Over the weekends we typically keep an airplane fueled and ready to go for urgent requests such as this. Even so, early on Monday morning I headed to the airport with more questions than answers. Would South Sudan allow me to enter their airspace since they started restricting international flights the previous Friday? Would the UN-controlled airstrip at Doro be open for me to pull out the SIM team? Would any of the passengers have symptoms? If so, what would happen to them? Would they be allowed into Kenya or would I have to take them back to South Sudan or some other country? Even if they didn’t have symptoms, would they be required to quarantine? Would I?
Thankfully the airstrip was operational and the weather was good. I had taken enough fuel from Bor that I didn’t need to spend any extra time on the ground in Doro. The stop was just a matter of loading the passengers and the little bit of luggage they carried. Within fifteen minutes we were airborne again, on a route back to Bor to have seven passports stamped out of South Sudan. Another 1.8 hours in the air, another hurried stop. From Bor we pushed on to Lokichoggio, a small, desert airport that serves as a point of entry for Kenya, and the place where the passengers would be screened for Covid-19.
Fortunately, on arrival in Loki, none of the passengers displayed any symptoms, so we were cleared to proceed quickly through immigration before departing on our final leg: Lokichoggio to Nairobi. Years of cultivating relationships at these various outposts helps us in more ways than we probably know. In this case, the airport staff both in Bor and Loki were incredibly helpful and sent us on our way as quickly as possible. This had a huge impact on the flight, and because of them we were able to make it all the way to Nairobi, allowing my already physically and emotionally exhausted passengers to complete the long trip in just a single day.
A final 2.6 hours in the air and we landed at Nairobi Wilson Airport at 5:47 pm. In total, we covered 1279 miles, nine hours of flight time and an eleven-hour work day day for me. It was the the most hours I ever logged in a day since beginning my career with AIM AIR. The next afternoon at 4pm, Kenya closed its border to all incoming international flights.
I later learned that for three of my seven passengers, this was likely their last flight out of South Sudan. For various reasons, they were headed back to their home countries to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. They planned to leave in a month, but suddenly that month was reduced to just fifteen hours. Fifteen hours to wrap up four years worth of ministry. Fifteen hours to pack up their whole house. Fifteen hours that spanned a night, not allowing much time for goodbyes with the friends whom they served and shared life with over the last four years.
These seemingly inevitable moments of uncertainty and uprooting can be some of the hardest for overseas missionaries. Often, it is in these moments that AIM AIR is most needed. We can’t give those missionaries back the time they lost, or forestall the grieving that will follow the evacuation. But we can show up, bringing in supplies or bringing them out when there are no other good options. We can serve them with our gifts and a measure of God’s grace in their most desperate hour.
