Pickpockets nearly got my Money

Kinshasa the capital of the DRC.

Kinshasa is a huge city on the banks of the Congo River. It has the largest population of any city proper in Africa with a population of 10,076,099, and ranks as its third largest metropolitan area. It is also the largest French-speaking city proper in the world.

It was early afternoon, I was in the capital for business from our mission in the Central Congo. As I walked quietly down one of the main streets of the City I saw a huge crowd on the footpath. I attempted to make my way through as a stranger in a strange African city. I was completely unaware that I was being funnelled into a trap. 

A European no matter how long he or she has been in Africa always sticks out like a sore thumb.

We come from a community that is built on trust where pickpockets are not generally found on our sidewalks, except perhaps in the huge city malls. Back in the 1970s we were so trusting. Many parts of the world there is not the security and trust that we have in Australia. This I believe is the result of the Judeo-Christian Biblical Ethics that has been the foundation of our society. Sadly this is slipping away as violence is taking over in the big cities.

The sequel to this story happened just two months later when a young Catholic pilot picked up the Chief Bible Translator for the Congo, from Kamina in the south to fly the 1 hour 17 minutes flight to Kipushya Mission in a small single engine plane. He was coming on his year checking run of our translation Project for the Kisonge Bible.
Some tips for travellers
Be careful also of what you take pictures of. Even if they say no photos only at the airport and of government buildings, a lot of times the police and UN people will get upset if you are taking videos at other places where technically it is supposed to be ok to do. Just be sure to have plenty of locals with you that know what they are doing and can provide security and a way out if you get stuck or in trouble. See http://wikitravel.org/en/Kinshasa

Penetrating into this crowded sidewalk I was soon in the narrow part of the funnel and all of a sudden I had strong young men attacking my pockets from either side. I yelled out trying desperately to get some help. A young American came rushing to my aide. He was tall and confident. I was short and fearful. The best thing I could do was to get out of there as soon as I could.

They didn’t get any of my money as it was wedged under a handkerchief in the right pocket of my shorts. Thank God for protecting me. Though on other occasions I have had my money and brief case stolen.

So be careful when travelling overseas into a culture for which you don’t know the mores. It is so easy to get diddled or extorted from shrewd salesmen who offer you things at three times the price. Especially if you don’t know how to barter.

Fly in - Fly Out

 - A trip to Lusambo and Mbuji-Mayi for Bible Teaching -.

We had never visited Lusambo from Kipushya Mission as it was just too difficult to get to. It was situated on the large Sankaru River a tributary of the Congo. During the Belgian days it had been the Capital for the Kasai Province and a place where there was a considerable military presence. The Belgians had been fighting off the influence of the Arab Slavers coming from the East of Congo and their henchmen the Batatela lead by Nongo Lutete from Ngandu. The Batatela came from the Forests to the North and East of Lusambo. The Sankaru River was navigable all the way from the Congo river and Leopoldville, the capital, many days down river.

Lusambo is just West of Lubefu

We had planned a full weeks Bible studies with Missionary Dave Garrard, Pastor Lubangi Eshiba the Leader for the East Kasai Work of the EPCO ( No.30), and Esther and I.

Ronald and Shiela Monot had planted this church after an Evangelistic outreach Ronald had held in the town. He had built a building and installed a Pastor and leadership.

We flew from Kipushya Mission direct to Lusambo where there was an airstrip on the banks of the Sankaru. The Cessna had us there on the ground in about one hour and forty minutes. A trip by vehicle would have taken at least two days of ten hours each day if the road was passable via Mbuji Mayi.

 We parked the plane and left some locals to guard it. Then we walked with our camp beds and picnic basket and our clothes for a one weeks visit. The Bible studies went well. The sleeping conditions were not so wonderful.

The pastor insisted that Esther and I sleep in his bed because it had a wire mattress. Well, it was like sleeping on the side of Mt Everest. The wire springs were so weak Esther was on one side of the mountain and I was clinging to the other side so that we did not roll onto each other all night.

The problem was that Lusambo was strung out along the narrow flood plain of the river bank with high hills on each side of the river. Being nearly on the equator it was very hot and humid without any breeze at all nor any electricity. So it was a swelteringly hot place with no relief.

Outside our bedroom in the Pastor’s house was a near full and overflowing pit - toilet so the window had to remain shut all night.  Dave Garrard slept on an African Bamboo bed but it was infested with bed bugs. Yoyo. Pastor Lubangi was very tired and snored like a coal fired loco all night. Sleeping was not the best at Lusambo. These are the thrills of missionary life in the Congo but it is better telt than felt.

