Last week i wrote of how I’m trying to respond to Uganda’s ubiquitous poverty and disease. I said that we were somehow running an ambulance service. I’ll have to post that essay separately tomorrow.

There will never be a time when an ambulance isn’t dealing with an emergency. So please don’t imagine that I’m just crying wolf or that there will be an end to these appeals.

So yes, when i come begging for help with the latest emergency— remember that Emergencies “R” Us!— and emergencies are always serious.

But this time—

—kindly let me talk about the Church in Africa, and how i’m trying to respond to what’s going on with that. Because if you don’t understand what’s happening in the Church here, you’ll have a very unrealistic picture of “Orthodox mission” (or of any mission), and of what we need and what to support and what we should not support— even when organizations other than mine come begging.

Mass baptisms!

“75 souls united to Christ in Baptism in Uganda.” (Courtesy orthochristian.com)

Missionary organizations, including the Orthodox one in America, love to show pictures of mass baptisms and colorful natives happily learning the “Orthodox Way of Life” despite all their troubles. We’re succeeding! Hope springs up in the deep village! Theosis warms the hearts of the Poor!

You may not notice, though, that there are seldom any pictures of the urban poor.

“Go forth” is the slogan— porefthentes, Mt 28.19— “and preach— and baptize!”

Well, about that. I know a Muslim girl now living in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, who was baptized three times. Every time the Greeks came, the priest invited the school kids, “Come and get baptized! Get a godparent to pay your school fees!” She never did get a Greek sponsor, although I myself helped her finish high school later on. At the time, I didn’t even know whether she was Orthodox or not. I don’t sell the faith, and i don’t ask people to become prostitutes.

She texted me on facebook some years later to thank me. She was grateful for the education, but she had remained Muslim despite all her baptisms. I’m happy that she’s doing well in Jeddah now.

Collapse and its reasons

The instability of rice conversions is only a minor part of why the Orthodox Church in Africa has all but collapsed— collapsed at least from one point of view. The other point of view is that it hasn’t collapsed at all— the Russians are just taking over. And they seem to be doing ok— so far. Anyway, the Alexandrian Church is pretty upset, but there’s not much they can do about it.

The Uganda Church, which is part of the Patriarchate of Alexandria, is down from 50 clergy to 18 or so. I can’t get anyone to actually tell me exactly how many. Rwanda, I hear, is down to 6 clergy, if you count uneducated readers. I’ve heard that western Tanzania is down to 1 priest, thought i admit no verification.

It seems the Russians have simply bought up half or more of the Orthodox clergy in Africa, because the Greek churches have never paid them a living wage. $200 a head for some scores of priests, plus some nice vestments and a few tickets to Russia, is a heck of a cheap foreign policy, and it’s bought a lot of good will for Russia throughout villages all over Africa.

Bishop and priests presiding over the baptism shown in the picture above. At least two of the three priests in this picture have since joined the Russian Church.

Meanwhile, back at the Alexandrian franchise, we’re so short of priests and people here at “Aghia Sophia Cathedral” (aka St Michael’s Eritrean Orthodox Church, pop. 3000), that for the whole year i’ve lived here, we haven’t had a single service except on sundays— and often enough not even on sundays, not least because the few priests we have are forever going to Greece. We won’t even have services here for Pascha and Pentecost this year. Orthodoxy is a Greek religion, and for those who can, it’s best experienced in Greece. So— “Go Forth (porefthentes)!“— Go to Greece!

Invasion!

Officially, the Russian “invasion”, as Alexandria calls it, has to do with the schism between the Greek and Russian blocs in the church over Istanbul’s recognition of the Ukrainian nationalist church. But of course, behind all “official” explanations, the Alexandrian, Constantinopolitan, and Muscovite involvements with American and Russian foreign policy are obvious to anyone with eyes to see— or who knows about a certain Freedom of Information release.

One hardly needs to speculate that tiny beleaguered churches struggling to survive under hostile Islamic regimes may take practical decisions that are at some odds with what they might do in sunnier eras. Maybe that’s why Elpidiphoros recently managed to compare Trump to St Emperor Constantine. But in my own impetuous lack of good sense, i image that ours may be a time for witness, not for diplomatic alignments, and that the latter aren’t doing us any good anyway.

“Witness”, however, in Greek, is ‘martyria / μαρτυρία’— martyrdom— which doesn’t include preserving ancient privileges or sometimes even earthly existence. But all that’s above my pay grade. The main thing is to proclaim the good news of Jesus, the Messiah.

And that’s exactly what I don’t see happening and why i don’t foresee the Russians as likely to succeed in bringing Christianity to Africa any better than the Greeks have, unless they change their ways and start teaching the Bible.

Let’s take the girl in Jeddah as a warning— even three baptisms did not make her a Christian, and in fact, it was clear she had no idea what Christianity is. So, buy all the priests you want, and increase your magic sacraments— but just know that Islam is growing very rapidly. Only One God is a lot easier for people to accept than Only One God in Trinity.

So if you can’t show why we have to speak of God in Trinity, you’re not ready for ordination. We need people who can make clear what the Church’s experience of God is, as the apostles and prophets reported it in the Scriptures, and for sure I don’t know a single priest here who can do that.

Because you can’t talk about the Trinity One in Being and Undivided, before you talk about the Trinity in Scripture.

Building churches

His Eminence Archbishop Jonah Lwanga of Kampala (d. 2021) lays the foundation stone of Orthodoxy’s future Aghia Sophia Cathedral in 2019, with His Excellency Yoweri K Museveni, President of Uganda. The cathedral, intended to be a replica of the famous Hagia Sophia Church in Istanbul, will have a capacity of 2,500 and was projected to cost $4.5 million (17 billion Ugandan shillings) at the time this picture was taken. This figure is now given as €7.5 million euros, or $8.1 million dollars. Mr Museveni (at the Archbishop’s right) pledged $106,000 toward its construction, and to help with fundraising.

A friend of mine is the “catechist” at one of our parishes. Being a “catechist” here is a big thing. You have a title, and you get a robe. What you don’t get is any kind of training or support.

This particular catechist— who by the way really ought to be trained and ordained, because he’s actually passionate about serving the Church— this particular catechist started a small sub-parish in a village some distance away from his main church. At first they were meeting in people’s houses. But then he found that some of the people there didn’t really like each other. If the service was in one family’s house, one guy wouldn’t come. If in his, one of the founders wouldn’t come. If elsewhere, neither would come. And so forth. With only five or six families, that’s a community in trouble.

So his solution was to get a small plot of land and construct a church out of eucalyptus poles and iron sheets. Now, everyone could come to a neutral place for “Orthodox Services”.

But for some months more lately, my friend has been working in Kampala. And the rains are hard and the termites many, so we learned that the tin tabernacle had collapsed. And no one there could lead lay services anyway; and besides that, there are no books, so— ah well, like everybody else, we’re all “Born Again” anyway— so what does it matter.

Note the pattern, though— instead of building community, instead of helping people to love and serve one another and even their enemies, my friend built a building.

I’m not blaming him. I get an Orthodox missionary journal where a nearby bishop writes, “We offer what we can to our unpaid Priests and our collaborators”, and then appeals for money to build a somewhat fancy “spiritual center”, “The creation of spiritual centers in every area where the word of God is sown is imperative and necessary.” He does not appeal for help in paying the priests, and not much if any teaching at all is going on even in the buildings he has. But I think people just don’t know where else to start.

