High Prices to Pay

Today in Congo the temperatures will rise to about 90 or so degrees. Our winter is their summer. Women will leave the "norm" of their villages to attend the literacy center at Nkara mission campus. Nkara is located 450 miles due east of Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of Congo, which is neither democratic nor republic. Nevertheless, they will courageously leave the daily routine of going to the gardens at 3 or 4 a.m. where they plant or harvest crops of the cassava root, its spinach-like leaf, corn which is now in season, peanuts, squash, and other greens, some of which are more palatable than others, but eaten by all nationals in Congo. After all they are hungry people.

The cassava root, which is similar to wallpaper paste in texture, contains only one percent protein, but it swells the stomach, and sensing a full feeling is essential to people who have so little to consume before they go to bed. Its odor is similar to sweaty armpits, and for so little return a lot of work goes into serving "manioc" as it is called or luku each night to the family. My husband loves luku. He grew up with it and the smell doesn't phase him. Filling the kids' and husband's plates with this stuff is no easy task. First the root is planted. Harvesting takes 3 years, but then it is basically low maintenance for the next 5 years of reaping. The bark-covered starchy vegetable is dug up with a small hoe from the ground. The covering is peeled, revealing a white, turnip-shaped plant which contains arsenic. So. . . this means that it must be soaked in a local stream for 3 days for purification, after which it is dried on the roof of a lean-to, and then pounded into a floury powder. It is then stirred into a large black pot of boiling water and when enough has been added, the thick, gooey substance is rolled into a big ball and served to the kids and the man of the house. One phase or another is going on everyday in the average home of the Congolese woman. You can imagine the uproar if this process gets out of sync.

The women also leave the water getting to someone else as well as the care of their children, getting home in time to cook supper, and the drag of status quo villagers whose aspirations have many times long been abandoned by death, disease, or lack of opportunity. To break away from this rut is costly. No one likes public ridicule.

The ladies arrive on campus at 8 a.m. each morning Monday through Friday. If she is a second year student, she will begin her day discoving the alphabet so she can learn to read and write, and then take the following courses: Domestic Economy, Women of the Bible, Etiquette, Christian Family Living, Philippians, Colossians, Ephesians, I & II Timothy, and African Culture. On Fridays she will pursue knitting and crocheting, and sewing with a hand-operated Singer sewing machine from the early 20th century, which by the way is great for Congo because there is no electricity in the school or in the villages. First-year students basically have less of the same instruction so as not to overwhelm them. Many are not able to read or write their anything.

Third-year students vary in their subjects, adding The History of Congo, Hebrews, Health and Hygiene, Philemon, Romans, and French. Everyone once again gathers on Fridays to learn skills that will give them an opportunity in the future to sell their handmade goods. In the spring the "mikati" course is added. (mee . cot . ee) Remember the luku? Instead of rolling the luku into a big ball, the sticky paste is divided into smaller sections and rolled into little donut holes, dropped into hot palm fat, and sometimes rolled onto unrefinied sugar, making a delightful snack for any time of the day. It might seem a small accomplishment to some, but these donut holes are loved as much as ours, and remember there is no Dunkin Donuts in all of Congo! So any "shoppers" can purchase these tasty treats as they cruise on by. Mama's kitchen has become a little business center, and she can help support her family in a creative way.

Our Women's Literay Center opened in 2004, and until recently women had to fight the taunts and jeers of fellow villagers whose value of education was measured by their lack thereof. They bravely set aside the traditions of their culture to move up to a better place in life, though it was a costly move. They worked through the challenges of walking long distances daily, coming home to perhaps a family who did not appreciate having to wait and wait for supper unless she had older children who could go to her gardens and get water for her. She had to wrestle with the reality that attending school may not equate to having a job when she finished which would guarantee a better life style for her family. Was having the skills of reading and writing really worth it all?

These first 3 graduating classes were the pioneers in adventuring out of the mold of rut living, of breaking through the chains of darkness produced by ignorance, of the embarrassment of not being able to read notes sent home from school with their children and of having to rely on them to inform them of the contents of the note, of enduring the stabbing pain of ridicule and being called "stupid" for not being able to read or write, the shame of even being treated as a slave by their husbands and other men in the village, the immeasurable sadness of not being able to read the blessed Word of God to their children, and the despair that that hopelessness renders.

But God. . . God makes all things new. He is always doing a new thing. He not only redeems our souls but our situations, our spirits, our circumstances, no matter how downtrodden we and they may be.

Today, these women are respected and admired in their villages. They carry themselves with dignity because of the reassurance that God loves them. For the first time in their lives, the living, breathing Word of God can minister to them at their will, just by picking up the Book and reading it. The deep-seated peace that encapsulates their being is a treasure long sought after, and it comes across in their daily living. You can imagine the thrill our women profs have of leading many of them to the saving knowledge of Christ. We were all moved to tears recently at one such testimony.

So now, we are faced with an incredibly wonderful, delicious problem: Every village nearby wants its own literacy center!!! I don't know what that means. I don't know if that's God's plan. I am just relishing in the way God has lavished His love on these beautiful people who are born and die in obscurity from the world, but who are so near and dear to the heart of God. I love it when something works and it works well. We have a gold mine, and praise God, its true worth is being embraced by more and more lovely women of Congo. Thank you Jesus. You are so amazing, you take my breath away with your Greatness!

We would love to introduce some of these incredible heroines to you at the tea we are hosting on January 30 in Trenton, Michigan at the First Presbyterian Church, 2799 West Road at 1:30 p.m. Shawn Lantz is our featured speaker. She is the author of Congo Vignettes and Living with Unmet Desires - Exposing the Many Faces of Jealousy. Tickets are $10. Come celebrate their transformations with us. To make your reservations call 313 292 5445. Looking forward to seeing you there!