The Purpose Driven Retirement of Eddie Ozols Supporting the Tanzanian Anglican Church

Sunday, May 22, 2022

Jonah of Tanzania and My Busiest Week

I mentioned in my last blog a visit to a village on Saturday where the Bishop was speaking on Saturday afternoon and going back Sunday for confirmation for those ready and able to demonstrate they understood its significance. While there I met Pastor Francis whose story I tell because it describes so much that challenges Tanzania economically and the church in particular.

On arrival we were met by a group of church leaders and taken to Francis’ home to be welcomed officially. He is sixty three years old and has been pastor in this village for seven years. He has one wife (polygamy still exists so this is to clarify) and ten children. His monthly stipend is usually about 10,000 TZS or AU$6-7 but may sometimes be double that. So he farms to feed his family.

Apart from the village I am in, he also has four other congregations that he is responsible to pastor, supported by catechists (non-ordained pastors who may have some theological education). So he visits each congregation monthly to do the priestly thing about communion that non ordained pastors cannot do.

As I was asking him about his family and time in ministry he told me he went to Bible College in the early 1990s but was not a Christian at the time. We ran out of time at this stage so I had to continue a few hours later after all the activities we were there for had concluded.

He went to Bible College as a young man, enthralled with the vestments and ceremony of the Anglican Church at the time. He actually completed three years of college and was sent to villages to start new churches, something many do which is a tough gig. He eventually moved on to another community after establishing a new church and found life a bit tougher there. Many would say to him “you will die poor. Why don’t you get a job and look after yourself.” Not really having had a “call” he eventually left life as a minister and went fishing in Lake Victoria where many at the time were making excellent income from huge catches as large numbers of fish populated the lake and excess catches fed an export market. The boat was incidentally owned by his father.

From my stays in a hotel at Mwanza overlooking Lake Victoria, the distant lights at night tell the story of the fishing industry. Small lightweight, canoe style boats for 2-3 dot the darkness of the night as these men, the equivalent of sustenance farmers eke out a livelihood on Africa’s largest lake.

After some years, one night out fishing wth two older men a storm commenced. He suggested lowering the sail and they argued. One of the men mockingly suggesting if he was scared to walk across the lake to land. The boat capsized. All three hung onto ropes attached to the boat.

The sun rose and as they awaited their fate, poisonous snakes popped their heads over the boat looking at them. He prayed for safety for he and his colleagues from the snakes and did not see them again. The day became night. He prayed for his colleagues that they would survive. He had concluded he was responsible for this situation because he had left the ministry and he did not wish his colleagues harm.

As he kept praying aloud, they told him to stop praying as he might disturb the sea ghosts. “Sea ghosts” I asked. He explained these men were pagans who believed in evil spirits which lived under the water. He kept praying. Day turned to night and night to day.

On night three they saw distant lights and began shouting. Eventually the boat came closer and three bedraggled, naked men emerged for rescue. He saw his father and told him he was never going fishing again and saw the bishop of the area and returned to pastoral duties. After some years he again went to Bible College at Rorya for three years and became ordained as a priest/pastor.

When asked why he was foing to the Anglican Church, which people from his tribe equated as the church of the Luo, he recounted to friends that when his father was sick in hosptal it was the church that helped his father with fees. When he died the Anglican Chrch paid for his funeral as he was penniless.

While he has never equated his experience to that of Jonah who spent three days in the belly of a whale while running from God, the parallels between the expriences of Francis and Jonah are recognisable.

Francis lives very simply. He has a house made of mud bricks and a rough uneven floor. There is electricity for lighting and limited power. I ran into his daughter with Bishop later in the week and she send money home. She works in Musoma with the local soccer team.

While the village is generally poor, there are signs of increasing prosperity in some of the houses. We had lunch in a room of a house under construction for ten years. The owner is a teacher and buys materials and labour when he has savings. Dinner was at another older church member’s home in a small compound that suggested some improved economic circumstances. Bishop mentioned it was good to see wealthier members of the church providing hospitality as this was an indication they had hosted the meal.

In speaking to Pastor Francis, he appeared content. He was preparing for retirement in a few years but expressed satisfaction with his life since the near drowning. He is thankful that God spared his life, although there were no bargains made at that time. He was just praying and asking if he died that his body was found so he could have a burial.

The rest of my week was busy and this was the busiest so far. Lots of admin work, video meeting with Anglican Aid and staff from here to discuss a building program and in between training people on Google drive and discusssing a newsletter with a young guy who is going to produce it.

All in all an amzing week

Thursday, April 28, 2022

Starting Out Week 2

An update on week 2 in Tanzania

Easter Monday being a public holiday saw the bishop and I returning from his village where we had spent the previus evening. A separate blog is coming.

Tuesday at the office was spent still getting my head around everything. My meeting with Arthur on Thursday had left me thinking about a young woman who he had lined up for studying at the local sewing centre here in Musoma run by Mother’s Union. Anglican Aid had previously supported the renovations at their hostel and provided equipment including machines for the classes. I had on an earlier visit proposed they relocate from the small room they were in to a vacant room elsewhere to accommodate all the girls This actually happened in front of my eyes on the day. It seems many here are happy to take advice when given for what was obvious to me. It seems a nudge helped them to see that there was a better option.

Glen and Dominique and their three kids worked and lived here for over ten years until COVID struck. They packed up and left the country as did most westerners at short notice. They were back to say goodbye to many they worked with over the time here (Glen was principal of the local Anglican Primary School), pack up their remaining goods and give their kids and themselves time to close this part of their lives. A formal farewell was held for them on Wednesday, separate from the farewell the previous week by the school staff.

