Why Africa? My Story

Most people come to Africa to see the animals and never experience Africa - the people of Africa.

Why Africa?

My personal Story of Why I am in Africa

I was standAfrica gets into you, but most off it is the people such as these children in Uganda.ing in the garden of the house in Nairobi in which I was to live off and on for a few years. It was still early morning and I watched the night turn to dawn. I heard Africa awaken with all of its sounds, smells and sights. There was a sense of awe about it all and I did not know what the next few years would hold, but I knew that my being there was not just an accident but a plan laid out for me, some would call it providence. I would later call it a finding time, a time where the eyes of my heart were opened to find the real me.

A few hours later I was being taken to a slum in Nairobi. I could not believe what I saw. Feelings of all kinds passed over my heart. I felt something beyond me. I felt something that was new to me and had not been there for a season in life. I felt compassion.

As I viewed the faces of people passing me. I felt their pain, sensed their struggles. I saw children in rags and yet smiling - men with faces marred by the events of struggling in life - women carrying the burden of keeping families alive.

My mind flashed back to something I had read and used as an illustration in a lecture I gave; yet as my eyes saw the reality of suffering, of pain, of agony of heart I realized fully that this was not meant to be a cute and clever illustration to make me sound caring but it was a challenge to my soul and heart.

I was hungry and you formed a humanities club to discuss my hunger. Thank you.

I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel to pray for my release. Nice.

I was naked and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance. What good did that do?

I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health. But I needed you.

I was homeless and you preached to me of the shelter of the love of God. I wish you had taken me home.

I was lonely and you left me alone to pray for me. Why didn't you stay?

You seem so holy, so close to God; but I am still very hungry, lonely, cold, and still in pain. Does it matter?

Anonymous

During the next few days I saw suffering, misery, starvation, pain, agony, sickness, disease, death, just a foretaste what I was to see during my years in Africa, but enough to do a work in my heart.

A few days later I stood on a small red clay path in a slum in Kampala, Uganda. I had ventured there just to get a sense of the life in place like that. As I was preparing to head back to my vehicle, a young woman with two children approached me. Her face looked in pain, a sense of frustration; even a tinge of anger was visible to me.

"No one cares" - blurted out of her mouth. "These are my children." I looked down a boy and girl about three and five years. The looked neatly dressed and were well groomed. I could tell that the mother had made a few sacrifices to get them that way.

Her speaking to me again jarred my thoughts. "I have gone everywhere looking for help, to the government, to the churches, to "UNICEF", to "Save the Children" and other places but no one will help?"

I asked her why she needed help and with tears streaming down her face she told me of how she had been married and her husband had been unfaithful and contracted AIDS, and now she had it and was dying. There was no one to take care of her children and she needed help. She told me that no one cared, no one was there to do something about or for her children.

My heart was touched. I felt something within me. I felt that I was to do something here. That the universe had revealed a need to me and I was to be part of the solution, I was part of her answer. I not only saw the need. I knew that I also would find the answer inHere I am in slum over 16 years later - still the same feelings the same way; that whenever we face a problem, wherever we come across a need we are also given the power and all that is needed to do something about it.

Most of us - feel so helpless - so impotent to change our world and yet divinity has imparted to us a portion that is enough to meet any need we might face. Throughout my years in Africa I became keenly aware that I had been empowered to face anything, any situation, any problem as an opportunity for the gifting in me to be released and to create a miracle in the midst of hopelessness.

And yet sadly, we settle for a portion way less than our potential as we go through life, not realizing what has been given to us, not realizing of what has been deposited in us for a time that we are facing today. That the problems we are facing are an opportunity, that we are not just a dimly burning wick trying to survive in life, but in us are resident all the powers of the universe and all we have to do is risk it.

The problem is that most of us never put to test what is in us, we are like the person who at the end of his or her days comes to God like in the account I found by anonymous writer below.

He saw people love each other. And he saw that all love made strenuous demands on the lovers. He saw love requires sacrifice and self-denial. He saw love produce arguments and anguish. And he decided that it cost too much. And he decided not too diminish his life with love.

