As a kid, there was always that one meal your parents would cook that you despised and would refuse to eat, but they’d tell you to be grateful for your meal because there are kids all over the world that have no food. There would also be days that you didn’t feel like going to school, and you would complain about how boring it was, but your parents would tell you to be grateful for a good education. I knew what they meant by saying this, but for the first time in my life I got to actually see what that looks like.
I spent this past week in a village right outside of Tsholotsho, Zimbabwe. My team lived with a man named Ndaba, and his family in a tiny, bright pink house. Ndaba is a man of great godliness and is so humbly and unapologetically himself. He’s selfless, caring, compassionate and determined. His faith is like none I’ve ever seen before, and he’s always obedient to God’s calling for him, even if that means sacrificing a well–off life in Cape Town to move back to his hometown to share the word of Jesus.
On our first day there, Ndaba wanted to show us around the village. Our windows were down as we drove around the town and we were greeted with dozens of smiles, cheers and a popular Zimbabwean greeting, a thumbs up. I instantly fell in love with the people’s joy and big hearts.
During the middle of our drive, Ndaba pulled over and told us there were some people he wanted to introduce us to. We met two young men, who were working on digging a well. They told us that for eight months, they’d been coming here everyday, trying to find water. Every morning, the people in their village would walk miles and miles to get to the nearest well, so they want to make things easier. They receive no pay for this; they do it all out of the kindness of their hearts. The well is forty-five meters deep and there is not one sign of water, but still they haven’t lost hope and trust that God will provide.
Women play a very traditional role in their families. They typically stay home all day, doing chores such as cooking, cleaning and probably the most important, fetching water. The well is crucial for survival, being that it is the only source of water. And they rely heavily on it to do almost everything. Each morning, my team would help collect water, and let me tell you, it’s a whole lot harder than you’d think! We took about twenty, huge buckets with us to fill up. The guys on my team would pump the water for about thirty minutes straight, while the girls would gather up the buckets. We’d put some of the buckets on a wheelbarrow and for the rest that wouldn’t fit, we’d carry them on our heads, like most of the local women do. After about two minutes of trying to balance it on my head, my neck would begin to cramp up and water would come trickling down. Meanwhile, there were women using no hands, walking miles back home, who got a kick out of watching me. I was in awe of the strength and discipline they have to do this every single day.
Something else I was in awe of was the education. Public school costs about a hundred dollars a year, which is really expensive here. Most parents either can’t afford to send their children to school, or keep them home to help support their families by finding ways to earn money. It’s also very rare for people in villages to own cars. Therefore the kids are forced to walk to school. Kids ranging from the age of five to eighteen walk anywhere from five to ten miles to school and back everyday. These kids could easily, and understandably, be frustrated and upset, but instead they make the decision to choose to enjoy the walk and each other.
Ndaba has a nine year old daughter, who we called TImba since we couldn’t properly pronounce her full name. Her school was having a talent show,so invited us to come. We got to watch traditional African dances and listen to them sing in their native language, Ndebele. Afterwards, we were given a tour of the school and it was hard to imagine that this was a place of teaching. There were big holes in the ground and walls of the classroom, wasp nests, broken chairs, smashed windows, papers scattered everywhere, walls peeling and no doors for the bathrooms (which consisted of a tiny hole to in the ground to use). It was dull and dreary and broke Ndaba’s heart, as well as mine, to see that this was the environment where his daughter was being taught.
We aslo helped Ndaba with the corn and peanut gardens at the church, that he’ll give out to the members once it’s grown. We’d be in the field by 7:00in the morning ready to plow and plant, and by 8:00am the hot, African sun would already be beating down on me, resulting in me being drenched in a puddle of sweat. Between Ndoba, the three older women, and the six of us, we were able to finish the gardens in two days. By the end of the day, my muscles were sore and I was beyond exhausted, but it was eye-opening to experience farming in God’s way and how the people receive their food.
My favorite part of the week had to be when we’d go house to house to meet the different families and pray for them. Everyone we met opened up their homes to us and welcomed us in with gratitude and friendliness. There were a few families that touched my heart. I met this one man who lived in great poverty and took care of his fifteen grandchildren, along with his wife, since their parents were living in South Africa where there are more job opportunities. He can barely feed all of his grandchildren, so they often skips meals. I also met an eighteen year old girl who takes care of her mentally challenged older brother who can’t speak, since her parents also work in South Africa. What do these two families have in common? They seek out the good and blessings God has given them, even when it may feel like they have nothing.
This is what working hard to meet the basic needs of living looks like. The people here may have little, but they have such a big faith. They trust entirely in God, and love one another as one big community. These people were some of the most joyful spirits I’ve ever come across, and all I can say is God is busy working through the people and the village. And I am truly blessed for having met them and experienced life with them.
