It is Chris' fourth time in court. Over the previous six or seven weeks he tried to support the Indian seaman arrested and imprisoned in Westville in every possible way.
From where Chris watches the court proceedings, sitting on a small court bench, he watches the man that he got to know better over the past weeks, as he enters the court. His body is taught with fear and anxiety. The anxious body language is clear and he fears the verdict of the proceedings.
How can one blame him? He finds himself in a foreign country where he has no one, locked up in a terrible and cold cell, sharing the small space with thieves, crooks and drunkards. Every second is a frightful nightmare.
It is often said, jokingly, that all in prison are really victims and that they are really innocent. In his case it is actually true. He was arrested with one of his colleagues because of immigration problems. The owner of the ship that they joined is of questionable character and did not use a shipping agent to allow them to join the ship in the correct or normal way. Their legal representative is truly angry and makes no bones about telling all that are willing to listen that the men are nothing more than pawns in human trafficking. Their biggest mistake was to be trapped in a situation based on promises of work. The promised work would help them and their families to escape the curse of poverty. They have nothing.
The tension in the accused's body could also relate to the fact that his colleague had been sentenced unceremoniously, at the second hearing, for one year of imprisonment.
In court another drama unfolds. The owner sent a lawyer and now the lawyers are fighting each other to each get his own way. Then, in one sentence the judge throws out the case. Seven weeks of hell ends with a single phrase.
Chris and the legal representative wait outside for the seaman. He walks out with a soul in rags and tatters, but bows in front of them and touches each ankle lightly with his fingers. It seems that this is an Indian tradition to thank them for their help and support. It is a moment that cannot be described in words. More good news is that his colleague was about to be released too. They have nothing more to show than the emotional damage suffered. They remain dirt poor and still need to be rescued.
Chris' involvement was never merely to free them from prison, but also to show them the care and love of Christ that can help to secure their freedom from guilt and sin. It is your donation that helps us to do this and that donation will help us to continue to do so. Thank you so, so much for that.
EFT: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA Bank. Current. 1520-230-226.
'Ringleader' would be a perfect description. He is small of stature, but has a wild shock of hair and a life-size personality. That personality makes him king of the dining area, commanding it as if it is his own kingdom. You cannot miss him. He is friendly, warm, self-assured, full of energy, loud and all try to be close to hear the wisecracks and practical jokes. He is a main character on the ship, even though his rank is much lower than that of many of his fellow crew members.
He also takes care of Danie - makes sure Danie has something to eat and drink, that he gets sustenance in the middle of the day. When all are fed, the men leave the area one by one. The last man standing? None other than Adrian.
He starts talking about this and that - small talk. Then, very slowly, the barriers start to tumble. There is a very different man behind the mask of the jolly joker that Danie first met. The ringleadership tends to be a little pretence, although it does not detract from the honesty. The rest of the crew clearly enjoys the ringleader and they tap energy from this. His personality is a gift that allows people at the table to talk and enjoy the time together. There is so much more to Adrian than the eternal joker that everybody knows...
Adrian tells of fear, extreme loneliness in spite of the huge following surrounding him. He explains about feeling small and overwhelmed on the giant ship and majestic oceans. By his own admission, the shock of hair and being the joker are only ways to make him feel bigger, stronger and more in control.
Danie's visit is an opportunity to let go, a rare chance to just be without pretence, without worrying about making jokes and trying to entertain everyone else. Danie's visit and their chat provide, for a moment, the rest beside the calm waters of Psalm 23. They read together from the new Tagalog Bible that Danie gives him. Danie also marks Psalm 139 and Isaiah 43 for him. They pray together - for calm, for not being afraid, for the constant awareness within Adrian that the God of Isaiah 43 remains with him, every single moment. When they say goodbye, Danie also gives him his number so that he knows that there is someone to reach out when things begin to feel overwhelming.
It is so often so - also for us ... the fear and the loneliness are hidden behind barriers. If each of us only had a chance to talk to someone every now and then, to feel the calm waters of Psalm 23, to catch our breaths, to recover for a moment.
Men working at sea do so in extremely difficult circumstances. They could have this access to someone if you continue to strengthen our hands with your financial support. Please consider, also in your prayers, helping us to continue to support Adrian and every seaman that needs us to be there and serve them.
EFT. Bank account: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226.
The PSD’s story shows twist after twist. The CSO has been involved with the decrepit wreck, now anchored in the Durban harbour, for almost half a decade. Conditions on board are inhumane and terrible. Two Indian crew members, Mahesh* and Arjun*, try to survive on a ship without basic necessities such as electricity and water. A sporadic charitable payment by the owner is way too little and charity from others keeps the two men alive.
They are not the first two men on board. Time and time again another hopeful new face, reflecting big dreams, arrives on the quay from India or Pakistan, only to find out it was a lie. They were conned and they become immediate captives. Going home is not an option. They have nothing and therefore no other choice - they have to stay. Long, extended legal processes, driven by organisations such as the CSO, finally become their only lifelines to create possible escape from exile.
Time and time again the new faced tell that they paid their agents up to U$4000 for work on a ship. It is blood money - human trade! They would have had to borrow the money from somewhere, planning to repay the loan once on board the ship. In some cases they mortgage the parents’ small piece of land - an act that could uproot and destroy a family completely. A whole family’s dreams and hopes vest in the seaman and they are willing to risk everything they have to secure a better future.
Last week, Chris visits the ship again. Their mobile chargers were left in the care of the security personnel at the gate. By now Chris knows the security staff by name and the men report that the two have been gone for a few days. Chris turns detective and finally gets in contact with a previous crew member. He reports that the two are in jail.
