It’s before 6am and the sun is yet to rise. We’ve slept in a
wooden shack underneath a tin roof, in one of the least developed regions of
the world. Despite these conditions, Adrian is up and sporting a clean and
completely creaseless pilot’s shirt, ready for our departure back to Juba. He
is of course British and I ponder whether any other nationality could maintain
such a formal demeanour in this tropical setting.
We’re flying another of the families serving with Cush for
Christ out of the country; Natalie, already a mother of two, is heavily
pregnant and will be giving birth in Kenya where the medical facilities are
much better. As we take-off from Malualkon, she is also hoping for a
‘weather-less’ day.
Adrian informs me that we need to stop off on the journey
back to Juba in order to take on some more fuel. If we start running low, he
tells me, we’ll have to fly slower. I ask him if running out completely means
we’ll be up here all day. We land at the town of Wau, an airstrip that has
recently been upgraded and tarmacked and the staff on the ground proudly inform
us that the runway is now 300 metres longer than the one at Juba. MAF flights
rarely stop at Wau, so we take the opportunity to tell the authorities we meet
about the organisation’s work. This friendly approach pays dividends when I am
given permission to take pictures of the plane refuelling. My colleagues in MAF
Norway run an extensive appeal to raise funds for the fuel that keeps MAF
flying and I know they will appreciate some fresh pictures to enhance this.
Taking off from Wau, Adrian and I start playing a little
game. It’s not “I-spy”, but counting the number of wrecked aircraft that litter
the sides of Wau’s airstrip. We finally agree on three. I discover later in the
day that many of these abandoned wrecks carried weapons during the war for
independence from north Sudan. The cargo was considered more precious than the
aging carriers that flew it in, hence those that hadn’t crashed on landing had
been abandoned and left to rust.
In Juba I say farewell to the Faris family and Adrian, and
simply lower myself down from one MAF plane and climb on board another. Once
again I’m allowed to sit up front as pilot Michael Dupuis prepares to take-off
for the settlement of Keew (my third flight of the day and it’s not even noon).
We’re taking a group of staff from Christian Mission Aid, an NGO which MAF
flies regularly, to this remote location. Space has also been made on board to
stash an 80kg freezer unit that will allow medicine to be stored at a
temperature necessary to keep it effective.
Plans for this delivery are complicated by the fact that
there has been rain in Keew and the runway may be too wet for a landing. There
is however another strip close by in Jaibor where we are informed that
conditions are dry enough. Two hours’ later, we fly over Keew and the muddy
wheel marks of an aircraft that managed to take-off yesterday provide a clear
warning that the ground is still wet. Jaibor it is then, a further five
minutes’ flight.
The clinics that CMA run in both Jaibor and nearby Keew have
been extensively resourced by MAF flights. Building materials, syringes,
medical gloves, medicine and more have all been flown in. Simeon, who oversees
the clinics, explains that bringing such supplies in overland would require a nine-day
boat journey. I furiously scribble down all that he is telling me.
We are invited for a bite to eat and the extra time spent in
Jaibor over midday is all valuable minutes for the airstrip at Keew to dry out.
The heat is stifling and initially I assume the local villagers are all
sheltering inside the ‘tukuls’ (mud huts with cone-thatched roofs) that
dominate the view. I am corrected by one of the CMA staff who informs me that
the earlier rain has sent people scampering to the fields for harvest preparations.
Potentially the shortest MAF flight in the world, we spend
five minutes travelling from Jaibor to Keew (it is however a four-hour walk
between the two settlements). The freezer is unloaded and we have to make a
swift departure. Juba airport has been known to close abruptly at six o’clock,
leaving us minutes to take-off if we are to get there in time. We arrive at six
on the dot, the last flight to land at Juba that day.
Back with the MAF team, we share a meal together. This would
be an ideal time for me to interview some of the group about the work that God
has called them to. The schedule of the last week and today’s five flights has
left me shattered though and I head for an early night.
