Curious children gathered as we set up and unloaded the necessary equipment used to drill the bore holes. With large eyes, and big courage, they crept closer as time passed. Before we knew it they were sitting all around us and the equipment. Sweat pouring from every pore on our bodies, some of us sought relief inside the covered church. With only openings for the doors and windows, an occasional breeze flowed through. The small church served us well for a couple days as the well next to the church was drilled.
Beginning on the first day, with the children creeping closer and closer, relationships were being made. It's difficult not to open and expose your heart to the depths of your soul to these beautiful children. All across parts of Africa the need is so great it's hard to know where to begin. There are children in need in the States, however this is where I was at this moment in life. Facing the children in front of me I wish I had a magic wand. I would wave it over them for a satisfied tummy, for adequate clothing, and for a hundred hugs a day. We all know magic wands do not exist, so all I had to offer was only a few snacks, an encouraging smile, a little conversation in English, a few hugs, prayers of blessing, and fresh clean water from a soon coming water well.
I think it was on the second day of drilling when the pastor of the church asked if a second well could be drilled at an orphanage nearby. It wasn't in our plans to dig a second well in this community. The plans for this trip was to dig five wells in the northern region of Ghana, but each would be at different locations. While we had the equipment at this village, it would make sense to go ahead and drill the second well. It was learned the pastor of the church was also the overseer of the orphanage. He was the one looking after the children. We found out there were about 50-60 children who slept at the orphanage, and about 200 children attending a school next to the orphanage.
There was a definite need to drill a well at this location for the children. There was a hand dug well next to the school twenty-three feet deep. The quality of water at the hand dug well was compromised, as it is with most hand dug wells in the country. Drawing a sample of water up in a bucket it was muddy. The other source of water was an above ground black pvc holding tank. It was well water drawn from another well outside the city of Yamah and it was piped there but was very unreliable. It was clean water when they had it, but never knew when they would be without. It became evident a second well could definitely benefit this village. Once the drilling of the first well was complete, the team would move the equipment to the orphanage a quarter mile from the first location and drill the second well. The pastor was pleased.
With the first well completed, and the crew still pouring the base, the rig was moved to the second location. It was decided to dig the well beside a mango tree, which has proved to be a reliable source for finding water. In this case the mango tree was right. At about twenty-five feet the first sign of water rose to the surface. The dirt which had been dry and dusty became moist. It was a good feeling to know this would probably be a very good well for the children. The mango tree also provided much needed relief from the heat for the workers doing the drilling. What a blessing for this mango tree to be growing at this location.
At the second location there was no church which we could use to get under and be protected from the sun. However, there were enormous trees next to the school we could sit under. I didn't pay attention to the type of tree, but the shade it provided reminded me of large oak trees we have around home. Sitting under the tree was actually cooler than sitting in the church, because the breeze could be felt as it blew.
It was at the second drilling location in this village, when I had my first encounter with the girls. God has a way of bringing people together for His purpose. I believe these girls were brought to me by His hands. I'd spoken to all the children as a group trying to establish some sort of communication. English is not their native tongue. I'd spoken to some of the children at the first location in the village, but had a difficult time carrying on a conversation. I figured communication at this second location would also be difficult. In Africa many villages have their own language, or dialect of a common local language. It's even difficult sometimes for villages ten miles apart to understand each other. It seems most schools are taught English, but there doesn't seem to be any standardization. So the reading abilities of one village is vastly different than the reading abilities of another village. Each school learns as much as the overseer and teachers implement. So, it's a guess sometimes as to how much English the students might understand, or might speak.
Speaking to the children I introduced myself by telling them my name. I pointed to myself, and said my name. With an inquisitive look on their face, I asked if they knew English. Two or three children spoke up and said 'yes'. My eyes rapidly scanned the audience trying to pick out which one's had spoken up so bravely. As I narrowed in on them, I asked again 'Do you speak English?'. Shying behind a fellow classmate they spoke bravely once more, 'yes'. I gave them my name to introduce myself again, and asked their name. Still very bashful and shy, but brave, they spoke up and gave me their name. I asked a few more questions trying to communicate, but quickly ran out of things to talk about. Not only did we have a communication barrier, but we also had a cultural barrier. The things I knew, which I could ask questions about, they didn't know anything about. The conversation dried up quickly. It seemed all we could really do was sit and look at each other. Our attention went back to the drilling occurring under the mango tree.
It didn't seem long before three girls showed up beside me. With school books in their hands, I asked to look at one of their books. Tattered, and well worn, I held the workbook given and flipped thru the pages commenting a little on the writing on the pages. Whoever had written in the book had handwriting as good as mine. The girl who had given me the book was standing next to me. Taking the book, she started reading. They started reading close to the beginning of the book. She, and a friend of hers, read page to page as they progressed through the book. A big part of the reading was by sight words they'd memorized, but they were reading. In the book was the Lord's Prayer, and they read it aloud. It was marvelous!
