On June 14, I joined a group of more than fifty enthusiastic Anglicans from Zambia who had decided to travel to Zimbabwe by road for the Bernard Mizeki celebrations. Little did I know this would turn out to be one of the most adventurous and life-changing events of my life. I saw first hand, the deep faith among the pilgrims and their strong belief that nothing would stop them from participating in this annual event.

Of course I could understand the excitement. This would be the first time since 2008 that pilgrims would be gathering at the actual shrine for the commemoration of the martyr. In the past five years, they had only been able to meet at the show grounds that are about 11km from the shrine.

The lively group comprised mostly elderly women who seemed geared to sing throughout the more than ten-hour journey to Marondera, Zimbabwe. In fact, they did sing for a good portion of the journey. It’s probably these songs and the jovial and friendly mood on the bus that made the journey bearable.

What made the journey really memorable however was the determination and passion to get to the martyr’s shrine against all odds. The road between Lusaka in Zambia and Harare in Zimbabwe has some of the most dangerous curves, turns and steep escapements since it passes through a very mountainous region.

It is not uncommon to find wreckages of vehicles abandoned after overturning for failing to negotiate the sharp turns. Throughout the whole journey, we came across two large cargo trucks that seemed to have overturned a short while ago. Another huge intercity bus had been burnt to ashes. We were relieved to learn that all the passengers had escaped unharmed.

As if this was not enough, our bus had problems with the radiator, which seemed to have trouble retaining water while driving through the mountainous road. Many passengers sacrificed their drinking water just to see the bus to next town for mechanical attention. Throughout all these trials and tribulations, the enthusiasm among the Anglicans never waned. They were determined to participate in the celebrations.

At the shrine, the site that greeted us was far from what I had expected. Bellowing smoke and dust and shouts of joy welcomed us. It was clear people were anticipating our arrival and were equally relieved that we had made it. Thousands of pilgrims had already arrived. Since it was late in the night when we got there, many had already pulled out their blankets. I was amazed at the large number of those that were sleeping in the open air. Hundreds of tiny camping tents had been erected with only a few large marquee tents.

Since the shrine is located in Marondera, a very mountainous area, and June being the coldest month of the year here, the temperatures were so low I suspected it would be a challenge to make it through the night. That aside, we were warmly welcomed and introduced. The welcome alone was enough to make us forget about the long journey we had just made. Our team was even given an opportunity to sing a few songs to the crowd after a brief rest. I couldn’t help it but participate in the spirited singing and dancing.

Other groups came through to sing as well and it was lifting to hear the culturally rich cocktail of gospel songs throughout most of the night. Choirs came from Zimbabwe, Zambia and Mozambique but everyone else was free to join in the singing.

The following morning gave me a clearer picture of the situation. The area where people had gathered was a large leveled field at the foot of rocky hills. Part of the field was believed to have been the martyr’s kitchen and bedroom. With about 20,000 people gathered in one area the local community saw a huge business opportunity and set up countless restaurants and stores.

But perhaps the most revealing experience about Anglicans in Africa was the amount of faith and prayerfulness. When pilgrims finally went up the hilly trail to the hilltop where it’s believed Bernard Mizeki’s body miraculously disappeared, I couldn’t believe what I saw. Thousands of Christians burst in prayer, many of them placing one hand on the rocks in the area that the martyr is believed to have been ‘raptured’.

I can comfortably confirm that this place really felt holy. At this moment, I was not just the guy behind the camera, trying to capture the moment, but a participant in this enormous prayer session. One of the priests later whispered to me, “I wish this place could be turned into a place of retreat for all clergy.” I couldn’t agree more.

On the trail to the hilltop is a small natural spring whose water is believed to have been used to wash the martyr’s wounds when he was stabbed. It is believed the water has healing qualities and though its dirty, many Christians were determined to carry some in their water bottles.

Other sessions that I found inspiring were the healing sessions. I was amazed to find this high degree of faith in the healing power of God through prayer. I saw a man stretching his lethargic arms, seemingly feeling better after praying with a bishop from Mozambique. People queued waiting for their time to be prayed for by many of the clergy present.

The final and probably most important aspect that touched my heart was the warmth and friendship that young priests share with their flock. I found it easy relating to the priests from Central Africa who clearly seemed to share and understand the challenges that many of their followers face. I was impressed with how young priests related with one another and other people they meet. As a Catholic Christian myself and despite the many challenges of this experience, I felt at home.