The Ticking Clock - Paul Ngandi (part 2)

 The ship sails in a couple of months. For many of the day crew, this creates a sense of "oh no, what am I going to do?" But Paul Ngandi doesn't look at it that way. He sees his time with Mercy Ships as a specific season of service, and he is already looking forward to the next. He isn’t panicking about the end of a steady paycheck; he is preparing to change his focus to the many hurting and lost people in this country.

While the children’s home is the immediate priority, Paul’s long-term vision involves evangelism and caring for the broader Sierra Leone. He has watched how the Jesus Film affects patients and caregivers on the ship, helping them understand the Gospel in a way that conversation alone often cannot. He wants to take this to the remote villages of Sierra Leone using a generator, a projector, and a screen. He has a team of pastors ready to work with him, but he has committed to finishing the plumbing for the children’s home first.

Paul grew up Muslim and came to know Jesus years ago. Since then, he's taken on a shepherding mentality to care for his sisters, his village, and the people around him. He loves being a hospital chaplain with Mercy Ships where he can sit with, grieve with, work through heavy and difficult topics with patients and caregivers, and, hopefully, celebrate successful surgeries and recoveries with many patients and caregivers. 

He knows the risks. People here can die at any time, and in high-risk environments, you have no idea if you will have the chance to finish tomorrow what you leave undone today. I’ve told him before: you can’t complete something you never start. But Paul is resilient. He is a reminder to me that a person can be honest and tender-hearted while remaining steady in the face of death, decay, and sadness.

We are not sharing these stories to ask for funds, but to highlight the reality of life for our friends here. We came to these relationships through prayer. The Lord has been generous to us through our partners, and that enables us to stand with men like Paul as they navigate the challenges of their own communities.

Paul, I know we will sail away in a couple of months, but I’m not going to forget you. Thank you for teaching me about joy and for your dedication to seeing the people of Sierra Leone fed, clothed, and loved.

The Duty to Finish Strong - Paul Ngandi (part 1)

I recently had an honest conversation with Paul Ngandi about the difference between compassion and completion. Paul is a pastor who served in hospital chaplaincy as day crew on the ship. He is a man of deep empathy and a man of prayer. It is a requirement for his calling, but that same tenderness can sometimes make the operational side of a project difficult to manage.

Paul supports seven street children, providing them with food and clothing. He raised the funds to build and roof a house to give them a permanent home. However, the project has stalled at the finish line. The structure has no plumbing—no toilets, no sinks. When Paul originally had the money set aside for the plumbing, he encountered other children in immediate, desperate need. He chose to repurpose the funds to help them. It was a kind act, but it left the house as a shell.

The almost completed house (minus plumbing).

We talked about the importance of finishing what you start. You cannot provide a stable, long-term home for seven kids without a working bathroom. But more than that, I want him to finish before moving onto any other dreams or goals. The plumbing project requires approximately $1,300 to complete. We are helping Paul refocus on this specific goal because the church is at its best when it provides a safe, finished place for the vulnerable to rest.

Paul’s hospitality is as real as his vision. Last year, I had the privilege of visiting his church for a service and joining him, his sister, and her family for lunch afterward. I have so much more than they do, and yet they graciously gifted me what little food they had. That small, spicy potato dish with plenty of pepper sauce was a huge gift—one I will not soon forget.

Joining Paul's church

Paul's sister, his niece, and me.

In my time with Paul, I learned something about Sierra Leonean prayers. Paul almost always begins by saying, "Thank you, Lord, that we are alive today, because there are many people who did not wake up." At first, it seemed quite morbid to me. Then I realized the reality of life here. People die frequently, often suddenly, and without a clear cause. Funerals are a common rhythm. Paul’s prayer isn't dark; it’s an earned gratitude. It has taught me to stop taking the next twenty-four hours for granted. Even when my back hurts I stub my toe, or I don’t get what I want, I can be grateful for one more day.

Narrow Roads and 14,000 Leones - Alimamy Sesay (part 2)

A few weeks ago, Alimamy purchased a robust industrial overlocker machine. In the world of textiles, this is a serious piece of equipment. It cost 14,000 Leones (roughly $600 USD). In a context where it takes months of disciplined saving to reach that amount, it is a significant investment. It is also a sobering contrast to how easily we might spend that same amount in a week back home without batting an eye.

The (boxed) Overlocker machine! Just waiting to get set up.

