BY HEATHER TREDOUX

HE LONG PASSENGER train snaked its way over a range of high hills between Morogoro and Dodoma, roughly 160 miles (260 kilometers) west of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Among the crowds of passengers were 360 Seventh-day Adventist women who had just attended a women's ministries retreat. The train labored to reach the crest of the last hill. The clickety-clack of the wheels on rails became farther apart. Finally the train came to a dead stop.

The minutes ticked by, and the train did not move. People began to get off the train to stretch their legs and brush their teeth with the water they carried with them. A half hour went by. There was a relaxed atmosphere under the hot African sun.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the train began to move--not forward, but backward. People who had been ambling about noticed the movement and shouted, "Don't leave us!" while making a dash for the train. Those who didn't make it watched the disappearing train with anxious cries, not wanting to be left in the wilderness area.

As the heavy train gathered momentum it was not only out of sight but out of control; the brakes had failed. Faster and faster it went, fairly flying through the Iganda station on its backward flight. By the time it reached the Msagali station, the long train was whipping along at an estimated 130 miles (220 kilometers) per hour. The passengers, rocking and lurching on the runaway train for 18 minutes, were in a state of terror.

Bracing for Impact
Christine Biseko, a schoolteacher, remembers: "I saw our pastor's wife comforting the people who were crying. We followed her example of writing our names on our palms, arms, and thighs. We knew that a terrible crash was coming. We could hear prayers and cries in many languages." In the last coach, Christine and her companions believed theirs was the most vulnerable.

After about 20 minutes the runaway train caught up with a freight train traveling on the same track in the opposite direction. There was a deafening crash. A thick cloud of dust made it difficult to see. The coach Christine had been riding in was uncoupled and thrown off the tracks, away from the rest of the train. "I got out of the coach and sat on the grass, stunned, not knowing what to do," she says. "I felt blood on my head and realized it was coming from a wound in my forehead."

Priscilla Omolo recalls, "In my coach people were scrambling for the windows after our overturned coach came to rest. I felt a tangle of arms and legs and realized that they belonged to passengers who were dead."

Priscilla became aware of a child holding on to her kitenge (a colorful cloth used as wraparound skirt, headdress, or wrap) as she tried to get to the window. After she climbed out, she noticed that the child was no longer with her. A woman asked, "Did you see my child inside?"

"I went back to the window and asked a strong person to lift the child out," she says. "This was done, and I was so relieved."

Mary Grabaya was shocked by the sight of a fellow passenger who had been flattened by the accident. "I saw the head, body, and legs, but they were all squashed," she says.

Ladyana Maganda, women's ministries leader for the South Nyanza Conference, tells about one woman caught upside down, trapped in a tangle of metal. Many tried to pull her free, but the metal was too mangled. The woman prayed and pleaded for help, but no one could do anything; she was trapped. After 20 minutes the woman became quieter and quieter, while people stood nearby, powerless to help.

When a child happened by, the woman called, "Little child, can you help me, please?" Another child came. Both children grabbed a piece of metal and began to pull. The girders moved as easily as a child manipulates play-dough. Willing hands unhooked the woman's feet and removed her from her prison. Afterward people looked for the two little angels but could not find them. The woman survived.

Hearing the cries of those who were more severely injured, those with minor injuries began to help others, using their kitenges to stop the bleeding. They also comforted and prayed for the injured.

It took three hours for help to arrive. First on the scene were doctors from the government hospital at Mpwapwa, then soldiers. Then Adventist church leaders flew in to Dodoma and found vehicles to transport members to their homes. Sixty-two Adventist women died in the crash; at least 240 children were left without mothers.

Saved for Service
A year after the terrible accident some of the same women who survived the incident traveled 2,100 miles (3,500 kilometers) by bus from Dar es Salaam (and far beyond) to attend the 2003 women's congress. Together they marched onto the stage and gave an excellent report of the work done by the women of Tanzania for the betterment of their communities. Despite their terrible loss, their faith in God survived triumphant.

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Heather Tredoux shared the same residence block at the University of Botswana with the Tanzanian representatives at an Adventist women's ministries congress held in Gaborone. She was assisted by Dma Bina, who translated their comments from Swahili into English.