As I mentioned, there are not enough priests for services here at the future Aghia Sophia, and we have a congregation of around 10, of whom 5 are little kids— but we’re fundraising for a €7-million-euro cathedral in a location that’s actually not very easy to reach without some commitment.

Just for perspective, St Michael’s Eritrean Church, presently using a church they built on the Aghia Sophia property at the former Archbishop’s invitation, usually draws 3,000 people (compared to our 10 people) on every big feast day, and at least a five hundred nearly every day during Lent.

But instead of paying priests and training community organizers to proclaim God’s good news concerning the poor (Isa 61.1; Lk 4.18), or announcing the reign, or rather, government of the risen Messiah throughout the surrounding burbs, we’re raising seven million euros to build a grand new Cathedral.

It doesn’t seem to occur to anyone to spend even one of those seven million on training and supporting our few remaining priests and catechists, or on publishing pamphlets, icons, or prayerbooks, or on building community.

There are probably not three thousand Orthodox in Uganda, whether “Greek” or “Russian”. Costs being as low as they are here— can you even imagine what a million euros could do?

But of course, to print materials, someone would have to write materials. To build community, we could use some skilled community organizers. And really no one here is capable of either writing or organizing. So we build buildings, and they stand empty.

So how do we start?

Well, you have to actually teach people. And today, you have to teach them the Story. I mean the one in the Bible.

We’re hardly doing that anywhere in the Orthodox world. Paul and his Philippian women (Ac 16.13) initially met down by the river to discuss the Messiah. We can assume they built their own church later on, but they didn’t start by building one, and Paul didn’t get involved in it when they did. They built it themselves when they got tired of the rain. I’m speculating, of course, but you know i’m right.

We have to teach the Story, which is the story of the Messiah in the Bible. And the story of the Messiah is the one that emerges from the story of Israel. Israel was a Semitic tribe in the ancient Middle East. They were not baGanda striving to live their “everyday lives”. Nor were they Americans dreaming about Theosis.

So we do have to understand and talk to people from inside their culture, but let’s not pretend that Abraham was a muGanda or a Westerner living his everyday life! The question is, what does his story have to do with our story?

Well, the short answer is, we’re invited to join it.

Now let’s sacrifice the sacred cow

The practice of bringing Greeks and Russians here to build a Greek or Russian church and then to consecrate it in Greek with a Greek entourage in front of a local audience— not a congregation!— who only passively watch the show from their plastic chairs, has long outlived whatever usefulness it may once have had. But i’ve seen this; indeed my name is on a slip of paper inside of three altars in this country.

Yet Africa has something to tell even highly overeducated people like me. Leaving them mere spectators isn’t going to help us hear it. And from our side, we need to get clear about what we’re doing here. The Story we have to tell is first of all the one in the Bible. Not even the one in the Philokalia, and certainly not the story of Greece! And to carry on about Greece is no longer innocent.

Yet the story being told in this picture arguably gets far more play in our Church than the one in the Bible—

Greek Independence Day— or, um, let me start again. This is the Feast of the Annunciation of Christ’s Incarnation at the Patriarchate of Alexandria this year. Apologies for the poor quality of the image— it’s a screen cap from a video. The man in the middle is the Patriarch.

(Greek OXI! Day in Kampala. Note the kids in the background and the decorative flags above them.)

Where catechesis is lacking, this nonsense is nothing other than idolatry. But see the picture from the patriarchate. Isn’t that where the idolatry starts? And it’s one reason the Russians are doing so well— they didn’t come to preach Russia. Btw, I don’t mean to single anyone out in particular, in these pictures. The problem is not limited to Uganda, or even to Africa. But the young recognize it as a problem, and they do complain about it!

The Bible

It’s very hard to find any interest among the Orthodox “faithful” here— even among the clergy— in the Bible. Everybody already knows what the Bible is— it’s just a book of moral advice that you “apply to your everyday life”. And so the Liturgy, the Practice, and the Community become part of this other story that’s about me and my petty “everyday life”.

The Bible, though, is its own story— one story— one story!— not a collection of random tales that we can allegorize morally so as to “apply them to our everyday lives”.

The Bible is Israel’s own story of her exile with her One Creator God in the desert of Empire— and the arrival, right there, of God’s government “as in the sky, even on the land”. Memorize that!

It is Israel’s story, not our story, and we’re invited to join it. It’s an ongoing story. And it’s an objective story.

If we can step away for a moment from this obsession with ourselves, our “daily lives”, and our own (or someone else’s!) nationalistic pride, and engage directly with the old texts that we call the Bible—

—we will find ourselves standing among dead prophets who have come to life not as the fortune-tellers we always thought they were, but as living witnesses who saw something.

Then, having seen through their words what they saw, we can re-enter our own world, and assume the destiny that has placed us here, as their heirs— here  in this moment, in this Uganda— or wherever you are in this fraught moment of history.

Through their texts, we can visit something that once existed somewhere else and is no more, that has disappeared forever. We will not find our “daily lives” there. We will not find the baGanda there, or the Americans, or the Greeks or colonial Britain and all its prudishness.

And when we stand in that circle of prophets, we will see more clearly that this very world in which we ourselves live today emerged from their world.

And we will understand that if their world ceased to exist, then our own does not need to exist either, and in fact is coming to an end.

And we’ll see not only that change is inevitable, but that the change that those prophets called for even then, is actually possible and desirable now.

Our task is to figure out how, then, to live in and even change this, our own world.

None of this— and therefore almost nothing of Christianity— much less Orthodoxy— has ever arrived in Africa. We come, speaking Greek or Latin or French or American— or now, Russian— talking about how Isaiah “predicted” Jesus, or how Revelation predicts the end of the world, but as far as I know, no one has ever asked, how Africans might respond to the good news that Jesus announced— the arrival of “God’s government— on the land as in the sky“? In general, empires aren’t very interested in other governments anyway, except as collaborators.

Africans are not stunted Europeans or Yankees. Most have never seen even a picture of the Mona Lisa, heard Mozart, or smelled Japanese incense. They’ve never heard of Marx or the Iliad, or, astonishingly, of E=mc², either. But they’d sure like another government, another Empire.

And they’ve heard the Bible— sort of. Many Churches have brought their bibles and their dogmas both true and false, but never reciprocated by listening to, much less inhabiting, the stories of Kintu and Naambi, the First Couple in kiGanda myth, or understood how the story of the Son of Man might strike the sons of Kintu. And, by the way, there are 65 tribes in Uganda alone, each with its own language and stories and worldview— so, 65 Kintus.

Now we Orthodox have come, speaking of the “Trinity One in Being and Undivided”— but if the languages we’re trying to speak have no word for “Being”, how will we have any extended discourse on the Trinity One in Being?

Even if we could get masses of people to memorize some catechetical dogmas and then baptize them, we would not be building a church; still less the Church. Still less would we do so by baptizing them without teaching them anything at all.

But today, more than ever before, we have to listen to people speak from their own experience. Only in their own context will people ever learn to think with those non-fortune-telling prophets

The violence we’ve adopted, hoping to be heard

Now, the nonsense i will link to next is not only worse than what you see in the pictures above, it’s the direct result of that idolatry, a sign of desperation, and an indicator of degradation and collapse indeed. It’s from Tiktok:—

Syndesmos Day at St Makarios Seminary in Nairobi, Kenya

The challenge is that no one can imagine something they’ve never experienced. That’s why, for example, our liturgy here is so poor. No one’s ever seen a good one. Moreover, no one’s ever modeled pitch or harmony.

