Harare: A Diocese in Exile: Its Bishop's Reflections

As one reads the Hebrew Scriptures (our Old Testament), one is confronted by two very important themes of the Exodus and Exile that thread their way in the whole Bible. A large proportion of the Old Testament story is taken up by the Exile. The Exile experience is not the preserve of the Jewish people many centuries ago. It is an experience that is ongoing in many parts of our modern world. Using the words refugee and exile interchangeably, there are many millions of refugees or exiles living in different parts of the world. On the African continent we are all too familiar with the plight of refugees or exiles from countries like the Congo, Rwanda, Eritrea, Somalia, Sudan etc. However, this is not an African phenomenon alone for there are refugees or exiles from other parts of the world outside of the African continent like Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine, Kosovo etc. Although we tend to use the two words refugee and exile interchangeably there is a subtle difference between them. A refugee normally decides or is forced by circumstances to decide to flee one’s familiar surroundings be it home, country or region either because of war, political violence, persecution or economics for another country. An exile is either intentionally forced by victors or more powerful people to relocate elsewhere other than your own country or is intentionally banished, deported or expelled to another country by somebody else. You have no choice in the matter, you are literally cast out. There are cases of people who for religious reasons go into voluntary exile because of their spiritual quest – they are the exception. 

Christians belonging to the Anglican Dioceses of Harare and Manicaland both in the Church of the Province of Central Africa in Zimbabwe are exiles in the sense that they are literally intentionally banished from their Church buildings by former bishops Dr Nolbert Kunonga formerly of Harare Diocese and Mr Elson Jakazi formerly of Manicaland. The two former bishops with the assistance of the Zimbabwe Republic Police have driven all members of the Church of the Province from their Churches. We currently hold our church services in tents, school halls, and rented space from other denominations or under trees. We have been driven out of our familiar environment from which we draw both identity and meaning. This loss is both psychological and territorial. We see ourselves as being in exile and we pray fervently for deliverance and a return to our Churches. Our exilic experience is very painful for us as we have had to endure being tear-gassed, arrests, spending time in police cells, being ridiculed, having lies peddled against us such as being accused of being homosexuals and promoting the gay cause in Zimbabwe; of belonging to the opposition  political party (MDC) and therefore promoting the “regime” change agenda. We are harassed and threatened with no one to turn to for justice. Clergy have been evicted from rectories, some arrested, and church buildings have been turned into schools and others into brothels. The exile is both a place or state of banishment, loneliness and suffering as well as one of reflection, adjustment and renewal. Like the children of Israel in exile who had to make numerous adjustments in their community and spiritual life in order to maintain their faith in God while living in a strange land, our people in the Diocese of Harare have also had to make numerous adjustments in order to maintain their faith in God and participate in God’s mission despite their suffering in very strange places - in exile. We feel with the children of Israel of the past who lamented their loss as their tormentors demanded songs of joy from them. The Psalmist picks up the way they felt when he says;

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept

when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars we hung our harps, 

for there our captors asked us for songs,

our tormentors demanded songs of joy; 

they said, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’

How can we sing the songs of the Lord

while in a foreign land?   Ps. 137:1-4

As the exile period prolongs we have had to make adjustments and we realise and know that we can actually sing songs of joy - songs of the Lord even in a ‘strange land’ because we know that our Lord Jesus whose other name is Emmanuel is with us even in exile. He has not deserted us. As Archbishop Desmond Tutu puts it, “We have a God who does not give us advice, who does not write to tell us how to solve our problems; we don’t have a God who stands miles and miles away from us. Our God comes; our God enters the furnace of our suffering. Our God is Emmanuel – God with us!” (Tutu: ‘God is not a Christian’ p. 63, 75). The Jamaican reggae gospel singer Terrence Campbell has also aptly put it when he sang, “God is God in the fiery furnace; in the lion’s den and in the new creation.” God will be God! Not even the exile can change the nature of God. The stories of Daniel and Esther among others were proof enough for the exiles that God was with them in exile. Yes we can and are singing the Lord’s songs in exile because we are confident that God is with us right here in exile! Because God is with us, hope abounds among the exiles that in due course, God will lead us back home to our church buildings and other properties. Just as in the Book of Exodus we read that Yahweh “saw the misery of his people in Egypt; heard them crying out because of the slave drivers; was concerned about their suffering; he came down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians” Ex. 3:7-10. He is the same unchanging God who has also seen our misery, he has heard our cry and he is concerned about our suffering. Therefore he will come to our rescue. This is our hope!

