…it will always be in response for the cry of the needy.
The MCST Missionary Cathechists of St. Therese of the Child Jesus based at the Nunciature, Abuja, requested for food, grains, toys, clothing and any other item that are usable. Many Samaritans responded. Among them are the ladies from Dantata & Sawoe Life Camp. Not only did they give used and slightly used toys and clothing; they also gave new shirts and donated bag of rice, bag of semovita, bag of beans and cartons of fruit juice.
Mahesie, Vangie, Angie, Nancy and Anurupa
On the 1st Friday of the year 2009, at 1:00 pm, 2nd of January 2009, the team led by Sr. Resurreccion, Sr. Ifleada and Sr. Mary Grace, and 5 laywomen embarked on this mission. Target place is St. Molumba’s Parish, Igu Village under Bwari Local Government. From the main expressway to Dutse junction is 31 kms and from Bwari to Igu is additional 11.5 km. The Gbagyi tribe are the indigenes of Abuja but somehow found themselves in a dire situation in contrast with the glaring opulence of the present Abuja residents.
Sis Res sent a text message – ‘we’re ready.’ I was still in the office rounding off the remainder of holidays’ work. Meanwhile, Devesh Gupta, my Indian colleague rushed to buy bag of beans and have these added to our ‘treasure trove’. I immediately called my driver and rushed to our life camp. I borrowed a bus from our Central Store and I heard Shim, our Nigerian storekeeper, talking to the assigned driver of the bus ‘drive the bus here, fill the tank and meet Miss Vangie. She is going to Usman Dam.’ Gee whiz… on the radio? Everybody in the camp will think I leave the office and decided to go picnicking at this hour!
As agreed upon, the Asian ladies from our camp Mahesie Harrer and Anurupa Som, promptly arrived at our designated spot – the Clubhouse, bringing along with them food stuff, toys, clothing, etc. Mahesie told me that she informed the inhabitants of our life camp and they ‘promised’ but somehow did not find time to redeem the promise. Maybe, it’s because of the holidays hang-over. I would know that Asians would be the first to respond to any call – simply because we easily relate to such situation being almost always in the midst of poverty either caused by natural disasters or man-made disasters.
When everything was set, Angie, Nancy and I took off. I requested my boss’ driver (boss on Christmas Leave in Germany) to drive the bus. Our first stop is the Nunciature.
The sisters were nowhere in sight. I phoned Sr. Res and said they’re coming. 10, 15, 20, 30 minutes ticked by, my small intestines were already gnawing at the big ones and they’re still not here. Luckily, the ever girl scout spirit in Angie and Nancy, had the foresight of picking a basket with oven-roasted chicken, bread and drinking water. We, together with the driver, sat for the 'sumptous' meal. Just then Sr. Ifleada came and asked us to partake in their lunch. We jumped at the chance and left the food to Nathaniel, our driver.
And then, we hit the road. Sr. Ifleada and Sr. Mary Grace with Mrs. Christine and the bulk of the items in the Nunciature’s van and Sr. Res, Mrs. Florence, Angie, Nancy and myself in our Jinbie Haise bus. The going was fine till we reached the junction of the expressway – to the right is Usman Dam and to the left is our route, getting rougher and rougher as we sped along.
On the 1st Friday of the year 2009, at 1:00 pm, 2nd of January 2009, the team led by Sr. Resurreccion, Sr. Ifleada and Sr. Mary Grace, and 5 laywomen embarked on this mission. Target place is St. Molumba’s Parish, Igu Village under Bwari Local Government. From the main expressway to Dutse junction is 31 kms and from Bwari to Igu is additional 11.5 km. The Gbagyi tribe are the indigenes of Abuja but somehow found themselves in a dire situation in contrast with the glaring opulence of the present Abuja residents.Sis Res sent a text message – ‘we’re ready.’ I was still in the office rounding off the remainder of holidays’ work. Meanwhile, Devesh Gupta, my Indian colleague rushed to buy bag of beans and have these added to our ‘treasure trove’. I immediately called my driver and rushed to our life camp. I borrowed a bus from our Central Store and I heard Shim, our Nigerian storekeeper, talking to the assigned driver of the bus ‘drive the bus here, fill the tank and meet Miss Vangie. She is going to Usman Dam.’ Gee whiz… on the radio? Everybody in the camp will think I leave the office and decided to go picnicking at this hour!
