Yesterday was a hard day. On our way out to Thulwane to pass out some shoes and soccer jerseys, we got word that one of our “favorite” young boys (yes, we do have favorites…sometimes you just can’t help it), had been taken by his step-father and was missing. There was reason to believe this man would harm Mamba and we all started praying immediately for his safety. As soon as we arrived at the care point, Mamba’s grandmother, Make Nomsa, came to us, telling us the story and asking that we go inside the kitchen and pray. With all the women from the care point, we held hands in a circle in that little cinder block building and stormed the gates of heaven…in different languages, at the same time, with grief and singing and pleading. My prayers just kept being for angels to surround sweet Mamba. For comfort and peace for him. I just kept seeing him encircled by angels.
Mark left to go with Musa to help look for him. Allison and I stayed at the care point with our girls and with Hlobsile to hand out the shoes and jerseys. It was great to have something fun and joyful to do in the midst of the strain and waiting. Always so fun to the see the kids with new clothes. The young boys were especially proud of their jerseys. Wishing we could hand one to Mamba.
Allison, the girls and I were playing with the younger kids in a big circle when we heard wailing. Like I have never heard before. We soon realized it was coming from Make Nomsa. She had received a phone call that Mamba had been found. That his body had been found in the bush. How do you comfort a woman who is grieving this kind of news? Standing in the middle of a dirt road in the middle of the African bush? Literally physically supporting her, Allison and I walked her back to the care point, to her friends and family waiting there to speak words of comfort to her in her own language. Over 100 kids looking on. Some of them surely knew what was happening. Many of them did not have any idea that their friend, Mamba, was gone. Our girls were obviously curious and concerned, but after being assured that it was “ok” and we would explain later, were troopers…continuing to play with the kids and be content with doing what they were there to do, and leaving us to deal with the grieving adults.
The next couple of hours were confusing and difficult. Things aren’t handled here like they would be in the States. The family wanted to go see the body. Which was still where it had been found, in the bush, but too far for them to walk. So many of them piled in our car and Allison took them on the horrible search. They ended up literally searching the forest on foot and thankfully did not find him. Hlobsile, and I stayed at the care point with the girls, who were climbing a tree and throwing stones at goats and chickens and trying not to ask too many questions. Bless them.
In the meantime, we found out that Mark and Musa, with the help of other family members had found the step-father. He had taken poison and was near death. They took him to a nearby clinic where he soon died. With that part of the equation settled, many more joined the search for little Mamba. It was soon confirmed that his body had been found and identified. Putting an end to our hoping that this was all going to turn out all right. That there was some horrible, terrible mistake and everything would go back to “normal”.
Somehow, Mamba’s family was taken home and Mark and Allison joined back up with me and the girls and we headed home. The adults were able to fill Steve in on the events of the day (he had been taking care of issues in town) and do some “processing”. After dinner we talked to the girls and explained what had been happening. Family prayer time was difficult as Steve and I tucked our girls in bed and listened to them pray for comfort for their friend Mamba’s family. They knew this little boy. They had played with him and laughed with him. I wish they didn’t have to be exposed to this. Why had we been out there when all this happened?
I wish they had not had to witness this evil and grief and despair.
Pray for all of us as we deal with this grief and try to somehow comfort this family. Pray for Kriek and Jumbo, who were especially close to Mamba. Pray for the d-team, many of whom live in this community and who minister to and serve these families. Pray for Crystal and Squeaky who “sponsored” Mamba and for the rest of the Westwood family, many of whom knew and loved Mamba. To know him was definitely to love him. He had a beautiful, mischievous smile. He was a very smart kid and was identified early on as one of the brightest and most “promising” boys at Thulwane. When he was little, he liked to bite, so he was well-known by anyone who came near him! Many times he has held my hand, or sat in my lap, or climbed on Steve’s legs. A few times he has even put my finger in his mouth…..never biting hard, more like just chewing! We will miss him.
How can God make something good come out of something so tragic, so stupid, so pointless? I guess that is what we will all be trying to figure out in the days ahead.
