We received the tragic news on the 1st April that Jacob Dove’s wife died in childbirth along with her baby, leaving Jacob on his own with their three other children.
Reuben recently wrote to us:
The funeral service for the late sister took place last sunday 11th April at the St John’s Church Goderich, at 2:30p.m. It was a well attended service with combined choir from the three mainline churches in the Goderich community. They sang two Anthems plus the dead March in saul. We thank God for the life of the sister. She was really a servant of God. At the 36 she played her part in supporting Jacob in the ministry. Thank you all for your prayers. I believe your prayers have helped us in the proper planning of the funeral. May God grant her eternal rest.
The last day of standard visits, an a day that threatened on paper to be hideously long! Not only did we have the five originally planned visits to make, but we also gained one during Conference when Reuben realised that he hadn’t included St. Stephen’s at Rokel in our itinerary…
Fogbo (pronounced fo-bo) is a large fishing community of some 2000+ people along the coast from Tombo and Tissana to the East, where Rev. Charles Moinina is the current minister (although we heard at Conference that he will be posted elsewhere soon). This church is twinned with Sheppey Evangelical Church in the UK. During the New Year’s Eve celebrations a fire broke out here, Charles wrote the following account for us:
On the eve of this New year (2010) , before our usual church service, heavy wind blown out within the Fogbo village. While young people were singing and dancing , many elders thought it was a sign of blessing and prosperity hence the wind served as agent cleansing the village against bad people.
The new year’s eve in Fogbo had been characterized by fantastic cultural jubilation and exhibitions. Surrounding villages converge to fogbo with their dance troops on competitive basis and winners were awarded with special prizes and recognition in the koya Rural District.
I and few committed members of my church were busy at visiting Christians homes urging them to attend service on time. We were able to get good number of Christians and started the service..The Theme of of the service was-‘ Asses your Result Card” (Numbers13:26-33) Preacher-Rev.Charles Moinina
Shortly after the sermon, there was dramatic change from jubilation to lamentation compounded by serious shouting and crying everywhere in the village. Allegedly , the wind has blown off the fire from one of the kitchens and spread out burning both thatch and corrugated iron sheet hourses with Christian homes being the main terminal causalities.
As a result ,most people are now over concentrated in neighboring houses or sought respite in other villages .Children who attended schools and churches at Fogbo have found themselves in non school and church environment. Lack of shelter, food and clothing has worsen the standard of living for the Fogbo people
As the only pastor of this community ,the people particularly the Christians are constantly asking me to share their plight with fellow Christians in Sierra Leone as well as abroad for support in any form that will relieve them.
May God blesses the giver and give him a blessed rest eternally. May the power of the Holy Spirit shine in them so that others may see their good works and bless Christ Jesus.
Arriving in Fogbo we were able to see for ourselves the extend of the disaster as we we taken on a walk through the community. It was clear that a significant portion of the heart of the village had been burnt down. It must have been, and must continue to be, an extremely hard time for these people.
As we walked, the children of the school accompanied us (a growing school now with over 200 children), fascinated by these two white men. At times there were some 40 children trying to all hang from our arms, tugging at our skin, wondering why it was different to theirs. After a while they also took up a chant, encouraged by one of their teachers. When we asked what it was, the translation was given as, ‘We want clothes!’
Manalo (twinned with Copthorne) was quite a contrast to Fogbo. The church here, led by Rev. Amadu Sesay, is small and struggling. They are in a Muslim dominated area and one in which work opportunities are low. It is hard for many to pay school fees, and there is little access to health care facilities. Regardles, Amadu remains cheerful and does what he can to share God’s love. It was good to see him again – attending his wedding in 2004 was a highlight of that trip. Another old friend at Manalo is their former pastor, the now retired George Braima who asked us to remember him and the youth of the church.
Having attended Makomba on the first Sunday for the service, we didn’t get a chance to visit the school which is on a nearby site, and so we called here as we drove through. Pastor Michael Tarawallie met us here, but said goodbye almost immediately – cycling off to Makoibondu where we would shortly meet him again. The school is on a large plot of land a little way out from the village, and as such is a bit isolated, leading them to be concerned about protecting it. They are trying to build a caretakers house so that someone can stay there (maybe a teacher?) and guard it out of hours. Apparently there was an arson attempt a little while ago.
