Saying goodbye is never an easy thing. It’s not easy to say goodbye to people that we love. It’s not easy to say goodbye to a place we love. It’s not easy to say goodbye to a life we love. When you combine all 3, it makes it the hardest goodbye of all. Of course, we have the hope of eternity, so goodbye is not really forever. But try telling your heart that in the moment!
Our goodbye began back in June, with one simple phone call, although it took almost 6 months to finish. It wasn’t really unexpected though. After all, we had been seeing the situation in Burkina go downhill for some time. Who would have ever thought that the most stable country in west Africa would become the “epicenter” of African jihadist activity? Well, that’s what is happening, regardless of what we thought possible or impossible. Anyways, back to that phone call.... The news had been talking about terrorist attacks for months, some villagers killed here, a church shot up there. Oh, and of course in the 2 preceding years there had been 3 major attacks in the capital. But we didn’t see any danger where we lived. Bobo is a very peaceful city, in a very peaceful region. All of these events were happening a long ways from us. There was no way that this danger would come anywhere near us for a very long time. Nonetheless, we aren’t stupid, so we did ask some brothers at the branch about it. Their response gave us reason to be concerned. They were closely monitoring the situation, and some felt that we should be ready to leave at a moment’s notice (have a suitcase packed and enough cash on hand for plane tickets, things like that). It’s probably a good thing we heard that when we did, as it wasn’t even 2 weeks later that we got the call. Yes, THE call.
It was a warm, uneventful Friday night. In the middle of dinner with friends, the phone rang with a number from Benin. The message was (more or less): the branch has arranged for all missionaries to leave Bobo in 3 days time... and we are strongly encouraged to be on the same flight! The instructions were to take any possessions that have a personal attachement, as we likely would not be going back. Needless to say, expected or not, such a phone call is a shock. For most of the next day, we mostly wandered around our house, half numb, half in shock, wondering how we could possibly condense 5 and a half years of life into a few suitcases. Even now, 6 months later, the memories of all the good times we had in that house, the time spent in the shade of the mango tree with brothers making Bobo tea, the dance parties, the dinners, the friends crying on our shoulders, all of them bring a smile to our face and an ache to our heart at the same time. And we won’t even talk about how much we miss our animals! Of course, the shock didn’t just affect us. When the friends began to hear about it the next day at the meeting, many were crying at losing us all. Others were frightened, asking what’s going to happen to those who are left behind, ones who can’t just pick up and leave? Many are still asking that, and, in fact, we think ourselves often think about that. When the organisation says to evacuate, it’s serious. What is going to happen in the future?
If you don’t know the rest of the story, you have probably guessed by now... yes we got on the same flight as the missionaries, and no we never went back to Bobo. Thanks to the tremendous help of friends, we were able to get all our remaining things packed up and sent to Ouagadougou, where a brother very lovingly rented us a nice house with no contract and no strings attached. At first we were convinced that we could never endure Ouaga for any length of time (the traffic is intense, the sun and the heat are searing, and the dust is brutal). But we ended up staying much longer than we originally thought possible. No, we didn’t miraculously come to love the city. But we did come to love the congregation we were in! Not really a surprise, be we found a warm and loving welcome. We found loving, spiritual shepherds. We found zealous, fun pioneers. We found discouraged ones that we were able to encourage. We found all the things that we could have ever wanted to draw us close to the congregation. And the original reason that we stayed in Ouaga was to attend the National Convention, which we are so glad we didn’t miss. This is a once-every-10-years event, with every single Witness from Burkina and many from beyond. Not only were we overjoyed at the association, but we got to see a Bible student take the step of baptism, after we (well, Alisa) had studied with her for 4 years. We wouldn’t have missed it for anything!
So now we jump ahead to November.... near the end of the month, the US embassy in Burkina changed the country’s status again. This is actually what began this whole story. Back in June, the embassy declared that virtually everywhere in the country outside of the capital was unsafe. Well, this time, they finished the job by declaring the entire country unsafe and sending embassy families out of the country to safety. As you can imagine, we had quite a sense of déjà vu, and a sense of impending doom. Maybe doom isn’t the right word, but we definitely felt like we were about to relive the same story again!
