If you are tired of the liberal bias that is often so evident on Wikipedia, and if you are a conservative or Bible-believing Christian, or at least it doesn't make you angry to read such viewpoints, I invite you to try Conservapedia. It works just like Wikipedia, except that you won't find it listed first when you do an internet search. You'll probably have to type it in and then search for the subject you want. This is simply because Wikipedia gets so many more hits.
I say this from experience. I write for both, and I am glad for any contribution I can make to Wikipedia, but it's really hard to temper an article that's been written from a viewpoint that I as a Christian find objectionable. Most often contributions are reverted almost as soon as they are made. I'm still trying to contribute what I can, but I want to let you all know that there is another alternative. Conservapedia is well worth using, and if like me, you are a writer with a purpose, it's worth writing for.
You can still find articles that are skewed on Conservapedia, but corrections and adjustments are accepted much more readily.
I invite you to try it out, and let me know what you think!
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Thursday, April 2, 2015
THE POWER OF DISCOURAGEMENT
Back in 1980, our family was preparing to go as missionaries to what was then called Zaire (now DR Congo). I was leaving many ministries in which I had been involved in the US, some of them in our local church. I had put my whole heart into those ministries. Now that we were leaving, I had been praying about what I might do to help my local church in a longer term way—something I might do now that would still help while we were in Africa. I had done some teacher training for the church, so one idea I had was to make tape recordings of my ideas for different areas of ministry. Those who came after me could learn from the recordings.
I was quite enthusiastic about the project. During Junior church one week, my helper
taught the memory verse. I felt I had a
lot of ideas that could help her, so I made my first recording on teaching the
memory verse. It was designed to be part
motivation and part instruction. I gave
her the recording. The next week I was
very gratified at how much more engaging the memory teaching was.
The subject came up with a friend who was related to the
memory helper, and I mentioned how helpful the tape had been. Right away she snapped, “Did she tell you
that?” I stared at her with my mouth
open. I was confused. My helper had obviously done a much better
job, so I had assumed that the tape had been helpful.
“She doesn’t want to have to be listening to all that just
to teach the memory verse,” my friend explained. It’s too much.
Her words stung. Had
I been presumptuous to think that I had some ideas that other teachers might
want to hear? Did God want to humble me
to that I would not go to the mission field feeling I had all the answers? Was the recording just a little too
long? Had I mistaken God’s voice entirely
in telling me to make the tapes? I still
don’t know, but I never made another recording, nor did I ever again loan out
the first one I had made. In fact I
entirely gave up the idea of doing something before I left that might help my
local church after I was in Africa. As I
look back on the incident, the only thing I am sure of is that it taught me the
power of a discouraging word. It showed
me how quickly a single discouraging comment can bring a project to nothing.
Fortunately, it was many, many years before I again was the
recipient of such discouraging words.
Thank the Lord, in the meantime, many people spoke positive, encouraging
words into my life.
The experience left one thing with me very profoundly: Whether other people’s attempts at ministry
are all they should be or not, I want to be an encourager and not a
discourager.
Who Judges Which Books Are False?
I recently discovered Google Books--a neat way to check out books I want to read but haven't decided if I'm ready to invest in buying them. A neat way to quickly connect online references for books so that others can check them out.
One slight problem. I notice that most of the books that we might label "politically incorrect" or that present a conservative viewpoint have been assigned URL's that end in f=false. Everything else in the URL has to do with the title, except for that final designation.
Hmm. I wonder who decides these books are false. I wonder what standards they use.
I wonder, but I've seen enough that I think I can already take an educated guess.
Google, you are now the new censor of the world? Oh, you're modern. You don't burn books. You just label them false. That keeps them from being used effectively in online reviews. Clever.
I can only say, that based on my experience and the books I've checked out on Google Books, I'd advise readers to look for the books labeled f=false. If they do, I think they're much more likely to find the truth!
One slight problem. I notice that most of the books that we might label "politically incorrect" or that present a conservative viewpoint have been assigned URL's that end in f=false. Everything else in the URL has to do with the title, except for that final designation.
Hmm. I wonder who decides these books are false. I wonder what standards they use.
I wonder, but I've seen enough that I think I can already take an educated guess.
