Tanzanian translators persevere

By Mary Tindall ORLANDO, Fla.—As Marcia Millar looks across the landscape of Dodoma, Tanzania, she sees a dry, dusty land—in both the literal and spiritual senses. Dodoma, the political capital of this East African country, is undergoing a population boom. Meanwhile, its churches are struggling, its pastors undertrained in the Bible. Bible translators hope that […]

By Mary Tindall

ORLANDO, Fla.—As Marcia Millar looks across the landscape of Dodoma, Tanzania, she sees a dry, dusty land—in both the literal and spiritual senses.

Dodoma, the political capital of this East African country, is undergoing a population boom. Meanwhile, its churches are struggling, its pastors undertrained in the Bible.

Bible translators hope that when the people of Dodoma receive the Bible in their mother-tongue languages, the spiritual climate will improve. Yet as translators pursue this goal, high rent prices stemming from the population influx are setting back their efforts.

Marcia helps administer the translation efforts in three indigenous languages—Burunge, Rangi, and Sandawe—as the Dodoma office coordinator for the Uganda-Tanzania branch. Previously, she spent 17 years traveling across Kenya and Tanzania, teaching children of Wycliffe translators.

Every month, she hears anxiety in the voices of translators who worry about making their next rent payment. One office’s rent recently jumped from 1,400 U.S. dollars to $5,000 within one month. Residential rents have risen exponentially, too.

“It’s a distraction for our translators,” Marcia, 56, said. “Their need is to take care of their families. They get really discouraged about it.”

Soon a new crop of Wycliffe personnel will begin a four-month Swahili language-acquisition session, the first step in translating a related language that has defied two translation attempts before. 

This language is termed a “last language” by Wycliffe Bible Translators, because it is one of thousands of languages yet to receive the Bible. Because of the sensitive religious climate, this language will remain unnamed.

The project has been started, and halted, twice before. In the 1990s, a married couple leading the translation was forced to leave the mission field after the wife was diagnosed with breast cancer. The second attempt at translation never gained momentum.

Now, in the third pass of this translation, its success stands in question.

Even as the financial problems for this project look insurmountable, the audience for newly translated scriptures continues to widen.

Two universities—St. Johns University and the University of Dodoma—have opened in Dodoma within the last two years, bringing with them thousands of students, faculty and staff. This surge of people has transformed Dodoma into an intellectually vibrant city—and sent rent prices soaring.

Despite the financial and spiritual hardships, hope endures among the Tanzanian translation team.

Marcia recalled the story of a young Tanzanian translator named Paulo Kijuu who attended a family funeral two years ago, bringing with him the first three chapters of Mark in the Rangi language. All the funeral guests wanted to hear the chapters read aloud. 

After they heard the words in their own languages, every listener wanted to take Paulo’s only copy home with them. Finally, they agreed that each person would take one sheet from the three chapters to take home in the village.

It is because of stories like this—stories that demonstrate the thirst Tanzanians have for the Bible in their mother tongues—that Bible translators in Tanzania persevere.