It’s complicated. That’s just one way to explain what working in warzones is like. Complicated. Convoluted, complex, tricky.
Take, for example, sending supplies to Our Father’s Cleft is in the Nuba Mountains of Sudan.
The school year in Sudan begins at the end of January and runs through early December. We have a small window between Feb-April where we are able to truck in one whole years’ worth of supplies.
Food. School books. Building materials. Medicines. Whatever has been budgeted for that calendar year that is not available for purchase locally is bought in Kenya and trucked 1,000+ miles to Sudan. Very little is available locally.
After that window closes, the rains come, and it’s simply not possible to get in or out. The communities are quite literally cut off from the world.
Because of the war, Nuba is a no-fly zone. That means airplane food drops are not an option to consider.
Because of the lack of infrastructure in South Sudan and this region of Sudan, there are no roads or bridges for the trucks as they haul the food in. That means ‘off-roading’ in a 40’ truck. Have you ever been off-roading in a jeep or a four wheeler? Picture that, imagine a good bit bigger, and trust it’s way more complicated.
No roads, no bridges also means the ground must be dry and the river beds must be empty.
Although Khartoum is closer in distance than Nairobi, Kenya (where the food is purchased and trucked from), because of the active genocide enacted upon the Nubans food isn’t trusted from the north. “It may be poisoned.” Even if our staff provided the food acquisition oversight like we do in Kenya, I can’t say that I blame the fear.
In advance of this one small window, funds have to be raised for a years’ worth of supplies and the cost to truck it there. That is also no small feat as New Life Ministry and Hope For South Sudan also need their ½ year food supply at the same time.
Did I mention it’s not easy to find drivers that want to tackle the month long journey in to a conflict zone to off-road a 40’ truck and trailer? Please forgive me for not expressing that sooner.
If I can be frank, it’s even more complicated than this—but these broad strokes also help paint the picture.
What’s not complicated is that it’s worth it. I am 100% certain of this. Amna. Mohammed. Ibrahim. Junia. And hundreds of other precious lives. Totally, unequivocally worth it.
It also underscores why the mission of LUV is so needed. It’s why the children are so vulnerable. It’s the reason we go to serve in warzones. It’s why our indigenous leaders and African staff are pivotal to the mission by navigating complicated systems and quite literally “non-systems.”
It’s also why you’re essential. Your generosity is how hope is spread. It makes the way for redemption and healing.
So we continue this mission. We deliver Love to the most vulnerable; despite how complicated the journey will be. Love is the reason we’ll do it again next year. And the year after that. As long as we are able. As long as we are needed.
We have just one month left to send supplies. Our window is here.
If you haven’t given yet, please give generously to help us cover the costs needed.
If you have given already, please help us find other givers that want to lift up the vulnerable in this world. My team and I especially like to talk to corporate sponsors, churches, foundations, individuals, schools… referring a friend is an important way to advance the mission of LUV.
Please pray for the drivers on the upcoming journey. Please pray for their families that they leave behind. Please pray for our family in Nuba that these drivers head towards to nourish and equip for the year ahead.
You’re needed in this complicated totally-worth-it mission to the most vulnerable in our world. We all have a part to play. The act of lifting requires strength. We are strongest when we work together. Join us.