Lessons learned in Africa

On the left is Elder Oketa from Uganda. He is about 6' 8" tall, thin and athletic-looking. He has a big smile and a bigger heart. As an 8 year old boy he would do his own laundry after school. He had one t-shirt and one pair of shorts. When they needed to be cleaned he and his friends would go to the river after school and splash around in the water—that was the laundry machine. One day he and a neighbor boy and a cousin were in the river doing laundry when it started to rain. Local concrete companies harvest sand from this river bank and often leave deep holes.

The boys climbed into one of the holes and dug in deeper to create a cave of sorts to protect them from the rain. As the sand above them got wetter it got heavier, and eventually it collapsed trapping all three boys under the sand. This all occurred at about 4:00 in the afternoon. The boys were not found until 10:00 the next morning. Somehow two of the boys were trapped in a way that their faces were not covered with sand, and miraculously they survived. When the cave collapsed it trapped young Elder Oketa in a way that his left leg was stuck underneath him. Imagine being buried in sand as an eight year old, in complete darkness not able to move at all for 18 hours!

When they were found Elder Oketa’s left leg was terribly swollen. He was rushed to the hospital and his leg was saved but permanently damaged. He can walk, and he can run (after a fashion) but with great pain. Try this experiment: Elder Oketa’s left foot cannot bend at the ankle—it is stuck in a pointed position. Point your left toe as far as you can, like a ballerina, and try to walk without bending your ankle. That is how he walks. His heart is soft, and I sensed no bitterness in him. His response to the accident was, “God saved my life. There must be something he has for me to do!”

Last Sunday morning Elder Oketa was assigned to help bless the sacrament. He ran to a mirror and discovered he needed to shave. Most African young men don’t need to shave very often. They might have a few straggly whiskers—peach fuzz really. But Elder Oketa wanted to look clean to participate in the sacrament. The trouble is that he did not have a razor. He went to his room and prayed that somehow he might find a way to look clean for the sacrament. He went back to the elders’ restroom and, standing at the sink could see out an open window. In the dirt of the flower bed outside he saw the handle of an old, dirty, rusty bik razor. To Elder Oketa this was a tender mercy--the answer to his prayer. He retrieved it and quickly shaved with hand soap and a rusty razor. From Elder Oketa I learned humility and faithfulness.

The elder facing you is Elder Mkochi from Zimbabwe. He, like many of the African missionaries, was not able to receive his own endowment before entering the MTC. Last Sunday evening the MTC president taught a simple temple preparation meeting for those who had not yet been endowed. They would be entering the South Africa Temple on Tuesday. As part of the meeting the president spoke of the opportunity to not only receive their own ordinances but also the opportunity to do work for their ancestors.

Elder Mkochi came to the president after the meeting and asked if it might be possible for him to do the work for his family. We thought he meant ancestors. He didn’t. He meant his mother, his father and his two brothers who had all died. The president described how the process worked and how he should go about it after his mission. The elder dropped his head. It did not take much to interpret the discouraged look. Elder Mkochi knows that he will likely not EVER get to the temple again in his lifetime.

We helped Elder Mkochi create a Family Search account. He provided all of the details he had, and we were able to prepare information needed for his mother, father and brothers so that their work can be done. Elder Mkochi received his own endowment a week ago. Tomorrow he will stand as proxy for his father and his brothers to be baptized—a sister missionary for his mother. The following week he and three fellow missionaries will act as proxy for all four to receive the endowment, and then this family will be sealed together. I wish you could have seen his face when he realized that he can be sealed to his family. From Elder Mkochi I learned eternal family love.

Both the Ghana and South Africa MTCs train North Americans called to serve in Africa as well as local Africans. For many of the North American missionaries, missionary service represents a significant financial sacrifice on the part of the individual, the family, and in some cases the home ward and stake. But by comparison, the North Americans have it easy. These faithful African elders and sisters come from poverty like you cannot imagine. If they arrive at the MTC with two ties, three pairs of socks, a second-hand pair of dress shoes, one white shirt and a worn suit three sizes too big they feel lucky.

After being in Africa for a few days I noticed an African missionary wearing a tie that I was sure I saw a North American wearing the day before. I noticed another African elder walking tentatively in what was obviously a brand new pair of shoes. I noticed another elder in a crisp, well-pressed white shirt that hung on his neck like a young deacon in his dad’s shirt.

Later one of the North Americans pulled me aside and asked if he could make a suggestion. “The Missionary Department should instruct us to bring more shoes, shirts, socks, and ties,” he said. I asked what he had, and he responded, “About half of what I need.” I pressed a little and he just looked over at his smiling companion.

“They come with nothing,” he said. “What else can we do?”

From these good North American elders I learned charity.