Google, you are now the new censor of the world? Oh, you're modern. You don't burn books. You just label them false. That keeps them from being used effectively in online reviews. Clever.
I can only say, that based on my experience and the books I've checked out on Google Books, I'd advise readers to look for the books labeled f=false. If they do, I think they're much more likely to find the truth!
Monday, October 27, 2014
At Least It's Never Dull
Last Saturday evening was our annual ECM Fundraising Banquet here in IN. By the time next year's banquet rolls around, our dear colleague Mark Luckey will have taken over the directorship position, so our board, staff & friends surprised & honored us with gifts and kind words. It always feels good to be appreciated, of course. But sometimes I feel a little embarrassed by the attention and the implication that we have given up so much to serve God. I hear so often, "They could have had a nice life." I understand that what they mean is, we could have had a more comfortable life. We could have made more money and accumulated more things. We could have driven a nicer car. But every time I hear these things, I want to interrupt & shout, "We had a GREAT life!"
Yes, our missionary life has been challenging. At times I have felt very discouraged. More than once, I've quit (in my own mind--only to re-enlist again before I got the resignation written). But it has certainly never been dull. It's not just that it's exciting. It's more like it's been rewarding. Friday night, in my response, I said "I can't think of anything I would rather have done with 30 years of my life," and I meant it.
Today I worked on writing Bible lessons for Congo in the Kituba language we learned when we lived there. This afternoon, I completed the lesson on the call of Abraham. God called him to do a very hard thing--to leave his country, his family and his home to go to a land that God promised to show him. In one sense he gave up everything.
But I was also struck by what he gained. God did show him a land, and gave it to his descendants. God promised him a big family and great honor. God promised to bless those who bless him and to curse those who curse him. God promised to use him as a channel of blessing to others--in fact, to bless all the families of the earth through him. I believe that includes at least the fact that his descendants gave us the Bible that we treasure, and also gave us our Savior. God used a Jewish maiden to bring His eternal Son into the world. That's why the very first verse of the New Testament shows that He was a descendant of King David and a descendant of Abraham. I was looking only at the first time God promised Abram great things (Genesis 12:1-3). Yet even there, I saw that he got far more than he gave up.
That's how missionary life is. In fact, I think that's how life is for any follower of Jesus. We give it all up, it's true. But then we get more in return than we had ever dreamed possible.
I've had the joy of hearing my own children say, "Thanks, Mom, for introducing us to Jesus." I've also had, just this week, the joy of getting a Facebook message from a former Sunday school boy in Congo who as an adult told me, "Mama, I remember so well the things you taught us. I will never forget them." Yes, I have had a wonderful life indeed.
Yes, our missionary life has been challenging. At times I have felt very discouraged. More than once, I've quit (in my own mind--only to re-enlist again before I got the resignation written). But it has certainly never been dull. It's not just that it's exciting. It's more like it's been rewarding. Friday night, in my response, I said "I can't think of anything I would rather have done with 30 years of my life," and I meant it.
Today I worked on writing Bible lessons for Congo in the Kituba language we learned when we lived there. This afternoon, I completed the lesson on the call of Abraham. God called him to do a very hard thing--to leave his country, his family and his home to go to a land that God promised to show him. In one sense he gave up everything.
But I was also struck by what he gained. God did show him a land, and gave it to his descendants. God promised him a big family and great honor. God promised to bless those who bless him and to curse those who curse him. God promised to use him as a channel of blessing to others--in fact, to bless all the families of the earth through him. I believe that includes at least the fact that his descendants gave us the Bible that we treasure, and also gave us our Savior. God used a Jewish maiden to bring His eternal Son into the world. That's why the very first verse of the New Testament shows that He was a descendant of King David and a descendant of Abraham. I was looking only at the first time God promised Abram great things (Genesis 12:1-3). Yet even there, I saw that he got far more than he gave up.
That's how missionary life is. In fact, I think that's how life is for any follower of Jesus. We give it all up, it's true. But then we get more in return than we had ever dreamed possible.
