The Unseen Life, Part 6

​At around 3.00 pm, three months after we moved into the town, sounds of grenades exploding and gunshots pierced the air, creating panic among our neighbours. I ran upstairs and caught a glimpse of two groups of men chasing one another through the fields, directly across from our home, some 80 metres away. The last time the fighting occurred, it spilt over into the town. Our neighbours were frantically packing, and by nightfall, all of them had evacuated to another town, several miles away. When Psalm 91 and Hebrews 13:5-6 came to mind, we decided to stay put, despite the local headman’s plea for us to leave. All that were left in our corner of town, over the week, were a few elderly men and ourselves. Remaining behind, however, provided us an opening to talk about matters of our faith and the peace we possess during those tumultuous days. Unknown to us, till long after these events, a carpenter, who was also a medium, whom I had earlier treated for an open wound, living a few doors away from us, would stop by our home between 12.00 am and 1.00 am every night, to check on our safety. The carpenter was not a man of many words, but he became one of our trusted friends in the community in the years to come. We were thankful for God’s oversight, and this neighbor’s care and concern during those days. 

Living in an unstable third world environment, the peace and order situation was constantly at the back of our minds. Our home, on the outer perimeter of the town, was built from single ply wooden planks, with coconut leaves as roofing, and certainly no protection against gunfire. The front door could be dismantled by a mere forceful kick. We each had prepared an emergency evacuation backpack, and just in case we were separated in a crisis, contact details were regularly updated. During more peaceful times, with the assistance of a reliable local individual, I took the opportunity to survey and map the town, discovering the available exit routes and their forward destinations; the locations of schools, the clinic, and hospital, including the safe houses of likely neutral individuals, like the community’s religious leaders, medical personnel, and teachers. This was in the days where mobile communication devices and GPS capability for the consumer were non-existent. Realistically, our lives were invariably in God’s hands.
 
It was just past midday, and we were travelling back from the city to our town in a minibus. It was packed inside, shoulder-to-shoulder, mainly women and children, with the men folks perched on the roof and young men precariously clinging to the vehicle’s back. I was sitting on the back seat next to the door, with my wife to my left. Along the national highway, our transport stopped, as a group of exhausted military recruits on a route march drag themselves across the road in front of us. It was a warm day, and most of us in the vehicle were dozing off. At some point, I opened my eyes and looked back. To my horror, another minibus, equally crammed with passengers, was hurling straight for us. It was too late to do anything. As it drew nearer, I could see through the vehicle’s windscreen that the driver was asleep. With over 30 passengers in our vehicle, not counting those in the runaway transport, the casualty numbers would potentially be much higher and the types of injuries more serious. It was impossible for the other driver to have manipulated his steering wheel, so close to ours, to avoid a disastrous collision. A quick prayer sent, I waited for the inevitable impact. Just inches between the two transport, the oncoming minibus miraculously veered away; as though Someone had instantaneously shoved it sideways. It crossed into the opposing lane and ploughed through the straggling line of soldiers. Immediately, gunfire filled the air as the enraged recruits, those who were still standing, took aim at the runaway vehicle. It came to a screeching halt 60 metres ahead. Passengers scattered as the shooting persisted. Several ladies in our vehicle were hysterical. Eventually, we were given permission to proceed on. Thankful for God’s timely intervention and deliverance would be an understatement. Our hearts, however, were heavy with thoughts of the numerous casualties that afternoon. 
 
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, My God, in whom I trust!”