Day 9 Story 8-- Hidden Treasure

It was one of those things that I felt I had to do before I left Burundi.  There was a little wildlife reserve just outside of Bujumbura, the capital city.  When I say little I mean little. You could easily walk across this piece of land in 20 to 25 minutes.  It had once boasted quite an array of wildlife: all different kinds of antelopes, primates, birds, hippos, crocs, as well as other plains animals such as zebra.  I was there to find treasure of the animal variety.  

Rumor has it that the world's largest crocodile once lived there.    From the only video footage ever captured of him by a Belgian herpetologist, Patrice Faye, this monster croc is said to be between 25 and 30 feet long.  Throughout the city of Bujumbura people say that he has eaten hundreds of people and even taken direct machine gun fire as he patrols the banks of Lake Tanganyika.  

 Is it just urban legend?  Hard to say.  I once met Patrice Faye high in the mountains of Burundi in a pygmy village. I think he was as surprised to see me as I was him.  We were distributing clothes and sharing the message of the cross.  I'm not quite sure what he was doing, but he was convinced that Gustav was a very real crocodile still very much alive, at least as of 2008.   After watching the video of this massive croc, I wanted to see him.  I expressed desire to see the giant reptile to some friends.  

They suggested I visit Gatumba Nature Reserve the last place he was said to have been seen.  So just months before I  left Burundi I jumped into my vehicle and drove to the front gate.  It was no more than a twenty minute drive from where I used to live.   There I found that the entrance fee was very reasonable because hardly anyone visited the park anymore.  Most of the animals had been wiped out during the war.   People needed food and anything that moved was served on the menu.  Nevertheless, it was still standard policy that a guide accompany me in the car, not so much for the wildlife as for the wildlife with guns that could be hiding in the bushes.  

Having grown up in Kenya, where the animal varieties are endless, and the adventure of exploring the great National Park systems by yourself still figure among my top five most enjoyable activities, I was reluctant to have a guide.  Especially a drunk one who reeked of the local brew, but rules are rules, and maybe this was the right man to help me find Gustav.  

We started the drive down the sandy trail.  Ironically enough, my guide's name was Stephen.  I found out that he was a Congolese refugee who had been living in Burundi for several years to escape the pillaging rebels in his home area.  He lived in Gatumba the little town on the Congolese Burundian border where I almost got shot one day with a good friend of mine from the US.  However, that is a different story for a different day.   I asked him about Congo.  About his family.  About why he had turned to the local brew.  He was hurting deeply from wounds of the past,  poverty of the present, and hopelessness for the future.  He saw no way out.  As he shared his sob story that just about everyone in Burundi had I suddenly remembered my mission for the day: Find Gustav.  Remembering my real quest I shared about my desire to see the legendary monster.  

He laughed.  The croc hadn't been seen in years and he speculated he either had died from age or was on a circuit around the longest lake in the world and might reappear sometime in the future.  Disheartened, I asked what other animals there might be to see.  His prognosis wasn't too bright.  There were egrets and hippos.  I laughed to myself.  In Kenya, we had egrets in our backyard and hippos in almost every river and lake in the country.  Not to mention that just a few months earlier a hippo had interrupted our volleyball game right there on beach of Bujumbura.  

I turned the vehicle around to exit the park.  Nearing the gate, I felt as though I had wasted a day chasing after imaginary crocodiles in the heart of Central Africa.  Then it happened, very slowly, but surely. My heart became aware of heaven's purpose in that moment. My steps had been orchestrated of the Lord, not to find a crocodile but a prodigal.  I asked my new found friend if he knew anything of Christ and His great love.  He had heard the message years before, but it had never really made much sense. I continued to share.  Just moments later heaven came near and Stephen began to cry.  We prayed together.  Before parting company I told him about the little church we had just planted in Gatumba pastored by my dear friend from Congo Gerard Cizungu.  He promised to check it out. 

A couple of weeks later I called Cizungu. 

We were talking about several different matters.  

"A strange thing happened missionary." 

"What was that Cizungu?" I asked politely. 

"A man that I have been praying for during the past several months came to church this past Sunday and said that he met a muzungu (white man) who told him about Jesus." 

"What do you mean you had been praying for him?" I asked rather surprised.  

"His wife comes to church here and we have been praying for him to find Christ." 

My heart leapt inside of me.  I had been searching for a hidden treasure- Gustav.  Heaven had been searching for a different treasure- Stephen the animal guide who had a handful of faithful believers crying out for him.