Chris’ search leads him from the Durban Central Police Station to other possibilities. It seems that one of the men was there, but he had to appear in court. Chris follows the crumbs to the Westville Prison. Finally he finds them in jail in Umzinto. One of them had been found guilty and already serves a year’s sentence. It had to do with their immigration documents. The case of the second man was postponed to find an interpreter. He stands dejected and disillusioned in court. How did things deteriorate to this point? Chris can only hope that he would be deported, but fears a similar lot as that of his friend.
Meanwhile Chris is all that they have here in South Africa. Just as the CSO has been caring for years, looking after seamen that are being exploited mercilessly, Chris will do everything in his power to get them out from behind bars. He will continue to support them unconditionally, with the love and hope that we learn from the Man of the Cross.
Your donation is a lifeline for Mahesh and Arjun. Do not underestimate the value of that. Thank you so much for strengthening our hands to look after those that some consider the least of the least.
EFT: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA Bank. Current. 1520-230-226.
Charting the migration of a Bible: Richards Bay, Port Louis, Colombo, Singapore, Hong-Kong, Shanghai and then a U-turn. Shanghai, Ho Chi Minh City, then Chennai and Djibouti. Pirates, pirates, pirates, pirates, Suez, Piraeus, Barcelona... Marseille. Now Lisbon. Atlantic Ocean, a terrifying storm, waves as high as mountains, breaking over the bridge of the ship. New York. Rio de Janeiro. Engine trouble. Buenos Aires and another U-turn. Now Panama channel. Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle. All aboard infected with some germ. Tokyo. Four days from a doctor. Hello Shanghai. Three trips to Perth, Lagos or perhaps around the Cape. Then back to Richards Bay. Then again, and again, and again and again, until this very moment:
‘Sir’, with a massive smile and open arms. ‘Sir, it is so nice to see you again!’ honestly, excited, a surprise that a reunion is possible after so many years. ‘It has been twelve years, Sir’, he says with a wide smile, big eyes and a lot of excitement.
Loffie cannot believe that a man working at sea, whom he met twelve years ago is standing in front of him. For Loffie the first meeting twelve years ago was not a remarkable meeting and he has to search in the recesses of memory to find the right connection and remember the situation.
For the seaman the memory comes easily, because the day was remarkable for him. He has to show Loffie something he says, just before storming excitedly and inspiringly into the bowels of the ship. He returns in a moment with something that looks like a very old Bible. The clean pages have not been clean in a long time and the corners are dog-eared and well touched. The Bible contains photos of everything important in the man’s life - everything he prays for each day. On the first page is a date, written in blue ink, with the word ‘Richards Bay’ and a faded stamp of the CSO.
We chart a full circle to trace the migration of a Bible. For a moment we are reminded of the travels that this Bible accompanied. Just think about pirates, storms, sadness, joy. Think about health and illness. Think about bitter longing. Also remember the absolute joy when you are reunited with those reflected in the pictures, when you are received with open arms and tears of joy.
This is the journey of a single Bible. Would it not be fantastic if we could trace the hundreds of Bibles the CSO places in the care of so many hands at sea each year? How wonderful would it be to trace the migration to the corners of the world? How fantastic would it be to record each story?
Now Loffie sits with a friend, sharing coffee and talking about twelve years, the ebb and flow of life, while the seaman (now a friend) bears witness that the Bible, that Bible, helped him each moment to cling to God.
When you decide to stay part of the CSO family, you become involved in something valuable and unbelievable. You become involved in serving Jesus Christ’s mercy, peace and love to reach, literally the ends of earth. Please consider supporting us again - in prayer and deed!
PS. Our bank details are: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226. Here is the link for the debit order: https://bit.ly/43khwDO
Carl’s story is bitter-sweet. Looking back at a career spanning decades, there is the sweet of a thousand adventures working at sea, over the length and width of the globe. He could write a book about exploring foreign and exotic destinations across the world, places most of us can only dream about.
But, the bitter is choleric. He is almost due for a home visit after about nine months at sea. Years of not being there tempered the expectations of his family and it changed him into the uncle that sends a monthly cheque in the mail. His not being there normalised to a situation where he is simply an essential addition to his family and their existence. When he voices this realisation, his face betrays the deep hurt of his own words.
The sadness of missing a life with his children is overwhelming, now after so many years. This time he will return home to a house where only his wife remains. Their last and third child just left home to start his own life. For years Carl believed that there would be an opportunity to spend more quality time with his family, but it never came. There was always another account to be paid, or an urgent reason why he had to cut short his holiday and return to the ship.
Suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, the hourglass is empty. Although he has a good relationship with his family, their conversations and chats are based more on duty than pleasure. It is superficial. All know that dad will return to foreign shores in a few days only to return for a blitz visit months later.
‘If only...’ is the self-recrimination and despair. ‘If I could only sacrifice each adventure for a second chance...’ he wishes. With every sentence the bitter intensifies.
Nico of the CSO listens quietly to Carl’s story. Without judgement or blame, Nico can ask the right questions. He can open the door to other possibilities just a fraction. He can convince him that hope remains, because Nico knows that the Man on the Cross, the Man that gave his life for each of us, gives second chances. Despite Carl’s challenges and self-recrimination, there is a bigger presence with him, to walk with him, comfort him and offer him guidance - if he were to open his heart for this. Nico offers him another perspective to consider for a moment. Sometimes unbelievable new things grow from total hopelessness.
When they say goodbye, Carl smiles because - also if it is just for a moment - he believes that he had started on a road to healing and self-discovery despite his sadness.
Our donors give us at the CSO each day an unbelievable chance to listen to the men working at sea and their stories. We can remind them, each day, of the One that always opens other doors - just when we think there is no escape. On behalf of Carl and every man working at sea, we thank you!
EFT: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA Bank. Current. 1520-230-226