The school seemed to be in good shape and spirit (except for the ceilings which seemed to be coming down – although from memory this is nothing new). They also have a new well which was provided by ‘Living Water International’ - I wonder if they might help other communities we work in who are asking for them?
Just down the road we caught up with Michael Tarawallie at Makoibondu. I was quite envious of his cycle ride – we have had little proper exercise, and cycling is one of my favourite active pastimes! The people here are surviving – like everywhere today the people are poor and there are little employment opportunities. They asked for help with furnishing and for a porch so that a gate can be erected to keep animals out during services. They also have plans for agriculture in the church grounds -much to Tim’s delight they hope to grow bananas! Like so many others at the moment, they are also concerned about demarking the land to stop encroachment.
The last of the M’s (I believe it is a Mende tradition to name places with Ms or Rs) – Magbafti, twinned suitably enough with another M, Mortimer West End in the UK. Much to our surprise we were well ahead of schedule by this point – for the first time ever on any visit. Not quite sure how that happened… We were so far ahead that Rev. Theophilus Nicol hadn’t arrived yet to greet us. Not put off by this, the local people introduced us to the school and gave us a presentation without him! The welcome took place in the church alongside the Primary School. This was as vibrant and noisy as ever – although for once there was no cultural dancing (something Tim has yet to experience). After the able presentation, we were taken around the grounds to see the concrete posts that have been erected with funds given to us by Mortimer West End (thanks!) to respond to encroachment on the land, something which has been a real problem here. Just as we finished this tour, a rather surprised Theophilus made it, jsut in time to take us back into the church for a closing prayer!
Finally we made it to our last destination, St. Stephen’s, Rokel. Quite a contrast! At this old established church we were greeted by a number of older men, and surrounded for one of the few times in this land by quiet. Our former agent Joe Pearce, known to many in the UK, is currently overseeing the church here, although in the mid-year postings Jacob Dove will take charge (Reuben’s nephew? cousin?). They asked me to remember them to St. Stephen’s in Middleton, UK with whom they have shared a long relationship. They have been busy trying to renovate the church, paining it, making a start on building a toilet block and so on. They also boasted of their new belfry (courtesy of the hard work of Francis)! We also had the chance here to meet up with retired minister, Rev. John Walter Thomas, an old friend of the SLM.
And so at the end of a packed day we made it home much earlier than expected – we even had time to pack before going to bed!
Today has been a varied day of on the one hand heart-stopping beauty, human vision and care and on the other desperate lives and attempted cons.
We started off heading to a church called Wellington. This I had been looking forward to seeing, as this is a place I have never been to before. We parked just off the main road, and had to walk the rest of the way. This was a real treat for me. Those who know me well know I have a thing about mountains (comes from being a Fen-boy and spending most of my life and sea level!) The road to Wellington is not suitable for vehicles, a mix of pot-holes and scree, trecherous underfoot, let alone for a car. It leads up a step incline towards the mountains tha line the peninsula. The view is breathtaking. We call England a green and pleasant land, so is Sierra Leone, but in a different way. England is green from the grass and plants at ground level. Here the ground is red or sandy dust or rock. The green is above the ground, in the palm trees and banana plants, or in the canopies of of the mangrove swamps.
The church/school is a new building. I think we are the first from the UK to see complete, all but the last touches of paint. It is a lovely airy building, surprisingly cool. This is another effort from our driver, Francis, and the Friends of Sierra Leone. We were, as always, placed, placed at the front for a series of presentations. These included an hilarious sketch put on by a number of children in Krio to demonstrate the importance of education – there is often a real tension between paying for children to go to school and keeping them at home so they can earn money for the family. The actors were wonderful, bags of expression and humour, but the underlying message was a very serious one. The school is run by a handful of in effect volunteer teachers, who through their labour underline this, through working for next to nothing they ae demonsrating how important they see education as being. The work here was instigated by Augustine, and he continues to be the Pastor.