I've had the joy of hearing my own children say, "Thanks, Mom, for introducing us to Jesus." I've also had, just this week, the joy of getting a Facebook message from a former Sunday school boy in Congo who as an adult told me, "Mama, I remember so well the things you taught us. I will never forget them." Yes, I have had a wonderful life indeed.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
When We Faced Ebola
1995. It's been 19 years since we faced Ebola. Last month I was in Congo again, holding a reunion of our trainers in the very place where it all happened.
We were living in Congo in a remote outpost called Mission Garizim (Hill of Blessing). Our only communication with the outside was by radio. However, something had gone wrong with the radio and we could hear others talking, but could not call out. John was taking David Bryant back to Kinshasa after visiting the mission. (David later became vice chair & then chair of the ECM Board.)
The men were traveling in the big 10 ton army truck to Kikwit. They stayed there a couple days before catching an airplane to Kinshasa. Our mechanic Mukwa went on to Kinshasa with the truck to get much-needed supplies.
While in Kikwit, John & David noticed that people, usually very friendly, were avoiding shaking hands. Instead, everyone was greeting one another with an uplifted hand. They began to call it "the Kikwit handshake." In church, a doctor gave an announcement that people should be aware of an outbreak of "bloody diarrhea" and should wash their hands a lot and avoid bodily contact with others. She said they were fighting something and they did not know what it was.
The men arrived in Kinshasa on Tuesday. The next day the government quarantined the entire Bandundu Province where I was located. The CDC was called in, and we later learned it was Ebola, and Kikwit was the epicenter. John & David had been sleeping in a guest house only about 200 yards from the hospital where eventually over 300 people died!
Back at Mission Garizim, even before the quarantine, I knew something was up, because there was a lot of strange, "coded" shatter on the radio. Missionaries were being told that "they might want to arrange to leave." When they questioned why, no definite reason was given, but there was an uneasiness about the conversation that made me know something serious was up.
In Kinshasa, John was trying to pull strings to get me out so the family could be together, but no permissions were being given & no exceptions made. I later learned that the only flights were for health workers, and the pilot had to take his temperature every hour.
Meanwhile, I was not sure how long it would be before John would be able to come back with the supplies for the mission, and we were already low, so I instituted rations for the students under our care and for ourselves--me and our adopted daughter Kristi.
John was in Kinshasa about three weeks. Mukwa also made it to Kinshasa, but the border was closed behind him. When I heard the whole story, I was thankful that he was not in one of the many trucks stranded at the provincial border, unable to enter the city after making a long & difficult trip to get there.
When I later learned the seriousness of the disease and saw video of workers in hazmat suits bulldozing bodies into a mass, plastic-lined grave, I knew God had been with our family in a special way. I pray for all those struggling for their lives both here and in Africa, and for their families. I pray God will give special wisdom to all who are struggling to contain this killer.
We were living in Congo in a remote outpost called Mission Garizim (Hill of Blessing). Our only communication with the outside was by radio. However, something had gone wrong with the radio and we could hear others talking, but could not call out. John was taking David Bryant back to Kinshasa after visiting the mission. (David later became vice chair & then chair of the ECM Board.)
The men were traveling in the big 10 ton army truck to Kikwit. They stayed there a couple days before catching an airplane to Kinshasa. Our mechanic Mukwa went on to Kinshasa with the truck to get much-needed supplies.
While in Kikwit, John & David noticed that people, usually very friendly, were avoiding shaking hands. Instead, everyone was greeting one another with an uplifted hand. They began to call it "the Kikwit handshake." In church, a doctor gave an announcement that people should be aware of an outbreak of "bloody diarrhea" and should wash their hands a lot and avoid bodily contact with others. She said they were fighting something and they did not know what it was.
The men arrived in Kinshasa on Tuesday. The next day the government quarantined the entire Bandundu Province where I was located. The CDC was called in, and we later learned it was Ebola, and Kikwit was the epicenter. John & David had been sleeping in a guest house only about 200 yards from the hospital where eventually over 300 people died!
Back at Mission Garizim, even before the quarantine, I knew something was up, because there was a lot of strange, "coded" shatter on the radio. Missionaries were being told that "they might want to arrange to leave." When they questioned why, no definite reason was given, but there was an uneasiness about the conversation that made me know something serious was up.