Attitudes of an Exiled Diocese

The exile brings out both the good and the bad from people as they try to respond to it and also as they try to make sense of the experience. Like the children of Israel in Jeremiah’s time there are those who thought it would never happen in our church because of our Canons and Constitution, very clear structures and being an ordered church. When it started happening it was for some an unthinkable nightmare, one from which others have not woken up from. For Judah, the exile was regarded as both punishments for their stiffneckedness that resulted in refusing to follow God’s ways and for their idolatry as their prophets like Jeremiah pointed out to them from time to time. In the case of Israel the purpose for the exile was both penal (punishment for disobedience) and remedial (corrective thus providing an opportunity for renewal and dependency on God). What seemed to be the indispensable supports of the Temple, Priesthood ritual, and feasts were no longer available to them in exile. There, by the rivers of Babylon the exiles had to work out what had gone wrong that they were in that situation as well as try and figure out what was God’s purpose now that they were in that situation. To help them do this, prophets like Isaiah and Ezekiel assisted them at their point of great need, weakness and vulnerability. It was also a point in their life when they were perhaps more amenable to receive God’s word.

There were those among our flock who believed very strongly that our exile like that of the children of Israel was caused by the sins of its members and God was punishing us all because of those sins. The remedy as they saw it was simply “to repent and turn away from our sinful ways”. Prayer and fasting became very common practice. Numerous representations were made to the bishop pleading with him to call for Diocesan days of prayer and fasting so that the period of our exile may either be removed or shortened. Although they could see the perpetrators of the evil causing suffering among them they associated it with their unnamed sins. All-night prayer meetings are common amongst the various guilds in the Diocese. Many believed that the exile would be short lived. But as months turned to years the attitude changed to one of acceptance of the reality and that we may be in exile for a little longer.

As it became more apparent that there were “invisible hands” in our government giving support to Dr. Kunonga and that until those people changed their minds nothing was going to move. The exile was now viewed as something that had very little to do with religion but had everything to do with politics. After all we were being accused of being members of the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) and therefore advocates of regime change in Zimbabwe. Therefore, in addition to prayer and fasting political engagement was encouraged and sought in particular the president of Zimbabwe (but were never given an audience until the visit of the Archbishop of Canterbury), the vice presidents and other top ZANU PF people. A lot of people both Anglicans and non-Anglicans were and are very concerned and angry with government for what they perceive as the State orchestrated persecution of Anglicans. The State police made it very clear to us that they were expelling us from our churches because of “Orders from above”. They risked being cited for contempt because of following “orders from above” that gave them the powers to disregard Court Orders. Today many believe that we are in exile because of those “orders from above” which must be rescinded from “above”. The attitude to exile is now both political and religious.

Patrick Whitworth says, “exile is the church’s best friend” He goes on to say that if a review of church history has shown us anything it is that: 

 “… exile has often been the price of change, renewal and at times revival. In the early centuries of the church’s history it led an exilic life, it fully lived out the call in the New Testament to be exiles and strangers in the land and therefore to look elsewhere for its home. Down the years of church history men and women of exile provided the change that was necessary to uphold truth, to defy powerful systems, to challenge human-made philosophies and declare the gospel message in its essential form against the accretions of the church and to espouse a spirituality that was capable of reforming, or if necessary discarding, worn out and corrupt rituals that so easily take root. The thread from the history of the church over the past fifteen hundred years is that exile is often the price of renewal and of substantive change” (Whitworth, 2008).

Our exile has provided us with opportunities to re-examine our relationship with God both individually and corporately with astonishing results. Comments like “I used to go to church as matter of mere routine but now I know why I go and I choose to go to church and no one will stop me”. Or, “they can prevent me from worship God in our church building but they will not prevent me from worshipping God”. Seeing the bravery and commitment of our congregations they were preventing from going into their church buildings, one policeman remarked “this is the church to belong to”. Some of my friends who are ministers in other denominations in Zimbabwe have often commented that “there is a revival going on in the Anglican Church in Zimbabwe” because of what they see happening in our church. The church is growing both numerically and spiritually. The exile has reawakened the insatiable hunger for the word of God. As a diocese we have responded by making theological studies available to the laity by introducing a Bishop’s Certificate in Theology. We also produce Bible Study Series at least twice a year for the whole diocese to engage in the same study in order that we grow together as diocese. In addition there is now a very strong emphasis on teaching at all levels of the parish and diocese. A conference system has been introduced where members of the diocese are encouraged to attend for a weekend of teaching on selected topics. For the clergy, continuing education programmes have become quarterly occurrence. As a result of us not having access to our “temple”, the usual rituals that go with “temple worship” have had to be transformed as we adapt to strange environments.

Participating in God’s mission has not stopped because of being in exile with its numerous financial challenges. As a diocese in exile we have played our part in feeding the hungry, caring for orphans and widows, caring for those in prison, advocacy work, participating in environmentally friendly  agriculture (Farming God’s Way or Fundamentals of agriculture) etc. in addition to the usual parish ministries. Although it has been very challenging financially, it continues to be a great joy, honour and privilege to work with God in God’s mission.

