Our Last Few Days in Nigeria

Jide, his youngest child -- only daughter, Grace. Wife, Iyabo.
Lilies on one of our balconies.









Jide, Jim, and Michel -- having a good laugh!













Jim's last day in his office.














Notice the spelling on our cane chair ... but the shippers did a great job of packing!









Farewell party with some girlfriends! They gave me this custom made vase with an inscription on the bottom.





















We use candles every evening because the power fluctuates so much. This is what was on our coffee table prior to packing! It is a sight I often enjoyed but never photographed until now.



















Our compound, from out of our living room windows.

As I learned from watching numerous missionary slide shows as a child, everyone must end with a sunset!
They are rare here. (Yes, the sun does set each day, but it's usually nothing spectacular. This was an exception!)



Well, the day has finally arrived -- the day that we say "tomorrow we are leaving!" It's a day we've anticipated for a long time but it's also been a time of sadness. Good byes are never easy but the good byes here are especially tough because we know that our dearest Nigerian friends will probably never leave Nigeria and we will, undoubtedly, never return. Therefore, this side of heaven, we will not see them again.

I just called Lucy, our Port-Harcourt maid, for our last visit. She thinks of me as her "momma" and looks to us for advice (and money! ;-) ) so it's tough to leave her. We've given our gifts to "our men" -- Michel, our cook, and Jide, our driver. We'll see them bright and early in the morning (4:45 a.m.) when we leave for the office to take the company's airport bus. But our more meaningful goodbyes have been said already because we know we'll probably all be pretty incoherent in the morning! Jide, ... he's the toughest of all for us to leave. What an amazing guy! We will stay connected with him and his family. I know that Jim and I will each shed tears tomorrow when we say our final farewell to him.

We are so thrilled that God has guided us to new jobs for Michel and Jide -- for good pay and with good people. And our beach hut sold to a guy who's sooooo jazzed to have it! And our flat is going to someone who's been wanting it since they arrived here half a year ago. God's hand is all over everything and we are leaving with a sense that all is settled as best it can possibly be!

The entire week in the office was a scattering of daily goodbyes. Tough stuff, really.

As I've told so many, Nigeria will always have a place in our hearts. Our ears will perk up whenever we hear any news from the place.

I believe the sadness we feel in leaving is largely due to the helpless and hopeless condition of this absolutely crazy country. Most of the locals just hope for the best but expect the worst. The worst would be another civil war (highly unlikely) or a revolution (more probable). Actually, most people believe that those scenarios would not be negative because they have hope that war would bring about positive change. For them, the worst option would be for everything to remain as it is --- abject poverty for most and vile opulence for a few, corruption squeezing out the rare, honest, hard-working folks.

I've told Jim so many times -- if I thought we could actually make a difference I'd stay here and die of old age here. But change will only come from local, God-honoring men who are strong leaders and, most importantly, men of integrity. "Scarce" would the Nigerian word for that description!

We will always remember Nigeria -- in our hearts and in prayer.