There was anxiety in her eyes. They nervously darted left and right. She tried to avoid this place after what happened. But here she was again, back at the river where she was attacked. Three years earlier, Pelekelo Mwampole and her sister Precious, were at this exact spot to collect water for their family - a chore they did
twice a day. This is common for people across Zambia. For half the year, the country is dry as a bone-parched, brown earth for as far as the eye can see. Especially since many rural Zambians are subsistence farmers, recent drought has made the situation even more dire. Crops won't grow, and families have a hard time sustaining themselves.
Without any clean water nearby, people find it wherever they can. On this day, Pelekelo and Precious were being asked to show Maranatha where they collected water: the Zambezi River. Their house is very close to the river, so it's actually quite convenient-only about 100 steps. Though the walk is short, the danger is immense, as predators roam the Zambezi and attack from time to time. It's also not clean - people get sick because of parasites in the dirty water.
This spot where the girls came each day was particularly risky. Away from the rushing center of the river, it's more swamplike here -- the water has a layer of green sludge that cloaks what may lie in wait below the surface. Pelekelo was noticeably stressed to be near the spot again. At one point she mistakenly thought she was being asked to approach the water (she wasn't) and shook her head "no."
On a similar day in 2021, the girls walked to the water as normal. The first trip was uneventful -- they filled their buckets and walked back to their house before returning for the second load. Having filled her bucket, Precious turned and started walking back up the hill. In an instant, she heard splashing and looked back to see only her sister's leg sticking out of the water. She knew it was a crocodile. She dropped her bucket, bounded to the water, and grabbed a hold of her sister's leg. She held on as the crocodile thrashed and pulled. After a horrific struggle, the croc finally let go and retreated. Precious dragged Pelekelo's limp body up the bank.
"I didn't want to lose my sister [right before my eyes]," admits Precious. "It was difficult. Even now it pains me." Their mother thought she was gone. "I knew that she was probably dead, because the crocodile, if he attacks, he doesn't spare," says Ruth Muleta.
Pelekelo was rushed to a hospital in the city of Livingstone, an hour drive away, where she stayed for around a month, her condition deteriorating. Finally, a generous woman sponsored her transfer to the capital city of Lusaka where she got the care she needed. She received numerous screws and plates in her arm and faced a long road to recovery, but she would live. Today, she still doesn't have great use of her arm and deals with constant pain, a reality that leaves her disheartened.
Though the accident took place three years ago, the scars, both physical and emotional, have left their mark on the entire family. Yet without another water source nearby, every day the family must return to the river where this disturbing incident happened. Hundreds of people in this area are subject to the same daily danger. But a simple water well would prevent such accidents, which was why Maranatha was talking to Precious and Pelekelo in the first place.
Maranatha was about to drill a well at the nearby Katombora Seventh-day Adventist Church. Already, dozens of people were gathered as the large drilling rig set up next to the church. Soon, the loud machinery roared to life, and children jumped back, startled, only to return, giggling. Everyone knew what this could mean: no more unsafe trips to the river. Clean water. No more sickness. People were excited. There was another well drilled about a half-a-mile away at nearly 200 feet deep, but there's a fee for that water, and most families can't afford it. The people were hopeful Maranatha could hit water at that depth, providing free water to all.
But as the drilling continued through the afternoon and into the evening, the team drew near to 200 feet, where they had expected to hit water. Those gathered grew eager, then anxious as the work continued down to 220, 230, 245 feet. "They said, 'Are we going to have water here?'" recounts Pastor James Nyundu. "They saw the driller drilling with [only] dust [coming up] during the digging ... The people were worried and were so quiet." Finally at 260 feet, the crew hit water. "When they saw that there was a sign of water, they became so excited. They even stood up - they were so excited and happy," said James.
The new well will transform daily life in Katombora. Gardens will be watered, thirst will be quenched, hygiene will improve. And importantly, safety will be restored when collecting water. "The well at Katombora will be lifesaving. Now the community members have access to clean water, which is absolutely free," says Maranatha's country manager in Zambia, Luke Johnson. "Also, they don't have to go back to the river to get water where there are
thousands of crocodiles inside."
This life-changing water also has a spiritual effect. Because Maranatha water wells are free to the entire community (many wells charge a fee that not everyone can afford) members and non-members alike can partake. "It'll be a way of evangelizing, making friendship with the people; because they know this same church, they're friendly with us. We drink water from their church. So it'll be an open door for evangelism because the friendship will now be linked with the people" says James.
So many positive effects in Katombora, all from something so basic as clean water. Yet there are many more, villages at risk along the Zambezi and other bodies of water throughout Zambia. People still making dangerous trips to the water without much of a choice. Maranatha is committed to continuing to help by drilling water wells in areas of need, spurred forward by sobering testimonies like Pelekelo's.