Among some of the astonishing things happening in exile is the generosity of the people of our diocese. In the midst of economic turmoil in Zimbabwe, the financial burdens caused by having to find accommodation for all our clergy when they were evicted from rectories and the costs involved in renting space for worship every Sunday, our people have continued to give sacrificially to keep the diocese running, meet all our obligations to our clergy and the parishes etc. Their generosity is truly amazing. They have offered to help take services in a neighbouring sister diocese which has less clergy than us with our diocese meeting the travel costs. One can definitely say that the exile has contributed towards bringing the best out of a diocese in exile. 

We are exiles, a pilgrim people who continuously find “grace in the wilderness”. We will defiantly sing the Lord’s songs jubilantly and even triumphantly in ‘this strange land’ of our exile! For God is God, Emmanuel in the fiery furnace and the lion’s den of our exile.

The Rt. Revd. Dr. Chad N. Gandiya

Bishop of the Diocese of Harare CPCA, Zimbabwe. 

June, 2012.

Letter from Nola, November 2010



As over two and a half months have elapsed since my last epistle, I think it is time to update you on my life here in ‘the bush’. Again, this will be a photocopied letter with a personal P.S, due to lack of time and energy to write very long, individual letters! Well, the main news is that I’m still very happy, contented and busy here! Time is flying by, so much so that I wish I could slow it down!

A while ago, I decided to extend my stay, from departure on 5^th October to 26^th of November, which is near the end of the school year here. I had to take off two or three Fridays (short school days) to sort this out at the only (very posh) travel agent I could find, which is closed on Saturdays. Now I’ll be very British and begin with the weather! Having been warm all the time for a couple of months or more, the weather changed, quite suddenly, in mid may, becoming very chilly around 5.30 pm until about 10 am the next day when the sun is hot again and the sky its usual glorious sapphire blue. These huge temperature differences present clothing problems. I contacted Cindy, friend and custodian of 9 Richmond Gardens to send me a few items I couldn’t get here. It was lovely to receive them last weekend – they’d been en route for about a month. However, I was able to keep warm with layers of clothes; I had here a few items I had bought. In the early evening one lot of layers is topped with a warm market bought tracksuit in dark green, with Blue Shark embroidered on it across the front. My bedroom is always quite warm, as the sun streams in during the afternoon and most importantly, my bed is very cosy. For school, different layers are topped with a market bought beige corded fur lined jacket (20). Until I received my sensible winter shoes from Cindy I’ve been wearing a pair of openwork summer shoes and – don’t be jealous – a pair of black plimsolls with pink floral wide decoration around the openings – bought here of course. I needed them for walking on the sandy tracks around here. With all this attire plus a pair of navy warm gloves, brought by someone from South Africa with others to be sold at a small profit I really am a sight to behold! Continuing about the weather, everyone has warned me that it’s very windy in July, and part of August. Indeed today and yesterday it was very breezy and dull. My colleagues have warned me also, that it will be blisteringly hot in October and that sounds appealing at the moment. Sorry, the weather report was too long!

Going right back to the Easter holidays, towards the end I spent a very enjoyable week at the bishops house just using it as a very pleasant base and doing my own thing during the day. It was lovely to have time to browse and to get to know the city better. I bought several items for my cottage including curtain material for the sitting room windows; there were old curtains on them! I’m quite proud of my hand sewn efforts. Bishop Cleopas and his wife Soreni, daughter Alison (13) and son Brian (early 20’s) lived in England for 6 years before they returned to Bulawayo, when Cleopas agreed to accept this position. Brian remained in university in the UK. This was a great sacrifice as he had been just offered a parish in Coventry and also the opportunity to undertake study for a Masters degree. He’s very dynamic and works extremely hard, as does his wife, a great support to him in her role as the president of the Mothers Union in Matabeleland. I may have written before that the MU is a hope, very important organisation here and in other African countries, I believe. During that week I attended the weekly communion service, one morning in the tiny chapel at the former rectory headquarters of the MU. There were just five of us – the bishop, Sonemi, two staff members of the HQ and myself. It was very special, and even then, with so few the singing was powerful. In contrast, I went with Sonemi to a monthly afternoon service / meeting in a church, for all the MU branches in the area – there were over 400 women of all ages all in their blue and white uniforms. As well as worship there was a meeting and then a speech from the diocese office, his theme was on ‘giving’. At the end I was surprised to hear members asking him several, very searching challenging questions. Afterwards there was tea in the hall so like MU teas everywhere – sandwiches, buns, plenty of hot tea… but no tray bakes, as in Northern Ireland! Their son Brian was with the family for a short break and was concerned, as many of you have been, about the volcanic ash disrupting his travel plans. I treated the family to a meal one evening in the Bsbaways club – a very grand building from colonial years, with many spacious lounges, much silver and other grandeur. Though the menu was short, the food was excellent...  and very reasonable. I was surprised that such a place exists nowadays, in Bikeways. There are quite a few fast food cafes as well as family restaurants. I often treat myself to breakfast in Munadi (mans delicious). It is a very cheerful restaurant with colourful décor and bright young staff members.

