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This is the diary of a Nigerian Christian Girl- Season 1 Episode 19
Adesuwa’s baby is beautiful.
I wished I was the one sitting with my legs stretched out on the hospital bed, having my child culled up in my bosom, sucking hungrily.
Adesuwa looked radiant even though she also seemed tired. The three women – Mama D, Abigail’s mother and Adesuwa’s mother – began to chat at once saying words like ‘Jesu seun o’ ‘Ayo a kari o.’ ‘Olorun a bawa wo o.’
Abigail was talking quietly to the new mother. When she saw me, she stretched out her hands to hug me.
‘Yemisi baby!’ Abigail said.
I rolled my eyes and pushed her hand away. ‘Who is your baby?’ I turned to Adesuwa and danced on my feet. ‘Latest mother in the house.’
Adesuwa smiled. ‘Miss Yemisi, I’m so happy you are here.’
Abigail held my neck with her hands. ‘How dare you ignore me?’
I pinched her arm. She cringed in pain and released my neck.
‘What was that for?’ Abigail said, slapping me on my back. I returned the slap. She hit me again.
I hit her back. ‘Why didn’t you tell me she was going into labour today?’
Abigail slapped my face and when I wanted to slap her back, she held my hand mid-way. Adesuwa was watching us and giggling. I struggled to pull my hand away but she held on tightly.
‘I’ll pinch you again.’
Abigail finally let go of my hand. ‘I don’t know what you are learning in Mama’s house. In your discipleship meetings, didn’t Mama teach you to say thank you when someone slaps you?’
I pointed a finger at her. ‘You know what I would have done if we were alone in this room. I would have beaten shege out of your body. Why did I have to hear this news from Mama, eh!’
She wrapped her hand around my waist. ‘Ma binu. I wanted to call you when we left for the hospital this morning, but mum didn’t want you to panic. I tried calling again later this afternoon, but your line was busy. I’m sure you were talking with a man.’
Wale. She must have called while I was still talking to Wale.
‘Miss Yemisi. Labour is painful. God! I felt like I was going to die.’ Adesuwa said.
I was about asking her to give me details of her labour experience when the women stopped their private chat and turned their attention to us. Soon, they were sharing funny experiences of their pregnancy and child birth days.
My eyes went to the child in Adesuwa’s arms. How many pregnant teenagers receive the kind of love Adesuwa had been showered with? These women had made the delivery easy for her. They had given her the support she needed to transit to a normal life.
Adesuwa’s mother took the child from her daughter and before long, the teenage girl slept off. Abigail said she had gist for me. We sneaked out of the room and went to the reception.
Abigail couldn’t contain her excitement. ‘Can you remember the last time we spoke, I told you my youth president grouped us into committees for the preparation of the youth convention? I also told you I was made the assistant leader of the committee.’
I nodded. ‘Yes I remember.’
‘Yemisi, hmmm.’ Abigail sighed. ‘The committee members had a meeting where we brainstormed on ideas and after the meeting, my leader called me aside and said he wanted both of us to put the suggestions into workable plans. Babe, that’s how we had a long call that led to other discussions. Oh boy! That guy literally spat out the things I’ve been nursing in my heart.’
I laughed. ‘It’s about time we had another brother on the stage. Thank God! What’s his name?’
My eyes widened. ‘Ibra what? Where for goodness sake is he from?’
‘Kastina. He’s been coming to my church for almost seven years now. His mum was the third wife of one Alhaji and after she got saved, she moved down with her kids to Lagos. He has two sisters. Hadiza and Khadijat. One works in the children department, the other is in the choir.’
‘Ibrahim.’ I muttered underneath my breath.
‘You know how I am with guys. Victor was the only guy I ever thought I’d marry. The short time I’ve spent with Ibrahim is just changing everything. I’m like, God, I have been in the same church with this guy for years, how did I not see this?’
Sincerely, I was happy to hear this from Abigail. I have never met a more stubborn and rigid lady like my friend. All the years she held on to Victor even when the guy was not interested in her, she never for once gave any other man her attention. I remember about four guys or even more who pleaded with me to talk to my friend. In fact for more than two years, one of the guys stayed in pursuit until he got tired.
What did I not say to Abigail? Even her mother couldn’t change her mind. We talked and advised and cajoled. Babe just looked at us and said she wasn’t making a move until she heard God.
