WHEN West Devon Pastor Colin Bond recently returned to Rwanda he was delighted to see how the church congregation had grown since his first visit in 1998.

In those days people were coming to terms with the genocide that left the country running with blood and virtually every family mourning its dead.

'The exit of refugees and death toll left 40 people remaining in the church — which is run by pastor Sidiki. Now there are more than 15,000,' said Colin, who is Pastor of Tavistock Community Church, known as Kings.

On his recent trip he went with Kings colleague and leader David Palmer. They presented Sidiki's Family of God Church with a minibus paid for by money raised by Kings members and others in West Devon.

Colin and David also visited church leaders in Congo, Burundi and Uganda as well as Rwanda where, through interpreters, they taught at congregations ranging from groups of a dozen up to 600. The Tavistock visitors also interviewed on television and radio.

Kings has developed a special relationship with Sidiki and his church. It began when Sidiki and his wife Violetta visited Tavistock and invited David and Colin back Rwanda.

'We asked what was the greatest help we could give. And they said "teach us vision — we don't know where to go from here,' said Colin.

The solution has been 'networking' a modern word for growing satellite churches run by their own leaders.

'If you can get the people to lead instead of the leader leading you have something more able to withstand the pressures placed upon it,' said Colin.

'So we are networking lots of small churches rather than building a big church. By developing small churches and spreading leadership you develop more leaders and also other ministries — evangelists and teachers and prophetic people.'

Colin has a great regard for the Rwandan people who are struggling to rebuild their lives after the overwhelming traumas that devastated their country.

He says both he and David are held in high regard by their hosts. 'They give us respect and honour more than we are due. I feel embarrassed.'

They visit as friends of the Africans — not as an organisation, and this, Colin believes, makes a difference.

'These people have been decimated by genocide. Every family has seen death and every family is bereaved. Most whites go in as a self-contained group and give their service — which they do well. But we go in as friends and give ourselves in friendship.'

He says in the old days missionaries set up classrooms while the Africans 'sat in rows and were good'.

'Then someone shot the missionary and no one knew what to do. That is why we are getting everybody involved so they will all develop skills rather than just the man in the front.

'Africa needs this approach because things are going so fast you cannot cope in the old system where you go to college for five years and come back with a theological qualification.'

It is a country of willing Christians — something Colin believes has much to do with the bleak experiences and expectancies of its people.

'This is a land where life is not certain. Not many people live past middle age. If you want a doctor you might have to walk 50 miles to see one. If you are too sick someone carries you — and if you have no one to do that, you die.

'What they have been through, and the lives they lead, does provoke spirituality, an awareness of God and life after death because these people face it. We don't hide death in this country but we closet it away in hospitals and hospices. Out there they die in the yard.'

If visits like his recent trip can do anything positive Colin likes to feel it is to give hope.

'They hope in God and heaven a lot more than we do because they have very little else to hope for. There is between 70 to 90 per cent unemployment and no welfare. One third of the people have Aids and there is quite a bit of promiscuity.

'If they can live a life of loving relationships and peace their resources won't go into aggression.'

Despite being invited to offer help with the embryonic Family of God Church, Colin has always been conscious he must not impose his opinions on the Rwandans.

'There are eight women to every man. What do I teach? Do I preach one wife — or no more than eight? So, I don't teach anything because I don't feel I can. One hundred years ago a missionary would have imposed our western values on them.

'But I'm more than 60, and conditioned by the environment that I live in — so what right do I have to impose that environment on them?'

What he can do is what he does — encouraging people to help themselves.

A gift much appreciated by his adopted pastoral 'family' in Rwanda.