The days of sitting on the floor of the back of the closed in windows pickup truck may be over, as the community took delivery of an 18 year old Landover station wagon, after Easter. It was sent with a smaller 9 year old Landrover for the bishop by the friends of St James in England. The former is supposed to seat about ten. There are often more squeezed in and on the return trip many with shopping bags and other items. It never ceases to amaze me just how many people and stuff can be pressed into a vehicle. For return journeys we are asked to be at the cathedral for 4 pm but never leave the city until at least an hour after. There always seems to be things to be bought, people to visit etc. so all the passengers go on these additional trips as well. Like everyone else, I just have to be patient. Invariably we arrive back after sunset so I have seen some fabulous skies on the return journey. We always look first as we approach the gates to see if there’s electricity. It is a bit miserable to arrive back when it’s dark and cold- before the pioneer spirit arrives and candles are lit and water boiled on the gas ring, often by the light of the headlight that Ken Worthley gave me which is great! We had a whole month earlier, without power cuts but during that time, we had three days without water due to a failing pump and then a burst pipe. We all keep various containers filled with water at all times, but I find I have to be very economical. However if I need extra water I can get it from grace who has very large containers. I have a lovely photo of three of the grade 6 girls, balancing buckets of water on their heads which they carried without spilling a drop, along that rough track. I could write a chapter on the skill and ease of the women and girls carrying so many different, heavy items on their heads. One day I met a little group of pre school pupils making their way from their building to the primary school and one little girl had her bag on her head! On the theme of carrying, I’ve never seen only two push chairs since I arrived in Zimbabwe, as all babies and young children are carried on their mothers backs – again it all looks so effortless and babies seem to be very secure and happy... never see any crying! One day when Karen, Violet’s 3 year old, was out of sorts, Grace tied her on her back, and she was contented, as Grace walked about with her on her back.

I am enjoying the teaching immensely, using the best books available to plan (I hope) interesting lessons. I’m finding that lots of sketches on the board and dramatising stories are helping understanding. It’s still a problem to know just how much is understood, as the pupils read well but may not comprehend the meaning. Sometimes when I’ve practically stood on my head and they seem to have got it, a few days later show that they haven’t got it. But that’s the joy of teaching, wherever you are! I’ve introduced visits within the community so that we have first experiences to talk and write about. Four classes have been to the clinic and three staff members there were delighted to receive thank you cards and letters from the children. The male nursing assistant is so glad that he is going to write back and thank the children for the cards!

I have a full programme. Monday to Friday 8 – 9 I take the grade 3 class (8years) for English in a disused chapel. This gives Margaret (67) a break, as she teaches a double class – grades 2 and 3 – due to a teacher leaving and not being replaced. Then from 9 – 1 I take 3 classes (grade 4 – 7) for English – all aspects. There’s a break from 10 to 10:30 and sometimes I have 11 to 12 for marking. In the afternoons there is always preparation to do and at the weekends, the plan for the following week. The staff colleagues are very encouraging and I feel that I’m an established member of the team. I’ve been asked to lead a staff meeting I just showed what I do with the classes and bits and pieces I’ve made for the slower learners. This week it’s my turn to take the assembly on Monday and Friday. The teachers were delighted when the grade 3 class sang a chorus with actions that we hope to teach the whole school. The pupils do know a lot of choruses in English an Ndebele, which they learn at the Sunday school here and also at Pentecostal gatherings in their villages, apparently. The population is over 90% Christian and like Northern Ireland, many people attend the many churches. My only problem now, is that I have no more choruses up my sleeve. I’ll have to send an SOS to Ballymore! Also I asked for a few more singing games for small children, as I take the grade 1’s for 2 half an hour sessions outside with Janet, their teacher. So far I’ve taught ‘Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush’, ‘Hokey Cokey’, ‘Here We Come Gathering Nuts in May’ and believe it or not ‘The Farmer Wants a Wife’!

The pupils continue to be a pleasure to teach and they now respect me as a “normal” teacher (I think!!)They no longer laugh at my attempts to pronounce some of the long Ndebele names… but I am getting there. The pre-school children still find me hilarious in appearance. When I meet them they can’t understand why I can’t properly reply to their chatter. They are so cute. As they were calling me by a word which in their language means ‘white person’, Margaret the pre-school teacher has instilled into them that they must call me by my name. So now I’m greeted as Miss Nixon. Many times over, but still there are looks of bewilderment that I still can’t respond correctly!

