- Gabi, tell me something about your family.
- My parents come from Togo. They moved to Ghana around 1930. We are three boys and six girls in the family. I am the second born. My family is 100% Catholic and they are all very religious. My grandma, when I was a boy, used to wake me up every day at 5.30 in the morning so I would accompany her to the church for a Mass. In our custom the old woman is not supposed to go to church alone.

- So you were sort of forced to go to church.
- You may say so, I really was forced. But when I became an altar boy I started to enjoy the Mass. I developed an interest in the liturgy. Now I believe that this everyday going to church made me think about priesthood, that this was the beginning of my vocation.

- Who were the priests you met as a boy?
- They were the SVD missionaries. I was always impressed by their dedication to the missionary work. They left their countries to work for us. I always admire that and soon I wanted to become one of them. The bishop of my diocese wanted me to become the diocesan priest but my love for the SVD was too strong. Finally I was received to the Society by Fr. Horst Wrzask, who was provincial in Ghana at this time.

- Where did you want to go for the mission?
- My first wish was to go to Papua New Guinea.

- But you ended up in Zimbabwe.
- Yes. Because Fr. General asked for missionary to Zimbabwe. So I came together with Krystian and Alberto to Plumtree. And soon I was sent to Embakwe. There I experienced some tragic moments.

- What happened?
- I worked for some time in Empandeni Mission. When I left that place, that was on Wednesday, the dissidents came, on Friday evening and attacked the mission. They were armed with AK assault rifle and tried to kill the missionaries. They killed Bro. Kilian and seriously wounded Fr. Johannes. At 3 a.m. I got a phone call from Krystian, from Plumtree about the incident. Then I went to Empandeni and I saw for myself what happened. For all the dedication and good work my friend, Bro. Kilian was shot dead. I wept and wept.

- What did you do about the whole situation?
- I had to provide some security, so I arranged with the police that they would come and secure the mission and the school in Empandeni. Then this same I organized for Embakwe.

- Then the more peaceful times came.
- I went for studies and took care of our postulants in Ndolwane. And afterwards I was transferred to Dlamini.

- What was dramatic and what was joyful in your mission work in Dlamini?
- I am only two years now in Dlamini, so it’s too short time to fill it with dramatic experiences. But I had some exiting moments, specially at the beginning. When I told the people I was coming they said the mission was not ready. I said: “Don’t worry. I need only some small place to sleep. You people live here, work, eat. I can do it also, with you.” After a week I arrived. There was still a building work going on, but one room was available, so I used it as a bedroom, sitting room, office, and dining room. Everyday 5 a.m. I woke up and went to the bush for a shower; because it was still dark. By the time the workers got up, I was washed and ready for the day. Then I went to my small room and said the Holy Mass. So it was also a chapel. The only thing I didn’t like was the music during the Mass.

- What music?
- All the noise made by the workers, specially with the hammers.

- How the Catholics in Dlamini received you?
- The reception was really African. And I know what I am talking about, because I am an African myself. They received me with open arms. Since the beginning I felt at home among these people. They were ready to give me anything and to do anything for me. Only the first day the workers cooked for me. The next day a girl came, with all the pots given by the mother and cooked for me.

- Was she a good cook?
- They were anxious if the father eats this same food as they eat, but I assured them there is no difference between my stomach and theirs. The only thing I didn’t eat was meat; and it surprised them very much. However they were happy that I eat “amacimbi”, the caterpillars.

- You experienced quite a lot in the missions. Now you are happy in Dlamini. How would you feel if you were transferred?
- If that was for the good of the Church, why shouldn’t I go? ¶
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The story of Ndolwane Mission is short but interesting. Ndolwane Mission is 96 km Northwest of Plumtree. It is known as the Kalanga speaking area. Long time ago it was believed to be Methodist oriented. Later on the Zionist came along and they now seem to be the majority. Since the coming to Zimbabwe the SVD planned to open a new mission north of Plumtree. It was also according to the agreement with the Bishop of Bulawayo. Our missionaries open quite a number of outstations not far from Ndolwane but for few years Ndolwane itself was not an outstations. In most of the outstations it was the people who would seek the contact with the priests. There was different thing with Ndolwane. The initiative came form the SVD. In early 1990’s Alex Rodlach and Krystian Traczyk approached the people of Ndolwane to find out whether the people would accept the Roman Catholic Church in their midst, and they showed interest. The same year Godefrey Manunga was assigned to be the parish priest with Gabriel Sosu as his assistant.
   
