ZAMBIA TRIP: PART TWO

NO ROOM IN THE INN

So there we were, nine o’clock at night and no place to stay. And let me mention, Lusaka isn’t exactly the place where you want to be stuck. There is no Holiday Inn around the corner, or Motel 6 down the road.

Scott talked to the manager of the hotel, trying to figure out what had happened, especially since he’d talked to someone to make sure they didn’t give our rooms away. Scott had stayed at the place we were at and had taken their number, planning to return. What he didn’t plan on, was that the number belonged to the manager. . .who now worked somewhere else. Turns out we did have reservations, but at a completely different place, and thankfully, they still had room.

THE CLINIC

The next day, we left for Mongu. Mongu is located in Western Zambia about 70 kilometers from Angola. Sand is everywhere, and four wheel drive is a must. We arrived at dinner time with plans to get the clinic ready the next day, but at this point, not only where the medicines still stuck in customs, we found out about another problem. The plane transporting the doctor was broken down and six of the teams bags were lost, including most of the alternative medicine that had been donated knowing what we’d bought was stuck in customs.

We made plans to go ahead with the clinic, in faith, believing that God would work out the details. They found four bags, but a second plane had mechanical problems. Finally, a smaller plane was sent in and the doctor, four bags of donated medicines were found by the airlines, and left South Africa and headed to Mongu so we could go ahead with the clinic.

We opened the doors Thursday morning with no doctor and no medicines. You can imagine how excited we were when we heard that about nine o’clock the doctor’s plane had finally landed. By the end of the day we’d ministered to over fifty people. Each person was not only treated physically by the doctor, but an evangelist met with each person, praying over their individual needs, sharing Christ, and often studying the word with them. Several accepted Christ and came back for discipling.




Our missionary pilot, Brian, prays with one of the patients.









Bia, a professional artist on our team, drew many of their faces, then gave the picture to them as a gift.











By early Friday, we were running out of medicine and there were no guarentees that the large shipment of medicine held up in customs was going to be released in time. Still, we kept treating patients. The local hospital gave us a prescription pad and promised to honor all prescriptions given. We in turn, would give all the medicine coming in to the hospital. This would fill all the presciptions and give them plenty of extra medicine for their own resources.





Our makeshift phamacy where we filled all the prescriptions












Scott teaching on Saturday







By Friday afternoon, I’d already given out the fifty spots and pushed through a couple more hating to turn anyone away. A young mother came with her family and her four month old twins. Immediately I could see that there was something seriously wrong with one of the twins. Her head was swollen and she was limp. Not able to turn them away, I let them in the end of the line.

Soon after examining the infant, the doctor spoke to me. The baby had hydrocephalus, a situation where the cavities inside the brain would have to be drained and a shunt put in. She would die if not treated in Lusaka.

The cost? 300,000 Kwacha.

Tomorrow I’ll tell you what happened to the little girl and her family.

Blessings,

Lisa