A Scorpion at School

​It started at around 6:30am, when I was getting my stuff together to head off for a busy work day. I planned to teach Hebrew to nine theological school students from 7am to 9am, then go straight to the translation center to work on parallel passages checks with the translators of the Sara Kaba Dem Bible until 5pm. This schedule always made for a long work day, but it was work I enjoyed and wanted to do, so I was looking forward to it. 

As I gathered my things, I suddenly remembered that the previous class session, I had misplaced one of my class notebooks at home. I looked around and located the missing notebook, and shoved it into my school backpack with the others. Unknown to me, there was a stowaway in that bag: a scorpion had somehow found his way inside, at some point when my backpack was sitting around not properly zipped up. When I shoved the notebook into the backpack, I disturbed him and he crawled up higher and hung out near the zipper. It was a disaster waiting to happen. 

About ten minutes later, I arrived at school. Good: none of the students had arrived yet. I always liked to be early when I could, even though most Chadian professors typically arrive at the last minute, after the students are already there. But I’ve always been an early bird, and anyway I like a little extra time to get my class material together and look over my notes, so I tend to come early. 

I unzipped my backpack and reached for my class notebooks. I didn’t even get my hand in far enough to pull out the notebooks when I felt something like a pinprick at the tip of my right ring finger. Yeouch! What was that? I couldn’t see anything there. Was there a pin stuck near the zipper that poked me? But that didn’t make sense. Why would there be a pin in my backpack? I had never even put so much as a safety pin in that backpack. 

And now I could feel a burning, tingling sensation in my finger. It must have been some kind of insect… an ant? There are large stinging ants in Chad, rather like the Bulldog Ants we had in Australia; I’ve been stung by these Chadian ants before. But their stings hurt for a few minutes and then subside quickly. This pain was getting worse by the minute - it was already far worse than any ant sting I’d experienced. My finger was already starting to swell and turn red. I began to think it must have been a scorpion: nothing else I could think of in Chad would be this painful, except maybe a large centipede or snake, which are big enough that I would surely have noticed them. 

By now I was pacing the room, shaking my hand up and down as though to shake off the pain. I pulled out my small water bottle, fresh from the freezer (cold but not frozen), and stuck my finger in it to try to reduce the burning sensation. Not the most hygienic thing to do maybe, but I was starting to feel desperate from the pain. This cooled my finger a little, but didn’t really help much. 

Now the first of the nine Hebrew students showed up: Sody. A little fellow just over five feet tall and about 110 pounds, unusually small for a man in a country where most men are over six feet tall. He’s a feisty little guy but good-hearted and a good friend. He greeted me cheerfully but then immediately saw something was wrong. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Something stung me in my backpack. A scorpion maybe. It really hurts.” 

Sody looked very concerned, and quickly went to my backpack and began to search it - very carefully. A couple more students showed up and helped him. They shook out the backpack vigorously, and finally shook out the culprit: the scorpion stowaway! They quickly squashed it, which was a little comfort. At least now the scorpion was worse off than I was! And I wouldn’t have to worry about that particular stowaway again. 

But by now, I was in agonizing pain. My finger burned like a thousand fires and tingled like pins and needles, and yet was also going numb. It seems strange to say that it burned and felt numb at the same time, but that’s how it felt. The burning sensation was creeping up my hand toward the wrist. I sat on a chair near the door and was soon awash in tears of pain. I began to sweat profusely. 

More students arrived and were soon informed that Sister Anna had been stung by a scorpion. They all felt very worried. Nassars (foreigners of European or Asian ancestry) have such weak constitutions, they reasoned. When a nassar gets malaria or typhoid, he often gets it bad, much worse than for most Chadians, and he is more likely to suffer complications. Perhaps Sister Anna would suffer more from a scorpion sting than most Chadians do. The students began to feel panicky. Raymond, an older student who walked with a limp, dashed off in spite of his limp to look for a razorblade, with the idea of carrying out a home remedy which involved making an incision near the site of the sting. The other students hovered around anxiously. Someone went to summon Jacob, the student body president, who wasn’t in the class but his house is next door to the theological school. It’s his job to take charge in such situations, which he always does with gentle, humble leadership. 