From Wellington Allen Town. Another church/school up a steep slope. This time, however, we were driven (shame, I had enjoyed the exercise!) Our local primary school in England have been attempting to set up an exchange of letters between the two sets of children. They had written, and the pupils of Allen Town had replied. When I had left to come, these last letters had not yet arrived in England, however, just the other day I heard from my excited daughter who is at the school, that they had come. And so it was that I found myself on a quest to find the child that had written to her. His name was Francis Ma???? (it turned out to be Marveh) Shouldn’t be too hard you might think, but Allen Town school has a roll of around 1000 children!!! I mentioned my quest to Augustine in the vague hope that he might be able to help as he one of the heads at the school. Imagine my surprise when he announced that he knew the child, and that he was in fact his adopted son! And so it was that I managed to get my photo for my daughter (you should see it in the slide show) and left one of her with him. Allen Town School is a wonderful contrast to so many of the places we visit. It is such a large vibrant heaving school, with big vision and scope. The reception we get here is always magnificent. From time to time you may see charity programmes where celebrities go to developing countries and get mobbed by children. You might wonder if it is because they are celebrities,or because it is staged. Itis neither of these things, here at Allen Town it is a spontaneous response when anyone pulls out a camera or photo. I have fond memories of another friend who came here with me. You can barely see him, just a speck of light hair showing under a current of African children. Much has changed here since I last came. They now have a church building (almost complete), staff room (although this is currently occupied by a secondary school class,with the teachers gathering under a tree) and perimeter wall.
Eventully, we tore ourselves away from Allen Town and headed to Jui and TECT, The Evangelical School of Theology. When we arrived, however, we discovered the Principle had not been informed of when we were coming and so was not there. We’re going to try again tomorrow. Having spent to long at Wellington and Allen Town, this helped get us back on track with our timings – for today anyway.
To end the day we travelled along the mountain road to Mongegba. I defy anyne to go there and say there is no god, the backdrop is just so staggeringly beautiful. The church is run by Rev. Daniel Koroma, assisted by Lay Pastors Moses and Amadu Sesay (not to beconfused with Rev. Amadu Sesay at Manalo). Daniel revealed himself to be someone for a real love of others. He grew up in this poor village and is currently the only person to be qualified above Secondary School level. He has a real desire to help those who live here, especially the children. He pays the school fees for a number ofchildren out his own pocket – a level of care for others children I have seen in a few others too. We met him and the congregation in the church building alongside the school that was errected since my last visit – for those that knew him, the church has a plaque to the memory of our very own Ted Long. After the formal proceedings were over, Daniel took us for a walk into the mountains, not to show them off, but to introdu e us to the children chipping granite. They come here after school at about 2pm and smash up the rocks by hand until about 7pm. This can be sold for a meager amount, hardly a fair return for the effort put in. Daniel wants us to find sponsors so that they can aid them and ensure they continue going to school.
The journey home was relatively quick. It never ceases to amaze me how much traffic there is, poda podas, taxis and okadas (the motorbike version of the poda poda, often as dangerously loaded too!) It was not without incident, however. As we were crawling through central Freetown, a man stepped out in front of us and got knocked to the ground. It was clearly not our fault, but of course we stopped to ensure he was alright. Francis bought him back into the car so that we could take him towards the hospital to be checked over, and his companion insisted on coming too. It didn’t take long before we smelt a rat. He began showing us other wounds, mainly from the war, including gun shots to his legs, and insisting that we helped wih these too. His friend, we spotted, also had his hands in everthing, seeking for some easy pickings. It was hard working prying them out of the car, but eventually Francis managed it through what I would call firm grace. It was another sad reminder of the war and thecontinuing effect of it on people, not so different in some ways of tales of ex-soldiers in England who can’t cope with ‘civvy-street’ and end up on the street.
There are a lot of photos today as I took many at Allen Town so they could be shared with the children at Wormley Primary School who have ‘twinned’ with them. I shall eventually move many of these to their page, but haven’t time to do that now.