Fighting for justice and baking lessons

“… "Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." Proverbs 31:8-9.

"....may the groan of the prisoners come before you: by the strength of your arm preserve those condemned to die.” Psalm 79:1

Being able to be involved in fighting on behalf of people for their freedom was not something I anticipated doing in Nigeria, but has been one of the most rewarding and satisfying endeavors.  As most of you know, I have been leading a bible study in the women’s prison. This has allowed me to get to know the women and hear their stories. Over the months I have been visiting the prison and my work with ASPIR (Advocacy for the Support of Prisoners and Indigents Rights), I have heard so many stories of injustice that it breaks my heart. I have come to learn that the Nigerian justice system sentences people before trials and then again after if they are found guilty at trial. The sentence is terminated if found not guilty, but this happens for those ’lucky’ enough to ever be tried at all.

Prisoners are refused bail and kept behind bas for years without trial.  70% of prison inmates in Nigeria are awaiting trials, while 30% comprise those under trail and those already convicted. I have heard and read testimonies of those that have been detained and waited 9 years for a trial! Most accused will wait between 1 and 5 years for a trial date, whilst being treated as guilty. I have seen most of the suspects in the prison isolated, unable to contact family and friends and with few, if any visitors who remember them. In talking to a lawyer friend who works closely with the prison system, she expressed her opinion that in Nigeria, incarceration worsens the condition of prisoners instead of reforming them. She also shared the truth that most inmates awaiting trial did not commit the offences that they are accused of; they are mere suspects.  

Bearing all this in mind, when I heard the full story of one of the newer ladies last Monday, I decided to try and do something about it. Chindu is a mother of 3, recently widowed, and 3 months pregnant. She was accused of concealing stolen goods and sentenced to 2 years in prison or a fee of 10,000N (about $75 NZD).  In talking to her, she explained that she was given some curlers to use in her small hair salon, and was not aware they were in fact stolen. 2 years seemed like a long time away from her children for such a petty crime, even if she had committed it!

I made contact with a lawyer that another missionary had used previously to help in the process of paying the fee to free prisoners and she did some investigating, found the court she was convicted in and verified the validity of Chindu’s story and the facilitated the money transfer on my behalf. I saw her one last time before her release and even though I’d asked for things to be kept anonymous, she knew I was responsible and despite the language barrier I could tell she was grateful beyond expression.

On a very different note, Fiona and I hosted a birthday party for a Nigerian girlfriend of ours last Friday. She had never had a party before, so it was a great thing to be able to do for her. We ended up having over 50 Nigerians attend! Fiona and I along with 2 Nigerian girls spent the whole of Friday cooking and decorating, which was an exhausting job but well worth the effort. We would have been lost without the Nigerians’ as I’ve never had to cater for 50 before! Learnt a lot about Nigerian culture over the evening as well. In the West when we host ‘parties’ or gatherings in our homes, people who attend will stand around, mingle, meet new people, maybe dance a bit to the music that is playing in the background,  and generally just BE, but Nigerians expect to be entertained! They expect the party to have a programme, an MC, and a games master in charge of the evening.

We were busy playing games, had been broken up into teams and were planning songs and dances to perform for the birthday girl, but I was getting hungry. It was about 8pm and I was a bot concerned the food would be getting cold so I quietly suggested we eat (we'd prepared a full Nigerian meal for guests) but was kindly told that if we served the food, people would then leave! Sure enough, after we'd played games for  an hour or so and the men started demanding food we ate and by 9pm people were saying goodbye. Part of this of course is that the public aren't allowed out on the streets late at night for security reasons but it was just so bizarre to me because 9pm is when parties really get started back home!

Lamella and Nuhu dancing for rapping for Blessing 

We also had a cooking competition at our compound after church on Sunday. We had teams of about 5-6 people and split into 3 groups: mains, salads and baking. I was in charge of baking team and I had Nigerian girls in my team that had obviously never baked before (only very wealthy Nigerians own ovens) and didn't quite grasp the concept of following a recipe! They all make things by touch, taste and instinct, from having seen their mothers do it hundreds of times. They kept praising my ability and were in wonder of how I knew how to make cookies and brownies, I kept telling them all I was doing was reading from a book! After we'd iced the cookies, the girls then started asking me about how to make wedding cake icing…..I had to tell them that I actually had no idea and my baking repertoire really was limited to cakes, muffins, biscuits and slices! They have no scheduled me for baking lessons! More fun times ahead.

