Well…what should have been the beginning of a relaxing week in Jo’burg turned out to be a full on nightmare. I arrived at the Lilongwe airport way too early…and ended up having breakfast with two lovely gentlemen from South Africa, Sydney and William, missionaries visiting Malawi. We discussed our differing experiences over fried eggs and shared our thoughts and impressions of Malawi as a whole.

Interestingly enough, we had adjacent seats on the plane and continued our conversation on our flight to Blantyre. When we reached our destination, we had several hours to kill before our Jo’burg flight…so Sydney convinced us to hire a taxi in order to see some of the highlights in Blantyre.

I am usually neurotic about flights – and hate to leave the airport during layovers. But then another man, Angus – from Zimbabwe, joined our little group and requested to come along. So I acquiesced to peer pressure – and the four of us piled into a taxi.

Approximately 10 minutes into the drive, the police pulled us over at one of the many roadblocks and proceeded to harass our driver because he didn’t have the appropriate ‘taxi’ plates on his car. After much pleading, they agreed to let us go – granted they took the driver’s drivers license along with his insurance and registration stickers and told him that he needed to come to the police station to pay his fees and to retrieve his belongings after he dropped us off.

I took that as an omen and requested that we head back to the airport – especially since Blantyre wasn’t proving to be too interesting. But we pressed on…

Moments later…our driver, who was obviously distressed about the encounter with the police, was hauling ass (90 kph), completely oblivious to his surroundings. I watched in slow motion as the following events unfolded. In the distance, I noticed this man beginning to cross the street = I thought to myself, surely our driver sees him. And the pedestrian also seemed oblivious to the fact that a car was barreling towards him. Again, I thought – surely he will pick up the pace and run across the road. And before I could open my mouth to signal a warning to the driver, we hit him – head on at full speed. The sound of him crashing through the windshield and bouncing off the hood is still haunting. Horrified, I got out of the car to see if the man was ok. His head was smashed in, covered in blood and his body contorted in extremely unnatural ways. I felt helpless as I sat and watched him gasp for air. By this time, numerous cars had pulled over and rushed to his aid.

Blantyre does not have an ambulance (how can that be???), so the driver volunteered to take him to the hospital. We quickly retrieved our belongings and made room for this man in the back. But the way they picked him up and threw him in the back seat concerned me. He could have had serious neck and back injuries – but what can you do?

Meanwhile, the four of us were stranded on the side of the road – desperate to return to the airport in time for our flight. A driver took pity on us and offered to give us a ride. For once, I was grateful to hear that our flight was delayed….

I honestly don’t know if he survived. My mind could barely grasp what had happened. It reminded me, once again, how precious life is….how something as simple as crossing the road could end in tragedy. Even if he does survive, he will have a long difficult road ahead. And my heart also goes out to the driver – who’s life will be forever changed, too.

Much love to each of you,
Amy