Streets of Ethiopia
I sometimes wonder if all international flights arrive in Addis Ababa during the night time hours. Could it possibly be because those who enter the country for the first time need some rest before they are faced with the most shocking first impressions of the city?
The one thing that hits us in the face when we get out onto the streets during the day-light hours are the many beggars who are waiting at every busy intersection and near every entrance that may not have security guards who push them away at places where white people frequent most---as the gates of the Ministry of Immigration where I have had to weave my way through the crowd of out-stretched palms and pleading voices of, “Money, money,” “Give me, give me.”
They are very dirty, dressed in rags, some carry babies, many lean on crutches, and occasionally one will be on a board with wheels while others use their strongly developed arms and hands to pull their legless bodies across the asphalt between the cars stopped at the traffic lights of the busiest intersections.
I slow my car down at one of these intersections, dreading what will happen during the long wait. Oh God, I can’t possibly give birr to all who come to me; so, I find myself judging. If they look like they could work I try to busy myself with the city map or something else to try to make them think that I do not see or hear them tapping on my window. Then, when my peripheral vision tells me something that is extremely different I look and may see that the tapping is being done with the fingerless hand of one who has had leprosy, or the one who holds the upper arm with one hand while the hand of the forearm swings loosely from the elbow, or the elderly who are blind being led by beautiful children who are also in rags. Even when I can’t see them, I know they are there, somewhere beneath my window, then I see the fingers of an up-stretched arm of another beggar who is making his way between the cars and wonder how he avoids being run over. It is all too common and once a beggar spots a fir-ren-ze (a white person) he runs to my car and his excitement alerts other beggars. When there are five standing at the window I know I can’t give to the one I feel is most needy without giving something to all. Sometimes I run completely out of coins and $1 birrs and nod my head and say, “Exzabia Estalin” which means “May God take care of your needs.” Some of my friends who live here have rationalized using only this method to respond to the needy on the streets while they are working in other areas to help this country.
Many of the very poor, lame, and hungry do not come into the streets but rather sit in the same place day after day. They sit on any piece of material they can find to separate their body from the dirt that turns to mud when it rains. Some prop their prosthesis against the wall or nurse their babies. Then, there are others who may be sleeping in the medium of the boulevards; or, are they dead? I wonder and I never get used to it. I keep trying to think of a way this huge problem can be solved. I pray for them, a lot!
How wrong I have been to even try to judge who is most needy. This was confirmed yesterday when the English speaking pastor spoke to my heart, from God, when he told the true story a woman (Lucinda) who was shunned by her family and friends after her husband died of HIV AIDS. In their ignorance they thought Lucinda would give them AIDS. She was run out of her home carrying twins with a 5 year old at her side. So, Lucinda went to the streets begging so she could at least feed her children. Lucinda could have been one I ignored because she may have looked like she could have been working instead of begging. I often feel disgusted when I think that an adult is using a child to gain more sympathy.
Lucinda was brought to the Help Center of the church where she was given food, clothing, and then a one room house was built for her in the neighborhood next to the church. She was witnessed to and became a follower of Christ. Then one day the pastor went with the director of the Help Program to visit Lucinda. As they neared the house, they were told by neighbors, who had been helping her, that Lucinda had become paralyzed on one side and could not move from her bed. Thinking this had something to do with AIDS bringing an end to the life in Lucinda’s body, the pastor asked if he could pray for her. When he put out his hand to touch her head and began the prayer with, “In the name of Jesus Christ…,” her body went into convulsions that were wild and the two men tried to hold her down while a terrible raspy and angry voice came out of her. The pastor knew immediately, that this was a demon and commanded it to leave her. After a while it did leave her and she relaxed into a deep sleep from the exhausting experience.
A few days later, Lucinda walked to the church to thank the pastor and the other who had gone with him and prayed over her. She told them, “When I gave my heart to Jesus I didn’t give Him all of my heart, only part of it. Satan had kept the other part. Now all of my heart belongs to Jesus.” She continues to thank them.
Then, as the pastor continued to preaching he told us that, more recently, a child was abandoned at the church and when no one knew whom he may have belonged to he asked us to guess who had taken the child into her home. Yes, it was Lucinda. She is not only loving and obeying God today but she is serving Him with all her heart as she takes care of her own children as well as a lost lamb.
I will never get used to the beggars pulling at my heart strings but I will always look at them differently and hopefully never judge another one of them as long as I am here.
Dr Bill Black is the Pastor of the International Evangelical Church in Addis Ababa.
People from all nations, who work in Ethiopia, join sisters and brothers in Christ to worship here every Sunday. There is a Seminary on the campus and many outreach programs. It is a joy to occasionally worship God in an English speaking service.
Presently, there is no translation available at the Yetebon church. The one who could translate has a soft voice and insists on sitting on the front row which is near a very loud speaker. I am making arrangements for intense Amharic studies, at an institute that trains missionaries, for the month of February.
Another note: I have not been in the U.S. for the past two Christmas seasons. I promised my mother I would be with her this Christmas so I will by back in Ft. Myers by Dec. 21st.