At this point, I should interject that we had actually already decided we needed to leave. Literally the day before the embassy’s announcement, following weeks (actually months) of tears, discussions, debates, prayers, and sighing, we had finally accepted the reality that we couldn’t stay in Ouaga for so many reasons. So in a way, this time it was a relief! We will never be able to second guess the decision, and wonder if we should have stayed, if there was more work that Jehovah had prepared for us in Burkina. There’s no question now, especially because we have since learned that the few remaining missionaries will also be leaving the country in coming weeks and months.
Still, it’s not easy to say goodbye. One young boy in our congregation couldn’t understand that we were leaving, and asked his mom why we were going to stop going to meetings. One of our best friends in Bobo said that as long as we were still in the same country, it still felt like we were present with him. More than a few tears were shed when we had to tell our friends that we were leaving. This time it didn’t feel like a “possibly temporary” situation. No, it was clear that this time is for good. We sold or gave away everything we owned that wouldn’t fit in 5 suitcases and our carry-ones. We gave up our house. We said goodbye to everyone and everything in Burkina Faso.
Now we aren’t the first people ever to go through this experience, nor will we be the last. Many have fled their homes with bullets whizzing by. Some have seen unspeakable suffering as they fled. Others have had nowhere to go and had to live in the bush or in refugee camps. And that’s not only in Africa! Despite our pain, we aren’t suffering nearly as much as some of our brothers and sisters. And in the end, would we say we regret going to Burkina because of the pain of leaving? Never! The last 6 years have been an unforgettable experience. Never had we imagined how close we would become with the brothers and sisters there, or how attached we would become to life there. Would we ever suggest not to go serve somewhere because it may not last forever? Again, never! The joy and blessings can’t even be measured. The pain at leaving may last for as long as this system does, but ultimately is is temporary. So there is no reason to hold back. We are so glad that we didn’t!
The logical question now is: where are we going, what are going to do? To be honest, we don’t yet have an answer to that, beyond the immediate future. But we are confident that Jehovah will help us answer that question in due time. Will it end being somewhere like Burkina? We have no idea! But we are confident that we will again be blessed, if we don’t hold back!
Our goodbye began back in June, with one simple phone call, although it took almost 6 months to finish. It wasn’t really unexpected though. After all, we had been seeing the situation in Burkina go downhill for some time. Who would have ever thought that the most stable country in west Africa would become the “epicenter” of African jihadist activity? Well, that’s what is happening, regardless of what we thought possible or impossible. Anyways, back to that phone call.... The news had been talking about terrorist attacks for months, some villagers killed here, a church shot up there. Oh, and of course in the 2 preceding years there had been 3 major attacks in the capital. But we didn’t see any danger where we lived. Bobo is a very peaceful city, in a very peaceful region. All of these events were happening a long ways from us. There was no way that this danger would come anywhere near us for a very long time. Nonetheless, we aren’t stupid, so we did ask some brothers at the branch about it. Their response gave us reason to be concerned. They were closely monitoring the situation, and some felt that we should be ready to leave at a moment’s notice (have a suitcase packed and enough cash on hand for plane tickets, things like that). It’s probably a good thing we heard that when we did, as it wasn’t even 2 weeks later that we got the call. Yes, THE call.
It was a warm, uneventful Friday night. In the middle of dinner with friends, the phone rang with a number from Benin. The message was (more or less): the branch has arranged for all missionaries to leave Bobo in 3 days time... and we are strongly encouraged to be on the same flight! The instructions were to take any possessions that have a personal attachement, as we likely would not be going back. Needless to say, expected or not, such a phone call is a shock. For most of the next day, we mostly wandered around our house, half numb, half in shock, wondering how we could possibly condense 5 and a half years of life into a few suitcases. Even now, 6 months later, the memories of all the good times we had in that house, the time spent in the shade of the mango tree with brothers making Bobo tea, the dance parties, the dinners, the friends crying on our shoulders, all of them bring a smile to our face and an ache to our heart at the same time. And we won’t even talk about how much we miss our animals! Of course, the shock didn’t just affect us. When the friends began to hear about it the next day at the meeting, many were crying at losing us all. Others were frightened, asking what’s going to happen to those who are left behind, ones who can’t just pick up and leave? Many are still asking that, and, in fact, we think ourselves often think about that. When the organisation says to evacuate, it’s serious. What is going to happen in the future?
