Attacked By Thieves - The Rest of the FCV Story
16 February 2010
It was 10:10 pm when I received the call from Mukuka Chilando, the Operations Manager at FCV that the Village had been attacked. The message was short and to the point. “A gang attacked us, several people have been beaten, we think Helen has a broken arm.”
As I pulled on my shoes I called Steve Hafler and asked him if I could borrow his 9mm. There was a sense of urgency, the Village is a one hour drive mostly over treacherous road made even more difficult by the downpour a few hours earlier. Steve hesitated to give me the 9mm because of the trouble that he could have if it was used by someone other than the owner, so he volunteered to come along with the gun.
Here is Steve’s report of what happened next:
10:15PM Tuesday 16 February: I answered the phone and was quickly told about a gang of men who just robbed our
friends at the orphanage and that at least one person sustained injuries. “Can I borrow your gun?” That part is tricky because a gun in Zambia is legally tied to its owner. Big trouble can follow if a firearm is used by someone other than its owner. There was only one easy solution. I go with my gun. So at 10:30PM we were hastily bumping along the potholed roads of Kitwe to Central police to see if we could get an armed escort. I bowed my head and prayed out loud
while Phil kept pressing the accelerator and banking into the roundabouts. The roads were empty, the city quiet, but our
souls were disturbed and we knew it would be a long night and we asked God for wisdom and protection.
Phil and I walked in to the police station where other people were obviously having problems with drunkenness and spousal abuse. There was a man inside arrogantly arguing with police while a lady was hunkered down on the ground outside crying. We entered the dimly lit office to the sounds of weeping and anger. The policeman on duty, who was quite intoxicated, tried to call a patrol unit by radio to help us. No answer. The woman outside was now crying louder as if in great pain. Phil and I looked at each other and knew we were wasting our time. With little said we both ran for the van and took off for the orphanage.
On our way out we made one last stop at the Wusakili police station where we met with a few helpful men with machine guns (police of course). They climbed into the van and without much delay we continued our trip to Kakolo hoping to find the thieves on the way in (now don’t jump to conclusions : ). When your friends are in trouble and you know there are injuries the forty minute ride on difficult muddy roads can seem like a climb up Kilimanjaro. Though the officers in our van were sober they certainly had not abstained that evening as the evidence of their drinking was betrayed by the dank sweet odor filling the cabin. The road seemed to stretch endlessly into the wet Central African night. Little was said between our crew. At times the mud holes were so big that the water completely enveloped the windshield and all we could see was the muddy water illuminated by the halogen lamps on the Toyota Hiace. The small four cylinder groaned as we moved forward, silently and prayerfully, to the scene of the crime.
A few weeks ago the single lady working as the secretary at the college was attacked by a similar gang (maybe the same one who just hit Kakolo). Before she knew it they had broken into a small window and turned the light on in her room. In the middle of the night she had three unwelcome men in her room. Though they were not gentle they certainly were not as evil as they could have been. God’s grace was again evident. We work with great people. They evidence a resolve like steel to remain and continue serving God not in the absence of difficulty, but in the midst of it!
11:20PM Tuesday 16 February: We turned one last bend and finally saw the lights of the orphanage. As we approached the gate the security guard was hesitant. No one blamed him. We drove to the back side of the compound where the thieves made their hit. Phil ran to the first house where three people were the first to be surprised by the five man gang. As Phil checked on the first house I ran into Helen’s house to find her doing much better than expected. I entered her house looking like someone out of a Louis L’amour novel with a handgun in a holster on my right hip. In the first house the men stole money and clothes. They made the two workers lay down on the ground while they advanced on Helen’s house. They broke the lock and forced their entry. When all was said and done Helen lay there in excruciating pain with a broken arm. They kept asking for “dollars!”
End of Steve’s report.....
A gang of five men dressed in black cut the chain-link fence and entered FCV property sometime between 8 and 8:30 pm. Several children who were returning to their house after a prayer meeting with our administrator Joe Mbewe saw people standing in the shadows behind house #4. Five minutes after the children returned to their house five men burst through the door into Joe’s house. They brandished a gun and demanded money. One man with an iron bar began to beat Joe, another kicked him repeatedly when he was on the ground. Terry our maintenance man and his wife (who is 8 months pregnant) were also in the house. The thieves began to beat Terry, he tried to look at them, but they kept forcing his head to the floor. After Joe produced money equivalent to $15 the men grew increasingly agitated. Joe’s older sister, a widow was grabbed and taken to the back room amidst threats and violence. The men grabbed her 12 year old son and began to beat him demanding money from his mother. She gave them what was left of her monthly salary about $50.
The men then turned the gun on Joe and Terry and marched them down to Helen’s house. They made them lie on their face on the ground and said, “If we don’t get into this house we will kill you.” Joe pleaded with the men not to hurt Helen. “Just tell her what you want and she will give it to you,” Joe kept pleading. “We don’t want to beat anyone, we want dollars,” the thieves responded.
After breaking the lock the men entered the house. Helen heard noise and came out of her bedroom. When she saw the men she yelled for them to get out of her house and tried to close her bedroom door, they kicked the door open and began to beat her, the guy with the iron bar broker her arm. They ended up taking less than $10 in US cash - all that Helen had in the house.
It was about 1:30 in the morning when we finally arrived back in Kitwe. We dropped off the four police officers and continued on to a nurse’s house - the same lady who has delivered several of our children here in Kitwe. She quickly dressed Helen’s arm and put it in a fresh splint.
We arrived at home at about 2:30 am. Of course none of us could sleep... we were all too wound up from the events of the evening. Helen did not sleep at all, Tori Barrett came over, I don’t think she slept either.
Helen was admitted to the hospital earlier today and taken to theatre at about 10am. The bones in her arm were reset and she is now sporting a plaster cast. She was discharged this afternoon talking about when she was going to get back to the orphanage. She mentioned to Lori that she would probably have to cancel clinic tomorrow...:) That’s Helen! She will spend the next few days at our house while the swelling goes down in her arm and she begins to feel better.
We truly thank God for his mercy and grace. The situation could have been much worse. We have been reminded once again of the urgent need for the prayers of God’s people.
To quote Steve one more time, “Are we surprised at trials, at the depravity of man, at the spiritual resistance we often face? Are we children somehow taken by surprise that life is not easy - especially as foreigners in a strange country working amidst satanic strongholds? We are not ignorant of Satan’s devices and we know our struggle is with spiritual forces.”
Pray for Joe & Terry. Pray for Adiness and her son Kasonde, and pray for Helen.
Brethren, pray for us.