After the aforementioned staff meeting, as I walked home and thought about a remark Stanley (deputy head) had made about it being a pity that I hadn’t more time to teach reading, I decided that I should concentrate my efforts on the primary school as though I enjoyed teaching in the high school; my sessions were really an added extra. The head of this school understood and my colleagues are pleased. As the finale with the form 2 high school girls they prepared short talks on life in their unique boarding school and I brought groups of our grade 7 girls to be the audiences. It was fascinating to listen to such themes as toilet cleaning duty and owls in the classroom roof space these appear through the broken ceiling during their prep time, 7pm till 8 30.

The practical skills and acceptance of normal tasks of the primary pupils even the youngest are amazing. First each morning all rooms are hives of activity as floors are brushed using grass brooms which they make and bring in. you can imagine just how much sand is carried in on feet. A few weeks ago when they were desperate for football practise to begin and the man had not come to slash the grass in the field they suggested bringing in slasher form home and for several afternoons girls and boys cut the grass using these long carved metal implements rather like thin hockey sticks. As an interschool sports day is immanent the older children were asked to bring in very wide strong hoes from home and spent a busy few hours digging up plants and plant remains left behind when the man had taken off the surface of the field where netball will be played. The young male teacher Gabriel and some children mixed ash and water to use for the workings of the pitches the work ethic is alive and well at St. James’!!!

On my way to and from school I may meet some of the manual workers who all know me and use the standard greeting: good morning, how are you? To which I must reply fine thank you how are you? From grade 1 the children are taught this and when a visitor enters a class room all rise and chant it. Continuing my walk I may see mothers some with babies on their backs slashing grass in lieu of preparing school food. They are always well dressed cheerful and ready for a chat! On my way home I may meet a scotch cart drawn always by four donkeys in which may be one or more people on their way from a village to the clinic. There is a nurse in charge there assisted by an Anglican nun sister Kathryn and peter a resident in the community. The can deal with all straight forward medical problems. Serious cases are referred to one of the two small hospitals some miles away from where an ambulance would come if needed. There are some beds in cubicles in the clinics but these are only for day use.

You may remember that I mentioned Violet and Father Albert who was in charge here and both were very kind and supportive during my first weeks. They were moved to a parish in Bulawayo at the beginning of May. I was sorry to see them go but we do keep in touch and I’m looking forward to spending this weekend with them. They have Karen already mentioned, two primary school boys and a son at boarding school. I am still being very well supported but Grace and Father Albert who is now in charge as well as being department head of the high school. Another friend who was moved suddenly was one of the fine Anglican sisters Constance with whom I got on very well. She is great “craic” and a mine of interesting information on Zimbabwean life and customs. We keep in touch by phone and perhaps I’ll have a chance to visit her though she is a long way from here now. There are three remaining sisters. Katherine, Justine and a young woman Joylyn who works in the high school library. They live in a very pleasant oasis by the high school. Rooms are built around a small court which has a large tree in the middle giving shade to the whole complex. They have also their own small chapel as well as feeling free to drop in with grace and father Albert I also know I’m very welcome to call with the sisters, enjoy the comfort of their sitting room and , of course, as always a cup of tea.

You can imagine the social life here isn’t vibrant. Apart from Grace and Violet when she was here people don’t entertain, even for light refreshments. I think the reasons are that everyone is very hard up, salaries are very meagre. I find that food costs about the same as in the UK. And the other reason maybe that the homes are very simple so there is no spare crockery etc.

For my birthday and slao Margaret’s (she was 67 on 8^th May) I decided to have a tea party. To which I invited the primary school staff, Grace (Father Albert was away). I managed to buy a fairly large cake, a selection of homemade type buisits and I made sandwiches of course! They all enjoyed it so much, some saying later that they never go into each other’s homes and another said we can’t do that because we haven’t got the things. I must repeat this occasion again soon with the recipes you sent Helen! The whole school sang to me and also the congregation included happy birthday. I’ve had one dinner party, a posh name for a simple chicken meal cooked on my two electric plates for father A and Violet (before they left) and grace and father Albert, various couples, individuals and a lively group of teachers have been for coffee etc and chat.

An enjoyable baby shower party was held a few weeks ago to which the women of the community were invited. First there was a welcoming service at the church at 5 pm. The parents and grace holding Lennorah the baby girl knelt at the door of the church for prayers and repeated responses before moving to the alter for more prayers. And then taking their seats in the pews. The hall in Ndebele seemed a very moving service the party was the 7pm in the home of Stanley the dep head and his lovely wife Margaret. The baby’s granny is Lennorah, a teacher for years at the high school. Her son the child’s father also teaches there. There was lively music and dancing and letting down hair. A delicious buffet and the most extravert of the high school teachers opened the pile of baby presents with many jokes, some of which were translated to me by Grace.

