Bishop Elie’s accomplishments were many and varied. As leader of the Free Methodist Church of Burundi he saw continual growth even during the civil war that drove thousands of refugees to neighboring countries. His commitment to education led to the formation of primary and secondary schools for refugees and ultimately, in cooperation with church leaders from DR Congo and Rwanda, the founding of Hope Africa University. His leadership skills were recognized by international academic and religious organizations and his wise counsel was valued by many in the national government.

Bishop Buconyori’s decline in health was rapid and his death was unexpected so finding a replacement for him as Rector will take some time. To help with this transition the Board of Governors of the university has asked Dr. Gerald Bates to serve as a transitional leader while the board conducts a search for a new rector for the school. Gerald Bates is uniquely qualified to serve in this capacity. He and his wife Marlene served in Burundi as missionaries for many years so the languages and culture are familiar to them. They both are founding members of Friends of Hope Africa University board of directors and have been involved with the planning and support of the university since its inception. Gerald is President of Friends of Hope Africa University and, as such, has served on the Governing Board of HAU throughout its history. Dr. Bates has a PhD from Michigan State University and served as interim President of Spring Arbor University in 2007-2008.

Even though this assignment comes several years into their retirement the Bates feel that this is an area where they can help. Gerald says, “After considering the implications and the need Marlene and I have decided that we will accept the invitation of the Board of Governors of Hope Africa University to come to the university as rector for a transition period. The board feels that they do not have a candidate at this time and that they need our help. Our target date for arriving at HAU is on or around June 1. We envision periods of 3-4 months in Burundi with interspersed months back in the US. We are now in regular contact with HAU. Things are going well. We must give immense credit to second-level leaders who have taken in a new class of over 1,000 new students, assigned all the students to classes and provided instructors. There are, however, many things that need to be cared for and many administrative matters to deal with. We would appreciate your prayers as we make all the adjustments that are necessary to prepare for this assignment.”

If you would like to help with the added costs of this transition period please use the Donate button or send your contribution to Friends of Hope Africa University, PO Box 580, Spring Arbor, MI 49283.

My seventy-one students were a very bright group, and so eager to learn. I have been teaching nursing for six years, and have never before met such a motivated group of students. Although I knew no French or Kirundi, and English was a 3rd or 4th language for most of my students somehow we understood each other. I ended up teaching two courses, instead of the one I
had intended because after the end of the first course the students begged me to teach the next course as well. And I couldn’t say no! I was able to engage the students in stimulating classroom discussions. They not only presented to their classmates on different topics but they also had the opportunity to teach local widows and people from the nearby church about a variety of different health topics. I was so proud of them, but mostly they were proud of themselves, and of what they had accomplished!

When I arrived, I found out that none of the nursing students had stethoscopes. I was able to get 50 donated from WorldScopes to arrive in October, and I purchased 30 others which arrived before I left. I was delighted to be able to give 30 of the students their own stethoscope. The others will get theirs in October. They were very excited, and there was no fighting over who got them before I left and who would wait.

I also was able to spend a week at Kibuye Hope Hospital working with the nurses and medical students there, and spent a week with the Sister Connection widows group during the kids camp, teaching about malaria, HIV/AIDS, abstaining from sex until marriage, and other health questions the kids had.

I had an amazing experience at HAU — I am already trying to figure out how to get back there

After the delivery of unexpected twins I continued rounds. Normal stuff, at least for Africa: In one bed there was a child who was attacked by a hyena. Next to him was a boy who fell out of a tree and broke his femur. A few patients had meningitis (an infection of the central nervous system), and lots of patients had malaria so we monitored their progress. Then we got to our last patient of the day: Nefosha, a 19 year old woman with a damaged heart valve and severe heart failure.