Oya, take the suitors to God abi? At least just give them a chance.
Abigail refused. The only leading she’d received was for Victor. She was not making any move until God pointed her in another direction.
Now to hear that she was already considering brother Ibrahim from Kastina. I felt like jumping up and dancing around.
Again, I was afraid for my friend. What if this guy was just being friendly? The last thing I wanted was for my friend to cuddle another ‘ghost’ who knew nothing about how she felt.
‘Do you think he is interested in you? I know you guys have been talking but you can’t just assume he wants to be in a relationship with you.’
Abigail smiled. ‘He has informed my Pastor about his intention.’
My eyes widened. ‘Sharp brother! He does not want to waste time at all.’
‘I guess he made that move after one night we spoke for five hours. Yemisi, me like this, talk to a brother for five hours. I’ve already told him I need time to pray more about this. It just seem too real to be true. I can’t explain the peace I feel right now. .’
I raised my hands in thanksgiving. ‘Thank you Jesus. I can’t wait to meet this Ibrahim to give him a firm handshake. Finally…’
I told Abigail about Wale and how I wanted the relationship to work. The response Abigail gave me did not leave my heart.
‘I know Wale is a changed man now.’ Abigail started. ‘I’m not saying, God can’t lead you to him. But there is a question we are not asking here. Why do you want to get back in a relationship with him? Are you sure you are not doing this out of pity? Wale has gone through a lot, yes. You saw the scars. But really, is that not what is fueling your interest? Babe, you need to let the Word dissect the intent of your heart. It’s important we do marriage with a right motive.’
I kept thinking of those words as I left the hospital with Mama. Why did I really want to marry Wale? When I searched for a reason, what I kept seeing was Wale wandering around the supermarket, Wale with scars on his back, the promise I made to stay with him no matter what happened. Somewhere in my heart, I felt it was my duty to take care of him. Was that a good reason to get married?
‘Are you okay?’ Mama asked me as we pulled into traffic.
‘I’m fine ma.’ I replied. I wished I could talk to her about how I felt but she might get upset that I was still holding on to Wale. I closed my eyes and prayed silently.
Jesus, I am your daughter. I have clarity concerning this. Help me see the truth. If I’m going the wrong path, please call me to order.
I prayed until we got home and by then, my mind was calm and the anxiety had cleared off.
Papa was having a bible study in the living room with some of his mentees. Mama and I joined them and as my eyes caught Wale listening intently to Papa, I knew in my heart that he was not the one.
It was as if a scale had dropped from my eyes. This was not my man. My lips re-echoed my thoughts and then the fear returned. How do I tell him without breaking his heart?
I didn’t concentrate all through the bible study. Even when I sat in the dining room to eat dinner, I was still struggling with the thoughts. Will Mama agree to tell him on my behalf? I already knew the answer to that. Mama will never do that.
‘Are you sure you are fine?’ Mama asked again.
I flashed her a smile. ‘Yes I am.’
I prayed more that night, hoping to hear a different response. Instead, it became stronger in my heart that Wale wasn’t the guy.
So, who for goodness sake was this person? I kept praying until I slept off on the floor.
I had a dream that night.
I was in a hall filled with people. I could see Ebun sitting somewhere in the congregation. The head of the Zion Teens was seated somewhere at the front. Some of the guys who had stayed with Ayo in Mama’s house were present. On the podium, the founder of the Zion Missions, Elder Makinde, a man in his fifties, held a microphone. I’d not met him in person but I’d seen his picture several times.
In the dream, I walked behind a man who held my hand and led me towards the podium. There was a wedding ring on my finger. It was clear that the man was my husband. We got to the front of the podium and knelt down. The founder of the Zion Missionsrayed for us.
I woke up, annoyed.
I tried to sleep back so I could see the face of the brother. But sleep didn’t come. I tried and tried again. Who could this person be?
Rest in me and wait patiently for me.
‘God, at least just reveal the face of this brother.’ I prayed quietly. ‘I promise I’ll wait for as long as you want me to. I just want to see his face.’
When I slept back, I saw that I was sitting under a tree with some teenagers sharing God’s word with them. No brother showed up.
I remained on the bed, daydreaming of the brother without a face. Maybe I’d meet him at my training sessions. Maybe he was also a worker at the Zion Teens.