Likewise, the result of teaching people that the Bible is about our “everyday lives” or, alternatively, that it’s about something mysterious and scattershot called “typology” (the “patristic” approach), is that nobody has ever been exposed to what the Liturgy or the Scripture were about in their own right. And that is our problem.

The “born-again” solution now popular in the Nairobi seminary at first sight may seem more fun, but ultimately it is sheer violence and pandering. Because a loudspeaker is ultimately about domination, and who ever loved by force? And yes, once the fun stops, what have we learned?

“At least there is hope for a tree”

—That’s Job 14.7. The prophet continues, “If it’s cut down, it will sprout again, and its new shoots will not fail.”

In fact I had a very hopeful conversation with a priest the other day, perhaps the first one since i came here a year and a half ago.

He wanted to understand why Jesus had to turn bread and wine into his body and blood, and I was able to nail it it down with him, because he’d shown me 18 years ago what he was really asking.

I read somewhere that it took 1300 years for the Greek Fathers to digest the Bible, so i don’t think i’ve just now brought the whole of the Good News to Africa, but kindly indulge for a moment with me in the thought that we might just have just seen the bud of a shoot from a dying tree.

Because my friend came away with an understanding of Covenant.

Walk on both feet

Stories aren’t enough, though. To practical people in dire need, we have to show practical love. We have to feed and house and facilitate and cure and educate— even sacrificially. We have to be with people for people, as the fathers said of Jesus.

So this is the mission of the Church i’m asking you to support. I’ll keep trying to teach, but please— I’m really serious about needing your help for all these people i help.

At this very minute, I need another $2000. Once again i have only $4 in all accounts. So please help. We kept a young man from losing his job because of a natural disaster last week. We kept a woman and her 4 kids from being evicted, but we need another $200 for other arrears and meds.

We have four babies in the hospital and 4 more people who need to be in the hospital. Our orphans in Congo need $1000 immediately for rent and food.

Community and good news are in short supply. Let’s increase the volume.

Yes, emergencies— everything is chaos and disaster and emergency.

But the future is as bright as God’s promise.

And for better or worse, people give to causes that demonstrate success, so let’s go ahead demonstrate it!

Please give your gift here

Hey.

Before I get into my story, I especially owe a couple of you some big thanks (and you know who you are). It’s taken a while to assemble all the pictures I had to show you, but let me get that out of the way first—

You are really are awesome. No it’s really true— as you’re about to find out!

So ok— on to this month’s episode (ha hah, like i send these out every month!). I fear i’m about to abuse you by making this too long, but read on, because i think you’ll find it fascinating, if not heart-wrenching.

So here we go.

Patrick in Congo

Someday I’m going to write the whole story of Patrick and me. It started in Johannesburg in 2010, so it’d be very long, but for now, let’s just start in Congo, a month or so after he completed his training as a driver of giant mining trucks. This was last year. Here’s Patrick:

Patrick was on his way to a job interview on the back of a motó (motorcycle taxi), when Ghislain, the motó driver, mistakenly pulled out right in front of a big truck.

Of course the motó was crushed, and so were Ghislain’s legs; Patrick was badly banged up but (thank God) nothing serious. Both were taken to the hospital but Patrick was released after a day. Patrick’s wife, Christelle, and their son, Blessing, were very relieved to have him home alive. By the way, Patrick and Christelle have since had a daughter, Julianne. So here are Blessing and Julianne. Cute kids!:

The thing about Chinese hospitals in Congo, though, is that they run more or less like auto shops. You bring your car in and say, “Fix the water pump”. They’ll do it, but unless you tell them to check your carburetor too, they won’t even look at it. And anyway, repairs are quid pro quo, cash up front— no cash, no repair. So the hospital didn’t even bother to check Ghislain’s concussion, and he died from brain swelling two days later. Their excuse?— “How could a poor man pay for that kind of treatment anyway.”

Ghislain and Nicolette

Ghislain was from the poorest class of people in Congo. He didn’t really have any relatives in the area, was illiterate, and spoke neither French nor his tribal language of tschiLuba, but only Swahili, which is a mix of Arabic and the baNtu languages common to East Africa. What this means is that he had no people, no culture, no roots— and this in turn suggests that he came from a family blown apart in Congo’s mostly unknown World War 3.

Anyway Ghislain had been supporting a wife and seven kids on the $50 a month he got from driving his rented motó; his wife brought in a few dollars by selling tomatoes in the market also. The wife’s name was Nicolette. I know all this because i asked Patrick about him when they were in the hospital and got the whole story. How could anyone hear all this and not be moved by what his death would mean for the eight people who depended on Ghislain?

So i started adding another $50 to the support i was sending Patrick while he looked for employment (part of the saga of how they’d come back from Johannesburg). At least Nicolette and her kids would keep going as before, though this wasn’t going to lift anybody out of poverty! But I couldn’t do much better than that, as we have some 20 other kids whose school fees or other needs are constantly coming due in Uganda and South Africa. Maybe in the future, I thought, we can get at least one of them into school. Anyway, here’s Nicolette and Ghislain in the hospital:

Back to Patrick

Christelle sometimes tells me Patrick “thinks too much”. Meaning: he worries a lot. Of course, in his situation, who wouldnt? Well, some time after he’d recovered from the accident, he “fell down” (passed out) on the street and got taken to the hospital. Many Africans have severe ulcers— something to do with h. Pylori, i think. The hospital got him going again, and he left with a prescription. But the pharmacist had apparently faked his pharmacy degree, and filled it with a drug that nearly killed him. When he recovered from that (more hospital), he went to drag the guy to the police but he’d disappeared. Apparently he actually had killed someone else in the meanwhile.

Well, after getting his meds straightened out, Patrick did ok for a while, but then he “fell down” again. Turns out he’d been suffering for some years from a herniated groin and something had gone seriously wrong. He hadn’t wanted to tell me because he knew it would be an expensive procedure, but the doctor told him, Either we operate now or you die. So ok! We operate now!

Well, the doctor left something inside him, the wound got septic, and they had to open him up again. But at least the hospital didn’t charge this time. Anyway, Patrick got all sorted out and now he’s ok, except he has to take medicine every day and be careful about his diet.

A Tragic Visit from Grandma

While all this is going on, Nicolette’s mother comes down from Goma to help out with the kids. Goma is some 1100 miles north of Lubumbashi (Congo is vast), right near the southwest corner of Uganda. It’s also one of the areas where there are occasional outbreaks of ebola, and guess what. Grandma no sooner gets to Nicolette’s than she comes down with ebola and dies, but not before giving it to two of the kids. One of them dies, the other is quarantined and survives. So Nicolette now has six kids, ages 15, 12, 11, 9, and twins of almost 6, and no mom.

Christelle Visits the Hospital— Twice!

A couple a months go by and Christelle calls me up. I can tell from her voice that she’s “not good” (even though her English isn’t very good either). Turns out she’s got appendicitis. Bang! There goes another $100!

She comes home, is mending well, goes out to take care of some business, and “falls down” in the street. This time I tell Patrick to take her to the Catholic sisters’ hospital, which is cheaper. They cut her open from hip to breast and remove a fibroid tumor of 5 lbs. The Chinese who took out her appendix saw it, but they didn’t even bother telling her about it because, “You don’t have the money to pay for it anyway”. I pay the sisters a couple hundred dollars— the Chinese would have demanded $2000— and she comes home after a week or so. I’ll spare you the picture of Christelle in the hospital; she has a very long wound and an even longer tube.

