Owen Isaacs.. My pastor, my friend
Pamela Dube | Wednesday January 20, 2016 15:21
I know many ‘Isaacs’, but there was no doubt who she was talking about because the one we both related to was Pastor Owen Isaacs. When? What happened? The usual questions followed. That morning. He had a stroke the previous night, she said.
I fell sick. I had a stomach upset for a whole 12 hours. I was in a daze. How can this happen to a strong, hyperactive pastor I knew? And hyperactive Owen was. A bundle of energy!
I first met Owen when I started worshipping at End Time Ministries (ETM) in Block 6, Gaborone in 2004. He had joined the church, under the leadership of Pastor BG Butale, a few months before me. The day I arrived at ETM, he was the first pastor, to immediately make conversation, and right away we realised we had much in common, including wider family connections.
The connection was beyond the spiritual walk and family. Politics and social justice is what we spent hours discussing. Yes, young pastors are political ‘animals’. What I enjoyed the most was that we held different political views that were debated always in reference to the Biblical principles.
Bible teachings, and spreading the Gospel of Christ were however, the issues that would get Owen all excited. He would drop everything and influence you to do likewise and head to where the Word of God needed to be shared.
His favourite past time was teaching the youth, and mentoring youth pastors. His teachings and workshops on such concepts as ‘Walk Through The Old Testament’ are some that have anchored my Christian walk, as he always ensured that the theatrics were removed, and the Word goes out straight and honestly.
Through these programmes, I learnt to live and walk the Biblical principles and apply them in my life. I must, however, confess that Owen and I have had our not so cool moments. He held strong views, and would argue them. So did I. That, at times, led to long periods of avoidance. But when we did connect, I would realise it was me who was stuck in my state of limbo. My pastor, my friend had moved on, and was ready to challenge me on another level.
Owen was the man who nurtured and valued friendships. A tribute from young Batho Motlhake, writing about Pastor Isaacs travelling 200kms from his home in Mogoditshane to Mahalapye one morning for magadi negotiations for a former church member, made me realise what walking the talk meant to him. He would jump into his car, even in his struggling moments, to attend a friend’s or church event anywhere in the country, and not expect his travel expenses to be covered.
In my Facebook page, I shared how, on my wedding day in 2008, he arrived in Francistown late in the evening as during the day, as head of security at BotswanaPost then, he had to attend to problems at some post offices.
My mum pulled out the wedding video and the family gathered to watch. He was all praise for everything he saw except the best lady. After much debate as why I had chosen this one over that one, Owen still insisted I had chosen wrong. My mother wanted to know who qualified then. “Me.” “You?” my mum asked. “Yes, me, Owen Isaacs. Your best lady should know you best. I know Pam better than all these ladies…” And my mother’s comment: “wena baruti ba gago ba funny”.
That was Owen Isaacs for you. Young, in his mid-40s, Pastor Isaacs leaves a legacy. During our walk, as a social justice activist of sorts, he crossed my path in media and human rights activism. During the early days of the Press Council of Botswana, which I chaired, we called for applications to the Complaints and Appeals committees. When the Board of Trustees received the recommendations from the appointments panel, top of the Complaints Committee list, with highest score of 96%, was Pastor Owen Isaacs of the Evangelical Fellowship Botswana (EFB). The other list, also leading with a high percentage was Pastor Biggie Butale of EFB.
I nearly fell off my chair, and had to explain to the Board that the two were my pastors, and friends. Then someone explained that we could not sacrifice our best candidates just because of a relationship with the Board chair, and that I had nothing to do with it.
In fact, my colleagues seemed impressed that my pastors were ready and qualified to offer their services, for free, to media professionalism and freedom. Not surprisingly, both went to serve in the BOCONGO board and other structures pushing social justice.
As his sudden passing sinks in, I realise that I am richer today, in many aspects, because in life, Owen crossed my path. I bow my head in respect and love for my departed pastor and friend. Robala sentle Molete!