The Volunteer, Issue 1, 2025
www.maranatha.org
twice a day. This is common for people across Zambia. For half the year, the country is dry as a bone-parched, brown earth for as far as the eye can see. Especially since many rural Zambians are subsistence farmers, recent drought has made the situation even more dire. Crops won't grow, and families have a hard time sustaining themselves.
Without any clean water nearby, people find it wherever they can. On this day, Pelekelo and Precious were being asked to show Maranatha where they collected water: the Zambezi River. Their house is very close to the river, so it's actually quite convenient-only about 100 steps. Though the walk is short, the danger is immense, as predators roam the Zambezi and attack from time to time. It's also not clean - people get sick because of parasites in the dirty water.
This spot where the girls came each day was particularly risky. Away from the rushing center of the river, it's more swamplike here -- the water has a layer of green sludge that cloaks what may lie in wait below the surface. Pelekelo was noticeably stressed to be near the spot again. At one point she mistakenly thought she was being asked to approach the water (she wasn't) and shook her head "no."
On a similar day in 2021, the girls walked to the water as normal. The first trip was uneventful -- they filled their buckets and walked back to their house before returning for the second load. Having filled her bucket, Precious turned and started walking back up the hill. In an instant, she heard splashing and looked back to see only her sister's leg sticking out of the water. She knew it was a crocodile. She dropped her bucket, bounded to the water, and grabbed a hold of her sister's leg. She held on as the crocodile thrashed and pulled. After a horrific struggle, the croc finally let go and retreated. Precious dragged Pelekelo's limp body up the bank.
"I didn't want to lose my sister [right before my eyes]," admits Precious. "It was difficult. Even now it pains me." Their mother thought she was gone. "I knew that she was probably dead, because the crocodile, if he attacks, he doesn't spare," says Ruth Muleta.
Pelekelo was rushed to a hospital in the city of Livingstone, an hour drive away, where she stayed for around a month, her condition deteriorating. Finally, a generous woman sponsored her transfer to the capital city of Lusaka where she got the care she needed. She received numerous screws and plates in her arm and faced a long road to recovery, but she would live. Today, she still doesn't have great use of her arm and deals with constant pain, a reality that leaves her disheartened.
Though the accident took place three years ago, the scars, both physical and emotional, have left their mark on the entire family. Yet without another water source nearby, every day the family must return to the river where this disturbing incident happened. Hundreds of people in this area are subject to the same daily danger. But a simple water well would prevent such accidents, which was why Maranatha was talking to Precious and Pelekelo in the first place.
Maranatha was about to drill a well at the nearby Katombora Seventh-day Adventist Church. Already, dozens of people were gathered as the large drilling rig set up next to the church. Soon, the loud machinery roared to life, and children jumped back, startled, only to return, giggling. Everyone knew what this could mean: no more unsafe trips to the river. Clean water. No more sickness. People were excited. There was another well drilled about a half-a-mile away at nearly 200 feet deep, but there's a fee for that water, and most families can't afford it. The people were hopeful Maranatha could hit water at that depth, providing free water to all.
But as the drilling continued through the afternoon and into the evening, the team drew near to 200 feet, where they had expected to hit water. Those gathered grew eager, then anxious as the work continued down to 220, 230, 245 feet. "They said, 'Are we going to have water here?'" recounts Pastor James Nyundu. "They saw the driller drilling with [only] dust [coming up] during the digging ... The people were worried and were so quiet." Finally at 260 feet, the crew hit water. "When they saw that there was a sign of water, they became so excited. They even stood up - they were so excited and happy," said James.
The new well will transform daily life in Katombora. Gardens will be watered, thirst will be quenched, hygiene will improve. And importantly, safety will be restored when collecting water. "The well at Katombora will be lifesaving. Now the community members have access to clean water, which is absolutely free," says Maranatha's country manager in Zambia, Luke Johnson. "Also, they don't have to go back to the river to get water where there are
thousands of crocodiles inside."
This life-changing water also has a spiritual effect. Because Maranatha water wells are free to the entire community (many wells charge a fee that not everyone can afford) members and non-members alike can partake. "It'll be a way of evangelizing, making friendship with the people; because they know this same church, they're friendly with us. We drink water from their church. So it'll be an open door for evangelism because the friendship will now be linked with the people" says James.
So many positive effects in Katombora, all from something so basic as clean water. Yet there are many more, villages at risk along the Zambezi and other bodies of water throughout Zambia. People still making dangerous trips to the water without much of a choice. Maranatha is committed to continuing to help by drilling water wells in areas of need, spurred forward by sobering testimonies like Pelekelo's.
The Volunteer, Issue 1, 2025
www.maranatha.org