Nicolette’s 12 year old is a girl named Prisca. About a month ago, Prisca came to Patrick to bring some tomatoes and to get the $50 i’d just sent. While she was there, Congo went on lockdown because of corona, and public transport ceased. Since Nicolette lives in a rather deep village, Prisca now becomes a semi-permanent member of Patrick’s family. Fortunately, they have a sectional couch she can sleep on, not very comfortable but it will do. Here’s Christelle and Prisca:

And here’s a challenge for you— how are we supposed to get the money to Nicolette and the other kids now, during lockdown? Well, read on!

Mulumba and the Tomatoes

A little later, the oldest boy, Blanchard Mulumba, 15, takes his mom’s tomatoes to market. On his way back, there’s an armed robbery and he takes a bullet in the leg. I’ll spare you that picture; as Patrick put it, “You won’t eat meat again— I’m telling you!”

The police take him to the Chinese hospital, but by now i know the Chinese love neither humanity nor mercy but only money, so when Patrick tells me all this, i text back, “PLEASE arrange for Mulumba to transfer to the Catholic sisters’ hospital TOMORROW!” I send $300 to pay the Chinese (for one night!) and Patrick negotiates another $250 with the sisters, who expect they’ll have to keep Mulumba for two months. You can imagine what keeping him with the Chinese for two months would cost.

Of course, Patrick has to take food to him every day; the hospital doesn’t feed its patients. But Patrick has a friend with a motó, so this costs only a liter of gas and a couple of dollars every now and again, plus of course the food.

But a few days later Patrick texts me to let me know that Nicolette has come down with coronavirus and the soldiers have quarantined the family.

So I text back, “i’m guessing prisca is still with you, yes? So who is taking care of the other kids?”

Patrick writes, “I’m the one whom taking care of the 2 kids [Mulumba and Prisca], those other kids they are under control of government for checking them because they was staying the same place with the mom.”

Patrick also mentions that two chinese guys were murdered outside his house that morning. “They find the bodies in the morning. Is like they beat them.” Hmmm. I guess i’m not the only person who thinks the Chinese aren’t doing Africa many favors. But then, nobody is doing Africa many favors. Congo is the richest country on the planet, but— you’re getting the picture of life as the locals experience it.

Patrick Becomes a Dad Again

Then on May 7, Patrick texts me, “Hi John I’m phoning you but you wasn’t answering me, you can call me back please, Nicolette shes gone, she leave this morning call me when you get the message please.”

In other words, Nicolette has died. Patrick will have to break the news to Mulumba in the hospital and Prisca at home.

“Because They Are Human Beings”

The kids who were quarantined for corona meanwhile test negative and have been released. On hearing of Nicolette’s death, one of their neighbors took the twins, but couldn’t take the others. So Patrick volunteers. “I had to take those other ones too because they are human beings, we can’t just let them go on the street.” It seems traumatic to tear a family apart like that but what can we do?

So now Patrick has four of Ghislain’s kids—

• Blanchard Mulumba, 15, in the hospital, who doesn’t yet know about his mom;
• Prisca Mulumba, almost 13,
• Enoch Kabeya, 11,
• Stino Katende, 9;

and two of his own,

• Blessing, who just turned 5, and
• Julianne, 7 months.

Christelle sent me a picture of Patrick (center) with Enoch and Stino; “They are making a vegetable”, she wrote:

One Big, Happy Family— in Two Rooms

I’d already told Patrick i wanted him to get an apartment closer to the sisters’ hospital, in case there are any more medical troubles. Fortunately, he found a two-room that costs only $50/month more than he’s paying now— and it even has water. Two rooms will be big enough to accommodate all of eight of them for now. But he needs three new mattresses— the boys can sleep two to a bed, but the girl can’t sleep with them. Even a cheap foam mattress costs $70 in Lubumbashi. Everything is surprisingly expensive there, because it’s a mining town with lots of foreign money in circulation. In fact the local currency is the US dollar.

Fortunately, some people (thank you again!) sent some unexpected contributions, so i paid the rent and sent the $210 for mattresses. The kids are no longer sleeping on the bare floor. But I’m beginning to wonder how eight people can live in two rooms. Patrick hasn’t said anything though.

Alas! Mulumba!

Patrick didn’t immediately tell Mulumba about his mom. Like, what do you say to a young man who’s been shot up, is in the hospital, and no doubt wishing his mother could bend over him once again and press her hand to his brow?—

“Sorry, buddy. You’ve already seen your mom for the last time ever.”— ??

Here is one sad young man, the firstborn of seven, who found out a day earlier that he’s lost his mom.

Are you heartbroken yet?

I sure am.

The guy in the green shirt is Patrick. He’s sad here of course, but you can see from his other picture at the top of this story, that he’s a very likeable fellow with a charming, round Congolese baby face, a sweet disposition, and a good sense of humor. You may also be surprised to learn that he’s also a black belt in judo. I can tell some other stories about that, but i won’t. I will say that, in getting to know Patrick, I came to understand why Congolese masks are often very round:

Anyway, throughout all of this, i’ve never heard Patrick complain, except once or twice he’s wondered why God is making them go through so many fiery trials. But he accepts it and soldiers on. He often gets up at 4 in the morning to go and pray for all these people and for the Africa Fund and its contributors— i.e., for YOU, dear contributor— at the grotto in front of the local Catholic church, which is otherwise closed because of lockdown.

St Nicholas in Congo

So it looks like your St Nicholas Africa Fund now has a branch in Congo. Our first task, apart from helping Patrick and Christelle get working after the country opens up— and Christelle could open a beauty salon if we had $1500 for licensing, tools, and rent— will be to get the kids speaking French and English. They’re already working on that. Later, we’ll have to think about some kind of education and job skills. Mulumba is already old enough to start working at 15, but if possible i want him to at least be fully literate and capable of math. And apparently he’s got a little French and can already read somewhat. One step at a time, though!

The Odds in “Deepest, Darkest Africa”

You may remember those racist, pre-Disney cartoons we used to see on tv in the 50s. The place they always called “Deepest Darkest Africa” was basically the Belgian Congo. There’s some truth to that, not in the sense that the land is filled with black natives dancing around cauldrons of boiling missionaries, spears in hand and bones in noses— but in terms of the deep, dark social realities of neo-colonialism. Congo is the richest country on the planet when it comes to natural endowment, but in terms of the economic realities that its people face, it is indeed still “Deepest Darkest Africa”!

Yet as i hope you can tell from Patrick’s story, the people who were born there are for the most part the most patient, gentle, and good-natured folks you could ever meet. It’s a real privilege to help them gain skills, find work, and figure out how to survive and make a living amid the most impossible circumstances created by our greed for Congo’s wealth. Critical parts of your cellphone come from Patrick’s district and nowhere else! But the Congolese get nothing from it, of course.

Defying the Odds

It’s been a very expensive year for the Africa Fund so far, not least because of Patrick and his family. Yet Congo has always been a sort of side-project; our main work has always (mostly) been supporting education in Uganda. We’ve been able to respond to the extent we have, for the most part only because we haven’t had to pay Uganda school fees during lockdown.

And this past month we paid for a critical breast cancer operation in Kampala, and hospitalized seven members of a family of eight, who’d come down with typhoid and malaria. Everyone is recovering well thanks to your help. But the thing is, the Uganda government has yet to come up with the promised lockdown assistance, and some of our people badly need food. We’ve helped them too— and we’re preparing to do so again— but Uganda is starting to open up (even as numbers are starting to head north!), so we’ll see how we manage as we go forward.