If you don’t know the rest of the story, you have probably guessed by now... yes we got on the same flight as the missionaries, and no we never went back to Bobo. Thanks to the tremendous help of friends, we were able to get all our remaining things packed up and sent to Ouagadougou, where a brother very lovingly rented us a nice house with no contract and no strings attached. At first we were convinced that we could never endure Ouaga for any length of time (the traffic is intense, the sun and the heat are searing, and the dust is brutal). But we ended up staying much longer than we originally thought possible. No, we didn’t miraculously come to love the city. But we did come to love the congregation we were in! Not really a surprise, be we found a warm and loving welcome. We found loving, spiritual shepherds. We found zealous, fun pioneers. We found discouraged ones that we were able to encourage. We found all the things that we could have ever wanted to draw us close to the congregation. And the original reason that we stayed in Ouaga was to attend the National Convention, which we are so glad we didn’t miss. This is a once-every-10-years event, with every single Witness from Burkina and many from beyond. Not only were we overjoyed at the association, but we got to see a Bible student take the step of baptism, after we (well, Alisa) had studied with her for 4 years. We wouldn’t have missed it for anything!
So now we jump ahead to November.... near the end of the month, the US embassy in Burkina changed the country’s status again. This is actually what began this whole story. Back in June, the embassy declared that virtually everywhere in the country outside of the capital was unsafe. Well, this time, they finished the job by declaring the entire country unsafe and sending embassy families out of the country to safety. As you can imagine, we had quite a sense of déjà vu, and a sense of impending doom. Maybe doom isn’t the right word, but we definitely felt like we were about to relive the same story again!
At this point, I should interject that we had actually already decided we needed to leave. Literally the day before the embassy’s announcement, following weeks (actually months) of tears, discussions, debates, prayers, and sighing, we had finally accepted the reality that we couldn’t stay in Ouaga for so many reasons. So in a way, this time it was a relief! We will never be able to second guess the decision, and wonder if we should have stayed, if there was more work that Jehovah had prepared for us in Burkina. There’s no question now, especially because we have since learned that the few remaining missionaries will also be leaving the country in coming weeks and months.
Still, it’s not easy to say goodbye. One young boy in our congregation couldn’t understand that we were leaving, and asked his mom why we were going to stop going to meetings. One of our best friends in Bobo said that as long as we were still in the same country, it still felt like we were present with him. More than a few tears were shed when we had to tell our friends that we were leaving. This time it didn’t feel like a “possibly temporary” situation. No, it was clear that this time is for good. We sold or gave away everything we owned that wouldn’t fit in 5 suitcases and our carry-ones. We gave up our house. We said goodbye to everyone and everything in Burkina Faso.
Now we aren’t the first people ever to go through this experience, nor will we be the last. Many have fled their homes with bullets whizzing by. Some have seen unspeakable suffering as they fled. Others have had nowhere to go and had to live in the bush or in refugee camps. And that’s not only in Africa! Despite our pain, we aren’t suffering nearly as much as some of our brothers and sisters. And in the end, would we say we regret going to Burkina because of the pain of leaving? Never! The last 6 years have been an unforgettable experience. Never had we imagined how close we would become with the brothers and sisters there, or how attached we would become to life there. Would we ever suggest not to go serve somewhere because it may not last forever? Again, never! The joy and blessings can’t even be measured. The pain at leaving may last for as long as this system does, but ultimately is is temporary. So there is no reason to hold back. We are so glad that we didn’t!
The logical question now is: where are we going, what are going to do? To be honest, we don’t yet have an answer to that, beyond the immediate future. But we are confident that Jehovah will help us answer that question in due time. Will it end being somewhere like Burkina? We have no idea! But we are confident that we will again be blessed, if we don’t hold back!
