JOURNEY TO THE BSc (Blog Series Ep12).

MY HEAD ABOVE WATER

At this moment, things started to look up for my good and even though I felt it was late, I was glad I could breathe again. Thankfully for my friends who encouraged me to keep reading for my final exams even though they hadn’t called it off yet, I was able to be prepared for my final remaining papers.

As things started to look up for my good, I started to reflect on decisions I made when I felt God was slow to my call. I remembered when a friend gave me the contacts of a seer, who told me to come with a new bottle of olive oil and my offering ( I told her I had never given tithe in my life, so she advised me to bring my tithe from the day I was born till now that I am old. She told me God was angry so I emptied my bank account. All of them) and went to her with them to be delivered from this demonic chains that had entangled me. long story short, she poured the bottle on my head , prayed for me and took the money. She said just give it two weeks and see the glory of God. I waited two months…  Nothing.

I recollected another event; a friend who lived in Okija village invited me to her church’s deliverance service. You’ll be surprised how misfortune breeds friendships. Since, I was traveling back to Lagos for the weekend, I decided to attend then leave over the weekend.

I was to stay at her village, which I was soon to realize was their main house. I wondered what made her still attend Madonna with its exuberant fees. With what I saw, it was obvious that poverty had rested its nest. Whatever demon that had decided to nest here had it in for this girl. I started to appreciate my life the more.

She woke me up by 11pm for us to start the journey to the church. I wondered why so late tho?! We started the journey with the rest of her large family, everyone holding a touch and a wrapper (mosquito shield). We began on the road and as I thought we were nearing our destination, she told me we haven’t even started the journey. She switched it up for me and that was how I saw myself walking deep inside the bush to nowhere. Now I was scared because of two obvious reasons; one, I couldn’t speak fluent Igbo and two I was deep inside a bush in Okija finding God! or rather nearing a shrine.

As we walked deeper into the bush, I prayed silently in my heart. I prayed to God my soul to keep, I promised God that if he got me out of this place unscratched, I will never seek his face in the wrong place ever again. As I prayed in my heart I hoped and prayed, almost started crying that I don’t walk into Okija shrine. I was matching muddy grass, jumping hoops, I was just stepping blindly in faith hoping that a snake or worse doesn’t bite or eat me.

She called my attention to an uncompleted two story building. What sort of person builds in the middle of nowhere, with no buildings in site just bush?! I was glad to have finally reached. I walked into a multitude of old women, and children with a few men outside (obviously forced by their wives or mothers) this gathering was obviously not mine to attend. By the way they looked at me; I knew immediately that whatever demon was chasing them was definitely not chasing me. Mine was still petting me and giving me milk.

Before the ministering and deliverance began, she told me I was supposed to buy a mud pot for =N=100 sold in the church and she got me a stick. We were going to use the stick to break the pot, thereby destroying whatever hold the devil had on us.

Father! Have I drifted so far from your presence that I have been reduced to breaking pot?! It is not even written in the bible! Oh lord, I pray you to deliver me from this night and I will NEVER seek your face other than my heart.

The deliverance started and when we were told to break the pot, after taking several hits mine refused to break. My friend turned and said to me - don’t you want to graduate? That’s how I broke the pot with the next hit. Thinking I had finally succeeded in conquering evil, I turned to see eyes burning on me with every other person’s pot reduced to dust. Even the minister looked at me like I was from mars. My friend had to explain to me that I had to reduce it to dust. I continued to break the pieces till a piece couldn’t break itself.

After that experience, I hung my gloves and never did or looked for salvation out of the presence of God. When He decided it was my turn to eat the cake I will but I will never again run faster than my own shadow.