He almost died.

I felt anxious and nauseous as the red sun descended. I can't explain it; maybe it was the apple I ate without cleaning it, but fear gripped my heart. Tears welled up in my eyes, as the front of the bus collectively gasped. The bus swayed from side to side, and then a sudden impact jolted us. Shouts erupted, we came to a stop and people began to exit.

We had struck a man.

I wasn't crying, but tears streamed down my face. I was shocked, confused, and terrified. Would these people seek revenge, or would they remain peaceful? All of us "muzungus" chose to stay on the bus. Olivia and Netanya wanted to help, but we advised against it. What if you get blamed, and you don't have licenses here?  Later the villagers informed us that two trucks had narrowly missed him earlier that day, and it seemed he wanted to die. We feared we could have caused of his death.

I frantically texted Remmy, "What happened? We hit a man, and he's bleeding from his head. What should we do?" Remmy's reply came swiftly, "Take him to the police or the hospital." So, we brought him onto the bus. A few minutes later, we arrived at a small clinic. They brought out a stretcher and placed him on the ground outside. I couldn't bear to look as they took him into the clinic; it reminded me too much of a similar incident last year in Zimbabwe. And so, we waited.

We waited for results.

We waited for the police.

We fell asleep.

I woke up to a fervent prayer led by a lady at the front. It was in Bemba, but I knew it was a prayer. "Jesus Cristo, Amen," I echoed with them, feeling a new found peace in my heart.

As one truck passed by, I prayed that the next would be the police.

Flashing blue and white lights; they were here!

Praise the Lord.

Three hours later, they had arrived and miraculously, the man wasn't dead. The police inspected the victim and the bus, and they left with the driver to examine the scene. They seemed friendly. Someone mentioned that the driver would still spend a day or so in jail, for his safety, as they took the driver away.

A few hours later, they returned with the driver and they took the man in a police car to a larger hospital, a few hours away. We slept fitfully. Sometime during the night, a man had a nightmare and was screaming, waking us all up. Roosters crowed. We went back to "sleep" in the bus until morning and continued our trip to Mpulungu. We stayed at the church that night, and after getting some better sleep, we loaded our supplies onto the boat to go to Crocodile Island.  This is just the beginning of our three-week medical mission and evangelistic series, with vacation Bible school for the kids, and evening talks for the adults.