A few kilometers down the road we came to the village, a
cluster of mud huts with grass roofs. Beyond that the road turned into little more than a
footpath. Fortunately Poring’s compound was the next one. Three toddlers lay fast
asleep together in the dust in front of the hut, while many other children scurried
around. Poring’s mother emerged from th
e hut, along with more
children and Poring himself! Of course he was very surprised to see us! He doesn’t
speak Hausa, but we shook hands and he smiled. Then he showed me the nodular swellings on
his arms and legs, much bigger than before.
Our guide explained in the local language, Tarok, why we had come, and tried to get a picture of the situation. He learned that the man who brought Poring to Evangel was his uncle, not his father. The mother has left the father, who apparently has other wives as well since he already has twenty children. All the men were away in the fields, and it seemed none of them was too keen on bringing Poring back to Jos.
There wasn’t much more we could do. The very fact of our coming certainly underscored for the mother, neighbors, and teacher the importance of the matter. At the same time, the progression of the tumor probably means that further treatment will not be ultimately successful. I gave the mother some money for getting Poring to Jos, then said goodbye. I asked the teacher about the villager’s religion. "They’re pagan," he told me. That is they are not "Christian" or "Muslim" but follow their local traditional religion.
"I invite you all to go to the church," I told the people standing around as Mr. Bature translated. "God loves you and wants to bless you. At the church you can learn about God and how to follow him." Not much of a sermon, but all I could do at the moment. Poring’s brother had told me earlier that the people don’t even have a name for Jesus separate from God; they call both "Allah."
On the way back through the village we stopped and I had a chance to talk to the pastor. Mr. Bature explained our mission,
and I told the pastor we had invited the
people to the church. I’m praying that between my invitation and outreach on the part
of the church, Poring’s family and their neighbors will have a chance to fully hear
and understand the gospel.
We arrived back in Jos at 5:30, safe at home before dark (we never travel at night). I don’t know whether the trip was worth it to Poring, given his condition, but it certainly helped me have a better view of where our patients come from. I hope it also expressed a bit of God’s love to the villagers (Magit said it was a whole sermon just that we came to their town from Jos), something like looking for one sheep out of a hundred.
Thanks for your prayers for us in this tiny corner of the big world.
