A Refrigerator For Jacob

I first heard about Jacob from Michael, one of my American colleagues in Tokyo. Jacob was a Nigerian, a fellow worshipper at Michael's largely Japanese church.

"He works in a factory doing crap work no one else will do," Michael told me. Jacob wanted to save enough money so he could go back to Nigeria and buy a house for his wife. They had only been married a few months.

When it turned out that Jacob's wife would be able to join him in Tokyo, Jacob was beside himself with joy: the lease for the tiny apartment he rented would allow two people, and he had already found his bride a job as a cleaning lady at a chemical company. With both of them working, they would be able to earn so much money!

Michael felt sorry for Jacob, a trained teacher with a sound education and hopes for the future. Unlike us, Jacob had little chance of finding a teaching job in Japan. Instead, he had to work with chemicals that burnt his hands and made him cough. His eyes watered constantly, and he had tiny scars on his face and arms from the spattering acid he used. His work conditions were poor, and of course the job was illegal, so he had no benefits, no holidays, no health insurance, and no pension.

But Jacob was very optimistic about his life and prospects. When his wife finally arrived, he might have been the happiest man on earth according to Michael. They were both earning fabulous salaries -- and they were finally together! If they were careful with their money, they would be able to take plenty back to Nigeria. Truly, God had been good to them.

"If you've got any stuff you don't need, I know they'd be grateful for it," Michael said.

I brought in superfluous cutlery and bedding and and Michael always reported how thrilled Jacob and his wife were with everything. When my husband and I bought a larger refrigerator from a sayonara sale, I mentioned to Michael that our old, smaller one was available if Jacob was interested. He was, so I cleaned out the refrigerator and Michael paid to have it shipped to the outskirts of Tokyo, where Jacob and his wife lived. The next day he reported how delighted they were with it.

For the next several months, I heard about Jacob from time to time. That his wife's job was long and difficult; she too had to work with strong chemicals with poor ventilation, and was on her feet all day long. When she or Jacob got ill, they still had to work. Their bosses did not treat them with respect. Jacob spoke good, though heavily accented English, but almost no Japanese, so Michael ended up serving as his interpreter. "I couldn't work for a guy like that even one hour," he confided. "He treats Jacob like he ought to be grateful to have the job, when it's really Jacob who's doing him the favor."

One day I asked how Jacob and his wife were doing and Michael told me that our donated refrigerator had broken down. It was summer, and a very hot one, too. I was appalled: true, the refrigerator had been old, but we'd had every confidence it would last another few years.

My heart went out to Jacob and his wife. They had recently been ill and his wife had just lost her job. It must have been hellish, the both of them stuck in their cramped little apartment without even a refrigerator to keep their drinks cool. But Michael insisted that Jacob was still in the best of spirits. "He thinks he can find another job for his wife. And the day the refrigerator broke down, they went out and found that someone had dumped the exact same model -- they couldn't get over the coincidence. It was filthy inside, but when they got it home it worked just fine. Since yours was nice and clean, they just replaced the stuff inside, and now they have a brand new refrigerator." He smiled sadly. "Jacob still thinks he's well and truly blessed."

In many respects, he really was.