Shatito looks 12, but he is probably now close to 16 years old. Shatito’s dad died a few years ago of Aids and his family is one of the poorest of the poor. He had the reputation as one of the “malandros” – bad boys – of the community after his father’s death. He seemed to be running wild with his buddies, causing havoc wherever they go. His teacher did not like him (for obvious reasons), but I was shocked one day to find Shatito in tears, his legs covered with ugly welts where the teacher lashed out his anger towards the boy. (We informed the local school committee and soon after the teacher left).
Who knows, maybe it was this intervention, or maybe the Lord has just planted a thirst in Shatito’s heart or… maybe he was just plain bored! But when the 1st cycle Bible Teaching started, Shatito always found some way to catch a ride in the truck going that way! (The teaching was way over at our partners’ side of this area). In the end, he was one of the only younger ones sticking it out through most the lessons; quite amazing in itself.
We started to see changes, he stopped for example to go with the “bad” crowd. Still we rarely saw Shatito and wondered if he was still on the right path.
Then a few days ago, I passed the local school…
Now this is a sad situation. This is a photo of the local school, taken earlier this week.
The local Mwinika kids are used to schoolrooms without tables or chairs – they are used to sit on poles supported by two forked ones, and trying to write on their laps. They are used to leaking roofs, 40 kids per class and brown, uninteresting mud walls. They are used to teachers being absent often and usually unprepared and overworked. They are used to all of this, but things have gotten worse for these kids lately.
Not only do they not have any of the facilities you and I think of as normal at school, but the front wall had caved in … several years ago already! Slowly, other walls have followed until there are hardly any standing anymore. This however is not the saddest part yet, the worst is that there are NO teacher this year. Not even one.
As I passed the school, I saw something interesting. There were a few kids in the schoolroom, some old handbooks and one or two blunt and well used pencils. There sat Shatito, bent intently over a book teaching the younger ones! Way is he doing this? How strange to see this in the Mwinika culture where NO-one will do ANYthing … for nothing! But here was this boy, teaching these kids to the best of his knowledge. He will not receive anything for his efforts. How amazing to see this transformation!
God is changing Mwinika lives.