“Mama, come! Quick! Suku has been admitted to Central Hospital!”
The day was 6 September 2019. I had to sit down to take in this call. What was that? Nobody had told me that my daughter, Sukoluhle, had fallen sick, though I was aware she had been experiencing bouts of depression. It brought small comfort to keep asking questions. I had hardly unpacked my bag from another trip outside the Zimbabwe borders where I usually go and buy rice which comes to that country from Tanzania, then I repackage and sell to augment means of living. I stood up, packed a small bag and went to catch a bus to Bulawayo from Harare where I live.
All the way, I was overcome by an overwhelming swell of thoughts and emotions. A few days before this call, I had had a vision where I was surrounded by a smell of death. I cannot quite explain what and how, but that was it. I could not get that out of my mind. So, then, I did what I used to do with my late husband, Osborn. Widowhood has never stopped me from praying, but instead it has strengthened that resolve. Though I thought of that vision with a sense of foreboding, I had prayed deeply. I said, “Lord, you have shown me this but have given me no interpretation of it. I pray for revelation. I leave what baffles me in your capable hands Lord. You said we should cast our burdens to you for you care for us.” Now with this predicament, I quietly went to Him and said, “Lord, they say Suku is in a really bad shape … she can’t talk nor can they make sense of what she says… you know it all. Nothing is hidden from you Lord.” And so, the whole trip consisted of snippets of prayer. I pondered over the doctors that were on strike. I brooded over the lack of medicines and medical equipment. Would my daughter survive all these hurdles?
Though Suku had been taken to the UBH, she was transferred to Mpilo two days afterwards, where her neurosurgeon worked. She was paralysed on the left, and her left arm was limp. We also learned that she had blood clots in the brain that posed a threat to her life. I would visit very early in the morning daily, clean her up and feed her. I stand in awe of the Lord God. I am now 68 years old, but God gave me the strength I needed even when I was overwhelmed with fatigue.

                                                                                                          Suku at Mpilo

Then another bombshell came. Suku needed to go for a scan, and Gallen House quoted US$800.00. My head spun. I went back to the Source and cried, “Lord, you know I don’t have that sort of money. But I know that the earth and everything in it belong to you. Cattle on a thousand hills belong to you. Silver and gold are yours. I have nothing! May your will be done Lord! May the scan be done Lord! All things are possible with you Lord. There is no Doctor like you!”
I phoned all the relatives. Miracle of miracles! Within an hour I had all the money required. Small wonder Jesus rebuked his disciples for lack of faith. I had prayed, but the prompt response threw me off balance. My steps were light, and my heart sang endless praises as I went to collect the money from Western Union, then proceeded to Gallen House, to make the payment for the scan. While I was in the payment queue, I was phoned by one of the Doctors in the panel that attended Suku. He was relieved that I had not yet made the payment. He said I should proceed to Mpilo. At Mpilo, I was told that it would be possible to get the scan done there. Though the doctors were still on strike, the one who did scans was available. To me, God made him available just for Suku. That was cause for joy.
The doctor at Mpilo said, “Mam Mpofu, we have sat and agreed that Suku should be discharged. She will come for reviews from home. We have noted that with you, she is in good hands. We know she will have a good support system. You will need to bring her for reviews and also for physiotherapy. So, she can go home now. We need to free space for more critical patients here.” The Doctor wrote the prescriptions for the medicines Suku would take, and she was discharged on Monday, 14 September 2019. 
I asked that a fruit cake be baked to celebrate and thank God that Suku had come out of hospital. The cake would be delivered on Saturday morning. God’s abundant blessings just never end. When Suku went for the scan on 25 September 2019, it only cost 200 bond notes. I was ecstatic! I could only just gape in amazement. I lifted my arms in surrender. Results took a little while to come out. When we went for the results on Saturday, 12 October 2019, the scan was clean, showing that the blood clots had melted. Nkosi yami! (My Lord!) All this called for killing-the-fatted-calf, and indeed, when we got home, the cake was there. We sang praises, testified, prayed and just basked in the goodness of the Lord.
In one of the physiotherapy visits, the hospital chaplain preached and prayed for the patients. That day, he ministered about the woman with the issue of blood and her breakthrough. He stressed how God never leaves us alone. I saw Suku  jump as he ministered. She also went forward to be prayed for. I witnessed something that I still wonder about. The man prayed deeply with tears rolling from his eyes though I never saw where they fell. It was a little scary. I felt God’s presence as he prayed. I had no doubt healing was taking place. At the end he said, “This child will say her testimony in song!” And Suku is a praise and worshiper. I could only say, “God, you are marvellous! Thank you! It is done!”
After almost six weeks in Bulawayo, I requested the Doctor to allow me to take Suku to Harare, as I felt the ministers’ wives that I taught sewing classes at the United Theological College might lose out due to my absence. The request was granted. Suku continues to undergo physiotherapy and she has improved a lot.
As if the Suku episode was not enough, my last son was shot by robbers and bundled into the boot of a car and we did not know where he was for two days, towards end of October. He is another miracle case that is still recovering. Trials and tribulations never end, but God has been enough for me.
  It would be amiss not to mention the angels God used to ease our burdens. Suku has friends in the US who were led by Noma Nare and mobilised into action when they heard about her predicament. They helped raise the money that was needed for the scan, and their providence helped my son who also needed a scan. Noma is on a special diet that I would not otherwise manage. The aid from the angels continues to sustain Suku’s needs. I also thank God for all the other relatives, friends and Trinity Methodist Church who provided help and support in different ways. God is surely my ever-present help in need. He is the all sufficient One for me.

(Note: UBH – United Bulawayo Hospitals)

Thanye and Rev Osborn Mpofu had five children. She was widowed 12 years ago. She enjoys five lovely grand-children, and continues to be active in church ministry.