No room at the police station

By Sue Johnson, Habitat for Humanity South Africa

We know that by participating in a Habitat for Humanity build we have the opportunity to touch people in a way that would not otherwise be possible. We know also that many lessons are learned on a Habitat construction site and staff and volunteers always come away with a new respect for those living in poverty.

But sometimes something totally unexpected happens and we are drawn into situations that will both challenge us and reward us through the experience. It is my pleasure to introduce you to the tiny miracle of one such Habitat build.

Through the Thrivent Builds-Habitat for Humanity International alliance, a team of volunteers from Lutheran churches in the United States and Canada was building as part of an AIDS Orphans and Vulnerable Children project in Ntshongweni near Durban, South Africa.

The build was going extremely well and the two teams were working really hard to finish the walls of their new houses by the end of the week. Volunteers were laying block, mixing cement and joking with their builders and crew leaders. It was mid-afternoon when a policewoman from a police station next door to the construction site ran up to volunteers building on the first house and screamed for someone to help her. In all her excitement she explained that a young women had come into the police station and was about to give birth and she did not know what to do.

And this is where the small miracle begins. Building on the first house was volunteer Jean Burrows from Canada who at the last minute had joined the Lutheran team along with her husband Ross. In the early ‘60s, Jean had worked in obstetrics in the labor and delivery ward of a hospital in Ontario.

With her heart racing, Jean grabbed a pair of rubber gloves from the first-aid kit and, together with a few other lady volunteers, rushed to the police station.

“My heart was pounding,” she said. “I just rushed to the young girl’s aid.”

Arriving at the police station the Habitat volunteers were guided to the rear of the building where they found 16-year-old Thembelihle Dube in the advanced stages of labor on a mattress in the long grass. The baby’s head had already crowned.

Jean got down on her knees comforting the young mother and gently gave assurance that all would be OK. Within minutes, tiny Njabulo Dube (meaning “happiness”) was delivered onto the mattress. Working quickly, Jean cut the laces from Carla Whitson’s construction boots and Shara Cunningham quickly washed them to remove the cement and dust. The laces were then used to tie the baby’s umbilical cord and Njabulo was placed gently on the chest of his mother and covered with a blanket.

News had spread quickly and while the volunteers waited for the arrival of the ambulance Gogo (“Grandmother”) Maria Moyo arrived to see her great grandson for the first time. The adrenaline, relief, joy, happiness and tears of the volunteers greeted Maria as she gazed down upon the small bundle. She thanked Jean and her team of ladies for helping her granddaughter.

Njabulo was taken with his mother to a local hospital. Visiting the family the next day, Gogo Maria welcomed us with open arms and again thanked Jean for everything she had done.

How amazing that Jean was only able to come on the build because someone else dropped out at the last minute. How awesome that Jean had the very skills that were needed at that moment in time. How incredible that all the volunteers involved were women of deep faith. How biblical that for tiny Njabulo there was no room at the station and so he was born on a mattress upon long grass!

For our volunteers, the experience will be one never to be forgotten. For communities living in poverty without many of the resources we take for granted, the sudden birth of Njabulo is one more daily challenge they have to face.

We pray that God will bless tiny Njabulo Dube and we give thanks to God for our amazing Lutheran partners whose compassion and love for the orphans and the poor has become a beacon of hope in a community decimated by the AIDS pandemic.

South Africa volunteer journal