Different worlds

I've taken to walking with Fraser to the library when he goes to work at eight in the morning and then continuing round the campus to get a bit of exercise.  In Scotland I did a lot of walking but it's more difficult here.  By 9am it's often too hot to do anything energetic and I have to take the car to get around Jos.

On Monday we arrived at the library when the cleaner was coming out.  She immediately greeted us and reached to take Fraser's laptop, despite his protestations and much to his surprise.  She doesn't usually do that.
Today we walked past an old man (retired accountant) tying up his goats.  We exchanged greetings then he asked why I wasn't carrying my oga's (Hausa term of respect for a superior) laptop and bag of books.  I think they're trying to tell me something. I don't know if Fraser will get sympathy for having a wife who doesn't realise that her place is to carry his belongings (preferably several paces behind him) or if they think him weak for not beating me into submission.

As in many developing nations in a lot of circles women are not considered equal to men although they do most of the work.  Even in the church men who call themselves Christian and even pastors and elders beat their wives.  Several of the books I worked on for ACTS dealt with this problem but it's spread throughout society, a cultural rather than religious problem.
We were talking about the treatment of women in the BRICC office earlier this week.  One of the women expressed her approval that more girls were being educated.  That's the key: with education women can see they are not inferior to men and I hope will realise that they do not have to accept the treatment and attitudes too often doled out to them.

Kids

 

Yesterday Toby was expressing great interest in something in our neighbour's garden so, trying to avoid trouble, I wandered over to have a look.  He was trying to climb over the fence to join K9 in his examination of one of the smallest kids I've ever seen, tiny and fluffy but with a voice out of all proportion to its size.  As K9 has been known to snack on such delicacies I decided that extraction was the best course of action and ended up bringing it across to our house. 
There was no mother goat in sight nor hearing but under a tree in the garden to our other side was what must have been the kid's brother, even more vociferous than my new little friend.  With Ruth's enthusiastic encouragement I collected him too.  We'd been hearing kids crying throughout the night and guessed that the mother had given birth then been frightened away by one of the many dogs that roam around the place as the kids couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours old.
What do you do with teeny tiny kids crying for their mother?   We tried feeding them milk from a teaspoon and they did take a little but things really took off once we borrowed a baby's bottle from a friend.  Meanwhile, Toby hadn't lost interest.  He was licking them even before they'd spilt milk all over themselves.  I think he wanted to adopt them too, they certainly started following him around.
In the end conscience got the better of me and I made enquiries in the police barracks as to whether anyone was expecting kids and hadn't got any.  One woman had been complaining to friends that her goat had gone out pregnant and come back with neither bump nor offspring.  I no longer had an excuse to keep "Bubble" and "Squeak" (yes, we'd already given them names: the boy was Squeak as he was by far the noisier). They were taken away amidst rejoicing but for Ruth and me, though we'd only cared for them a couple of hours, they left quite a gap.

Not all the creatures I encounter are as sweet as baby goats but at least if they die on the doorstep the ants will clear up.

First sterilise your veggies....

Although I have seen some turkeys wandering around Jos we relied on Danjuma the pork man to supply our Christmas dinner.  He came round to the house with his plastic bags and pulled out a huge haunch of free-range pork which presumably had been running around the day before.  It looked great but it wasn't until Christmas Eve that I discovered it was too big to fit into the pressure cooker.  (I prefer to pressure cook meat as hygiene standards are not great and it makes me feel that any nasties should've been killed off).  Suddenly a 4kg joint didn't seem such a good idea but 7 hours of long, slow cooking did the trick.

That was one problem solved.  Next I wandered round the garden collecting whatever green things I could find.  We're in the middle of the dry season so most things are now brown but I managed to gather enough of the surviving cabbage, leeks and beetroot.  In the UK all I'd have to do next would be wash off the soil and put them away until it was time to cook.  In Nigeria I wash off the soil, soak them in Milton sterilising solution for 15 minutes to kill off any typhoid or other bugs that might be lurking and then rise again in filtered water.  Extra hassle but I'm not confident we've built up enough immunity to cut it out yet.

We had friends from TCNN joining us for lunch and I was praying that the power would last.  Part of the (sticky toffee) pudding plan involved our newly purchased microwave and I didn't want to have to go to plan B.  It's always a good morning when we wake up to electricity.  Our Christmas Day in that respect was better than for some people in Britain.  We had power until 6pm when it went off until Boxing Day afternoon but at least we always have our candles ready.

