Noeli Luchivya knew something was wrong.
For several days she had been visiting her family in
But Noeli knew something was wrong almost as soon as she
boarded the matatu, one of the overloaded public transport pickups so common on
Her first clue that she had picked the wrong matatu came
when the conductor demanded her fare even before the vehicle rolled away from
the roadside. That’s not the way it’s done in
Noeli’s internal radar was further alerted when the unscrupulous conductor drastically overcharged her for the distance to be traveled. It was now apparent to her that her choice of matatus had been unfortunate.
When the driver of the rattle-trap began driving even more recklessly than is typical of such operators, passing against traffic and playing chicken with on-coming trucks, the normally calm Noeli switched her concern level from “Uneasy” to “Alarmed.”
“Stop!” she demanded. “Let me get off!” But the belligerent conductor refused, growing more and more surly when Noeli insisted.
Unexpectedly, two men in the matatu joined Noeli’s protest. “You are treating this woman shamefully,” they scolded the oafish conductor. “Stop at once and let us off, too.” Faced with a passenger mutiny, the bully grudgingly gave in and allowed them to disembark.
Before long the three travelers were able to flag down a saner matatu. Less than two miles down the road they came upon the twisted wreckage of the first vehicle and the battered bodies of many who had been aboard.
The real kicker in this true tale, however, is invisible to
most of us in
Noeli knows that, of course. So do her missionary employers
who have served in