Kuoth Ja Thin

Since meeting Nyabuol over a year ago, I have always known her to be “ciek mi buom buom”, or a strong woman, full of life as she is hilarious and very joyful. After being reunited with Nyabuol at the refugee camp, she shared with us all that had occurred since we had seen her in December.

There was a dispute with her son-in-law regarding the dowry paid for her daughter. As a result, her-son-in law shot her. When she was shot, she passed out and was taken to the MSF (doctors without borders) compound in town. The bullet entered through stomach and exited through her back. Her wounds were so bad that she was flown to another MSF location in South Sudan for better care.

Nyabuol remained there for a few months, having many surgeries to repair her mangled organs. When finally released from the hospital, she walked for 10 long days back to Nasir, with little to no food. Shortly after reaching Nasir, she was relocated to the refugee camp where we were reunited with her.

As Nyibol shared her story, she paused periodically to look up, point to the sky and say “Kuoth ja thin” which means “God is there”.

Nyabuol now walks with a limp and battles infection from the bullet wound. Nyabuol was a very thin woman to begin with, but after all this she is even smaller. However, she is still incredibly strong, and she hasn’t lost her humor or her joy.

Nyabuol regularly talks about the time that she “died” and how God saved her life. When I see the scar that covers the entire length of her stomach and the hole in her back from the bullet exit, I can’t help but think that she really shouldn’t be here with us today. She is a constant reminder that “Kuoth ja thin”.

Pumpkin cooking (Nyibuol on right in green jacket)

Nyabuol (green dress) teaching me Nuer tribal dances

Finding Nyabuol

On our return to Gambella in July, our desire was to find all of our Nasir employees. We had been praying earnestly that God would work to bring the others to us, much like he had with our guard and compound manager.

Soon after our return, we receive word that one of the ladies who carried water for us, Nyabuol, was in a refugee camp nearby. We knew that she had been shot by her son-in-law in March, but until now we had no idea where she was.

Early one Saturday morning, Laura, Keisha and I made the 4 hour bumpy ride to Matar, a border town with South Sudan situated very near to a refugee camp, in hopes of finding Nyabuol. We knew that finding Nyabuol in the midst of thousands of displaced people would be difficult, if not impossible. If we were to in fact find her, it would be miracle.

Car ride to Matar

As we made our way along the bumpy, muddy road in the land cruiser, we received an exciting text from Jared who had remained back in Gambella with the kids. His text said that Nyaret, the other lady who carried our water in Nasir, had randomly shown up on the compound! This was an answer to prayer. We had tried to find out information regarding her whereabouts, but had come up with nothing. To have her just walk onto the compound the same day that we went to find Nyabuol wasn’t just a coincidence.

Full of anticipation, we made it to the receiving grounds of the first refugee camp. People immediately began to recognize us from Nasir, making it easy to ask about Nyabuol. Many had seen her there recently but no one knew her exact location.

We continued on to Matar to see if we could find anything more. Reaching the main part of town, we decided to split up into two groups to cover more ground. After just 10 minutes of searching, Keisha and Laura walked up with a tall thin boy. They introduced him as Nyabuol’s son. He remembered us from Nasir and said that Nyabuol was in a different camp and that he could take us to her.

We found Nyabuol's son, Guan Neer! (tall boy next to Keisha)

We all piled into the landcruiser and headed to the camp. However, it was decided that it was best for us khawajas (white people) to wait outside the camp, as it is very difficult to be admitted to the camp if you’re not a registered aid worker or a displaced person. So Laura, Keisha and I sat under a tree with some donkeys, anxiously waiting.

On our way with Nyabuol's son

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the land cruiser pulled up, the door opened, and out came Nyabuol! The reunion was surreal. She came back to Gambella with us that day, and we were reunited with Nyaret soon after. Nyabuol and Nyaret are currently working for us here in Gambella.

Keisha teaching Nyaret and Nyebuol about frogs

Wounded in Battle

Soon after returning to Gambella, we were informed that there had been more fighting in Nasir. Some of the wounded of the White Army (rebel army) had been brought to the Gambella hospital for treatment.