I hope you all had a good Christmas.  It's so amazing to remember that the almighty, all-creating, all-knowing God sent his Son to be born as a human as part of the great plan to set humanity free from slavery and destruction.  Good food and time with family and friends are great but that God's love for us is so overwhelming is more wonderful still.

Christmas

It takes a while to get used to the fact that it's nearly Christmas.  The days are sunny and get warm by the afternoon although we have been shivering in strong winds and temperatures as low as 12 degrees in the mornings and evenings.  I didn't think I'd be looking around for jumpers in Nigeria.  The roadside sellers have started wearing Santa hats, shops and restaurants are decorated with artificial trees and tinsel and the school had a service of nine lessons and carols last Sunday so slowly it's beginning to sink in that it'll be Christmas day next week.

Here's something that our Scottish church put on its newsletter last week.  You may have seen it before but it's worth thinking about.

Santa lives at the North Pole,

JESUS is everywhere.

Santa rides in a sleigh,

JESUS rides on the wind and walks on the water.

Santa comes but once a year,

JESUS is an ever present help.

Santa fills your stockings with goodies,

JESUS supplies all your needs.

Santa comes down your chimney uninvited,

JESUS stands at your door and knocks.. and then enters your heart.

You have to stand in line to see Santa,

JESUS is as close as the mention of His name.

Santa lets you sit on his lap,

JESUS lets you rest in His arms.

Santa doesn't know your name, all he can say is "Hello little boy/girl, what's your name?"

JESUS knew your name before you did. Not only does He know your name, He knows your address too. He knows your history and future and He even knows how many hairs are on your head.

Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly,

JESUS has a heart full of love.

All Santa can offer is the laughter of: HO HO HO,

JESUS offers present help, hope for the future and the certainty of His kingdom.

Santa says "You better not cry!"

JESUS says "Cast all your cares on me for I care for you."

Santa's little helpers make toys,

JESUS makes new lives, mends wounded hearts, repairs broken homes and builds mansions.

Santa may make you chuckle but,

JESUS gives you joy that is your strength.

While Santa puts gifts under your tree,

JESUS became the greatest gift and died on the tree.

It's obvious there is really no comparison. Jesus the Son of God entering this world, born into time to be both Saviour and Lord is WHO and what Christmas is all about.

Acts 4:12, Matthew 1:21

Cosmetology Graduation

One of the customs at special events in Nigeria is for the main party to have clothes made up in the same material.  At weddings you can tell those who are closely related or good friends with the main participants as they're all dressed in the "wedding cloth".   This doesn't mean they all look alike as the styles vary enormously but they're showing their connection with each other in a very clear way.  At the BRICC ladies graduation yesterday it was heartwarming to see all the students and some of their friends dressed in the special cloth they'd bought for the occasion. 

As usual the ladies' graduation was something to behold: each time it gets better.  They'd decorated the courtyard as if for a wedding and the excitement in the air was palpable.  Veronica the co-ordinator gave another inspiring speech to her students.  "Nelson Mandela was a great man not because he spent 27 years in prison but because he forgave his enemies.  Teach

Veronica & Naomi

[others] the love, the unity.  Go out and multiply" what you've learned in BRICC.  She was followed by Naomi her deputy and then most of the students got up and spoke about how much they've learned (and not just about how to make creams, body scrubs and handwash).  The most important lessons they'll take from their 12 week course are those of love and friendship with women they'd not even have spoken to before.
For most of these women the BRICC graduation is the only one they've had.  Another custom at special events here is to have souvenir bags or notebooks printed with the names and photos of the main people.  It was touching to see the plastic bags that Aishat's mother had provided for her daughter's graduation.  Aishat's husband Hussein is the man who was enabled to walk again by a BRICC physiotherapist after he'd given up hope of being healed after a motor accident.  They were having trouble earning money so instead of giving handouts (which BRICC doesn't and can't do anyway) we enrolled Aishat into the ladies' skills programme so she can make a living and still be available to care for her husband.  In the skills programme and the women's literacy classes she's been one of the most diligent, capable and motiated students.  See the video of his story at www.briccjos.com (click on "Film").

The cake made by one of the students summed it up: they are stars.

