BROTHER MATHIBE

Over he early years we had some interesting experiences with brother Mathibe. The church where he ministered was the host of the first conference, I had the privilege to attend after I arrived in South Africa. Douglas was on the river and we stayed in a small country hotel on its bank. I remember that the dividing walls between the rooms did not reach the high ceiling so anything said in one room was public news. There was a wash stand in one corner of each room. We quickly discovered that the water was straight from the river. As it has been raining heavily, the river was running strongly with muddy water, and Gladys Randall in the room next to ours went to wash her hands and found muddy water flowing into the basin. We knew then and there that we were in trouble. We dared not drink that water, for the African township was situated on the other bank and there were no toilets there. They quite often used the river or a convenient wall as a toilet. Our drinking water had to come from Kimberley. That was not easy, as there were dips in the road which were flooded by the heavy rains. The guests at this conference were mostly sleeping side by side on the floors of the homes of the church members.

Brother Mathibe was an elderly man even then, and he continued to preach for a good long time. The Mathibe’s had several children, many of whom died one by one of tuberculosis. Our brother had it as well, but he absolutely refused to go to the Tuberculosis hospital in Kimberley. He had the opinion, common to many, that one went to the hospital to die.

Brother Mathibe had little education and could barely read his Bible. He became a minister during the years when there were no missionaries there and came to classes to study now that there were. What he lacked in education, he made up in sincerity. In those days, it was the custom to ask at least one minister from each tribal language to be on the program and every effort was made to, in time, ask all ministers to preach. After a few years he was invited and he asked me to help him prepare his sermon on the assigned subject. I prepared a full outline for him, expecting him to flesh it out with his own words and experiences. I learned then and there that what he needed was a word for word message. He read the outline!

He was to accompany us on one trip to a distant part of his circuit. When we arrived to pick him up for the trip, we found him with the children of the Sunday school. They were in a small hut with no ventilation, wall to wall small children, and they were singing at the top of their lungs, “Lord, wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.” Annette had baked cookies and sent along a big bag to give us something to eat as we traveled. Our brother was the first to be offered some, and he kept the whole bag. So much for our refreshments. He probably thought we all had bags.

He was a great believer in prayer. On one occasion as I was teaching a class in the school, he was in the next room, a dormitory room, praying. He was not only praying aloud, but at the very top of his voice. Until he finished, there was little teaching being done in our classroom.