Here, and in a good portion of Africa, if you go to the hospital all that is provided in regard to accommodations is a place to lie—if you’re lucky you may get a bed with a mattress, but nothing else. Your family is responsible for providing linens, food, and taking care of you---keeping you clean, aiding you in using the facilities, etc.

Since the wounded were not from Gambella, many of them had no family here to take care of them. We soon found out that many of the local churches had banded together to raise money for food, and the women of the church were cooking for the wounded. Each day, many of our friends would go together to the hospital to visit the men. This was so encouraging to see the local church reaching out to care for those in need.

One of these days, Jared, Laura and I went along with them. When we arrived at the hospital, we were taken through three wards, two of which were previously tuberculosis wards that had been converted to accommodate the wounded. All three wards were packed full of those wounded in the fighting. There was also a surgical ward nearby that was very active.

The rooms were damp, dirty, poorly lit, and there was no privacy. A musty odor filled through the room as a result of the stench of human excrement, soiled linens, and a leaky roof.

Seeing the degree of some of the wounds was a lot to take in: men wincing in pain as they gasped to take their next breath; those with freshly amputated limbs; some were so weak that they could barely move; family and friends sitting by the unconscious, waiting anxiously for the moment when they would awake. 

As I looked around I realized that some of these men were really just boys no older than 15.

Before coming here, I had just heard stories of fighting. Seeing this glimpse of the effects of the war really hit me hard. This fighting is real. People are dying. Families are being torn apart.

My heart is so burdened for the South Sudanese people. Many of them I now consider my family. I pray a lasting peace comes soon. 

A Whistle or a Chicken?

One afternoon, I went to visit a friend’s house. Ben, the middle Pierce child, decided to go with me. After visiting for a while, we left and went to the thuk mitot (or small market) to grab a few things. Ben is a super hard worker and is always looking for ways to earn money. When he earns money, he then of course has to find a way to spend it.

As we walked through the thuk mitot, I could tell Ben was on the lookout for something. When I asked him what it was, he simply told me he had some money and wanted to buy something fun….maybe a whistle.

We stopped at many different shops, and finally found a whistle. As Ben was weighing his color options, a boy walked up to make a purchase, and I noticed that he was holding a rooster. I jokingly made a comment about Ben buying the rooster. However, Ben did not see this as a joke; his eyes immediately lit up and he enthusiastically said that was a great idea. As we began to negotiate a price with the boy, I remembered how noisy our roosters were in Nasir and also that roosters don’t only crow in the morning, but all day long. I didn’t want to give him the okay to buy the rooster without asking his parents, so we asked the boy to follow us home to get an answer.

Unfortunately for Ben (and fortunately for the rest of us who like sleep), when we arrived home Jared and Keisha said no to the rooster. However, they did say that he could buy a chicken since they are not as loud.  Arrangements were made with the boy to bring back a chicken. A few days later the boy showed up with Ben’s chicken tucked under his arm.

I am sad to report that his chicken only stayed with us one day before flying over the fence and getting lost….No worries though, the Pierce kids now have a mama goat, Nana Montana and her baby,  Himalayas. I’m sure the two of them will bring about many more stories!

In Memory of Yien

Back in May, we discovered that our compound had been looted. As far as we knew, all of our workers were okay. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that we received news that our night guard, Yien, had passed away. His passing had nothing to do with the fighting in Nasir. We were told he went to sleep one night and never woke up.  Even now, as I think about it, it’s still hard to believe he’s gone. I keep expecting him to wander onto our compound in Gambella much like many other of our workers from Nasir have.

Yien--on the left

After Yien’s passing, we learned a little more about him. He had been the first Every Village “volunteer” in Nasir to manage the Hai Majak water well. Over time his position evolved and he became a paid security guard, and a good one at that.

Here are a few of my fondest memories of Yien.

Yien was a feisty little man, as most Nuer are. Every morning, as I sat on my front porch drinking my coffee, he was the first person to walk up the narrow path by our house and let out a good hearty “malE kE runwang” or good morning. Yien always had a smile on his face, and he had the best laugh.