The final meal. The Pastor had the ladies prepare a delicacy for the visitors before they left for our next stop Mbuji-Mayi, the ‘Big City’. It was goats intestines wrapped around meat and tied up in small tubes. Well Esther smelt it and said, “I’m not eating that”. The brave men felt they must as it was our farewell meal. Apparently the intestines had not been properly washed out and prepared.

We walked the 12 kilometres to the Airstrip, did the pre-flight checks and then took-off. Soon after takeoff  my stomach rumbled and I felt as if I need to go quickly to the toilet. A Cessna 206 does not have this convenience. So I held on and made it the 45 minutes to the New provincial Capital of Mbuji-Mayi. (Pop.circa 600,000 inhabitants).

Now  we had another week at Mbuji-Mayi but they had built a brand new cement pit toilet and my didn’t we need it. I didn’t feel well the first night but recovered to do a teachers’ salaries flight back to Kipushya the next day. Dave and Pastor Lubangi both felt ill but they were teaching that first day. When I arrived back from my flight to Kipushya I was greeted with,” You’ll be teaching all day tomorrow by yourself as both Pastor Lubangi and Dave a desperately sick.” Esther was smiling and ok. She hadn’t eaten any intestines.

Pastor Lubangi deteriorated so that eventually they gave him opium to stop the stomach pains and treated him for dysentery.

Eating Maize and manioc Mush with my  washed hands

Preparing for Bible Studies at Lusambo

Our Lusambo Cooks 

We made it home safely to Kipushya Mission glad to be home and having learnt a few lessons on the way.

The Gospel Arrives at Kipushya Congo

Notorious Arab Slaver TippuTip

It was 1917 when the freed slaves from Angola arrived at Mwanza CEM Mission in Katanga Province of the Belgian Congo. They had walked with their whole family across much of Katanga Province. They were looking for a Mission to which they could attach themselves.

Ya Shalumbo and his friends had left Kipushya much earlier heading out in a search for a source of gunpowder. They had their homemade blunderbuss guns and the local blacksmiths who were able to make them. But they needed gunpowder to fight off the Battetela Slave Raidesr working for TippuTip the Arab leader in Eastern Congo.

While on the slave route Ya Shalumbo and his friends were caught by a Portuguese Slave Master and transported to Angola. The Portuguese soon found that Ya Shalumbo was an intelligent man and so he decided to train this slave in how to buy slaves from the Paramount Chief Msiri[1] of the Basanga at Bunkeya.

Southern Central Africa in 1890 showing the central position of Msiri’s Yeke Kingdom and the principal trade routes, with the approximate territories of Msiri’s main allies (names in yellow) and the approximate areas occupied by European powers (names in orange — does not spheres of influence or borders). The east coast trade was controlled by the Sultan of Zanzibar. Areas of influence of other tribes and of France and Germany are not shown.

While in Benguela province of Angola Ya Shalumbo married and his wife made contact with the Brethren Missionaries where she became a committed Christian. Shalumbo did not want anything to do with the religion of these Evangelical missionaries and continued with his slave trading with trips to Bunkeya from Angola.[2] Through the faithful witness of his wife and after many arguments he eventually surrendered to the Lord.

All slaves were freed but some remained in Angola for some time. Ya Shalumbo had by this time twelve children the eldest of whom were already married. They set out from Angola crossing Katanga Province looking for Missionaries.

 When they arrived at Mwanza in Central Katanga the two young Missionaries Burton and Salter heard the Hymn:  “I shall know Him, I shall know Him, when redeemed by His side I shall stand. I shall Know Him, I shall know Him, By the prints of the nails in His hands.” The young missionaries said, “We have never sung that song here who are these people?” The group of Basonge returned slaves included some Lubans. They stayed with the Missionaries at Mwanza for two years helping them establish the Work in the outstations like Ngoimani and Kisanga.

Brother Burton said they were difficult to work with as they had been taught well in the ways of the Missionaries in Angola. They were very legalistic and did not see eye to eye with the Pentecostal doctrines of the young Brothers at Mwanza. Slowly they listened to the teaching from the Scriptures and began to change.

After two years they wanted Burton and Salter to accompany them to the Bekelebwe (Basonge). Brother Burton told them to go back and when they had established some churches in that district to come and he would go with them. Eventually in 1919 they returned to Mwanza after having opened thirteen small churches in the villages surrounding Kipushya. They took with them eight young men who went to Mwanza to attend the Evangelist’s Training School. One of their number was Pita Mbele who faithfully served the Lord for more than forty years in the Kipushya area.