Meanwhile, I was still sitting sweating and in tears of agony on the chair by the door, only half aware of all the bustle around me. I wasn’t losing consciousness at all, but the pain was so excruciating that it kind of took over and I just wasn’t paying attention to anything else. I was starting to feel a bit short of breath and slightly nauseous, which at the time I just attributed to a result of the pain, but later an internet search on scorpion stings showed these as among the more severe symptoms of a scorpion sting. The burning sensation had now crept past my wrist and was slowly making its way up my forearm. 

I was in such pain that I wasn’t even thinking about what to do, or really anything but the pain. Seeing this, Jacob along with Gédeon (a former high school principal and a real go-getter), took charge of the situation to decide what to do. One of the students - I don’t remember now if it was Sody or Jacob - came to me where I was still sitting in agony by the door. I was so overwhelmed with pain that his voice seemed far away. 

“We’re taking you to the health center,” he said, meaning the small village medical dispensary (like a clinic) near the school. I realized then that I should have thought of that myself but I was in such pain that I wasn’t thinking straight. The village medical clinic isn’t fantastic, but for common African health problems like malaria and typhoid and scorpion stings, they are able to do the basic necessary care. 

“Okay,” I agreed. 

So we all trooped over to the dispensary. The students offered to help me walk but although I was a little dizzy, I was able to walk okay. There wasn’t really a need for all ten or so students to go with me, but this is what you do in Chad. When a friend is sick, you go with her and make sure she has what she needs and doesn’t feel alone. 

The dispensary nurses quickly tied a latex glove around my arm as a makeshift tourniquet and proceeded to inject a couple of different medicines. Along with the regular nurse, they had a new intern there who didn’t know me, but he tried to be gentle. 

“This is a necessary pain,” he said apologetically as he prepared the needle. In spite of his efforts to be gentle, he struggled with his inexperience and it took him three or four tries to get the first injection into my finger near the site of the sting, which was no fun, but I was in too much pain to make any protest except to wince. He then injected another medicine into my other arm, and with that he was done. 

I wondered if I was supposed to just go home now and wait it out until the pain subsided, but they clearly didn’t want to release me that quickly. I was no longer in tears, but I was still sweating profusely, so they fanned me with woven grass fans as I sat on a dispensary bench. Then they brought me into the inside room where there were a couple beds for urgent cases and urged me to lie down and rest while they kept up the fanning, taking turns. They found an ice pack, which helped to cool the burning sensation in my hand. I could feel that the scorpion venom had now crept as far as my shoulder, but the pain didn’t get any worse and actually subsided a lot, so I didn’t complain. 

After about half or three-quarters of an hour, Gédeon, Jacob, and Sody took charge again. They decided to take me to a better-quality clinic in Sarh to see if they could offer any additional treatment. One of them called my driver, Tara, and he soon arrived with my truck. But the clinic in town had nothing else to suggest except what the village dispensary had already done, so we headed home. During this trip back and forth to town, the burning pain in my hand started up again, though not quite as bad or widespread as it had been at first. 

In the meantime, my missionary coworkers from Sarh arrived in Balimba with additional medication for the pain if it continued to persist. Armed with these, I went home, made myself a drink, settled myself on the futon-couch in the living room, and tried to distract myself with my iPad. 

The severe pain continued until after 10am. At that point, I fell asleep, and when I woke, the swelling and burning was very much less. After that, it continued to decrease by the hour, until by the evening the pain was mostly gone. As I write now, the only noticeable effects are some muscle aches in my hand and arm up to my shoulder. Also a pretty bad case of insomnia, which is why I’m writing this now! 

From time to time throughout the day, students from the theological school and coworkers from the Bible translation work and other friends stopped by or called to see how I was doing. Because in Chad, you not only go with a friend to the clinic to make sure she’s okay, you also visit afterwards to see how she’s doing and to pray with her. Chadians make you feel very loved and cared for when you are sick! 

The effects of scorpion stings are quite variable, from all that I’ve heard from my friends here. For some people, it’s little worse than a bee sting, while others are in agony for 2-3 days. I fell somewhere in between the two: four hours of severe pain, and about six hours of moderate to mild pain, and after that only mild discomfort which I’m sure will wear off as well. 

