7 things that are still there....
Saturday morning
we woke up in a house that was stripped of everything that is
of monetary value. Things like our laptops, my camera gear, Hartmut’s work
shoes, my wallet and lots of money are gone.
First came the
shock. This can’t be true, this can’t be happening. Not now, in the middle of a
worldwide lock-down and closed borders and no ways to replace our things. Not in
Malawi, the place that has always felt like an oasis of safety after the years
in Cape Town. And also, not my camera, the one thing that feels like an
extension of my body and the tool I use express what I feel.
After I realised
that it was true, I just cried. Every time I thought about what happened, every
time I thought about what could have happened, every kind message… they got the
tears rolling. At the end of the day I
had a headache, just because of all the crying.
Now a few days
have past. The initial shock is over. We realise that we, most probably won’t get
our things back but also that it could have been worse.
And in that, I am
learning that though many things are gone, other things are still here. As I
see them and recognise them with fresh eyes, they feel even more valuable. It’s therapeutic, healing even, to ponder
those things and write them down. It may seem a bit melodramatic, but I don’t
think that I realised what an impact something like this has to so many levels
of your mental health. Being kind to your mind and allowing emotions to run their course is crucial for recovery.
Hartmut has been working
on the police report. Part of it was a list with the details of all the things
that are gone. It’s a painful list to read so I wrote a counterpart to that
list. The list of things that are still there, the list that brings joy.
- God. He is still here, He is still good, He is still loving and He is still in control. Nobody can take that away. What happened wasn’t a good experience, but it could have been much worse. Imagine what could have happened if one of us had woken up while the criminal was in our bedroom. I don’t even want to let my thoughts go there as it sends a chill down my spine. We don’t always understand why things happen, but I find comfort in knowing a God whose understanding goes further and deeper than mine.
- Us four. We are all shaken but unharmed. It’s only stuff. Valuable stuff, but still. We are together and we are healthy. All the things are replaceable, or we can live without it, but we are not.
- Community. I have been blown away by the community of friends and family, far and close who have been so kind, so wise, so helpful. There wasn’t much that that people could do for us, but so many people have shown how they wanted to help, offered money, advise, a shoulder to cry on. When I read all the messages I get very emotional and very grateful. All those amazing people who listen, offer help, pray for us and give wise counsel are still there and no criminal can change that.
- Creativity. Saturday morning, as I was still busy going through the house to see what was missing, Sophie came to me. ‘I made you a present.’ She had made an envelope out of paper and filled it with handwritten banknotes and coins. ‘Because your money and wallet are gone. I thought you could use this.’ I may not be able to use that kind of money in the shops, but we will be able to use that kind of creativity. Especially since my laptop is gone, and we use that for home-schooling all the time. Being creative to do basic things isn’t new to us. Living in Malawi has forced us many times to come up with a plan B, and often even a plan C and D because all the other plans didn’t work out. We have trained that muscle and will use it to the fullest to not let this setback, set us back too much.
- Privilege. This has been on my mind in the last few days. Yes, a lot of things are gone, but because of the families and cultures we were born into, we have a community of people around us who can all step in and help when we need it. So many people have offered to send money if we would need it. Even if that would not have happened, we have a stable income that will help us to replace what we have lost and we have passports that give us a choice to leave if we would no longer feel safe. This is so much more than most people who experience trauma and loss have, and I think it's important to recognise it.
- Nature. A few hours after that dreadful wake-up we decided to go to the beach to clear our heads and to be away from the house. The lake was rough and the waves were big. As I was trying to stay standing while the waves were pushing me over, I looked around. The sun was hot, the trees were green, the waves wild. A fish eagle flew over my head and cried for his mate, the monkeys were playing in the trees. The girls let out shrieks of joy as the waves tossed them from one side to the other. And I was happy. My stomach was still in a knot, my headache had not gone, but I felt a sense of hope and happiness.
- Purpose. When the corona crisis started, we got message after message about closing borders and flights that did not fly anymore. There was a sense of urgency, we had to make a decision before it was too late. When that happened, we felt a peace that we could not explain and decided to stay. You know that story in the bible, where queen Esther is nervous about going to the king but Mordechai tells her that she might be in the position she is in, ‘for such a time as this’? That’s the story that kept on going through my head. I did not know why, and I still don’t know. But I know we have a purpose and purpose keeps one going. That’s why we, on Saturday afternoon, did what we had already planned to do before the break in. We had planned to buy 500 kg of maize so that we would have food to share with others when things get difficult during a lock down. And although I didn’t feel like going at first, it turned out to be a redeeming experience. Even though I felt stripped, we realised that we had still so much to give and that in itself took the pain away. We may feel like everything of value was taken, but driving through small villages, past homesteads where what we have left (good clothes, lots of food, a solid house etc) would be an unimaginable luxury was humbling and put things in perspective.
