I never knew my mum until I was 17 years old, although I met her for the first time when I was 10. But we didn’t spend much time together. She left home when I was 3 and I grew up in an environment where I was verbally abused. Verbal abuse limited my capacity to do things, even though I had the ability. 

I lived with my mum’s sisters because they felt my dad wouldn’t take care of me as a woman would. The first "aunt" I lived with thought the best way to correct me was to shout and call me names like "big head" and "ugly". I would feel bad and as I grew, I started seeing myself as inferior. I left that aunt and went to live with my mum’s direct sister. I thought it would be better but I never knew I was going from frying pan to fire. All through my stay with her, the only language I could understand was hatred. I remember a time her son tried to rape me and the only thing that saved me was his sister shouting and crying, "Leave her, leave her, what did she do?" 

When my mum finally came home from abroad to settle down, it was quite hard, because I was already fully grown. I was 17 years old and done with secondary school, so trying to have that mother and daughter relationship was hard. Everything I went through made me hate her for abandoning us. I used to tell her, “Mum, you weren’t there when we needed you the most. We wouldn’t have gone through all the hurt and abuse if you were here.” We (my siblings and I) tried to get along with her but we had a love-hate relationship. She tried to be our mother though it was hard for us to accept her, even though we loved her. The harder we pushed to hate her, the more we loved her. 

I found out that God made me go through those challenges so I can be the voice of children to their parents, giving answers to worrisome questions in their hearts. Honestly, I wish I had bonded with my mum before she died. I'm now writing a book and would have wanted her to write the foreword.

I grew up in a Christian home and attended a Christian secondary school but at the time, Rap music had more influence on me than my christian environment. I was a wannabe gangster. In 2008, after a streak of bad choices, I knew if I continued along my current path, I was going to end up in serious trouble. So I prayed and God sent me a friend who was a very good influence and I became born again. But to be sincere, one of the reasons I actually got born again was because I was tired of getting into so much trouble. 

In 2011, God sent me another friend who invited me to a fantastic church and it was at that church that my transformation began. I received more understanding of what it meant to be born again and since then I have been on a progressive path. So many times along this path, I’ve lost my focus and given in to my flesh but God was always ready to receive me when I was ready to return to him.

2006/2007 is a year I will never forget. I started out in my first year in university studying medicine, my dream course. I was a Christian but at some point I strayed from the faith. I had good grades that took me to 200 level. Gradually, I found my way back to God. Just when I thought I had rediscovered my faith, I returned from a Mission Outreach organized by the University mission arm, after 200L "Comprehensive" exams, to meet the result that told me that I had failed out of Medical School. It was a terrible moment for me. I was a popular student which made it worse. The first person I called was my Dad and he told me to come home. 

My parents encouraged me and my mum’s exact words were, ‘’That medicine gan, is what you are going to study.” The failure didn’t dawn on me at first. However, a few hours later, text messages from my immediate past colleagues started flowing in and I realized my loss. I broke into tears, the kind of tears that can only be described as silent…painful…sorrowful…shameful. 

“So I’m not going to be a Medical Doctor? Is this how people fail out of school? How do I start again? Wasted year! And just when I wanted to return to God!” 

So many questions came calling and knocking at the door of my heart. This was my first experience of failing in life and it hit me real bad. I left home and returned to school. I stayed in my hostel all day, for the shame and fear of meeting familiar faces. 

That December, I stayed in school and didn’t go home. Alongside a few of my colleagues, I wrote a letter to the University Senate, appealing that we should be allowed to resit the exam. After a while, we were granted a pardon to do so (which is the first and only time this was done). I passed the exam after the resit and the rest is history. People say God will take you through places you don’t understand, just to bring you to the place He wants you to be. Despite several other challenges I went through in school, today, I'm a Medical Doctor, touching lives in my own sphere of influence.

(Part 2/2) Because I had gone blind, my mum and I went to the teaching hospital where I met with their best ophthalmologist. He conducted some tests and told us that my sight was gone. He said I had wounds and cuts in/on my cornea and if I wanted to have a tiny chance of seeing again, he would have to carry out a surgery, but that it was an 80-20 percent chance. 80 of never seeing again, 20 of seeing a little. He then scheduled a day for the surgery, but stopped us on our way out and gave us some eye drops to buy. He asked that I use it for 3 days. He reluctantly said it was our last resort and he wasn’t sure it would work because the damage was too much. I cried all the way home. 

