Congo Kinshasa: Happy New Shoes!

 

“What will 2023 bring us?” I asked Judith. “Never mind that,” replied Judith,  ”the owner of the main centre wants his rent! Put your walking shoes on, withdraw some money from Huang’s store and take it to the centre. After two days of non-stop rain, the roads are extremely muddy.” In 2014, I invested in a pair of shoes. After wearing flip-flops, prising my feet into good supportive shoes felt uplifting, and would carry me across the bumps and crevices of the eroded dirt tracks.

My shoe when it was new!

Huang’s shop is about a mile away. The sun was out now and it was getting hot. I took the money and set out to our feeding centre. It was 2 miles uphill and the sun was now relentless. Sweat trickled into my t-shirt, but my shoes held the muddy road well.

At the centre, I chatted with parents of the few resident children there. I gave Judith’s sister the rent, tightened my shoelaces and strode out towards our house.

Francis Hannaway
with Judith's sister, Leticia

The roads are always full of people: women carrying huge baskets of firewood, school children in their smart uniforms, men pushing handcarts full of bricks. People said hello, but I didn’t want to break my step. A quick “Hello!” in reply and I kept going.

Perhaps Judith will have a cold drink for me when I get in, I thought. I saw our house ahead and, curiously, heard my steps being echoed. With every step I took, it was as if something was tapping underneath one shoe.

Judith greeted me at the door, but there was no cold drink.”Because of the 2 days rain, I’ve got no charge in my phone, neither have you. Go to the Catholic Procure and get Fr. Christiantus to charge them.” I showed her my shoe. Part of the heel was detached; it was only a bit, I’ll buy some glue. Off I went – it’s only a 10 minute walk. Dark clouds rapidly appeared in response to the baking heat, and large spots of warm rain started to fall – and something else. This time like someone clapping in time to my steps! I looked down at my other shoe – the whole of the underside of the shoe was slapping the bottom of my foot!

Fr Christiantus Nna

Fr. Christiantus laughed and gave me a pair of house slippers and a lift home.

“During 2023, I’d like to buy some new shoes!” I told Judith, on arriving.

“Never mind that,” she said, “ I’ve made a list of what we need …” And with that she gave me a list of everything that’s worn out over 8 years of running the centre: cooking pots, spoons , plates, cups, buckets …

So, here’s hoping our New Year gets off to a great renewal! Happy New Year to you all!

Congo Kinshasa: Tiny Tim at the malnutrition centre

 

It always amazes me how early advertising for Christmas begins, and that’s long before Advent has even started. Advent is when we take stock of how we live, in preparation for the Nativity of Christ. Even so, we’re already buying presents and decorating our homes. We might start to watch some classic films, like A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens … and perhaps that helps us in our reflection.

Judith and Francis Hannaway

In the story, set in snowbound Victorian England, Ebenezer Scrooge is a character we’d like not to be associated with.  But we might be left feeling uncomfortable in recognising some aspects of our own selfishness. The Ghost of Christmas Present shows Bob Cratchit and family trying to enjoy Christmas. Tiny Tim, a very frail child, is with them. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come shows a different scene. Tiny Tim has passed away. Scrooge is urged to change his ways, to improve his life by loving his neighbour, in this case, the family of his underpaid worker, Bob Cratchit.

As it happens, here in the Congo, at the malnutrition centre, we accepted a little boy called Tim, Timothé in French, and yes, he was tiny. All the children are frail, even the plump ones  because of the swelling. As we’re always short of food stock, Judith asked me to make a special push for funds.

“I’ve heard that during Advent people in Europe like to buy presents,” she smiled. “I’m sure people will support Timothé’s treatment.”  She wiped her hands on her apron after stirring a huge pan of beans, sweat from the midday sun glistening on her forehead. The heat in the rainforest is relentless, even in December.

Our “Tiny Tim” was very underweight. He didn’t walk with a crutch like in the story, but had difficulty standing. His swollen feet were painful and his left eye was almost closed because his face was also swollen.

