“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” Psalm 23:4

Tuesday 16 September 2008

Today began like so many others. The children gathered here in our yard by a quarter to seven, filling pails and buckets of water to tend their garden. John, the head boy organized some of the other children for sweeping and making sure the classrooms were in order. Our usual morning of smiling children, happily greeting us. Yvonne had come with a small handful of white sugar as a treat, and Chikomba had two small “sweets” (hard candy). Ron brought out brown sugar which the girls were not familiar with, but eager to try – more laughter. Ron met with the workers at the cafeteria building, continuing installing window sills, patching wall cracks and painting and fitting doors. As they worked they could hear the sounds of music, peaceful drums playing in the village. I was off to pick up Foster and then we headed to town, me driving the car and Foster the truck to renew vehicle fitness registrations. As we were driving in town, little could we know what tragedy had struck at George.

It was half past noon, as I was driving back to George when I received a call from Ron. Four men had come to the site asking for help and looking for Godwin, the Chairman of George. Godwin had borrowed a bicycle and gone to Twapia to buy relish (kapenta, the tiny fish eaten with nshima). The men told Ron that a man at George had hung himself this morning. They had phoned the police around noon, but they had not come yet. They asked Ron to please phone the police again and help find Godwin. It was soon discovered the police had not come yet because there was no transport for them. The men were understandably upset and anxious, as their friend must remain in the state he was found until the police arrive. Ron phoned me and asked me to look for the Chairman at Twapia and stop at the police station. I phoned Foster who was about ten minutes behind me, and he was able to phone Godwin and I met him at the entrance to Twapia. We drove to the Buyantashi Police Station, a satellite station located at the front of Twapia which serves the George Compound. The Chairman, who is similar to a mayor status, had quickly gathered information and filed the official report. The officer made careful notes as Godwin provided what information he had. The deceased, Dan Lungu, age 29, had returned home to George just three days earlier, having spent some time in prison. His wife had gone out early this morning, which is the usual time to do errands and any shopping, before the heat of the day. When she returned home she found her husband had hung himself using a mosquito net inside their home. They have not lived at George for very long. That was all the report said.

Once the report was filed, we were referred to the main police station at Twapia. The officer in charge, Mrs. Chijobeka Luwi, called two detectives to accompany her to George. And so I drove Mrs. Luwi, Godwin, and two officers, one holding an AK47 gun across his lap, back to George. When I asked about the gun, Detective Henry told me they must always go into the bush armed – just as a precaution – for their safety and ours. They never know what an investigation might reveal or what responses may be invoked. We stopped briefly at the OMNI site for Ron and Foster to follow us in the truck. That was the first it struck me just what all this trip would entail, and my head started spinning a little. We drove far back into George, twisting and turning down dirt paths until we saw a large crowd gathered outside a small dwelling.

The two detectives donned surgical gloves and entered the home with the officer in charge. Foster and Ron followed them. I remained outside. The size of the crowd increased once we arrived, but most stood far back, forming a large horseshoe which surrounded the front of the house. Just next to the doorway sat a small child, a little girl about three years old, just sitting and staring without looking at anything, dirt stained tear tracks running down her cheeks. Next to her was a woman, early twenties, holding a baby of about nine months in her lap. She was wailing, crying out to God, rocking back and forth in aguish. It was heart wrenching – heart breaking, a young woman widowed much too soon, left with two young children. Just then, they called for me inside the house. I wish I had not heard. My eyes slowly focused, adjusting to the darkness inside. There was only a small hole near the roof which allowed just a bit of light to filter in. It was as though time stood still for just a moment, as I slowly began to comprehend what I was seeing. What my eyes saw, pierced my heart. It was overwhelming - the tragedy, the hurt, the deep sorrow – and my heart just felt so very, very heavy, and tears surfaced immediately. I can’t imagine how this young woman who loved this man must have felt when she walked into that tiny dark room to find her husband and wonder at the torture he must have known to take his own life. All I could do was pray – pray for comfort and peace and healing for this family, pray that God will answer swiftly as this young mother and children call out to Him, and cry out for help.

The police detectives made an investigation at the home, then removed the body of Dan. The poor, tortured body of a young man who knew despair that no other here can imagine. They placed the body in the back of the truck, his wife brought a blanket from inside the house to cover him, and Ron drove the truck with Godwin and Detective Henry along with some friends and family to the morgue at Ndola Central Hospital. I sat in the back of the car next to Dan’s widow and infant, as Foster drove us with the other officers back to the Twapia Police Station. We left them all there to fill out more reports. When Ron returned to the station with the other officer, he picked up Mrs. Lungu and baby and returned to their home. He made a brief stop here at the OMNI house to retrieve a blanket. You see, she had used their only blanket to cover the broken body of her husband.

The village is in shock, as this is the first suicide anyone can remember ever happening at George. You can’t come to Africa and not be changed… forevermore. We are just praying intently for this family, for comfort and healing and strength and an abundance of God’s grace, love and mercy. That this family can lean into the strong arms of our Savior and feel His warm embrace, and know that He is with them always. No one here seems to know why this young man, with a young family, decided to take his life. Tonight, along with all of George Compound, we seek God and cry out to all of heaven and pray that God will heal these broken hearts, and protect and provide for this family.