South Africa is opening up too, and we have a university student there, with a $500 payment due next month!

By the way, here’s Claver Kwenzongo, another South Africa student that we helped out a while back—

He’s on his own now. This is the sort of thing that gives us a sense of accomplishment!

Lemme tellya though, sometimes we get to the bottom of the barrel. How often I’ve prayed, “They’re your kids, Lord, and all the money in the world is yours; you know we have nothing, you take care of them— and pardon me, because i’m sure you don’t need reminding— but the bills are due!”

Well, and never, in the 16 years we’ve been doing this, has Jesus ever let us down. The fact astonishes me, actually. The theologian in me wants to sermonize about God’s faithfulness, but i’m all too aware that people do suffer on a level that gives lie to all our easy answers. I don’t know how it works. But i can say that it does work— because of YOU.

The Bottom Line

God’s reign comes into being through YOU— YOUR generosity, YOUR compassion. So it’s time for me and Patrick and his family and all the kids in Uganda to say Thank You again.

Oh, and by the way, Mambo, our faithful project manager in Kampala, badly needs a new computer ($350).

But I hope that, through what i’ve written, you’ve seen how you’ve done an astonishing amount of good, more than you ever guessed. I doubt you were keeping count, but I’ve just explained how you’ve directly rescued some fourteen people, ten from death, and two of those more than once. Well, and we lost a couple too. But we press on.

Please be generous.

And btw, in case you’re interested, check out this story for insight into the coronavirus in Africa.

Thank you.
And let’s keep going!

Because Jesus Christ himself thanks you.

ST NICHOLAS AFRICA FUND

John Burnett, Director

CLICK HERE TO CONTRIBUTE—
http://stnicholasmarin.org/africafund/!

Here is a card that we had printed for John Burnett’s Gospel of Mark Workshop at Holy Virgin Cathedral, 59 East 2nd Street, New York, on February 23 and March 1, 2020. Mr Burnett offers an in-depth study of the Gospel of Mark in order to raise funds for the Africa Program.

February 2, 2020

Brothers and Sisters:

2019 saw more activity than any previous year for the Africa Fund, and brought many successes, both academic, vocational, and business-related. While we continue to help many students with their primary, secondary, and even university careers, a number of previous students are now launching their families and careers, and we have been able to help them get established. This is a great thing because, in our experience, when one person has a job, about eleven can eat.
Here is a summary of our activity over the past year:

• We gave small grants to help Thomas Kisembo start a shoe store in Fort Portal, Uganda. He is now able to support his family.

• We also collected money for a similar grant to Godfrey Lubega to start a clothing store in Arua, Uganda, although the grant was actually given just after the turn of this year.

• We’re in the process of helping Joel Ssali launch a café (he is already in the catering business, based partly on a grant we gave a couple of years ago);

• This café will employ Namala Jessica, .who herself has been trying to help a number of poor and old people in her village. In this way, our work is being extended by our previous recipients

• Patrick Mufuta in Lubumbashi, DR Congo is now licensed to drive big mining trucks.

• Kisekka Constantine in Uganda is licensed to drive a taxi.

• Sergios Mugume has begun training as an auto mechanic; and

• John Mubiru completed his first year in the same trade.

• Richard Adome has begun his medical training to become the first MD in his county in central Uganda.

• Cissy Akugizibwe completed her first year in Mathematics at Ndejje University.

• Anyomo Phiona completed her program in catering.

• Ephraim Kanyemba started his degree in Computer Science in South Africa.

• Judith Namukuta graduated in December with her nursing degree.

• Azizi Mukasa completed his second year at a university in Turkey, and hopes to be accepted into an exchange program in Germany this coming summer.

2019 also brought major health issues to a number of our beneficiaries:

Patrick Mufuta in the Congo was involved in a motorcycle accident, and we paid hospitalization for both him and the motorcycle driver, who unfortunately died, leaving an illiterate and destitute widow and seven children, two of whom contracted ebola; one died and the other was hospitalized and cured, but was discovered to have acute tuberculosis. We were able to take care of these expenses. Patrick himself was later hospitalized several times for severe ulcers and other issues. Patrick’s son was hospitalized for typhoid and malaria. We also helped to deliver his second child. In Uganda, Namala Jessica was hospitalized for hepatitis and again for malaria and again for typhoid. We can truthfully say that we saved four lives, a couple of them twice.

Total disbursements to Africa this year, excluding fees, came to 38,961.00. This is the most we have ever sent in one year. Remittance fees and other overhead expenses came to 1,999.76, or about 5% of money received.

It’s actually quite remarkable what we’ve accomplished half a world away. Your generosity has educated and fed and touched an untold number of people. Jesus Christ himself thanks you.

Let’s keep up the good work!
ST NICHOLAS AFRICA FUND

John Burnett, Director

“When you give alms, God becomes your debtor.”— St John Chrysostom
Go to http://stnicholasmarin.org/african-education-fund/ to help!

Hey.

It’s hard to keep track of all that your contributions are doing—

• In addition to supporting ten Uganda primary and secondary students, we’re also
• the sole support of two university students (one girl is brilliant in math!), a nursing student (graduating this month!), and
• a full-on medical student in Uganda— he will become the first-ever MD in his county;
• we’ve partially supported a Congolese refugee pre-med student at a university in South Africa;
• we’ve literally saved three lives in Congo and Uganda by paying for major medical treatments (but alas, couldn’t save another— and now we’re helping his widow and seven children);
• helped to deliver a baby; and
• helped two people in Uganda start small businesses, which are successful.
• We also have three Uganda kids in good vocational schools, and another, in Congo, just graduated.

Stephen (back) and Philip (front) are just beginning to realize what’s possible.

Hello again from the St Nicholas Africa Fund!
Hey friends. Big story spanning Texas, California, Utah, and Uganda— and a definite encouragement from God!—

Our strong supporter Charles proposed a while back that with existing online tools and resources and a little mentoring we should be able to bring a couple of African students up to professional-level programming skills in less than a year. He and his company had done this with a few of kids in Texas, so why not in Africa? All they needed was a little aptitude.

So I said, Game on!— and we’ve been setting up a computer programming boot camp in Kampala!

Charles found a couple of used MacBook Pros, both in great shape, at about $800 each, and loaded them with all the software and videos they’d need to get started.

I picked Stephen Ojuku, one of my former seminarians, and Philip Atuhire, who was just a high school kid when I was in Kampala, but who recently graduated from Makerere University with an IT degree, to be our first students. Africa’s IT students don’t always have much experience with actual computers unless they own one, which Philip didn’t. But he has the idea anyway, and I’d made Stephen learn touch-typing.

Stephen is an Itesot tribesman, and Philip is muNyankore— both minorities in Uganda— so we’re already an equal-opportunity school! (and if we do this again, we’ll choose women from two other tribes.)

Next I had Billy Mambo, our Kampala Program Manager, find a secure apartment. We settled on a second-floor unit just behind the Orthodox cathedral in Namunggoona, which is nice, because Stephen is Orthodox, and can readily be part of the community there, and Philip’s family (not Orthodox) is nearby too.

Now this is where the adventure began.

We were expecting that shipping would be a little pricey, but we were not prepared to learn that lithium batteries are considered hazmat, and that it would cost us at least as much to ship the computers as they’d cost in the first place!
In fact, it turns out, we could take those same computers in carry-on baggage and deliver them ourselves for less than the cost of shipping!