In Kinshasa, John was trying to pull strings to get me out so the family could be together, but no permissions were being given & no exceptions made. I later learned that the only flights were for health workers, and the pilot had to take his temperature every hour.
Meanwhile, I was not sure how long it would be before John would be able to come back with the supplies for the mission, and we were already low, so I instituted rations for the students under our care and for ourselves--me and our adopted daughter Kristi.
John was in Kinshasa about three weeks. Mukwa also made it to Kinshasa, but the border was closed behind him. When I heard the whole story, I was thankful that he was not in one of the many trucks stranded at the provincial border, unable to enter the city after making a long & difficult trip to get there.
When I later learned the seriousness of the disease and saw video of workers in hazmat suits bulldozing bodies into a mass, plastic-lined grave, I knew God had been with our family in a special way. I pray for all those struggling for their lives both here and in Africa, and for their families. I pray God will give special wisdom to all who are struggling to contain this killer.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Society broke down & we were caught in the middle
When the economy breaks down, society breaks down. It happened to the country of Zaire and since we were living there as missionaries, we were caught in the middle.
We lived in the interior and except for a little news on the radio, we had very little communication with the outside world. So I won't attempt to get every detail in historical order but will tell it as I remember it and as it affected us.
The soldiers are at Mission Garizim
There were several army mutinies. My understanding is that like most government workers, the army did not get paid. Somehow they must have felt that this meant they were justified in just taking what they felt "should" be theirs from just anybody. Mission Garizim, that we had started from scratch, was raided, but we were so fortunate. We only lost our typewriters (which we have never been able to replace) and several barrels of fuel. Most other missions were stripped to the bare cement. Even toilets were removed! although I can't imagine what the soldiers did with them.
Upon learning that the soldiers were coming, our people removed most of the mission valuables to the forest, and stayed there with them. Our big truck was out on evangelism. Our workers and students heard that the soldiers were at Garizim, so they turned off the ignition, since any noise can be heard for many miles around, and pushed!!! that 10 ton truck into the bush, covering it with branches and other debris until the soldiers were well out of the area.
Trouble in Kinshasa, and we are there
There was trouble, looting, rioting and random violence off and on for several years. Twice we were in the capital city, Kinshasa, obtaining supplies, when trouble broke out. The first time, we were ordered into protective custody by the US Embassy. All Americans were put together in one apartment building which was guarded by US soldiers. Our family and another were assigned to share one apartment. They were good friends, so it wasn't too bad. Just restrictive.
Facing death
The second time, we were staying at the home of another missionary family. They were out doing some ministry when the roads were blocked and they were not able to return. We had been listening to the radio to know which parts of town to avoid and what days not to go out at all. Certain parts of the city were being looted systematically, which rape and sometimes killing resulting. One day we heard that our neighborhood was been targeted for looting that night. There was no safe way out. We had to stay and face whatever came. I remember that I really felt we might die that night. We could hear gunshots all around us. We got together with the Zairean worker and guard who were there to pray together. We all knelt down on the veranda and committed our lives to the Lord. Tears streamed down my face freely, yet I felt a deep peace, and sense that it would be all right. Not because I thought we would not die but because I had faced that possibility and said, "Yes, Lord. It's OK even if we do die tonight".
I went to bed fully clothed, thinking that sleepwear would encourage soldiers to rape when they came to our friend's house that night. I slept fitfully, awakening once fighting soldiers who were tying me up, only to realize it was only a dream.
Angels guarded us
The next morning, the guard called to us. Trembling, he told us that during the night he had seen angels all across the top of the gate. When we later told our friend who lived there he said, "Well, I'm not much given to seeing angels, and normally I would doubt this. But I can tell you this: "If old Papa Makunza says he saw angels, they were definitely there."
The soldiers never did come to our neighborhood.
We were safe, but so much damage was done. Many lost everything they had. Many suffered the humiliation of rape, usually done in front of their families. Many were killed.
The destruction
Businesses were destroyed. There was an automotive factory in Kinshasa, one of very, very few mass employers. It was looted and utterly destroyed--another casualty in the war on the "rich". Hundreds of people lost their jobs from that one destruction alone, and the plant was never reopened. It sat as an ugly eyesore for years. Finally it was made into a communal market, but those who have booths there merely moved their goods from elsewhere. No new employment was created.