I can remember asking my mum who would marry a blind woman. We bought the medication and I started using it. Even though I had lost the will to pray, I held on to some scriptures in the Bible (Jeremiah 8:22 and 1 Peter 2:24). I would cry and talk to God. I spoke to Him like He was in my room. My parents would come in and lay their hands on me and pray their hearts out. By the second day of using the eye drops, I could see movements and images. I was happy but still wanted my sight back. By the third day, I could see almost perfectly with one of my eyes. 

We went back to the hospital and the doctor examined me again. He was shocked. He asked if I did something else, and I responded, "I called on He who gave me eyes, and asked for my sight back." He had tears in his eyes and said, "Indeed He has given you your sight back.” By the 4th day, I could see with both eyes and the sores around the eyes were clearing. By 31st December, God had restored my sight.

(Part 1/2) As the only girl with two brothers, I grew up as a tomboy. I repeated a class in secondary school but ended up being a prefect. I stayed at home for a year after secondary school before gaining admission to university. When I finally did, I was a book worm and did a lot of studying to have a first class degree. I had my life mapped out - finish school, go for National Youth Service, travel abroad for a Master's degree, get a job and get married. Well, it was working according to plan until I went for NYSC in November 2009 in Bayelsa State. The camp was horrible, raining every day and with very bad water. 

I survived the 3 weeks and went back home for Christmas. At home, I discovered I had some redness in both eyes and reactions all over my body. I assumed the redness was an infection from the bad environment and living conditions at the camp. My dad advised that I buy some eye drops to clear it. I did, but it just wasn't clearing. Then one eye got worse and became itchy. By the 4th day, it had spread to the other eye. My eyes were sore and very painful. We went to a very popular eye clinic and the doctor gave me some meds and eye drops. I used them for 2 days. 

I woke up on the second day and discovered I had gone completely blind. I yelled and screamed and my mum came rushing in. I said, "Mummy, I can't see anything". She burst into tears. My dad came in and couldn't fight the tears himself. Guess what? The day was Christmas.

“It’s pretty funny how you think you know someone but you don’t.” 

I got married few years ago and had a baby afterwards. He was a very healthy baby with no issues at all. But when he was a year old, he started to fall really sick and I had to take him to the hospital. I was told that my son has sickle cell anaemia. I was perplexed! “How? When? From where?”, were the questions I kept asking myself. I argued that it’s not possible, his dad’s genotype is AA while I’m AS. But the doctors insisted. 

I had to confront my husband but he kept claiming to be AA. I insisted he go do another genotype test but he refused. Apparently, he was also AS, but had lied to me, although we both got tested before we got married. Everything was a lie. I was so upset, thinking of all the pain my son would have to live with. I had to make a painful decision – I walked out of my marriage with my son, as I couldn’t bear the thought of bringing another child with sickle cell anaemia to this world. 

Right now my son is a healthy boy and he rarely falls sick, though he has to take his meds every day.

I had an easy and privileged childhood. Everything I asked for was given to me. I was also an introvert who loved to be on my own and read novels or think. I preferred the company of books to people. In my SS 2 (5th year of secondary school), I started having sex because everyone thought I was such a good girl and no one really paid attention to me. It was then that I started to lose my self-esteem. The boyfriend I lost my virginity to left me for another girl in class and I was so broken to the extent that I started cutting myself. This continued for a while. 

When I got to university, I had other boyfriends. In year 4 of university, my boyfriend broke up with me because I cheated on him. I didn’t care, so it didn't matter much. After that, I started drinking, smoking, masturbating and having casual sex (friends with benefits). I got pregnant and aborted it. Yet as much as I regretted the abortion, I couldn't stop having casual sex. 

I later met this guy and one of the first things I told him was that I had an abortion (to scare him off). I felt I didn't deserve anyone or anything good. He stuck by me and after two dates, he told me he would marry me. Today, after a lot of challenges faced together, we are happily married with twin boys. I can't thank God enough for bringing him into my life. He saved me from my habits. I'm married to my best friend.

“I was told I was Schizophrenic.”

