The Limbe House: An African Dream

By Gene Meacham

The Montgomery family, David, Katherine, and their three daughters, Brittany, Alicia, and Megan, ages six, four, and two, arrive in Malawi as first-term missionaries with the keen anticipation of learning the language and beginning a fruitful ministrya long-awaited African dream. Instead, the unexplained absence of a work permit changes their lives dramatically. Just when they have found a wonderful home in the Limbe House, they are forced to leave two days before Christmas, with no expectation of returning. Traveling a thousand miles by car to Kenya, they settle temporarily in The Cave, where homeschooling and learning a new language fill their time.

There are blessings and challenges in their new location, and what seems to be angelic intervention in a time of danger, before circumstances require them to return briefly to Malawi.

Will the work permit come in time for them to stay in the Limbe House, or will they be forced to pack all their belongings and transfer to a new country?

When it seems that all dreams have been shattered, a shocking, last-minute answer to prayer changes dreams to reality.

The Montgomerys struggle to realize their African dream reveals how Gods providence leads his people, particularly those called into vocational missions. Dr. Meachams picturesque writing style literally transports readers into the drama of his familys African adventure. Readers will be both inspired and informed by this remarkable story.

Dr. Fred E. Meeks, Director, Logsdon Seminary Lubbock Program Emeritus Professor of Religion, Wayland Baptist University

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781512700183

Gene Meacham

Gene Meacham served as a missionary in Africa for ten years. He has been a pastor and director of missions and an adjunct instructor in missions for Wayland Baptist University and Logsdon Theological Seminary. He now lives in Plainview, Texas, with his wife, Lavonne, where he enjoys teaching, writing, and keeping up with seven grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2015 Gene Meacham.

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Unless otherwise indicated all Scripture is taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.

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HE LIVES by A.H. Ackley, © 1933 Word Music, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.

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ISBN: 978-1-5127-0017-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-0018-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015916783

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/06/2015

Contents

Preface

Foreword

Chapter 1: Gateway- Nairobi

Chapter 2: The Game Park

Chapter 3: The Warm Heart Of Africa

Chapter 4: The First Day

Chapter 5: Visit to the Village

Chapter 6: Mzuzu

Chapter 7: The Road Grader

Chapter 8: Two Birthdays

Chapter 9: A Visit To Rhodesia

Chapter 10: Mission Meeting

Chapter 11: A House in Limbe

Chapter 12: Frisky and Mittens

Chapter 13: Trip to Zambia

Chapter 14: Luangwa Game Park

Chapter 15: Lundazi

Chapter 16: Salima

Chapter 17: Snakes, Birds, and Bees

Chapter 18: Pre-Post-and-Ah

Chapter 19: Two Christmases

Chapter 20: Leaving Malawi

Chapter 21: Mikumi

Chapter 22: Kilimanjaro

Chapter 23: Language Study Again

Chapter 24: Brackenhurst Days

Chapter 25: The Ark

Chapter 26: Life In The Cave

Chapter 27: Mombasa

Chapter 28: Going Home

Chapter 29: Serenje – The Longest Day

Chapter 30: The Bridge

Chapter 31: Malaria!

Chapter 32: Work Permit

Chapter 33: The Blantyre Church

To Lavonne,

my dearly beloved wife

and companion for

fifty years,

whose

"partnership in the gospel from the

first day until now" has been

a wonderful blessing from the Lord.

Preface

Limbe (Lim′ be) is the twin city to Blantyre in Malawi, East Africa. The two cities are joined by a mile long stretch of divided roadway spanned at its midpoint by the impressive Independence Arch, celebrating Malawi’s independence from Great Britain in 1964.

My family and I arrived in Malawi in February 1975, eager to begin our missionary career and fulfill a lifelong dream. Little did we anticipate the tumultuous events that would shape our lives over the next eighteen months. Before that period was over we had visited four other countries besides Malawi and lived briefly in one.

I must acknowledge here the patient endurance and quiet faith of my wife and the extreme adaptability of my three young daughters. Without them this odyssey of searching for God’s perfect will and place of service for our family would have been too difficult to imagine. This is a true story—my family’s story. I have used pseudonyms for all the characters though they are indeed very real.

