CMS missionaries Malcolm and Elizabeth Richards share their adventures of teaching at a marriage seminar in the war-ravaged Democratic Republic of Congo, where polygamy and tradition make it difficult for Christian marriages to last.

We don't usually plan to learn something and to teach it at the same time. We hoped when we moved to Kindu that we would have time to learn about the local culture before we started any teaching. Certainly living in the bishop's house gave us first hand experience of the complexity of family life and family responsibilities.

We were pleased to be invited to an Archdeaconry seminar on marriage to be held in a remote parish" but then a little surprised to be told we would be teaching at it. Marriage is a problem here in Maniema. Church leaders feel that many Christians including the pastors do not understand biblical teaching about marriage and nor do they live it. The seminar was for all clergy and their wives so they can in turn teach their congregations. We decided to use all the adult learning techniques we knew and not to make judgements about local practices. We would use our status as newcomers to ask questions and hear the problems. We would use discussions, theatre and Bible studies to help the pastors and their wives to find their own solutions.

We shared the six hours teaching on each of two days with the bishop's wife, Amunazo. We used the local church; thirty of us seated around the mud and stick church with a leaf roof. Everyone was billeted in houses around the village. We were in the only house that has a tin roof. It belongs to one of the Christians at the local parish. It has four bedrooms coming off the living area, one for each wife.

The journey to Kakola was amazing. None of the stories we were told really prepared us for the reality of the experience. It was a 62km trip that took five hours on a motor bike. This included the many stops on the way to push the bike across log bridges- remnants of bridges that once took cars.

The first 19km (after taking the bikes across the Congo River in a dugout canoe) were on tarmac. The next 10km were on a track almost wide enough for a car. Despite recent rain and potholes we were still feeling confident. Malcolm had not ridden a motor bike for 11 years and Elizabeth had never gone further than a couple of km as a passenger. We also carried all we would need for our four days in an isolated village in the bush (mosquito net, bedding, first aid kit etc). We travelled with the bishop's wife who was on the back of a bike ridden by an experienced chauffeur.

Then the track narrowed. For most of the remaining 30km it was no wider than the motor bike. People and bikes we met on the way had to go into the bushes to make room for us. We were glad of our helmets- they protected our heads from the leaves and branches that whipped us as we passed. At times we had to duck under overhanging branches. At one point a huge fallen tree blocked the path- the drivers had to negotiate a temporary muddy track while the passengers walked. We started to look forward to the river crossings as an opportunity to get off the bike- the worse the bridge, the longer we could be off the bike.

In one tiny village, after 3 hours of riding, we were warmly welcomed, taken into the church to rest and food that was already prepared was immediately brought out. We were surprised to hear Peter Dawson (CMS-A) had travelled there by car in the early 90's. The years of war have taken a huge toll in terms of lost bridges and roads no longer navigable by anything larger than a motor bike.

In one village we saw government workers with a generator and computer working to register the population in preparation for the elections next year. We asked how the equipment got there- it is taken by helicopter to a large centre and then carried to villages on peoples heads or by bicycles- about six people to push the bikes. It is a very slow process, especially when the generator breaks down.

Another complication is the rain. We were so relieved that we didn't get rained on. The track was bad enough as it was. The narrow track often had a high and a low side; the low side was muddy and the high side had branches growing over it. Occasionally the bike would slide into the mud as we avoided branches. A couple of times we fell over. Fortunately at the speeds we were going, no damage was done. Our confidence and excitement ebbed as the hours went by.

We reached a largish village with signs of decorations and a large, recently constructed bamboo and palm leaf structure. Our pastors and their wives came pouring out to greet us- we realised we had arrived! We were taken into the church for prayers of thanksgiving. It seemed their relief at our arrival was as great as ours. God had answered their prayers and the joy of arrival helped take away the worries of the trip. Another relief- we wouldn't have to get back on the bike for another three days!

We were quickly provided with water so we could wash and change. A bedroom had been prepared for us. We spent the remainder of the day resting and chatting to people. We took in the sights and sounds of a village in the middle of the forest; groups chatting, women preparing food, goats and chickens running around, and children watching us. Every now and then someone would walk past with a recently killed monkey looking for a customer. After dinner there was a short church service. By then it was dark and slight rain took the edge off the heat and humidity. We sat listening to the church choirs who battled for the visitor's attention for the next few hours.

During the day we taught at the seminar while village life went on around us: goats and chickens both inside and out, people walking nearly a kilometre to the water hole to fetch water and wash, people passing with bikes carrying goods to sell, people making their way to plots of land where they have planted rice and cassava, children screaming, goats eating the palm leaves around the church. It was still the start of the rains and the village water source was still dry. When it rains properly, this will flow again and the women will not have to trek to the river.

We were told stories of what it was like when the rebels took over. The region has still not recovered. We were introduced to evangelists and church leaders who lost their bibles in the war and have no possibility of buying another. They aren't even sold in Kindu, the provincial capital, but need to be ordered from another town.

In the seminar we heard about marriage customs, how wives are chosen, the incidence of polygamy, about the influence of extended family, about divorce practices. Our pastors and their wives have a hard time sticking together and not being influenced by the advice of family and by tradition. Church weddings are rare. After hearing about the local situation, we investigated together what the Bible says about marriage. Elizabeth discussed with them strategies for making their marriages stronger.

We had mixed feelings about the end of the seminar; only one more night in a mud hut, coping with spiders and rats and a toilet that is a hole in the ground surrounded by a mud and stick construction. Only one more night until Malcolm was to preach at the Sunday service and then we were to get back on the motor bike for the return trip.

It rained while we were there- it poured the whole night with thunder and lighting. It was so loud on the tin roof we couldn't hear each other talk. The next day all paths had turned to mud. We hoped it would dry out enough for the return trip. At least the rain reduced the humidity.

The village was full of children (50%of population of DR Congo is under fifteen years). They don't have a Sunday School. We decided to teach the children a few Swahili Sunday School songs. One pastor's wife told us she is in charge of Sunday school for the Archdeaconry and a seminar is desperately needed to train teachers- would we do that as part of our work? We agreed but wondered how people can teach Sunday School when they don't even have a Bible.

On Sunday, the church service was planned to begin at 8.30 to enable us to begin the return trip in good time. There were a few concerns: it might rain again, the path would still be muddy from the rain 2 days previously and we had to be back in Kindu in time for the last river crossings at about 6pm. There was not much leeway for unforeseen problems.

In reality the church service was underway by about 9am and over by 11.30. Malcolm began the sermon by apologising that he didn't have robes. He explained that he only had room for robes or a mosquito net and chose the mosquito net- he had offered to the archdeacon that he wear the mosquito net as it was white..the offer was declined. After the service the local Christians presented the Bishops wife with a goat. We then ate a hurried lunch, and set off.

The return trip began with the motor bike engine cutting out at unexpected times. We were grateful for the presence of the chauffeur who realised there was water in the petrol and on the spot dismantled the carburetor and cleaned it out. Having had a few days to adjust and rehearse the trip in our minds, it was much more endurable. Malcolm was much better equipped and we had no incidents. The mud however was worse and there were many stretches were Amunazo and Elizabeth got off and walked due to the slipperiness and steepness of the track. We arrived back in Kindu in good time to cross the river. The rain held off until even those walking had arrived home safely. We were very mindful of prayers being answered and of God's blessing on the whole arrangements and teaching.

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