After my National Youth Service (NYSC), I was in a relationship that almost led to marriage. But things didn’t go too well so it ended. A few months later, I was jobless and couldn’t do my Master’s because there was no money at the time. Everything was stagnant. I fell into depression. One day, a friend of mine sent me pictures of my ex-boyfriend doing his marriage introduction to another woman (just 6 months after we broke up). I was really shocked. “Wow! Introduction. From where to where? We just broke up.” People saw it on social media and were sending me messages. I didn’t know it got to me, coupled with the fact that I didn’t have a job. I was frustrated then I eventually got a job. 

A friend later introduced me to a guy who lives abroad. We got talking a few times, but he wasn’t interested in a long distance relationship, so he withdrew. During that time, I started hearing voices, and all I was thinking of was the guy. People that knew me said I wasn’t myself, that I was always talking about him and it was like an addiction (I’d never met the guy). I also resigned from my job – I told my boss that I was married and was travelling to meet my husband and do my Master’s Degree in America. According to my family, they said that I started to do a lot of funny things. I packed my luggage one morning and said I was going to meet my husband (the guy) in America. I had no visa, no ticket, I just said I was travelling. I kept saying I was married to him, that it was my dad that stood in for him on our wedding day. I did and said some awkward things that showed I was mentally ill. 

I was taken to LUTH’s Psychiatric Ward where I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, a mental illness. The doctors said there’s no known cause but sometimes it comes from depression. I spent over 6 weeks in the hospital. I was given drugs and after the 6th week, I became a normal person. The doctors told me Schizophrenia doesn’t have a known cure but it can be managed. So right now, I take my drugs every day. 

I go for a check-up every 3 months. I’m now in a good relationship. I also have a job and am doing my Master’s.

I started gaining weight at a very fast pace at the age of 11. By the time I was 13 years’ old, I weighed 90kg. By the age of 16, I weighed 100kg and was a size 18. I was a 5’7” teen, becoming more aware of my self-image and how people viewed me. I had low self-worth and low self-esteem. I couldn’t wear the clothes that I liked. I hated myself. I remember going to a wedding with my mum and I didn’t want to take pictures with her. She asked me what was wrong and I told her I was ugly. She was almost crying and asked what I meant by that. 

By the time I got to university, I went up to 130kg in just 3 months of moving away from Nigeria. I started trying to lose weight. I would lose 10kg and gain 15kg back, I would lose 5 and gain 8. It was a constant battle of losing and gaining, till I gave my life to Christ at age 19. I went for a 3-day retreat called ‘Encounter’. I remember when it started; everything was amazing until the part about self-image. I was like, “What is it with people and self-image? Can’t they just let it go?” The lady started talking about how we were God’s master pieces and how He wants to heal us. She was just hitting the nail on the head and it was really pricking me. I burst out crying because I knew God had put His finger on this. He said, “I want to deal with this issue for you. Let’s handle it together.” And that was how the journey started. At the time, I had lost some weight, but still had a negative perception about myself. So now, it was not about the weight but me accepting who God had created me to be and being happy regardless of how I looked or what society said I should be. 

I got on a weight loss program that I started myself, and I just had this beautiful journey of becoming whole. The Father’s love changed my view of myself. I eventually went from a size 22 to a size 10. People have asked me how I did it. I know it wasn’t just will power because I had tried that but it didn’t work. I know it was God.

Most people think I’m an outgoing and outspoken person, but I wasn’t always so. Growing up was kind of dicey. I have 6 siblings - 4 girls and 2 boys. My dad always wanted boys and he didn’t hide it from us. It was obvious. You can imagine the disappointment when the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th were girls. He got upset at some point and very aggressive. He used to hit us a lot for no apparent reason. Sometimes he would lock us up in a room and burn us with a candle, pouring the wax on us - just very strange ways of punishing us. 

Growing up, my sisters and I always felt unwanted. We didn’t have a voice. My dad didn’t have the channel to express the love that he felt because he wanted boys. I started needing approval from everyone, so I had multiple characters. I became so many people so that I could appeal to everyone. It was really conflicting. I lost myself and had no identity. It affected my expression. I didn't know how to express what I was feeling towards people because I was always shut down as a child. I wouldn’t say anything if you offended me. I would just bottle the emotions inside. 