The Baking Team: Winners of the day!

Nigerian Drivers Test

See if you can answer the Nigerian driving test correctly, it will tell you if you could be a true Nigerian driver.....I'm almost there!

*Answers are in italic.

1. What is the most important part of any car (or any moving vehicle)?
1. tires
2. brakes
3. steering wheel
4. air conditioning
5. horn

2. Which of the following is not acceptable in a traffic jam?
1. driving (NOT "passing") in the 'opposite-direction-traffic-lane'
2. making a 2 lane highway into 4 lanes
3. hitting the vehicle on your left with your hand
4. having the passenger on the right hit the vehicle on their right with your hand
5. none of the above...they are all acceptable

3. What is another name for a pedestrian?
   Risk taker
4. What is another name for a traffic light?
   Wishful Thinking
5. How much space do you leave between your car and the cars on your left and right side?
   
   Minimum space to leave: 1 inch (2.5 centimeters)
   Maximum space to leave: If the driver's left hand can not touch the car to his/her left, then there is too much space in between the cars. The same applies for a passenger on the right and the car to the right.
6. Who is at fault in a collision
1. the driver who changes lanes without using the signal or leaving enough room to merge.
2. the driver who gets hit because he/she didn't honk loudly when the driver above started getting into his/her lane. 

7. Which of the following are you LEAST likely to see on the road as you are driving?
1. A child selling items
2. The elderly selling items
3. Motorcycles zipping in and out of traffic
4. People fighting
5. Someone in a vehicle smiling and relaxed

From broken bones to Nigerian weaves

I was reflecting the other day, while walking down town to the open-air market for groceries, about how much fun it is to live in a smaller African city. I was thinking about the things that I now take for granted, that make my days so interesting, and the things I will miss once I’m home. I couldn’t help smiling as I listening to the men chatting and joking good naturedly, the women calling out to me for my custom, the constant honking of horns, the loud music being played from trucks parked in the middle of the road selling either Indomie noodles or Hypo laundry powder, the squawking of live chickens or the quacking of ducks tucked under the arms or vendors. Then there's the smells; the raw meat on huge chopping blocks (and the intestines shaped like honeycomb) and cows tongues, the dried fish (and some still alive, squirming in wheelbarrows of water), even the mud from the rain the night before smells of African earth. Then there’s the colours; the vibrant greens of spinach and okra, the red of tomatoes and hot chili peppers, the bright-multicoloured Nigerian wrappers, and the fluorescent shades of the younger generations clothing. You can't become distracted for one minute or take your eyes off your feet otherwise you'll fall down a gutter, stand in a muddy puddle, step on someones wares or bump into someone carefully balancing trays of fresh peanuts or ribena berries on their heads. Having to greet everyone that greets you is also exhausting, but makes for such a sense of community. Home is going to be so boring in comparison!

I got a phone call at 8pm last Sunday night from one of the Uncles out at Gyero. He went on to tell me one of the boys had been playing and had fractured his hand. I asked a few questions over the phone to ascertain the extent of the injury and learnt that the assumed break was “near his thumb and there is a small bruise”. After giving instructions over the phone for pain relief and immobilisation, I assured the staff I would come first thing the next morning to take Michael for an x-ray.  Once I arrived at Gyero, the real story came out! Michael had fallen, and was then seen with his arm bent in half and the bones sticking out! He had broken BOTH his ulnar and radius mid shaft and the bones had punctured the skin! One of the uncles had straightened the bone immediately and put on a very effective splint made of bamboo sticks, packing and a bandage (I commended his efforts and technique later). Michael, who usually has a very staunch countenance, even for a 14 year old, was sobbing quietly, which broke my heart; I doubt he’d slept much that night either. I took Michael for an x-ray and got to use my radiography skills practically for the first time since I’ve been here. When I explained the importance of good views (at ninety degrees from each other) for diagnostic purposes and planning for a potential surgery, he looked at me with a bewildered lost face and asked me to come and show him what I meant. I didn’t need anymore of an invitation that that! After we were back at clinic, I helped the surgeon in theatre as we sedated him, attempted to realign the bones, and placed him in a temporary cast. Time will tell if the bones heal by themselves or whether he’ll need some internal fixation.

