“Ubuntu” and “a wise man is quiet and listens”

The Archbishop Desmund Tutu’s book, God has a Dream, reads like an apologetic for humanity. The Archbishop realizes that as a result of his witnessing firsthand how inhumane, evil, and neglectful humans can be towards one another, he wields great authority and credibility in defending the goodness of the human spirit, and the unending love of God for all people. 

 

He talks about the African concept of “Ubuntu”, the idea that we are all inexorably interconnected, and that we can only truly experience our own humanity by acceding to our interdependence with each other. The true evils of the world, racism, sexism, injustice, ect, and its fruits such as war and poverty, are really harmful to all humanity, the perpetrators and the victims, because both are isolated from each other. The values of self sufficiency and independence have born much advancement but perhaps at too high a cost. We are losing each other in our pursuit for success and power. We are losing the sense of “ubuntu”. 

 

At Geytighi School, next to the orphanage, there are over 400 students, yet only 8 teachers. Children are crowded into classrooms with no supplies, they huddle in groups around the 4 or 5 textbooks available, being taught by teachers who have very little training to give them to skills to teach in even the best of situations, let alone the ones they find themselves in here. The orphanage supplements the school experience by bringing over long-term volunteers who can teach classes, as well as creating a “student-teacher” program, where the brightest and highly motivated young adults from the surrounding villages who do not have the financial resources to go to secondary school, can work for a year or two at the orphanage mentoring the children, helping the mamas, translating for the volunteers , as well as help to teach at the school. While the student teachers work at the orphanage, sponsors are found to pay for these young people to eventually go off to secondary school.

 

A group of us went for a walk up the mountain the other day. It happened to correspond with the end of the school day. We soon found ourselves engulfed in our walk up the mountain by 70-80 children! I admit, I felt a little uneasy at first. I wondered, what must these children think of us? Will some be resentful of our presence and act out? Will some start to beg, and then what could/should I say? Will some get aggressive and start to rummage right into our pockets? Of course, while some of those fears might have a level of legitimacy, it is still all out of fear none the less. Fear comes out of ignorance, fear separates us, fear pushes us away from each other, fear undermines “ubuntu” 

 

The reality was, one by one, the children would come up, and giggle, smile, and say “jambo.” Some of the braver children would even slide up next to you, gently reach out to hold my hand, and when I looked down, they were looking up, with warmth, with a smile. They would walk with us until they came to the path where they needed to head off, and away they went, as joyful as they had arrived.

 

The reality became very different from my fear, which often happens when we realize our interdependence. There was no escaping the situation we found ourselves in on the mountain. 

The reality of hope for the goodness of humanity is what we experienced.

There is a teenager girl at the orphanage, Stella, who is home from school. She speaks excellent English, as do all the children. I told her about our experience on our walk and asked her why the children aren’t afraid, and why do they go so far out of their way, again and again to make us feel welcome, safe, secure, especially since these are not children at the orphanage. Stella explained it to me this way, “You have come to help us here in Tanzania, and we do need much help, and you give us so much by being here. These children know you are here helping, as many others do as well. We are grateful, very grateful, but we do not have much to give you back. But this is what we have to give you, all we have is our welcome.”

 

I was talking with the Assistant Director of the orphanage, a college educated, Tanzanian man whose name is Peter. I told Peter about all of this, and he began to talk about his one trip to America and how different he thought it would be, and his misconceptions of America and Americans. He wanted to know what I thought Tanzania would be like, and what I have found to be true and not true. Our discussion developed into this idea of the goodness of the human spirit, but yet so much brokenness in our world resulting in the level of poverty we see here in Africa.  Peter said that regardless of where you are in the world, you find the same desire by people to be loved, and valued. You find the same desire, wherever you are, for people to want their children to be safe, healthy, to be able to go to good schools, for the children to have a chance to at least try and go after their dreams. He said, we just need to see that we all have these same desires. 

 

I looked at him and said, “Peter you are really wise, I need to spend more time with you.” Peter laughed loudly, leaning back. He thought that was so funny. He replied, “Sam, I am not a wiseman, a wiseman is quiet, and spends his time listening. I talk like a chicken, non-stop!”

 

That has become my mantra. 

 A wiseman is quite, and spends his time listening.

Comments

[susan]

"All we have is our welcome". In spite of what else any of us has, I think that is true for all of us. It is only by our openess to others, valuing others and our willingness to be wise in the way we are available to listen that determines what we really have to give. Expertise, education , experience may enhance what I can do. My welcome reveals what I truly have to give.

[Pam Chaney]

Dear Sam ~

I accidentally came across your blog while trying to get information on the work of Rich and Mary Nodar in order to support their work. Just this week, I was praying and asked God to please help me clarify what I was feeling about St. Paul's, the world, our communal life together; those kinds of things. I typed in a search request, and one word came back; a word I had never heard: Ubuntu.

Ubuntu. Yes. That is exactly how I feel. That is exactly what is pouring out of the brokenness that I have inside and that is connecting me to everyone and everything everywhere: Ubuntu.

I feel so blessed to have come across your blog.

Peace.

Pam