I didn’t think it was possible but somehow Nefosha looked even worse than she had the day before. In addition to her usual shortness of breath and exhaustion she had severe chest pain. Her heart was beating so hard that her entire left chest rose and fell with each beat but her pulse was too weak to be felt. She had developed an irregular heart beat (something was wrong with her heart’s electrical system) and in order to know what was wrong we needed to look at an EKG. Unfortunately the nearest hospital with an EKG machine and medications to treat arrhythmias was in Gitega, 45 minutes away.

We called the hospital and they said we could come but their cardiologist was gone. They would be able to get an EKG for us but they would need me to come with her to read the EKG and determine what medicine she needed.

An hour later I was taking my first ambulance ride in Burundi. A couple interested medical students went with me and we were successful in getting an EKG. Unfortunately she had a condition called atrial fibrillation and the hospital in Gitega didn’t have any medications that would be useful for treating it. We asked if we could use their defibrillator but it was broken. We were out of options. There was nothing left to do but pray. In America she could get her valve repaired and most likely the repair would allow her to live a healthy life. She would be able to finish college, get married, have children, and have so many of the other things that we take for granted. But instead she was moaning in pain, clutching her chest, and gasping for air as her concerned family took turns comforting her.

As the ambulance took us back to Kibuye there was a beautiful sunset in the distance and I found myself hoping that she was seeing its beauty, knowing that it might be her last chance. We arrived after dark and took her back to her bed. The students and I ate a late dinner and returned to the hospital to check on her. No improvement. She was breathing slower, and no longer had the strength to cough up the fluid accumulating in her lungs. Her sister was lying in bed with her and the rest of her family surrounded her bed. Without a miracle she wasn’t going to make it through the night. We asked the family if we could pray for her and Blaze, one of the students, asked God to perform a miracle.

After the prayer Blaze asked me if I knew what her name meant. He told me that her name, Nefosha, means “I dance for God”. I held Nefosha’s hand and while she slowly slipped out of consciousness I was overcome with a feeling of peace. I realized that God was going to do a miracle in her life that was far more spectacular than the one we had in mind in our prayer. He was preparing for Nefosha to be free again. She would no longer have to gasp for air while her heart nearly beats out of her chest. Instead God was going to allow her to live up to her name. How foolish of me to hope that she was admiring a sunset during our ambulance ride! She was preparing to be dancing for God, in the beauty of His kingdom!

1 Corinthians 15: When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

“Where, O death is your victory?
Where, O death is your sting?”

I can’t wait to see Nefosha again, living up to her name, in the presence of our King.

“This is Africa.”

We first heard these words shortly after arriving in Burundi. Two of our bags missed a connection somewhere between Toronto and Brussels and as we left the Bujumbura airport I asked the missionary who picked us up if the airline would get the bags to Kibuye in the next few days. He laughed and said, “Probably not, this is Africa.” The bags arrived 15 days later.

Since then I have had plenty of reminders of where I am and, “This is Africa,” has become a regular part of my vocabulary. Sometimes I say it after a funny experience like trying to explain to the night guard how a telescope works, sometimes it’s a strange experience like when a huge swarm of termites came up out of the ground around our house and flew up in to the sky in numbers that dimmed the light of the sun. But as bizarre as these experiences have been, my time in the hospital is where I am most frequently reminded that “this is Africa” and I’m not in Michigan anymore. Where else would I have a day like last Friday?

It began like a normal day, I was nearly finished with rounds when a midwife came to me and asked me if I would like to deliver a baby. I said “ok” and followed her to the delivery room. The mom was a 20 year old and this was her first pregnancy. As we waited for the baby the midwife handed me a pair of scissors and told me to cut. “What? No! An Episiotomy? I’ve never done one of those before and I’m pretty sure they have no proven benefit.” The nurse laughed and one of the Hope Arica med students explained to me that here in Burundi they are often indicated because they don’t have the resources to manage obstructed labor that we have in America. I obliged and made the  cut and was shocked that my patient wasn’t screaming in pain. Shortly after, a healthy boy arrived. We resuscitated the infant and I returned to the woman to deliver her placenta. But it didn’t come. Instead there was another head! She had twins and no one knew it! I delivered another healthy boy and as I sewed up the episiotomy I laughed to myself thinking “This is Africa,” and I thanked God that the twins were born without complications and that I was here to help.

