Life in Lubombo is very simple. The children go to school, the mothers go to work in the fields, the GoGos (grandmothers) tend to the homesteads and community gardens, and the fathers are truly nowhere to be found. They eat simple meals when they have the funds to eat- mostly maize porridge and vegetable beef stew. The school buildings are very plain one room areas with a few black plastic chairs for the learners. Little ones walk around talking to the white people saying “Saobona” and climbing up us to squish our faces and play with our hair. After they’ve squeezed all of the interaction possible into their two-hour lunch break, the primary schoolers scurry back to class where they learn English, SiSwati, Geography, Math, and Science.
Yesterday, after a trip to Matata to buy some water and bread, I arrived back to our humble home somewhat flustered by the multitudes of children that surrounded us as we carried far too many groceries. I finally made it into the kitchen where I grumpily flopped down everything I was carrying onto the middle of the floor. I took a deep breath to release some of the fluster I was feeling. As I started to sort the bags into their designated locations, I heard this very sweet voice calling into the team house. “Mayeziwe…. Mayeziwe? Mayeziwe!!!” (My-ez-ee-way)
A small smile crept across my face because I knew it was the little girl named SeSwanele (sess-wan-el-ay). One week prior to this encounter she had given me the name Mayeziwe, which is loosely translated to God saying “Let it be done”. I turned around to greet my sweet little friend with a smile and a hug. I stepped over a few children to get to her and see her little school uniform and tender eyes. Right when I was close enough to hear what she was saying, Seswanele said, “Mayeziwe! I want you to come to my homestead right now. Are you ready??”
I quickly grabbed Daniella and Shad offered to come, too. Off we went! Life is seriously so unpredictable here! Part way through our walk, SeSwanele pointed over to our host’s home on the side of the road. It’s your average American town house with a garage, but it sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the local homes. She looked at her friend who was holding my other hand and said something in SiSwati. They both looked up at me and said, “It is so beautiful” as they pointed at the grey, small by American standards, completely normal home with no grass. SeSwanele is very well-kept: her hair is clipped and her shoes are nice and her clothes look clean and in-tact. Honestly, I looked at her each day after ministry and thought she was one of the richest kids here, but as she marveled at the beauty of an average American home I knew I was in for a change of perspective.
We walked another kilometer or two and arrived at a metal, creaky gate. SeSwanele’s smile was so huge because she had brought guests home. To say that her homestead, where fifteen people live, was simple would be an absolute understatement. The first structure we entered was a round mud-hut with a straw roof and a tree branch in the center as a supporting beam. There were three mothers, one GoGo, and about eight naked children in that one hut that was probably 14 feet in diameter. Their laundry was hanging to dry in this hut and there were a few straw mats laid across the dirt floor. We had the honor of talking with these women for a while before SeSwanele gave me a tour of the rest of her homestead.
The kitchen was an open structure with a wooden roof and one semi-large dutch oven. The next building was a bedroom… by that, I mean it was a concrete floor with one full-sized bed. I asked my friend if that was her bed. She replied to my question with a scoff and a foot stomp on the cold floor… “I sleep here.” Each night, she lays out a straw mat where she rests her head to sleep. There was one other bedroom on the property along with a very wilted garden. That’s it. That’s all they have.
We talked and listened for a couple of hours in the main hut that the GoGo built. We decided to pray for them and asked for their prayer requests. GoGo asked for help with her leaky straw roof and one mother asked for money for water and food. We prayed over them and they all showered us with thanks, saying, “Siyabonga. Siyabonga. Siyabonga.”
As we walked out toward the road, I asked the seven-year-old SeSwanele if I could pray over her. She smiled that precious little smile and said, “Would you pray that I can have new shoes?”. I didn’t realize it, but she had taken off her school shoes in her room and had been meandering around bear foot because she wanted to have something nice to wear at school. She also has a small infection on her back that she asked me to pray for because they couldn’t afford the doctors.
Yeah, that hurt my heart. I prayed for her and we left.
The assigned ministry here is pretty simple: hang out with the primary schoolers, play with them, teach a lesson about the Lord, go home. To me, the most amazing ministry is with the little ones that we get to build relationships with and disciple.
There is so, so much more to be done here in Swaziland. I am so happy to have another week here, but I hope the Lord is planning for me to return someday.
That’s all for now!
Laura 9.26.17
P.S. Mom and Dad, I am 100% alive and healthy and haven’t been eaten by a snake! Love you guys and the family and miss you all. <3
