It was a beautiful Sunday morning. With joy in our hearts and songs on our lips, we were getting ready to go to church.
Yes. Africans are a singing people. We sing while working, when we are sad and of course when we are happy.
That’s why I love church in Africa. It’s a vibrant, colourful gathering of all the saints and one can’t but help looking forward to the church services.
Hold on. Perhaps you are wondering who I am and why you should even listen to me. I get it. Let me give you a bit of my story.
My name is Katopeka Nkhoma, but to keep it simple just call me Kato.
I am a missionary serving in one of the villages of a small Southern African nation called Botswana.
A Zambian raised in Zimbabwe, I crossed the borders into Botswana at the age of 23. The villages in this sub Saharan part of the world needed the gospel desperately, and the labourers were few. I decided to answer the call and venture into the unknown.
Ten years later, married to a native, we continue to transform this nation one soul at a time. A nation whose economy is being slowed by HIV; one of the highest in the world. Child headed families have become the norm, with the eldest child sometimes forfeiting school in order to work for the family.
For these reasons the gospel has become an urgent need here.
And so the final custom before leaving for church is always the most important for me; giving our two children their offering. For me, this is an important lesson on its own. A lesson on the value of generosity.
As I handed them the usual coins, my daughter’s demeanour suddenly changed.
“What’s wrong dear?” My mind was already racing with the possible answers. Stomach-ache? The water hadn’t been its usual colour that week. Or could it be the flu that was doing its seasonal rounds?
Her answer a few thoughtful seconds later knocked me to the ground.
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