Oblates See Progress in Zambia
Written by: Fr. William Morell, OMI
Santa Maria Mission, Lukulu Zambia:
“getting there was a lot more than half the fun” – To see and to be seen.
Not the pleasant 3-hour cruise upriver I had been expecting, I lay there thinking. The trip was 10 hours of frustrating and uncertain river mishaps. In the silent darkness of my bed, I scratched mosquito bites and asked myself, why had I come here?
Lukulu, on the upper reaches of the mighty Zambezi River, had been the landing place of the “founding fathers” of the Oblate Mission in Zambia. I had visited them the year after they had taken over the mission from the Capuchin Franciscans 40 years ago.
I was back. Why?
The next day, Agnes reminded me. I didn’t remember her, but I had likely met her at her at the same leper colony 39 years before. That was the first of my many visits to Lukulu over the years. I was all eyes, then. There was so much to see—the Oblates were just starting their ministry with the poor in this remote, backwater outpost. But the village for lepers that the parish maintained held a special place in my interest and imagination. Who could look on lepers and leprosy itself without foreboding? The reputation of the disease—the horror of its contagion, its sad place in scriptural accounts, and the stories of Damian the Leper—all of this gave the work of the Oblates in the Lukulu leprosarium a place of special respect. As I returned there on this visit, I remembered Mass in their chapel. It was filled with lepers—nearly packed, as they say, “shoulder to shoulder.” I was proud of how well I was doing considering what I had heard over the years about leprosy. The awareness of the approach of the kiss of peace changed that. What was I to do when I heard the priest say, “Let us exchange a sign of peace”?
I shouldn’t have worried. It was quite literally taken out of my hands when an enthusiastic leper turned to me with the stub of what was left of his hand and said, “Peace be with you.”
Now, Agnes extended the stump of her hand to greet me back.
Now, she was alone. The total number of residents in the “leper colony” had been reduced to two. The program of diagnosis and treatment, along with the re-education of the population about the disease and its contagion, had halted the progress of the disease and changed the way villages and families had ostracized members who had contracted Hansens disease, as leprosy is now called. The deformities and mutilations so common then had been prevented by early and effective medications. Early detection and treatment had worked. No longer needed was the treatment center and the clinic built by the Oblate lay missionary, Bill Fuller, a couple years after the four Oblate founders had arrived (Fr’s. Paul Duffy, Pat Gitzen, Jack Joyce, and Bro. John Keplinger). No longer needed were all the houses for burnt-out cases who had been cast out by their fear-filled villages. In four decades, the efforts of the Holy Cross Sisters from Lukulu Mission Hospital, the collaboration of the Oblates, and the support they received from benefactors had achieved their goal. The leper colony was no longer needed, demonstrating what seems to be a missionary principle: what we do best, we do together.
The existence of the mission is still important for the most abandoned in the community. The needs of the local community still call for the resources, ingenuity, responsiveness, and concern of the mission—and its missionary partners and supporters.
Of course, the local parish community reaches out to those in need. That was evident in the detailed needs list that Pastor, Fr. Regean, OMI, and his associate Fr. Bright, OMI, presented to the visiting team that I was part of. The team included Fr. David P. Uribe, OMI, and Mr. Kevin Miller from the US Province’s Fundraising office and Fr. Emmanuel Mulenga, OMI, from the Province administration. We learned of the specific needs of especially vulnerable community members: homes for the elderly, scholarships for children on the margin of society (including fees plus meals), and various self-help projects for youth and women such as cage-fish farming, brick making, and cassava packaging.
The list reminded me of the two principal projects that we had come to see, projects aimed at building capacity of the local population: the Santa Maria Nursing Academy and the crafts Training Center of Lukulu.
Several years ago, when the local bishop, Oblate Bishop Evans Chinyama, asked me what I thought about his idea to convert the abandoned hospital campus at the parish into a professional school of nursing, I said, “a pipe dream.” An accredited professional school in the Zambian bush—far, really far—from resources like qualified teachers, transport, and teaching materials all situated in a dilapidated 60-year-old hospital campus! What a dream. Certainly, it would be life-changing for aspiring young people in the bush. But frankly, how to pull off such a project? A daring hope but impossible dream.
What did I see at the Nursing academy in Lukulu, many miles upriver on the banks of the mighty Zambezi? Nothing short of a miracle of determination and collaboration. This year, the academy will graduate its first class in its three-year program! The school’s 150 nursing students are proud and hard working. They are eager to address the chronic shortage of nurses in rural Zambia. The Academy’s early success has given rise to new dreams. Since the nursing school, by government regulation, is limited to an annual intake of fifty students, it plans to expand by offering two new and distinct programs: midwifery and public health.
When Bishop Evans asked me what I thought of expanding the school, the words “pipe dream” did not come to mind. What did come to mind were the current needs that the school director and principal, miracle worker Irish Sr. Pat Hanvey, had told us about: more classrooms and housing blocks, expanding dining and kitchen faculties, upgrades to the laundry, a security fence around the vulnerable property, and student scholarships. And now, they want to add two entirely new departments! it would take a miracle. I thought of the wall on the building in the center of campus. It named about 20 donor organizations and individuals from all over the US, Australia, and Europe, including the Missionary Oblate Partnership of the US Oblate Province. The Bishop’s dream, Sr. Pat’s determination, her very competent faculty, and eager supporters had achieved one miracle on the Zambezi; why not a couple more? In the Mission, all agree: “what we do best, we do together.”
Our visit to the Lukulu Crafts Training School, run by Oblate Brother Max Mwakacheya, further convinced us of the possibilities for seemingly impossible dreams. Here, the capacities of young men and women in the remote outback of Zambia are developed in much-needed areas of expertise: construction, mechanics, carpentry, computer skills, and clothing design and manufacture. How is this possible so far away from resources? Decades of support, especially from Ireland have helped the local community build and equip the center Now, as Br. Max explained, the equipment needs upgrading, a kitchen and dining room have become real necessities, and many students need scholarships to attend this center dedicated to changing their prospects in life.
Why had I and the visiting team come to Lukulu?
True, my visit was meant to meet local Oblates and community leaders, to see what they had accomplished over the years, and to understand their further needs. But in my days in the village, I came to realize an equally important reason for my visit: not only to see but also to be seen. We on the visiting team were in Lukulu so that the local community could see that their needs and progress mattered to people far from the village. There are people worlds away from Lukulu who care about the wellbeing of the people of Santa Maria Mission.
The concern of compassionate and mission-minded people finds expression in their support of and donations for the projects I saw and for further needs the community had explained. I remembered everything that had been accomplished in conquering leprosy over the last 40 years was an example of that. A coalition of the people of remote Lukulu and benefactors in far-away places had brought about that change.
After three days, I left Lukulu much impressed, much encouraged, and much changed. But not a whole lot wiser regarding mission travel. At the urging of the coxswain, who assured us that all was repaired, the team got back into the boat with the faulty motor that had brought us upriver. This time it only took 50 minutes of smooth sailing before the motor coughed, hesitated, and stopped… but that’s another story.