~From Bishop Elie Buconyori, Rector of Hope Africa University

From the Wilson’s blog.

So much has happened in the past week-and-a-half!  We’ll try to keep this brief, but we want you to see the beautiful people we’ve been meeting.

A couple of Sundays ago, we went with one of the existing choirs at Hope Africa University to a Free Baptist Church where they were ministering. It was a tiny church building, but Burundians know how to fit “just one more” on the benches, so we all found seats for the service.  It was in progress when we got there at a few minutes before 9am, and we worshipped until about 1:15 pm!  No less than four choirs sang…and there were two sermons.  Burundian Christians look forward to their worship services all week, and they make the most of them.  We were blessed by the freedom they have in expressing their joy as they worship, sometimes dancing and shouting to give praise to God.

We worshipped again with a group of young people on the Tuesday after that. Our family was invited to the “birthday party” of a graduate student who is in our university choir, Christelle.  She wanted her 30th birthday to bring glory to the Lord, and be filled with praise and witness to his salvation, so…instead of having her friends over for food and drink, she had them over for songs and prayer and preaching!  It was a spirit-filled time, right there on her front lawn. Close to forty people attended.  The team singing Kirundi and English worship songs was absolutely beautiful in tone, harmony, fluid transitions…it was a taste of heaven.

Then our family was asked to share some songs, which we did, followed by the preaching of the word.  A dynamic young preacher spoke powerfully on Jesus as “the Beloved Son of God,” and our place a beloved sons and daughters when we are IN CHRIST.  He spoke in English and had a Kirundi translator…they were such a well-matched team in preaching, it was sometimes hard to tell who was the preacher and who was the translator! Again, it lasted hours…and then our family was asked to come inside the house and eat with Christelle’s family (a special privilege).  We got to know her family (all 8 siblings, plus parents and extended family). It was wonderful to spend some time with a Burundian family, especially this vibrant, Christian family.

I will close by telling you about the warmest welcome we’ve ever received…given to us by forty or fifty widows at the Mount Hope location of Sister Connection.  At first we thought no one was there…then a handful of women came out the front door of the building, calling out greetings and singing a song.  The song grew louder and more joyful as more and more and MORE women poured out to greet us.  We were all on the verge of tears…it was so unexpected and beautiful.  After we were invited in, we learned that the widows were there for an all-night prayer gathering to pray for the upcoming summer retreat.  So we exchanged words of greeting with them, explaining that the Greenville Free Methodist Church in Illinois of the USA had sent us to see the good workthat God is doing among them, and to affirm the bond we have as members of the body of Christ…to tell them that we pray for them.  Guess what? They pray for us, too!  Praise the Lord for the many people we are able to call sisters and brothers.

Soon the farmer’s wife arrived and the two of them went to the hut behind the hospital and
prepared a meal of rice and beans for themselves and their new acquaintance who had no way of
getting food without their help. Without complaining they loved and cared for the woman like
she was their own family member. By this time it was getting dark and there was no way they
would be able to make it to their farm before nightfall. They decided to spend the night at the
hospital and hope that the patient’s family would show up soon so that they could get back to
their farm.

The next day they woke up and made their patient some busoma for breakfast. They made a few
phone calls hoping to find out where this woman came from but after having no luck returned
to her bedside to talk to the physician who was making rounds. The doctor told them that the
patient’s stroke was severe and she was not likely to survive. The man and his wife sat down,
trying to figure out what to do. The thought of leaving this woman alone at a hospital with no
one to care for her and pay her bills was out of the question. This woman was their “neighbor”
and the only acceptable option for them was to take care of her until her family arrived or she no
longer needed to be in the hospital.