In 1919 WFP Burton and his new wife travelled the 257 miles along the bush paths on foot or in a Sudan chair (a cane chair carried on two poles by two men). They crossed the Lomami River and travelled the 17 kilometres from the river to the central village of the Bena Tshofwe at Kipushya.

The Chief, Ya Ndjibu, still had human skulls on poles around his enclosure. These people were still cannibals and they told me in the 1960s that the tastiest parts were the muscle of the upper arm or the thumb.

The Arrival of the Johnstones at Kipushya in 1919. (from ‘God Working with Them’ by W.F.P. Burton. Pp 157-163

Remember that some of the Bena Tshofwe from Kipushya had accompanied Mr. And Mrs. Burton on their return from the Lomami River.

A special delegation had come from the Chief Ya Ndjibu of the Bene Tshofwe, begging for a missionary. The Johnstones were touched by this plea that this was the deciding factor of their move so far to the North West.

The Ovation they received when they arrived at Kipushya was tremendous. Crowds met them all along the road and accompanied them to the site of their future home with shouts and songs. The people were wild with delight. They had waited for two whole years and now they were going to have their own missionary.

Mr. And Mrs Johnstone and Miss Gallup

Some thought that perhaps the start of Kipushya was  too hasty. They said they preferred that a station be established as a midway point as Mwanza to Kipushya is such a long way.

The similarity of Kiluba language of the South and the Kisonge of kipushya made it very easy to mix up the languages. Words that sounded the same had a completely different meaning. The first days were mingled with joy, pain and sorrow. Only those who have pioneered in another culture know how much grace and grit it takes to open up such a work for God.

The Johnstones were only there for two days when Mr Johnstone fell sick with Malarial fever and soon his wife was beside him. Help was 373 kilometres away at Mwanza. Praise the Lord He is Jehovah Ropheka, the unchanging Healer. He soon raised them both up to continue their church planting.

They planted trees, gardens and built their first home on a ridge overlooking a valley to the NW. By the end of three months they had quite a little band of new believers. Soon Shalumbo returned with his whole family and the work began to grow. Now there are more one thousand Pentecostal Assemblies of the (CPC  No30) from that work.

---

[1] Wikipedia Other variants are "Mziri", "Msidi", and "Mushidi"; and his full name was Mwenda Msiri Ngelengwa Shitambi.^[1]

[2] See Wikipedia The Yeke Kingdom; and Msiri.

Mr.and Mrs. Johnstone and Miss Gallup travel to Kipushya 373 kilometres

Early Kipushya Photos 1919

Real Fun while out Shopping in the Congo

I remember that shopping in the Congolese Provincial cities was never easy and sometimes it was nerve wracking for the faint-hearted. We were in a big African Market and Esther had her bag wrapped tightly under her arm. This place was notorious for petty thieves.

One Misso had had his Aussie Acubra hat stolen off his head and the rugby front-row sized son had chased the thief and rugby tackled him into the tables of the shoe stall sending shoes and shoppers flying in all directions.

While Esther was looking she felt a faint tap on her left shoulder and turned to see who touched her. She did not realise that at that very moment her good leather bag had been slit with a razor blade. She only found out when she put her had in to get some money for a purchase. Her hand went straight through and out the big hole that had been made. Luckily, her money was in another special compartment and they got nothing for their clever effort.
The devil is a thief. He steals girls of their virginity. He robs young men of their purity and clarity of purpose. He wants you to kill yourself by suicide or take another precious life. He is fixed on your destruction, eternal destruction with him in Hell. But Jesus came to give us LIFE, abundant overflowing blessed LIFE.

On another day in Lubumbashi, Esther was sitting in the 4x4 looking after the vehicle while I was shopping. It was so hot that she could not keep the window up all the time. So she had it down to get some fresh air.

There was a sudden knock on the car on the opposite side to where she was in the passenger seat. She turned her head and while she did a hand went through the window and down between her legs trying to get her purse hidden under her legs. So the next time she went shopping she decided that she would wrap the shoulder strap around her leg thus hindering a quick getaway of a thief. It worked well until she wished to get out of the vehicle. She forgot the strap and nearly tripped onto the ground because of the strap around her leg.

What about the thieves who tried to break-in to a Land Rover back door in the centre of Lusaka, Zambia. The woman missionary left the front passenger seat to see what was going on and had her handbag stolen while she was round the back. She saw the thief, kicked off her shoes and began the chase down the main street. She had been a sprinter and high jumper in her youth and she caught the African in the crowded street. The crowds were amused with this white missionary having a tug-a-war with the local for her bag which eventually he surrendered. She was cheered and cheered as the conqueror.

Not every missionary gets off on the best side of things. We are TOOOO TRUSTING or gullible.

