It was indeed “one of those days” in the usual sense, but it was also one of those days which contained so many of the things which epitomise life here, that it is worth recording. In later years, when I wonder “what did I do while I was in Rwanda?”, I will re-read this.
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The plan was simple enough – to take Sheena to the farm and then to go to the office. However, the previous evening our electricity suppliers and nemesis Electrogaz arrived without warning or invitation to change our meter to “cashpower”, a pay-as-you-go system they are introducing. We had to hurry round to their offices just before closing time to buy some credit, managing not to get too riled by the cashier asking us why we had come so late.
We arrived home, entered the numbers from the credit card only to be rewarded with an error message. Repeated attempts produced the same result and it was apparent that the 5kWhr Electrogaz had left us would expire some time during the night despite our best efforts at conservation (security lighting is a must).

A visitor staying with us attracted some other visitors at breakfast time, so it was 10am before I arrived at the Electrogaz offices. To their credit, they produced 2 technicians quite quickly, but no vehicle : I was expected to give them a lift to the house. Once there, Some 10 minutes of fiddling only produced the conclusion that we needed to return to the office to see the boss.
Naively, I stayed in the car expecting a quick turn-around, but after 15 minutes decided that the 2 needed some follow-up. I found them in a queue in the boss’ office, which took a further 20 minutes to be dealt with and concluded with us returning to the house, this time with 4 Electrogaz employees. Fortunately by now my sense of the ridiculous was engaged and I had renounced any hope of productive work that morning, feeling grateful once again for my earlier decision to postpone management training from the afternoon. This would have caused me severe stress in the current circumstances.
Our “work party” attracted a group of 5 kids from next door, plus our guard and a young man who sells crafts nearby. Fortunately, we have steps beside the meter, so everyone was able to get a good view, although there was more talk than action.
While the Electrogaz team was failing to repair the meter and then was putting the old one back, Modeste, our guard, approached me with Derek from next door as interpreter, to ask if he could chase the mice from the garden. “Not mice, exactly, they live in the ground and eat the sweet potatoes”. Moles (ifucu, in Kinyarwanda). Having agreed that they could do this, I took the Electrogaz team back to the office with electricity restored but the cashpower machine still broken.

After a morning of meagre achievement, there was a sudden burst of fruitful activity in the afternoon : a meeting at the dispensary to discuss the way forward with our AIDS Project, combined with a progress review on my severely septic finger; a discussion with the bishop on welfare policy; afternoon prayers for Holy Week.

Back home the mole catching was creating much activity and hope : traps, consisting of deep holes, wires and springy sticks were being dug. “Bring back the moles”, I thought, “they made a lot less mess of the garden than these traps”. Sheena was more concerned about being the first to find a dead mole in a trap and made Derek promise to check them early in the morning.

That evening our neighbour called in to check on my finger and also to talk about the UK team he currently has here working with children and using puppets to tell parables and gospel stories. The school holidays mean that the children of the family who are studying in Kigali are home, bringing a couple of friends, so it is 4 to a bed and more mouths to feed than I can easily count. His wife, also studying in Kigali, is coming home for Easter week-end and the 8 from the UK team have also been invited for Sunday lunch after a visit to the prison. This is African hospitality in action.