Losam Part 4 – The Journey Home

On Sunday, we woke up early, packed up everything, and went to attend church with the people of Losam.  Pastor Bones, self-named “the general,” was the pastor who lead our entire group with assistance of the youth pastors.  He gave a powerful sermon in the church service and shared his testimony about growing up as an orphan.  After the service, we set off for the church in Kitale and then for home, or so we thought.  What follows may be hard to believe, but I assure you it is not exaggerated in any way.  I tell this story exactly as I remember it.

After church, we left for Kitale around 1PM.  All in all, we had one Land Rover packed with 12 of us and pulled a trailer full of luggage.  We had two public matatus (14 passenger vans) that came the night before, and we had two of our own matatus that we had been using all week.  The trouble was that our two matatus were not running well at all because we had spent the week packing them full of up to 25 youth and many full water containers, driving on the Kenyan roads, if you can call them roads at all.  Thus, we had big problems.  I talked with the other pastors after church, and they said that the vans were almost fixed, so we took the Land Rover to the next center about 20 kilometers away because we had to drop of the rest of our remaining medical supplies at a local dispensary.  We waited at the center in the Land Rover, and we assumed it would only be about 20 minutes or so, but after a few hours, we were really starting to get concerned.  We had no cell phone signal, so we could not call them.  Finally, the two public vans arrived and the youth informed us that one van had broken down after about 15 kilometers.  They also informed us that one of the youth in the van was convulsing.  The drivers of the public vans refused to wait around so we sent them to Kitale.  We were not sure what to do.  We finally found a mechanic, discussed what was wrong with the one vans, named Posta Pay, and sent him with the doctors and a rope in the Land Rover while the rest of us remained with the trailer at the center.  You might be asking yourself what the rope was for, and you may not believe the truth but here it is anyways.  I discovered that the main problem among many others with Posta Pay was that the belt had broken.  I know that I said they were repairing Posta Pay in the morning and they were.  The problem is where do you get a fan belt for an engine when you are out in the middle of nowhere?  Well, their idea of repairing meant that they had reconnected the several pieces of the old belt together with speaker wire.  Don’t ask me how or why they thought this was a good plan.  Anyways, the belt of course broke after 15 kilometers.  This is were the rope comes into the story.  The mechanic’s idea was to replace the belt with the rope, which was more like twine.  We had no other option, so he hooked it up, and surprisingly, the fan was running.  So finally, at around 7, we see the other vans and Land Rover arrive at the center.  After six hours we had made it 20 kilometers.  Those of us that were waiting at the center were relieved to say the least because it gets dark at 7, and we had no place to sleep nor any idea about where or when the others were coming.  So we all set off together again for Kitale.  We made it another 5 kilometers or so, and Posta Pay starts overheating.  Apparently, the rope is not running as efficiently as a belt.  The other van goes ahead a few kilometers, and we remain behind to help Posta Pay.  The driver removed the water cap and steam flew everywhere.  We added what little water we had left and waited.  We were finally able to get ahold of the other van by cell phone after walking around everywhere to try to find a signal.  To our dismay, we discovered that the other van had broken down as well.  To add to our problems, we had one youth, who was throwing up, and another who had begun convulsing again.  Luckily, we had the doctors with us, so they were able to manage it.  It was close to 10 o’clock by this time, so we had traveled around 25 or so kilometers in 9 hours and still had over 100 to Kitale.  We had not eaten lunch or supper and had to conserve what little water we had for the vehicles, two of which were overheating after about 5 minutes of driving.  Our only hope was in another van that was sent to us in the afternoon to replace Posta Pay.  The problem was that we could not reach them by phone.  So we waited and waited.  When we finally got hold of our rescue van, we discovered that they had taken a wrong turn, were lost, and were about 5 hours away.  So here we are in the middle of nowhere, we had two vans broken down, our third was leaking brake fluid, we had no food, very little water, one youth sick, and another that needed a hospital, and our only hope of rescue was lost 5 hours away.  All the leaders that remained met, and we had literally no idea what to do.  We discussed all our options, laughed a lot (I think we were on the verge of insanity), and in the end, we decided to go forward very, very slowly.  At least it was a moral victory as we were going toward our destination rather than just sitting, even if we only made it a few kilometers ever hour.  We decided that before we set off, we better pray, so we joined hands, prayed, and discovered that one youth passed out during the prayer, but we set off nonetheless.  We continued to laugh at the whole predicament that we were in and began singing praises, especially “Blessed be Your Name” because of the bridge that says “You give and take away” for we joked that the Lord had given us two vans and He had taken them away.  But we  kept our spirits up and kept trudging along.  I began timing the time between breakdowns.  We usually made it around 4 minutes and one time we made it almost 9.  We finally made it to an area that had a clearing on the side of the rode and decided to stop and hopefully the other rescue van would arrive.  We also discovered that another rescue van was sent by the team that went with the two public vans.  We set a tarp down, unpacked our blankets, and sent the Land Rover ahead to try to go to the next small center to get some food.  Luckily, they came upon a drunk lady, who was on a motorcycle that had broken down.  They brought her to where we were sleeping and brought the soda and crackers that she had with her.  They then bartered with this drunk lady from Uganda at 2AM for sodas and crackers out in the middle of nowhere.  Only in Kenya can you have this experience.  I think it was around 4AM that our first rescue vehicle finally arrived.  The second came an hour later.  Thus, the remaining youth were on our way while Bones, a mechanic brought by the first rescue van, and a few youth remained behind with the two broken vehicles.  Eventually, the mechanic got one of the vans fixed and they towed the other the rest of the way.  I talked with Bones later that day when they finally arrived about 16 hours later.  He said they made it, but it was pretty frustrating because the twine that they were using to tow broke about 150 times.  By the way, throughout the whole ordeal, I did not hear one complaint from any of the youth.  I was very impressed.  The Kenyans have a proverb that says, “polepole mwisho hufika” “slowly slowly the end always arrives.”  Never has that saying been more true.