Not only was inventory destroyed and means of production destroyed, but great damage was done to the roads and bridges. Not that the roads were much to brag about to begin with, but during Zaire's upheavals, much further damage was done. This had two effects: 1. Those in the interior found it difficult and often impossible to get agricultural goods to market. As a result, they had food to eat but found it impossible to pay their children's school fees or medical care. And 2. Those in the cities found that food was hard to get, so of course prices skyrocketed. In the end, everyone was hurt.
I suppose that's why, when people here anticipate the breakdown of society following economic problems, I readily see that that is feasible and highly probable. Of course, we can also see it happening on the news in other countries and in places in the US on a lmited scale so far. I experienced it in Zaire, so to me it is far more than just theoretical. I know how easily it can happen.
Through it all, I can only pray that God has mercy on us. As His child, I know He is with us through the hardest of times. It is in Him ultimately that I place my trust.
We lived in the interior and except for a little news on the radio, we had very little communication with the outside world. So I won't attempt to get every detail in historical order but will tell it as I remember it and as it affected us.
The soldiers are at Mission Garizim
There were several army mutinies. My understanding is that like most government workers, the army did not get paid. Somehow they must have felt that this meant they were justified in just taking what they felt "should" be theirs from just anybody. Mission Garizim, that we had started from scratch, was raided, but we were so fortunate. We only lost our typewriters (which we have never been able to replace) and several barrels of fuel. Most other missions were stripped to the bare cement. Even toilets were removed! although I can't imagine what the soldiers did with them.
Upon learning that the soldiers were coming, our people removed most of the mission valuables to the forest, and stayed there with them. Our big truck was out on evangelism. Our workers and students heard that the soldiers were at Garizim, so they turned off the ignition, since any noise can be heard for many miles around, and pushed!!! that 10 ton truck into the bush, covering it with branches and other debris until the soldiers were well out of the area.
Trouble in Kinshasa, and we are there
There was trouble, looting, rioting and random violence off and on for several years. Twice we were in the capital city, Kinshasa, obtaining supplies, when trouble broke out. The first time, we were ordered into protective custody by the US Embassy. All Americans were put together in one apartment building which was guarded by US soldiers. Our family and another were assigned to share one apartment. They were good friends, so it wasn't too bad. Just restrictive.
Facing death
The second time, we were staying at the home of another missionary family. They were out doing some ministry when the roads were blocked and they were not able to return. We had been listening to the radio to know which parts of town to avoid and what days not to go out at all. Certain parts of the city were being looted systematically, which rape and sometimes killing resulting. One day we heard that our neighborhood was been targeted for looting that night. There was no safe way out. We had to stay and face whatever came. I remember that I really felt we might die that night. We could hear gunshots all around us. We got together with the Zairean worker and guard who were there to pray together. We all knelt down on the veranda and committed our lives to the Lord. Tears streamed down my face freely, yet I felt a deep peace, and sense that it would be all right. Not because I thought we would not die but because I had faced that possibility and said, "Yes, Lord. It's OK even if we do die tonight".
I went to bed fully clothed, thinking that sleepwear would encourage soldiers to rape when they came to our friend's house that night. I slept fitfully, awakening once fighting soldiers who were tying me up, only to realize it was only a dream.
Angels guarded us
The next morning, the guard called to us. Trembling, he told us that during the night he had seen angels all across the top of the gate. When we later told our friend who lived there he said, "Well, I'm not much given to seeing angels, and normally I would doubt this. But I can tell you this: "If old Papa Makunza says he saw angels, they were definitely there."
The soldiers never did come to our neighborhood.
We were safe, but so much damage was done. Many lost everything they had. Many suffered the humiliation of rape, usually done in front of their families. Many were killed.
The destruction
Businesses were destroyed. There was an automotive factory in Kinshasa, one of very, very few mass employers. It was looted and utterly destroyed--another casualty in the war on the "rich". Hundreds of people lost their jobs from that one destruction alone, and the plant was never reopened. It sat as an ugly eyesore for years. Finally it was made into a communal market, but those who have booths there merely moved their goods from elsewhere. No new employment was created.