While in a West African Capital and just ready to head out with a huge load in the back of the Mitsubishi 4x4 Twin cab, I climbed out to check the ropes tying on the load. While I was out I had my purse stolen from under the front seat with all my money, Driver’s Licence and car papers in it. It took me some time getting temporary papers from the Police. About two hours later, I said to Esther as we travelled into the interior. “Well what does it matter anyway. God is still with us and we are unharmed.” We eventually replaced all the lost documents.

Another day they tried to get me out of the car by rocking the car and attempting to break-in the back door. On one occasion I had reversed very quickly and nearly run my tormentors over. On another day they tried to get me out by letting the air out of my tyres. Unsuccessful, they then stole my cap off my head through the open window.

I yelled out in French. “Oh look, you’ve stolen from a bald-headed old man, now he has nothing to protect him from the sun.” They kindly came back and gave me my cap. How gracious of them.

Are you security conscious and do you have your wits about you. Be suspicious and think African and then you won’t be an easy target. Try not to put yourself into places where you will be vulnerable; but don't get paranoid about it. You need to be vulnerable sometimes, and take some risks. Otherwise you will go nowhere and accomplish nothing.

                      ************************************************************************** 

A lion story from a small African Hut on a Rainy afternoon

Forty-five kilometres to the east of Kipushya Mission is the village and Christian centre of Kabula Lusala. I have forgotten the reason for travelling to this Village  where there was a vibrant village church with school and dispensary/maternity all built by the local population.

The village where the Rains did not come.

It was in this area in a nearby village where the church needed to be rethatched during one dry season in the 1940s and the villagers had not made the time to do it. It was becoming urgent as the rains only stop for four months in that part of the Congo, in East Kasai, usually from mid-May to mid-September. The Missionary came on his bicycle to see how things were progressing. Nothing had been done.

He was a man of prayer and had seen many miraculous interventions from God. He’d built a special prayer hut at the mission where He could give Himself to fasting and prayer and he’d seen God move in Revival Power on two different ocassions in the early years.

Basonge Thatching a school building.

He said in this village near Kabula Lusala, “There won’t be any rain on your crops until you have put the last thatch on the church roof”. Meaning the special thatch ridge-capping so beautifully done by the Basonge. They went on with their own work ignoring what the Pastor had said and they were busy getting their gardens ready to plant corn and manioc for the new season.

Well like Elijah of old who prayed that God would shut up the heavens and it didn’t rain for three and a half years so it didn’t rain. They were now already in October and there was very little thatching grass to be found and it need to be carried for many kilometres if it was found. The rains were just not coming and the winds were getting stronger and hotter.

All at once they realised that what the Pastor had said would cause them famine if they did’t oblige. They soon had the thatching done and as they finished down came the rains.

Now back to my story. WE sat in this very small hut on this rainy Saturday afternoon. In the one room there were four bamboo relaxing chairs; a bed made from Makadi, a tall bamboo which grows in swampy areas; and a grass mat on the floor.

The rain was dripping off the thatch onto the soft loamy soil. These pastors who had come with me were eager to tell me some African stories of Lions. There was the one about men turning themselves into two lions. Africans believe that through witchcraft they can change themselves into a big cat if they wish to kill someone. There was another one about the lion which came out of the bush and roared at the little group of men on the path. It then ran off down the path that they were taking.

Pastor Ngoie Shalumbo spoke of the day they were out on a hunt about twenty kilometres to the east of Kipushya Mission. They had their bunderbus guns over their shoulders, primed and ready with gunpowder and raffia and pieces of bike axle in the barrel as bullets. After hunting for about three hours, Pastor Ngoie and a friend were tired and leg weary. They decided to go into a clump of trees and have a rest. The others went on with the hunt.

While Pastor Ngoie and friend were cat-napping in the shade they heard the roar of a Lion nearby. As quick as jack-robinson they were high up a tree swinging in the branches. Apparently lions don’t like noise near them either and they will climb up a tree and pull a man down if you talk. They are cats anyway.

After some time the other group returned and came looking for their friends. They found their hunting gear on the ground but nobody nearby. As they looked up there they were riding high in the tree. Without making a noise they tried to tell them there was a lion nearby and to keep quiet and get up a tree as fast as they could.

Soon all the five hunters were swinging in the branches up in the tree. After some hours and weary of hanging there they quietly climbed down and made their way home not seeing the lion and not catching any prey. They arrived home with only a story of the lion that roared at them. 
"Watch out for the Devil and his tricks. he goes round as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour"
More Stories from Africa 1

Some Lion stories from the Congo

African Pastors love to tell lion stories.