Two days later on a routine visit to Transition House to check on the older boys health, after chatting with the uncle there for over an hour and him assuring me there was no sickness at present, Kelly and I were about to start the car to leave when he remembered one boy who had complained that morning about feeling unwell. We got back out of the car and entered the compound to find David unconscious sprawled on the concrete floor. He was febrile and unresponsive. I thanked God that Kelly was there at the time because of her experience with Malaria in Nigeria she recognised the symptoms and we rushed to the nearest pharmacy and got some IV fluids, some intra muscular Malaria medication and other bits and pieces for symptom control. Kelly herself had suffered the same symptoms including the Black Water Fever element (peeing coke coloured urine!) and so knew the importance of hydration. After an hour and a half and a litre of IV fluids, David had regained consciousness and was able to start taking oral fluids. I returned the next few days to give the rest of the medication, but by day 3, David was a different boy, still very brave while I jabbed him in the butt with needles, but now able to joke about it with me!

Another highlight of my weekend was a meeting I had with some Nigerian girls who will be fellow bridesmaids at the up coming wedding of a mutual friend. We discussed transport, accommodation, decided on a dress style, jewelry and shoes, then the conversation turned to hair…that was where it became irrelevant for me! Because Nigerian women ‘make’ their hair, i.e. they all wear extensions; they needed to decide on the colour, the attachment and the style once the weave was applied.  I’m positive the grass is always greener in this instance, but I actually envy the ladies having the opportunity to recreate their image each 4-6 weeks! From a short bob cut to long flowing curly locks or braids, the sky is the limit for possibilities. Apparently for the first few days it hurts a lot as the weave is so tight and I often wonder how a lot of the ladies sleep with their huge heavy braids, but combined with the amazing eye make up Nigerian’s can get away with on their dark skin, I anticipate walking into the church with some very stunning ladies indeed!

Muddy roads, surgeries and sleeping on the floor!

So life has been fairly quiet around Jos of late, no bombings or riots to mention. There was some gunfire outside my compound last Friday afternoon, which was alarming until I ascertained that it was mearly the military trying to make a path through the congested traffic with their trucks. Obviously people weren’t moving quickly enough for them. They probably just wanted to get home for tea. I swear those guys are a law unto themselves.

But please continue to pray for safety in Jos as we are coming up to the Muslim Eid (the holiday which marks the end of the Muslim fasting month of Ramadan) and the days of Selah (celebration) following. We’ve been told to keep a low profile this weekend incase of any problems, but God willing it will be uneventful.

My work has been going well with the kids; despite the difficulties we’ve been having getting down the Gyero road. The persistent rain has meant that, as predicted, the road has turned to mud and once I’d had several scary trips myself where I prayed out loud for help to get through several deep sections of road and heard reports from others who actually had to get towed out; I started hitching a ride with others because I’ve been too anxious going alone! Even the bulldozer that the road builders brought in to repair the road got stuck in the mud for a week! I just don’t have the experience of driving in and negotiating a truck in the mud in 4WD mode. I’m continuing to pray that none of the children get seriously ill while my visits continue to be sporadic due to the weather. The picture below I took from one of the huge trucks the move dirt up and down the road. We were offered a ride after we had parked the truck before a particularly muddy part we couldn't pass and started walking towards the orphanage.

Getting a ride down the Gyero road

Despite the road, I took one of the girls from Gyero to have her appendix out at one of the clinics here in Jos last weekend. It went really well, there were no complications, the appendix was definetly inflamed and needed to come out (they don’t have imagining here to actually definitively say it is infected) and she had minimal pain as she recovered. I would say the most interesting part of the whole ideal was when I got given the appendix in a little jar of formalin to take to one of the larger hospitals for testing. I was a little incredulous that I had to take it myself and to a hospital that was a fair journey out of the city, but was assured I could do it at my convenience. So Fiona and Angie were able to appreciate the comic value of driving with the appendix (which was situated in the well of the car, by my hand brake) for the next few days.

Elizabeth prepped for surgery

So most of the missionaries are back now after their summer breaks. Kelly got back on Friday and it will be interesting to see how dynamics change in the health ministry. It has been such a great experience being solo for 2 months, it’s forced me to make decisions and become more confident in my own judgments out of necessity, but I am looking forward to being able to gleam more medical expertise off Kelly.