I sighed in frustration when I remembered the training was still three months away. I was so eager to meet this person.
Mama’s voice pushed me out of my thoughts. I didn’t know when she entered my room. She sat on my bed.
‘It’s almost eight o’clock and you are still on the bed. That’s unusual. What is the matter?’
I finally told her how I felt about Wale and the dream I had. I told her I wanted to meet the man I’d seen in the dream.’
‘Yemisi, calm down. God has already told you what you should be doing now. Rest and wait. Put the dream aside and keep doing what you have been called to do. When it’s time, God will bring the right person.’
I slid my feet into my slippers. ‘Do you think I should tell Wale about not being led to him?’
‘Yes.’ Mama said as we walked out of the room together.
I was too scared to talk to him. I keep postponing until almost two weeks when I finally took the courage to tell him what I sensed God was saying. That morning, I stood on the veranda waiting for him to return from his usual prayer walk.
My heart skipped when I heard the gate opened. He was smiling as he bounced towards the house.
‘Daughter of the most high.’ Wale said. ‘Hope you slept well.’
‘Wale, can we talk?’ I said quickly before I lost the courage and change my mind. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve taken permission from Mama. She says it’s fine.’
He stared at me for a while and together we went to the spot where he had pulled his shirt and showed me his scars. I didn’t know how to start.
‘Okay, Wale, I’ve been praying about us.’ I hesitated. Lord, help me through this. ‘You asked for another chance. I really want it but God is not giving me a go-ahead.’
When Wale didn’t say anything, I became worried. ‘I have prayed. I mean I struggled but still I heard the same thing.’
Wale let out a deep breath. ‘I told Papa exactly what you just said. I told him I didn’t know how to tell you that we weren’t meant to be in a relationship. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.’
My hand flew to my mouth. ‘What! To think I’ve been so worried of how to say this to you.’
He smiled. ‘I told God to put us both on the same page.’
I bent my head and chuckled, ‘This God ehn.’
‘Your husband is close Yemisi.’ Wale said. ‘I was praying for you this morning and I sense very strongly that God would have you stay focused on the assignment before you. There is no need to be anxious or worried. He is sorting things out.’
‘Thank you Wale. God has been speaking in that light too. But what about you? Have you sensed any leading to anyone?’
Wale rubbed his knees. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be married till the next three to four years. There is a lot of training and work I have to do. Right now, God is prompting me to pick a master’s degree form and just when I wondered how I was going to pay my way through it, Papa called me to his room to tell me about a professor friend of his who needed a part-time research assistant. I’ll be seeing him next week.’
My mouth opened in surprise. ‘Wow!’
‘One of Papa’s mentees wants me to facilitate some classes in real estate for his online business academy. You know real estate is all I did after school. The pay is cool. There is also ministry to learn, evangelistic outreaches to plan. Marriage is so not in my schedule for now. I know when it’s time God will bring her.’
He winked at me. ‘We shall come for your wedding. I’m not going to eat rice o. I want amala and gbegiri with plenty shaki.’
I laughed. We talked about other things until it was almost dark. After we returned to the main house, I went straight into the room and fell on my knees.
‘Lord, you keep in perfect peace whose heart is stayed on you. I trust my future into your hands. Help me Lord to stay focused on what you’ll have me do this season. Oh yes! My heart is at peace trusting the Lord.’
My phone beeped. Reluctantly, I took it from under my pillow. It was a text message from Ayomide.
Hi Yemisi, sorry I’ve not called. Hope you are good? I’ll reach you soon.
I hissed and threw my phone to the bed and continued with my prayers.
‘God, please when are you going to lead me to this brother? Why is it so difficult for me to get clarity in this area? Is there something I’m not getting right? Oh Lord!’
Yemisi, keep your focus on what I’ve called you to do, the man will meet you on your way.
Those words were clear in my spirit. The man would meet me while I’m busy with my Father’s assignment
I travelled home with Yewande and her kids for Akin’s wedding. Yeah, my brother is a big boy. The guy has created a niche for himself in the agricultural sector. The last time mum came to Lagos, she told me he’d been selected for a nine month training in Netherlands and she had insisted on having the wedding before he leaves the country.
The taxi dropped us in front of my parent’s house. I was annoyed to see our open compound crowded with people.