As agreed upon, the Asian ladies from our camp Mahesie Harrer and Anurupa Som, promptly arrived at our designated spot – the Clubhouse, bringing along with them food stuff, toys, clothing, etc. Mahesie told me that she informed the inhabitants of our life camp and they ‘promised’ but somehow did not find time to redeem the promise. Maybe, it’s because of the holidays hang-over. I would know that Asians would be the first to respond to any call – simply because we easily relate to such situation being almost always in the midst of poverty either caused by natural disasters or man-made disasters.
When everything was set, Angie, Nancy and I took off. I requested my boss’ driver (boss on Christmas Leave in Germany) to drive the bus. Our first stop is the Nunciature.
The sisters were nowhere in sight. I phoned Sr. Res and said they’re coming. 10, 15, 20, 30 minutes ticked by, my small intestines were already gnawing at the big ones and they’re still not here. Luckily, the ever girl scout spirit in Angie and Nancy, had the foresight of picking a basket with oven-roasted chicken, bread and drinking water. We, together with the driver, sat for the 'sumptous' meal. Just then Sr. Ifleada came and asked us to partake in their lunch. We jumped at the chance and left the food to Nathaniel, our driver.
And then, we hit the road. Sr. Ifleada and Sr. Mary Grace with Mrs. Christine and the bulk of the items in the Nunciature’s van and Sr. Res, Mrs. Florence, Angie, Nancy and myself in our Jinbie Haise bus. The going was fine till we reached the junction of the expressway – to the right is Usman Dam and to the left is our route, getting rougher and rougher as we sped along.
Unfortunately, the A/C wasn’t functioning and we opted to open the windows. ‘Fresh’ Harmattan wind freely entered our noses. Sr. Res was happily chatting while my head kept leaning to the right and her voice was just a drone getting farther and farther away …wham…blag.
I was still smarting from the sudden hit and jolt when the bus slowed down. We were already climbing a steeper dirt road. I looked down to the left – a very deep crevice. To the right, a deeper cranny and the bus is just the exact width of the road. Sr. Res commented that the place is beautiful even in this very dry season.
Beautiful? All I know is that a very plumpy lady seated in front with the driver may help tilt the bus in favor of the crevice!
We passed several more landmarks of the same nature and Sr. Res pointed a clearing – ‘that’s the parish. The narrow road was lined with stones, some sort of ‘this way, please’.
We passed several more landmarks of the same nature and Sr. Res pointed a clearing – ‘that’s the parish. The narrow road was lined with stones, some sort of ‘this way, please’.
Rev. Fr. Stephen Meseda, the Parish Priest and the Associate Priest Rev. Fr. Jude Nwigwe welcomed us. After all the introductions, we alloted the grains for easy distribution.
The 
villagers dressed in their Sunday’s best (after all it’s a big occasion) at first trickled and then literally teemed the place.
Sr. Ifleada took charge of the children while Sr. Res and Sr. Mary Grace with Mrs. Christine and Mrs. Florence started with the adults. 
After a substantial portion had been distributed, Fr. Meseda said that we have to go deep to the actual village which is just ‘close by’. Mrs. Florence, Angie, Nancy and I rode in Fr. Jude’s ‘Jaguar’ – a ‘well-used’ Toyota Pick-Up. Srs. Res, Ifleada and Mary Grace and Mrs. Christine were in the van.
Fr. Jude, still a young man, has a very exuberant nature. Mrs. Florence was wary of the time. How long is the journey?
Just 2 hours, Fr. Jude said merrily. We almost choked.
2 hrs. going + 2 hrs return trip = 4 hrs. Getting dark journey?
We were silent while he tried to amuse Mrs. Florence who appeared to hail from the same village as he is.
‘Anybody who had been here is amazed that such a place exists. You will soon see.’
To get my mind off the time, I suddenly blurted: Fr. Jude? Right? From Thaddeus or Escariot?
I immediately regretted. Not my question. But the manner he answered! He turned right angle to answer, taking his eyes off the narrow rugged terrain!
‘But of course you should know, it’s Thaddeus.’
‘But there is nothing wrong with Escariot. Without him, we wouldn’t be celebrating the Resurrection.’
‘That’s another point of view. And yes, you’re right. And to reach the village, we have to pass ‘that’ bridge.’