So I’m thankful that it wasn’t any worse, and I’m thankful for my friends who watch out for me, and for the unexpected day of rest, which I hadn’t planned on but God apparently knew I needed! And I’m thankful for all of you who read my posts and pray for me.

The Trouble with Air Travel in Africa

Traveling by plane in Africa is difficult compared to most of the rest of the world. There are far fewer flights and they are more expensive than in other regions.  

Fewer Flights

 Compare these maps from a flight radar app showing the positions of airplanes flying over different regions of the world.

Southeast Asia

Europe

Eastern USA

Africa

In southeast Asia, Europe, and the eastern US, you can see a mass of planes heading in different directions, though mostly avoiding Russia and Ukraine (for obvious reasons). But Africa seems comparatively empty of airplanes, except for some clusters near a few major hubs, such as Addis Ababa and Douala. 

If you search for flights between major African cities, it is often difficult or impossible to find direct flights.  For example, I'd love to be able to fly directly between N'Djamena in Chad and Yaounde in Cameroon. There's a seminary in Yaounde where some of my Chadian friends are working on getting their masters' degrees. If I wanted to fly into Yaounde to attend their graduation ceremonies, I'd have to change planes in Douala, or even fly far out of my way to Addis Ababa. The same scenario can be repeated between many large African cities. 

Smaller cities in Africa often have no commercial flights anywhere nearby. It's a 14-hour drive from Sarh, where I live, to the nearest international airport in N'Djamena to catch a commercial flight (Bangui in neighboring CAR is technically about the same distance from here as the crow flies, but closed borders, terrible roads, and dangerous war zones make that route impassible). You'd be hard pressed to find a city of any size in America or western Europe that would require such a long drive to get to an international airport!

Expensive Flights

It seems counter-intuitive that air travel in the poorest continent on earth would be more expensive, yet it is! 

Flight cost from Paris to New York

Flight cost from N'Djamena to Bamako

As you can see, it costs twice as much to fly from Chad to Mali, just a couple countries away, than it does to fly from Paris to New York, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean!

So you get the picture. Air travel in Africa is inconvenient and expensive. Why is this the case?  Basically, it boils down to two things: politics and poverty. But let me explain:

• High fees. Airlines can't fly over other countries without asking permission, and they can't land in airports without signing agreements. These agreements and permissions usually involve fees and taxes, and African governments impose some of the highest in the world. The airlines have to either raise the plane ticket costs to cover the expense, or they simply don't fly to that country. Some countries may not give permission at all, in which case airplanes must route around their air spaces.
  
• Fewer passengers. Because there is so much poverty in Africa, there are fewer business travelers than in Europe or North America, and not many Africans in very poor nations like Chad can afford to fly for pleasure even at the economy class level. Even those that do travel between African countries for business are likely to travel on an economy class ticket, even though they are flying for business purposes. Airlines don't make much money on economy class tickets: they make most of their money on business and first class. If they don't have enough business class travelers to make a profit, they raise the cost of economy class to make up for it.
  
• Poor infrastructure. Air travel requires a tremendous amount of complex infrastructure in order to work well. Airplanes, roads, runways, airports, security, staff training, fuel, etc - all of these things require a significant investment to build and maintain, which are just not the highest priority in many African governments' limited budgets.
  

Cheaper and more convenient air travel would make many things easier in Africa, and would likely help the countries to develop their economies better. But it doesn't look like it will improve very much anytime soon. 

But I would love to be proven wrong.

References: 

https://www.ibtimes.com/african-air-travel-why-are-airlines-africa-so-expensive-unsafe-impossible-navigate-1234609

https://www.africanexponent.com/post/18102-5-reasons-why-flying-within-africa-is-so-expensive

Run! Or Be Buried Alive! (Taryembaye's Story)

​Taryembaye's name (pronounced "tar-yem-by") means "He Still Loves Me". His mother was happy when she gave birth to a son after having had several daughters, and said that it showed that God still loved her since He had given her a son. But his name has even richer meaning now than his mother ever thought it would, since over the past fifteen years or so, his life has become a testimony to God's love and protection through very difficult circumstances.

