapped. It was pandemonium. People shouted and ran, looking in dismay at the school building. As it turns out, they were also looking at us, the white people, who brought a tornado to their village. I scanned the crowd and was shocked to find only two people with injuries. One child had been bumped by wood; no bleeding, no bump. I told Zach to pray over the little girl, to hold/rock her, and to give her an apple. He did, and she calmed down shortly. As he tended to the child, I brought a woman bleeding with a head wound into another building. The nurse and I tended to the woman: shaving parts of her head around the wound, cleaning the blood from her body, and sterilizing the injury. I was nervous she would go into shock, so I kept telling her to breathe deeply and remain seated. She was incredibly calm, even as the gash nearly revealed her skull.
Zach went and talked to the people: ensuring that it wasn’t our skin color that brought the storm, teaching the duck and cover position, and leading the group in thankful worship for the God’s protection.
Only minutes before the ‘tornado’ hit, all of the rooms of the building were full: with mamas holding babies and with classes of schoolchildren. None of them were harmed. He provided resources and a team of people to care for the woman that did get hurt, and protected her from further injury. God did miracles that day.
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. – Psalm 91:1-4