The baby’s mother seemed a very quiet girl. Over awed no doubt by these exceptionally lively young Sec. teachers. We walked home under the unbelievably beautiful African starry skies at 11 pm, very late here. Fortunately, the next day was a public holiday – Africa day- so I could have a lie in.

I continue to be enthralled by the singing at our services on Wednesday and Sunday. The Ndebele sung responses interlace with the familiar Anglican liturgy are very beautiful and rousing. One of the highlights is the Nicene creed after every short phrase sung by the girls the congregation sings in Ndebele we believe, and they really sound as if they do!

Another lovely part is the peace, sometimes in English hands held across the rows. Slight swaying and in second verse hands raised. Very reverent and affirming. Before reading the psalm a response is given (a verse from that psalm) and repeated twice before eth reading commences then the reader pauses three of four times an says “response” and the congregation repeats the given verse, not sure if this makes sense as I describe it. I find that these customs ensure that the congregation is actively involved all the time. I joined a very special trip to a recently reopened church a few very rocky miles from here. The route reminded me of those Landrover adverts crossing impossible terrain. We were warmly welcomed by a waiting group from the small settlements we had passed. The church is tiny, sand walls and thatched roof. Inside were two benches and a low school type table on which a white cloth was placed and a white St. James communion sieber was used. About twenty to thirty people of all ages came and sat on the floor at the side front, all knew the words and sang powerfully. I found the experience very moving. At the end I was welcomed all in Ndebele but when they looked at me, smiled and applauded I knew to rise and acknowledge their welcome. Apparently the church as founded by an English minister who is now back in the UK.

This really will be the last sheet (thank goodness you may say!)

Some of you know that I was scared I may encounter mice or even worse, rats in my home, so I came armed with mouse traps and poison from Walter’s shop in Tandragee. Early on I was assured that as I have no ceiling and no roof space I’d be okay, as long as I keep doors and windows closed, to keep out snakes also. I’ve passed the poison to Stanley and Margaret, who were troubled by rats stampeding in their roof space at night… ugh. There are many varieties of snakes here, apparently but they usually stay away from humans. There was an Australian teacher here years ago who collected live snakes and kept them in his home. He used to pay children to bring him specimens (presumably the harmless type) and he often had small snakes in his pockets, which he would take out in the middle of class to show the children. I’m so glad he’s not here anymore!

In one week I heard about/saw some unpleasant creatures – the head teacher in the primary school Simangaliso said that she would have to visit her brother because he’d been bitten on the hand by a snake – serious at first but fine in the end. As she told me this, outside her modest office, a rat ran into it pursued by some children, but it escaped. Then Dado, my lovely cleaning lady didn’t come one day; her only goat had been taken by a leopard. Again, these animals are there but no one ever seems to see them. A day or two later I read in the newspaper that an elephant had been rampaging in the suburbs of the city, and sadly had killed someone in a car. Since hearing/seeing these wild life details all has been quiet. Apparently soon, monkeys will start to come into the St James’ area, when all the maize has been harvested, seeking food. Sometimes en route to town we see a few scampering across the road, and we see the odd kudu and impala.

Well, as I sit here at 5pm it is getting cooler, and darkness isn’t too far away. The girls are shouting and laughing on the sports field nearby. My home is in the ideal position as I am on the main track from St James and the high school is quite near, so I hear all the liveliness of the girls at various times of the day and evening.

To close – I know I write far too much but I just can’t be succinct. When I start I feel like I’m having a conversation. I haven’t mentioned email, which can be a slow and frustrating process, but the men in the centre I use are very friendly and helpful. I can only manage to keep in touch with Pauline and Anne and perhaps one or two others occasionally.

I am very grateful to God everyday that I feel so well and have plenty of energy, and I am so grateful and honoured that so many people in Ireland and England are praying for me regularly.

Thank you all for your interest, thoughts and prayers.

With love and prayers,

Nola

Letter from Nola, April 2010

17^th April 2010

For those who haven’t heard on the grapevine, I’d like to reassure you that I’m very happy and contented here!

I spent the first few days at the home of the bishop, his wife and daughter in Bulawayo, where I received a very warm welcome. On Tuesday 9^th March they drove me to St James’ Mission, in the bush, 50 miles from Bulawayo, along, mainly, a single track Tarred road with wide, hard, sandy verges for passing, and with many pot-holes. The final stretch is a single sandy track with deep ruts and pond-like puddles. (A normal saloon car would last very few journeys on this route!)

