A Journey to the Mmabana Community Outreach Project in Choma/Zambia

The driveway with a gate made of straw is hardly wide enough for our Kia Picanto when my Mom and I arrived at the Mmabana Community Outreach Project of Choma on the 8^th May. “You are the first people comin' to this new place with a car”, says Patrick Mookeenah who functions as a project manager. They moved in only a week ago after having undergone much struggle with their former landlord. We are happy to see each other again, talk and laugh.

We unload our car boot which is full of food. “We haven’t really eaten for days”, says Nosiku Kalonga, “the only time we get food is when friends are visiting us.” She is the founder of the project and her email address says nosikuloves*. This expresses her vision. She grew up in poverty. Lost both parents and has two children. After a long time of struggling for money, food and shelter she ended up in Hillbrow where she met Monique Dalka who accepted her into her house and cared for her. Nosiku still calls her mother. Now she is here in Choma at the age of 26 having nothing, but is prepared to give everything. She is back in Zambia – her motherland – having given up all the comforts of Johannesburg. Her vision is as simple as it is powerful: sharing the love of God through acts of love.

In the afternoon, children come to play games and read books. There are no shelves, just a few chairs, but one could say it’s a kind of library. “The kids learn reading in school, but don’t have access to books. How can we build a better society when children are confronted with the same disadvantages that their parents faced?” Patrick states. The banner saying “Mmabana Community Outreach Project” proudly adorns the wall. The youth welcomes us with drumming, singing and dancing. Children glance at us, shyly and curiously.

While we all go to bed tired of an impressive day, Nosiku stays awake, gets out her books and starts studying. She is studying through the University of Lusaka and wants to become a lawyer so she can make a difference in her country.

The next day we go for a walk in Choma to reach out to people by visiting those who need help. We fetch water, do the dishes, pray for them – just small things, but signs of love. The poverty is obvious. Most people don’t have running water and electricity. We visit a school. The Zambian flag is waving in the wind on the empty schoolyard. The principal welcomes us, but the other teachers aren’t there. More than 60 pupils are sitting in one classroom and suddenly stop talking as we enter. They seem to be happy, maybe because there are no lessons today. “We don’t have enough teachers”, explains the principal, “the government delegated the task to run the school to the community. They only sent three teachers for 500 pupils.” And even these three are not there today. The injustice is hardly surprising, considering that there was a trial where the former president (Frederick Chiluba) as accused for stealing 46 million US-dollars of public money (link). The idea of holding the community responsible for running a school seems unacceptable considering the unemployment rate in Choma, which is about 80% (figure of Central Statistical Office Zambia 2000).

After eating together with the group of helpers, many youths – including teenage mothers who have already more than one child – are flocking to the centre to watch a movie about perseverance. They have a beamer, but not enough seats for everybody. So we went to the neighbouring church and borrowed some benches. The discussion in the small groups seems like an intellectual debate and for a moment I seem to see highly-educated, ambitious people and not poor folks with little hope.

In the end of our journey to Choma, we take pictures in front of the project centre. Everybody wants to be seen on the photo together with the white guy or the car. We had only spent one and a half days in Choma, but the people bid us farewell as if we had known each other for months.

With the next morning comes the time for departure. Back to the border, pass the Zambezi river, drive through Botswana again, wait for an elephant family to cross the road, take the N1 to Johannesburg. Back to the City of Gold, with its huge bank buildings, 12-lane-highways and electric-fence-driveways. The MCOP in Zambia just has a gate made of straw. But what they really have, what they mean to the community, that is worth much more than Joburg’s gold: people who are truly interested in the fate of those next to them, prospects for a better life, a place where love is shared unconditionally, an oasis in the desert.

Raphael Schanz, German volunteer at St. Peter’s By The Lake Lutheran Church, Johannesburg (May 2010)

* Please take note that this former email address “nosikuloves@yahoo.com” is not in use anymore since it was high-jacked for a scam Please direct all new emails to Nosiku using mcop.choma(at)mmabana.org. Thank you for understanding.