Not only was inventory destroyed and means of production destroyed, but great damage was done to the roads and bridges. Not that the roads were much to brag about to begin with, but during Zaire's upheavals, much further damage was done. This had two effects: 1. Those in the interior found it difficult and often impossible to get agricultural goods to market. As a result, they had food to eat but found it impossible to pay their children's school fees or medical care. And 2. Those in the cities found that food was hard to get, so of course prices skyrocketed. In the end, everyone was hurt.
I suppose that's why, when people here anticipate the breakdown of society following economic problems, I readily see that that is feasible and highly probable. Of course, we can also see it happening on the news in other countries and in places in the US on a lmited scale so far. I experienced it in Zaire, so to me it is far more than just theoretical. I know how easily it can happen.
Through it all, I can only pray that God has mercy on us. As His child, I know He is with us through the hardest of times. It is in Him ultimately that I place my trust.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
This is TERRIBLE place to work...Can I get a job here?
I was exhausted. It had been another long day of arguing with the Zairean "work inspector." He was one of the endless parade of government officials that would visit Mission Garizim between September and January 1. It was not easy in those days to get their "bonne fete" (New Year's gift).
There has to be an infraction here someplace
We did our very best to pay all the mission workers as fairly and generously as we could. I had long ago recognized that no matter what the workers were paid, the work inspector would always come up with SOME reason to find us in an infraction. We doubted that the fines and taxes we paid ever made it to any government office or project. The annual pattern of visits made it quite clear what it was all about.
We had to pay a tax because we weren't giving our workers a housing allowance. "But they don't NEED a housing allowance!" I insisted. We provide complete housing for them for free. That did not make a difference. Even if their housing was provided, they still had to have a housing allowance. That's what the law said. He had a paper to "prove" it. So that was an infraction, and an infraction demands a tax.
We argued extra long. Our funds were getting very low. There had been too many others like this inspector before him, and we knew there would be more in the coming days. All day he had been haranguing us. I had listened to it for so long that I had begun to wonder if we were not some low-life slime buckets trying to rip off the Africans after all. We had done everything in the book wrong according to him.
Then as he walked back to the main road, his "bonne fete" (our tax) tucked tightly into his pocket, he turned to our staff member who was accompanying him. "Do you think I could get a job here?" he asked.
Thank you, sir! That question helped put it all in perspective for me.
The devolution
During our first term I did not even know about Zaire's "Code du Travail" (Work Laws). They must have existed, but they were not applied to missions. We lived and hired workers happily. However, as the country's economy deteriorated, officials became more and more desperate to try to get funds anywhere they could. Immediate cash was the goal regardless of the long-term consequences. I remember the first visit of the "Inspecteur du Travail" (Work Inspector) to Mission Garizim. I about fainted when he listed all the requirements for hiring workers. The long list was obviously intended for big corporations making big profits. For small groups like ours it was death three times over. It was really as if the worker became your child and your dependent. You were expected to provide virtually everything for him.
Impossible to Fire? Nearly!
The worst part was that the laws made it virtually impossible to fire anybody. We still have workers on our work roll in the interior that we have not needed for ten years. We keep them just because it is more expensive to fire them than it is to keep them working even if they did nothing. Their jobs are dead-end job for them. We will never promote them because we don't really need them. If, however, we are out of money and cannot continue, we could let them go then, according to the law. But of course we would pay even more dearly to do that, since other fines would apply then.
Some missions hired a special accounting agency and paid them a considerable monthly fee to do nothing but try to keep them in the good graces of the "code du travail". In the end they, too, were levied devastating fines and ended up leaving the country.
Consequences of Restrictive Work Laws
As a result of all the upheavals Zaire (now Congo) went through, the streets have filled with homeless street children. We have developed a wonderful ministry to street children in Kinshasa. But we cannot start a home for them, because we would have to hire workers. To hire workers, we'd have to follow the "Code du Travail", which is still in place. I hate it every time I have to tell our staff no, sorry, we simply cannot cope with the "Code du Travail." Even if it means that we cannot do some of the things we would dearly like to do. Even if it means that street kids still sleep on the street. It's just not feasible as long as that work code is still in place, or at least, as long as it is applied to mission agencies and other non-profit organizations.
