Mission Volunteering
People
Posted: 27th August 2026
Chris Wells likes a line from a John Bell hymn that seems to match his experience of going to Zambia: ‘Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same?’ It is a poignant, testing question, asking for commitment and courage. For years, Chris’s life didn’t allow it – until, at 78 and grieving his wife, Chris picked up the phone to Mission Direct. Six months later (in 2024) he travelled to Zambia, knowing little about the country and nothing of the people he would meet there, not yet realising that the trip would open a new chapter of his life.
He had for years admired Mission Direct’s practical, hands-on work, and liked the idea of building something tangible. But his wife would never have wanted to go to Africa, and until she died unexpectedly the previous Christmas, he had never imagined going without her.
After she died, he rang Mission Direct’s Relationships and Volunteer Manager, Jackie Johnston, to ask whether he was too old to take part. Jackie listened to his story, reassured him that age was no barrier if his health allowed, and suggested Zambia as a first trip – an easy transfer from the airport, a pleasant climate and a straightforward first trip. It was a short conversation, but without it, none of what followed would have happened. Chris went. And from there, his world opened out.
That first trip gave Chris two weeks on a Mission Direct project helping to build a school classroom in Zambia, work that suited the practical side of him.
The experiences of those weeks changed everything. Two local lads took Chris to a school in one of the poorest compounds in the region and introduced him to its head teacher, Eneless. What he found there amazed him: almost nothing in the way of resources or facilities, but a school full of happy and excited and yet very poor and vulnerable children who were clearly loved, encouraged, cared for and protected.
He wanted to stay in touch when he returned home; after some delay, a reply came back and a new relationship began to take root.
Two years on, Chris and Eneless are in contact most days. They are working together on a project to buy land for a new school. He is raising funds for this project and for more immediate issues like school uniforms and shoes for children in the last Primary year who would not be able to afford to go on to Secondary without this support.
In Summer 2025, Chris joined a Mission Direct team in Kumi, Uganda, and then flew to Zambia to live for a week with Eneless and her family before joining a Zambia Mission Direct team. This year he returned to Zambia with Mission Direct, again staying on to live with Eneless. Jackie and the team have put in extra time and care to accommodate his plans for staying on longer, fitting them around Mission Direct’s own trips so that one supports the other.
As Chris says himself, none of it would have happened without that first call and the door Mission Direct opened. Without Jackie’s introduction, and the team’s ongoing support in making his return visits possible, the connections that now mean so much to him would never have been made. What began as a short volunteering trip has grown into a far wider world of friendship, purpose and commitment – one Chris has helped shape through his own energy and willingness to keep saying yes, and one that Mission Direct has kept finding ways to support.
Chris is candid that none of this was predictable. ‘If someone had told me three years ago that I would become obsessed with Zambia, I’d have said that’s nonsense,’ he says.
He came home from that first trip overwhelmed – ‘buzzing for months,’ as he puts it – telling all those he met and giving fund-raising talks, his enthusiasm bubbling over. Retirement, bereavement, and the time and resources that came with later life gave him room to say yes.
It is not a model for everyone, and Chris would be the first to say so. But it is a reminder that an open door – the one Mission Direct opened with a single phone call – can lead much further than anyone expects when someone is ready, willing and able to step through it.
Alongside the friendships and fundraising, something less visible has changed too. Chris admits he was ‘a bit of a flaky Christian.’ One of the most surprising highlights of his first Mission Direct trip was the 7.30am devotional time with the team. He did not expect much from it, but the birdsong, the cool morning air and the close bonds of shared worship became a valued feature of the trips.
His experiences have altered his worship back home. When a hymn mentions the hungry or the homeless, he no longer thinks in general terms; he thinks of specific situations and people. His faith, he says, has become more concrete, more personal, more alive.
The story is not without pain. Chris speaks openly about the limits of what can be done for the street children the Footprints team supports. Some are quite young, all are very vulnerable, and the need can feel overwhelming. He remembers standing with a street girl in great distress, able to offer little more than his presence, concern and prayers.
There are no easy fixes. The Footprints team rarely gives food to the children on the street; it wants to encourage them to go to support centres where they can be fed, counselled and helped properly. Chris now understands how much patience and perseverance is needed to help each child. That may be what gives this story its depth. The joy is real – the interactions with the school children, the friendships within the team, the sense of purpose – but it sits alongside feelings of helplessness, sadness and humility. Chris does not pretend otherwise.
‘Is there anyone out there who is thinking about volunteering but cannot decide?’ Chris asks, it is a question he is well placed to answer. He quickly puts aside the idea that you need to bring building skills – if you are reasonably fit, you can easily cope with what is needed. There are also lighter tasks like painting. The harder thing to explain is what cannot be planned – the way a single experience can change your whole outlook on life.
At 78, grieving his wife and uncertain what might come next, Chris Wells took a step into the unknown. After that first call to Mission Direct, he found new people, new places, a renewed faith and a new sense of purpose.
‘I cannot wait to get back to Zambia this summer,’ he says, ‘joining a team and then spending time with Eneless and her family and the school children. I’m so excited. Will I see you there?’
Or, as the hymn says, he went where he did not know and was never quite the same again.