It must be said at the very beginning—though it will be revealed again and again throughout the book—how deeply indebted I am to all the missionaries of Malawi and the many others we met along the way who prayed for us and offered counsel, comfort, and hospitality. Some of these co-laborers have already passed on. Like me, the others have retired from active missionary service.

Two of my daughters, Sharon Race and Lori Satterwhite, now grown with families and careers of their own, are English teachers—one in college, the other in high school. They lived the story and thus were well able to offer their expertise in editing the manuscript and have literally rewritten parts of my rough efforts. The third daughter, Cheryl Shaffer, is an elementary teacher, certified in reading and math intervention. She, being the youngest, was perhaps the most African after spending ten years of her life there, and has been the source of much needed encouragement and advice.

I am indebted especially to my wife, Lavonne, who proofread the manuscript repeatedly, correcting, adding, subtracting, and otherwise improving the whole.

Dr. Fred Meeks, former Dean of the School of Religion and Philosophy at Wayland Baptist University and presently Director of the Lubbock campus for Hardin Simmons University, and Dr. Richard Shaw, Assistant Professor of Religion and Mission at Wayland Baptist University and Director of the Wayland Mission Center and the Kenya Program, have both read the manuscript and offered their valuable insights. Dr. Shaw graciously consented to write the Foreword.

To me, the calling from God to be a missionary and the privilege of serving Him in that capacity have been life’s greatest joys. My joy would not have been complete, however, had I not been able to share it with my wonderful family. I can only thank Him for allowing me that blessing. As these pages will reveal, He really had His hands full shaping, correcting, and guiding this servant in preparation for usefulness in His service.

There is more to the story—The Mzuzu House: An African Adventure and The Umtata House: An African Dream Fulfilled. Lord willing, they will follow sometime in the near future.

Foreword

Gene Meacham, in his second mission travelogue, The Limbe House, recounts in an autobiographical presentation, the pilgrimage of David and Katherine Montgomery, as they travel from west Texas to the myriad places of sub-Saharan Africa, particularly Malawi. But the travelogue is much more than a jaunt through mission tourism. Meacham, in masterful prose that lends itself often to poetry, explores his own spiritual journey through the lens of his protagonist, as the missioner traverses places that many in the Kingdom enterprise often find themselves. At times full of delight, at moments pensive in reflection, at periods deep in intense prayer and introspection. Meacham is a missionary at heart, having served in two countries in Africa with the Foreign Mission Board (now International Mission Board) of the Southern Baptist Convention, with his wife Lavonne, and his daughters Sharon, Lori, and Cheryl (Katherine, Brittany, Alicia, and Megan in the story). Even upon his return to the US, Meacham remained (and indeed, continues to remain) a missionary in the sense described by Jesus in Matthew 10, 25, and 28.

My association with this outstanding man of God was launched when I began considering my current position at Wayland Baptist University in Plainview, Texas. Dr. Gene Meacham served on the search committee that brought me to west Texas. I learned much (and continue to learn much) from this mentor and friend, as he served for several years as the Director of Missions of the Caprock Plains Baptist Area, headquartered in Plainview. Having worked alongside Gene in the collaborative missional endeavors of the Wayland Mission Center and the CPBA, I caught a bit of the passion with which the writer of The Limbe House has penned this moving, not-to-be-put-down read.

Those who are engaged in Christian mission should consider not only the travelogue of the narrative, but more significantly the journey on which Meacham takes his reader. Very little effort will be required in that the author will draw the reader into the world of the mission of Jesus Christ, and how this unfolds not only in the people and places of Africa, but also in the hearts and minds and souls of people deeply loved by God. Yes, the ones who hear of God’s love, but also the ones who proclaim it. Meacham is careful to both develop protagonist David’s character through external events and internal musings, and also to punctuate the narrative with at times befuddling and aggravating, at times amusing and hilarious escapades that are part and parcel of every apostolic servant’s story.