God bless each of you, give you a Happy Thanksgiving and a peaceful and joyful Holiday Season.
In His Service, and loving it!
Dee Donalson
The one thing that hits us in the face when we get out onto the streets during the day-light hours are the many beggars who are waiting at every busy intersection and near every entrance that may not have security guards who push them away at places where white people frequent most---as the gates of the Ministry of Immigration where I have had to weave my way through the crowd of out-stretched palms and pleading voices of, “Money, money,” “Give me, give me.”
They are very dirty, dressed in rags, some carry babies, many lean on crutches, and occasionally one will be on a board with wheels while others use their strongly developed arms and hands to pull their legless bodies across the asphalt between the cars stopped at the traffic lights of the busiest intersections.
I slow my car down at one of these intersections, dreading what will happen during the long wait. Oh God, I can’t possibly give birr to all who come to me; so, I find myself judging. If they look like they could work I try to busy myself with the city map or something else to try to make them think that I do not see or hear them tapping on my window. Then, when my peripheral vision tells me something that is extremely different I look and may see that the tapping is being done with the fingerless hand of one who has had leprosy, or the one who holds the upper arm with one hand while the hand of the forearm swings loosely from the elbow, or the elderly who are blind being led by beautiful children who are also in rags. Even when I can’t see them, I know they are there, somewhere beneath my window, then I see the fingers of an up-stretched arm of another beggar who is making his way between the cars and wonder how he avoids being run over. It is all too common and once a beggar spots a fir-ren-ze (a white person) he runs to my car and his excitement alerts other beggars. When there are five standing at the window I know I can’t give to the one I feel is most needy without giving something to all. Sometimes I run completely out of coins and $1 birrs and nod my head and say, “Exzabia Estalin” which means “May God take care of your needs.” Some of my friends who live here have rationalized using only this method to respond to the needy on the streets while they are working in other areas to help this country.
Many of the very poor, lame, and hungry do not come into the streets but rather sit in the same place day after day. They sit on any piece of material they can find to separate their body from the dirt that turns to mud when it rains. Some prop their prosthesis against the wall or nurse their babies. Then, there are others who may be sleeping in the medium of the boulevards; or, are they dead? I wonder and I never get used to it. I keep trying to think of a way this huge problem can be solved. I pray for them, a lot!
How wrong I have been to even try to judge who is most needy. This was confirmed yesterday when the English speaking pastor spoke to my heart, from God, when he told the true story a woman (Lucinda) who was shunned by her family and friends after her husband died of HIV AIDS. In their ignorance they thought Lucinda would give them AIDS. She was run out of her home carrying twins with a 5 year old at her side. So, Lucinda went to the streets begging so she could at least feed her children. Lucinda could have been one I ignored because she may have looked like she could have been working instead of begging. I often feel disgusted when I think that an adult is using a child to gain more sympathy.
Lucinda was brought to the Help Center of the church where she was given food, clothing, and then a one room house was built for her in the neighborhood next to the church. She was witnessed to and became a follower of Christ. Then one day the pastor went with the director of the Help Program to visit Lucinda. As they neared the house, they were told by neighbors, who had been helping her, that Lucinda had become paralyzed on one side and could not move from her bed. Thinking this had something to do with AIDS bringing an end to the life in Lucinda’s body, the pastor asked if he could pray for her. When he put out his hand to touch her head and began the prayer with, “In the name of Jesus Christ…,” her body went into convulsions that were wild and the two men tried to hold her down while a terrible raspy and angry voice came out of her. The pastor knew immediately, that this was a demon and commanded it to leave her. After a while it did leave her and she relaxed into a deep sleep from the exhausting experience.
A few days later, Lucinda walked to the church to thank the pastor and the other who had gone with him and prayed over her. She told them, “When I gave my heart to Jesus I didn’t give Him all of my heart, only part of it. Satan had kept the other part. Now all of my heart belongs to Jesus.” She continues to thank them.
Then, as the pastor continued to preaching he told us that, more recently, a child was abandoned at the church and when no one knew whom he may have belonged to he asked us to guess who had taken the child into her home. Yes, it was Lucinda. She is not only loving and obeying God today but she is serving Him with all her heart as she takes care of her own children as well as a lost lamb.
I will never get used to the beggars pulling at my heart strings but I will always look at them differently and hopefully never judge another one of them as long as I am here.
Dr Bill Black is the Pastor of the International Evangelical Church in Addis Ababa.
People from all nations, who work in Ethiopia, join sisters and brothers in Christ to worship here every Sunday. There is a Seminary on the campus and many outreach programs. It is a joy to occasionally worship God in an English speaking service.
Presently, there is no translation available at the Yetebon church. The one who could translate has a soft voice and insists on sitting on the front row which is near a very loud speaker. I am making arrangements for intense Amharic studies, at an institute that trains missionaries, for the month of February.
Another note: I have not been in the U.S. for the past two Christmas seasons. I promised my mother I would be with her this Christmas so I will by back in Ft. Myers by Dec. 21st.
God bless each of you, give you a Happy Thanksgiving and a peaceful and joyful Holiday Season.
In His Service, and loving it!
Dee Donalson
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