I have decided to place this e-mail I received on the situation in Niger on my blog. 

Dear Mission Family,

1. Caring for the emotional and physical health of the missionary team directly affected by the flood.
2. Identifying housing: We have 53 people (including children) who are displaced because of the flooding. We are working to identify appropriate, affordable housing in a favorable location for respective ministries.
3. Assuring security: The flooding presents unique challenges to security. To date there is no reported incidences of looting.
4. Recovering and restoring facilities: We are mounting an effort to recover assets and resources from the flooded properties. In the future, we will be also working to restore these properties.
5. Offering Relief: We have employees and neighbors who have suffered even greater loss than we have. We would like to offer relief and assistance to these families as well. We will work with churches and community groups to insure that help is supplied to those who need it most.

We first met Aamadu (old Aamadu as he was affectionately known) when we moved to Djibo in 2002 and he was introduced as our guard. To be honest, he did seem rather old to be a guard.... but that was now his position and guarding he did to the best of his ability as well as looking after our animals and providing our daughter with the odd handful of nyiiri (millet porridge). Needless to say, he also became part of the family, living with us on the yard.

Old Aamadu was one of the believers in the Fulani church. Originating from Mali, most his life he had spent as a shepherd travelling all over West Africa herding cattle from one town to the next, eventually settling down in Djibo when his age no longer agreed with the harsh lifestyle of a shepherd.

It was his wife who first started attending bible studies at the church but very sadly died in 1998 under suspicious circumstances. Now, you may not believe in witchcraft but that is beside the point. In much of West Africa occultism is still alive and kicking and the story goes that Aamadu's wife along with their three children had been put under a curse by one of the local 'old women', probably as a result of his wife attending a Christian group at the time, going against local Islamic tradition. Over several months the missionary family, who worked in Djibo at the time, watched Aamadu's wife and three children get sicker and sicker as one by one they all died. During this incredibly painful time the Christian community cared for them and even helped bury them as they passed away.

Up to this point Aamadu had not been interested in the gospel, but on seeing the love and compassion shown to his family by the Christian community things slowly changed. One of the missionaries who helped care for Aamadu's family described his coming to Christ as nothing short of a miracle as he explained to me that, "during this time old Aamadu grew closer and closer to God, the truth of the gospel, and the other Christian Fulani. It seemed he went from nothing to a genuine Christian faith over a period of some of the greatest personal tribulation one could imagine. But instead of cursing God he made peace with him".

Aamadu did marry again in 2002 but his ability to produce children had passed and with no immediate family of his own this left an aging Fulani man incredibly vulnerable in the Djibo context. A year and a half ago we had to retire him as he could no longer function even as a guard, but he was allowed to stay on the mission property as he had nowhere else to go and we were also able to take care of his material needs. A bit like an old folk's home for one. Since then we watched as age and ill health slowly took hold, but over the past couple of weeks he took a turn for the worse, unable to take care of his own most basic needs.

It was practical love in action that won him to Christ over 14 years ago and now it was practical love in action that was helping him in his final hours as the Djibo Christians took care of his every need. Now unable to control his bodily functions, a number of times the Djibo pastor, Jodoma, cleaned up his mess. The believers were there 24/7 keeping an eye on him up until, on the evening of the 19^th March 2012, he went home to be with the Lord.

The following day both Cheryl and I, along with two Fulani friends from the Bible school drove up to Djibo to be with the believers and to support Jodoma in a short service at the Djibo cemetery. It was a time of sadness mixed with joy as we said our goodbyes to an old friend, knowing that one day we will see him again on the other side of eternity. A hope based not on vague fanciful thinking, but on truth.

Hebrews 6:19 We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.

Over 4000 refugees now occupy the camps at Mentao, 10km south of the Sahelian town of Djibo. Their stories carry a certain level of uniformity in that they are being forced to flee from their homeland, it would seem, because of their ethnicity, Touareg. Rejected and chased out by their fellow countrymen and now distrusted by the local population of their new, though temporary, residence they find themselves as the unwanted people.