But Meacham’s work is more than episodic. Like Ruth Tucker’s From Jerusalem to Irian Jaya, its style is earthy and poignant. The author’s focus is not singly upon the transformation of the missionary, but also upon the interface of the missionary with the people of Africa. Interwoven within the narrative—at times almost clandestinely—are the sound missiological principles which clearly guide Meacham’s mission practice and teaching. Notwithstanding, The Limbe House is not an academic, heady tome. It is down to earth, authentic, gripping, and real.

While narrative is central, context is significant. Meacham’s purpose is to tell his own family’s story and through that story to explore the reality of Christian mission. God’s love for all people expressed fully through Jesus Christ is visible on every page. But God’s magnificent creation of Africa (the context!) at moments comes to the foreground. The beauty of place, the complexity and variety of African animals, the simplicity of African village life, and the cultural trappings of the sub-Sahara are brilliantly portrayed for the reader to relish.

As readers travel through this book, they will be surprised to find themselves on many a page. Awed by the power of God, Meacham’s followers will delight, reflect, thank and praise the Lord for those who follow the divine call to apostolic mission. They will, as readers of Dame Rebecca West’s Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, enjoy the ride, but also find they have been changed on the journey. As a veteran missionary to Africa once told me prior to my first trip to Kenya, Africa gets in your blood. Indeed, Meacham’s The Limbe House will situate this stunning continent and her cultures in the blood of every reader.

Richard W. Rick Shaw, Ph.D.

Assistant Professor of Religion and Mission

Director of Wayland Mission Center and Kenya Program

Wayland Baptist University

Plainview, Texas

Chapter One

Gateway- Nairobi

Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God. 1 Corinthians 1:1 NIV

F ar below, the deep, blue waters of the Mediterranean began to recede into the background, and the contrasting sand tones of the Egyptian Sahara spread from horizon to horizon. The Olympic Airways jet that had taken off from Athens only an hour earlier was on its way across half of Africa to its destination in Nairobi, gateway to the whole of Eastern and Southern Africa.

Alicia Montgomery stood in the narrow aisle between the seats of the plane and peered out the oval window at the earth, now more than five miles below. That she was so high in the sky did not seem to matter in the least to Alicia. At four years of age, her world revolved around her parents, David and Katherine Montgomery, and her two sisters, Brittany and Megan. Brittany was two years older and Megan two years younger. All Alicia knew about Africa was that it was a far away place and that she and her sisters and mother and father were going there to be missionaries.

At five feet nine inches tall, and one hundred sixty pounds David Montgomery was not a big man, but he had an athletic build. His somewhat unruly brown hair included a rooster’s tail that nearly always stuck straight up in the back. Katherine was a pretty brunette with a trim figure and a patient, gentle nature. Almost as tall as her husband, she possessed a quick smile and a strong determination. This morning David was feeling somewhat self-assured. Already he had shepherded his little flock aboard five flights and through three countries since they had left their home in west Texas only two days earlier.

We’re veteran travelers already, he thought to himself. So far we have handled things pretty well. Had he been able to foresee the events that the next three and a half years held in store for them, he might well have said, Stop the plane! I want to get off. But for now he was at peace with himself. This was the fulfillment of a dream that had been in his heart for more than eighteen years, his African Dream. Still vivid in his memory was that scene in the little church of his hometown on the next to the last night of a revival service. There had been a tugging at his heart as he felt God saying to him, I want you to be my missionary to Africa. Heart pounding and tears coursing down his cheeks, he had walked confidently to the front of the church to take the pastor’s hand and tell him, God is calling me to be a missionary.

David could still remember the look of radiance on his mother’s face as she stood beside her fourteen-year-old son and whispered, I’m so proud of you. Your father and I will always be there to support you and pray for you.

Now he had embraced his mother and shook hands with his father for the last time for the next four years, and possibly forever. But he knew their promise of prayer support would always be there.

Katherine Montgomery interrupted her husband’s reflection by placing a hand on his. What are you thinking? she asked, her blue eyes looking deep into his.

David fibbed a little: I was just wondering what it will really be like to be in Africa. What will our first impressions be?