He saw people strive for distant and hazy goals. He saw men strive for success, women strive for high, high ideals. And he saw that the striving was frequently mixed with disappointment. And he saw strong men fail. He saw it force people into pettiness. He saw those who succeeded were sometimes those who had not earned success. And he decided that it cost too much. He decided not to soil his life with striving.

He saw people serving others. He saw men give money to the poor and helpless. And he saw that the more they served, the faster the need grew. He saw ungrateful receivers turn on their serving friends. He decided not to soil his life with serving.

And when he died, he walked up to God and presented him with his life. Undiminished, unmarred, and unsoiled, his life was clean from the filth of the world, and he presented it proudly saying, "This is my life." And the great God said, "What life?"


Africa, showed me something about myself.  It showed that I could and was enabled to make a difference. That I could care, become aware of a world beyond my own, have the inner compassion move me to action, and have the gifts and power to do make a difference in the lives of others.

The dear woman I met on the path in the slum of Kampala told me that no one cared? She has died since. Her children are in a home and school I managed. She was wrong. There are people that care and have the compassion, the power to do something about the need and have been divinely equipped to do so.

The result has been that I now know, that I am not just a person with a soft heart, but a person equipped to make a difference. To impart and give resources that are beyond my natural self. That I am not simply here to live a decent life, but to make an impact in the world in which I live.

Never will I forget an encounter in the slum of Kampala when I saw things not just as they were but as they could be, and the most amazing thing was - I could be part of the solution.

 

Leaving Africa:

I was mumbling underneath my breath something about accursed roads, corruption and lack of asphalt as my Toyota Hilux Truck headed north road for Lira. Many times had I taken this route before, but there was something different about this trip. It would be my last one for some time to come, or even forever.

I had decided to leave Africa, resign my position and go back home. People asked my I was leaving here when I seemed to be at home here. There A Ugandan Village along my journey.were many reasons, from being robbed, held prisoner one too many times, malaria, the organization I represented. The list seemed endless. I wanted to go home. I did not even know where home was, but I felt that the door had closed for me here. For some time I had felt what I call divine discontentment, a restlessness of spirit, a yearning. Yet at the same there was an apprehension in me about the future, about what I would do for a living, or where I would live.

I asked myself things like "could I live a normal life?" "Could I adjust to a Western civilization that had grown distant to me?" "Could I enter the dog eat dog mentality business world?" There were simply so many things going on in my head. I also felt a deep need for a relationship with a woman I could relate to, who would understand my heart. I yearned for the friendship with a soul mate with whose heart mine could be knitted together with. I wanted to be near my children and yet I questioned whether this was the right move for me. After all Africa had been to me my finding place, it had been my Jerusalem, my Tibet, my Mecca, my Ganges River. It had been the place where I found my spirituality anew. Where joy came once again after a night of loss and pain. The place where I found myself, and came home, but I still had things floating around in my head that needed a resolve as to my future, my life back in America.

Just then Francis Olero, and old friend and to whose village we were headed, broke in and said "it is not far from here." I smiled, since if anyone in Africa tells you it is not far, expect to go another half day. However in just a few minutes we entered his village just south of Lira, Uganda. After a few turns we made it down a small path to his grandmothers house. "We are here my friend, we are at my home."

Home was a small house made of mud, with an awning under which were couple of ancient chairs, that may have never seen any better days. Just then Grandmother appeared in the doorway. She seemed ancient for Ugandan standards since life expectancy was only about 40 years. We jumped out of the truck and were welcomed with the typical greeting "you are most welcome." I smiled at this old woman who had seen much in her life, who had experienced pain, life, love, wars and death and yet she seemed to have an inner determination to live in spite of the odds.

Even though it was early in the morning, as was customary I was expected to buy beer and soda for all, and the number had increased because there was this white man who had come to visit.

I took out my laptop computer and played some multimedia stuff for the kids who had gathered and they were simply amazed at this box with moving pictures on it.

Grandma had gone back inside and soon appeared again with a cup which she handed to me. Take this Muzungu and drink it. It is Lira Lira. Lira Lira I had heard about and especially tales about its strength. I took a swallow and my throat strangely burned. A burn that lasted for some time. I looked up at her and we both smiled and she said, "You like Lira Lira." Yes, I do like it. She then smiled at me in a knowing manner, laughingly asking. "Too strong for you, white man?" She could tell by my facial expression that this was certainly something out of the normal for me. What was to follow was even more so.