Faith and culture
The Kalanga and Ndebele people are very simple and open to the foreigners. They also like and respect their culture. Almost every month you may find somewhere a traditional ritual carried in order to strengthen their lives. Rituals like: "umbuyiso, umthethelo, amayila, isikhumbuzo..." In fact these people's life is rooted in this relationship between them and the ancestors. On the other hand they believe that God is the almighty. In 1993 when the missionaries came the local people welcomed them. They even cleared the area, build the first priests house and later built a grass thatched chapel.

At the beginning, in spite of some minor problems, things went on smoothly and the missionaries could implement the policy of the Archdiocese of Bulawayo. They could make Parish council and train the catechists. They implemented different associations like: St. Anne, St. Joseph, The youth and Holy Childhood. They started with dress making and cooking for women. The Archdiocese helped the Mission by building the church, priests house and SVD built formation house for postulants. The Mission became a nice place with a nice church which was blessed by Archbishop Henry Karlen on the 6th October 1995. By then the attendance was very high with a lot of men, women and children. The missionaries opened some outstations and people were interested to become Catholics. As time went on the expectations of people were not met. In fact people are thinking that the Roman Catholic Church is very rich. It will build schools, dams, boreholes, feeding everybody, paying school fees... It is also good to point out that others churches were not happy. They were thinking that Roman Catholic Church would take other Christians.

The Church was thorn between his objective which is to proclaim the Kingdom of God and strengthen the faith and expectations of people. The Church couldn't fulfill the material expectations of the people. After the first enthusiasm the number of the faithful dropped.
 

Ndolwane Mission and its growth
It will be premature to expect much growth from a Mission like Ndolwane which is eight years old with most of the Christians illiterate. In spite of that there are signs of hope. Same of the old ladies come to church every Sunday from as far as six kilometers. When we have functions same people could walk up to 40 or 60 km to the mission expecting nothing as payment. They long for the word of God. People buy and read bibles and have even removed the traditional bangles and replaced them with rosaries. Maybe they are not able to pray the rosary but they are happy to witness their faith.

The present time
In Ndolwane we don't choose whom to visit, we are visiting everybody. We are following the policy of the Archdiocese of Bulawayo according to the reality of our area. We are still trying to establish the different associations like: St. Anne, St. Joseph, the Youth and the Holy Childhood. The Parish Council meets three or four times a year. The projects in the Mission like poultry, brick molding, fence making, growing sweet potatoes help us somehow to organize the pastoral work. ¶
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I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.
Jn. 10,11

The parable of the Good Shepherd has a sturdy impact on me during my stay here in Zimbabwe. It is one of the stories of Jesus in which I can really relate and experience that loving and generous God preached, by him. Maybe it is because the life of shepherding is part of everyday experience here. Zimbabwe is a goat, sheep and cattle- raising country. The "abelusi" as hey call the shepherds are everywhere taking good care of their cattle, sheeps and goats.

I still don't fail to smile every time I remember my one-month stay in the village to practice the Ndebele language and to experience the life and culture of the ordinary villagers; I stayed in a simple family but very religious. They treated me as one of their kin and they did not fail to make me feel at home. In the morning I joined the children in the school. I stayed for a week with grade-one pupils then the following week with grade-two pupils. The following two weeks I was promoted until grade-four, It was the first time I encountered "instant promotion", but nonetheless it has helped me a lot to experience once again how a small child learn how to speak. Learning a new language is fun but very humbling. Like a small child I am very dependent to my elders and teachers. In this case, even my grade-one classmates were my elders and teachers as well.
 
In the evening after supper, our family usually gathered around the fire telling and listening stories. As the fire makes us warm during those windy and cold evenings, the laughter around the fire makes that family even warmer. Our mother always leading, us to pray before we eat and leading us again to pray before we go to sleep. Our evening wishes seem ordinary but in our family it was truly an expression of love and care.

There was a new and interesting experience that I learn during my stay in that family. I have learned how to shepherd the goats and the cattle. Every afternoon I volunteered myself to join the boys in looking for the goats and leading them back to the kraal. Like any ordinary ten-year old boys, they teased one another and had some fights on our way. What I learn from them are not these fights but the mastery of knowing their goats well. The village has a wide range of bushes. It belongs to no one, so all the sheep, goats and cattle from the entire neighborhood roamed practically everywhere. There maybe many hundreds of them, and to look for our twenty goats among them is not an easy job. But not for the boys. They knew their goats and they knew them very well. "Is that our goat?" This was always my question every time I see a goat. And they always answer me with smile in their faces, "Asiyo!" (meaning: It's not the one!). Even from afar, they can recognize them easily and the goats recognize their voices as well. I don't know if I will ever learn this trade, but maybe it will take me a lot of time.
 