Mrs. Florence said, ‘that bridge?’ And true enough he is referring to the unfinished bridge. A third of the pillar supporting the bridge was just hanging, water passing through. We passed through the river. A cow flared its nostrils at me. ‘And here cattle, people and everybody else commune – whether it’s for a swim, laundry or drinks.’
The pick-up passed with an A mark and the van followed suit.
And there, we were. Fr. Meseda arrived ahead of us in his motorcycle. The Chief of the village gathered the people and we met them all seated in an open space. Adults and children. The women who looked older and wizened had a look of anticipation and resignation. Of whatever they will get. Of whatever fate will cast to them. They were a well-behaved crowd with dignity still intact even when at the receiving end.
To get my mind off the time, I suddenly blurted: Fr. Jude? Right? From Thaddeus or Escariot?
I immediately regretted. Not my question. But the manner he answered! He turned right angle to answer, taking his eyes off the narrow rugged terrain!
‘But of course you should know, it’s Thaddeus.’
‘But there is nothing wrong with Escariot. Without him, we wouldn’t be celebrating the Resurrection.’
‘That’s another point of view. And yes, you’re right. And to reach the village, we have to pass ‘that’ bridge.’
Mrs. Florence said, ‘that bridge?’ And true enough he is referring to the unfinished bridge. A third of the pillar supporting the bridge was just hanging, water passing through. We passed through the river. A cow flared its nostrils at me. ‘And here cattle, people and everybody else commune – whether it’s for a swim, laundry or drinks.’
The pick-up passed with an A mark and the van followed suit.
And there, we were. Fr. Meseda arrived ahead of us in his motorcycle. The Chief of the village gathered the people and we met them all seated in an open space. Adults and children. The women who looked older and wizened had a look of anticipation and resignation. Of whatever they will get. Of whatever fate will cast to them. They were a well-behaved crowd with dignity still intact even when at the receiving end.
A young boy who suddenly found his tongue gave this parting shot ‘ni hao’ and was an instant celebrity.
We soon agreed to go. Fr. Jude reversed while we waited. There was only ONE BIG hitch. Mrs. Florence CAN NOT enter in the pick-up.
‘No problem.’
He reversed again, stop at a deeper crater where the side is raised. Holding tight to the extended seat belt, she managed to raise herself and unto the seat. We all heaved a sigh of relief.
‘Fr. Jude, you must be used to this place and the people that it will be very hard for you to adjust if you will be assigned to a let’s say more civilized place,’ she mused.
Fr. Jude promptly replied, ‘ ahhh, the spirit is in me – the spirit of adjustment!’
We all agreed and prayed that he may have a better car and a loud AMEN.
We left for home. This time, Sr. Res led the Rosary. Along the way, we saw the van stopping by the road side – Sr. Ifleada buying vegetables and fruits. Fringe benefit in pastoral work. A nice blouse caught Nancy’s attention. Mrs. Florence talked to the vendor in their dialect. He gave the 2 blouses in half price.
It was dark when we reached ‘civilization.’ Our ‘Asian Bus – the Jin Bei’ developed a problem. The very experienced driver just maintained the speed of 40mph that even bicycles overtook us. Mrs. Florence’s driver was already waiting at the Nunciature. We drove straight to the Life Camp and I let the driver use my car to take Sr. Res and Mrs. Florence safely to the Nunciature.
‘No problem.’
He reversed again, stop at a deeper crater where the side is raised. Holding tight to the extended seat belt, she managed to raise herself and unto the seat. We all heaved a sigh of relief.
‘Fr. Jude, you must be used to this place and the people that it will be very hard for you to adjust if you will be assigned to a let’s say more civilized place,’ she mused.
Fr. Jude promptly replied, ‘ ahhh, the spirit is in me – the spirit of adjustment!’
We all agreed and prayed that he may have a better car and a loud AMEN.
We left for home. This time, Sr. Res led the Rosary. Along the way, we saw the van stopping by the road side – Sr. Ifleada buying vegetables and fruits. Fringe benefit in pastoral work. A nice blouse caught Nancy’s attention. Mrs. Florence talked to the vendor in their dialect. He gave the 2 blouses in half price.
It was dark when we reached ‘civilization.’ Our ‘Asian Bus – the Jin Bei’ developed a problem. The very experienced driver just maintained the speed of 40mph that even bicycles overtook us. Mrs. Florence’s driver was already waiting at the Nunciature. We drove straight to the Life Camp and I let the driver use my car to take Sr. Res and Mrs. Florence safely to the Nunciature.
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