This is Taryembaye's story, as he has recounted to me and to others. I'm sharing it with his permission.

Background

Every ten years, the Sara Madjingaye people hold a series of traditional rituals for boys called initiation. Other ethnic groups also have some form of initiation, though the details vary among the different ethnic groups. Initiation is a coming-of-age pagan ritual for boys and young men. It is pagan, idolatrous, satanic, and the rituals are supposed to be secret. The initiation leaders will literally kill rather than let anyone reveal secrets from the initiation camps. They also threaten those who speak openly against initiation or discourage boys from participating in the rituals. The initiation rites among the Sara are held every ten years, for boys aged from preteens up to early 20's. The boys are taken to a camp in a remote area of the bush for at least a month while they undergo the rites, after which they return to the village for the closing ceremonies.

 

Initiates dancing at an initiation ceremony in 2007

Deceived

Taryembaye had been warned by his Christian father not to go to the pagan initiation camps. His father never told him the details of initiation, but he taught him it was evil and that he shouldn't go. But in 2007, when the initiation cycle came due and it was time for the initiation rituals, Taryembaye was deceived by his smooth-talking pagan uncle into believing it was something good, and he went. But he soon found out he had been deceived and realized that it was idolatry and demon worship, but on top of that, the initiation leaders had an ulterior motive in getting him to the camp.

“We’ve been trying to take vengeance on your father for years,” they said, “ever since he became a Christian and renounced the initiation rites. We couldn’t get him, but now we have you and we will take vengeance on you.”

Taryembaye immediately regretted listening to his uncle and wanted desperately to get out of there. But he didn’t know how to escape now that he was in the camp. He was surrounded by the traditional pagan leaders and the initiate boys, and he had no idea of his way through the bush. The others at the camp said that he would surely reveal all the initiation camp secrets afterwards. Initiation tradition dictates that no initiation secrets must be told - on pain of death. So because of this and because of his father being a Christian, they were determined to take vengeance on him.

All the initiates are tortured daily (except Sundays) with whips, for the full month of initiation. But they made sure that Taryembaye’s torture was the worst they could give. Taryembaye became aware they were talking about him and felt they were planning to do something to him, but he didn't know what to do. He tried asking his uncle for help, since his uncle was the one that brought him there, but though his uncle wept in distress at what was happening, he was afraid of the initiation leaders and wouldn't or couldn't help.

The Valley of the Shadow of Death

As the end of the initiation period approached, they prepared to get rid of Taryembaye. On the last night of the initiation camp, they dug a grave, getting ready to bury him - alive. They even composed a song to sing at the closing ceremonies, about how he had been devoured by a wild animal. They also defied God, saying that the Christian God would not be powerful enough to deliver him from their hands. But God had other plans for Taryembaye!

Taryembaye was trembling all over with trauma and terror and had no idea how to escape. He knew they were planning to kill him. The initiation leaders and boys finished digging the grave, but before they went to bury him, several boys went to relieve themselves in the nearby bushes (no bathrooms in the initiation camps). Taryembaye managed to mingle with them, unnoticed in the dark, and instead of stopping to do his business, he kept on going and ran into the dark bush - barefoot and naked (initiates are not allowed to wear any clothes for the entire period of initiation), terrified of being pursued, and not knowing his way.

After running only a few meters, he fell heavily, twisting his arm. With some effort, he got to his feet, got his arm back in the right place, and kept going. By God's guidance, he found his father's house, and begged his father for forgiveness for not having listened to him. "Now they're after me to kill me," he said, "and they will want to take vengeance on my family too."

In terror and self-defense, his father went to inform the village chief. Taryembaye knew that the chief would just turn him back over to the initiation leaders, who would then kill him. So he decided to flee, but he wanted something to wear first (he was still naked). The door of his father's house was closed, but it was made of flimsy corrugated metal, and being a very slender young man, he was able to force his way in. According to initiation customs, the initiation leaders had taken his things away, but they had missed a few items. He found a pair of pants and a shirt and jacket, and with some difficulty, wriggled his way out again.

As he stepped outside, he saw his father and the village chief returning, just a few meters from the house. The chief was armed with a large knife. He shined his flashlight on Taryembaye's face.