Transporting the machine was its own mission. I drove Alimamy and a few others into downtown Freetown in our Toyota Landcruiser. The "roads" are more like alleyways with all the shops with their goods out front. These are so narrow that street vendors had to pull their goods out of the way just to let a single vehicle pass (ours). I may or may not have bumped a few stalls and elicited some justified frustration from shopkeepers—oops. I've learned there are different tones of yelling, some are just "talking" and then there are some when the get very animated. Thankfully, we were fine. Whew. 

After navigating the downtown chaos, we spent an hour on rutted dirt roads that clearly wash out during the rainy season. I have no idea how the locals manage it daily during rainy season, especially on motorbikes and small-wheeled kekes. We're just a few weeks from rainy season, in fact.

Life in Africa: A new way to ride. Do you see all three of them?

When we finally reached his shop, the scene was one of focused intensity. The space is small, maybe 14x14 feet, yet it fits six or seven people all sewing on different machines in 85°F heat with 80% humidity. The ground is dry and dusty, parched, dusty, and slightly red by the local iron-rich soil. Despite the conditions, there was a palpable sense of joy. Several experienced seamstresses had spent their Saturday helping Alimamy set up the new machine. It really does take a village.

Alimamy's current shop. 

The unboxing and setup. Everyone was quite excited about it!

The team that helped bring it to his shop, including some of the youth that Alimamy is training to become tailors.

Alimamy has already trained 50 youth through the World Bank and, more recently, his organization called DOERS. His goal is to scale this into a larger training hub that can accommodate 15 to 20 machines. He's currently working to secure a one-year lease on a larger facility, costing approximately 25,000 Leones ($1,100 US). He's been working hard, taking on more business from us and others, and is getting closer to realizing this next phase of his overall dream. It gets bigger, but this is just one more step toward his goal of improving the lives of Sierra Leoneans as demonstrated by his huge heart for Jesus and his people.  

As we prepare to sail away in a few months, I am grateful to Alimamy. He has taught me a great deal about what it looks like to find joy in the incremental work of building something that lasts. Sierra Leoneans have taught me more about living out of joy in my daily life. Alimamy is one of the chief joy-givers.

And, of course, this was on the way home. I'm going to miss West Africa.

The Master Tailor in the Dining Room - Alimamy Sesay (part 1)

For the past three years, Alimamy Sesay has been a constant presence in the ship’s dining room. Most people on board know him for his friendly, warm, consistent greetings. He is the person who shows up every day with a smile, helping brand-new crew members navigate the drink station or figure out the rhythm of the buffet line.

It is easy to see the cheerfulness and miss the weight behind it. A little over a year ago, Alimamy lost his wife. It was sudden—the kind of heartbreak that happens too often here, where people get sick and die before they can get the care they need. He was left with two young boys. Because of the demands of work and life, one lives with relatives here in Freetown, and the other lives with his mother-in-law back in their home village.

Despite this, he remains of a cheerful attitude. Part of that is his character, and part of it is a bit of the Sierra Leonean culture: there is an unspoken expectation to be happy because you need to make others happy. But Alimamy is also a practitioner with significant depth. He has his college degree, is a great clothing tailor, and loves to engage with everyone.

Our Christmas outfits, tailored by Alimamy (yes, he wanted to wear the Santa hat!)

Alimamy made our family’s Christmas outfits this past year—blue and black jackets customized in a traditional West African style. I like them a lot. But the skill is only part of the connection. I’ve watched him engage with our kids in the meal line, noticing when they seem sad and stopping to ask how they are doing. 

Recently, I had the honor to visit his shop in Waterloo about 45 minutes away. I was surprised to find that the youth working there already knew me by name because of the many fabrics I had sent over for our family. I had no idea. It is a humbling reminder of the second and third-order effects our small interactions have on a community. Because it is not simply that he has other people who work in his shop, but he is constantly training up youths to teach them about textiles. How to sew, stitch, and design clothes. In effect, a source of income to provide for their families. He has trained 50 youths with the World Bank and also in his shop. Unintentionally, we are making a difference for this cohort of half a dozen youths for well over a year and did not know. What a blessing to discover that. There is good in this world. There are people who give and want to better their country. Alimamy is one of those.

Washing Feet

 I am in the throws of "ortho season" right now. 48 kids in casts who were previously bowed legged or knock kneed are coming to rehab to see a PT. It's controlled chaos! There is a team of 8 of us seeing all of them (soon to be 6 as 2 of my colleagues return to the US and Belgium). After 12 weeks in a cast, they have their "healing check day". We take off the cast, go to radiology for x-rays and then wait for the surgeon to say yes they can stay out of casts or no they have to go back into cast for 2-3 weeks then try again. Of course we are all hoping and praying they get out of casts and we can start that next phase of rehab. 