But only because my sister has a couple of friends who work with Delta. They helped me get to Africa last time— but it’s been some years, and summer was peak season! But I got in touch to see if they could get me a standby flight to Dallas, where our contributor had the computers, and then on to Africa.
But— ooops!— need to renew my passport! And get booster shots! Believe me, it starts to add up pretty quick!

Well, just about the time I was getting ready to pull out my credit card (uh oh), a nice Romanian lady visited our church here in San Anselmo. We got to chatting and I mentioned our Africa project, and she said her church (Open Door Church in San Rafael) was sending a mission to Africa in August. So I asked, Where to? And she said, Uganda.

—Uganda??! This must be from God!!! Quick, what’s their contact info??!!!

Well you can imagine how today’s severely restricted baggage allowances might make an already overpacked mission a little shy of enthusiastic about some stranger’s extra luggage. But after thinking about it, Jon Riley, their assistant pastor, told me he had such a heart for Uganda that he’d just make it happen for us!

But now we had to get the computers from Dallas to San Rafael— within one week!— and remember, we can’t ship them by plane! So I have to go to Dallas and back. Within a week.
But this point, my sister’s friend got back to me. Turned out her daughter lives in Dallas, and would be coming to visit in three days! And she could then just fly out to the Bay Area on her special pass, bring the computers to me, enjoy dinner in SF before heading back!

So just as i was poised to spend some $3,000 on a trip to Africa, the whole episode collapsed into the cost of a couple gallons of gas and an $8 bridge fare, and voilà, Jon Riley was in the air to Uganda with our computers before the week was out!

And the very next day, as you can see in the picture below, Stephen and Philip were already emailing me and exploring the Terminal program under Charles’ direction.

Now, how’s that for divine providence?

Of course, we have to get the whole project stably funded. Rent, utilities, security, stipends for our two full-time students, internet (expensive in Africa), and miscellaneous expenses will come to about $800/month. About half of this is already covered, but we sure do hope you will step forward to help with the rest. Click this button— and please consider making an automatic monthly contribution!—

Earning professional money for professional services, will be a game-changer not just for our students and their whole families, but for Africa. I don’t know of another “boot camp” like this anywhere on the continent. If our program works— and for three months now it’s been very smooth— we’re going to expand and multiply. Even some of Charles’ programmer buddies are very interested in our potential.

So— RIGHT NOW you have the chance to do something really astonishing— maybe your next app will even be Proudly Programmed in Africa! and you’ll know you were part of that game-changing story.

By the way, in addition to our 2 programming students, the St Nicholas Uganda fund is also currently supporting—

• 1 pre-med student
• 1 nursing student
• 2 university students (computers; accounting)
• 6 high school students, and
• 8 primary students
• 1 refugee family in South Africa (and btw, we could really use some help with this!)

We’ve also made grants or loans to 3 entrepreneurs, to help get businesses started— and one of whom is doing so well in his snacks business, that he’s just paid back his third loan ahead of schedule! (I’m even thinking of investing in him privately!)

You won’t get another chance to impact people as directly or as personally as this— so please click this button and become a partner in this all-important work!—

So, back in 2009, a guy named Mubiru Bazirios emailed me— that’s ‘Basilios’ in Greek, or ‘Basil’ in English, but luGanda speakers tend to spell phonetically and have trouble with r’s and l’s, like the Japanese. The grandfather after whom he’s named was a son of Uganda’s very first Orthodox priest, and a priest himself. I understand that he’d been poisoned a few years before i arrived— I never did find out why, but it seemed especially unfortunate, the way people always talked about him. He’d even been to seminary in Russia, which is very unusual since the African church is so closely tied to Greece. Wished i could have met him.

But as i said, “our” Bazirios, the grandson, wrote in 2009:

—”am in 11th grade, in the sciences track…. I need to continue my studies. Now sir you are my saviour because i have searched from all the corners of the country and you are my last destination. Sir, please find my request worthy because i need to be a good man in future, and i beg you on my knees because the situation is worst than usual. If you consider it, i shall do my best to make you happy.”

Heartbreaking— but still— he makes you smile a bit, doesn’t he?

Well, unfortunately, we didn’t have the funds, and so Bazirios dropped out with only two years of high school to go. If the money were there, he could still go back even now— 30-year-old high school students are not so uncommon in Uganda— but what I didn’t know at the time was that, nine years earlier (2000), at age 15, he’d already gotten a wife, and that by the time he wrote they’d already had 4 kids. So failing to finish school was a serious setback for more than just himself. Still, what could we do.

But Bazirios is a cheerful fellow, despite his struggles. He likes to write songs and sing, and when he discovered me on Facebook, he took to trying out whatever random Greek phrases he’d pick up from the occasional visitor. Not always… successfully….

Well, about a year after that 2009 email, his brother Jonah disappeared. They traced him to to Ssese Island in Lake Victoria, where the locals told them that, as strangers there often do, he probably ended up getting sacrificed to the local gods. They never found any evidence, even with the police on the case, but that’s how he became responsible for Naluta Thecla, Jonah’s daughter.

You remember Thecla. About a year ago, a teacher knocked a little girl so hard, she dislocated her eyeball. We made an emergency appeal, and a couple of you stepped forward very generously and saved her eye. That girl was Thecla. I can’t remember whether I’ve already shown you her picture or not, but here she is, a real cutie:

Since 2009, Bazirios and his wife have had two more kids, so together with Thecla and sometimes Jonah’s son Mugumbya Jeremia (though he lives mainly with his mom), Bazirios now has 7 or 8 kids take care of. He also has to provide for his mom, who is severely diabetic, and his three siblings, Lukia, George, and Stavros. About George, more in a moment.

Let’s pause, though, for a little math break:

Bazirios has 6 kids of his own, 2 from Jonah, 3 younger siblings, his mother, his wife, and himself to take care of— that’s FOURTEEN people!! And— need we point out?— Uganda’s urban job market isn’t terribly kind to unskilled laborers, who comprise about 80% of the population.

But the story doesn’t begin or end there; far from it! I don’t want to make this email too long, so i’ll put the rest of his backstory (it’s really something!) here — but to tell you about the past couple of months, i’ll have to give you a couple of the highlights:

When Bazirios was a little boy, his father started beating his wife and 6 kids so bad that the mother took the kids and ran away. “We survived on cooked pawpaws [papaya], beging, picking eats from rubbish, snitching and steal the food from neighbours’ kids as they were eating, our mom could also beg for us to live”, he wrote.

But in 2013, times got so bad that they went back to his father to beg for help. Annoyed at the potential competition for her husband’s modest resources, his father’s new wife drove a nail into his brother Ssendija George’s head and swore she’d come after the rest of them as well. They fled. George survived, but he can’t do any heavy lifting; he could work in an office, but he’d need some training before he could get a job. That’s why Bazirios is still supporting him, though he’s 18.

So then last August:

—”KALIMERA SIR! MY BROTHER KIZITO MAKARIOS MARTIN, DIED AT NIGHT, BURRIAL IS TOMOROW 2: 00PM, AT THE HOME OF THE LATE REV FR BAZIRIOS NSUBUGA TANA AT MASANAFU, BUKULUGI ZONE. PRAY FOR HIM”

Did i know this Makarios? I knew one Makarios but i didn’t know if he was the same guy.

—”He looks just like me. You never surfaced him before. But he was killed by the [second wife] my aunts brought for our father. She bewitched him.”

