Youth in Mission:
It’s a three-week whirlwind tour; a glimpse into the people, places and partnerships of Malawi’s Church of Central Africa Presbyterian and Canada’s Presbyterian Church. It brings together nine Canadian youth, most of them veteran camp counsellors, and five Malawian youth from various presbyteries in Blantyre synod.
Most of the stops involve visiting or playing with children — unsurprising since over half of Malawi’s population is under 18. But most of the children met are orphans; in Malawi this means they have one or no surviving parents.
“This hall is used to hold church services for young people,” Rev. Paul Mawaya says as he gestures beyond the historic church to a building shaped like a crown and topped with a cross.
St. Michael and All Angels’, with its walls and windows warped by time, holds six services each Sunday to accommodate about 7,000 worshippers.
Over 97 per cent of Malawi’s 15 million people are under the age of 65; 80 per cent are Christian. The church here is young, and it is strong.
“There’s always a struggle with youth in the Malawian church,” says Mawaya, head of Blantyre synod youth. “In synod, presbyteries, congregations, at all levels they want to do something. What you’re going to find is there’s a lot of energy from our youth.”
“The hardest part is because of poverty,” says Eneles Chaononga. “Guardians think it’s tough to look after this orphan. That they can’t manage. We sit down and say, ‘You are in this world to help these children. God will give you power.’
“The children are left to look after themselves to get money for clothes. They get pregnant. They marry very young.” In her time at Likhubula House, four girls from the orphan care program have dropped out of school because of pregnancies, she says, suggesting some exchanged sex for money.
“When they are an orphan they say, ‘Because I’m an orphan I can do nothing.’ But we want to take that heart out of them and say, ‘You are God’s children. You can do something. You can be something. You can change your situation if you just finish your education.'”
Seven years ago, following the death of her husband, Chaononga came here to live in an orphanage at Likhubula, which has since become a dorm where the visiting Canadian and Malawian girls sleep. The church now supports the children’s guardians, allowing the orphans to live in homes.
Most of the orphans’ houses have only one or two rooms, almost no furnishings, and no electricity. But in the villages near Mount Mulanje, grandmothers offer “ground nuts” or peanuts and cassava to their light-skinned “azungu” visitors — tokens of generosity offered to those who represent wealth in one of the world’s poorest countries.
“I’ve found it’s easier for people who have money to say money is not attached to happiness,” 23-year-old Mike Birks later observes as the youth reflect on the experience. “Money means something else, apart from what it means in Canada. It means health and status.”
Commander Lewis is 16, and with the death of his parents two years ago, he became the head of the household and guardian of his four younger siblings.
They manage to scrape by, renting out one of two houses his father built in the densely populated township of Ndirande. Commander admits food and clothing are a struggle, but he does so hesitantly. He doesn’t want to complain, he says in Chichewa, since a CCAP program is providing funding for his secondary school education.
Death is an ever-present reality in a country where about 12 per cent of adults are infected with HIV. Although it has long been considered a problem for the poorest, transient and vulnerable members of society, according to Malawi’s National AIDS Commission, current HIV prevalence rates are highest among the wealthiest in society, and among those with post-secondary educations. And infection rates are related to marriage; those who are married or are seeking to be married run a higher risk of infection. This means youth, especially young women, are particularly at risk.
Although there are many reasons for infection within a stable relationship, two predominate: sexual infidelity and one partner keeping his or her status a secret.
A sense of incredulity hangs in the air as the Canadians introduce themselves to young leaders in Malawian churches. Most of the Canadians come from congregations too small to be called “congregations” in Malawi. Those from Malawi, on the other hand, hail from churches with youth groups larger than most of the Canadians’ congregations.
“Why?” the Malawians ask. Why are your groups so small? Why don’t you just invite others to come?
The discussion weaves through aspects of Canada’s culture: of secularism, of the belief that faith is a personal matter, and of a stigma against proselytizing. But the young people gently and firmly hold each other to account. Ultimately, many of the Canadians would later admit, it was simple discomfort — even fear — which kept them from talking openly about their faith in their own country.
“I felt I was blaming other hypocritical youth in Canada for things I do myself,” Eden Gaskin, 19, would later admit. “I don’t go to church every Sunday. I’m not as interested if there’s no youth, and it’s hard to break into a new youth group. It’s easier to back away.”
“If I’m called to be the light, but I run away to join my fellow light — if I run away from the so-called darkness — who will be the light in that darkness?” asks Bayana Chunga, founder of Wings of Hope Malawi and a faith columnist in the Sunday Times newspaper. “There is so much in the Presbyterian system that’s better than the Pentecostals. Better systems and theology and such, but I think it’s our attitude that’s wrong. It’s like you are a fellow worker with God. You have to work.”
It was a commission that echoed through the long trip home. As the Canadians approached security at the airport in Blantyre, the Malawians who journeyed with them began to sing across the gulf between them. “Farewell, farewell, but not forever!”