‘What are they all doing here? For goodness sake, the wedding is still a week away.’ I said to my sister as we pulled our belongings out of the trunk.
Yewande grinned. ‘This week is going to be fun!’
I noticed a three legged pot standing on pieces of firewood at one corner of the house. Two young women with wrapper tied around their chest were squatting and using torn carton papers to fan the fire from the wood. Some of my cousin were playing football at the back of the house. Some girls played ‘ten-ten’ close to Akin’s car.
The moment they noticed our arrival, shouts of joy rang everywhere. My cousins were all over us, clapping and dancing. One of my favourite cousins heard the shout and ran out of the kitchen with a small tuber of yam in one hand and a knife in another. When she charged at me, I shouted at her to put the knife down.
I grew up here with all of these people. They slept in my house and I did in theirs. The bond between my dad’s siblings had spread to their kids and grandkids. We were one big family. My mother’s extended family was the opposite. Mum and her siblings rarely saw eye to eye. It was no surprise that she became closer to my father’s sisters than she did with her own blood relations.
The only thing that bothered me about dad’s family was my cousin sisters who never saw beyond marriage. As far as they were concerned, getting married and having children was the definition of life for them. How do you finish secondary school and the only thing you can think about is marriage?
Anyway, I was not surprised when later that evening, three of them surrounded me, their faces full of pity.
‘Yemisi, kilo nsele. Where’s your boyfriend?’ One of them asked.
‘Hope you are not doing like all these Lagos people that want to make plenty money before they marry. Egbon, ko le pay eh o. It’s not good at all.’ Another one added
‘Time is going o. We are your sisters and we have to tell you the truth.’ The third one said. She pointed to her son playing with some of his cousins. ‘My son is eight years old and just look at me, at twenty-eight, I still dey kampe!’
My other cousin slapped her playfully. ‘Awon fine chic. Omo to fine. Omo to set.’
She turned 360 degree slowly with her hands on her waist. The other two ladies chanted praises at her. She stopped in front of me.
‘I have four children and the last of them has started school already. When I go to the market to sell my wares, I have rest of mind. Do this thing now that you have the strength’ She responded in yoruba.
‘Be deceiving yourself, another boy is coming. You will soon tell us that you are pregnant.’ One of my cousins said to her.
She snapped her fingers over her head. ‘Eleda mi ko! I reject it in Jesus name. Baby keh? If Baba Ade wants more children, he should go somewhere else. Not this body.’
I stood there irritated as they gabbled here and there in yoruba. When I couldn’t stand their chatters, I quietly moved away from them. You won’t believe that between the time I left my cousins till I got to my parent’s room, five of my aunts had asked me what was wrong with me.
‘What’s the matter?’ ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘What is the problem?’
For goodness sake, how does my not being in a relationship translate to a problem? One of my aunts said, she heard what happened between me and Wale andbecause all men were stupid like that. Did they even know that Wale was ready to dump me for another lady because of green card?
An older cousin said, I wouldn’t find a man who did not cheat and I had better come to terms with that truth.
One even had the guts to say that when her husband shouts and orders her around, it was an evidence of his manhood. I was so disgusted as I hurried to my parents’ room. I was about to start ranting when I entered the room to find my sister shouting at my mother.
‘Why will you tell my aunts about my family? Why?’
My mother didn’t answer her. She sat on the bed and continued to fold the aso-oke and lace she planned to use for the wedding. Dad was on the bed, his hands lay weak by his side.
‘Mummy, It’s not fair. This is my life. Everybody now knows that my husband has refused to let me go to Benin. Did they need that information?’
My mother stopped what she was doing and looked at her daughter. ‘At least I didn’t tell them what your husband is doing in Benin.’
‘Whatever! They don’t have a right to know about my life without my permission. I don’t need any self-pity glances from them. Is their family perfect? They are just low life people who do nothing but pop out babies. They can’t even hold an intelligent conversation.’
I glanced at my sister with an expression that says, ‘so how are they different from you?’
Mum stood up. ‘You don’t talk about our family like that, Yewande. I know everything that goes on in their families. We don’t keep secrets from each other. We pray together. We cry together. I didn’t do anything wrong.’ My mother walked slowly to her box. ‘In fact, just go away from my room if you don’t have anything reasonable to say.’