I started having dysfunctional relationships –I wasn’t communicating. I could just be quiet for 2 hours and the other person would be wondering what’s up with me. I was scattered. I also didn’t value relationships, I felt everybody could be replaced. I never worked things out with people. I didn’t have the capacity to. So the image I was trying to initially build was crumbling because I was hurting people and was seen as a bad person. 

As a Christian, I couldn’t see God as a Father; I didn’t think he cared. My dad would do everything for us except show us fatherly love. God was everything else (like my ATM card) but just not my Father. I started getting depressed. There was a time I was suicidal. I took a mixture and was hoping not to wake up. I started attending Thursday Showers and the pastor was always talking about God being your father and friend, over and over. That was my turning point. 

After tracing where it all started from, I reached out to my dad and told him how he damaged my sisters and I. He never apologised, but I’m fine and we're now in a good place.

(Part 2/2) My mum had an accident a few weeks after her marriage was dissolved. We were supposed to go for a fellowship together on that Sunday evening but I didn't feel like going. I later got a call that evening that she was in the hospital and it was really bad. Her five fingers on her left hand were crushed, her knees were bent, and then the hand got infected. We had to be transferred to the National Orthopaedic Hospital, Igbobi. They tried to save her hands and succeeded. She had to go through a lot of physiotherapy (like learn to pick things, clap both hands). 

All this happened towards the end of my NYSC. We were going to the hospital (Igbobi) every day as an outpatient. Her business suffered, her ministry too, everything was grounded to a halt. But we had each other. It was really tough but the grace of God kept us. We kept taking things one day at a time. Our hospital visits reduced to 3 times a week and then to 2 times a week. This lasted for about 8 months and I was also looking for a job too to get my mind off worrying. The devil would then taunt me. He'd say stuff like you took care of your father when he was sick and he died of cancer, now you're taking care of your mother. She's going to die too. My mum had to take different drugs at least 5 to 6 times a day, so I was always in the kitchen cooking every 3 hours, because she couldn’t do anything. I would also bathe her too every day. It was the same routine daily. Sometimes she would have hallucinations, excruciating pain and would just shout. The devil just kept taunting me every day that I’m going to be an orphan and I’ll have no one to love me. I admit I went into some bouts of depression. My mum in her own state of pain would tell me to snap out of my depression. 

About a year later, she got better and the knee braces were removed. If you see her, you would not believe she had such injuries. I look back and thank God for bringing us through so many trying times.

(Part 1/2) On the last day of my National Youth Service Corp (NYSC) camp, my mum called me around 3am and asked me to take a cab and come straight to her office. She asked me not to go home, that it wasn’t safe at home and she had left the house. I asked her what happened but she refused to tell me. When I got to my mum’s office (she had her own business and her office was quite big), she told me that was going to be our new home for now. She said we couldn’t go home, that she doesn’t care what anyone says, but she’s walking out of her marriage. My stepdad (who was a pastor) had tried to beat her again, and in the previous beatings she had suffered some concussion and headaches. So she took a handful of clothes with her and all I had was my NYSC uniform. My boyfriend at the time, (now my husband) had to shop for me. We tried going to the house to get a few things, but my stepdad didn’t let us in. He said since my mum ran away, we could never come into the house. That's how my mum and I lived in her office for 4 months. 

None of her staff knew we were sleeping there. We would take turns to sleep on the couch. Some days I would sleep on the floor while she slept on the couch and vice-versa. I would go to my boyfriend’s house to cook a lot of food, and store it in the office fridge. We would use the microwave to warm the food. I had never seen my mum so low. But she just made up her mind that she was done. Her friends left her, people said all sorts, people mocked and laughed at us. But I stood by her. 

There was a day my stepdad came to beg her in the office and my mum told me to hide in the store. He kept saying to my mum, “Your daughter doesn’t want you to be happy, forget about her, she’s the one bringing bad luck and making us fight all time.” He told her that she should be happy he wants her back only on the condition that I don't live with them. My mum refused and that was how it ended. My uncles came, the families met and the marriage was dissolved. My mum that was once a shadow of herself started coming back. She regained her health and we started living our lives.

