Moving back to Mlandizi & Sad News

March 6, 2007
Letter from Lynda:
Moving back to Mlandizi & Sad News


Dear Friends:
Hi from here. It’s been a busy month for me: finishing my physio, getting my “walking papers” from the surgeon, signing a lease for new premises in Mlandizi, receiving visits from not one, but two Canadians – two of our Angels in fact!

During my stay in this guesthouse, recovering from my surgery, I made the decision to not actually live at the Vijaliwa Vingi home. Stephen, our manager, has managed the VV home so very well in my long absence due to my injury and lengthy recovery.

The VV Society had already made the recommendation that I find a place to live in Mlandizi, a village only a few kilometers from Vijaliwa Vingi so that I would have some privacy. And now, with my less than stable ankle, it will be much more practical. The place in Mlandizi will be big enough to also serve as an office, with room to spare for our sewing machines so we can finally start to offer sewing lessons to some of our participants.

I realized that I really would be foolish to go and physically take part in the two-part move into the new place in Mlandizi. My leg is not strong enough, and I know myself well enough to admit that I would overdo it. So Stephen (bless him) is moving the office today and later in the week I will go and supervise the packing/moving of my room to make my living space in the house in Mlandizi my “home”.

Our newest volunteer, Elizabeth, arrived on Sunday. She will be my housekeeper, and also will be at the Vijaliwa Vingi home for a number of hours during the week to help with the kids. Yesterday, she cleaned the new place and packed some things at the old office. Vincent, (our Programme Coordinator for outreach), has, I hope, already packed most of the office because he has to leave today for two weeks.

This is Vincent’s truly sad story of yesterday:

At 6:30 am Vincent called to tell me that his two-year old daughter had just died. He had only mentioned two nights before in a phone message, that she was sick. To say that the news upset me is an understatement.

By rights, I should have got in a taxi and made the trip to Mlandizi. But, I just couldn't. Thank God for Stephen - he went on my behalf. The correct procedure following a death here is still gut-wrenching for me: Stephen (among others) went first to the hospital, then to the house of the family, then to the church where they did a service in the evening. Vincent will leave with his wife and two older children to his village in Morogoro Region for the burial today.

The little girl’s name is Charity. And, as the child of one of our staff, she was under the scope of my responsibility. But, I didn't go because I would surely have collapsed.
When I told my Dad, he asked me the cause of death, and I realized that I must be getting closer to this culture. No one asks that question here. Does it matter how, or why? God has God’s reasons, and we are not necessarily privy to them.

In this part of the world, one in five children under the age of six dies. And, a child dies every five minutes of malaria. This is one of the reasons that our outreach work is so important because most people here are not aware of proper prevention, or nutrition, or sanitation. “Capacity Building” is such an ambiguous term. But in it lays the hope of change….

Oh, I am so looking forward to my annual trip home to Canada! It has been a difficult few months. It will be good to get back to the crisp spring air of the B.C. coast. The trip will be tough, with my ankle and all, but I do intend to take a few weeks to rest up this time, and hope to take as much chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwiches as palatably possible – retroactive for the healing process of course. I got confirmation of my flights and should arrive in Vancouver on the 16th April.

God does have such an amazing way of working. Yesterday, in my effort to regain my composure, I had the television on to keep me distracted. There are two channels, and for some reason it was on the "young" station. I was not paying particular attention, because I still really don't appreciate rap. But I happened to look up half way through a video - the song was called "Footprints". And sure enough, when the constant string of words faded away, a deep comforting voice came on, and the video showed the beach and yes, one set of prints. And the voice read "...those were the times that I was carrying you..."
Thank you all for holding me in your prayers, Lynda

Lynda Kearns