Africans in general have a great fear of witchcraft. I don’t believe all the stories, but I don’t disbelieve some of them. So I can’t say much about “bewitching”. But after she pounded a nail into George’s head, I can see why Bazirios might think she was a witch. Anyway, he hinted that he needed help with the funeral expenses, so I told Mambo, our Program Manager in Uganda, to give him 100,000 UgX (about $30) to help out. That’s a lot of money in Uganda, but nowhere near what a funeral costs.

A few days later:

—”WE BURIED HIM ON SUNDAY, WHICH BIBLE VERSE CAN I READ ALWAYS FOR HIM?”

I told him, “We usually read the Book of Psalms.”

—”Thank you sir. All the psalms? I have to take care and educate all his 4 children, its all my responsibility. but i feel amuch load. Mr Mambo gave me 100k [$30] and iam going to give it to the 4 orphan’s school fees. Thanks alot, God-father, good night sir.”

WAIT!—

Did Bazirios just say he now has FOUR MORE kids from Makarios, in addition to the FOURTEENpeople he ALREADY HAS TO TAKE CARE OF???

That’s *NUTS*!!—

**EIGHTEEN PEOPLE!!!**—

And he’s *UNEMPLOYED*!!

—————

As I said, he’s usually pretty cheerful and in fact he complains so little that i got the whole picture only very recently. But his latest message was unexpectedly poignant:

—”So due to all, GOD sent me to your side. But why is it me with no job, academic document, condemned to surface all the probs and responsibilities? Coz now, i have to be with all these kids by all meanz, go to sch, eat, and medical. Can i say that GOD is punishing me / making me be a man at my sufering stuation?”

Mmm. Man. What would Jesus do?!

—Well, despite having a degree in theology, i have no idea what Jesus would do, but Bazirios and I got to discussing employment. Specifically, a vegetable shop. Eventually:

—”I found a good place suitable for the seling the stuffs, it can sell coz there are many peaple [there].

——————

So ok, dear friends, I think we’ve found a way to help Bazirios and his family write new chapter— one where hope dawns like a star in a very dark cave. (Had to say that, it’s Christmas!)

If we can get Bazirios and his wife set up in a little vegetable shop (my friend Joel Ssali also suggests a popcorn machine, which is a great idea), they can live there and take care of all their kids and siblings and mother (who by the way was just evicted). *We’ve already rented the shop*— but we need about $500 in startup capital.

And that’s for just ONE of our many projects!

Would you like to lend us a hand? Whatever you contribute will go directly to Mubiru’s family or to any other project you specify. And you will seriously be helping some real people in real need!

This is the backstory that Mubiru Bazirios sent me when I asked him to clarify the astonishing situation he reported to me after his brother George’s death. I’m posting it here as background for the newsletter i will send out shortly, whose contents I’ll post in the next article:

—”My names are Mubiru Bazirios, the son of Mr Ssegane Andrew, Ssegane Andrew is a son of the late Rev Fr Bazirios Nsubuga Tana. Fr Tana is the the son of the late Reuben Ssezimugumbya, the first reverend at the time when Orthodox Church came to Uganda. He taught catechism in the Pearl of Africa as being comanded by the late bishops Spartas and Theodoros, but the church didn’t help him so his children didn’t go to school.

“His son Andrew is my father, and my mother is Nalongo Maria Nakimera. We were born 6 alive and 3 died including twins. We never had what to eat, dad neither had a job nor our mam did have. Our dad was ever frustrated with no hope.

“We struggled to join school but we ever got sent back home for school charges. So we had to grow up biologically but when i reached 6th Grade, our dad started beating us badly. Jonah the firstborn ran away due to the torture, and was murdered on Ssese Island (sacrificed in a certain shrine).

“We left home with our mam because our paternal aunts had brought a[nother] woman for our father.

“We lived on street and verandahs with our mam as we go to schools for a month. When we were chased away, we could go to another at least to learn english. We survived on cooked pawpaws [papaya], beging, picking eats from rubbish, snitching and steal the food from neighbours’ kids as they were eating, our mam could also beg for us to live.

“I am the elder brother but am next to Anna. We begged people to help us so that we could get some land and build for our mother a room and not to stay outside, but it failed. We went to the bishop, but he chased us away.

“And we continued to be like slaves to people who could give us food. We went to dad to help my brothers Stavros and George and my sister Lukia, but my father’s new wife stopped him. At that time, i had to pay rent for our mam, pay school dues for Lukia, George and Stavrios, and also, care for kids of my brother Jonah, buy food, water, soap, medical and etc.

“2013, my father’s wife pierced a 6-inch nail in the head of my brother George but god helped the doctors to save him. But the doctors said he could not lift any thing more than like 5 kilograms. The step mam started to hunt us as she had promised to kill us with our mother. So we ran farther.

“2014, [my sister] Anna was bewitched and she ran insane, we suffered as we prayed to God to save us.

“One day but this year, 13th august, she killed my brother Makarios. He had 4 kids and now they are my responsibility.

“i don’t know where i can put and give them but now i am responsible for 14 kids including my 6. i have to cater for their food, school, medical, water, acommodation, including my mother because, i do not have land to cultivate or business to suport me or a plot to build for them a house. Anna, Bazirios, Makarios, Theodora, Lukia, George, Stavlos. My mam takes medical of 500,000/month [$150] but am job less…. she has never in 15 years had a full dose. I have not paid two terms for feas [because] the kids have to eat and drink, plus compulsory needs.

“Good night.”

So i asked, “Let me understand properly— How many people are you actually having to take care of (names and ages)?”

—”OK sir,
Nalongo Maria Nakimera:  my mother, she has diabetes,
Ssendija George: my brother, 18 yrs, who was pierced a nail in the head.
Namubiru Lukia: my sister, 17 yrs, S.6,
Nsubuga Stavros: my brother, 11 yrs, P.6,

Mutebi John: my son, 1yr,
Nansubuga Sharon: my daughter, 5 yrs, nursery,
Mukasa Jonah: my son, 5 yrs, nursery,
Namukasa Jacky: my daughter, 6 yrs P.2,
Mubiru John: my son, 3 yrs, nursery,
Namutebi Maria: my daughter, 3 yrs, nursery,

Naluta Thekla: Jonah’s daughter, 7 yrs, P.3,
Mugumbya Jeremia Edmondi: Jonah’s son 9 yrs, P.5, stays with his mother, but she asks school fees etc

Ssegane Makarios: Makarios’ son, 5 yrs, nursery,
Mukalazi Andrew: Makarios’ son, 4 yrs, nursery,
Ssendija Nectarios: Makarios’ son, 3 yrs, nursery,
Nankya Sophia: Makarios’ daughter, 2 yrs,

Then he added

—”My brother (dead Makarios) appeared in the dream he was crying to me while saying miserably that he died while I am just sitting and doing nothing.

“Can he be dangerous to me? Am not just sitting and doing nothing! Also i have to be with his children, now am stuck.

“He said i just sit around and do nothing yet we struggled together with our mother when we had been chased away from home by our aunts and our father, but the woman who they brought for our father, killed him with demons and that I did not save him.

“The woman promised to trace all of us and kill to have space. She spoke that when she had pierced a 6 inch nail into the head of my 2nd last brother george. Peaple tell us to hide far away to remain alive.”

Since he’s the oldest male, he’s responsible for his mother, who has diabetes— and was just evicted, by the way— and for his disabled brother, a sister, and a younger brother, as well as his wife, and himself, in addition to his 6 kids, the 2 of Jonah, and the 4 of Makarios. That’s EIGHTEEN people!

