Pastor Minga was the oldest of three brothers and it was said, the most respected member of his family. His parish was the village of Kampungu site of the initial Ebola outbreak. Like a good shepherd Pastor Minga didn’t abandon his people when the deadly epidemic swept through his village killing over 150 people. In fact he had a habit of visiting the sick, consoling and praying for them even as they were dying.

His younger brother Kwete, lives in a village called Bulape, around 40 miles north of Kampungu. I imagine he didn’t hold the same status as his older brother. He married for the first time when he was 19 years old to a woman named Mayinda and she gave him a son. When Kwete extended his meager farm he took on a second wife, Mabinghi, to help with the planting and sowing of crops. Two weeks ago his brother, Pastor Minga sent a message that he was sick and Kwete traveled to see him. His brother was quite ill with fever and bleeding from many parts of his body. During the next four days Kwete cared for him in his home; bathing him, feeding him, and cleaning up after him ... until he died.

Kwete returned home to his two wives and his small plot of land the day after he buried his brother. Five days later when Kwete developed the same symptoms, he asked two friends to carry him to the Presbyterian Mission hospital, six miles away. During the four hour walk his friends stopped several times for a break while Kwete continued to pass blood. When his wives became tired; they put his 2 year old son atop the handmade stretcher as well. Kwete died six days later at Bulape Presbyterian Hospital, as his brother had two weeks earlier in his parish home in Kampungu.

I flew to the Bulape mission hospital, the day before Kwete died, in response to an urgent call from doctors and nurses to bring in supplies and isolation material as well as protective clothing for hospital staff. On the 4-hour flight from Kinshasa; I stopped off at the American Baptist hospital in Vanga to pick up essential supplies including cartons of White Cross bandages, gloves, and gowns that Vanga wanted to contribute towards the epidemic.

The Bulape mission hasn’t had a plane land in quite a while and as we landed on the grass strip nearly every child and person in the village was lining the airstrip pointing at the plane. Most excited were two young women holding hands and pointing my way……..Kwete’s two wives.

They asked me if I had brought a cure for their husband. I hadn’t. Later we talked outside the isolation ward and I shared with them that there was no cure for this disease, only hope. Unfortunately Kwete died that next day. My current concern are those he left behind; his two wives, his young child, two friends who carried him, and 14 other people who had close contact with him while he was ill. They are all at high risk of contracting this fatal disease themselves.

One of Kwete’s last acts was caring for his dying brother and I hope he is remembered for just that. My prayer and hope is that those who had contact with Kwete…..will not be remembered for the same.

When will the suffering and dying end?

Bill Clemmer