Our experience struggling with the work code in Zaire is how I came to understand how damaging restrictive work laws can be. We are not trying to make a profit; we are just trying to support the ministries to which we commit. We cannot support them if we follow the present work laws, so we have to walk away from opportunities to help some of the most desperate. I feel overwhelmingly sad every time I think about it, and yet I know it is the right decision. Hopefully one day Congo will change the work laws it inherited from the Mobutu era and set up new, more flexible laws that protect workers while encouraging employers. Then we and others will be able to do much more to help the needy.
There has to be an infraction here someplace
We did our very best to pay all the mission workers as fairly and generously as we could. I had long ago recognized that no matter what the workers were paid, the work inspector would always come up with SOME reason to find us in an infraction. We doubted that the fines and taxes we paid ever made it to any government office or project. The annual pattern of visits made it quite clear what it was all about.
We had to pay a tax because we weren't giving our workers a housing allowance. "But they don't NEED a housing allowance!" I insisted. We provide complete housing for them for free. That did not make a difference. Even if their housing was provided, they still had to have a housing allowance. That's what the law said. He had a paper to "prove" it. So that was an infraction, and an infraction demands a tax.
We argued extra long. Our funds were getting very low. There had been too many others like this inspector before him, and we knew there would be more in the coming days. All day he had been haranguing us. I had listened to it for so long that I had begun to wonder if we were not some low-life slime buckets trying to rip off the Africans after all. We had done everything in the book wrong according to him.
Then as he walked back to the main road, his "bonne fete" (our tax) tucked tightly into his pocket, he turned to our staff member who was accompanying him. "Do you think I could get a job here?" he asked.
Thank you, sir! That question helped put it all in perspective for me.
The devolution
During our first term I did not even know about Zaire's "Code du Travail" (Work Laws). They must have existed, but they were not applied to missions. We lived and hired workers happily. However, as the country's economy deteriorated, officials became more and more desperate to try to get funds anywhere they could. Immediate cash was the goal regardless of the long-term consequences. I remember the first visit of the "Inspecteur du Travail" (Work Inspector) to Mission Garizim. I about fainted when he listed all the requirements for hiring workers. The long list was obviously intended for big corporations making big profits. For small groups like ours it was death three times over. It was really as if the worker became your child and your dependent. You were expected to provide virtually everything for him.
Impossible to Fire? Nearly!
The worst part was that the laws made it virtually impossible to fire anybody. We still have workers on our work roll in the interior that we have not needed for ten years. We keep them just because it is more expensive to fire them than it is to keep them working even if they did nothing. Their jobs are dead-end job for them. We will never promote them because we don't really need them. If, however, we are out of money and cannot continue, we could let them go then, according to the law. But of course we would pay even more dearly to do that, since other fines would apply then.
Some missions hired a special accounting agency and paid them a considerable monthly fee to do nothing but try to keep them in the good graces of the "code du travail". In the end they, too, were levied devastating fines and ended up leaving the country.
Consequences of Restrictive Work Laws
As a result of all the upheavals Zaire (now Congo) went through, the streets have filled with homeless street children. We have developed a wonderful ministry to street children in Kinshasa. But we cannot start a home for them, because we would have to hire workers. To hire workers, we'd have to follow the "Code du Travail", which is still in place. I hate it every time I have to tell our staff no, sorry, we simply cannot cope with the "Code du Travail." Even if it means that we cannot do some of the things we would dearly like to do. Even if it means that street kids still sleep on the street. It's just not feasible as long as that work code is still in place, or at least, as long as it is applied to mission agencies and other non-profit organizations.
Our experience struggling with the work code in Zaire is how I came to understand how damaging restrictive work laws can be. We are not trying to make a profit; we are just trying to support the ministries to which we commit. We cannot support them if we follow the present work laws, so we have to walk away from opportunities to help some of the most desperate. I feel overwhelmingly sad every time I think about it, and yet I know it is the right decision. Hopefully one day Congo will change the work laws it inherited from the Mobutu era and set up new, more flexible laws that protect workers while encouraging employers. Then we and others will be able to do much more to help the needy.
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