IN ANOTHER MAN'S LAND

White chalk residue still on my hands, I return home, tired from my class teacher job. I had beaten those troublesome pupils with my last ounce of energy. I try to get two hours of sleep. Evangelism is by 4 pm. I've not had any experience of that in this highly spiritual place. This could be the first physical faceoff to a dark spiritual power in a human being.

"Family houuuuuuse!" I heard the annoying jingle jangle of the tambourine from my sleep. It was time for evangelism. The NCCF family house was my home in Benue State. In the mornings, I went to a school to teach almost a hundred pupils in a cramped class and returned there to lay my head. I worked like an elephant but got thrown peanuts every month. The boss usually frowned as he handed over what they felt was just for the two-man job a person did. I was a corper anyway.

Tired, I dressed up for the brief and we dispersed in twos, our hearts beating fast in anticipation of the uncertainty of the next hour. My partner, Gideon was from my platoon in the Wannune camp. It was a land of parades, and beagles, and hopes of relocating to another state had people on their wit’s end. To pass the time, we had conversations that made us feel a little more than soldiers’ puppets. We talked about religion, trusting in God and obeying him for something you weren’t sure about. From the tight schedule of the camp, these were discussions that could only happen while watching football or volleyball matches between the platoons in the evenings.

Continue Reading here: https://heartychristianstories.com/in-another-mans-land/

Hello! As a student, I've found paperhelp.org.uk to be incredibly helpful. Their range of services, from essay writing to editing, is top-notch, and their team of experts delivers quality work promptly. Their customer support is responsive, ensuring a smooth and confidential experience. I've relied on them during busy academic periods and have always been satisfied with the results.

OluwabukolaRuth:
IN ANOTHER MAN'S LAND

White chalk residue still on my hands, I return home, tired from my class teacher job. I had beaten those troublesome pupils with my last ounce of energy. I try to get two hours of sleep. Evangelism is by 4 pm. I've not had any experience of that in this highly spiritual place. This could be the first physical faceoff to a dark spiritual power in a human being.

"Family houuuuuuse!" I heard the annoying jingle jangle of the tambourine from my sleep. It was time for evangelism. The NCCF family house was my home in Benue State. In the mornings, I went to a school to teach almost a hundred pupils in a cramped class and returned there to lay my head. I worked like an elephant but got thrown peanuts every month. The boss usually frowned as he handed over what they felt was just for the two-man job a person did. I was a corper anyway.

Tired, I dressed up for the brief and we dispersed in twos, our hearts beating fast in anticipation of the uncertainty of the next hour. My partner, Gideon was from my platoon in the Wannune camp. It was a land of parades, and beagles, and hopes of relocating to another state had people on their wit’s end. To pass the time, we had conversations that made us feel a little more than soldiers’ puppets. We talked about religion, trusting in God and obeying him for something you weren’t sure about. From the tight schedule of the camp, these were discussions that could only happen while watching football or volleyball matches between the platoons in the evenings.

Continue Reading here: https://heartychristianstories.com/in-another-mans-land/

IN ANOTHER MAN'S LAND (Episode 2)--Follow-up and Disappointment are 5 & 6

“He no go go anywhere!” One of the other men under the tent interjected strongly. I gave him the “so you were listening” look.

“Na him be the head of the oracle in his village, he cannot do what he is saying.” He said, dropping the plier in his hands.


I looked at Mr Ifeanyi who refused to deny or affirm the claim. I was in some alternate universe that didn’t have the casual spirituality I was used to. I had only seen this kind of reality in Mount Zion movies.

“Oracle?” I asked out loud and imagined Mr Ifeanyi on a white wrapper and white chalk markings on his face. His bloodshot eyes from communing in a strange language with the gods of his fathers overnight. His daily life in the shrine made from palm fronds. He didn’t fit the Nollywood image in my mind. Save for the cigarette he was smoking, he looked like an ordinary 30 year-old on the wooden bench. But we know no man according to the flesh. Even if he had made human sacrifices to his gods in the past, God still saw Mr Ifeanyi as who He intended him to be from the beginning. So I clutched my Bible, waiting for Mr Ifeanyi’s response to my question.

“No dey talk that thing, I no dey play. I go find church wey I go go,” He retorted at the interfering man that I was almost convinced.

“He go go church, I believe him,” I said out loud to the plier man, surprising myself. Suppose he didn’t find his way to church soon, he would have found his way to God in ten years time. That was my hope.

Days later, Gideon and I were to do a follow-up of those we had spoken. A concerned me who wanted to make sure Mr Ifeanyi heard my voice was thrown into a spiral of . He denied ever being talked to by any NCCF corper even though he affirmed that he was Mr Ifeanyi. I sighed as I dropped the call. That oracle had a grip stronger than Dangote cement.

Continue Reading here: https://heartychristianstories.com/in-another-mans-land-episode-2/

OluwabukolaRuth:



IN ANOTHER MAN'S LAND (Episode 2)--Follow-up and Disappointment are 5 & 6

“He no go go anywhere!” One of the other men under the tent interjected strongly. I gave him the “so you were listening” look.

“Na him be the head of the oracle in his village, he cannot do what he is saying.” He said, dropping the plier in his hands.


I looked at Mr Ifeanyi who refused to deny or affirm the claim. I was in some alternate universe that didn’t have the casual spirituality I was used to. I had only seen this kind of reality in Mount Zion movies.

