Sunday in Maamba

Sundays begin early for those going on outreaches. David was up and out the door by 6:30 last Sunday. Martone and Minnie, teachers at the Namwianga Secondary School, had asked David to drive them and a high school boys’ singing group to Maamba for an outreach. I was staying behind to host the Zambian Board members who had gathered at Namwianga for a meeting.

David pulled up at the boys’ dorm and the six guys came running out to climb into the Land Rover. David handed them granola bars and juice boxes, expecting them to eat breakfast while he drove to Martone’s house. Instead, they burst into song—the incredible, moving, rich harmony of Tonga hymns and spiritual songs.

Adolescent boys who would rather sing than eat? It’s hard for Americans, even one like me who loves to sing, to understand the importance of song in the Tonga culture. Like eating and breathing, singing is woven into the fabric of their lives. Longtime missionary Ken Elder claims that more Tongas have been converted through song than through preaching!

Martone, Minnie, and their 18-month old son Bill, were added to the group as the journey to Maamba began. David had a vague idea of where they were going: southeast on paved roads, and one tank of diesel would be enough. This last fact was extremely important since there has been no diesel for sale in Zambia since July 24 and none will be available until after August 12.

After a three-hour trip, the group arrived at the church building in Maamba. Martone had helped start this congregation, and the members had built the brick walls and thatched roof. For today’s service, women had decorated the window ledges and makeshift podium with bouquets of bright bougainvilleas.

The singing for the worship service was led by one of the Namwianga boys. Another one of the boys led the communion meditation. David preached, with Martone translating the sermon into Chitonga. The Namwianga boys’ group sang, as well as the youth group from the Maamba congregation and a women’s sextet.

There were eleven responses after the sermon, with ten requesting prayers and one lady coming to be baptized. The baptism meant a three-mile trip to the mighty Zambezi, one of the four main rivers in Zambia. The Land Rover was the only vehicle in the village, so people filled the inside and climbed up on the top rack for the ride. At the river, the singing resounded again as a church leader administered the baptismal rites and a new creation was added to the body of Christ.

Now it was lunchtime. Martone is from the village of Maamba, and he explained that the group would be eating two lunches today: first with his aunt and then with his mother. So they enjoyed chicken and nshima with his aunt in the shade of a tree near her house, then drove across the village to dine on chicken, nshima, and fish with Martone’s mother. She served the meal outside on a small, low table as the guests sat on short stools. Chickens busily scratched the ground between the diners, pecking at the bits of nshima that dropped to the ground. Eventually one grew bolder and jumped up on the table to steal a bite from the plates. David grabbed the chicken by the neck and flung it off to the ground, delighting the other Zambians.

Martone’s mother decided to go back to Namwianga for a visit, so she was added as a passenger for the return trip. The singing continued on the ride home as the boys led songs in Tonga and in English, old hymns, gospel favorites, and even contemporary songs that our American youth love. At a roadside market, Minnie asked to stop so she could buy some vegetables from the vendors. The minute the vehicle stopped, ladies with baskets of cabbages, tomatoes, carrots, and onions perched on their heads surrounded the Land Rover, loudly touting their produce. David distracted them by asking them to pose for a photo while Minnie made her selections.

Meanwhile, back at Namwianga, I had been expecting them to return around 4:00. When 6:30 rolled around, I began to wonder what might have happened. Car trouble? Illness? Lost in the bush? I knew they had a cell phone, but I also knew there were pockets where cell phones would be out of range. Finally at 7:00 David called. They were still an hour away, he said, and could I feed about nine extra people when they got to Namwianga?

I put together a meal of leftovers from the refrigerator and freezer. I can’t cook nshima yet, so I made a pot of ramen noodles instead. They devoured the food, and then David asked the guys to sing one last song for me. They chose a favorite Tonga hymn, singing it the traditional way at first and ending with Acapella Vocal Band-style flourishes. I had chill bumps just listening, and couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to take them to LTC choral competition in Dallas some day!

This outreach was only one of many that went out from Namwianga last Sunday. Singing groups, teachers, and preachers fan out to strengthen village churches and spread the good news of Jesus in southern Zambia every week.