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June 2000
Dear Friends and Family,
I have had more energy to enjoy life and work since the last
letter. Doctorwise, we have been back to three, and I was able
to return the in-charge roll to Neil Kennedy when he returned
from Ireland. So, more time away from work to visit friends and
places about Malawi, more time to rest and renew instruction in
the local hand-built pottery.
Over Easter I was able to go south to visit Phoebe Chirwa and
her new husband, Ignatius Phiri. Phoebe was a nurse at Embangweni
until December when she married and moved to Blantyre with her
son and the three nieces she raises who are AIDS orphans. Ignatius
is a good man who has joyfully moved from being a bachelor to
being the head of a large household. Please pray in thanksgiving
for the many people who care for the increasing number of orphans.
Mwawi Nyrongo, whom many of you know from last year’s choir
trip, has relocated to the Synod’s hospital in Livingstonia.
We met for a long weekend at the lake shore, and, along with two
other friends, became the guests of Chikufwa Chihana, the winner
of the 1992 Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights Award and president
of AFORD, the opposition party. He was gracious, and Mwawi’s
questions prompted him to recount his years of imprisonment and
torture, his exile and education, the road to ending Kamuzu Banda’s
dictatorship, and some humorous stories as well.
"Democracy in Malawi," he said, "is like a day-old
baby. It needs a lot of nurturing, is very vulnerable, but it
is a miracle it is alive." Please pray for the bumps Malawi
faces in its journey toward democracy, as we await the high-court
rulings on the validity of last year’s election results.
I restarted my pottery instruction when my neighbor’s mother
came to stay, and she began moulding pots. My last teacher died
of breast cancer, and, emotionally, I had resisted looking for
another teacher. And yet, I rejoice for a few hours when I listen
to this elderly woman’s Chitumbuka instruction, watch her
experienced hands, and learn the appropriate pressure to apply
as she lays her hands on mine. Please pray in thanksgiving for
this elderly potter and the skill and joy she shares with me.
The hospital work has been good. This week we finish the training
of four "patient attendants," a partial solution to
the nursing shortage. The container arrived with the new beds,
lights, and pediatic ventilator for the maternity ward; and now
construction is underway for a flush toilet, shower, and sluice.
Despite countless "close calls," we have not yet had
a maternal death this year. We are also well on our way to becoming
baby-friendly, according to the preliminary assessors. Please
pray in thanksgiving for these encouraging developments.
Sadly, there is always some grieving to be done. Happy Jere,
the head of hospital stores and a very active man in the hospital
Christian fellowship, died after a few weeks illness. His grandmother,
for whom he cared after she developed breast cancer, died and
was buried yesterday. Please pray for this family who also lost
the grandfather two months ago.
Those of you who have been able to visit will remember Mr. Kondowe
as the headmaster of the secondary boarding school. His family
became very dear to me after they moved two houses from me after
their home was stoned in a student riot. They taught me forgiveness
in action by feeding and sheltering a girl who was a stone-thrower
when the school temporarily closed, and she could not get home.
Then came the hard months for me, which I wrote about in my last
letter, and their family provided me encouragement and amusement
on the countless days that I was exhausted but not ready for sleep.
Against his wishes, Mr. Kondowe was transferred to headmaster
an even bigger secondary school in Livingstonia—and before
the family’s food harvest was complete. You can imagine the
sadness as they hurriedly packed their belongings and food into
the back of the lorry and piled in with the driver in the cab.
That sadness pales compared to the sadness that followed. On the
way, the driver lost control, and the vehicle plunged and rolled
more than 50 feet down into a river bed. Thoko, their sweet nine-year-old,
died immediately.
Grace, their spunky seven-year-old, is rallying after a second
operation from internal bleeding. The others, despite various
crushed bones, lacerations, and bruises, will physically recover.
Although of much less concern, virtually all of their belongings
and food stores were lost. I have never witnessed a clearer example
of I Corinthians 13:13 "There are three things that last:
faith, hope and love." Their faith, hope, love, and spirit
of thankfulness are all that remain intact. I was privileged to
go as the hospital representative with teachers from the secondary
school to weep with the Kondowes, to accompany Thoko’s body
to her funeral while her entire family was too
injured to be released from Ekwendeni Hospital, and then return
to the hospital the next day to listen and support as best we
could. Please pray for the Kondowe family as they endure too much
pain.
It will soon be time to say "good-bye," at least for
now. My term ends, and whether I return here or elsewhere depends
on the needs when I am ready to return in July 2001. These last
years are quite a gift. The seemingly endless tragedies have taught
me to lament more and to thank God more. My Malawian friends have
taught me to prioritize my relationship with God and relationships
with others above all else. How to say "good-bye" to
such friends? Especially when I know some will be dead even if
I return in a year? Please pray for my upcoming emotions and travels,
and for my sister Anita, who is coming to accompany me.
God willing, I will see most of you in the upcoming months.
Love,
Martha Sommers
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