I received another great welcome from the rector of the community, Father Amon (?) and his wife, Violet, and later from Father Albert, ordained and also deputy head of the Girls High School, and his wife, Grace. These two couples, especially Violet and Grace, give me great support and friendship.

St James’ Mission consists of a Girls Boarding School, with 580 pupils; a Primary School with 230 children; a clinic; an incomplete sports stadium; and a large, plain, but very peaceful church. Dotted around the large site, amongst many trees, are simple bungalows and thatched round houses, the homes of teaching and non-teaching staff. The many young High School teachers tend to go home to the city at weekends, but those with families stay and some have gardens where they grow maize and vegetables for their own use. There are always many free range hens, sometimes with flocks of chicks, running around! Violet keeps three or four pigs, and raised broilers, recently slaughtered, to augment the family income.

There is a team of manual workers, whose main job seems to be slashing the grass, a feature of the bush, which grows rapidly in the sandy soil and would soon take over.

The boarding school pupils come mainly from Bulawayo and Victoria Falls (also a town!), 300 miles north. Fees are £200 per term and there are some scholarships. They are delightful girls – so polite and yet full of fun. Their buildings are simple, single-storey blocks of dormitories and classrooms. The first morning I was wakened at 4.45 am by a distant clanging sound – it was the girls’ wake-up call! They do all the cleaning of the school and church, tend the outside areas and, on Saturdays, They do their own laundry (hand-washing, of course), including their attractive pale orangey/tan dresses with cream facings round the sleeves and square necklines.

Sport is very important and often teams are taken to inter-schools events in the community’s lorry, closed in with high small windows. The passengers sit on benches around the sides – no Health & Safety regulations to worry about, and perhaps more fun for the young people than a luxury coach! The Mothers’ Union also used this vehicle to attend a special all-day event recently. I travelled in style, in the cab squashed with the driver, Violet and Grace (neither slight ladies!)

The primary school should have seven classes, but grades 2 & 3 have had to be amalgamated, as a teacher transferred to the High School and the authorities refuse to replace him – hence the pleasure in my arrival (hope they’re not disappointed!!). There are over 30 in each class; 50+ in the aforementioned, which is taught by Margaret, aged 67, who is the wife of the Dean of the Cathedral, but lives in rooms by the girls’ dorms during the week. The head teacher, Simangalisa, and all her staff are very friendly and work hard in very difficult circumstances – poor buildings, no electricity, no equipment and few books; blackboard and chalk are the only teaching tools. Despite these inadequacies most of the children can read English well, are excellent spellers and do beautiful handwriting. I believe that the mathematics I see on the blackboards is of a higher level than that in the UK.

Some of the primary pupils are the children of the staff of the community but most are very poor, from five outlying villages, which I have yet to see. Some walk long distances. They all receive a nourishing meal at the end of the school day, around 1pm, cooked in a shed over open fires, in two huge cauldrons, by a rota of two mothers each day, from the villages. The menu is the same each day – beans cooked with oil and the staple food sadza, loved by all (including the bishop) which is a stiff porridge, made from maize meal. Money to provide the food is supplied by the Friends of St James (based in England, I think). Sometimes I choose to teach outside, under a tree. At first it was amazing to see the mothers arrive to prepare the meal, carrying long branches of firewood on their heads. One day a basket of melon-like fruits/vegetables was carried to augment the diet, I presume.

I teach English in grades 4-7 (9-13 years) every morning. I’ll not go into the challenge of teaching from wordy comprehension books, and no copies for pupils! English is very much a second language, and as the children are reluctant to speak so far, it’s hard to determine how much they understand, especially as their life experiences are very limited and none has access to TV or books. But, they are absolutely delightful and perfectly behaved! At first they dissolved into gales of laughter as I tried to pronounce their Ndeble names. I love the other names such as Precious, Blessed and Rejoice! I am on a month’s holiday at present, and hope to plan at least some first-hand experiences on which to base the English work.

On three afternoons I take a few English lessons in the High School. The Form 1 classes are reading very ancient abridged versions of Oliver Twist, three girls sharing each book – yet they can very eloquently recap and discuss the chapters. A great treat in another class was when I showed a very colourful brochure of N Ireland – the girls were amazed by the sights. Another day I brought in the many beautiful Bon Voyage cards which decorate my home. Again they were very interested and impressed!

I love my home – a thatched round house (24’ diameter); half is the living room, and the other two quarters are a bedroom and a spare room. Attached is a rectangular extension – a laundry room with large stone sink, a WC, simple shower room and a kitchen with double sink, dresser and a 2-ring electric hob. I am very comfortable and I just love the peace and quiet. I am near enough other homes not to feel isolated and yet far enough to feel private. Like all other residents I have to accept cheerfully the frequent, often prolonged, power cuts, which also affect the supply of water and phone lines. When the High School is open and there’s a power cut a generator is switched on from 6pm -9pm, but not in the holidays (too expensive). During the 5 day power cut over Easter I was supplied with hot meals, flasks of hot water for tea making and extra containers of water. I quite enjoyed reading by candle-light. I intend to buy a small gas ring soon. I have a fridge-freezer in my spare room!

