Over the 4th of July weekend while my family was celebrating with fireworks and parties, I was on an preaching adventure to Gombe State. In my last post I shared how wonderful the big big man was to me when I traveled to his home region. Now I want to share of my other adventures.
After settling into my hotel and eating lunch my former student returned to pick me up and take me on a tour of his town. He arrived on his small motorcycle and off we putted. The bike didn't have much power and my friend seemed particularly timid in driving it. Maybe he was being extra cautious with me as a passenger???
Following our 30-minute driving tour we stopped by this house and church so I could get the lay of the land for tomorrow's preaching and meet his family. They are lovely. His wife was quite busy, she owns and runs the only grinding machine in the area so all the women come to her to have their beans ground into meal/porridge. This little cottage industry helps the family since they are paid with a small portion of the grinding.
While we were visiting the machine stopped working and my friend and his wife tinkered with this and that and got it started again. After another few minutes it stopped again. The diagnosed problem was the sparkplug. My friend disappeared and then reappeared with a new one and it was up and running in no time!
Time came for me to leave for my hotel, and as we climbed on the motorcycle my friend said we will stop to get a new spark plug in town? I was confused. It took numerous cranks to get the bike started, when I realized that he had swapped out his bike's sparkplug and put it in the grinding machine… putting the faulty one in the bike!
Well we had quite a ride, the bike even had less power than before. The slightest "hill" or any slowing for any turn caused the bike to severely sputter. As we entered the main round-about of town -a traffic circle which in the US might be two lanes wide but had 3-4 lanes zipping around it in Gombe, the bike died! Right there in the middle of the circle! YIKES. After 3-4 cranks and cars whizzing past so close that my pant legs waved in their breeze it was clear that it was not starting. Being the only white person I had scene I took full advantage of my uniqueness -people staring at me as they passed- and I stepped out into the traffic and acted as a "stop sign" so we could get out of the circle!
My friend proceeded to shake his bike discovering that not only did he have a bum sparkplug but he was out of gas!!! Pushing the pike a couple hundred feet he bought a liter of gas and maybe 15 cranks later we were riding again… but not far. Around the next bend in the very busy road we stalled out again. Being in a blind spot in the road due to the curve we popped the bike onto the sidewalk where a kind Samaritan stopped to help. He removed the sparkplug and tried to clean it. I don't think it worked because after 15 or so minutes and a few Naira as a thank you we were pushing it again… to where I have no idea?
Refusing to give up my friend stopped after 10 minutes of pushing and on the 3rd crank it roared to life (only kidding it sputtered to life). Eventually we needed to make a left and sure as shooting as he pulled back on the accelerator with two lanes of cars driving right at us it stalled once again… by God grace we coasted through to the other side of the intersection. However a car, following us in the turn came within millimeters of hitting us as he swerved to get past us and out of the oncoming lanes. I know my pant legs brushed the car as it avoided us.
Un daunted, my friend cranked the bike again and after less than a handful of cranks we putted off to the home of a missionary friend he wanted me to meet. (Not bad it only took 80 minutes for a 10-minute drive!)
Jay the missionary drove me to my hotel (thank you Lord) and took my friend home. The bike will be fixed another day. And the best news, Jay offered to pick me up in the morning and drive me to the church…
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