"Don't move, or I'll throw the knife!" the chief said. But Taryembaye fled into the darkness. The chief didn't want to shout louder or make a scene, as he didn't want the village women to know what was happening; according to pagan tradition, women aren't supposed to know about initiation secrets.

Taryembaye fled to the local Baptist church, narrowly avoiding being discovered by witchdoctors and initiate boys which he encountered along the way. He knew they would still kill him if they caught him.

When he arrived at the church, the choir was there, busy with an activity, but the church door was closed. So he went on and found the pastor's house, and told him the whole story of his narrow escape from death.

"Truly, initiation is an evil thing," the pastor said, "but don't worry. Now you are here, nothing bad will happen to you." And the pastor sheltered him in his home.

After-terrors 

Soon after this, Taryembaye had a serious mental breakdown from the severe trauma he had experienced, and was placed in the local Christian hospital. He suffered from terrible hallucinations where he saw snakes, monsters, and many horrible things. It was some time before he recovered. During this crisis, many Christians prayed regularly for him.

Even in the hospital, he wasn't safe from the initiation leaders. One night, someone tried to force open the door of the hospital where he was staying, but could not get in and finally gave up and went away.

Another time, a large force of pagan initiates and leaders came to a nearby pastor's home. They had heard that Taryembaye often went there to take a shower before going back to his hospital room. They surrounded the pastor's home, armed with knives and other weapons, and declared they would destroy the pastor's house in order to get Taryembaye.

By God's providence, an important and well-known general in the Chadian military was at the hospital at the same time, being treated for an eye problem. When he heard that the initiation people were surrounding the pastor's home and threatening to tear it down to get to Taryembaye, he sent his own force of bodyguards to the house, giving them permission to open fire if the men attacked the pastor's home. The initiation men, seeing men in military uniform coming toward them, fled into the night.

During this incident, Taryembaye was in his hospital room, and only learned of the incident later. Once again, God had kept him safe.

One day, as Taryembaye thought he saw a person coming toward him, with horns on his head, and claws for fingernails. He felt sure it was the devil. Then he saw another Person standing in the doorway, not speaking to him, but just standing there as though to protect him. He felt that the Person was Jesus. Just another hallucination? Well, maybe it was. I don't know. But I do know that the Lord was protecting this young man. Soon after this, he recovered enough to leave the hospital, and the church leaders agreed to send him to a cousin in a remote town, some distance away over roads that were mostly impassible in the Chadian rainy season. He remained there until the initiation period was over and he was in somewhat less danger.

The Danger Is Not Over

About five years after these events, he was attacked by a crazed bull which he felt sure was demon-possessed due to spiritual attacks through the initiation witch-doctors. Whatever the reason, he had another narrow escape as he crawled through a gap in a nearby fence and took refuge behind it, while local women who had been fetching water from a nearby well screamed with terror. Some of the injuries he suffered continue to trouble him to this day.

In 2018, initiation time came once again, and again, Taryembaye was in danger from the initiation leaders. He took refuge again with his cousin in the remote town until the initiation period was over.

Even now, fifteen years after the event after he was nearly killed at the initiation camp, he is still in some danger if he goes back to his home village. But God has continued to protect him. In gratefulness to God, he has determined to serve Him with his life, and is now studying at the Theological school in Balimba. Maybe he will be a pastor someday, and the Lord will use his experiences to lead others in the right way.

Conclusion

Our spiritual enemy is powerful, and holds a tremendous amount of power over many people’s lives. But God is stronger, and He is still able to protect us even when all seems against us and we feel like everyone has abandoned us. He will never leave us nor forsake us.

Taryembaye's story is remarkable, but certainly not unique. Every time the ethnic groups in southern Chad hold initiation rituals, boys like him are being deceived into participating in evil, idolatrous practices that will damage them both physically and spiritually. Many church leaders struggle with fear of repercussions if they speak openly against it, and as a result, their congregations are not well-taught as to how God would have them respond to initiation.

Please pray for Christians to have courage to take a stand, pray for the Lord's protection on them, and pray for the continued spread of our most effective weapon in this battle: God's Word!

