It used to be an endless circle
of oppression for me. I battled dreams
and bedwetting from childhood till age 23.
My mum and I stepped into every
place possible: we slept on church mountains,
visited Babalawo (herbalists),
Alfa's coven, and frequented white
and red garment churches.
Sometimes in the white garment church,
I attended most of their services,
their Woli (Prophet) would call me
to come out, that he had a word
of wisdom to share with me.
I will go out and the next thing
is they ask me to kneel.
The woli would start the usual line
of "an evil spirit is tormenting you,
a spirit husband is disturbing you,
this and that..."
I will be thinking I will be
prayed for me and the affliction
will be over but all they do is
ask you to bring a huge amount
What a burden!
Even after paying the money,
hoping that the so-called spirit
and all is gone, the next Sunday
another prophet will reach out
saying the same thing.
A particular one even came with a
broom to flog me.
I was like wait, Jesus no do all
this one na Abi Kini gan.