PRAYER LETTER NO.19.

Gilbo@cbinf.com www.su-burundi.org
BP2260, Bujumbura, Burundi, Africa Tel: 00 (257) 962411
Dear Tigers, 14th October 2002

Just back from upcountry after a manic weekend, smelly and with four days of shaving to catch up on, dropped the crew off, and was greeted with news that my colleague Christella’s 28-year-old brother was killed by the rebels yesterday where we spent the night. Yet another casualty in this mindless war. Then arrived home to find the Tearfund guys I live with unable to get back to their work in Uvira, just across the lake in the Congo. Their office and house has been pillaged by rebels, but none of the staff have been killed as yet. Life is never dull out here, just cheap...

Have a read below of what I have just come back from. Plenty of ammunition for prayers in there. Thanx to all those who responded to my SOS appeal from a few weeks ago – the response was overwhelming, many needs will now be met, and I am so grateful to you all. Allergies are better, but not gone. Country is still in a terrible state. God bless you all as you serve Him,

Gilbo

11th October 2002: What a day! I firstly slept terribly have woken up bitten raw by three mosquitoes trapped inside my net, then went to pick up a number of people to go to Muyinga, but of course they weren’t ready. Eventually we go off, and prayed for the journey. No sign of trouble on the roads. Everything went well for the two hours as far as Kayanza, where we picked up another pastor, but then as we approached Ngozi, I had to pull over because something was clearly wrong. Only because of what happened earlier this week (the bolts on a wheel were stolen, and we had to go and buy them back off the friendly thieves in Buyenzi!) did I check the wheels, and lo and behold, the back left one was about to fall off, a few of the bolts having come off – shocker! So we shifted bolts from another wheel, and made it to Ngozi, had lunch whilst we commissioned someone to find us some more. But bolts are gold dust, and he couldn’t get any. We decided to risk it and left, but within a few miles had the same problem. Had to jack up the car four times altogether, and lost another bolt, so were down to the bare minimum. Were thinking of phoning Buj to send out another truck, but that would mean a four hour wait. Finally we tried the dodgy-looking reserve tyre, whose bolts had less damage to them, and in the end we chanced it all the way to Muyinga, claiming a safe journey and rejoicing in advance that great things would happen as Satan was trying so hard to stop us getting there.

We headed another fifty kilometres beyond the town of |Muyinga, along the Tanzanian border, into the middle of nowhere. One thing that really struck me was the explosive growth of Islam. It is Friday, so that is their special time anyway, but they are increasing in numbers so fast, even in these far outposts. The nominal State Catholicism in Burundi seems to have precious little to offer of any substance, so it is almost as though it is a free-for-all between Islam and Protestants. We drove past one mosque which was not there two years ago when I last came through these parts. So Islam is visibly spreading whilst the Christians are too busy engaged in petty squabbles and fighting each other. Come on, church leaders, wake up!

We were mobbed on our arrival by a frenzied crowd of people who were so happy to see us. They had been praying as there had been a phone call saying that we had broken down. Some of them would never have seen a white man before, and so lots just wanted to touch me. The meeting had just finished, as we were so late, but they reconvened just so that we could greet the assembly, and we promptly decided to show a film, after which DD preached, whilst Pio and I went off to sort out accommodation with the local Catholics. The head Father was a Ugandan missionary, whose pidgin Kirundi is very different to mine but equally bad. We picked the others up, and there was a massive response as DD let rip on them. The two of shared a dingy room, there is no electricity or water, we really are isolated. So here I am by candle-light, with a mattress on the floor, fantastic stuff, wow this life is so amazing and fulfilling and challenging and varied and impacting and bizarre and etc. I praise you Lord for the privilege.

