Congo Kinshasa: The Wrong Trousers!

I bought the suit in Asda 6 years ago; it wasn’t expensive, but it ‘would do’ if I needed to wear a suit. I never did really. In the sweltering, steamy jungle a t-shirt was as much as I could usually bear.  Eventually, I put it in my bag and took it from Kinshasa to Basankusu. Then I found a reason to wear it. The Bishop of Basankusu was going to celebrate his Silver Jubilee as a bishop!

Judith arrived and told me to give her the suit. 

“My cousin will iron it,” she smiled. I knew that to offer to do it myself wasn’t an option.

A charcoal iron
like the one used

As I got ready for what I knew would be a very long mass at Basankusu Cathedral, perhaps 4 hours, I heard a scraping noise outside. I went to find out what it was.

Judith had bought a brand new charcoal iron – the type we see in museums, normally from Victorian times. You fill it with hot, glowing charcoal to make it hot.

Her cousin was scraping it on the concrete stand around our well. 

“It’s too smooth,” he beamed. “I need to make it a bit rough to iron properly.” I started to lose confidence in the whole process. 

“I’m sure they made it smooth for a reason,” I explained, as he continued to remove the shiny surface – but to no avail.

About 20 minutes later, Judith popped her head in and asked if the suit only had one pair of trousers. I knew something must have gone wrong. She’d seen that I had another pair, yes, it was true that they weren’t part of the suit, but in her opinion, were much nicer. 

“No,” I said. “A suit should have the same trousers that came with it.”

“Well there’s been a little accident,” she offered sheepishly. 

She showed me the trousers. There was a hole, the size of an iron, completely through one leg of them!

We all had a great day, including the reception at the bishop’s house. And, do you know what, nobody even noticed that I was wearing the wrong trousers!

Francis wearing the wrong trousers
after the bishop's celebration! 

I’m back in Basankusu, once again. We’ve had 2 months support from Doctors Without Borders, an international group a bit like the Red Cross, but now they’ve gone.

Our numbers will build up again in the next couple of months. Please pray for my work with malnourished children. I rely on donations – so please don’t forget to include them as well.

My visa problem isn’t completely resolved yet, I’m still struggling with that – but at least I remembered to pack my suit again, this time.