No 1. Here is one from the back of our truck as we travelled up to the north of Basongeland. Mpanya Edourd had been a student in the Teacher Training School at Kipushya Mission in Central Congo. He had a wonderful sense of humour and classes were always fun with Muzinga Emmanuel and Mpanya Edourd in them.

After graduating from Fourth Year Pedagogie he was assigned to the Primary School at Lubao approximately 125kilometres from Kipushya. He was carrying all his family’s goods and chattels on the carrier of his bike heading up the road to Lubao before returning to carry his wife and children. African bikes can carry a load.  He had waited in a village as he travelled North East because of a huge afternoon thunderstorm.

Art Propelled Goats on Bikes in Africa

Now it was time to get moving again. He was gracefully weaving his way around the huge puddles on the sandy road when he noticed the fresh paw-marks of lions. This soon made him wakeup. He lifted his head and there they were just standing on the side of the road looking at him. He was so shocked and afraid that he kept peddling straight past them. Then he lost control of the heavily laden bike. His legs would not peddle anymore and he was soon on the ground with the peddle sticking into his middle. He muscles just went to jelly.

He tried several times to get up but fear took hold of him. He lay there on the top of the bike and dared not look in the direction of the two wild beasts. Tambwe as they call them. He eventually had enough confidence to stand the bike up and begin pushing it up the road. He climbed on and started to peddle for all he was worth. He really sped along until he reached the next village exhausted. It was a frightening ordeal to be so close the King and Queen of the Big Cats.  

Art Propelled Congolese Delivery of a Lounge Chair

Just plant a Tree God will make it grow.

School boys and Bible Students with the newly Marrieds

When I first went to the Congo in 1967 I was Head Teacher and class teacher in the Teacher Training Institute of Kipushya.  There were over 80,000 pupils in the Mission Primary schools so we needed trained teachers urgently. In the Congo they have a Pedagogy stream in the High School system similar to the Manual Arts or the Science streams we have in Australia.

 After being married in the Congo, Esther, who was a nurse came to help me in the Institute as a teacher of Scripture and English. What a struggle for Aussies having to teach every day new lessons in French. Our Vocabulary had to grow very fast. The Students helped us with the Grammar especially the masculine and feminine of French.

A young student came to Esther with a real hunger to know God and His Word. Esther opened the Bible and told him that Jesus died for us to bring us back into right relationship with God. She explained how God’s anger had been turned away because of the Sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross. Eventually Ebondo committed his life to Jesus Christ and began to follow Him with all his heart. He was at that time probably 16 years of age.

About this time I planted a tree in front of the school to give some shade from the hot midday sun. It was small and about a metre tall.

         In 1992 Esther and I returned to the Congo for two years before we went to Guinea in West Africa.

One day a young man arrived at our back door. He asked me if I knew him. I answered, “No! But you look like Ebondo Sylvan whom I had not seen since the mid seventies, twenty years before. The young man was standing there with his wife. He explained.I am Ebondo Sylvan’s brother. When I was twelve you came to our village and preached under the big tree in the centre of the village. I gave my heart to the Lord that day and now I have come to Kipushya Mission to go to Bible School as I want to be a pastor. How amazing!

Ken and esther with the African Staff Members Lenge Charles, Mwamba Valerien and another.

School students with Ken. (Kikangal Stanislas and Mutombo Nestor my helpers).

Morning Assembly Before School in the Congo -  Singing Hymns from ‘Chants de Victoire’.

I remember clearly the day I went to their village. It was in the height of the Rainy season in the Congo. The clouds were low and menacing. The road to their village was long. It was seventy kilometres along two wheel tracks in the tall savannah grass. After teaching all morning and then driving for most of the afternoon I was exhausted by the time I reached the village. It was not a neatly laid-out place and the village main street was overgrown with weeds. I had gone there intending to buy manioc sticks and corn for the boarding school. There was only a small amount of food to be had and the manioc sticks were of a very poor quality.

Someone said, “Aren’t you going to preach to us?” I was a bit tired and grumpy by this stage but I reluctantly accepted saying, “If you call all the people under this big tree I will preach to them.” I preached for about 15-20 minutes, said a prayer and headed for home. I never thought that God had a young twelve year old in mind that day. Now twenty years later he was a married man heading for Bible School. Here he was standing in front of me.

You plant a tree and God will make it grow. In 1992 when I returned to Kipushya after ten years in Australia I saw this huge tree that was at least 70cms across the trunk. Remember I had planted a tree in the mid 1970s. Now there was this forest giant right there in the middle of the School parade ground. Plant a Tree. God will surely make it grow.