Days went by and the woman showed very little progress. The man and his wife stayed at her
side and took care of all of her needs as their precious bean crop sat untouched in a field, half a
day’s walk away. The days turned into weeks and they didn’t complain, they continued to smile
at the doctor making his rounds every morning and spent their afternoons cooking food, washing
clothes, and emptying bed pans, all for a woman who they didn’t even know. After three weeks
the woman passed away quietly in her sleep. Her family never showed up. The man and his
wife mourned the loss of this stranger as they paid her hospital bill and gathered their belongings

to make the long walk home. After thanking the doctor for his service and saying goodbye to
some of the patients with whom they had become friends, they stepped out of the hospital gates,
ready to return home and resume their regular lifestyle.
Once again I am wondering what type of standard we use to measure wealth. People living in
the United States and other “wealthy” countries would never be able to afford the time to take
multiple days out of their busy lives in order to care for a complete stranger. I, for one, would
never be willing to make such a big sacrifice, especially for a complete stranger. But here, In
Burundi, the second poorest country in the world, a man can take almost a month off of work
with no advance notice in order to do what he believes is his moral responsibility. Hearing about
this man reminds me about one of Christ’s stories. Jesus said:

“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho when he fell into the hands of
robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half
dead… A Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he
took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine.
Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. The
next day he took out two coins and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he
said, ‘and when I return I will reimburse you for any expenses you may have.’”

“Go and do likewise.”

The med students we met at Kibuye didn’t get that teaching point yet. We were working with
the fifth year medical students; this sounds like they should know a lot. However, in Africa, the
first four years is like an undergraduate degree in science. The students we met were fresh out
of their basic science teaching and thrown into an unknown world of disease, nursing protocols,
European shame-based learning, and most importantly, patients with whom they had no idea
how to communicate.

We decided that the students needed a basic understanding of the history and physical. For
the next month, we pounded into them the understanding that a history is perhaps the most
important tool a doctor has. We even gave them homework; something no muzungu doctor
had ever done before! We walked through taking a patient history in class as Will and I acted as
patients. When the homework came in, we saw an improvement, but noticed that they still did
not quite get it. This time, we gave them another assignment: find a patient of their own and do
a complete history and physical. And, we decided we would test them! They had to perform a
basic 15 minute physical exam in front of us on another student. The worst part, in their minds, is
that we made the history and physical exam due on the same day (3 weeks later)!

As time moved on, we gave more lectures on how to ask about what brings someone to the
hospital, their past medical issues, surgeries, medicines, even their spiritual beliefs. We began to
notice that their morning reports were slowly improving as they integrated what we taught them.
They began to tell us when the symptoms began, what made it better or worse, the quality, if it
radiated, the severity, when it was better, what the patient thought it was, associated symptoms
and other important details. The physicals started to include general appearance, listening to the
heart and lungs, feeling the abdomen, and pinpointing other important abnormalities. Then the
day came for them to turn in their homework and do the observed physical. To our amazement,
they mostly did a remarkable job and we could see the improvement from the previous
homework. We were excited to see the change and looking forward to what can be accomplished
in another month.

About one fourth of the students could speak English well. Another fourth was mostly fluent.
The third fourth had some difficulty, but could usually express themselves in English. The last
fourth had a great difficulty with English, but got better as time went on. Their classes are
taught in English so we did not feel bad making them use English, but we had interpreters as
needed. As Hope Africa University serves many different Central African nations, some of the
students were from Kenya, the Congo, Rwanda, Uganda, and Tanzania. Surprisingly, some of
the students did not even speak the language of Kirundi and had a hard time talking with patients
on occasion.

Most of the students were actively involved in their home churches. Either their family is part
of the Free Methodist organization in their home town or they had been raised in the church.
Others were new Christians and found Hope Africa University as a way to pursue what they
thought God has called them to do. Still others may not know much about God, but they are
taught every morning before morning report when they hold devotions. One weekend in church,
the students sang a Kirundi – English mix of “Lord I Lift Your Name on High.” They ended their
time in Kibuye with prayers for their future studies, compassion for their patients and for safety
of travel both on my part and theirs.