AMAZING JOURNEY OF A LIFETIME; MY RETURN TO AFRICA, AFTER 52 YEARS!!!







                                                                   

      As 1950 began,  my parents, Ernest and Hallie Green, were answering God's












call upon their lives to go to Africa,- under The Berean Mission, St. Louis.  My dad went as an












Evangelist/Bible teacher, and a translator, and my mother as a Registered Nurse. My oldest brother,












Eldon, age 9, next oldest brother, David, age 7, myself, (not quite 5 years old), and our baby sister,










Patricia, - who was in Mother's arms -, were all set to go. The Belgian Congo was a colony of the










country of Belgium,..a situation that was not uncommon in the early '50's.  The country is 5 times the










size of the state of Texas, with over 200 African tribal groups and languages!!  At that time, the










Belgian government ruled over the Congo.  They built roads, developed industries of mining, rubber,








and logging, and created a system of schools and regional medical facilities. While the Regional










Centers were fairly well developed, the Interior was very Primitive, and in some cases barely








passable.  Malaria, typhoid, pneumonia, yellow fever, jaundice, hepatitis, and a thousand other








Tropical diseases were rampant, not to mention snakes, scorpions, gorilla, baboons, leopards, and








other dangerous creatures!  Witchcraft, witchdoctors, curses, tribal conflicts, polygamy, and even








killings were commonplace. Our safety was clearly in the hands of the God who had called our






family to Congo, Africa.  The missionaries' task was to bring the Gospel of God's love to the native








villagers of Equatorial Belgian Congo.   So it was that on my 5th birthday, May 31, 1945, we docked








at the port of Matadi, Belgian Congo, Africa.  Along the way we had braved storms at sea, endless








days and nights with no land in sight, and we boys had even lost several softballs, gloves, and








baseballs, 'accidently' tossed overboard!! Our family, fresh from Nebraska and the heartlands of








America, were beside ourselves with excitement, and ready to dive into the middle of this new








adventure.  After a 21 day voyage from New York City on the freighter SS Steinstradt, our family








could not have been any "Greener",-raw rookies in fact-, certainly living up to our family name!!

   


     After disembarking on the African coast there came days of driving on barely passable roads to








the capital city, of Leopoldville, (now named Kinshasha).  The Tropical sun, heat, and humidity were








noticed immediately.  Among our earthly possessions was a 1950 Ford, donated by friends in








America.  I vividly remember watching the huge crane unloading our car from the bowels of the








ship!!  Our travelling companions on the drive were a British doctor, and 5 snake hunters from








Florida.  We 12 passengers on that freighter made quite a group!  After catching our breath for a








couple of nights in Leopoldville, we booked passage on a Sabena Airlines DC-3, to the Interior








regional post of Bukavu, Congo. Upon arrival we were met by veteran missionaries, waiting to drive








us on our trip Downcountry over the infamous Route de Kimbili,...climbing mountains, skirting








cliffs, and travelling an average of perhaps 15 miles per hour!!   For a good part of the 'road', - really






a kind of overgrown path, - it was one way only,..every other day travelers could proceed only that






one direction.  Road hazards included landslides, trees down across the road, violent thunder storms,






bridges washed out, and deep holes to avoid!! Also, we dodged people walking, and animals running






across the road.  We drove the next three arduous and sometimes terrifying days to our first posting,






Katanti, Belgian Congo, Africa, set upon a hill in the middle of the jungle!  We were met with a






jubilant celebration, by the Africans and the few white missionaries at that Mission post.  What a






moment for us newbies!!








     Thus began 10 years of Mission work,-until I was 15,-among the Balega tribe, and living in the








undeveloped provinces of Maniema and of South Kivu, in the midst of one of the largest and most








dense rain forests in the world. Although I wouldn't trade the experience for anything on this Earth,








the ending was pretty 'sketchy', to say the least!!  But first, we had to adjust and learn the ways of






the Balega tribe specifically, and Africa in general!!  In so doing, we were in many ways growing up






"Congolese".  Here's how all those adventures went down,.....



































      My family and I fled the Congo in 1960, after that country had received its' independence from




the Belgians,-and riots, lootings, killings, rapings, and various atrocities made staying there unsafe.



Word had reached us that some missionaries in our region had been attacked, raped, and killed.  So,




with fearful, heavy hearts, we formed a caravan of mission cars on the way to the border at Bukavu,




South Kivu Province. After being detained for 3 days against our will, and guarded at gunpoint 24/7




by drunken members of the Congolese military, we and 28 other evacuating missionaries were finally




allowed to leave peacefully, after those grueling, terrifying days of negotiating for our safety between




the US Embassy and the Congolese.  Were we threatened at gunpoint?..Yes!  Were the women in our




group threatened?,.Yes!  Were our lives at stake?,.Yes! Were we afraid of death?,.Absolutely!.  A 




miracle occurred when one of our heavily armed guards was recognised by my father, by his Balega




tribal markings carved on his face!!   My father was moved to speak to the guard in his own dialect,




and the highly explosive tension was miraculously broken.  Speaking to the other troops, he




said,.."these are our friends, the missionaries!  They have nothing, and we should let them go!"  




After those wild, crazy, and terrifying days we were driven at break kneck speed to the Rwanda




border crossing at the river Ruzizi, and allowed to leave the country!!  Thank you Lord,..God was




with us!!  Feeling happy and relieved to escape unharmed, I had no idea what would happen some 52




years later!!









                                                                                  II

     Fast forward to the Summer of 2011.  I was now living in Texas with my wife of 45 years, Carol. 




She fought valiantly against Dementia, Strokes, and other issues, with my kids and I her Caregivers.




She was called to her Eternal Home in June of 2011.  Throughout our years I had sometimes




had a desire to return to my adopted country, the Congo,..but my wife, Carol,-having heard too many




snake, scorpion, & witch doctor tales-, was not lining up to take that trip with me!  However, one




of the last things she did tell me was that "when I'm gone to Heaven, you go back to Africa, Rog!"



     So it was, that in February, 2012, I joined a team of 8 short term missionaries from California on a




10 day trip to Kampala, Uganda, Africa.  (I had been to Kampala several times as a kid). This was the




first step in fulfilling my dream of revisiting Africa!  We were on Mission to God Cares Primary,




High School, and Orphanages in the Kampala area.  The official name in the Lugandan language is




"Buyamba",..which literally means 'to help'. This trip did everything to encourage me in the return to




Africa,..and nothing to discourage me!  God Cares, Buyamba, is capably operated by Pastor Dongo, a




man I've since come to love as a dear friend and co-worker. Over 1,600 African orphans have been




provided a safe haven in a Christian environment and school.  Many of these 'at risk' kids are




orphaned by the wars, terrorist acts, plagues, genocide, AIDS, and hunger that continue across the




Continent of Africa.  The African leader of Buyamba himself was orphaned as a child, and with his




wife cares for 16 people in their own home, in addition to running the Orphanage & schools.

    


     Since Kampala, Uganda, put me only about an 8 hour drive from the Congo, I began to plan a




second trip to Buyamba, Kampala, which would allow me to then continue on to the Congo.  That




trip was realized in August and September, 2012!  The Ugandan Africans dubbed me 'Rogers', while




my Congolese friends named me "Banuamazi".  The Congolese name literally means, "he drinks




water from the stream in the forest, but he doesn't know who or what "pooped" upstream"!

    
The story of that trip, "Journey(s) Of A Lifetime: Return To Africa" is the story of this book.