12th October 2002: Wow, it is coming up to 9am, and I have already had a hectic morning. I had planned to take DD back to Muyinga so that he can prepare a crusade for a few weeks’ time – that was the main reason he came with us. But now that we are on our last wheel, and Muyinga is a lot further away than expected, over 50km of bad roads, he needed to get the bus. I was awake from 2am onwards, as we had gone to bed early last night, what with no electricity. He said he could hear shooting in the distance, and got up to listen better, but I reckon it was his imagination, as these parts have been largely peaceful for a while now. His alarm went at 5am, had a quick wash with a bucket of cold water, and the bus would leave anytime from 530am onwards. There was only one bus all day, so he had to get it. I dread to think otherwise what we would have had to do. But when we got there on time, the bus had already left – disaster! How long ago? Oh, you’ve just missed it. So we caned it along the roads, every sharp jutting stone threatening complete disaster, and soon enough came across lots of dust in the air, which meant that something big had recently stirred it up. A few bends later, we saw it, and I flashed and hooted it down. Praise the Lord! DD hurriedly jumped out of the jeep and onto the bus, and I headed back to the Catholic guesthouse. Upon arrival, I discovered that the cover to the spare wheel at the back had fallen off somewhere along the road. I debated whether to head back out and look for it over the last few miles, because I didn’t want to risk the tyres again on these bad roads, but Pie told me it was worth it, and without the protective cover the spare tyre is easy to steal. So I set out again, and again disturbed the officer on barrier duty, and again headed past the church, but it was nowhere to be seen. I gave up and headed back, and on the way picked up a young lad to give him a lift. I explained what had happened as we drove along, and he said he had seen a man walking along with it further back. So again we turned around, and soon tracked him down, gave him a thank you present for it, and headed back, very relieved. Praise the Lord again! Satan is really fighting at every turn here, it’s amazing. Poor officer, again got him out of bed. And then just now I have dropped off the team at the church and come back for the morning so that I can get some work done, and I passed him for the sixth time, this time in uniform, and hard to recognise as I’ve only seen him in pyjamas up until now! I joked with him, saying how nice it was to get to know him, and promised not to disturb him again until midday. Now down to some work, I have four hours of the battery…

Word has got around, and everyone is coming to the meetings. People literally walk for several hours to come. We are blatantly the new in town, and are greeted everywhere by beaming smiles, waves and ‘praise the Lord’s. These people are so very poor and needy. A lot of them really smell, I guess because of their old clothes and not getting the chance to wash often – the nearest source of water is miles away. They really need rain; and yet there seems to be so much joy as well. People eagerly grab our hands to greet us wherever we land to get out of the jeep.

I preached in the afternoon to a packed church, rampant atmosphere, wonderful time, and the meeting was very short as we had got permission to show the Jesus film on the main football field, which was 4km away, so people needed time to walk there. Loads came – I am guessing at three thousand, and as ever it was fantastic, hundreds responded to Juvenal’s preach. The potential of a weekend like this is to completely kickstart a new dimension of growth in the local church. The local pastors are on fire so there should be good follow-up. May the fruit be lasting! Came back tired and elated. A wedding reception was taking place at our base, so we had to eat in our rooms by candlelight.

13th October 2002: Rubbish night’s sleep, terrible gut-rot, so good job DD was no longer with me to share the atmosphere! Pio caught me repeatedly yawning in the church service. They had built a makeshift stage outside the church in anticipation of the extra numbers, and it was needed because loads came, walking for miles to get there. About twenty kids sheltered from the sun under the stage itself, and I feared it might collapse and kill them, because the supports were just odd stumps and branches, hardly the sturdiest contraption. Thankfully, although the sun was out, there were clouds too, which was a relief for the crowds of people.

When we left in the morning, our Catholic friends gave us a total bargain rate for our use of their accommodation in ‘the name of ecumenism’, which we were very grateful for. They were lovely guys, clearly very lonely, and not up for gospel chats at all. But friendships were formed and addresses exchanged, so who knows if they will look us up when they come to Buj. Had lunch at one of the pastors’ house, and there discovered quite how far they had to walk to get water. Had I known, I would not have been so profligate in my use of it.

Left there and as we drove along the road, there were streams of people for miles who were slowly heading home. My confidence was growing that the wheels would last, but I was aware that we were stuffed if a tyre burst. We got to the main road, and then to Muyinga, where we picked up DD, who said that he struggled to find a single believer in the whole town. So work is needed in this neck of the woods. He had again tried to go to the sight where his father was murdered in 1993, but was warned away as he approached, as his actions may have been conceived as inflammatory and provocative. There was no diesel at any of the petrol stations, so we left and hoped there was enough in the tank to make it the 85km to Ngozi. Blasted there, filled up, and continued beyond to Kayanza, which is where we are spending the night at the Catholic sisters’ retreat centre. It is beautiful and calm.

Rang up Buj. Unlike the peace and solitude here, there was a lot of shooting in the Kanyosha suburb last night, which is Juvenal’s part of town. He spoke to his family and they are all safe. Went to the local inn for supper, and sat there discussing our dreams for the country. There are so many needs crying out to be met, so many valid areas of ministry are being neglected, and the potential is simply huge. I must not take the whole burden on myself – it is the Lord’s, but I can’t help feeling at one and the same time a mixture of both excitement and heaviness at the burden of responsibility. But what a cracking weekend – a massive privilege to be called to this kind of work. Here’s trusting we make it safely back to Buj early tomorrow morning once the roads have been opened. PRAISE THE LORD!