Yewande stormed out of the room. I sat on the edge of the bed and touched my father’s legs. He gave me a weak smile. Mum was obviously still seething and I wondered if this was the best time to tell her about my resignation from Pavilion.
‘Abi, are you here to shout at me too?’ My mother turned slightly towards me as she placed the clothes in her box. Mum and her clothes sha. She can arrange that box like hundred times a day.
Mum looked at me, angry. ‘Ba egbon e soro. She should not be talking to me like that!’
I went to her and placed my hand on her shoulder. ‘E ma binu ma. Don’t be angry. Just forgive her.’
Mum pulled my hand away as if my hand on her skin irritated her. ‘We told her not to marry that man but she insisted. She brought this upon herself.’
I stared at my mother, shocked. What was my mother saying? She had been bugging my sister to bring a man home from the time she got her NYSC posting letter to Nasarawa. It was true my mother didn’t like him but she hadn’t objected.
‘Why are you looking at me like that!’
I moved away from her. ‘Nothing. I’ll just go and help out with dinner.’
Later that week, I told my parents about leaving Pavilion for a mission agency. The first question Mum asked me was ‘how much is the pay?’
I told her once I join the team fully, I’d be paid thirty thousand naira monthly. My mother started shouting at the top of her voice.
‘Yemisi, you left a job that paid you three hundred thousand naira for thirty thousand. Omo yin, Ooo gbon! You don’t have sense. Ni bo lo fi opolo e si? Are you okay at all?’
‘Mummy, that’s what God wants me to do. I want to serve God.’
My mother almost slapped me. She left her room and I knew she had gone to report me to my aunts. I sat on their bed, frustrated. Dad was still in the same position and this time his gaze was fixed on me. I climbed the bed, wrapped my hands around him and placed my head on his chest.
Dad had not said a word since I got there. I wanted him to say something. I wanted to hear his voice. I raised my head and touched his cheeks tenderly.
‘Dad, you are healed in Jesus name. Every organ in your body functions to the perfection God ordained them to function.’
Dad nodded his head slowly. I placed my head on his chest while tears trickled down my face.
An emergency meeting was called that night. Four of my father’s sisters sat in the small living room while Yewande and Akin stood at a corner with some of my cousins. My aunties started to talk one after the other. One told the story of a woman who was beaten to death by her evangelist husband. Another one said the former Pastor of her church raped the house help for years even though his wife knew about it. One said, her neighour’s brother, a missionary, died of poverty. They were just making so much effort to discourage me.
Mum looked sternly at me. ‘Have you heard what everybody has said? When you return to Lagos, look for another job! Stop the-‘
She was interrupted by the eldest sibling of my father. ‘Leave her to do what she wants. If she wants to serve the Lord, He will take care of her.’ The old woman said in Yoruba.
That ended the meeting. I mean nobody objected, not even my mother. It was always like that. Once Mama Ijebu spoke, no one dared argue with her. I wanted to run to hug her but I restrained myself.
My mum kept snapping at me at any slight provocation. She kept saying that they trained us to support the family but my sister and I were now irresponsible children. We didn’t care about them and only my brother was making sense with his farm business. She said if she had known she’d not have wasted her money after our secondary school education. We’d have ended up selling fish or tomatoes in the market like my cousins.
I tried not to get angry and to prevent that, I stayed out of her way.
Two days before Akin’s wedding, Simeon called and said while he was praying, God told him I needed some money. He sent me a hundred thousand naira. Immediately, I went to the bank and withdrew the money.
The night after the wedding, I handed my mother an envelope. Reluctantly, she opened it. When she saw the one thousand naira notes in the envelope, she gasped and stared at me.
‘Where did you get this from? I thought you said you’ve left your job.’
‘You can be sure I didn’t steal it.’
‘I’m not saying you stole it. Owo re…But how?’
I touched my mother’s shoulder. ‘God takes care of his own and you can be sure I’ll take care of you.’
Mum’s attitude changed after that day.
Time ran so fast. Even when Andrew called to inform me that the training had been moved to December, it still didn’t slow anything down.
I spent a lot of time with Ebun learning to bake cake and small chops. Yeah, that was part of the instructions I received after I returned from my brother’s wedding. I didn’t even know Ebun was skillfull in those areas. I thought she only knew how to make cookies and spring rolls. She taught me how to make bags, throw pillows, liquid soap and disinfectants.
