After a very fitful night’s sleep, I was up with the rooster’s crow the next morning. Having come from Abeche, where we were sweating both day and night, I didn’t think to pack a blanket, or even a sheet. So when the temperature dropped overnight I realized my mistake. Looking around for something to cover up with I found only my other clothes, so I positioned them over my body and tried not to move.
Packed and ready around 6AM, we headed out towards our next destination. It’s a town next to a refugee camp holding more than 30,000 refugees, mostly from the Darfur region of Sudan. The church has had a presence there since just before the refugees started pouring over the Chad-Sudan border, and they are in a good position to reach out to these refugees. For over a decade now the camp has been growing steadily, with no end in sight. The initial hope of returning quickly home has been squashed by the harsh realities of the conflict. They’re not going home any time soon. The initial surge of international concern has faded with the day to day difficulties of caring for so many displaced people. Many NGOs have long since gone home. Some remain to do the thankless work of providing food, sanitation, education, etc. to these seemingly God-forsaken people. May the God who heard the cries of the Israelite slaves in Egypt also hear the heart cry of these people and redeem them for His glory!
We arrived at our first destination around 8 AM, welcomed once again with a huge breakfast meal. Esh, or boule, a paste made of millet and formed into a large ball, was on the menu at each stop. This time it was complimented by a chicken sauce. Also a favorite for breakfast in Chad is a fried donut called “fongasso”. This is good for dipping in coffee or tea, or just eating as-is.
An example of “esh”, pictured here with a green sauce made from the leaves of the hibiscus plant.
Eating quickly and adding the missionary and his wife to our crew, we set out for a small town, village really, on the border with Sudan. The missionary, his family, and a few others are the only Christians in town. They have had some problems buying land there due to being Christians and Southerners. The missionary’s wife has been very sick, and they have struggled under the weight of discouragement. They haven’t received a visit from the church leadership in the entire 9 years that they’ve been there due to the lack of transportation. I imagine that I would have packed up long ago and headed back to familiar territory. They’ve persevered, and were refreshed by the visit from their brothers and sister. We gathered under a shelter made of sticks and straw and they discussed the situation there and how we could help. We drank tea (of course), prayed, sang and just chatted.
Spending time together talking, praying, and singing.
We went as a group to greet the government leadership in the town, to pay our respects and also to try and gain a hearing regarding the land issues. The local leader was friendly enough and and assured us that Christians and Muslims, we’re together and that he would see that the land issues are resolved fairly. This is a familiar refrain from local leaders in Chad, even if it doesn’t quite work like that in practice. Chad is officially secular in government, providing Christianity and Islam equal status under the law. But for Christians encroaching into Muslim areas, they often find fierce opposition in their attempts to buy land and build churches. Often they are relegated to the outskirts of town. But they can find encouragement in remembering that the one who sent them with His Great Commission also provided the Great Assurance, that he has been given authority over all things in Heaven and on Earth and that He will be with them always. We can’t fail, in the grand scheme of things, if by failure we mean that God’s will is thwarted. Hallelujah!
Some praise and worship time just before sending us off.
Unfortunately, due to time constraints, we had to leave again after just a few hours with these brothers and sisters. We packed up and retraced our route back the way we came, stopping for the night in the town near the refugee camp. After several hours of intense driving, constantly trying to choose the best path (meaning least likely to get us bogged down in sand), I was exhausted. After a quick bucket bath and a bit to eat, I crashed on the cot I had brought along. Having borrowed an extra blanket from the missions director, I slept soundly all night long. I would need to be well rested for our drive the following day, which would bring lots more rocky terrain and deep sand and we headed back west to our next destination.