‘He was everybody’s child’: Tumbler Ridge shooting victim remembered by former pastor

It was 4:00 a.m. in Zambia when Pastor Christopher Bwalya got the kind of call no pastor ever wants to receive.

“There’s a problem, there was a shootout at the school,” the voice on the other end told him.

The call came from Tumbler Ridge, B.C. It was Abel Mwansa Sr., who also used to be a pastor at Bwalya’s church in the Zambian town of Solwezi. His 12-year-old son, Abel Mwansa Jr., had been shot.

At first, Bwalya says, it didn’t even cross his mind that the little boy he had watched grow — who he remembered as a tiny child carried on his mother’s back — might be dead. Instead, he immediately reached out to church elders, urging them to pray.

But three and a half hours later, he says, the phone rang again.

Abel was gone. 

He was among nine people killed Tuesday when 18-year-old Jesse Van Rootselaar opened fire at Tumbler Ridge Secondary School, killing five students and a staff member, after earlier killing her mother and half-brother at their family home.

On Sunday, some 14,000 kilometers away, friends of Abel and his family held a celebration of life at the City of Grace Chapel in Solwezi, the same church where Abel once attended Sunday school before moving to British Columbia with his family in March 2023.

Head Pastor Bwalya later spoke with As It Happens guest host Saroja Coelho about the service, and about how the young boy is being remembered.

Here’s part of that conversation:

There was a celebration of life for Abel Mwansa in Solwezi last night. Could you help us imagine what that was like?

It was a very complex moment to actually think and process through. Here we found ourselves getting the news of his demise on that fateful day and we did have an opportunity to meet as a fellowship, as a church, to really reflect on the life that Abel lived and how he lived with us and what he actually meant to each one of us. So there’s a picture that each one of us had about him, and that moment gave an opportunity for everybody to sort of express the sort of relationship and the impact that Abel had made on each one of us… It was a mix of things — moments of laughter, pain and also celebration.

When you shared stories about him last night, which was the one that stood out for you? 

One of the stories, on my end, is that we agreed that when he gets to Canada, his accent was not going to change. And three months down the line, the accent was changed. That for me remains one of those very humorous moments. Abel was one of the very few Sunday-school students that would quote Genesis chapter 1 verse 1 in our local dialect in Bemba. And that was very humorous, it was very humorous to hear a boy of his age that time, particularly when he was in Zambia, to be able to do that. So those are very funny moments….

He was a child that loved everybody, he was a child that was open, a child that was friendly to everybody that he was found with. He was everybody’s child, every elderly person was his mother, every elderly person was his father. Very respectful child. 

His father has been speaking a lot about his son’s kindness, his curiosity, his big smile, which we’ve been seeing in the photographs, his sparkling eyes. When you close your eyes and you remember him, what is the thing that makes you think of Abel? 

One thing that I remember vividly is that Abel was very friendly. Abel demonstrated leadership among his peers in the Sunday school. Whether they were taking a childhood mischief path or they were taking a child fun path, whatever they did, Abel would always be in the back leading a team to be able to do some of the things that they used to do. Sometimes in communities that we lived in, you could have chickens around, and Abel would lead the pack chasing chickens around. That’s what we remember. Then, he began to evolve into this very friendly character, he began to evolve into this very respectful child. Very, very obedient child, very strange for his age, but that is what we saw. He carried the smile exactly the way the father carries it. And you could tell that there was something very unique about this child. Of course, very inquisitive, and we only hoped that we could get the best out of him.

You’re speaking with the family often. Can you tell us how they’re doing? 

Well, they’re making progress, but you know, that progress is slow and steady. It takes a bit of time to really get there. So they are a very strong family of faith…. I know that as they look up to their God, as they look up to the Lord Jesus Christ, they’ll weather through. So, there are moments that you speak to them, they sound a bit strong. There are moments that you speak to them, they sound weak. But we are encouraging them to mourn their son.

Pastor, you sound like such a sturdy force in their lives. How do you comfort someone through something this awful? 

It’s quite complex. But one of the things that I did when Pastor Abel and his wife were in Zambia, there are moments that we would take a drive to go and comfort somebody else. And these are the exact words that I’m saying to him. I’m saying, you are the one who’s got to go through this and nobody else will go through it. You’re the one that this was meant for, you’ve got to go through this. And while you’re going through this, you must be open to your weaknesses and present them before your God. If you’re gonna cry, please do cry; if you’re gonna break, do break until you get to a place of healing. Because your healing won’t come by being strong, your healing won’t come by being comforted, but your healing will only come when you express yourself fully.  

And how will you hold on to Abel’s memory going forward? 

I remember Abel as one who had a contagious smile, one who was willing to help, one who was obedient, one that would pick an instruction at once. That’s how I look at him. But for me, from my perspective as a minister of the gospel, I’m just thinking, okay, so even at 12, you can touch so many lives.