‘I have trained lots of girls in the North with this.’ Ebun said. ‘Skills like these are always useful on the mission field.’
I was so busy that I didn’t even have time to think about getting into a relationship. Yeah, once in a while, I brooded over it but tasks snapped me out of those thoughts. There was just so much to do. Apart from the skill acquisition programs, I had retreats with Ebun, personal retreat for myself, a three week rigorous online coaching class to attend, online discipleship meetings with my Cornerstone College students, prayers with Mama, private meetings with Papa. I’d never been busy like that in my life.
Even Wale got really busy too. We hardly saw and when we did, we talked for long about ministry, career and our walk with God.
I was happy with my life even though I was expecting to meet my guy at the training center. I had different pictures in my head. Maybe he’d be a new member like me, a banker maybe, who had obeyed instructions to leave the job and join the mission. Could he be one of the facilitators? Like I stated earlier, those thoughts didn’t stay long in my head, because there was so much to do.
Two days before my trip to Osogbo, I made muffins and throw pillows for Simeon and Ebun as a thank you gift for helping me step into the fulfilment of God for my life.
I was almost in tears as I presented the gift to them. I would miss them for the months I’d be away. I wasn’t even sure I’d have the opportunity to see them again when I return to get the rest of my things. Andrew had said there were outreaches already lined out for the coming year.
I was a soldier waiting to be posted wherever God would need my service. We had a nice time that afternoon. Simeon took us to a nice restaurant. We got ice-cream, barbeque, rice… I ate until my stomach couldn’t take in any more food.
When we finally parted, I was crying. Ebun cried too.
‘Thank you for everything.’ I said to Ebun before hugging her husband.
‘If you need anything, we are just a call away.’ Simeon said.
I nodded. ‘Greet everyone at Pavilion Agency especially Jide.’
‘Sure.’ He said.
I couldn’t stop crying in the cab Simeon ordered took me home. I thought of the new life ahead and what I was going to encounter. There would be more tears to shed when Abigail and Mama D drives me to the park on my departure day.
God, I trust you. I know you have the best in mind for me. Help me to always stay at the center of your will.
When I returned from Simeon’s place, I stepped into my room to see that my clothes had been ironed and neatly folded on the ironing table. I stood there speechless, looking at Mama’s mentees who had occupied the room with me for some months now. They were grinning from ear to ear.
‘Thank you so much. You guys are amazing.’ I said as I hugged them.
Mama D entered the room, her eyes moving from one part of the room to the other.
‘Somebody is getting ready for the work of the ministry.’
I smiled. ‘Mum, you won’t believe this. They ironed my clothes. I was already thinking of how I would do that tonight.’
Mama D winked at them. ‘I gave birth to correct children.’ She faced me. ‘Someone is waiting for you in Papa’s study.’
I looked at her, puzzled. ‘Who?’
‘Go and find out.’ She responded.
I looked from the mentees to my mentor and hurried out of the room. As I entered the study, a man was sitting on the sofa, bent over a book.
The dream I had where I knelt down with a man in front of the founder of Zion Missions returned.
This was the man.
I knew it for sure.
It was as if I was in a moment when an unveiling was to be done. The man raised his head and looked at me.
I gasped and covered my mouth. ‘Oh my God! Ayo!’
He grinned and came to me. My hands were trembling. I couldn’t move from the spot where I was. I couldn’t believe the images playing in my head.
Ayo led me to the sofa and sat beside me. ‘Yemisi, I’m sorry for the silence. Papa wanted me to stop communicating with you for a while until I was convinced of what I’d told him.’
‘What did you tell him?’ I already knew the answer to the question. My heart was already telling me what it was he wanted to say. I stayed quiet and listened.
‘Yemisi, I believe you are my wife. I know in my heart that we have a mission together and…’ He paused and sighed. ‘I’m convinced about us.’
When he stopped talking, I couldn’t say anything for a while. Everything was making sense. It was as if the angels were standing behind me clapping and singing.
‘I’m kicking off training in two days.’ I said, finally.
‘I know. Whenever you are done praying about it, Let me know your response.’
We sat there in silence and I was so overwhelmed by my emotions that I had to excuse myself from the study. I was bursting with excitement and when I slept, I saw that I was standing before the mirror, rehearsing my wedding dance steps. Abigail was sitting on the bed, clapping as I danced.