Lukia his sister brings in a little money from doing domestic labor, and George, who took the nail in the head, could work if he could find a desk job, but he needs at least to get some training before he’ll be qualified for that.

So here we are at the intersection of Christmas and desperation. Some of this money will come in, over time, if all of you continue as you’ve been doing.

But we need your help. Actually, we don’t need it—  good people like Bazirios need it.

Please be generous by contributing through Paypal:

—or by sending a check to the address on our contact page.

“Amen I say to you, to the extent you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.”— Jesus.

“When you give alms, God himself becomes your debtor.”— St John Chrysostom.

The St. Nicholas Africa Fund is a Charitable Works project of St Nicholas Orthodox Church in San Anselmo, California, a 501(c)(3) organization. Contributions are fully tax-deductible.

What do we do?— We directly help some of the poorest people in the world— mainly in Uganda, Kenya, Congo, and South Africa— all of whom are personally known to us— to finish high school, start businesses, and to meet their education, housing, nutrition, medical, and vocational needs.

People have to eat, NOW— hunger doesn’t wait! 
Medical care often can’t wait either.
But beyond the emergencies, the goal is always an income.
Education and training lift out of poverty.

That’s our whole philosophy, from beginning to end.
And we bet it’s yours too.

You can give life, health, and prosperity. You can stop the hunger and pain. You can help people stand when the world is beating them down. The only question is, can you do anything more meaningful? Okay then. Let’s start.

It takes work to organize, and we end up sending out a lot more appeals than we wish we had to— but if your help, getting results is actually pretty straightforward. People know what they need. What they lack is usually just a little money to get going. They need school fees. Capital to open a shop. Basic nutrition. How hard is any of that?? You want to help, but the problem is, you just don’t know anybody there.

Well, we know lots of people, and we know them directly. Of course not everybody— but in our experience, when one person has an income, about eleven people eat. So when you send us a gift— BOOM!— people eat. people go to school. people get over typhoid. It seldom takes much, when the money goes right to the person who needs it. And that’s what we do. We send your money right to their phone. We work directly with our clients. We know what they’re going through. And they send us their receipts. (Well, when reasonable). So YOU accomplish your purpose in giving.

Can you help us?—

or click here!

A thumbnail sketch of how it began . . . and continued

From the start of the program in 2003 through December 2022, we’ve sent more than $558,000— over half a million dollars— in direct assistance to Uganda, the Congo, Kenya, and South Africa, helping scores of students finish school, saving lives, training engineers, and creating jobs. We’re even sponsoring a medical student, the very first from his entire sub-county. He and his sponsors are beginning to think about building the first clinic in his area.

You probably wonder how much of your charitable gifts actually land on the people you want to help. But what if you knew you were directly paying school fees, or curing a case of typhoid, or feeding someone right now, today? That’s what we’re all about— you send $100 and Kasirye eats, Okello pays his school fees, and Margaret has her operation. It’s that straightforward!

The Africa Fund got started in 2003 when longtime St Nicholas parish member John Burnett went to Kampala, Uganda to work for a couple of months as an education consultant for the Orthodox archdiocese there. Not long after, he returned and worked for several years as Dean of its seminary. At that time, he started to support, and then to organize support, for high school students he knew who were in danger of dropping out for lack of fees. Later on, he became Dean of the seminary in Johannesburg, and found himself working with many Congolese and Zimbabwean refugees in a very deteriorated and crime-ridden but lovely slum known as Yeoville. Thus he expanded the program to serve some of his new contacts as well. The fund still supports one university student in South Africa, the son of a Congolese refugee, who expects to graduate in 2024.

But one Johannesburg family— Patrick, Christelle, and their infant son Blessing— returned to the Congo a few years ago. Through a series of disasters, accidents, deaths, and other catastrophes, they soon found themselves running what is now effectively an orphanage with 13 kids, from age 16 down to 3. As of January 2023 it costs about $3600 per month to keep all of them in a very crowded house, in school, fed, and healthy. We’ve helped Patrick and Christelle start a little restaurant, and they manage to defray a small part of their costs, but otherwise, there’s no way they could keep the whole program going. The kids themselves are from four different families, none of whom knew each other before Patrick and Christelle took them in— only Blessing and two-year-old Julianne are their own.

The Fund focuses on helping poor students get an education, but because we have a fairly close relationship with them, we’ve always provided medical, nutritional, and housing assistance as well. We’ve sponsored some of our graduates in vocational or even university programs, and we’ve helped some of them to start small businesses. Our vision and our goal is for them to become self-sufficient. Our experience has been that in Africa, when one person has a job, about ten people eat. Most of the small businesses that our clients have started have proven successful, and one or two at a time, the kids are graduating.

Administration and oversight

The Fund is directed and administered by Mr Burnett himself. We do pay a Program Manager in Kampala to keep an eye on each of our recipients personally, and to make sure that every cent remitted reaches its intended purpose. At home, the program is also overseen by the Parish Treasurer at St Nicholas in San Anselmo.

Because remitting money abroad has gotten very easy since Covid forced everyone to go online, we can now send funds directly to many recipients, or to their parents if the kids are young. Doing this is cost-effective and eliminates paying mobile-money fees inside Uganda. But sometimes it’s still expedient to batch funds and send them through the Program Manager, and he either pays the schools directly, or sends the money to the client so they can buy clothing, food, books, etc. We get receipts whenever possible (Africa’s economies are largely informal, so it’s often not possible), and we keep a strict account of all money transfers.  Mr Burnett submits quarterly reports to the St Nicholas Parish Council, and the account is professionally audited and a report submitted to the Parish at the end of each year.

We can’t always avoid money-transfer and bank fees, but those and communication costs are our only overhead. We know each of our recipients face-to-face, and communicate with many of them often. The whole operation is very person-to-person. With us, you’re basically looking into someone’s eyes as you take care of their need.

To sum it up

We strive to support our recipients at least through the end of high school or vocational training, but some kids are definitely university material, and we try to help them, especially in medicine or STEM subjects. Azizi recently got an IT degree in Turkey, and has just completed an internship in Belgium. Samuel is now the manager of a hydroelectric power station on the Congolese border (!), and is paying for his own siblings’ education. Moses graduated from Kampala International University, got a job running the security system at a large business, and just bought a piece of land. Richard is currently a full-time medical student. Typically, we help our kids for about 10 years.

Do you know a charity where you could have a more direct impact? If you do, then please let us know— we want to find out how they do it, so we can do it too!

More than half a million dollars of direct assistance has made an incredible difference in the lives of some of Africa’s poorest people since 2003. A high school certificate is the minimum requirement for most employment, and we’ve sponsored scores of them. The apprenticeships we’ve arranged, the business grants we’ve given, and the emergency food, housing, and medical assistance we’ve provided have helped entire families to stay afloat and even to thrive. We’ve directly saved many lives by taking care of accidents, serious operations, and emergency medical care.

Can you think of anything more amazing than saving a life?

Or than giving the gift of life?

Now that you have an idea of the kind of impact we have, would you be averse to helping us out today?

Would you hesitate even to set up a monthly contribution, if you could?

Click on this Paypal button. You don’t have to have a Paypal account, and it’s safe and secure—

—or just send a check to

Africa Fund
St Nicholas Orthodox Church
102 Ross Avenue
San Anselmo CA 94960 USA.

https://stnicholasmarin.org/africafund/

And contact us from the link at the bottom of this page if you have any questions, comments, or wish to sponsor a student or address a particular need.