I had a fun night at a Nigerian’s friends apartment complex the other week. I was invited over for a meal and entered her small rented room, where the only piece of furniture she owned was a matress on the floor! We had a great night of jisting (Nigerian slang for chatting and joking) and hanging out on the bed and ate a delicious meal of Eugusi soup and semo tuwo. It definatly had me thinking why we in the West even have beds. Why do we insist on everything being off the floor? Chairs and table….everything is raised. The Asian population are fine with eating and sleeping on the floor. I was even contemplating getting a good mattress and following suit once home until I thought a bit more about it and in discussion concluded that beds must have evolved because of a hygiene and health concern. It makes sense that in colder countries with damp and mildrew,, being off the cold floor would have been better for avoiding colds and such.  So I think I’ll still be sleeping on a bed once I’m back in NZ.

Another interesting thing I’ve noticed about visiting Nigerian homes is that they all want to show you their photos. Small piles of photos, are brought out and a commentary offered as you flick through them. The pictures are all of the photos they’ve compiled over their lives, dating as far back as their parents wedding, birth of siblings, then tracking their childhood to graduation, but also including ex-boyfriends, even photos of friends and friends parents, all posed, most with colourful boarders. It’s a funny feeling knowing that when you print off photos for Nigerian friends they will go into the collection and be shown to other friends for years to come.

Girls in the kitchen..mixing the Semovita for dinner

I went out to a village last week with my flatmate Angie to see a new birthing centre that has been started. When the missionaries went in and surveyed the people to find out what their health needs were, they found that the mortality rate for babies and mothers was 50%! We had a great afternoon visiting with the kids and seeing what has been started out there. It's exciting to think that more mothers and babies will be surviving because of such a basic development within the community.

Some of the gorgeous kids at the village

Road Trip!

 An offer was put out a month back to any people in Jos over the summer who wanted to accompany a family of five on their summer holiday to Obudu. With a desire to see more of the Nigerian countryside I gladly stuck up my hand to be included. So at 6am last Saturday morning a group of nine of us embarked on a massive 10-hour trip across Nigeria, crossing state boarders, being pulled over numerous times by the Military, and having to stop to relieve ourselves in the bushes along the way (being weary of snakes in the long grass!). We only had one occasion where we were forced to pay for some incomplete paperwork, which at the time made me furious, but in retrospect was very good going…..I think the fact we were a car full of sweetly smiling white women helped our situation at a lot of check points!

Our first night was spent in Obudu town ship. We found hotel with a double bed to sleep 3 of us girls, a toilet with no toilet seat and a fan which we were promised would run all night on generator, but which turned off at 1230am leaving us hot and bothered and unable to sleep!

The second day we headed up the famous Obudu mountain. It was muggy and overcast at the bottom, but as we drove the 11km up the winding road we entered into fog and fine misty rain. We were literally in the clouds! We wanted to stay up top but to our disappointment, the luxury accommodation was WAY out of our price range (we got a tour around the presidential suite just for fun, which also has a helipad!) at the Cattle Ranch Hotel, but a nice tour guide showed us a little village 5 minutes from the Ranch on the other side of the mountain top where we found adequate rooms for a lot cheaper. By this time I was FREEZING! I never imagined Africa could be so cold, and I certainly hadn’t packed for this climate (not that I had many clothes back in Jos that would have suited the weather anyway!), but considering we were 1600m above sea level, I guess it made sense.  We moved our bags into the hostel (which again has a double bed for us 3 girls, a slightly bigger bathroom WITH a toilet with a seat (horray!), but again it was cold bucket showers and intermittent electricity and generator from 6pm-5am. Fiona and I thought we’d make the most of the colder weather and run down the Obudu Mountain. The Obudu Mountain Race (OMR) is a very famous uphill race which people from all over the African continent come to run once a year in November.  I couldn’t even comprehend running all the way up, but would have taken part in a relay race and offered to do that down hill leg! Well that is until the next day, when I could barely walk my muscles were so sore from the 10km downhill. It wasn’t the length of our run that was the culprit; cardiovascularly I was fine - it was the repetitive jarring motion on my joints that was the killer. The next morning I almost fell over trying to get out of bed, my calves and glutes were in agony. Both Fiona and I walked like we’d been seriously injured for 2 days!  We look the gondola back up the mountain, which was lovely; we had beautiful views for about three quarters of the trip until we were enveloped in cloud once more.