I know, Katherine agreed. I’ve been wondering that too. It hardly seems possible that we are almost there.

Daddy, do we get to our home in Africa today? Alicia asked again, for at least the fourteenth time.

We will get to Africa, explained her father, patiently, but we won’t quite be home yet. We still have to take one more plane ride on to our country. First we will spend two nights in Nairobi.

I’ll be glad when we get to our real home. Alicia sounded disappointed. I’m tired of having to be on airplanes all the time.

I’m tired too, Alicia. Katherine reached out and pulled her middle daughter close to her for a quick hug. But it won’t be long now.

Look, Katherine, David called to her, pointing out the window. We are really getting over Africa now. See the green grass and trees and rivers. David had a keen sense of anticipation about the Africa of his childhood dreams, the vast open savannahs where elephant, zebra, buffalo, and giraffe roamed free, and tawny-maned lions lurked in the tall grass. Stories of the jungle and books about Africa had stirred his imagination and fueled a desire to see far away and exotic places. He still marveled at God’s wonderful ways in allowing them to come to a place they had loved from afar to tell others about God’s love and His great gift of a Savior to the world.

David looked at his wife for a moment, a mixture of love and gratitude swelling in his heart. He knew that God had provided just the right companion for this great African adventure. She was the mother of his three beautiful daughters and a nurse as well. She had earned her Bachelor of Science Degree in Nursing from Baylor University and was an RN. For a time, before the children were born, she had taught nursing at a vocational school for student nurses. Now she was on her way to putting both her faith and her practical knowledge to the test.

David knew that Katherine shared his sense of calling to missions. She had shared that knowledge with him when they had just begun dating one another. Katherine had felt God’s call to be a missionary nurse to South America, but after her marriage to David, and with much prayer, she had been perfectly at peace about going to Africa instead.

David’s appreciative glance moved to his oldest daughter, six-year-old Brittany. Brittany had long blonde hair that hung straight down to the middle of her back, unless of course her mother had put it up into dog ears or a pony tail. Brittany had already started to school. She had attended half a year of first grade during missionary orientation and then had enrolled for a short time in another school before her parents were ready to leave for Africa. Already she was a good reader and made straight A’s in school.

Megan was just barely two and somewhat unsure of all the changes that had come into her family. Snatched from the secure environment of a warm, country parsonage, with an ever-present mother, she had to go to day care all day during the long missionary orientation. Frequent illnesses had eroded her sense of well-being, and she had found some solace in sucking two fingers at a time. It did not matter which two or which hand.

Alicia, at four years of age, was the ever-active one of the three. She woke up every morning bright and bouncy with enthusiasm. She seldom complained about anything but took things as they came with good-natured amiability. She loved to sing and knew by heart all the little choruses she had been taught at play school or by her mother. She had beautiful, long, brown hair.

Just then the captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker. He spoke in a language David could not understand—he assumed it was Greek—and then in English. They would soon be landing at Nairobi. He invited the passengers to look out the windows on the left side of the plane to see snow-capped Mt. Kenya, and then he informed them they had just crossed the equator. David thought it was strange to see snow almost on top of the equator. In a moment the flight attendant came down the aisle and handed the children a special card declaring that they were now members of the Equator Club, meaning that they had flown over the equator.

Excitement mounted steadily in David’s heart as the thought of standing soon on African soil impressed itself deeply in his thoughts. All the mystery and intrigue he had absorbed from reading about this ancient and intriguing land came flooding back. Just as suddenly, Katherine brought him back to the present with her call for assistance to gather the girls’ things. With carry-on luggage for five people, the Montgomerys had a mountain of bags and baggage and it was difficult to keep up with it all—and even more difficult to maneuver down the narrow aisle with three children in tow, while hanging on to luggage, camera case, and diaper bag. Besides that, there were stuffed animals and dolls to keep track of. Fortunately, David had anticipated their final destination being in the very hot climate of Nairobi, rather than the sub-zero weather of west Texas the day of their departure. He had suggested they pack their coats so they would not have to carry them. Once inside the first airport they were not outdoors again until they changed planes in sunny Rome.

