The Destruction And Desolation Of Religiosity And Fake Prophets" By Osula Daniel Enahoro

The destruction and desolation of religiosity and fake prophets. If you do not read your bible yourself to gain wisdom, to understand truth and practice the spirituality of love. If all you do is listen to and be led by the nose by duplicitous folks posing as "men of God" who see you as their ATM and who know that your mumu button is fear of witches and the occult, who manipulate you through ruthless fear mongering, then you are dining directly with the devil and with desolation. The story below tells of rabid wickedness of men who for personal gains strike fear and hatred in their victims to destroy love, peace and families. Read, be sad and get wise:
Religion was the death of my family, and with this Christmas eve comes flooding memories that I just want to get off my mind. The best way to do them is document them here, where I feel more at home with the audience than any real friendship I've ever maintained.
When my mum joined MFM, she became more trouble to herself and everyone around her. Our neighbors became witches. Our friends. Our teachers. Even our relatives. She would say 'don't give this out' 'don't give that out' 'don't collect this' 'don't collect that'. Even after many years later of joining a less dramatic church, those traits didn't leave her. This is why I never go home to Lagos. If I'm in lagos, I put up with my man Pharm. Emeka.
In 2001, I fell very ill, and as usual, mum had started seeing visions of me being eaten in the coven. I drank almost a litre of anointing oil and felt very sick in the stomach. Mum had moved to the church then as she couldn't afford a place of her own being as she initially was a full time house wife and with the recent divorce, she only just got a job.
Popsy on the other hand joined a eh garment church which made him light candles at the corner of our sitting room. One night, there was no light and the house was dark. Sis needed light to cook. My immediate younger brother in his innocence went to my father's supposed altar and picked the half candle there and lit it for sis to see.
When my dad got back, he wanted to light up his altar as usual and sing those nonsense songs. To his astonishment, there was no candle. Man screamed as though he was stabbed. He rushed into his room and came back with a brand new cutlass. He called all of us out and asked who picked a candle from his altar. No one was forth coming with the answer so being the ill one, I took the fall, hoping that as I was sick he would have compassion on me and forgo whatever punishment.
I was wrong. He beat me like a common thief with the cutlass. Put my hands on the desk and wanted to chop it off. For a met candle! Man couldn't contain his fury. I literally stared death in the face.
The next day, I was thrown out of the house and had to end up in the church with mum.
Again, stories of witches and wizard, hundreds of prayer point bulletins and many other such nonsense, was the therapy I received. Mumsy gave big sis anointing oil along side prayer points, to put in whatever food she would be preparing for popsy. Next day, sis came to church with a battered face. Apparently, popsy caught her in the process, religiously chanting the prayer point and dropping oil in the food. Man screamed poison and beat the hell out of her.
Until today, when I see how these siblings still hold on to the same faith that brought them these fates, I only but marvel at the height of their stupidity. But I don't judge them. They may just be too broken to hold unto something. A sort of hope.
This picture is the place my mother lives in maryland, lagos. She pays 800 thousand naira annually. A small rain and thunder brought the house collapsing to it's present state and now, on Christmas eve, my siblings and her have been rendered homeless. I wish I had the picture of my father's mansion in the same Lagos. So, while man sleeps in his edifice, his first wife and first sets of offspring are rendered homeless. I haven't called and will not reach out for any more details than this picture already reveals. Mumsy who sees everyone around her as evil, witches, the enemy and all the nonsense religious stupidity has made her see, would tell me how she would get help from all those 'evil' people around her.
Do I feel sorry for them? Yes. Is there anything I can do? No.
Last time I wanted to sue my dad for child abuse, attempted homicide and every other count I had studied he would be responsible for, mumsy said I was a cursed child. Last night I received a message from a Facebook friend who needed help. Her father arrested her 13 year old brother for alleged theft of his money. Locked him up in the custody of the brutal NPF for a whole day. Many of us are trying to swallow our pains and act like all is well, but in our closet we experience the devil around us more often than not.
I agree. These things no longer affect me since I distanced myself from family. I may seem heartless by telling them to sort themselves out. If prayers ever did anything, for a thousand nights mumsy raised the roofs of houses down with prayers, that sometimes made the landlord issue quit notice, then, she should sort herself out with her god.
There is absolutely nothing I can do about their situation, I would have. I am sorry their christ's birthday this year had a drastic turn of events like this for them. But my father? Oh, the man would surely hear from me.
I am taking a long break from here, because I wouldn't have seen this if I was offline. I wish y'all a merry Christmas and happy new year in advance. I am broken!
Previous Post Next Post