Part of the process of taking off the cast is using a cast saw to cut the cast off. This is a new skill I have acquired here, something I have never had the need to do back in California. But after the cast is off, we take a few minutes to clean off the leg before going to radiology. After being in that cast for 12 weeks, there is dead skin, small wounds, you name it. While friends here have asked "isn't the small awful?" or "isn't that gross?" it is the absolute pleasure of my life to clean those legs.

It is a sacred thing to me. A moment of servanthood. A time to slow down and show these kids how much I love them. I will clean your feet. It's a vulnerable thing for them that I do not take lightly. 

I have no pictures of these moments and never will as I wouldn't want someone with a camera ruining the moment. But believe me, this is one of hundreds of unexpected blessings I have been a part of since coming to Sierra Leone. 

Banking in Africa

It is quite difficult to have the same level of banking as the Global North (or "the West").

Even for me, the Mercy Ships Finance Director,  to just to log into the local African bank's website will often take 3-5 tries. Or I may try in the morning and then have to wait until the afternoon because of error messages. The site is up; it loads. Mind you, I use a password manager so I'm not mistyping. When I log off, I'll often get an error just trying to safely log out of the system! 

A colleague from a different Africa nation was completely locked out of his bank. He contacted customer support to no avail. Thankfully, he knew someone in IT so he reached out to that person. I think (hope?) he now has access to his personal money now!

What about wiring money? Between North America and Europe it is pretty quick at just 2-3 days, or even less. In Africa? Could be a week. Often with fees. 

Last year, we had nine crew members who had to pay exorbitant fees to simply wire the equivalent of $1,000 to their home. Sometimes it would be $60 or all the way to $170. And this is usually without explanation. While we eventually resolved it by setting up US dollar accounts in their home country, it took many months to get to that point, lots of fees, and the constant reminder that it is not equal. This was just one country. Multiply that by dozens of countries and trying to work through those regulations and what is and isn't possible...it's not just the weekly time investment, but the inequality simply because I'm from the USA and another person is from somewhere else. 

I'm accustomed to "free banking" in America where the bank makes money on the float (the cash I have in my account) but here you pay a monthly fee for that privilege of having a bank account. If you have a commercial account, you may even have to pay taxes on owning an account and some of your transfers!

This is often the reality of banking. I knew it was hard to live here, but I didn't understand the micro-frustrations of daily living. So when we have grand ideas of micro-finance loans, creating jobs, or whatever it may be to build up economies within sub-Saharan Africa, those are worthy ideas and we should pursue them. However, we must also remember there is a huge amount of infrastructure required to get to that point. It's like that kitchen project: we just want to replace this one thing to make it prettier, but then when we peel off some paint, we discover dry rot. From there, we find other problems. Before we realize it, we've ripped off half the wall, are redoing plumbing or electrical, and upgrading a few other things — all because of that small, nice-to-have project that we started with. However, here the stakes are different. They're often harder for us to see, or imagine, or to rally enthusiasm around to fix the ten things before we can get to the one that initially lit our passion.

Oh, and that's if you're lucky enough to have a bank account.

Life Lately

 Not sure what else to call this except "Life Lately". A little of this and a little of that. Going with the old quote "A picture is worth a thousand words", here is a few thousand words :)

Sam's class made this for Jeffs finance team. Everything here overlaps in amazing ways, even the school and the bank. 

My patients continue to be the highlight of my days. About 55 cute kids in casts are coming to the rehab department, and very soon there will be more and more without casts! Then we make those beautiful straight legs strong before sending them home. Forever privileged to be part of their story. 

This is the current rehab team. They are from New Zealand, Australia, the UK, Belgium, the US, Netherlands, Spain and Sierra Leone. Beautiful people with servants hearts. 

These are our daycrew. They all live in Sierra Leone but travel everyday to the ship to work for Mercy Ships. They do translation, sure, but so much more. Exercises with patients, helping us understand the culture, etc etc etc. Most of these I have known for both years, a few from just this year, but all sweet friends of mine I will miss dearly when we sail away. 

We recently had an event called "African Praise Night". It was a beautiful night of people from around the world singing in many languages. Felt like heaven. 

Life in Sierra Leone is interesting. There is always something to see when walking/driving around. We were trying to figure out how many people were in this KayKay!

These are a few fun this things from the hospital. The first is all the feet are the orthopedic patients, and every hand is someone who has cared for them. Beautiful. Another is puzzle pieces patients colored, and finally a note written by a patient. Although a hospital and very clean (thank you housekeeping!) I love that it is also colorful and vibrant! 

Do you want to know more? Have questions? Reach out to us anytime! We love texts from home. 

Love,

J^2, L, S^2