The plane landed smoothly and taxied to a stop some distance from the airport terminal buildings. David was already familiar with the fact that in places other than America planes did not park next to the terminal. There were no convenient passenger corridors leading straight from the plane into the buildings. They would have to get off some distance away and ride a standing-room-only bus the short distance to the terminal.

In a moment they were spilling out into the hot African sunshine. Down the steps of the ramp they went until they were able to stand on the tarmac. David breathed deeply of the moisture-laden air. It wasn’t quite the same as standing on actual soil, but it was close enough. Overhead the bright African sky was a deep cerulean blue with a scattering of puffy, white cumulous clouds that suggested the possibility of evening storms. David felt as though he had just awakened from a long peaceful sleep to find that his dream had come true.

There was little time for sightseeing, however. They were being swept along with the crowd to board the hot, crowded bus. The routine of the immigration was now familiar to David. Katherine kept the children and watched their things while David took all five passports and proceeded through the line. Formalities completed, they continued on their way toward the luggage claim area. Suddenly a voice called out and the familiar figure of Dr. Jim Sloan appeared, waving a hand from behind a waiting crowd. Dr. Sloan was area supervisor for this part of Africa. The Montgomerys had first met him at missionary orientation. He had agreed to meet them in Nairobi and help them with their first stopover in Africa. The Sloans had lived and worked for fourteen years in this part of Africa.

It was necessary to leave part of the luggage at the airport because there was not room for six people plus all their suitcases in Dr. Sloan’s little car. It was just as well; they would be leaving again in two days and had plenty of clothes in their carry-on bags. In a few moments they were all squeezed into the small sedan with the steering wheel on the right instead of the left. David remembered that in much of Eastern and Southern Africa, wherever British influence prevailed, driving was always on the left side of the road.

Immediately, as they drove off, David’s mind was filled with questions as he watched the African scenery flash by.

What is the speed limit here? he asked Dr. Sloan. It seemed that they were zipping in and out of traffic at a frightening rate of speed, perilously close to other vehicles, all of which were traveling at the same breakneck speed.

There is none, Dr. Sloan explained. It’s something like every man for himself.

On either side of the road numerous pedestrians and bicyclists clung precariously to the edge of the tarmac, oblivious to the danger of speeding cars rushing past them mere inches away. Soon they came to a curious place—it looked like a traffic circle, but Dr. Sloan called it a round-about. Several roads all converged in a great circle. There were no traffic lights; cars and trucks and bicycles just merged into the circle and went around in double lanes until they came to the street where they wanted to exit. It looked confusing and dangerous to David, but Dr. Sloan handled it with dexterity.

Gradually David’s concern about traffic diminished, and he began to observe other sights and sounds. Tall, tall trees grew along the roadside, straight as an arrow with smooth trunks and no branches until high up near the top. Dr. Sloan said they were blue gum trees of the eucalyptus family, and they had a special characteristic. If you cut a blue gum tree down, it will regrow itself very quickly just as tall as before. They are extremely useful here for firewood and for poles which the African people use to build their houses.

Alicia was watching intently, sitting by the window with her head as far out into the breeze of the open window as she could manage. She took in as much as her eyes could see. Crowds of people streamed along the sidewalks. The women and young girls were dressed in long, colorful fabric. Many of them had securely tied a baby onto their backs and carried parcels on their heads, perfectly balanced.

Mommy, all the people are black! Alicia suddenly exclaimed. Nobody has skin like me.

She turned to pull at Katherine’s sleeve and direct her attention to where she was pointing. See that little girl is just my size, and she has a Coke bottle standing on her head!

Sure enough, a girl who appeared to be only four or five years old was walking beside her mother, and on her head, perfectly balanced, was a full bottle of Coca Cola. Isn’t that funny? asked Alicia. How does she do that?

I don’t know, Katherine answered. I’m sure I couldn’t.

Look at the beautiful trees, Brittany suddenly spoke up.