Each day they arrive and each day the local authorities come down and take the recensement in order to keep tabs on the movement of these alien guests. Various organisations are in constant debate as to what to do, ever aware of the restrictions of already stretched budgets as famine continues to tighten its grip on the whole of the region this year. A few tents have been distributed as well as a number of water bladders to provide clean drinking water plus a small amount of foodstuffs, but the needs continue to out stretch the means.

It's an overwhelming situation for all involved: For the authorities, as it looks at an already desperate situation, for those who have been given the task of coordinating relief with little resources to work with, and for those who nobody seems to want, a sense of helplessness, at the mercy of everybody and everything.

One of the advantages of being a part of an organisation such as ours is that we are able to act quicker than some of the larger ones as we look to personal contacts not only for funds but also practical support. The week starting the 27^th February we, as a mission, were able to purchase and distribute several tons of food stuffs at the two camps of Mentao and we are now looking to do well repairs in the area in order that the lack of clean drinking water doesn't add to the problems. We were very grateful to those who contributed financially to the aid we distributed and for the team of Touareg Christians who came over from neighbouring Niger to help with both logistics and outreach.

It's not as if we were able to solve all their problems. Practically, this is way beyond us. But we were able to demonstrate the love of Christ in a very tangible way. It would be nice to "fix" their suffering completely, but it is better to do a little than nothing at all. One of the things my friend at the camp said to me when the truck rolled up with the foodstuffs was, "look at people's faces, they are brighter" he said. "They now know that not everybody has abandoned them. Thank you."

It's not the first time refugees have visited his camp. He himself came over as a refugee from Timbuktu in the early 90s and decided to stay as it was more peaceful in Burkina than in his home country of Mali. The second time was in 2008 when an uprising broke out between Touareg rebels and the Malian military as the Touaregs struggled for an independent state in the northern regions. That time the Mentao camp saw an increase of around 300 people and around 900 in the surrounding areas. This time, however, the number of people is over 1000 in Mohamed's camp alone.

It would be unwise of me to attribute blame to any given party or even make uninformed comments about governments but the mix of people who are fleeing over the border into Burkina don't paint a very good picture. They range from poor shepherds to business men, from Police to university student but the common theme is the colour of their skin and they are fleeing for their lives. Most have come with what they are standing up in where as others have tried to pack as much as possible into vehicles. There is no need to doubt the authenticity of their stories as you listen to the death threats put out on many of their lives with homes and businesses destroyed.

As we walked around the camp all my friend could say to me was, "how can I feed all these people? I have already used up any food that we had".

How do you answer a question like that? I'm hoping with action.

As of yet we don't know how desperate the situation is going to get but as this week continues we should get a clearer picture as to what may be needed to help alleviate some of the misery.

As the Djibo pastor and I drove though Kongoussi we knew that the smooth ride was just about to come to an end.  Not having visited Djibo for five months I had nearly forgotten how bad the road dirt could get on the northern side of this provincial town.  To drive on it you wouldn't think that it was the main road to the north of Burkina servicing both one of the countries larger gold mines and the largest cattle market in Burkina. 

For a long time Djibo has always felt like a forgotten town, only visited when absolutely necessary.  For me, however, it's always a little like coming home in a strange kind of way.  As we drive though the streets heading into Djibo town people do double takes and then wave frantically.  Familiar faces, sights & smells... very happy to forget some of the smells though.

Although the trip was only a short visit it was packed with greeting and visiting friends.  Being rainy season it's often hard reaching some of the outlying villages and so, on the Wednesday morning, I headed down to the cattle market.  It's the one day of the week when the bush comes into town.  As I made my way through the livestock, some with precariously long horns, I gained fresh incite as to why the hunted have eyes on the side of the head and not the front as I make every effort to avoid being impaled by one of these magnificent beasts.  

It was an absolute thrill to be able to catch up with Fulani friends from outlying villages as we joked and chatted in the midst of the jostling cattle.  By the time I left it was midday and I had run out of water and beginning to feel the effects.  The afternoon was spent visiting more friends and by the time Thursday afternoon came I had acquired a travelling companion for my trip back down to the capital.

Muhamed is a Touareg friend I have known for many years, and as we headed back down the poor excuse for a road we talked West African politics, Tuareg uprisings and Al-Qaida.  An interesting conversation as we switched between French and Fulfulde as we searched for a fuller vocabulary to express ourselves.  An interesting conversation as we exited the Sahel region of Burkina Faso.

