On the Lualaba

In the villages of Katanga, daylight and darkness rule equally. When the sun sets, there is still a lot of living to finish before sleeping. Cooking begins at four in the morning and will not end until midnight. Fishermen have been on the water since before dawn and do not return until it is too dark to fish. Nets need mending. Farmers will often spend the night in their fields. Life takes all day.

It is a magical time when the sun goes down. The air cools a bit and the pressure of life relaxes just enough. The moon and stars provide the necessary light, augmented by a charcoal fire or maybe a battery powered LED. It is a time of children playing and laughing. It is the time when church choirs practice and families sing for their own entertainment. It is a time for old men to argue politics, loudly.

The telling of our story begins on a boat, the UM Indiana, on the Lualaba (the Congo River), somewhere north of Ankora. We’ve tied up along the shore and will spend the night. Our boat has no lights for night navigation on the river. We won’t move again until first light.

We’re on our way from Mulongo to Kabalo to find Pastor Jacqueline Ngoy Mwayumba, the district superintendent of the Kabalo District. This is the virgin voyage of the UM Indiana and the greatest adventure to date for the team we call Friendly Planet Missiology. Pastor Jackie serves a district that has suffered greatly in the wars of eastern Congo. She has been sent there to help rebuild the community. We’re going to visit her to make sure she doesn’t feel abandoned, and to open up a supply line.

The team is led by the Rev. Joseph Mulongo, District Superintendent of the Mulongo District. This is the joke that never ends. He introduces himself, “I am Mulongo of Mulongo.” The joke keeps getting better. There is also a Dr. Ivan Mulongo of the Mulongo Hospital.

The Rev. Daniel Mumba is the district superintendent of the Tenke District, where this expedition began. It is home base, safe and comfortable; no running water, but electricity from the railroad station. Mumba’s special interest in this trip is that he began his ministry in the Kabalo District and hasn’t been back since the war.

The Rev. Floribert Kora, Africa University graduate and lecturer at the Kamina Methodist University, is on the team because of his experience in the war zone. He is one of the heroic pastors who remained in their appointments as the war swept through their districts. He is also one of the brave pastors the Bishop sent to talk the warlords into coming to the peace table.

I’m the missionary and lead missiologist. As missionary, I provide a link to the outside world. As missiologists, our team is constantly diagnosing and tweaking our mission delivery system. We use these expeditions as traveling leadership development seminars. Mulongo, Mumba and Kora are building their own leadership skills through cycles of application and reflection as we visit from district to district. They, in turn, are teaching what they are learning in the villages along the way.

Elephant (accent on the second syllable) is the captain of the Indiana. He has a real name and I’ve written it down in my journal somewhere, but he carries the name Elephant proudly. It is carved into his fishing pirogue. (dugout canoe) He and I do not share a common language, but we seem to have a special telepathy. He does not know French and seldom speaks Swahili. His language is the language of the village, Kiluba. I know only a handful of words in Kiluba, those he has taught me.

Elephant is a fisherman and a recognized village leader. He is often called “chief.” Some inherit the title; some earn it. He has earned it. He is certainly not rich by American standards, but Elephant has taken available resources and grown them into a successful fishing business. He’s an ace mechanic, having once been the driver for a missionary. He owns two motorcycles. Elephant was the logical choice of captain for our new boat.

Elephant has brought four others for his crew. They all wear the teal blue uniform t-shirts of Team Friendly Planet proudly. I’ve given elephant an Indianapolis Colts cap to wear for photos, but I think he prefers his own old orange baseball cap.

Our cargo was 110 sheets of metal roofing. It has already been delivered to a clinic under construction in the village of Kabumbulu Kimbayo. The villages of Kabumbulu form the “Red Zone” of the Mai Mai, the home of the warlord Vwende. “Everything you are hearing in the last, this village was the victim.” (Mulongo)

We are carrying three passengers on this trip. Two, a man and a woman, are being returned home from hospital stays at the Garenganze (Brethren) hospital in Mulongo. They are both very quiet and sleep most of the time. The third is a woman who had begged Mulongo to take her back to her home in Kabalo to complete some family legal business. After telling her “no” three times, Mulongo relented. She has been a real help. There was no stated expectation of her contribution in exchange for the passage, but she has jumped right in and taken charge of the cooking. It is fascinating watching her kill, clean and cook a chicken with no more tools than a pot and a big knife, using river water and a small charcoal fire in the bow of the boat.

The men cook, too. Even Mulongo. Two or three of the crew seem to particularly enjoy the task. There is no duty roster. People just seem to do what they have fun doing. There is an obvious pecking order. Everyone knows his or her place in the social order, but there is also a countering equality, where no task is beneath anyone. The tasks of everyday life are simple and obvious. In the midst of this poverty and struggle, life together is still joy filled. Not only am I having fun on this cruise down the Congo, the whole crew is enjoying it. Sure, the struggles are almost overwhelming, but life on the river is fun!

Besides the cooking, the team sings to fill the hours on the river. I occasionally will know the song (recognize the tune) and can join in. “It is Well with My Soul” sung in Swahili, in harmony, with feeling, by strong male voices, always brings me close to tears. But most of the time, I’m an observer and spend the time reflecting, writing in my jounal and imagining telling you these stories of the days on the river or of 1,000 kilometers crossing the mountains on a bicycle, but mostly what I want to tell you is what I’ve learned from sitting in the villages. I’ve learned a lot about the tragedies of war and poverty, of hunger and disease, but lots of people can tell you those stories. What I’ve learned, that I don’t think you can know yet to its fullest, is about the competency and strength of the leadership in the villages and remote districts of Katanga. The conventional wisdom is still that African leaders are too corrupt, or too trapped in cultural norms, or too primitive and unsophisticated to understand complex issues. And I must add that these stereotypes are believed by Africans, as well as Americans and Europeans. But while these assumptions are often proven correct, they are not necessarily the case. There is sufficient local leadership to solve the problems that plague the villages of eastern Congo. And while, for a time, there is a need to move resources from parts of the Church where there is abundance to places of great need, there is more than adequate resources for the rebuilding of these war torn communities right beneath their feet.

While the message to you is, “We’ve got to get some help to these people, and we’ve got to get it there right now,” the message to the people of the villages is, “Everything you need, God has already provided.” The biblical text our team leads with is from Revelation, chapter 3: “I know of your poverty and your suffering, but you are rich!”

I sit in the boat and marvel that so very few wazunga get to see what I am seeing. To be this deeply immersed in the village life inside the war zone of eastern Congo is a rare, rare treat. You should see this sunrise.

Bob