I am convinced: Mozambican women are the strongest women in the world. Physically, spiritually, emotionally. They wake each day at dawn and trek to the river to collect water for the day, which they carry home on their heads. They bathe the many children they care for, and then begin the day’s food gathering and preparing. Maize is the staple of their diet, and a typical day consists of shucking, removing kernels, drying, sifting, and pounding the corn to then boil and make into “Sema” (a starch much like grits), which accompanies most meals. The women also wash clothes, assist in construction or other projects, and serve the men and visitors in the village. Many of them do all of this and more with a baby tied to their backs, and they serve with willingness and joy.
Enashe is one such woman. Born in the Sofala province of Mozambique (Central Mozambique: the hottest region of Africa and the region with the highest population of persons living with AIDs), Enashe and her sister Anora were orphaned at a young age and began living with their grandfather. When war broke out in Mozambique in the 1970s, they fled to nearby Malawi. After growing up in Malawi, Enashe married and soon after, she and her husband, Pastor Valli, returned to Mozambique and settled in Mutarara.
Because of her experiences as an orphan, Enashe felt God’s call to build a shelter to care for the orphans in Mutarara, and along with her husband and several widows, cared for over 30 orphans in their shelter by the Zambeze River. When the Zambeze flooded and destroyed the shelter, they rebuilt, knowing God had called them to this place, for these children. A second flood recently destroyed their shelter, and this time it was necessary to move inland, and take up residence in the homes of widows and anyone who would take them in, trusting that God would continue to provide for them and the children He had laid on their hearts.
Through all of the the trials, through raising six of her own children and being a mother to almost 30 others, Enashe continues to pour herself out to each person she encounters, praising God for His faithfulness and trusting in His daily provision.
Your robe should be golden, your robe should be perfect
Instead of this ragged concoction of thread
But may you be moved by its desperate beauty
To give us new life for we’d rather be dead
Then live in the squalor and shame of the slave
To the dance!
To the dance!