Half way down the mountain...a glimpse through the clouds.

We had sensibly packed a lot of our own food with us, so purchased a few fresh veges and made do with spaghetti and sauce, Indian red curry and a bean and rice meal which was a huge saving financially….and probably safer on our sensitive Western stomachs than eating the local cuisine (no offense intended of course).

The next morning, we had hoped to be able to go for a hike, or at least have the fog and rain clear so we could see where we were staying! But alas it persisted, so our back-up plan was to go down the mountain (which literally has a completely different climate) and spend the day at the Obudu Water-park. I won’t even try to compare the park to the kind we’re accustomed to back home because it loses it’s appeal, and you won’t be able to appreciate how novel it was to visit, but the two metal waterslides and diving boards kept us entertained for most of the day.

We had hoped to visit the Drill Monkey Ranch (a reserve you can stay at and see the massive Drill Monkeys - a cross between a gorilla and a baboon in my opinion!) but one of the bridges on the road to get there had been washed out due to all the rain the previous few weeks and even if they had fixed it in time it was only accessible by 4WD and only one of our vehicles had that capability, so sadly we had to think of a plan B.  We decided to stay one more day, get out of the rain and do some exploring of the neiboring towns in Obudu region. Our tour guide had suggested a visit to a waterfall a few hours away so with time on our hands we drove the 2 hours through the rural African countryside to a small village called Ikom. Asking various locals for directions periodically, we finally found the waterfall and it was gorgeous. We all jumped out of the cars and began snapping pictures. Suddenly we were surrounded by a large group of Nigerian youths (about 9 males) who were telling us to stop taking photos and step away from the edge. After some tense dialogue, we concluded that they wanted money, that they were ‘responsible’ for the waterfall and hence we had to pay to take pictures and walk down the bottom for a closer look. They demanded an obscene amount per head for the tour, which after phoning our original tour guide for advice we bartered down to a semi-reasonable price, then preceded down a small path to the base of the falls. The whole experience was sadly negatively tainted by the uncomfortable and confrontational nature of the youths and that fact we discovered they’d been taking footage and photos of us with their camera phones. But the falls were still worth the visit, even little Isabelle (9 years old) was enjoying herself before she saw a snake and had a panic attack!

Our last night was spent at another hotel in Obudu, this one claimed to have air conditioning in every room (which we later found only worked when they had strong supply of electricity-very rarely!) and generator all night (again it cut out leaving us sweltering midway through the night), but I don’t think there are any laws in Nigeria that prevent false advertising, or if there are, they’re not enforced! The one upside was a huge TV in the main lounge area, which had music videos blaring (in true Nigerian style), so we could have a dance party as we cooked dinner over the gas cooker. I’m still perfecting my butt shuffle, but the nice hotel manager gave me a few pointers J

We rose early to get a good start on the road the next day and only met 3 sets of ‘nail boys’ on the way (men who stop cars with big planks of wood with nails hammered into them) who attempt to find some problem with your car paperwork or claim you haven’t paid certain state taxes . But again we thankfully managed to escape without too much drama. I think it helped that we had a huge ‘Missionary’ sign painted on the truck we borrowed for the trip!

Little taste of home

Last weekend I had my first weekend out of Jos for some much needed rest and relaxation. After an intense few weeks of ministry, it was perfect timing and the week prior I was literally counting down the days. The journey to Abuja is not a particularly nice one, not just because of the huge stretches of pot-holed road that needs to be navigated and the multiple military check points, but the driving itself requires undivided attention, especially when overtaking enormous 18-wheeler trucks at regular intervals. Once in Abuja, trying to find our way around the unfamiliar city would have made the trip stressful rather than stress relieving, so in light of all these factors, we decided it would be wise to hire a driver for the weekend. Amos, a reliable and lovable SIM driver was only happy to oblige us, as the extra income for his family was always appreciated.