(Part 2/2) I came to church on a Sunday and there was a guest from Kenya ministering. Before he could say anything, he just stopped for a while and started sniffing as if he was smelling something. The next thing he said was, “I smell masturbation.” I froze where I was. I was ushering at the time. He then said “If you masturbate here, the Lord wants to deliver you. Come out.” Right there the Holy Spirit told me, "This is deliverance for you." I didn’t want to go out because I was ushering and had the badge on. God told me again, “This is deliverance for you. I sent this man for this reason.” People started coming out. I also went and joined them in front, but I went with the pretext that I was going to catch people when they fall as an usher. But in my mind I knew that I was going for myself. He prayed for us and we left. I still continued to masturbate. 

I said, “Lord, you have sent him and he has prayed for us, but I still have this issue.” God told me He had broken the spiritual hold masturbation had on me. He began to teach me how to overcome it. I began to devour the Bible. I listened to messages. I threw away all my porn magazines. I had to do away with so many things, even movies. There were times I fell and would feel guilty and bad. God told me, “It’s like a baby trying to learn how to walk. The more the baby tries to walk, it falls. Do you get surprised if the baby falls? No, but you keep encouraging the baby to walk, until it gets better at it and starts walking freely without any support. That’s the way you are. You will fall but you will get up.” I was encouraged. I had to take it a day at a time. 

A whole year passed and I hadn’t masturbated. I was really excited and said I’d been delivered. But God told me I had been delivered a long time ago and I was just going through the process. I felt free and a new paradigm of my life opened.

PS: If you're currently struggling with masturbation, you may find this workshop useful to you: www.lifepointeng.org/addiction.

(Part 1/2) My father was a military man, so he wasn’t always around. My mum tried, but she wasn’t always around too. Growing up, we had quite a number of house maids. I got abused by a maid when I was 5 years old. She would use me to do certain things to herself and this went on for a while. This opened a door that was new to me. 

Growing up, I just wanted to explore more and I got into other sexual escapades. There were times I would have sex with the maid and no one knew. I gave my life to Christ in 1996, but out of fear, because I got into trouble as a young boy. I was a fugitive because some guys were looking for and threatening me. My dad told me if I didn’t give my life to Christ, I wouldn’t stay in his house. I was the black sheep. I made a vow to God and told him if he would fix the trouble I’d gotten into, I would completely follow Him. God did it and the whole situation was solved. 

I got more serious with God, but I still had issues with sex. I was sleeping around and was an usher in church. One day, I was in church and Pastor said, “You’re standing here ushering and that girl is there and you’ll be going back to mess around with her.” It was as if I got a supernatural slap. I literally saw stars as if someone slapped me back to my senses. "What am I doing with my life? Why am I playing church. Why am I being religious?" I went back to end things with the girl (our fine maid) that I was sleeping with. But a residue was still left - masturbation. I couldn’t stop doing it and it was a major challenge. I wasn’t moving forward because it was taking a lot of my intellectual energy. My creativity was dull. I looked for where to get help.

(Part 2/2) In 2011, I started receiving several calls from my mum complaining about how her mum and step siblings were still tormenting her. I then made up my mind to be an adult. I know you're wondering why she couldn’t send them away. It's deeper than you think. 

I went to Lagos, got some soldiers and did the needful. They hated me more, but I cared less. My mum’s health was my major priority because by this time, her mental state of health was a mess. She was shuttling between the military hospital and the psychiatric hospital at Yaba. I remember going to several big churches in Lagos to see the pastors but due to protocol I wasn’t allowed to see any of them. On one of my visits to a church, I met a brother in the pastor’s protocol who taught me a bit on faith. He advised me to join my faith with my sisters and read scriptures to my mum. I had to do as he said, because my sisters were in school so I was the only one with my mom in the hospital at that period. Every day I would cry and ask God questions. 

That year, I finally moved to Abuja. My first year in Abuja was so stormy. Staying in Abuja as a single helpless lady was challenging, but it got easier and better. God started helping me and I have always loved working. It’s now been nine years since I've been working. I have a company now and my mum and sisters are doing well. I look at myself in the mirror and there is no trace that I have been through hell.