The drinks arrived, food came out and we just started talking and laughing in the

African fashion of family. Where every person feels welcomed, where you can rest and stay, enjoying the shared life.

Sitting there I noticed some headstones in the garden area and I walked over and began to read the inscriptions on them. Grandma came over, stood beside me and began to tell as to who was buried where.

She pointed to the largest marker and said "that is my son, and he has gone home." "You are going home too." I told her that I was leaving tomorrow and she smiled and said, "I know, you will your way home." There was long silence between us as I pondered the words of this woman who seemed to know so much.

She turned to me and looked into my eyes saying "open your hand, what is there?" I slowly opened my hands and said "nothing." After another long pause she said "all things have been given to you, all things have been prepared for you to go home. Everything that you need is in your hand." Then she walked away leaving me with all kinds of thoughts of things that I knew in part and I wanted it so much in its fullness.

I walked away from the house, the garden and sat under a large tree. It was then that it hit me. She had not been referring to anything physical. She was addressing the issues of my heart. The gifts that I had been given and had shelved. She was talking about the presence of God in life and that there was nothing that could prevent me from arriving home, to be at peace with myself, to look within and find the treasures that had been deposited within me.

On the plane I realized that home was not a place, a space, but that home was within me. Home was the process of putting to use all that been given to me.

Home did not turn out like I thought. It has been better and I find that home is getting closer.

Back in Africa:  Home, for me seems to be Africa, and Uganda in particular.  Here I seem to have an inner place, because I am meant to be here.  There are frustrations that come with the place, there is a saying here, "TIA" simply meaning "This is Africa."  I live in Kampala, Uganda in a place that most westerners would not.  A two room apartment, with an outside kitchen, no sink there, you use a jerry can for water.  I have a living room, a bedroom, an African tiled Bathroom that is tiled, the sink fell down yesterday, because it had been fastened to the walls with wooden dowels that rotted over time...it simply fell, today it will be fixed, the landlord does not pay for it, I do, but it was a mere 28 dollars to do so.  I do have a shower, cold that is, and best of all there is a gate and I can park inside the compound.

The other place I lived in before was emptied of things while I was sleeping and some chemical used to spray the room.  The new cell phone, quit after one week, is in repair for second time...most anything can be fixed, even a lousy K-razor phone by Motorola who has made a lousy phone in this model. I have a borrowed computer, a new camera, no new TV yet. 

Why here, why Africa, the answer is simple.  In spite of the stuff that has happened to me in recent time, this morning my back-up external hard drive quit...but in spite of it all...there is something about this place with its ever-red mud and dust, with its terrible traffic and corruption...there is a simplicity of life, no schedule, no time boundaries, if you can adjust, there is an inner liberty that comes and you start enjoying the things that as a westerner may frustrate you at first.  Africa is a place that you either love or hate...it is a place where you can learn to enjoy the journey in spite of..."TIA"...jon

 

The Birth of a Dream

Years ago I came across a brochure with two people on the cover - running across a beach with white sand, blue skies above - and shimmering ocean behind them - the caption stated - "Come and see the World." As I opened the brochure, it showed a homeless person sitting on a sidewalk, an African child starving - and other pictures that touched my heart and soul.

It was about that same time, or soon thereafter that events in my life opened a door of opportunity for me to go to Africa and work with a Humanitarian Relief and Development Organization. I knew that this was the right thing and that it was meant as part of my development and my journey.

As a young boy, I spent a lot of time reading, dreaming - I used to go off into the forest after school near the castle on the hill of my town in Germany and sit there by a fire and dream - I had a hero that was not a soldier, not a warrior, not a superman, but a Doctor who also played the organ. His name was Albert Schweitzer. A German man from an area that is now France, but used to be part of Germany. He started a hospital in a place called Lambarene; later on he would win a Nobel Prize for his work and efforts. It was then I knew I would wind up some day in Africa, but never realized it would be so many years later, but then God never forgets the dreams and visions he imparts to the heart of the young and I am thankful for it...jon

The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in,
that wind that lets us live.
Breathe before it's gone.
Rumi

Below you will find thoughts and observations of my time in Africa.  They reflect both an inner and outer journey.  May they lead you on your own personal one, wherever that may be. Click on the picture link and enjoy the journey.