OTP in Zimbabwe
Overseas Training Program (OTP) is a program in the SVD, which allows the seminarians to experience missionary life outside the country of origin while they are still in formation. It is in this program that I realized my dreams to be here in Africa among our African brothers and sisters. It is a dream come true from which the origin of my vocation is deeply rooted. And I was appointed here in Zimbabwe, in the southern part of Africa.

Learning Another OTP
My OTP in Zimbabwe is really an experience of the Good Shepherd. My two years of stay here makes me feel that He is really out there taking good care of me. Just like a good shepherd, he knows me very well and always calling and looking for me whenever I'm lost and leading me back to his sheepfold.
 
My OTP in Zimbabwe has brought another OTP for me, which I considered God's plentiful blessings', This somehow sums up my experience here in Zimbabwe. This is the other OTP which I learned here; Orientation to the Ndebele Culture, Trainings in various fields of missionary work, and Pastoral work in a bush mission of
Ndolwane.
 
Orientation to the Ndebele Culture
During months of my stay in the village, I experienced the beauty of Ndebele culture. Generally, Africans are simple people. It is shown in the way they are living. The place where I stay is a rounded hut where everything is just arranged beautifully on the sides. The fireplace is in the middle to keep everybody warm during wintertime. The way they prepare food is also showing their simplicity. We only take tea and bread for breakfast, then we eat "isitshwala" or maize meal during lunch and supper with one kind of relish, usually a stew.

Their mode of dressing is also very unique. They are not very particular of the style but of its usefulness. I like to see them when they are using this colorful-African design clothing material. Women are always bringing it with them when they are visiting other places to cover themselves from dust when they are sitting on the ground.
 
Aftican families are usually large and extended but have close family ties. I like it very much when we are gathered around the fire telling and listening stories from our grandmother's story book down to the present happening of the children in school.
 
Singing and dancing can never be separated from an African culture. One characteristic of Ndebele language is repetitive. By repeating one sentence they can make a good tune and music with the beautiful and magnificent beatings of the drums. The dancing follows automatically when there are singing. The movement of their hands and feet makes any gathering even in the church a truly alive congregation. This is the place where the message of inculturation sounds so clearly. In terms of liturgy; wedding, baptism and funeral, I could say that they are really unique. The made me even think of my own culture and how far are we still in terms of inculturation compared to them. They took pride of their culture in which they made me think about my own culture. Do I know a lot of my culture? Do I take pride of them? This is one realization that I learned: I cannot fully understand and love another culture if I don't know and love my own culture.

Training in Various Fields of Missionary Work
I am appointed to work in a bush mission. It is around 200 km from the city of Bulawayo and 100 km from the town of Plumtree. We don't have electricity and the road is very rough and dusty. Sometimes these roads are not crossable during rainy season. We have generator in the mission but considering the fuel crisis in Zimbabwe we have to control ourselves not to overuse it.
 
Given the above situation, my life here trained me to become as simple as I can be. Our place and mission in Ndolwane is far from the lure of materialism. This is one place where you can see only a vast of dried fields because we are strucked by drought this past two years and rivers with no water. The many cattle, goats and sheep flocking to the almost dried up dam and a wide range of mopane trees and bushes where the elephants are constantly visiting in search of food and water. Bush life is teaching me to become simple myself.
 
Our bishop told us once that the only thing that we are exporting here is time. And since the people here have all the time, sometimes they don't care the value of time. Indeed, this is true especially in the bush mission like ours. We have only few catholics, which means less work and less demand for sacraments. We cannot organize religious activities all the time for most of them are working very hard in the fields taking good care of their crops if there is enough rain or busy herding their animals. From this pastoral reality, I learned to use my time in other productive activities like flower and vegetable gardening in which I am very proud of its much produce of vegetables, tomatoes and onions. During my much free time, I make some decorations in the chapel, mission house, office and bedrooms. In a way, these activities freshened up my creativity.
 
In other things, I am in training to do some paper works like preparing baptismal cards, isondlo or church donation cards and keeping the records for the financial report of the mission. I learn also how to make project and budget application, which is a very tough job.
 

Pastoral Work in Ndolwane Mission
Ndolwane Catholic Mission is one of the new missions in the Archdiocese of Bulawayo. It was an outstation before of Plumtree and was officially opened in 1995. Considering its young foundation, we still have few Catholics in the area. The place of Ndolwane is dominated mostly of Zionist churches, Methodist churches and more are still worshipping their ancestral spirits. At the moment, our mission has 16 outstations or small Christian communities and considering its wide scope, many are still asking to open a new community.
 
