Travel in Zambia

Travel can always be challenging here in Africa and usually we do our best to avoid the stress of travel by sticking to well known travel options. Yesterday was the exception. Due to the illness of our pastor in Mozambique, I had committed myself to be at the Sunday services as much as possible. I had agreed to preach on Sunday, long before we had any idea that the service might be a memorial service for Pastor Sammy. It was one of the most challenging sermons emotionally, but it met some real spiritual and emotional need for all of us.

That meant that Monday was the big travel day. I decided that I wanted to maximize my time in Mongu, Zambia, so I would try to make it all the way in one day. Usually I travel in the evening of the first day, then bus for 8-9 hours the following day. It is tiring, but doable.

However, since the SAA and LAM (South African and Mozambique airline) companies have started to code share flights, I can catch the 7 AM into Joburg and the 10:30 AM into Lusaka, arriving by 12:30. Then catch a 1 or 2 PM bus to Mongu in Western Province, arriving by 10 or 11 PM, if all goes well. In theory it works nicely, without too much exhaustion. Notice I said, in theory.



The first leg went fine, arising at 4:45 am and getting to Joburg by 8 am. The next flight was a bit delayed, but we arrived in reasonable time. What I did not plan for was the Kenya Airways flight arriving just ahead of us with their 757 and filling the arrival lounge with visitors. Since both flights were international, the lines were long. Fortunately, I had a seat in the front of the plane and managed to get to the front of the visa required line. Unfortunately, others had some sort of clout to budge and it took more than 50 minutes for me to get through immigration. Now I was in trouble--would there even be any buses left at the station?

I grabbed a taxi and we got to the station by 2:30. All the big buses were full, although two were still sitting there. There was one smaller bus(30 passenger) still there taking on the last three passengers. After I bought my ticket, then there were two still to be sold. This should go fast! Wrong!!! They sold the tickets well enough, but took another hour to load the trailer with luggage and stuff. We finally left the station at 4, but did not make it out of town for another 40 minutes. Hmm, maybe we will arrive by midnight?

We made pretty good time in the first leg, but the second was slow due to the rough road. My seat was actually the last seat available and my knees were up around my chin, on top of the motor compartment. The last two buyers ended up sitting on the motor compartment and the stairs. I was thankful for the flip down seat, but it was still painful. Did you know a neck pillow work pretty good for seat pillows and back support too? I made full use of it.

At one point we stopped and dropped a young couple. The problem was their bags were buried. Time to unpack and re-tie the trailer. Ok, a least some time to stretch my legs. But then, there was a guy who wanted to take a dozen grain bags to Mongu for sale. So, they drove ahead about 80 feet, unloaded the whole trailer and then reloaded it. Total time, one hour. Ok maybe we can arrive by 1 AM now. I texted Wiggan and said, "Get some sleep, I will call when I arrive."

The next stretch of road is typically horrible and it was even worse in the small bus. It took way too long, but we arrived at the Kaoma stopover and took another hour to unload and reload the trailer--again. On the way out of town, there was almost a riot on the bus as the passengers began complaining about how the bus manager had disrespected them by taking so long and he should be forced by the driver to apologize. One guy even started to get out of his seat to get physical. It might have been more amusing if I were not sitting right beside the “manager.”

By now it was 11:30, we only had 200 kilometers to go and I was dozing or trying to. Maybe we can make it by 2:30? The neck pillow only worked one place at a time. I had moved seats when the young couple left, but the seat was not in great shape, so it was like exchanging one pain for another. Once I woke up to the bus sitting beside the road and a loud discussion about fuel. Something along the lines, “It must be the fuel pump, because we should have enough fuel to make it there, we should not have run out.” How comforting. Maybe we will be here all night!!

They restarted the bus, but shut it down again later for what seemed to be an attempt to unclog a fuel line connection. There went another 20 minutes. We did finally arrive at 2:45 and I was in a bed by 3 AM. Guess that makes it a 22 hour plus travel day. I would say never again, but you never know. After all, this is Africa.

Pastor Sammy Gumbe

It is with a heavy heart that I write this as we have received news that the pastor of our church in Maputo, Sammy Gumbe, has passed away. In June it was discovered that he had lymphoma. He had a couple of chemotherapy treatments but then was unable to continue them.

Our friend Mark Estes, who was part of the church for several years and now lives in Thailand with his family, wrote this tribute:

"Within five minutes of receiving the message [of Sammy's death], our family had just finished our evening meal and was listening to some praise and worship songs. My favorite – courtesy of Pastor Sammy’s love for the song – “He Knows My Name” played.

"I found myself suddenly alone with the music – Marcia in the kitchen cleaning as the kids meandered to their rooms to play. I sat down and sang in worship and remembered the passion of the song that was shared on so many Sundays not so long ago in Maputo – with Pastor Sammy up front enthralled in God’s Awe and encouraging Bruno to ‘play it again!!’…and Pastor wanted us all to experience that moment as he did.

"I recall often looking up to see Pastor Sammy holding one of his sons – sometimes both (he was a big strong man!) and seeing how much he and Christine loved them – and each other.

"I remember getting to know Pastor from our early days in Maputo back in 2007. We liked to “challenge” each other in loving and brotherly ways. We often didn’t see things eye to eye, but we let love guide our discussions and in the end, regardless of agreement or disagreement on a subject, I walked away with a deeper and growing respect and love for Pastor Sammy. I hope he did the same of me. I think he did.

What would Pastor say?

“God is Good…all the time…and all the time…God is Good” I can hear his voice. Do you remember how he said the word “Love”?

"I’m far away and know that many tears will flow in the days to come as MICF and the Community that knew Pastor come together to comfort and support Christine and the boys as they say “see you later” to Sammy. There is no such word or phrase in the Christian language that means ‘goodbye’ or ‘farewell’ as our assurance of Pastor’s new home is with us – and our comfort through faith holds us fast to the fact that one day…I’ll enjoy shouting praise with Sammy in a better place with the Father who indeed, “knows our name”.

"I can see Pastor Sammy now with the list of questions for the Lord… "OK Father, now that I’m home…and here for a while…there are a few things we need to talk about!”


The other thing Pastor Sammy would say is "God is faithful...all the time... and all the time...God is faithful, for that is His nature." These are good things to remember in a time like this when we could be tempted to ask "Why" and wonder about God's nature.

Pastor Sammy officiating at the wedding of Bruno and Letticia, from our church.