Shabana and Prospere

Shabana (fist pump)

Shabana showed up at the Methodist Guest House. He brought his brother Prospere.

Taylor had met Shabana back in 2005 in Kamina. That year, she had graduated from American University in Washington, D.C., with a master’s in international development and moved to Kamina where Bishop Ntambo appointed her the Director of Community Development for the North Katanga Conference. Two doors down from her house in Kamina, Shabana and his siblings lived. His father is a pastor serving in a remote location. There are orphans whose parents are dead. Then there are orphans whose parents are dislocated from the family. The Bishop allowed Shabana and his brothers and sisters to live in an old house once occupied by missionaries.

Shabana has a degree in English from the teachers college and will serve as translator and language coach. Prospere speaks less English than I speak French, so he just sat and smiled. I liked him instantly. Something about his smile.

I had no plan, except for the idea that I wanted to ride my bicycle a total of at least 1,000 kilometers into the remote districts. At this point I was completely clueless as to what I would find, how I would survive, and who would go with me. Before I left the States, I had received an email from the Rev. Joseph Mulongo, the district superintendent of the Mulongo District. He said that he would meet me in Tenke and ride with me the whole way. I knew from that email that regardless of what we ended up doing, the trip was already a success. When Shabana and Prospere showed up, the team was almost complete.

I offered Shabana and his brother soft drinks. Mama Odia kept bottles of Coke and Fanta in the guesthouse refrigerator for sale for 300 Congo Francs each. Taylor had taught me the trick of saving the bottle caps in a small bowl on the dining room credenza to keep track of how much I owed her. She also made and sold the best beignets.

We sat drinking our Fantas and planning the trip. First thing was to get ourselves to Tenke where we would meet up with District Superintendent Mulongo. We needed to find bicycles for Prospere and Shabana and Mulongo. Tomorrow we would shop for bikes and find a way to Tenke.

Prospere

I gave each a one hundred dollar bill as an advance so that they could buy what they needed for the trip. Prospere was delighted, but Shabana asked if I could pay him the full amount I was planning to pay him so that he could settle his debts before leaving town. I agreed and gave him four more $100 bills.

US$100 bills are the currency franca for travelers in the DRC. However, they have to be new and flawless. I carry my money in those little bank envelops, $1,000 per envelop. Some system.

The next day, (I don’t even know what day it is.) Shabana and Prospere arrive around 10:00 am and we go shopping. In a bustling side street we find the Taqwa bus company. The bus for Kolwesi leaves every morning at 8:00 am sharp. $50 each. We buy three tickets.

Next we find a shop that sells bikes. The bikes we want, made in India, name brand Kinga, model 4X4s, are $100 each and come in a box of four. For ease of handling and in case we pick up another rider, we buy the box of four bicycles. The bicycles, however, are at the warehouse and we’ll have to come back for them in about an hour or so.

Shabana has errands to run, so we agree that I’ll go back to the guesthouse to get my bicycle and we will meet at the bus office at 4:00 to arrange for the bikes to travel as cargo to Tenke. I had originally thought that I would assemble my bike in Lubumbashi and ride to Tenke. That would take two days. But the road to Tenke is busy with heavy trucks that make riding a bicycle a life risking exercise.

We just got the box of new bikes and my bicycle case to the Taqwa office just before they closed for the day. We paid for their transport, another $50 for each case, wrapped them in packing tape, and left them to be preloaded as freight on the bus. The bus goes all the way to Kolwesi, but we’ll be getting off at Tenke. Our bikes are well marked to get off at Tenke.

The next morning Shabana, Prospere, and I board the bus to Tenke. And it departs promptly at 8:00 a.m. Unlike the minibuses, this bus has assigned seats, one to a seat, except for small children, who are distributed around the bus on laps. The interior is a bit worn, but not uncomfortable. The windows open for fresh air.

As is the custom, we have church on the bus as we leave town. A pentecostal preacher leads us in singing, reads scripture, preaches, takes an offering, then gets off at the edge of town. Actually, not a bad sermon and everybody on board appreciates it.

In about 6 hours and a handful of stops along the way, we arrive at the bus stop for Tenke. Actually, the town of Tenke is another 7 kilometers off the road. The stop is a small strip of make-shift shops on the side of the road.

We are met by Boy Scouts who load our luggage, including bicycles, onto their bikes and lead out toward town. We follow on the footpath.

About halfway to town, we are met by the United Methodist Women, singing and dancing in uniform. (Yellow headscarves, green blouses, and kikwembes with the United Methodist print) It’s singing and dancing the rest of the way in.

United Methodist Women of the Tenke District