The most memorable moment for me was when we were praying together at the end of the trip before setting off for home from Kitale.  Everyone was exhausted and ready to be at home, but we still had two youth in the hospital, and Bones and a few other youth had not yet arrived with the broken down vans.  Just before the prayer, one of the youth began leading us in the praise song, He Knows My Name.  There was something so powerful in the words of the song, and they were so appropriate. 

I have a Maker, He formed my heart

Before even time began, my life was in His hands

I have a Father, He calls me His own

He’ll never leave me, no matter where I go

He knows my name, He knows my every thought

He sees each tear that falls, and He hears me when I call

The song brought tears to my eyes and reminded me about what missions is all about.  My Creator cares deeply about me.  He cares so much that He sent His son to die upon a cross for me.  “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” (1 John 3:16)  Our Creator also cares deeply about the people of Losam and every where else in the world for He commands us “to go and make disciples of all nations.”

I feel very blessed to have had the opportunity to work with and learn from many of the Kenyan pastors and churches of AGC (Africa Gospel Church).  They have so very little, yet they give so much.  I have learned much about the few verses that follow 1 John 3:16 through the examples of these dedicated disciples, and was able to see the fruits of their labors through the four mission trips over the past 5 years that the urban AGC youth have taken to Losam.  The youth have made a lasting impact.  There is now a local church, which the youth built on their first trip to Losam 5 years ago.  The church is thriving with over a 100 members, who attend regularly.  There is a Kenyan AGC missionary couple in Losam full time.  The church is beginning a school and the health of the community has been impacted in a profound way.  One Pokot man that we visited used to be one of the worst cow thieves in the area.  He was angry and a drunk.  Because of the ministries of the youth, he is now saved, an active member of the church, and is a leader in evangelizing to the rest of the community.  What a privilege it has been for me to work with these fine young men and women. ~ Jeremy

“People will always look at our lives before they listen to our words.” Richardson