Worship permeates all of life here. It is an unusual blend of high church rituals (incense etc.) and the most beautiful, exuberant singing of hymns and responses. My first experience was the midweek 7am communion service. The power and beauty of the girls’ singing can only be described as heavenly. The girls read the bible passages and prayers very well in English, and the hymns and responses are mostly in Ndebele.

The Easter services were very special, though the girls were on holiday, but everyone seems to be able to sing and all seem to know the words! On Easter Eve there was a Baptism service at which 20 adults and children were baptised in the outdoor font by candle-light (power cut) while lightning flashed and thunder rolled (rain came later). Before this there was a Communion service in the candle-lit church, and afterwards a time of celebration. A few people stayed in the church all night. Before dawn, at 5.30am, we met again around a bonfire, before going into the church to celebrate the Resurrection of Our Lord at day-break.

Communication with the outside world is through e-mail, accessed at a small internet centre in Bulawayo. Often there’s the time pressure of catching transport back home and, recently, when I had plenty of time, there was a city power cut! It is good to read e-mails and to reply to some, but in the long term I think good, old-fashioned letters will be best. I have an unpredictable land-line, from which I actually managed to ring Pauline in N Ireland. I was amazed! Mobiles aren’t much use out here, and there’s seldom time in the city to fiddle about trying to send texts!!

Transport, by the way, usually entails sitting on a foam mattress on the floor of the goods part of one of the sturdy (closed in, with windows) pick-up trucks of the community... one way of having an all-over massage, as we bump along! I’m impressed that everyone is always so good-humoured. (Don’t seem to be any moaners here!!)

Highlights so far:

A hike with Violet and Grace to an impressive metal suspension foot-bridge over a river – much scarier and longer than Carrick-a-Rede!

A celebration for 700 Mothers’ Union members, all in their blue/white Diocesan uniforms – a long, lively service, lunch, then a competition – over 20 groups sang or performed sketches before a panel of judges – high standards of performance! (I received a special welcome, had to say a few words – rousing applause!)

On Easter Monday, a surprise birthday party for Fr Albert (38). It was good to help with the preparations – I tried not to appear squeamish, when given a lesson on gutting one of several chickens. (I watched only, and then returned, thankfully, to chopping vegetables!!) It was a great feast.

A three night break at Victoria Falls with Violet and Grace. The magnificence of the falls cannot be described. On our first morning, at a Sunday service, a coincidence (or God-incidence!) a lay-minister, well known to Violet, was there, on business from Bulawayo. He became our chauffeur and guide, throughout our stay, taking us to places we wouldn’t have reached, as well as keeping his appointments. We saw elephants, baboons and other wild-life very close. A sunset cruise on the Zambezi was a perfect end to our trip.

How un-British, I nearly forgot to mention the weather! I love being warm all the time, though just this week I notice a slight nip in the early morning and in the evening. Temperatures have been in the 20s and 30s and it will still be this hot during the day. As my home and the classrooms are cool, I am able to cope very well. We have had some very dramatic thunder storms, but soon after the sun shines, peace is restored, and the foods disappear into the sand.

With the help of the primary school children I’ve learned a few of the Ndebele greetings and Fr Amon has just lent me a book “Lessons in Ndebele” by an English couple, published in 1972 – so boredom will not be a problem!

I am very grateful to everyone who is thinking of me and praying for me.

With love and prayers,

Nola



"Namata urinde." "Watch and pray."

This hymn is very important to Anglicans in Harare Diocese. To encourage each other they use the greeting, "Christian seek not yet repose," to which the response is, "Watch and pray."

Mukristu usanete, Christian, do not tire,

Inzwa Ngerosi yako, Listen to your angel,

Uri m�kati memhandu;You are amid enemies;

"Namata urinde." "Watch and pray."

Hondo dzese dzedima,The armies of darkness,

Dzisingamboonekwi, That are invisible,

Dzinoda kukubata; Want to seize you;

"Namata urinde." "Watch and pray."

Tora mapfumo ako Take up your spears,

Abate misi yese, Hold them on all days,

Satan anorindira; Satan is watching for them;

"Namata urinde." "Watch and pray."

Inzwa vakakurira Hear those who overcame,

Vari kukuringisa, They are conquering,

 Ivo vese vachiti, All of them saying,

"Namata urinde." "Watch and pray.

To hear this:   http://www.anglicancommunion.org/prayers.cfm

Visit of Bishop of Harare, October 2011