Some mornings, I would look over at the well to see Yien in his over-sized white sports coat directing the ladies at the well. We joked that it looked like he was a maestro directing an orchestra as he was very animated in pointing, ushering and moving the ladies along in an organized fashion.

Our first week in Nasir was slightly terrifying, especially at night, for we were not aware of the security situation. The first few nights, we were awakened by the crunch of footsteps outside the house and a light reflecting off the roof. Laura would call out asking who was there. Every time, we heard the same heavy Nuer accent of Yien as he answered “security guard”.

We had a safari tent on the compound for a while that was used as a guard station, and Yien would sleep in it. One night, there was a HUGE windstorm. When we came out in the morning we discovered that the safari tent had blown across the field with Yen inside it! Yien didn’t speak English, but his acting abilities were top notch so he acted out his flying adventure. (he was okay—just some bruises--- and we all got a good laugh out of the whole situation)

Safari tent after it rolled across the field

One night, a basin was stolen from the outdoor bathing area. Yien spent the entire day investigating. That evening, he returned with an eye witness in tow. He knew who took the basin and Yien wanted justice. As custom in South Sudan, we had to pay for the police to arrest the thief.

Another time, some of our chickens escaped. We hadn’t seen them in a few days, so we just counted our losses. But then, Yien came strutting through the gate with the lost chickens. I still have no idea how he found them.

Every so often while living in Nasir, we would be out a little after dark. O man, Yien was not happy about this. He would meet us at the gate shaking his head and pointing at his watch. He really was concerned about our safety.

As I reflect on the life of Yien, even though I only knew him a short time, my heart is full of fond memories but also filled with some sadness. I am reminded of the fleetingness of human life, as well as the urgency of the Gospel. Even now, as I say good bye to friends who travel back and forth between refugee camps, I always do it as though it may be the last time we meet. 

Rest

Since moving to Gambella in March, we have moved around three times. I am so grateful to the Lord for providing the compound we are now living on. It is smack dab in the middle of the Nuer section of town, which is awesome. However, it can be very busy as there is a lot of traffic right outside our gate that sometimes wanders onto the compound. The compound is very small, and usually at least 2 or 3 locals are present, which means a lot of closeness. Living in a small house with 6 other people, there is not much alone time. Laura and I share a room with a woven rug hanging as a divider to provide a little privacy. Given the living conditions and the cultural aspects of it being completely okay to poke your head in the window, sometimes it feels like I am on 100% of the time. So as much as I love what I do, as we headed to Kampala assignment this time, I was honestly very ready.

This Kampala assignment, I met up with my mom and cousin in Israel. Israel is a beautiful country. It was a wonderful time spent with family and seeing places I read about in the Bible. One night, we stayed in Tiberius, which is on the Sea of Galilee. While there, I began to think about the story of Jesus getting in a boat to get away from the multitude of people that were constantly following him. There are many accounts of Jesus going to a place to be alone to pray. Solitude. He needed a break. That’s what I needed.

I had been feeling slightly guilty about being so ready for a break this time, but I saw that it isn’t a bad thing to need to rest. Even from the creation of the world, God set in place for us as humans to need to rest.

I am very thankful that Every Village has worked into our roles the time for rest. Rest

Visitors

With the unrest in South Sudan, we periodically hear rumors of skirmishes nearby. Although Gambella is safe for the most part, we are still cautious and keep on the alert.

During our stay in the mudhuts, I was awakened one night by rapid footsteps of at least half a dozen people coming up the path towards my hut. Because of all the rumors I had been hearing, my heart began to race. Where we being ambushed? 

My hut was at the front of the small compound (and I was by myself), so I would be the first hut to be reached. I flipped on my head lamp and quickly scanned my eyes across the room looking for something to use to protect myself just in case.

There were voices outside, but no great commotion. After a few minutes, I heard Jared speaking with a man and then lots of movement coming from the storage hut.

I soon ventured outside to see about 10 people (men, women, and children) spread out on a mat preparing to sleep.

It turns out that a pastor from Nasir had come to Gambella with his family. According to culture, if someone shows up, you give them a place to stay and food to eat, and we were able to do just that.