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I once travelled with a group of three adults and seven teenagers to visit a partner congregation in Malawi. I was the only member in our group to have previous experience of sub-Saharan Africa, so I was leading the trip.
Changing flights in Nairobi, we discovered our connecting flight to Lilongwe no longer existed, and there were no others until the next day. Nairobi Airport is a busy and noisy place, with flights from all over Africa and the Middle East. We had to make an unscheduled stop over, but we had no visas to leave the airport and enter Kenya because we were only supposed to change flights there. It took several hours of negotiation to resolve the situation, and to be transferred to a hotel for an overnight stay. The awareness of being responsible for other people’s children when we were all briefly stuck in a developing country without the right papers suddenly overwhelmed me, and only really eased when we got back home several weeks later.