(Part 1/2) The year, 2006 was a significant one. I was 18 years old and had just finished my diploma. I was so excited to go home for my IT. I got home and was told that my mum had been physically & mentally abused by her mom & step siblings and it had affected her mental health. She'd been in hospital for weeks. I remember praying, crying and drinking garri everyday with my siblings. There was no father, uncle or aunt to support us. 

Weeks later, she got a bit better, but her mom and step siblings came back, even after they had been sent packing by my mum’s boss. They made the house hell on earth. They would abuse us, fight themselves and torment me. I really had no idea why they hated me so much and made my life miserable. We were told by the doctor not to bother my mum for money, so we had to manage. I was lucky to have started my IT in a bank, so I earned some money. 

Months after my IT, I got retained in the bank as a contract staff. I was so happy because the only place I found peace was in the office. My mum got posted to Lagos and I refused to go with her due to the fact that my grandma and extended relatives were going to stay with her too. I was just sick and tired of their many troubles, plus I was enjoying my work at the time. I had to rent a place to stay on my own since I was not moving to Lagos with them. At that point, the hustle started for me. 

I was 19 years old and still naïve but was so much into my work. Three years later, my uncle, aunt and mum came to disturb me at my office. They had manipulated my mum into taking me to Lagos by force. I refused on several occasions to go with them. Eventually, they told my boss some lies and I had to resign but I still refused to follow them. That year I became jobless & helpless and on two occasions almost committed suicide because I just got tired of life.

(Parts 2/2) I started having meetings with others on my newly formed "religion" in my room. Our meetings were question and answer sessions. Our motto was, "In the absence of that which is not, that which is, is not." 

We had plans to become so influential in society and in every sector, we would have a representative that would take over the country. We were going to change the direction of the nation. Years later, I found out that was how "Skull and Bones" started (a secret society which began at Yale University in 1832). My members would ask me if fornication, murder etc. were good and I would tell them, “Good is a perspective, evil is a perspective, nothing is good or bad, thinking makes it so.” 

I started believing my lies. Initially, I knew I was lying. I thought I was playing and just having fun with philosophy. I believed I was just enjoying psychology, parapsychology and hypnotism. I also went into martial arts and spiritual exercises and got in touch with the chakras. I had about 20 followers and they used to call me master. I remember times in my room, I would light candles on the floor and start meditating and uttering some words. I would interact with spirits. I also remember floating a couple of times. 

This continued until one day when I was going to a class in the faculty of science. I met a friend from church on my way. When he saw me, he was happy to see me because I hadn’t been to church in a year. We hugged and honestly that was the end of Ehism. It was that simple and till today I can’t even explain it. It was like something was lifted off me. I went for the class and after that, everything disappeared – my interest in Ehism, philosophy, absolutely everything. I went to church the following day and rededicated my life to God. My friend was the first person I confessed to, and I told him the day he hugged me something left me. 

Ehism lasted for about a year. My members noticed I wasn’t holding meetings anymore and some started threatening me. This went on for a while till everyone parted ways.

(Part 1/2) I was in year one at UNILAG with exams coming up. I was reading at the education faculty with some of my classmates at about 1am and there was a lady evangelising. (Before that period, I had stopped going to church and was using school as an excuse.) The lady came up to me and said that what she had to tell me was more important than my exams. I asked her how she verified the authenticity of the Bible and she said, "All scripture is written by the inspiration of God." 

Prior to that time, I had already started writing my own Bible. It didn’t have a name, but it was something different. I didn’t know where the inspiration came from. I had gone into a lot of astrology, palmistry, metaphysics and the like. I would wake up at night and just start writing. So back to the lady. We had a long conversation and I was able to confuse her and convert her to a religion I formed right there on the spot called, "Ehism". She asked me, “Who are you?” I said, “I am who I am.” She asked if I was a philosopher, a Muslim, Buddhist or Atheist and I said no. From nowhere I just said, “I’m a disciple of the discipline of Ehism." I told her Ehisim is a way of life that shows you god for who god is by yourself, not by some written words of man. ("Ehisim" was gotten from one of my middle names, "EbenEHIta"). I said, “I know you are Angel (that’s her name)." Familiar spirits had started working. She was surprised I knew her name. 

And that’s how it all started - my new religion. I was able to convert her and some people that night. I could talk to anyone convincingly and tell them about themselves. What to say would always come. I was twisting God's word and perverting it.