Generally, our main task in this mission is guiding these small communities to become a truly Christian community. I owe everything that I learned in pastoral care from my parish priest, Fr. Bernard llunga wa llunga. He is an SVD Congolese priest who has been in Ndolwane for 4 years. For such a short time, he already mastered the language and has strong desire to be inculturated. We can talk freely to each other and never treated me as inferior but a friend and his co-missionary. He is sharing to me everything concerning the mission, which makes me aware of the reality of missionary life - its joys and challenges. He just loves the mission and that is what I needed most.

My pastoral work ranges from visiting the small Christian communities to visiting the sick in their homestead. Because of the long distances from one community to another, I have to use a car. It was here that I took the initiative to learn and love driving. It is very tiring especially in the rough road like ours but what a consolation when we see our faithful Christians waiting for us with joy and enthusiasm to listen to the Word of God. Every time I joined Fr. Bernard in visiting the outstations, I'm always amazed how these people practiced their Christian faith. I always find them very joyful, enthusiastic and energetic. I am getting used now to pray and celebrate the holy mass with them for more than two hours. In some other days, I just use my bicycle to join the Bible service in the three sections near the mission. It helped me to be more close to them and to know the reality of their lives in the villages.
 
The AIDS pandemic is very rampant in Zimbabwe and our mission is not an exemption. Around the mission I am visiting more than ten elderly and sick people. Every Friday I have the chance to pray over them and even just to be with them for a short while. It is really very disheartening to see how this silent killer slowly taking over the person. They can still sit and stand during my first visit then they became bedridden in their last days. Of those sick people I'm visiting, there are already four who have joined our creator and their faces and memories will always be part of me. They have many different stories, which they share to us but their life and faith will live on as we learn from them. Life is a precious gift from God. We have to value and take good care of it.

My Lord, My Shepherd
My OTP years in Zimbabwe is truly an experience of the Good Shepherd. The gift of OTP (Orientation to the Ndebele culture, Trainings in various fields of missionary work, and Pastoral work in a bush mission) is something that I can treasure forever. I can share the feelings of the psalmist in Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack.
In green pastures you let me graze; to safe waters you lead me;
You restore my strength.
You guide me along the right path for the sake of your name.
Even when I walk through a dark valley,
I fear no harm for you are at my side,
Your rod and staff give me courage.
 
There is no wonder why God implanted that dream in me to work in Africa. He has been faithful to His promise for my experience here in Zimbabwe has been full of green pastures. When I go back to my country and finish my formation program, I am very sure I will not be that same person again. I will be a person richer than ever before - richer in experience and most especially richer in God's love...a loving God who is my Lord and my Shepherd! ¶
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The Catholic Church in Zimbabwe is the Church of the poor. Our parishioners are not wealthy enough to become members of any of the new and fashionable sects. Reason – 10% of your income goes to the “church” and to join such a group a certificate of earnings is required – well, first one has to have a job… and talk about salvation does not go well with an empty stomach.

But I will not dwell on this rampant poverty, many would not even believe these stories or think of them as an exaggeration. What can the people offer to the Church? – once our Sunday collection amounted to the equivalent of 1 US cent! Yet, the beauty is in the fact that the people are still willing to share this little that they have.

Here is an idea that Krystian, our senior in Zimbabwe, came up with: each person can buy corn seeds at half price. Corn is the staple food here. As everybody working here knows, giving for free spoils rather than educates. Therefore, each person had to come up with half of the cost, the other half was covered by the mission. Those who could not pay even that had a chance to make up the difference in another way - for 5kg of seeds they had to give back 10 kg of harvested corn. 5 kg of seed would yield about 200 kg of grain so the deal was fair. Of course, the mission would not use all this corn, it would be given to the orphanages where food is often scarce. Such initiatives are good examples of ingenuity in dealing with crisis situations. Miraculously, even in the midst of this poverty there come blessings. Here though, there is no room for pretending, waiting for manna from heaven. Initiative and first steps must come from us.

Mpimi is a small village about 40 minutes from the mission. 10 years ago there was not a single Catholic around. And then Krystian began to visit the villages. With time community in Mpimi grew and a year ago the construction of the Church has began. It was the community’s initiative, their work. I had a chance to witness the completion of the project and preparation for the Blessing of the new Church. Finally, the day arrived. The oldest people did not remember anything of this magnitude ever happening in the village. The local bishop arrived as well as about thousand visitors from surrounding areas. It was, after all, the only Church in the area.
The Eucharist was very solemn indeed. And then the party afterwards! Two cows were consumed and countless quantities of the local beer brewed in huge metal drums. In the evening one of the elders took me to the Church, sitting down on some broken chair and raising his glass he said with tears is the eyes: “Look, we have our own Church!”