Flamboyant trees, Dr. Sloan explained, sometimes called ‘Flame Trees’ because of their brilliant flame colored blossoms. Africa is fortunate to have many colorful trees and flowers, but those are my favorite.

Along both sides of the roadway many different colors of bougainvillea grew in profusion. Besides that, there were palm trees, elephant ear, and a variety of others that David could not yet identify.

Tomorrow we will go out to the Nairobi Game Park, said Dr. Sloan, and you can get your first look at real African wildlife.

That would be great! David exclaimed. I can hardly wait to see some of the animals. David’s love for wildlife had gone hand in hand with his interest in becoming a missionary to Africa. He had no desire to hunt the animals except with a camera.

Dr. Sloan’s wife, Betty, greeted them warmly at the door of her house and ushered them into a spacious and comfortable home. The walls were gleaming white plaster and the floors a rich, dark wood. African artwork and crafts adorned the walls of the living room. But at the moment David was attracted by the tantalizing aroma of something cooking in the kitchen. He was reminded that they had not eaten in many hours.

This is Patience, Betty said as she introduced a middle-aged African woman to them. She had just come from the kitchen and was wiping her hands nervously on her apron. She is of the Kikuyu tribe, Betty explained, and does not speak English.

"Jambo, said David. He remembered enough to say hello" in Swahili.

"Jambo," Patience responded, breaking into a broad smile and curtseying slightly.

Come, I will show you to your rooms. Betty motioned for them to follow down a long hallway to two bright and airy bedrooms. The sunshine seemed to spill into every corner of the home. It made one feel that he was a part of the great African outdoors even while inside.

As soon as he had time to freshen up, David rejoined Dr. Sloan in the comfortable living room while they waited for Katherine and the girls. I noticed that you have such a beautifully landscaped yard, David observed.

We employ a half-time gardener, Dr. Sloan replied. He is marvelous. He can make anything grow. It is the only way, of course, that we could ever manage to have such a nice garden. Our work keeps us so busy that neither Betty nor I have the time it would require to care for all the plants and the grass. Years ago wages were such that every missionary had a full-time gardener and house helper. Nowadays we can only afford half-time help, and even that is getting difficult.

You call your yard a ‘garden’? David asked.

Yes, that is just another of the many British expressions that we have acquired since being in East Africa. Kenya, as you know, was once a British Protectorate, and the British influence is still strongly felt here.

Dinner is served, Betty called just as Katherine and the girls made their appearance, hair all freshly combed and clean dresses on. David was not only hungry, he was eager to see how missionaries fared with their meals in Africa. Their main dish was lamb, much different from the beef that most Texans ate, but it was surprisingly tender and tasty. A kind of squash that the Montgomerys had never seen served as a side dish. Betty showed them how to mash it with butter and add salt. It was delicious and the girls loved it immediately.

Everything we eat here in the way of fruits and vegetables is fresh from the market, explained Betty. That is why it is so necessary to have house help. I must go to the market three or four times a week to buy what we need. And, of course, it takes longer to prepare.

But everything is so delicious, Katherine exclaimed, so much better than our usual canned vegetables and fruit at home.

David was pleased to find that they even had iced tea to drink. He thought that the British dislike of cold tea might have kept them from serving it, and said as much to his hosts. Dr. Sloan explained that most missionaries continued to enjoy their iced tea. In the hot climate of Africa it was particularly refreshing. There were, in fact, large tea fields near Nairobi. They are a beautiful, emerald green, he added. Sometime you must go and see them. Coffee also grows in the higher regions around Brackenhurst where our Baptist Assembly is located. Both coffee and tea are export items for Kenya.

For dessert they had a delicious lemon meringue pie. Betty showed them the lemon tree in their back yard where she had just gathered the lemons that afternoon.

After dinner the adults relaxed with freshly brewed Kenyan grown coffee in the living room while the girls brought out their dolls to play quietly. Then it was off to an early bedtime; tomorrow they would visit the game park. David went to sleep that night with a deep sense of peace. Finally he was in Africa. An African dream was becoming more than just a dream.

Chapter Two

The Game Park

The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion