An africanecdote and a west sad story

An East Africanecdote...

... and a west sad story...

An East Africanecdote...

I love surprises... I am sitting at the back of a ‘taxi moto’ taking me to the bus depot to catch my bus back to Butare and home. All good! I enjoy the ride, the fresh air, I like to watch people in their cars or on other ‘taxi motos’, I take in some Kigali scenery. The driver is quite nice. Despite opur helmets we manage to sustain some conversation. But suddenly, the engine stalls... I know that feeling! We have run out of petrol. No panic, despite the fact that it is peak hour and a lot of cars are behind us... WE stop, get of the bike, and the driver brings the bike on the pavement. So far, so good. I would have done exactly the same. What he does next would have never crossed my mind: he picks up the motor bike, turns it upside down, leaving just one wheel making contact with the ground, and he shakes the thirsty vehicle vigorously. I watched amazed. He is bringing the few drops of the precious liquid back where it is needed. He turns the motorbike back on its two wheels, hands me back my helmet, brings the mean machine back on the road. The engine starts again and off we go... I get into my bus, still amused and impressed. I do hope he is on his way to a petrol station, though... there is only so much a good shake can do to the oil crisis. Cost of my taxi-moto fare: 600 Rwf (1$20), cost of one litter of petrol: 935 Rwf (1$ 80)

A west sad story...

In 1994, during the genocide, Soeur Josephine was living in Cyangugu. Like everywhere else in Rwanda, things were tough, death was everywhere. She told me a few times that she often thought  that her turn was coming. It did not. Instead, one night, someone came to her with a small parcel found in the street. It contained a few months’ old baby who was assumed to be dead. She looked more closely... Yes, there were signs of physical composition, but Yeah, there was still some life force there. She took the baby in. She saved her life. She called her Emma. Meanwhile, the threat of death was becoming more and more real, so Josephine, the baby and a couple of other nuns decided to walk across the Congolese border and settle in the forest there for a while. Emma recovered, turned into a lively and cheerful baby and when she turned three was adopted by a Belgian family. She is now 15 and lives in that part of the world. Today, I have come to visit Soeur Josephine to continue showing her how to use her laptop and access the internet. Today, access is easy: good! One of the emails waiting to be read in her ‘inbox’ is from the Belgian adoptive mother. She is breaking a silence of many years to give some news of Emma and to send a couple of photos of a beautiful typical teenager girl... Josephine is over the moon. She keeps saying ‘Emma, O Emma!’ and is practically caressing the computer screen. A very moving moment. The adoptive mother was also asking Soeur Josephine to pray for Emma, saying that she was a bit wild and was so hard to handle at times that she had to be put into a boarding school. Soeur Josephine was so excited to see ‘her’ Emma that she hardly heard that piece of disconcerting news. She just said I will pray even more for Emma...