Tanks, Taps and Lent

In Lent each year I like to give something up and to do something proactive. The combination of these disciplines reminds me of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem, where he actively moved towards a goal, with the knowledge he was giving up his life.

A Lenten still life.

Taps, plumbers tape and my coffee plunger. 

This year the fasting half of my Lenten discipline was coffee. A coffee with breakfast in the village is part of my ritual that starts the day well. Giving it up was hard. Going on the YWAM ship during Lent, where they had good coffee easily available made it harder. Still, my daily reminder of sacrifice was a part of my Lenten journey.

The active half of this year’s Lenten discipline was to work on providing taps for the community tanks in our village. I think that was the harder journey!

Water can be a challenge in our village, with very few people having private tanks. I am one of the few and struggle with watching the women walk past to the bush well when I have water on tap in the house. There are two public tanks in Ubuo village, but both of them are broken. One tank has no lid and no tap; therefore no-one has plumbed it with gutters to catch water from the nearby school roof. The other tank has a broken tap, so although it is full of water, it cannot be accessed except for catching the drips from the tap. My Lenten idea was to fix these public tanks with working taps so that the community could have water, and my conscience would be eased over my private tanks.

In planning and ordering taps for tank repairs, I also visited the neighbouring village, Mira Goiravi, to find out the state of their community tanks and was shown three tanks. One had no tap, no proper base and no catchment area. The discussion was that if I provided the tap, they would organise the rest. The second tank had a spectacular jury rig of a tap that I hoped to improve. The third tank had a huge hole cut into it where a drunk had one day attacked the tank with his knife. This is a good illustration of the benefit of NGOs helping to provide multiple small private tanks: one idiot cannot deprive the community of life giving water.

 Bush mechanic jury rigged tap.

With my information gathered, I sent measurements and requests to a friend in the Highlands to send parts down on a flight. The parts arrived while I was on the YWAM ship and I was ready to install them when I returned to the village. While I was on the ship, I found out that one of the crew, Simon, had a particular interest in helping communities fix their tanks, particularly through the provision of taps. It is a sad fact that tanks are too often provided without a tap, meaning they are of no benefit to the community. When YWAM did a clinic in my village, Simon was able to come along and make sure I had all the necessary parts for my impending tank repairs. I spoke with leaders in the community and told them that once our tank had guttering in place, I had the tap ready to install. In the next village it was a similar tale, that once a foundation and guttering were in place, I had the tap ready. Everyone seemed pleased to finally have their tanks on track to being functional.

Fast forward a few weeks and I am back in the village again. It has been dry and people are walking past my house to get water from bush wells. I ask people in the village what is happening with the tank preparations, as I am standing by with taps.  In my village, the school maintenance has been focussed in another area. They are reinforcing the floor as it broke one day as there were too many students in class. The gutters will happen ‘later’. When I ask about ‘later’ it turns out that people do not know where the guttering that was in the office has gone.

In the next village, I am quickly finding out that two of the three tanks I was initially told are community tanks are actually private. Only the useless tank with the big hole belongs to the community. One of the private tanks was supposed to be public, but has been claimed by the largest family in the village. The village magistrate and others talk with that family, suggesting that if they are willing to make it a community tank, I am willing to provide a tap, but they are not willing. I have made it very clear that I am only providing taps for tanks that service the whole community, not for individual families, so I find myself with two spare taps and no repaired tanks in the neighbouring village.

Testing the tap for size… we then removed
it until the gutters were in place.

Fast forward a few months, and a phone call from the village tells me that the tanks are still not repaired. The school tank still has no gutters, so the person who I gave the tap to has not put it on. He is someone I trust to keep hold of the tap until the tank is ready. The other tank, with the broken tap, is still full but unusable. People are not willing to empty the tank to replace the tap. So that tap and tank also sit unused.

When I think about the women walking into the bush to get water from the well I am sad. Before I felt guilty because I had my own water supply, but now I am sad. Sad because the resources are there to fix the community taps, but for complex reasons beyond my understanding, it has not happened. I am sad because I suspect it is largely the politics of men that keep the women doing the hard work. Sad because I wanted to bless the community, the women in particular, and feel like I have got nowhere.

This exercise in taps and tanks started in Lent and continues well beyond Easter. I sought to bless people, but have been prevented. This really leaves me with a lot more of Lent to reflect on, as Jesus too sought to bless yet was, and is, rejected by so many. If I grieve over taps and water, how much more must God grieve over those who reject the eternal water of life.