Africa-The Inner Journey...

Reflections of my ongoing African Journey

Africa One Man's JourneyAfrica - One Man's Journey:  Places, people, events that deeply touch our hearts. When you go on a journey there is something you see with your eyes, hear with your ears and even smell.  Here is my journey in Africa both the inner and outer reflections. 

Africa - Reflection on the JourneyAfrica - Reflections on the Journey:  Stories and thoughts of inner reflections in Africa.  As we travel along, things from our past illuminate the present.  Here you find some thoughts shaped in Africa.

Acceptance - Meeting a leper in AfricaAcceptance:  An encounter with a leper.  Acceptance is something we all crave.  To be loved and accepted means safety for us, space where we can simply be who we were meant to be.

African Carving - The shaping of the soulAfrican Carvings - The Shaping of the soul:  Events tend to mold and shape us.  The events of life shape us into who we are.  Here a carver of of soapstone teaches me about the shaping of the soul, the making of character.  In some ways it is easier to shape a piece of soapstone than it is to shape a human being.

African MeditationAfrican Meditation:  Thoughts formed and shaped in Africa.  Places in one's life can evoke things within.  Africa has done that in my life. A time of inner reflection.  There is more to a trip to Africa, than the magnificent Rift Valley, Lake Victoria, the Mountain Gorillas, there is that time where you sit somewhere on a balcony in Africa overlooking  a lake, a river, quietly you gaze into the African night and reflect.

African Night SoundsAfrican Night Sounds:  African Nights are filled with sounds that you never forget.  They stick with you and living in Africa they become a familiar sound, they even become welcome.  In a city there is hardly ever total silence and even in the wilderness there are the sounds of the night that do something deep within.

Messengers sent to usMessengers Sent to us:  We don't meet people by accident, often they are messengers and to our surprise they impart to us exactly what we need at that moment in times.  The key is the one who is receiving the messenger to recognize that the message is for us. 

Easter in Africa - Reflections:  Some thoughts about hollow chocolate bunnies and a fulfilled life instead of a hollow life that is simply empty.  There are not many chocolate bunny treats here in Africa, instead Easter for most Africans is a celebration of life.

Celebrations with an African Twist:  Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years in Africa.  Sometimes finding a turkey is a bit tough but there is always a reason to celebrate in Africa. 

Seasons of LifeSeasons of Life:  Lessons learned along the way.  As you get older, one of my observations is...that you either get bitter of better. There are new temptations along the way.

My African Puzzle RingMy African Puzzle Ring: How do you put a puzzle ring back together?  How do you put life back together.  Some observations as I attempted to put my puzzle ring back together.

Beauty of the HeartBeauty of the Heart:  This is about inner and outer beauty, while looking at the Kaloli Bird (Marabou Stork).  The stork is quite ugly, at least I think so, but when you see them soaring over Kampala city, there is a grace and beauty to them, you simply have to see it.

Sitting on the River NileSitting on the Nile River:  To some almost sacred, the Nile, a source of water for many, a place to fish for a livelihood, for some such as myself, a place to sit and reflect as the water flows by.

One Question asked - Who are you?One Question asked -Who are you?:  As I landed in Kigali Rwanda I was questioned and asked "Who are you?  It has stuck with me...who am I?  A human doing or Human Being?

Different Paths - Similar HeartsTwo Men - Different paths - Similar Hearts:  Reflections early in the morning as the sun rises awakening to the call to prayer in Uganda.

African SolitudeAfrican Solitude - Reflections of the Soul:  The stillness outside of us bringing stillness within.  To be still for some is a labor, we love sounds, instead of the simple sound from within, the sound of silence.

This year Experience Africa-Discover one of its Pearls-The Mountain Gorillas of of Uganda.

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Why Africa?  My Story

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