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/

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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/