We arrived in Abuja Friday afternoon with minimal dramas along the way, although I did receive one marriage proposal and also an offer of a military escort to Abuja by two separate Police and Army officers. I politely declined both generous offers.  First stop once we arrived was to find espresso coffee (and yes this was my bright idea…much to Fiona’s disgust as she was eager to get into the pool!). We found a supermarket down the road that had a café of sorts at the back and I ordered my first latte in Africa. I’m positive that it would have tasted average when compared to the coffee back home, but in that moment, with only Nescafe with powdered milk as my immediate comparison, it was heaven! We perused the supermarket in search of treats we couldn’t find in Jos and excitedly discovered some cheapish breakfast cereal, tinned tuna and yoghurt (trust me, these staple items made us bizarrely happy!). SIM missionaries are very blessed to have an arrangement with one of the nicer hotels (by Nigerian standards) in Abuja where we get free accommodation during the weekend. Rooms cost about $300 USD a night, so obviously this would be out of the question as an option if the owner didn’t gift it to us. We found our room and realized there was one bed for all 3 of us. Just as well it was a Nigerian king sized bed and all 3 of us girls could quite easily fit on it without touching. Nigerian beds are also incredibly hard so there was no need to worry about ‘roll-together’ either.

Three in the bed and the little one said......

We spent the afternoon by the pool reading and swimming and then went out to dinner at a restaurant, which was recommended to us by a missionary in Jos. I had a Greek Salad, which actually had REAL feta cheese! Another very exciting experience, especially after ordering the same in Jos and getting grated cheddar soaked in mayonnaise! Mmmmm. Even watching cable TV that night back at the hotel room was a novelty, especially when you haven’t watched television for 5 months! The Nigerian soap operas are hilarious!

The next morning we attempted to start our morning early as to make the most of our time only to find that nothing was open until 12pm due to ‘sanitation’!!?? When I asked what they meant by ‘sanitation’ it was explained to me that once a month all retail shops take a morning to do a thorough clean. Who knew! Anyway on our second attempt to start the day we went to a big park in the middle of the city (meticulously manicured and quite beautiful) for a picnic. I found some fresh smoked salmon at one of the many supermarkets we visited and took it to the park and I ate it straight from the packet! Next stop was SilverBird mall (a large Westernised mall) for some window-shopping, another coffee and a movie. Walking out of the movie theatre I almost forgot where I was…..until I saw all the Nigerian youth milling around and looked out the window at the African landscape!  It was a really lovely little getaway and I was surprised at how much I enjoyed such simple everyday pleasures, which I completely take for granted back home. I thought perhaps the little taster of home comforts would make me home-sick and maybe more frustrated with life here and more aware of what I don’t have, but it’s only made me appreciative of the time I have left in Africa.

I got my first flat tyre the other day. It was lucky that I wasn’t in a hurry going anywhere at the time and that it happened when I was parked at the SIM/ECWA headquarters. Even with my confidence that I could change the puncture myself, five Nigerian men came to my rescue and insisted on taking over. Who was I to argue? I thanked them profusely 10 minutes later when my spare was safely in place and I was on my way. Flats happen so frequently here that Nigerians are real pros at changing them and take no time at all. The day after I went to get my puncture mended and stopped at the corner I’d been directed to where a young guy sat with two little boys who I presumed were his apprentices, and watched in amazement as they went about their work as I waited. It took all of 15 minutes before it was fixed and back on my car and cost a total of 300 Naira ($2 NZD) for their service. I felt a bit bad paying that much, but they will definitely have my custom in the future!

A few months ago I was put in touch with a Nigerian dentist called Ambrose who works for an American NGO called ProHealth. He expressed an interest to do some volunteer dentistry for our kids in the ministry. This Saturday we organized a session out at Gyero to assess the kids and do some extractions, filings and cleaning. I have come to the conclusion that dentistry is not for the faint hearted I’ll tell you that much! I thought I’d seen my fair share of gore, blood and guts as an Emergency nurse, but holding a child down while a dentist extracts a tooth was a new experience for me and one even I wouldn’t volunteer for again in a hurry! We saw a number of children and will schedule another clinic day to get through the rest. It really is such a blessing having Ambrose on board because dental is very expensive here, and unfortunately the ministry cannot afford regular check ups which means that I end up taking kids to see the dentist at the hospital when they get infected teeth well beyond saving or oral abscesses. Hardly ideal. 

This won't hurt a bit......!

Anyway, as I write this we are under curfew on the compound due to attacks in outer Jos by Fulani herders on indigene villagers. A Challenge pancake breakfast this morning was a nice start to the day but the disruption to normal routine is frustrating to say the least. Please pray that these tensions resolve and we can have a return to the relative peace Jos has seen for the last few weeks.