The farewell was held in a covered area near the hostel and kitchen which is where many meetings are held in this climate. There were a number of speakers before the bishop spoke in glowing terms of the service the family had renderd to the church and how Glen hasd raised the standards at the primary school where he was principal. He brought professionalism and diligence and modelled leadership that teaching staff had rarely seen. Glen was quite emotional in his response. Big thing saying farewell to a part of your life you have invested in for so many years. CMS, his sending agency are to be commended for faciliatting this return visit.

Compassion International is big in Tanzania. I have been to countless churches and heard the staggering numbers of kids supported by them. In most churches Compassion is the biggest program operating. In Musoma there are about nine Compassion Programs, each operating with over 200 kids, a manager, social worker and accountant. That’s over 2,000 kids in this town/city alone. This week they were running a conference for the Lake region here in Musoma so the bishop was attending that Wednesday and Thursday. So dinner was at the conference centre down the road from where he lives. We had dinner with the two bishops from nearby dioceses and it was also an opportunity to meet staff from other churches in this region.

Dinner with Mwita and Musa was great. I know both of them from my time at Anglican Aid and both are fine men. We chatted over old times and I learned a lot about the Anglican Church in Tanzania as Mwita was Provincial Secretary prior to becoming a bishop. It was a late night, lakeside in a beautiful location. The resort is basic and needs funds spent on it but cheap. Food here is excellent.

Tilapia was the order of the day for all four of us

Grace didn’t make it t the Compassion program as a child. She is a young woman whose education was disrupted by her father’s death. Arthur had told me the previous week about how the tailoring centre here and Bunda changed lives dramatically of girls unable to continue to secondary education because they did not pass the national exams or due to family finances. He gave examples of how parents prefer their daughters to attend the church program as opposed to the government vocational centres where girls from villages fend for themselves in towns and cities. The Mothers’ Union here provides a hostel with a matron so village girls are not without support.

Grace was due to start at the sewing centre in February, one of four scholarship recipients but was responsible for providing a uniform and some other basic things like mosquito nets and food. Up to the last days her family was not even able to raise $12 to contribute so did not start. After pondering this over Easter I told Arthur I would cover her costs for the scholarship. He was taken back as he only mentioned her as an example of girls whose lives have little future if they cannot get some sort of training.

Next day Arthur walked in to my office with Grace. He and some of his staff decided to support the additional money she needed for the add ons and her mother agreed to provide food monthly (girls cook for themselves to keep costs down). Grace’s appearance tells you all you need to know about village life. At 25 years old she looks much younger than her years. She is undernourished. She left school in form 1 aged 18 years old after her father died (that sentence tells you a lot about educational opportunities in Tanzania). While education is “free” the additional costs result in many not continuing as students must supply uniforms, books and materials. On Easter Sunday I met a primary school teacher who has a 173 kids in her class – and she was smiling! Two friends of Grace from nearby villages were in the office with her having collected her from the bus station. They have had two months in town and will help her settle in.

Martha is the secretary of Mothers’ Union in Mara, having taken over after the untimely death last year of Dorothy apparently due to diabetes. She is an ordained minister who serves at the cathedral on Sundays. I was able to give her my old laptop (2017) which I replaced last year for MU use. As I spoke to her and Arthur apologising for its age, Arthur told me this was the most modern laptop in the diocese. When I saw his I realised what he meant, still running windows 7 on a 4kg laptop which looks about 10-12 years old. Martha is new to computing so will as Arthur suggested enrol for an hour a day in the basic computer class next door at the vocational training centre.

Friday was a meeting with the manager of Buhemba Rural Agricultural Centre (BRAC). BRAC is owned by the diocese and comprises 1,000 acres of land which includes a training college on it as a separate entity, providing diplomas in Community Development. It is a huge asset which is not realising its potential. Annarose retired in 2021 as District Commissioner for the area and was offered the role of manager of BRAC. In its heyday in the 1980s it boasted a dairy that provided over 1,000 litres of milk daily and cropped hundreds of acres which provided income to the church. Following the departure of the missionaries who helped establish it, it has failed to maintain the momentum of the early days.

Annarose has a big job and I have been asked to assist her with plans to get this farm functioning and helping her with a strategic plan. It has several business units – cropping beans, sunflower and maize, honey production, sunflower oil, cattle grazing and actually producing sunflower oil for markets. I have previously been to BRAC twice and the potential is hge. It has an underground water tank of 1 million litres and a large reservoir. Both need work to drought proof cropping.

In working through the issues, mortification set in when we spoke about finances and accounting practices and I was told the CPA there is still using books (as in paper) to keep accounts. In discussing this with Arthur who by this time had joined the meeting this is common across the diocese. Another task to look at. Reports are prepared in excel. Any accountants out there reading this who would be interested in a voluntary job?

The weekend came and went quickly. Lunch was planned at Rehema Cafe Saturday where the three English GOMAD volunteers were lunching and a couple, Roman and Rebecca who had been here since 2015 but are now in Rwanda serving with Wycliffe Bible Translators as they cannot get residency permits again. A separate blog at some time about their work which translates oral languages into written form using the Bible as the subject.

The bishop was teaching in the afternoon after morning baptisms at the cathedral so I went shopping to the markets after seeing what the GOMAD people had bought. I came back with Merrell runners for TZS 35,000 ($22) and almost new. The markets get clothes imported from USA, Canada and elsewhere and resell thse. It is huge. The shoes I bought were almost new.