Ten Things You (Maybe) Didn't Know about the Geography of Chad

(especially Sarh)

Many people don't even know the first thing about Chad's geography: where it's located (in north-central Africa).  Hopefully, if you follow my ministry, you do already know that much!  But here are some other details that you may not have known (because I didn't know most of these things until I researched them myself).

1. Chad is the third largest landlocked country in the world.

There are currently 44 landlocked countries and five partially recognized landlocked states in the world. The two largest are Kazakhstan and Mongolia, so that Chad is the largest landlocked country in Africa. However, it’s only by a small margin, as both Niger and Mali are only slightly smaller than Chad.

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Landlocked_country#List_of_landlocked_countries

2. Sarh is nearly 700 miles (1,124 kms) from the nearest ocean.

 

The nearest coast to Chad is in Cameroon, whose coast is on the Gulf of Guinea in the North Atlantic Ocean. The Chadian languages I work with do not even have a word for ocean, so in the Bible they use a phrase or compound word meaning “big salty river”. 

Source: maps.google.com

3. Sarh is geographically closer to Paris than to Cape Town.

Years ago, a church where I was speaking announced me in the bulletin as “missionary to Chad, S. Africa”. They were only a few miles off!!

Source: https://www.distancefromto.net/

4. In 2018, Chad was the 12th least visited country in the world.

14 of the 20 least visited countries listed are in sub-Saharan Africa. It’s not because these countries have nothing interesting to see. But travel and communication can be difficult; resources and facilities for tourists are limited, and some are ravaged by war. In Chad, most of the foreigners who do travel to the country come for business: missionaries, business people, and NGO’s (NGO’s are non-government organizations, such as charities and development projects).

Source: https://www.travelmag.com/articles/most-and-least-visited-countries-in-the-world/

5. The southern quarter of Chad contains 64% of the population; the northern half contains about 8%.

Southern Chad also has nine of the country’s ten largest cities: N’Djamena, Moundou, Sarh, Kelo, Koumra, Pala, Am Timan, Bongor, and Mongo. Abeche is the largest city in central Chad. The largest city in the north, Fada, is the twelfth largest in the country. 

Sources: https://knoema.com/atlas/Chad/Region-profiles; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regions_of_Chad.

6. The distance between Sarh in southern Chad and Bardaï in northern Chad is greater than the distance between Jacksonville, Florida and Detroit, Michigan.

According to Google, it takes about fifteen and half hours to drive from Jacksonville to Detroit. But it would take far longer to travel this distance in Chad, since the roads are so bad (they are so bad now that you can’t even get to N’Djamena in 15 and a half hours, let alone to Bardai). I don’t even want to think about how long it would take to drive to Bardai, and apparently Google doesn’t want to either!

 Source: maps.google.com.

7. Chad has the lowest percentage of paved roads in the world.

Dangerousroads.org claims that less than 1% of Chad's roads are paved. This percentage is probably not rapidly improving, as Chad’s existing paved roads are usually poorly maintained. GlobalEconomy.com listed Chad’s roads as the worst quality roads of the 141 listed countries. Note that this is not all the countries in the world, but only those for which they had data.

 Sources: https://www.dangerousroads.org/around-the-world/statistics-and-facts/4941-countries-with-lowest-of-paved-roads.html; https://www.theglobaleconomy.com/rankings/roads_quality/.

8. Chad's largest region, Borkou in northern Chad, is nearly as large as Oregon.

But being in the desert, Borkou has a similar population density to that of Alaska, with a population of only around 100,000 people.

Source: fr.wikipedia.com.

9. The region of N'Djamena has about the same land area as Denver, Colorado.

The region of N’Djamena includes the capital city itself (about 720,000 people, slightly less than Denver) and the surrounding area, similar to Washington D.C. in the US or the Australian Capital Territory in Australia. The entire region of N'Djamena has over 1.2 million people.

Source: https://knoema.com/atlas/Chad/Region-profiles.

10. Faya-Largeau in northern Chad only gets 0.4 inches (10 mms) of precipitation annually. Sarh gets 45 inches (1,140 mms).

Map of Chad's climate zones

 

45 inches is about the same annual precipitation as Maine. Two-thirds of Sarh’s annual rainfall comes between July and September, the peak months of rainy season.

Source: http://www.weatherbase.com/.