Elizabeth

My dear friend Elizabeth was baptized in January. She was introduced to the Church by her neighbor and friend. At first her husband didn’t want anything to do with the church or that terrible book and forbid her to bring the Book of Mormon into the house. However the missionaries persisted and he watched them closely and decided they were good men. When we came to his house to give Elizabeth a Blessing he was impressed. No other churches had come to his humble home. So he began to read and pray. He was baptized the following month. They have two sweet girls: Mercy and Hope.

It was neat to see the family come to church together. They struggled. George had been a successful businessman for about 14 years, but then illness took the capital of the business. Still George took the Employment Workshop and Elizabeth started to find success making baskets. I bought one two and they are lovely.

Then in April, Elizabeth fell sick again. She went to the hospital several times, then to a private clinic for nearly a week. She seemed to improve and went home. A few days later, she was back in the public hospital. Tom and I went to see her. In these hospitals, there is a distinction between care and medications. The hospital provides the care, but you are expected to go and purchase many of the medications. Tests also often need to be paid for in advance. It’s a little difficult when there no steady employment and sometimes it’s hard to find enough to eat. How to pay? Borrow or find someone to give. Although Elizabeth was very weak, she seemed to be improving and after 9 days, they released her. This is looking back down the hall we wheeled her down. We had to wait at our end for them to unlock that gate.

Two days later we got a call very early in the morning. Elizabeth was bleeding from her mouth, her limbs were numb and she was having seizures. She said she didn’t want to die at home. We felt so sad. She was young—early 30’s. Life just seemed to be getting better for her. We loved her! We didn’t want her to die. She went back into the hospital. One of the Nairobi Missionaries is an MD and happened to be visiting here. He came to see her and had test ordered—basic diagnostic tests. They did not look good. She went into a stage where she was not very responsive. We prayed. We fasted.

I fasted for Elizabeth, but I came to realize I was the one that was blessed by the fast. Elizabeth didn’t change, but I did. I became more accepting of the Lord’s will. He loves us, knows what’s best for us and has suffered all we suffer. I prayed that His will would be done. My grief turned to peace. Elizabeth rallied a bit and was able to speak. Then the next morning she died. It was still hard to see this little family motherless, but I have faith that all will turn out okay. I know Elizabeth is in a good place. She was faithful and tried her best.

The living, however, have been a new challenge for me. I have a hard time understanding cultural requirements. George has to go to his ancestral home and build a house before Elizabeth can be buried. Traditionally, the community helped with the costs of the house and the burial. The community and extended families no longer seem to offer any help, but the social mores are still exceptionally strong and the requirements rigid. Traditionally family and friends gathered at the home of the bereaved to comfort. They would spend all day and night there until the body was buried. One person explained that was to guard the body and chase away hyenas. There aren’t hyenas in Kisumu and the body is still in the morgue, but friends gather every evening to sing, share scriptures, visit and offer condolences. They may limit their work days to come, and for George, he can’t focus on work until after the burial.

Elder Fox and I have gone three times in the week since Elizabeth passed. We sing. We share scriptures. We discuss how the house is going. (slowly) But it is an uplifting time. People are happy and at peace. They feel sorry for George, but he, too, is confident Elizabeth is well and out of pain. We sit outside George’s small house. It’s kind of like attached apartments in a square. So all the neighbors get to hear the singing and speaking as well. A few neighbors obviously listen in—and they are welcomed. Others go about washing children, taking clothes from the lines, cooking dinner and the other factors of life.

We get home after dark and have been blessed by safe travel and also that no mosquitoes have bitten us. It’s the dusk to dawn mosquitoes that carry malaria. When we visit, we feel the love and compassion of Georges friends, church members and neighbors. While we are in Busia and elsewhere, we know these faithful friends will gather nightly until June 1 when Elizabeth will be buried.