The two girls read mostly in unison as the pages were turned. I could feel the pride growing in them. They were communicating with me in the way they knew how. It was a little rough, no it was not a little rough, it was GREAT!! I was proud of them for being bold. I was proud of them for paying attention in school. I was proud of them for sitting, and being a friend to me. What wonderful young women to find in this little village in the remote areas of northern Ghana.
We spent several minutes with them reading, until they read all there was to read in their workbook. We had formed a bond. Girls need girls. I needed these girls, and there they were. They were an encouragement for me on this day, at this place, at this moment in my life. We said our good byes, and most of the team left to go start preparing dinner. It had been a good day.
On the second day the water which had seeped in overnight was blown out, and the men finished drilling the well. It was late in the day after school let out before the girls showed up again. The crew was busy building the form which the concrete base was to be poured. The work on the second well was coming to a end. The only thing left to do was to come back for the remaining equipment, and attend the dedication ceremony. We spoke briefly before the girls needed to go home. We said our good-byes and they left.
We arrived back in the village on Sunday morning for church services held at the church beside the first well site. We were also there to take part in a dedication service for each of the wells. Church was lively and filled with God's presence. It was going to be another very hot day with temperatures well over 100. Sweat began to pour as services were underway. It was after services had began that I saw my friends. One had come in and sat towards the middle of the church, and two others stood at the opening of the door. We acknowledged and waved at each other. At the end of services I told them how happy I was to see them again. Communication was still a struggle. Eye language and body language let each of us know we were both happy to be in church, and to see each other once more. We gathered around the first well, performed the formalities, prayed over it, and pumped fresh water from it for all the officials to drink. Pictures were taken to document the dedication. With pointing and attempted communication, I tried to tell my friends we were headed to the second well. I could only hope they would understand, and make the short walk to the well site for the dedication.
The extreme heat made everyone move quickly to try and get the process started. There was no standing around. It was all action. Folks quickly gathered around the well, and once again formalities were spoken, a prayer was said, and water pumped for all the officials to drink. More pictures were taken to document the occasion. I realized my friends had indeed made the short walk. We greeted each other once again with eye language, and smiles, and limited verbal communication. Things were moving quickly because of the heat, and before I knew it we were loading into the trucks preparing to leave.
It would probably be a very long time before I saw my friends again, if ever. This was the first time a team had made it to this village to drill a well. The fact two wells were dug made it highly unlikely we'd return anytime soon. During the meeting with the chief, he requested two more wells. However, with two new wells in the village it was unlikely we would come anytime soon to dig more. There were other villages, such as this one had been, with zero wells. The mission of Water for Christ is to dig wells where mission churches are planted helping local pastors spread the gospel. A few other places have been dug to also help in the spread of the gospel. The first well dug in this village provided the well for the new mission church. The second well dug at this location was for humanitarian reasons, and it also helped the pastor of the church as he minsters to this village. Returning to this location was unlikely.
As we started to pull away, children started climbing on the utility trailer we were pulling carrying tools and equipment. Adults, and older children both, instructed the younger children to get off the trailer for their safety. They were slow to get off, but finally did. We were then able to pull away from the drilling site. We turned the corner onto the dirt road leading away from the orphanage and school. The children were running beside and behind us. It was my friends who were leading the way. They were right at my door running along side the truck waving bye to me. As we drove, we just kept waving a smiling, and they kept running. SO, what do you do when your new friends are running along side the truck you are in? That's right..... You get out and run!! To God be the Glory, for girls from a village called Yamah in Northern Ghana can run with a girl from Arkansas in the Southern United States. It's been a while since I've done much running, but I guess it can be compared to riding a bicycle. Once you know how, it comes back to you when you need it. With our skirt tails flying and our flip flops flopping, we ran!!
I can't tell you how far we ran. It wasn't a long distance. I can't tell you what those girls must've been thinking. The thoughts were certainly in their native language. I can't tell you how many prickly dried grass stems scraped against my legs. It was a lot. I can't tell you how much joy I had running with my friends. It was hard to contain. I can't tell you when I will see my friends again. I hope it's in this lifetime. If however our paths do not ever cross again in this life, I hope and pray they will have faith, and believe, when they hear the gospel. I hope and pray I will run again with them someday in heaven.
I want to run with my friends from Yamah!
Blowing out the well before beginning drilling on the second day. Notice the children having school ing the background under the tree.
Blowing out the well before beginning drilling on the second day.
Drilling on the second day. Striking a pose for the camera.
Drilling on the second day.
The 3 Ghanaians instrumental in getting wells dug. Ben (white shirt), Justice (green shirt), and Kwaku (orange shirt).
Waving at a drone the camera man used to take pictures.
Handing out mangos after the dedication of the well.
Fulfilling formalities with a visit to the chief of the village.
Fulfilling formalities with a visit to the chief of the village. Some of the team were drilling, and could not make it.
