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Tuesday, August 20, 2019

Caravan of Selves 5: 29-35 years 1973-1980


1973-76 Hillcrest School, Jos, Nigeria.
I have a jumble of memories about these first three years in Nigeria: homesickness, culture shock, new friends, teaching from an American curriculum (with textbooks even for the younger grades!)

Hillcrest is school for missionaries children and other children whose parents want them to have an American education. It covers all the grades from 1-13. Many of the children live in hostels run by the ten missionary societies who also share the staffing of the school. (At least that's how it used to be. The current school website suggests only two hostels now.) Although I have dozens of photos I'm disappointed that most of them are poor quality. Over the years they have faded and don't scan well. This was before era of digital photography!!
4th Grade class. My first year at Hillcrest.



Of course we had to learn about NZ!


Middle school building where I taught 8th Grade for next few years.
Once I settled in to new routines and got over the culture shock (both of Nigerian and American culture!) I had wonderful years in Nigeria. I made many new friends - both school staff and SIM women in the apartment block I eventually moved into. We often went on picnics together and celebrated each others special occasions.
In my apartment. A birthday dinner for Diane my next door neighbour.

Climbing rock formations in surrounding countryside.


Martha Underwood (Principal) and Fluffy!


Stopping for morning tea en route to...?

Jos had a large water reservoir that was a great place for walks and enjoying water views.
8th Grade Bible Class girls round for a games evening
In 1974 Mum and Dad came for a visit. Dad was on the SIM Council in NZ so a trip to SIM stations in Nigeria was arranged. It was wonderful to show them where I lived and worked. They saw more of  the whole country of Nigeria on their trip than I ever did.
Mum and me outside my upstairs apartment.

Dad with Pastors at one of his speaking engagements.


Visiting John and Ladi at their home. John was my "house boy".

A village pottery.




During one of his meetings in Jos, Dad had what seemed like a TIA (small stroke) in the middle of his address to SIM leaders. It was terrifying to see him unable to continue. One of the men had to go and help him from the stage. Fortunately there was a good mission hospital in Jos where he was well looked after for several days until pronounced OK to continue his trip around the rest of the country. It must have been very scary for Mum wondering if it would happen again.

1976. Furlough and Dad's death
I was due for furlough in 1976 and arrived home on 21st June (mid-winter!!). Mum and Dad had retired to Waikanae while I was away but came to Auckland to welcome me home.

That evening there was an SIM council meeting. I encouraged Dad to go as I was jet lagged and wouldn't be much company for the evening. Mum, Dad and I were staying in a bach near my brother Peter's manse in Whangaparaoa. I woke in the middle of the night to discover Mum anxiously saying Dad had not come home. I put clothes over my pyjamas and went out looking for a phone box to ring Peter. He came and took us back to their place. We called the police. Gwenyth looked after Mum while Peter and I were told to drive slowly the route Dad would have taken. The Police would start at the Baptist Tabernacle where the meeting had been held and meet us if anything was found. They pulled us over in Takapuna and told us Dad had been found dead in his car in the Tab car park. We were then taken to the mortuary to identify his body. That was a horrible experience.
We got back to Whangaparoa in the early hours of the morning.

Apparently Dad had prayed the closing prayer at the SIM meeting and gone out to the car and died (presumably of a major heart attack) before starting the engine. He was only 67. It was a very fitting way for Dad to die but a pretty hard way for me to spend my first night home!
The last photo I have of Mum and Dad together. Taken at Easter 1976 by a friend of mine.
The funeral was held in the Baptist Tabernacle where Dad had been minister for 8 years when we first came to NZ. So although it was all terribly shocking we were grateful that his funeral could be there and many of the Tab and Bible College friends were able to come.

Going back to their 'new' home in Waikanae with Mum was very hard for both of us. I had never been there and Mum had left with Dad and the expectation that three of us would return. They had turned Dad's study into a bedroom for me...

During my 6 month furlough I had to decide whether to return to Nigeria or stay in NZ to support Mum. It was a pretty tough few months. I was in a new environment in Waikanae with no networks of supportive friends as I would have had in Auckland. After a couple of months of just surviving Mum was keen for me to go and stay in Auckland for a while - which was very generous of her. She was also keen for me to return to Nigeria as planned. That's the kind of person Mum was. No subtle hints that she hoped I would stay. I'm sure it was best for both of us that I did go back but it was not an easy decision. It was a great blessing that my sister Merrie and brother Andrew also lived in the area with their families so I knew Mum would be well cared for.
Family farewelling me back to Nigeria.


1977-79 Back to Nigeria
It was good to get back to the familiar territory of Nigeria and Hillcrest School. I have trouble now separating these two and a half years from the earlier years there. That probably doesn't matter. I continued to teach in the middle school (Grades 7 and 8). I had my own home room class but also taught English, Health and Bible to other middle school classes. Friendships with staff, Nigerian friends and other SIM missionaries were rich and broadening of my perspectives - theologically and culturally.
Ines Penny with local women

Me, Martha and Lois at 8th Grade ball!

My lovely yellow Bug! Borrowed from furloughing missionaries

In those days being a career missionary meant that you would probably stay "on the field" until you retired. But during these years I began to feel that that wouldn't be my story. It was as if my roots were being loosened but I had no idea what for. I know I sometimes thought "I'd love to teach adults".

Then totally out of the blue I received a letter from David Stewart - Principal of BCNZ. He prayed for all "his" graduates and said he was aware that when I did my training there had been no Theological degree available. So he was writing to ask me to prayerfully consider returning to BCNZ to do my BTh and MTh studies. Would I consider teaching in the Diploma classes and thus paying no fees? Writing this now it does seem amazing that this invitation came exactly when I was feeling "my roots being loosened".

It was in some ways not an easy decision. It felt a bit like deserting the role I had been committed to. But in the end it really was very clear that God was in this. So in 1979 I bid farewell to Hillcrest and the many friends in Nigeria and headed back to NZ. I had no savings or household equipment. When I left for Nigeria my basic supplies were shipped from NZ in two or three 44 gallon drums. Furniture and other essentials had been accumulated from missionaries going on furlough or retiring. I seem to remember I came back with just two suitcases.

1979-80 Transition back to NZ
These were transition years back into NZ. At first I was accommodated in a room in the single women's quarters at BCNZ. That was good given that I had no furniture or household items. I felt homesick for Nigeria and my own flat and my friends. But to some extent BCNZ was a familiar place and I did have some support networks in Auckland.

In 1979 and 80 I completed my BTh studies. (I had been given one year credit from my earlier diploma study.) To my surprise I was awarded the Felix Arnott prize for heading the First Class Honours list and the David Garnsey Scholarship for advanced theological study. This was an unexpected blessing in helping me financially for the next two years of study.

During this time I was also teaching diploma classes in Christian Education, Christian Doctrine and New Testament. It was often strange to be sitting in a lecture as a student and then getting up to be the lecturer of the next class. I was never quite sure if I was thought of as student or staff. I do remember students often seeking me out as "not quite staff" to listen, empathise and pray. The benefit of being accommodated with them and having had missionary experience was a plus.