Having read this article by a good friend I felt it right to place a link on my blog. The blog highlights an incident that has taken place in the town of Djibo where the result of carless transportation of toxic chemicals by a gold mining company has affected the population surrounding the town in no small way, so please read on.

I'm thinking it is probably about time I placed more entries in my blog as it's been a long while since I last wrote. Time seems to have flown and life seems to have taken on a number of changes one of which is our daughter now being at boarding school along with her big brother leaving just Sam at home with mum & dad delighting in the fact that he now has his parents' undivided attention with his siblings gone for a few months.

In a few days we will be saying our farewells to our two oldest as we head back over the border, making our way back to the Big Mango (Ouagadougou). It is such a contrast to living in Djibo and I'm still not sure if I like it or not. Sometimes it feels as if one has taken the finger off the pulse a little, a slight sense of detachment after living so close to the Fulani for over eight years. But I guess you can feel a sense of detachment from living in most capital cities. Anonymity is always one of the snares of city life but it does make it all the more special when we visit our friends in Djibo where people know who we are and we know them.

Before we left to see Josh I guess things were settling in my mind and I was feeling a little happier about the fact that he may only do 7 IGCEs, but I wanted to chat with him, look at his stuff and chat with the school.  There were some big concerns over the level of English work he was doing and how easy was it going to be do online courses out of school time?  I was also hoping to try and see if they would consider doing at least a geography iGCSE in school time....

So, we meet Josh, it was so lovely to see him again. He's grown, his feet have grown, his hair has grown and even his nails (he stopped biting them!)  We found him in the mornings up before us, doing revision work (he actually had no homework for the hols) that he was choosing to do... where was my boy?!

Josh seems to have made some good mates in the dorm and in school; we got his report and met with his teachers on Monday.  His report was good and all saying the same thing, he is doing well, coping well, adjusting and not daft... but he is talking a bit too much in class....!!! We laughed at this.  I know he shouldn't be talking but it was actually an encouragement to us ( in a funny sort of way!) Last year at Princethorpe college was hard socially for him and at his parents teacher meetings they all said the same, doing well, not daft etc etc... but he doesn't say boo to a goose!  It was encouraging to us to hear that he is obviously being himself, as he is happy there..... We did say we would stop his allowance if he continued to  talk in class though!

I was unsure whether to mention that I was concerned about the level of the work that he was doing in a couple of subjects as I didn't want to sound critical but yet didn't think it was an acceptable level of work that he was doing... so I just said it how it was!  The acting principal (a lovely lady) said 'aah yes, we are very aware of that situation and are in the process of addressing it.  In many ways we see this as an answer to prayer.

Before I got onto the subject of iGCSEs, she mentioned that the school had been talking about Josh and how to accommodate his need for more iGCSEs and were thinking of introducing either history or geog next year, probably geography...I nearly kissed her!

So that will mean Josh can take, Maths, English lit, lang, French, biology IT, sociology, geography and possibly physical science.  So whilst he will still be doing more than his American peers who only have to get 5 it will mean that the work will be done in school time.

We were very encouraged.

It's wasn't easy saying goodbye again, but we all felt a lot more peaceful about the situation.

So I just wanted to let you know how it went, and to thank you for your prayers and support for us all in this area.

Just yesterday I was asked if I would be able to bring the 8 year old son of one of the Fulani bible college student in from Gampela to one of the Ouaga hospitals.  He had suspected Malaria.  Unfortunately I wasn't able but a colleague of mine was able to make the trip.  On arriving they found he had become very anaemic and needed a blood transfusion but sadly it was all too late.  About 9 o'clock last night he passed away.  The little boy was buried this morning and a number of us made the trip out to the Bible school to visit with his family and pray with them.

Each year Malaria takes hundreds of lives in Burkina Faso and this year seems to have been particularly bad with hospitals overflowing with Malaria cases.  For many this will be just one more victim of the parasite, but for Idrisa, his wife and those at the Bible school, this has had no small impact.

Please pray for those whom this loss has affected as they come to grips with the loss.