The Karagwe Seminar

The purpose of the trip to Africa earlier this year was to provide a time of training for pastors and church leaders. Education is a precious resource to which the average Tanzanian has little or no access.

The average family lives on an income of around $420 per year. The cost of one year of study at a local seminary extension is a modest $150 per year. Yet this annual fee places training and study opportunities out of reach for the majority of Tanzania church leaders.


The trip to Karagwe carries us down rough and winding dirt roads. As the van climbs to the crest of one hill we are afforded a view of successive hills fading into the distance. We pass thatched roof houses where people live in the most primitive conditions.

At several points children in uniform line both sides of the road walking home from a day at school. As our van speeds by I’m left to wonder if they aren’t in danger from vehicles careening from side to side in the loose dirt as they hurtle past. Driving in this country is absolutely chaotic and yet we do not see a single traffic accident during the entire 17 days.


We pass a young man herding long horned cattle. As we snap his picture from the sun roof of our van he calls to us in Swahili wanting compensation for the privilege.

At our destination we check into the guesthouse that will be our home for the next week. The lodging is simple and efficient. The greatest difficulty encountered the first couple of mornings is that the odd and quirky groundskeeper turns the water off before we rise. This makes flushing toilets and showering impossible. It also teaches me that my hair can be washed, my face shaved and my teeth brushed with less than 16 ounces of bottled water.



Our group is joined by Tanzania pastors who will serve as our interpreters. Working with these men is a rare privilege. We share breakfast each morning and dinner each evening in the dining room. Meals are mostly cooked out doors on wood fires. The conversation and fellowship shared during these simple meals is a gift I will always treasure.


The seminar is hosted by a church in a small town just a few miles away. The participants are already gathered in its interior when we arrive. We are greeted by the sound of rhythmic singing. The place is alive with vibrant voices. Bodies sway to the pulsing beat which seems to emanate from the hearts of the people themselves.


We are welcomed with smiles and nods. An occasional pat on the back is felt as we make our way down the aisle to places reserved for us at the front of the church. Following this initial time of worship on Monday evening a woman walks up to me as if to initiate a conversation. Instead she extends her hands and lightly strokes both sides of my face. It’s a wordless and humbling expression of thanks for our coming to spend the week with the people.

Each morning begins with a time of Bible study. The day ends with a time of worship. In between we lead sessions on personal matters (personal Bible study, prayer life, moral integrity, sharing one’s personal faith), church matters (how to prepare sermons, how to counsel people, how to resolve conflicts, spiritual leadership), and family life (married life, parenting, resolving conflict in the home).


The people sit for hours on wooden benches without backs. They listen intently as if you are the greatest teacher in the world. Some days it’s hot. Other days clouds are blown in by a chilly breeze. On those overcast afternoons the light begins to fade and referring to teaching notes becomes difficult as there are no lights.


At midday the entire group walks to a local restaurant for lunch. Many separate dishes are prepared for our enjoyment and passed around the table family style. The owner passes by a tray of scorching hot peppers. The squeamish decline but I munch a few with the meal. When appreciation is expressed to the proprietor he immediately offers to provide me with a supply to take back to the States. Immigration officials will not allow this but I just smile and say, “Asante (thank you).”


During the planning stages for this trip a number of people wanted to participate in some way. One individual provided funds for the printing of Bibles in Swahili. They were printed in Tanzania and delivered for distribution to the seminar prior to our arrival. We were also able to provide a children’s Bible to each family with children.


A women’s group provided a hundred or so skirts to be distributed to the women. Another group sent at least that many pot holders. Someone thoughtfully crafted a number of butterfly pins which the women wear with pride. A collection of donated baseball caps is distributed to the men.

We also take Polaroid pictures of each participant to leave with them. We discover during the planning stages of the trip that the film is becoming more difficult to find. With the advent of digital cameras stores seem to be phasing it out of their inventory. Africans cherish pictures as they have so few of them. One of the best ways to draw a crowd is to pull your camera out of the backpack and begin taking pictures. They delight in seeing their image captured in the device.


Most sessions open with a time of singing. A young man named Paschal provides leadership for this portion of our services. We express appreciation for his services at the end of the week by providing a scholarship for his next year of study at the seminary extension branch.

At times he starts a familiar hymn recognizable by the tune. Though we sing in Swahili the selection is known by heart. Participating is fairly easy as we are given a hymnbook and pronunciation in Swahili is pretty consistent. In my days as an undergraduate voice major we were required to sing in French, Italian and German. I learned to pronounce the languages though I had no idea what was being sung. This is very similar.


My favorite songs are the uniquely African compositions. At times I gather that the group is asked for someone who will start a song. Someone at random sings the first line of a song and then everyone joins in. Many times it’s clear that the song has a repeating chorus but the stanzas are reserved for individuals who compose the words on the spot. The spontaneity of this musical offering is especially refreshing.

The kindness and courtesy extended to us is remarkable. The warmth and sincerity of the people is obvious. Their spirit and enthusiasm is contagious. From our first meeting our group is made to feel at home among family.

After this first service I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that our interaction will bring significant changes within. This will be a week to remember.