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After five years in my position at ���Ĵ�ý, I have interviewed dozens of alumni. Usually, this takes place virtually. So I consider it a special treat to meet someone over a locally roasted cup of coffee. But this interview was in a category of its own. My interview with Amy Collett, an educational ministry graduate, transpired over many days and in many settings in Mtsiliza Village in Malawi, Africa. This “interview” was a string of conversations and observations over a two-and-a-half-week mission trip. 

I witnessed Collett’s 4:30 a.m. coffee and reading in the quiet of the morning. I watched her rock her neighbor’s newborn baby before work. I heard the voices of children shouting her name, “Em-ee-lay! Em-ee-lay!” as her SUV clunked down the village streets each day on her way to the school. I observed Collett’s playful, effortless banter with vendors in the market in Chichewa, their native language. I noted the string of children who named her as their role model. I saw the normal, everyday, unseen and unnoted moments of Collett’s life. 

The sentiment that surfaced again and again was the idea that Collett is one of them. She is not the expat missionary who surrounds herself with other English speakers, lives in an upscale neighborhood and drinks bottled water. She speaks better Chichewa than some who have lived there for life. Most of her community consists of native Malawians. She eats zigege, a fried potato dish sold on the streets, and drinks water from the wells. She embraces the slow, laidback culture in Malawi and holds to the conviction that people are more important than getting things done. Ask her pastor, language teacher, neighbors, co-workers and students — they will tell you, “Amy is one of us.” 

An International Itch 

Before college, Collett had been immersed in cross-cultural relationships and experiences. Collett’s mom, Carol Collett has traveled the world, and her family has hosted dozens of exchange students over the last 25 years. 

“With my travel experiences and cross-cultural intrigue, I knew I wanted to do something overseas,” said Collett. 

Collett started at ���Ĵ�ý in 2012 as an education major, but the fast-paced program did not fit her laid-back personality. She transitioned to studying educational ministry with a minor in intercultural studies. She wasn’t overly concerned about finding what she would do after college, but she knew when an opportunity presented itself, she would take it. 

During Conference on Mission week her final year at ���Ĵ�ý, Collett connected with Go Core, a mission board helping to reach remote villages with the Gospel of Christ. She and a friend attended the group’s meeting that night. 

“Eastern Africa always intrigued me with the frequent wars in the region,” said Collett. “After the meeting, I looked on Go Core’s website and found ‘There is Hope,’ an organization working with refugees from all over East Africa.” 

The organization was seeking someone to teach English at Dzaleka Refugee Camp in Malawi, Africa, home to nearly 50,000 refugees.

“I just thought, ‘Eh, we will see what happens,’” said Collett. “So I applied and went through the interview process. Eventually, they offered me a position.” 

Prior to this, Collett had never heard of Malawi. She knew of Uganda and Rwanda, but the sub-Saharan landlocked country known as “The Warm Heart of Africa” had never crossed her radar. As citizens of one of the poorest countries in the world, more than half of Malawi’s population lives on less than $1 per day. However, the Malawians’ deep-seated joy in spite of their hardships is why Collett packed her bags for Malawi at the young age of 22 and hasn’t looked back. 

���Ĵ�ý of God

Collett began teaching English at Dzaleka in 2015. While the organization wasn’t the best fit, Collett fell in love with the Malawian culture. Her two-year visa came and went quickly, and as its expiration date approached, Collett knew she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the “Warm Heart of Africa.”

“I didn’t want to go back to the States,” said Collett. “I didn’t feel a sense of closure here.”

Collett’s coworker, Shupi Tatenda, knew Collett was looking for a reason to return. So before Collett departed for the States, Shupi and her husband, Titu, invited Collett to visit ���Ĵ�ý of God Orphanage in Mtsiliza Village, a faith-based organization the couple launched in 2012. 

At the time, the government enforced that orphanages send children to live with their living relatives. This meant the orphanage had to restructure to provide education and healthcare for these children in vulnerable circumstances. Shupi and Titu described their vision to relieve the burden for kids living with stepparents, a situation that often turns abusive. They would fund the children’s public education, provide supplemental English and Bible curriculum and ensure they had clothes to keep warm in the winter months. 

The couple asked Collett to return and help develop the new education framework. “I knew that it would be something I would really enjoy — both working with Titu and Shupi and being a part of that team — but also developing an educational system for the children’s benefit,” said Collett. 

After a hard year of reverse culture shock in the States waiting for another visa, Collett eagerly returned to Malawi. 

Within two weeks, she began taking Chichewa lessons. She quickly realized during her first two years in Malawi that she wouldn’t be able to form genuine friendships, understand the culture and be seen as one of them if she didn’t know the language. Sure, she could teach others her heart language — but she couldn’t meet others in theirs. So Collett prioritized this in her second term. 

Now fluent in the language, Collett serves as the school’s education coordinator, which means she oversees the teachers, the curriculum and the fundraising for the school of 50+ children. Collett relies heavily on the support of those at her home church in North Manchester, Indiana, to keep developing the school and securing sponsors for the children. 

Despite the teachers’ efforts, Collett says children still fall through the cracks of the education system. “It happens,” said Collett. “You can’t force someone to want school, especially when their surroundings go against it.” 

Power Over Poverty

Collett does not sugarcoat the realities of the country she loves. Last year alone, the country suffered incalculable loss from a series of tragedies. On the cusp of COVID-19 came Cyclone Freddy, the longestlasting and highest-ACE-producing tropical cyclone ever recorded worldwide. The cyclone wiped out two million farmers’ crops and 1.4 million livestock. This was shortly followed by the deadliest cholera outbreak in the country’s history, resulting in 1,500 deaths.

“Life is hard here,” says Collett. “I give people a lot of credit who go through it all and don’t turn to drinking and drugs.” 

Amidst the suffering and pain, Collett still sees the goodness of God. 

“I used to have a pretty narrow view of God,” Collett confessed. “The more you know about different ways of life and different sufferings around the world, the more you know — deeply know — and rely on Him as Healer, Comforter and Provider.” 

And I saw it too. 

I witnessed the ministry of Amess Nthala, a mom of three kids who was widowed at age 26, who has helped more than 400 widows persevere and trust God. I watched Mia B, a stalwart of selflessness, joyfully prepare nsima, soy and okra for the kids at ���Ĵ�ý, often their only meal of the day. I heard the voices of passionate praise reverberate off the tin roof of the church in Dzaleka Refugee Camp. I observed Shupi and Amy’s deep care as they met on the dirt floor of a young girl’s home to confront her accumulating school absences and offer her grace to correct her course. I noted Noel’s determination as an orphaned grade schooler who strives to be ranked first in his class and improve his English every day in hopes of becoming a pilot. I saw radical hospitality — tables so full that there was no room to set a plate. 

The truth is, this American woman would need far longer than two and a half weeks to know what it is like to be one of them. 

As time passes and my trip to Malawi becomes a distant memory, I still remember the words Amy shared with me as the sun was peeking over the horizon on our way to Mtsiliza Village.

“Most people come to Malawi for the first time with fresh eyes and only see poverty. After living here for several years, I don’t see it that way. I see some of the most powerful, strong and resilient people I have ever met. When suffering happens, they don’t sit around and feel sorry for themselves. They find a way to move on after hard things. Where people see poverty, I see power.” 

Learn more about educational ministry at ���Ĵ�ý.