Since my last newsletter we have officially made our first
pouch of baby food at the factory. When
I was hired to come and work here, my boss had pitched the idea working side by
side with a dozen U women everyday peeling carrots and becoming part of their
life. For two years I have been tasked
with every sort of random job, a million miles from anything I know of have
studied – from advising on buying expensive food production equipment,
designing our factory ventilation system, reading government standards and
writing our Standard Operating Procedures and performing time studies on how
long it takes to peel a carrot – but in none of these jobs did I have a local
women at my side. The hope was there,
but the planning took a lot longer than I expected. There were many times along the way that I
wondered if spending all my time and energy sitting in the office with my boss
planning in English would really have an impact on the kingdom coming in this
place. Sometimes keeping the hope alive
in the midst of the daily grind was difficult.
But with the making of our first pouch came the opportunity
to bring in several village women, many who would have troubles finding work
elsewhere, whether due to their age, or physical impairments. It is hard work training them about hygiene
issues in the factory, explaining it clearing in their language and finding the
balance between being the boss and being a friend. Even culturally I have been having to
relearn and understand this people group, because the vast difference between
the urban and rural population. Since out first pouch in November I have seen
my relationships with these women improve.
As we start to notice what jobs they thrive in, and encourage them in
those areas. We are still long bringing
them in occasionally for test days, but even in that I can see our relationship
start to bloom. We keep asking that
Father would use the factory and its place in the community to bring last
change, not just in the lives of these ladies, but in their families and
neighbourhoods.

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