As soon as I arrived at Lusaka airport I knew I was in for a different kind of African experience. For a start, there were only two planes at the airport and there were hardly any cars on the road. After Lagos and Accra though, I was craving a bit of space so this was great news! Another difference was that it rained every day, compared to West Africa where it didn’t rain at all.
In Lusaka I spent time with a guy called Daliso, his wife Isabel and their newborn son, Daliso Jnr. Daliso runs a football academy with two youth teams in it, and Isabel looks after the family while also running a small business, selling scones. The place they live in is something else. They live on the same block as their landlord’s family and one other man. On that block of land they all share a “toilet” (a little outhouse containing a hole in the ground), a “bathroom” (four wooden posts outside with heschen draped around them) and one tap for water. It is really difficult to comprehend. What makes it even more difficult is that once again it broke through my pre-existing categories of life
in Africa - alongside the lack of basic necessities at Daliso’s house was a TV, a DVD player and mobile phones. It’s not a primitive existence, it’s just that whatever else they may have, they also lack the basics - water, electricity, food.
Two characteristics that stood out in the people I met were their deference and their hospitality. In Lagos and Accra everyone was pretty much in my face and would talk about anything, anytime. In Lusaka people generally kept to themselves and when introduced would do a little bow, keep their eyes down and not say much. The young boys I met were particularly shy. When it came to interviewing them for the film, it was quite a challenge to get them to talk freely; especially so because I didn’t have a cameraman in Zambia and so was asking them to talk to me without looking at me (because I was behind the camera). I was blown away by their hospitality though. I stayed at Daliso’s mum’s house for the week, where it was me in one room and five of them in the other room. At meals too I would be offered whatever meat there was,
while the rest of them ate whatever combination of maize/rice/beans/cabbage was available. Don’t get me wrong, I ate a whole lot of maize and rice too, but they insisted that I ate the best food even when I protested or said I was full.
I spent a fair bit of time with Daliso and his academy teams over the week. It was great watching them play and train and I had fun running some coaching sessions with them too. All of the boys are really skilful and super-committed to football! Some of them come from really difficult backgrounds - quite a few of the under-17 boys can’t afford to go to school anymore (it costs around US$100 for the year) and many of them have lost family members. Given these challenges it is great to see how Daliso and the other coach, Langson, are building a sense of family and commitment in the academy teams. I was also really privileged to spend time with the under-12’s, who showed me how to make a soccer ball out of discarded heschen and plastic bags, which they do when there are no real soccer balls available. As a group they slowly got
used to me and it was awesome to see them laughing and smiling. Again, the more I became aware of their needs the more helpless I felt to do anything about them, but I appreciated being able to share little moments of joy.
All in all, I struggled in Lusaka. I struggled with the conditions, I struggled being on show wherever I went, I struggled not seeing any other white person all week, I struggled with the lack of personal space, I struggled waiting around all the time because of “African time”, I struggled trying to understand a very different culture, and I struggled seeing the conditions people live in. Most of all, I struggled being alone in a strange place and not being able to share my experiences with anyone who would understand me. It was a massive emotional rollercoaster of a week. I tried to change my flights to leave earlier but couldn’t. At the time this news was a devastating blow and all week I bounced from strength to despair and back again. I was so far bunkered down, emotionally and physically, at times I could barely bring myself to talk, let alone smile or laugh.
In the end though, there were moments of light amongst the darkness. I was given an African name - Mulenga - which apparently means "creator" in the Bemba language. A teenage girl gave it to me after watching me play soccer because apparently I created a lot of goals. Hey look, for all I know it could mean "crazy white man" and she gave it to me because I looked stupid out on the field, but I'm gonna choose to believe her! I also appreciated being able to play with the kids, particularly when they actually felt comfortable around me and would talk to me. As well as those things, I also realised some pretty significant things while I was there. Firstly, I love my family and friends and I miss them when I'm away. For the first time ever when travelling I really wanted to be home again - even to the point of looking at photos every night just to cope! Secondly, God is seriously amazing. On my last night in Lusaka one of Daliso's friends prayed for me and then spoke prophetically (i.e. from God) to me. The stuff he said was amazing and through him God confirmed a whole bunch of stuff to me about my life and where I am headed. As soon as he started speaking I burst into tears. God didn't have to do that - he could've just let me struggle and then learn through that struggle - but he chose to use a guy I'd never met to speak so intimately into my life that there was no room for doubting that this was a God-thing. It didn't make everything okay and I still couldn't wait to get out of there, but it reminded of the most important thing: God cares. Ultimately not just about me, but in that moment in Zambia he chose to demonstrate that truth in my life and I am so grateful for it.
Zambia's Flag
Map of Zambia