This is life in Nigeria note: as I was finishing this post there was a commotion at the gate.  Sunday who works in the library had arrived on his bicycle with a chicken in a black carrier bag that Fraser had ordered.  The dogs were naturally very interested so I had to go out and intercept it.  Thankfully Sunday had already dressed it but by the temperature it had still been running around earlier this morning.  Now it's safely put away and I can get this finished.

Safety net

Living in Nigeria is certainly helping me to appreciate many of the things I take for granted in the UK.  Things we regard as basics are by no means reliable here.  Electricity comes and goes (at the time of writing it's been off for over 12 hours and I've no idea when/if it'll come back today).  Mains water is turned on and off to no pattern I've been able to discern and door to door rubbish collections just don't exist.  There's no AA or RAC and if you have a medical emergency you can't call for an ambulance but have to find your own way in to the hospital.  In some ways this is good as it's teaching us to rely on God for ordinary things far more than we ever had to in the UK and seeing the results of prayer is exciting and reassuring.

I was praying hard on Friday driving back from Jos as the temperature gauge in the car rose off the scale, hoping that it was merely a faulty connection (there are a few).  It was when I stopped at a junction and saw copious amounts of steam/smoke rising from the bonnet that I realised that perhaps the gauge was accurate and I ought to do something about it.  Thankfully there was a fuel station right beside me so I pulled in and got out of the car quickly.  A few days before I'd said to James and Ruth that we should check if the fire extinguisher was working.  Here was my chance.

If you ever want to see a group of workmen move quickly try driving up with steam pouring out of the bonnet.  They all leapt up, gesticulating wildly, pointing out the obvious (as if I hadn't noticed) and to my relief taking charge, wielding the extinguisher (which did work) and opening the bonnet.  Thankfully there was neither smoke nor flames only steam shooting out of holes in a pipe but there was no way I'd be able to take the car the rest of the way home that night.
My rescuers pushed the car to a place where it would be safe under the floodlights for the night and found me a public transport vehicle (7-seater van that takes about 14) which would take me to where I could get a keke back to TCNN.  In some ways I was glad there was only just room to squeeze me and another passenger into the van as it meant we were wedged in too tightly to roll around as we swung round corners.  It's not a method of transport I would recommend for long journeys as any padding on the seats had disappeared a long time ago.  My first journey on a keke was more fun although there were times I thought we'd tip over as we negotiated large holes in the road.  Going across the railway was a bit hairy too but I got home safely.  Be thankful that public transport in Britain doesn't feel quite so much like taking your life in your hands.
The next day Fraser went back to collect the car and nursed it gently home where it's now sitting waiting for a mechanic.

Every week we put safety in travel on our prayer requests and there have been many incidents which could have been far far worse than they were.  I am thankful there was a safe place to stop and people to help, that James and Ruth weren't with me in the car, that nothing happened to it overnight and that the mechanic has promised to come out to assess the damage this morning.  We're praying that it can be fixed today as life will be very difficult without a car to take me into BRICC in Jos and bring James and Ruth back from school.  Perhaps I should have sent them in with sleeping bags and pillows so they could sleep in a classroom until it's fixed.

UPDATE: The machanic came, took away the radiator, bought a new piece, returned and put it all back together.  By 6pm all was fixed.

Keke

Kekes are ubiquitous around Jos. The little three-wheeler vehicles swarm through the streets like green and yellow wasps, enveloping traffic from all sides, considering (like many drivers here) the rules of the road to be optional.

Kekes near BRICC office

  They all have the same paintwork, obligatory for any taxi-like vehicle, but the opportunities for interior design seem endless.  I've seen seats covered in leopard skin material, insides painted bright pink and richly decorated cloth hanging like tapestries.  One day I followed a keke with the happy face of Alex Ferguson stuck to the small rear window, flanked by two more photos of (to me unknown but presumably Manchester United) footballers.
Another method of individualising your keke is to paint slogans on the back.  Some are profound, some unintentionally amusing, some rather obscure.  Here are a few I've collected.

• Lazy man not eat
• All power to Jesus
• Hard to find (not particularly sensible for a taxi!)
• What do you say?
• The rich also cry
• Man pass man God pass all
• Nothing good come easy
• Behold I have told you before
• Cash them young
• No condition is.....
• Love thy nevor
• School fees
• Don't trust girls
• Thank God man no be God
• Money nobe everything

BRICC has its own keke the rent from which is proving invaluable in supporting our weekly expenses.  I may find them extremely annoying as I'm under and overtaken at the same time but at least they're far easier to avoid than the motorcycle taxis they've replaced.