Background:
This past week I have been up country in Burundi, working with a minority tribe called the Batwa. They have for a long time been ostracized by the greater community because of their differences. They are quite short people, and they live in primitive conditions. They are the poorest people in the poorest country, and their tribe has a life expectancy of just over 27.
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| Some Batwa men |
I was helping them with their housing project, as they are trying to convert from living in tiny, nasty mud shacks, to living in decent brick houses. My job consisted of making mud, shoveling mud, moving mud on stretchers, making bricks, and moving bricks. It is tough manual labor that will make you strong in a short time. The Batwa people are small, but strong. If they had more to eat than a small amount of maize meal at night, they would be enormously muscular. After a few days of being the only Muzungu (white person) in the Batwa village, a group called Love Works came in from Canada.
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| Mud Hut |
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| Field of Bricks |
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| Finished Brick House |
The Game:
We had just eaten lunch after a hard morning of manual labor. The leader of the Canadian team told us that after our food had digested, we would leave to play a friendly football (soccer) match against some of the locals from the village. Even though I'm not a football player, it sounded like it could be a fun time. I did not know, however, that the match would be one of the most beautiful things I have ever been a part of.
Twelve of us Westerners arrived at the football pitch in our bus. We scanned the place for our opponents, but there were only about 10 raggedy looking children who were kicking around a "ball" made of clumped plastic bags, help together by twine. Perhaps these were our opponents? If so, it seemed like it would be an easy enough victory.
Team Bazungu (us, the white guys) walked out onto the field and began to kick our ball around, trying our best to avoid the pot holes that riddled the field. We noticed that the goals were of slightly differing size; that they were made of skinny warped tree trunks; that there were no nets; and that the goal posts were not near being squared at the corners.
As we were warming up, a team of 16 ran over the hill, approaching us in two perfectly straight lines, while chanting a song and sporting fresh, crisp, blue and white Adidas uniforms. They looked like extremely intimidating junior high school kids, but upon closer observation we realized they were our Batwa men. These guys looked sharp and serious as they warmed up. As we observed them and the 500+ people from the community that were now entirely surrounding the field, we understood that the "friendly" match was turning into much more of an ordeal than had been expected.
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| Both teams singing together after the game |
Wow! The atmosphere was intense. It was a full on battle from the start. The Batwa ran around looking like exceptionally coordinated little blue smurfs with no shoes on, and we ran around looking even more amusing to the large crowd. After about 20 minutes, the Batwa scored their first goal. The community roared and rushed the field in support of the home team; Batwa, Hutu, and Tutsi fans alike. It was a beautiful picture of restoration and unity in Burundi. Not very long ago, these people were all killing one another.
At half time the score was 2-1 Batwa. We wanted to win, but we understood that the most important factor of this intense match was to fellowship and build a stronger relationship with the Batwa. It was during the half time intermission that our entire team realized that the beautiful new uniforms the Batwa were wearing were a gift from the Love Works team. The Love Works leader kept it a secret from everyone. I smiled when I realized that the football team one of the poorest, most marginalized groups in the world, now had a greater sense of identity and significance because of their fresh uniforms.
The crowd, which created the boundaries of our field, cheered even more intensely in the second half; probably because the score had become Gatanu (5) to Rimwe (1). When the final whistle blew, the entire community ran out to the players. Everyone began hugging, shaking hands, giving high fives, smiling, and laughing. It was then that I realized I had just been involved in the best athletic loss in my life. The fans roared and raved for the Batwa victory. For so long they have been stamped upon and downcast, but in this moment they were basking in their glory. We love them, and even though they would have beaten us no matter how hard we tried, I was reminded of 1 John 3:16. It says "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for one another." We gladly laid down our lives and our pride for them.
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| Celebrating after the game |
Both teams rode on the same bus back to the village, where we shared cokes together. We drank, embraced, prayed, and then had a good old African dance party together. A few speeches were given, which further made me relish the event. We were told that a few years ago during the war, thousands of Hutus, Tutsis, and Batwa were massacred on the football pitch that we had just played on. But today, all three tribes and even Bazungus (whities) were present as players or spectators. Even though the competition was serious, there was an overabundance of love and joy. It was a little picture of heaven :)
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| Little Batwa boys praying before receiving porridge (a ministry of Harvest for Christ) |