Ayomide and I have been married a year and six months. Today is the last day of the Zion Mission Stewards Conference in Jos. Elder Makinde called both of us to the altar and commissioned us to take over the work in Ghana. It was exactly as I had seen before I got married to Ayo.
Interestingly, from the first week of our marriage, we had known we would be sent to Ghana, we just didn’t know when. We had been prepared for it. We’d also seen that we’d be returning to Nigeria to organize secondary school fellowships across Lagos. We don’t know when that would happen. We knew a lot of things but we are careful to be sensitive to God’s timing.
So right now, I’m sitting in our hotel room. The conference is over and we’ll be travelling back home tomorrow. I’ll have to break the news to Mama and Papa..
and yeah…Mama and Papa are still in Lagos raising more disciples. I have found a way to push Yewande to them. Her husband is still hooked up with that woman in Benin.
Abigail is married. Babe is in Lagos with her husband.
My parents are doing well. I’m particularly happy with the progress of my father’s health. God is faithful! Dad has started walking again. The day he spoke to me on the phone, I cried with joy. He is insisting on returning to the farm. Mum doesn’t want it but Akin has assured my mother that he’ll always watch out for dad.
The love my mother has for my husband, I don’t understand. I’m beginning to think she loves him more than she loves me.
I heard from Adesuwa last week. She just got admission into the University of Ibadan. She is studying Psychology. That was surprising for me though because since I knew her, she’d always wanted to study medicine. Before she filled her JAMB form, she’d said this to me,
‘Miss Yemisi, I know exactly what God wants me to do. When I’m done with my first degree in Psychology, I will travel out of this country to do my MSc in Clinical Pyschology. I’ll also run a course in Guidance and Counselling.’
Did I tell you she had distinctions in all the subjects she took in her West African Certificate Examination? I still remember visiting her before I started my training at Zion Teens. I met her sitting on the veranda weeping. She didn’t want to be in the same class with her juniors in SS3 and her father was insisting she returned to Cornerstone College. The Principal had pleaded to have her back in his school. After nursing the child for some months, she handed the boy over to her mother and moved into the boarding house.
Ebun is pregnant. She told me when we met on the first day of the conference. I almost screamed. Simeon will be a father soon. At least, her mother would stop pressurizing her.
My Cornerstone college disciples are doing so well. I am amazed at their spiritual progress. Few weeks ago, Dotun’s best friend informed me that he had been me that he appointed the assistant bible study co-ordinator of his campus fellowship. My eyes welled up in tears when he said;
‘Aunty Yemisi, I wish Dotun was still alive, maybe we’d be serving God together.’
He also told me about an urge to start a prayer group with some of the Cornerstone College disciples for depressed teenagers. I’m so excited at what God is doing with those students. Some of them are scattered across universities in Nigeria.
I’d have to send a message to them once I return home from the conference. I’ll miss all my family in Nigeria but then the work of God must go on.
I have to stop now. Jason is crying again. Chei! My son loves food ehn…
My dear blog family,
I hope you enjoyed this story. A journey that started on the 17th of February, 2020 has finally come to an end. It was exactly as I perceived in my heart last year. This story series will run from February to June, the Lord had said.
To think I almost doubted those words. How would I sustain a story for that long? Won’t my readers get bored at some point? For each episode, I found the Lord giving specific pattern to follow. It again shows that I am only a vessel to carry out God’s message. I thank God for choosing me for this task.
Here’s the plan for each season of ‘The Diary of a Nigerian Christian Girl’.. Each season comes with a fresh story of a girl’s (a.k.a lady, woman) journey through life. You’ll be notified when the season will commence.
Thank you also for leaving comments on the blog. I read all your responses. Some of your comments are messages in themselves. Thank you for sharing your testimonies on how this series blessed you.
I want to thank my dear sister and flatmate, Priscilla Oyewole. She’s been there from the time I struggled to pen down the first episode till this last episode. She was always ready to proofread each episode and never hesitated to share her thoughts on my flow and usage of words. Trust me when I say we all need a Priscilla in our lives. I love you Priscilla. The Lord bless you.
We’ll be taking a break off the blog from next week. The blog will resume on the 6th July, 2020.Remember to join my telegram channel for updates.
Here’s the link below.
I love you fam!