I took some photos of him with his family to post on social media. Two months treatment on our feeding programme, including medicines, would cost around £250, Not only that, we also have another 30 ‘Tiny Tims’ at the centre. Sadly, the spectre of Christmas Yet to Come is only too real here; we’ve lost 5 children since September. There have been certain times when we’ve become dangerously close to running out of food to feed the children, as well.

“Christmas shopping in Hull, York, Bridlington and Middlesbrough is in full flow,” I told her. “It’ll be difficult to distract them from that!”

“Like Ebenezer Scrooge,” she continued, “he spent time in reflection. He bought Tiny Tim and his family a turkey. He got his life in order.”

Scrooge was left with a choice, his life wouldn’t continue to be just about himself, but it would include some social action. What better way to prepare ourselves for the coming of Christmas!

Wishing you all a peaceful and reflective Advent – from Francis and Judith.

In the words of Tiny Tim, “God Bless us everyone!”

 

Congo Kinshasa: Judith's Flight

I finally had a short break in Middlesbrough, and when I got back to Kinshasa, Judith was keen to get back to Basankusu, to buy more stock and survey the work at the centre. I had to stay in Kinshasa for a few weeks to get another 3-month stamp in my passport. Judith called a few contacts and secured a place on the 16-seater plane going to Basankusu’s palm-oil plantation. Mentioning her headteacher father’s name was enough to secure a seat. The plane would go directly to Basankusu. 

Judith Hannaway

Then she told me that she was giving away the seat. “Don’t worry,” she smiled, “I’m giving it to the General Councillor for Mill Hill Missionaries – he’s just arrived for a visit. They’re going to get me on another plane the following day!” 

Fr Philip Adede MHM, was pressed for time; he needed to get to Basankusu in a hurry. And so off he went. Judith got a call the day Philip went – “your new flight has been cancelled”. Now, she was stuck. Fr Patrick Lonkoy MHM had welcomed Fr Philip, but, having also been left behind, would now find another flight with Judith. 

Eating in a Lebanese restaurant the evening before
Fr Philip's (2nd from left) flight to Basankusu

They arranged a flight the following morning, Saturday, at 6 am. It would take them to Mbandaka. We often fly to Mbandaka; it’s at the point where the Equator crosses the Congo River. After that, to get to Basankusu, it’s necessary to travel by river for 36 hours Still half asleep, they both arrived at Kinshasa Airport. At about 10 am the flight was cancelled – but not to worry, it would go the next day. Judith’s brother lived nearby, so she stayed there. 

The next morning they were told – “0h, we don’t fly on Sundays!” While all this was going on, there was a national fuel shortage – not just for cars, but also aviation fuel. Perhaps that was the problem. Monday’s flight was postponed to Tuesday. People were starting to get angry, not least of which was Judith. Tuesday’s flight was postponed till Wednesday. 

Fr Gregoire, a Basankusu priest, arrived to take a flight on Wednesday. That flight also didn’t go. Fr Patrick was starting to panic. “Fr Philip is returning via Mbandaka – I need to be there to help him.” He asked about another flight, and, after paying something extra, was on his way. 

Fr Gregoire and Judith reluctantly reclaimed their cases and went back to Kinshasa. They were eventually offered a place on Saturday morning, a full week after the first attempt. There were to be 2 flights. Fr Gregoire was placed on the first. Judith was left again. The other passengers got very angry, and started banging on the counter. They pushed forward and there were scuffles with the airline staff. People tried to climb over the counter to see the manager. The police came in! It was chaos. The flight was cancelled. 

The 16-seter plane which took Fr Philip
directly to Basankusu

We don’t know if the fuel shortage was still a factor; there’d also been torrential rain in Mbandaka. But it was more likely to be the fact that the passengers had become a safety risk. 

Sunday morning, Judith finally flew to Mbandaka. Fr Philip and Fr Patrick were able to return on the same plane. Fr Gregoire was waiting for Judith – and on Monday morning they set off for Basankusu by river, arriving, exhausted, early Wednesday morning.