Two days ago, I woke up to a phone call at five in the morning. The voice on the other end said, “Mcolisi stopped breathing.” At first, I couldn’t believe it. This is the little child who God holds, who God placed in our hands to take care of, who we’ve prophesized over, who many people in the world is praying for; I couldn’t believe it.
In Swaziland, the funeral for young children happens within 24 hours of the death. So, our team worked together to arrange people to tell the mother, the community, arrange food for the family and funeral, wait for the hospital to give us a death certificate and take the baby, arrange for a coffin, drive to Nsoko. I didn’t realize how much had to happen when a child dies in teammates’ hands. After many hours of running around town, we carried “Moses” in the coffin to the mother’s house…
Handing the baby over to the mother was a time I will never forget. Traci, Aaron, and I rode in the back of a truck during the night. The sky was completely black with the stars shining ever so brightly. As I rode in the back of a truck, the wind hit my face and thoughts of Mcolisi flooded my mind. I love the child so much – having only lived with the little one for two weeks. The night sky made it very difficult to find the 6 foot by foot rock and stick house in the middle of a field. We had to retrace our tracts from the care point to the house, following the trail the children walk everyday to find food to eat. We were carrying the coffin as we hiked throught the field to the house, where we found three go-gos (grandmothers) from the community under a tent, made from large sticks and old plastic sheeting, extending from home. I glanced inside and a candle in the corner of the small hut lit the mother’s face up as she hunched over the coffin weeping. The mother barely able to move herself grieved the lost of her eighth born child. Traci gave her a hug, as Aaron and I prayed around the homestead. It’s a sight I can never forget.
The next morning we woke up at 5:30am to be at the funeral at 6:00am. Our team sat outside greiving with the mourners from the community. Seth gave a message on our time with Moses and how much God loves them and sees them hurting and is hurting Himself. We sang songs along with the women in the community, and then proceeded to the cemetery, where the men were finishing digging the grave. I walked hand-in-hand with the middle sister, a beautiful child, as the mother slowly walked with friends on each side holding her up. The mother is so weak from being very sickly that she had very little strength to walk the entire time. Seth carried her like a baby for part of the way and a go-go put her on her back to carry the rest. When we arrived at the gravesite, we sang songs, as the men finished chopping sticks to place on the coffin in the ground. The community and team helped to bury the baby by placing rocks and dirt on the coffin and gathering rocks to put around the grave. We shared how the child, although only six weeks, has changed many lives around the world and challenged many to do something about a reality happening here in Africa and around the world.
This is an everyday occurence in Africa; it is disheartening, but it is reality. Situations like this can drive us in two directions. We can either sit and sulk, allowing the situations to consume our lives or allow it to drive us into building God’s Kingdom in new ways. After all, we know our job is to take care of widows and orphans; we cannot deny that this is TRUE RELIGION.