Indeed, it is the people who make up the Church - in a way they know, no better or worse. And a missionary? He does it with them, not for them but with them, together. Like with most things in Africa, things are done in community. I can not help but think how different is this model of the Church from the one I grew up in.  
 
Evening, we just came back from the bush. This is Wednesday – the day of visiting outstations in the surrounding villages. We have 23 of them. Together with Matthew we visited four of them. In each a Eucharist, of course in the local language – Ndebele. And places for the celebrations? – somewhere in the shade – under a tree with a stone for the altar. Friendly people, appreciation for our struggle with the intricacies of Ndebele. On the way back we give a ride to a group of students returning from school. Some have to march four hours one way - Daily! It means their day begins at 4 in the morning.

A few days ago the first rains arrived. What a change of landscape! A month ago all was brown and bone dry. Few withered leaves and black, burned out patches of bush. Now, with the blessing of rain the green exploded with such intensity that the previous grey colors vanished completely. And the cows roam the fields looking fat and happy. As we travel through this lush greenery Krystians turns to me – “Do you smell the air?” oh yes, I realized the long forgotten scent of rain was omnipresent.

Mission Sunday. I am in town. About a thousand people gathered for the Eucharist. And what a celebration! -  drums, dances, even sounds of a horn! Ten years ago this place was nothing but a bushy field. Now a lively community gathers here. It feel so overwhelming to be a part of it all. A part of a mission with no beginning and no end. ¶
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There are many things in Africa that can be frightening: poverty, lack of perspective, Aids, cemeteries overflowing with fresh graves, homeless children roaming the streets.
Yet, it is here that I learn to live and to be a priest; to appreciate what I have and not worry about what I'm lacking. At times this ambivalence about the present and future might seem to border on indifference, but this border is fixed by foreign categories of career and success. Here people live on much less than those in the West, and need much less to be satisfied.
 
I was called to the hospital today. An old man had his leg amputated. He needed the sacrament of the anointing. I was afraid, I am always afraid of those hospital visits - afraid of questions to which I do not know the answers, afraid of hopelessness.
The old man fell down about three months ago. His leg hurt since then. He went to the doctor but got only aspirin. A few days ago he went back to the doctor because a wound opened on his knee. “Yes,” said the doctor, “We should have made an x-ray right away, but now it is too late, we can only amputate it.”
And so I entered the ward. I look for him. And I found him smiling, we talked, we laughed, we prayed.
There was a man on the next bed, “Are you Catholics? Pray with me."
It turned out that he is not yet baptized but attending baptism preparation and is to be receive the sacrament at Christmas. I looked at his swollen hand. "One guy bit me!" he explained. It turned out that a mentally disturbed person attacked him at night. "And when are you leaving the hospital?” I inquired, “Tomorrow, – tomorrow they will cut off my hand, the infection is now too advanced to save it.”
 
I could describe hundreds of such tragedies and the lessons that come with them. Usually, as a priest, I expect questions such as "Where is God? Why does God allow this to happen to me?" Instead, I usually hear "Pray with me father, give me a blessing." Africa teaches to live in a simple manner.

What images does the first Holy Communion evoke? White dresses, gifts, large parties, all nice and sweet.
It was different today. It was poverty, bad smell, tears and silence. At the same time, it was moving and special. It was the hospital again. In the corner a girl was lying on the floor. Her body covered by a severe skin rash. She was in obvious pain and discomfort; tears streaming down silently. The doctors did not know what it is. She complained of headache and ear pain. It is worst when pain killers stopped to work. But how many pills can one take?

She is an orphan. Her uncle (our parishioner) took care of her. "I do not know what to do anymore," he said, "They want to discharge her from the hospital." I asked whether I could do something. "I do not think so, but a few days ago, when the pain was less severe, she wanted to receive the first Communion. Do you think father it would be possible?"
And so today Eugenia received the Holy Communion for the first time. It was at her uncle's house. I wanted it to take place in the Church, together with other children, with dancers and songs. But she was too weak to participate. Her hearing and sight were growing weaker. In the midst of this despair she was happy, even if for a brief moment.

And I was asking Jesus the questions ….. I begged to do something, to help…

Eugenia did not receive any presents that day. But that was not important; a little girl in continuous pain which robbed her even of the relief of sleeping was asking to receive Jesus…

Indeed, Africa teaches how to be a priest, in the most fundamental manner...  ¶