I have been Mary’s constant companion since I got here. She is a good woman who runs a hospital with very little capital. She has a hired driver she takes around in an old banged up car that constantly smells of gasoline. She is jolly and very giving. She loves people but does not tolerate any nonsense. And she wouldn’t mind me saying so. I have no idea how lackadaisical Nigeria produced such a hardworking woman. She is all justice, social equity to all and fears no one. We spent our time in the village and then three guys and I traveled up to Kaduna, where I will be staying for a while before going back to the village. A two hour drive took close to 4 hours, because we stopped here and there along the road when the guys saw something they wanted to see or someone they wanted to visit. We drove in a sleek car that was in perfect condition with tinted windows and air conditioning and leather seats. The armed men on the road saluted us as we gave them a rolling stop. I figured out who the other guys were along the way. There is Father Vincent. There was the driver, of course. And the driver is of the lowest class. He does not eat at the same table as the rest of us. There was the “borrowed” pastoral assistant, who helped Father Vincent with his business. He answered the phones, his and the father’s phone and spoke for him to the armed guards when we drove up the mayor’s house for an evening meeting. Hmmm...
Here are some men selling fish and a local animal for meat: bush meat. Perhaps it is a mongoose.
Here are kids swinging on a tree. The two brave ones stayed. The girls ran off, collected their brothers and came back to see this ghostly white woman.
This poor child was too small to run fast like the others so she was reduced to screaming in terror at the edge of the field.
This is a typical image of Mary at her desk pouring over numbers with her accountant.
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