I remember one time journeying with my friend Pastor Timothy, going to minister in a remote church.
We were travelling by motorbike (“machines”), and Timothy arrived an hour late to pick me up. He was on foot, having gotten a flat tire on the way. He needed money to fix it, so I handed over some cash and, after the flat was fixed, we set off on a very rough road.
By the time we reached the Donga River the tire was flat again and needed to be re-repaired. Another twenty minutes was spent doing that and we were on our way again. We arrived at the church an hour late – but no worries: they were not even finished their announcements! (Sometimes a long church service can come in handy.)
I preached a sermon on how the Baptist Convention there could be great in God’s eyes (which was a pretty decent sermon as I recall), and afterward while we were hosted by the pastor and his family Timothy arranged to have the tire completely changed.
We finally got away from that little place a little after 3 pm and then, wouldn’t you know it, ten minutes outside of that little place we ran out fuel! I couldn’t believe it, but there you go. TIA.
So I handed my last N150 (a few dollars’ worth) over to Timothy and he gave it to the first guy we saw on a machine heading back the way we had just come. It took a long time for the fellow to come back and Timothy began to get a bit antsy about him absconding with our funds, so he eventually hitched a ride with someone he knew and followed along after him.
Meanwhile, I wanted to walk along in the direction we were travelling but Timothy forbade me because he was worried I might meet up with thieves along the road. So I sat down by the machine and waited it out.
After what seemed like a long time Timothy came along with the original fellow, puts some gas in the tank, and off we go again
At the river I was kibitzing with a fellow on the shore who asked me if I had money. He knew I was a Reverend man, but did not believe me when I told him I had no money. So I asked about the state of the Christian witness in that place that he would call a white pastor a liar. When I told him where all my money had gone he thought that was hilarious and had a good laugh at my expense. I must admit it did sound funny when I told it like that.
Timothy later told me the fellow I had been laughing with was one of the very thieves he had been worried about. Then it was my turn to have a good laugh.