“Oracle?” I asked out loud and imagined Mr Ifeanyi on a white wrapper and white chalk markings on his face. His bloodshot eyes from communing in a strange language with the gods of his fathers overnight. His daily life in the shrine made from palm fronds. He didn’t fit the Nollywood image in my mind. Save for the cigarette he was smoking, he looked like an ordinary 30 year-old on the wooden bench. But we know no man according to the flesh. Even if he had made human sacrifices to his gods in the past, God still saw Mr Ifeanyi as who He intended him to be from the beginning. So I clutched my Bible, waiting for Mr Ifeanyi’s response to my question.

“No dey talk that thing, I no dey play. I go find church wey I go go,” He retorted at the interfering man that I was almost convinced.

“He go go church, I believe him,” I said out loud to the plier man, surprising myself. Suppose he didn’t find his way to church soon, he would have found his way to God in ten years time. That was my hope.

Days later, Gideon and I were to do a follow-up of those we had spoken. A concerned me who wanted to make sure Mr Ifeanyi heard my voice was thrown into a spiral of . He denied ever being talked to by any NCCF corper even though he affirmed that he was Mr Ifeanyi. I sighed as I dropped the call. That oracle had a grip stronger than Dangote cement.

Continue Reading here: https://heartychristianstories.com/in-another-mans-land-episode-2/

IN ANOTHER MAN'S LAND EPISODE 4

OluwabukolaRuth:



IN ANOTHER MAN'S LAND (Episode 2)--Follow-up and Disappointment are 5 & 6

“He no go go anywhere!” One of the other men under the tent interjected strongly. I gave him the “so you were listening” look.

“Na him be the head of the oracle in his village, he cannot do what he is saying.” He said, dropping the plier in his hands.


I looked at Mr Ifeanyi who refused to deny or affirm the claim. I was in some alternate universe that didn’t have the casual spirituality I was used to. I had only seen this kind of reality in Mount Zion movies.

“Oracle?” I asked out loud and imagined Mr Ifeanyi on a white wrapper and white chalk markings on his face. His bloodshot eyes from communing in a strange language with the gods of his fathers overnight. His daily life in the shrine made from palm fronds. He didn’t fit the Nollywood image in my mind. Save for the cigarette he was smoking, he looked like an ordinary 30 year-old on the wooden bench. But we know no man according to the flesh. Even if he had made human sacrifices to his gods in the past, God still saw Mr Ifeanyi as who He intended him to be from the beginning. So I clutched my Bible, waiting for Mr Ifeanyi’s response to my question.

“No dey talk that thing, I no dey play. I go find church wey I go go,” He retorted at the interfering man that I was almost convinced.

“He go go church, I believe him,” I said out loud to the plier man, surprising myself. Suppose he didn’t find his way to church soon, he would have found his way to God in ten years time. That was my hope.

Days later, Gideon and I were to do a follow-up of those we had spoken. A concerned me who wanted to make sure Mr Ifeanyi heard my voice was thrown into a spiral of . He denied ever being talked to by any NCCF corper even though he affirmed that he was Mr Ifeanyi. I sighed as I dropped the call. That oracle had a grip stronger than Dangote cement.

Continue Reading here: https://heartychristianstories.com/in-another-mans-land-episode-2/

Faith is a class teacher at the school where you work. Tall, huge and dark-complexioned, she looked like she could farm. Farm work and class teaching were hardly similar. One had ignorant people look at you like you ate humus for dinner, the other had people call you aunty because your reward is in heaven.

Since your first week at the school, Aunty Faith invited you to her house. She wanted to show off her Kopa friend. And the introvert in you who was always ready to be adopted eventually gave in, after she repeatedly visited your class to gist with you during break time. And most of the time, it was to invite you to her home.

"Where you live with your parents?"

"Ehn ehn now,"

You had asked the question because you wondered what the scenario would be. Even your closest friends from the past were only known to your parents through pictures and social media, like when you pointed at Bolaji, a fellow university fresher, as your friend. The one time you'll have no choice but to take a friend home is when you have to introduce the "one" to them. Now, you were the one to be introduced and there was no tutorial on how to behave.

As you pulled Aunty Faith into a warm embrace on that Friday morning, and whispered into her ears, "I'm coming to your house today", and like Zacchaeus when Jesus had said the same thing, her pupils widened in excitement.

By the close of the school hours, several pairs of eyes followed you two as you walked the shortcuts in the market to the main road. They saw a Kopa with a Tiv native and could not hide their curiosity at such a pairing. You had not had anything in your stomach since morning, so you were looking out for women who sold thick and warm, or cold and thin soya milk in coolers, but the corners Aunty Faith took you through had no such women.

As you crossed the main road to a street leading to the outskirts of the town, you thought of taking back your promise, because your head was beginning to ache. Aunty Faith whipped out her Nokia phone and spoke to someone on the phone in the Tiv language. It was a short but purposeful call.

Just a week ago, the local government chairman in that local government was kidnapped and was still in the kidnapper's den. You just realized that you were taking a big risk that your NYSC khaki might be unable to save you from. And it was then you started thinking if you could make up an excuse to escape following her home.

You got to a place where she said she normally would trek but because of the sun, she sometimes took a bike. As you waited with her under the sun for a tricycle because you never took bikes, your heart pounded hard, and you started searching your spirit if it was wise to follow someone you barely knew home. You had to break your no-bike rule since no tricycle would come. A delighted bike man carried you, the Kopa got sandwiched between him and Aunty Faith through the untarred road to a place away from the bustling town.

Continue Reading here: https://heartychristianstories.com/notice-we-want-strangers/