What to do?

On Sunday Andrew and I went to church with a Tanzanian friend and his mom and siblings. Our friend's name is Shadrack and he's a young guy, maybe 20 years old. When Andrew finished language school and needed some more conversational practice, a local pastor connected him with Shadrack, who proved to be a good Swahili practicing partner. He knows English fairly well and is a smart, pleasant fellow and a very committed believer. After church (which lasted about three and a half hours), the pastor invited us and Shadrack's family over to his house for lunch. We visited and ate a meal, and about three hours later we apologized that we needed to leave and excused ourselves - visits here can get very long! Although it had been a nice visit and the food had been good, we were getting a little tired and ready to leave.

We gave Shadrack and his mom and little brother a ride home, and when we got to their house they, of course, wanted us to come in and visit. What could we say? Although Andrew was leaving for a week-long trip to Nairobi early the next morning and wasn't exactly ready for his trip just yet, we couldn't turn down their hospitality, so we went in to visit with them, although we didn't quite feel like it.

Shadrack's father died about three years ago (he had cancer). He was a carpenter, and from the looks of their house and the furniture in it, he was a good carpenter and made a decent living. To try to make ends meet after he died, Shadrack's family started a brick-making business. They built a kiln in their front year and make homemade bricks for people to use for building houses. It was not wildly profitable work, but they could get some money from their labor. However, we were recently the recipients of quite a bit of out-of-season rain here in Musoma. The wet season was very dry this year, and now it seems that the dry season is rather wet. The heavy rains destroyed all of their freshly-made bricks, ruined the big pile of sand they had stored up to make more bricks, and caved in their kiln! Shadrack and his mom were in despair. They showed us the damage and shrugged, saying, "We don't know what we'll do now. The rainy season isn't too far away now, and we're afraid it might rain again soon, even though it's supposed to be the dry season and doesn't usually rain this time of year."

Suddenly our concerns about being a bit tired and needing to get ready to go on a trip seemed very petty. We sat with the family, told them we were sorry for all their problems, and told them we'd pray for them. What does one say to a widow and her children who used to have a hard-working husband who gave them a nice life and are now destitute? We wanted to help, but what they need is employment, and we can't give that. Shadrack politely and indirectly inquired if we'll be hiring anyone at our office in the near future, but we're not. Shadrack is very smart and wants to go to college, but in order to get accepted at a public college in Tanzania, some bribes are required, which they can't afford (and don't want) to pay. He can get accepted at a private college, but can't afford the tuition. And even if he does manage to get a scholarship and go to college, that still means he leaves his mom alone with his younger brothers and sisters and no income. We had no answers for them, and other than a few encouraging words, we had nothing to offer. Our afternoon ended on a very sad note.