Thanks so much for praying for the West Africa SIS trip. My colleague, Esther, and I are back from the end of the world with deep gratitude for God’s attending grace.

We depended on prayer to move obstacles out of the way more than once, still do, as we try to hear God’s lessons for us, and take bold action on behalf of the least of these. Though I have ministered extensively in Africa, India, China, Indonesia … my heart is a little raw from being up close with the destitute of Mali. This place is 100 times more desperate a situation than Senegal (where we visited first and have great work going on to report.) But in Mali 95% of the livestock of nomad families has perished due to drought, so the families move into Timbuktu and "squat" in rude camps - no running water, no outhouses, no $ for school, no electricity, hoping to somehow rebuild their lives. Locals call these communities, “The Belt of Misery,” strangling Timbuktu.

Timbuktu is coming into a chilly time of year (in the 50s at night) and most of the little ones are naked and sand coated, all had runny noses. The sister ministry we work with grew out of a local Malian church and is called Merciful Grace of God for Timbuktu (TNT, in French). The ministry has become famous for reaching out to those living in the camps. But before he and the church began reaching out, they were under intense persecution from the majority Muslim community. The outreach to single mothers and children in The Belt of Misery has transformed the reputation of the church. Now leaders in the community seek Nouh’s advice, and welcome the churches interventions. The church, though impoverished, has tremendous impact on Timbuktu through a constellation of ministries from radio, to village outreach, wells, schools for children, to vocational and health training…

Here we met just over 100 "women" (average age 16) who are single mothers dubbed "Temporary Wives". Men married these girls and then divorced them with a word, never intending to keep them in the first place. They are all single moms, some as young as 13. An astounded 70% of mothers in Mali are single, 88% are illiterate and poor. I was reminded of our efforts to raise awareness and help with the Walk 4 Moms for Mother’s Day. Could our initiatives for single mothers transform the reputation of the church in Roswell/greater Atlanta? Could we be marked as the people who care and take action? For me, this work presses home the urgency of concerted effort on behalf of the least of these in Christ’s name. At the Women’s Vocational Center women receive discipling, literacy, sewing, knitting, crocheting training, a meal each day, food to take home for one school year. Upon graduation they are to receive a sewing machine. Sadly, the last batch of graduates is still waiting for their machines. That is a priority because the machines will empower the women to sustain their families.

Isetta was in a temporary marriage when she was still a girl. At 13 she gave birth before her body had finished growing, leaving her with ongoing health problems and infertility. Her husband used this as grounds for a divorce. I asked Isetta if she’s learning about God’s love from the Women’s Center. Her honesty astounded me, “I have stopped praying to God. Stopped hoping. Maybe in time, thru the center I can come to Him and know some peace.”

While there the Lord gave us His plan for intervening for all of the girls of Mali with His love. Once a year we plan to sponsor an Awards Event to celebrate the initiatives of women (TNT grads) which will be promoted nationwide. In the promotion thru secular media: newspaper, TV and radio, we will be featuring the temporary wife problems and the great solutions of TNT. Pastor Nouh says that he can get the governor and mayor involved, as they are burdened by the devastation young girls are enduring. They are looking for ways to show girls and their parents that there are other options. SIS hopes to provide an award to ten former Women's Center graduates who have started the most successful businesses. This will honor those who implement what they’ve learned, provide strong role models for upcoming graduates and be a time for SIS to evaluate our effectiveness by interviewing graduates of the program.

But I have to back up to draw out the lessons. Upon our departure from Senegal, we learned that our ticket to Timbuktu was not valid. No plane for another 4 days! We had come too far to turn back, so Esther and I opted for a 15 hour bus ride from Bamako to a village “nearby” Timbuktu. A fierce looking Taureg man walk right up to us in the waiting line (Tauregs were the nomadic camel lords of West Africa before the drought. Brilliant royal blue turbans cover their heads and faces, except for piercing eyes, ringed by leathery skin.) He uncovered his face, introduced himself as on his way home to Gao from Bamako, and began peppering Esther with questions in French, the national language. He decided that he and his 13 Taureg friends would protect us during the long night ahead.

The bus stopped no less than 12 times through the night to show our papers, pay police, and offer breaks to walk about and eat roadside delicacies – hunks of mysterious meat with insects attached. Our Taureg guardians woke us when it was time to get off the bus, herded us when it was time to get back on. It was fascinating to watch these men relax and tell jokes at each other’s expense. They laughed and chuckled easily…even though the ride was miserably uncomfortable, easily 100 degrees most of the time. At one point the man from Gao faced me head on, his eyes sparkled with some inside joke and a burning question, “Michele, why did you come here!!! I have been to Europe, and I know what you are about to experience in Timbuktu. You come from a different planet! You have left paradise to come to misery. What are you doing here?” All I could muster in the moment was that the people of Mali are worth any effort in our work to help them. I was thinking of Jesus, who really left Paradise for this planet.

We alighted the bus at around 4:00 a.m. with a three and a half hour “off road” experience ahead of us. The road to Timbuktu is mostly nonexistent. And the driver of the vehicle constructed of rattley junk parts chose to make up in speed what we lacked in asphalt. We were air born at least half of the time. No kidding! The driver needed the windows down, so Esther and I became veiled women, to keep from gulping sand and dust. When we flew over a rise and landed smack into a puff of sand, the car sputtered and stopped. We were sunk. Our driver began digging, and our colleague, Pastor Nouh wouldn’t let us help, so I decided to enjoy the magnificent sunrise (“What a lovely place to perish”, I thought,) and I was off to try to find the ladies room somewhere in the Sahara desert. I came back with stabbing burrs all over my long skirt. When I pulled them out, the barbs stuck in my fingers.

If you come with me to Timbuktu, you will want to prepare yourself for just such eventualities. And did I mention that everything, every morsel and every body (including yours) will be infused with sand? How do you feel about cold showers?
Are the people of Timbuktu worth the effort? Oh, I can’t tell you how dear they are to the Savior and to those who have His heart for them.

Lesson One. In the poorest country in West Africa, things don’t work well.
Lesson Two. It is an exhausting journey.
Lesson Three: It can be dangerous.
Lesson Four. Disguised angels surround.
Lesson Five. Isetta’s eyes still look for hope and peace.
Lesson Six: The Belt of Misery will never leave your heart.
Lesson Seven: We can’t solve all of the problems in the Belt of Misery,
but we can do something.

~Michele Rickett~