TO BE DELIVERED IN THE NAME OF GOD

TO BE DELIVERED IN THE NAME OF GOD

In 2014, my older sister, Karen, asked me to give my phone to her friend, Yomi. You see, I had two phones, a BlackBerry and a Nokia E3. Before I had the Blackberry, I used the Nokia phone for everything, even WhatsApp. When I got the Blackberry, I switched all my online activities to it, and kept the Nokia as a backup. I however deleted WhatsApp from the Nokia and logged out of other applications. Regarding WhatsApp, I figured deleting the app was faster and better than clearing my conversations one by one.

So, my sister was about to go on a trip and she needed to leave her Android phone at home. So, she took her friend, Yomi’s phone; he was using one of those really small Nokia phones that are only good for calls, SMS and flashlight. Then she asked me to give Yomi my Nokia E3 for him to use for just that weekend while she was away with his phone. I agreed to this, because I believed I had cleared anything from the phone that could “implicate” me. I even double-checked my text messages to be safe before I gave Yomi the phone.

But the Universe had decided to get the ball rolling on my destiny, because not only did Yomi go on to download WhatsApp on the phone he was only going to use for a couple of days, he also selected the option of restoring old conversations. I didn’t know that all my messages had remained backed up despite the deletion of the app. And so, Yomi retrieved my messages and read every single conversation, after which he called my sister and told her of what he’d learned.

Yomi had always been on my case. My sister never cared about my mannerisms or the way I dressed because I was very effeminate as a child and I’d always been different from the other boys. She didn’t care about all that. She even used to hand down her jeans to me; she always loved how I had the figure to pull them off. Other members of our family always joked about how she and I were the closest in the family despite the age gap (she is 9 years older than me), and how she had a rather masculine physique and a tomboyish persona that complemented my effeminacy and feminine curves.

She however had had a thing or two to say about my friends being too effeminate as well, but she enjoyed their company too much to make much of a big deal about it.

But I was getting older, and so, acting like my “eccentricities” were not going to make me stand out was not going to be an option for too long. She had started paying some attention, though hesitantly, to what the neighbours and her friends had to say about her girly little brother.

Yomi was at the top of the list because he was closest to her. He would always comment to her about my tight clothes (some of which she had handed down to me), my effeminacy and my friends, and the fact that I had no girlfriend and hardly ever spoke about girls. She refused to pay attention to his comments because she was used to me; she had known me to be this way for all the eighteen years of the life I spent being this way.

Undaunted, one day, Yomi took me out, got me a couple of drinks in me, before springing the question on me about whether I am gay. I was so shocked by the question, that it took a great deal of effort to stay poker-faced as I answered no. that incident, knowing that this was the length this guy was willing to go to out me to my sister, made me realize I had to be more careful. I begged my friends to tone their sass down, while I tried to be more boyish and wear clothes that weren’t so body-hugging.

I had hooked up with a guy, Wizzy, who came to work in a company in my hometown. It was a brief affair and we went our separate ways after a few hookups. Then I started dating someone else. Just before I got my BlackBerry and deleted the WhatsApp application from the Nokia, Wizzy texted me, wanting us to get together again. I refused his proposition, letting him know I was in a relationship, and he responded by saying he missed having sex with me and that he missed my ass.

The conversation was long past and the WhatsApp application long deleted, but Yomi went and dug it up and read enough to prove his suspicions to my sister.

She saw the conversation when she returned from her trip, and we had a talk. It was an emotional talk, with me crying and begging her not to tell our parents. She agreed, but she gave me conditions: to never disrespect her in her home, to limit the queer friends I had and how much they visited, and to never do “it” again. I agreed to them all. Of course, I did.

I told my friends (as clearly as I could) that they had to visit less because my sister had clocked me. But I was pouring water into a basket. They continued to visit AS MUCH as they could and they DID NOT tone down the femininity at all. I didn’t know what to say to them anymore. What could I say? I loved them.

But I made an effort still. I made my circle of friends smaller than it already was, and I didn’t go out as much, preferring to stay indoors. As for my boyfriend, I had to break up with him. I hadn’t intended to. At first, I just needed some space until this thing with my sister had blown over, but he refused to understand, accusing me of wanting to get rid of him. So, I did.

As I made these adjustments, gradually, my life lost its colour and I started battling with depression.

Fortunately, in November of 2014, I gained admission into university. It was a dream come true, because this was my fourth try and I was on the verge of giving up.

In January 2015, I moved to school to squat with my friend in the hostel. I was finally free of the prison that was my sister’s place. I started to feel alive again and it felt good.

But all good things come to an end as I had to move back home at the end of the session when the hostels were locked down and all the occupants were evacuated.

Being back home this time wasn’t as hellish as it was before. Enough time had passed since Yomi outed me to my sister, enough time to blunt tenseness surrounding that situation. I’d also enjoyed the freedom that came with being on my own at school. Maybe I’d enjoyed too much freedom, because I must have forgotten all that happened months ago and went back to having friends over and mouthing off at my sister. She was pretty controlling and I was growing into a man, so I thought I had rights. I was so stupid.

Karen must have started calling our mother to complain about my disrespect and how I was following “bad” friends, because my mom often called to advise me. But I was headstrong and some of my friends weren’t the best influence either. By the time a new session started, I’d gotten some money from my dad and wanted to rent a place, but it was too little for a decent apartment. So, I considered pairing with a friend. That did not work out, so I had to commute to school from my sister’s house. This did not help our relationship much; I was always at loggerheads with her, because she was always so controlling and I was always so stubborn.

In 2016, she travelled for a few days and told me she didn’t want my friends moving in while she was gone. I agreed. I told my friends, but as usual, this didn’t stop them at all. They came to my place with their bags, prepared to stay for the duration of my sister’s time away. I couldn’t complain though; I enjoyed the company.

A couple of days to when she was going to return, I started reiterating to my friends that it was time for them to start getting ready to leave. No one listened to me; everyone just kept on being comfortable in the house. On the day she was to come home, I repeated my warnings, urging them to at least take away their bags so it wouldn’t be obvious that they’d been crashing here. They did take their bags home, but most of them left behind items of clothing and shoes all about the house. After taking their bags home, they CAME BACK. I had to all but kick them out, and my efforts were still futile, as my sister eventually came home to meet them. I was stricken with guilt as she went about the house, supremely pissed, ranting and pointing out all the evidence that showed I’d disobeyed her. I couldn’t even argue because I knew I’d done a shitty thing. She yelled and yelled, and then stormed out after dropping her bags.

A few days passed and she didn’t return. I stayed at home, anxiously waiting for whatever punishment she was going to pass on me whenever she returned.

Finally, she called, telling me to come home to my mom’s house (my parents are divorced), that our mother wanted my help with something. It never occurred to me that she had reneged on her word to me to not tell our family about my homosexuality.

When I got to my mom’s house, it was to meet her and my oldest sister, Charity. Karen had told them I was gay, and I was ambushed into an intervention. The two of them confronted me about it, and I could not deny it. My mom kept on saying she’d suspected as much. She was so upset, and eventually said something that broke my heart.

Staring at me with her distressed eyes, she said out loud, “What did I give birth to?”

This statement cut me deep, and my heart started aching with welling misery. But I stayed composed.

By the end of the intervention, they decided to take me to a church the following Wednesday for deliverance. I had no fight in me, so I went along with their decision.

This became the beginning of a different kind of hell for me.

It was a Wednesday. My sister, Charity, was the one who took me to the church. Before then, my mother had asked me not to mention this to my father. As if I ever would.

The service was soon underway, and went on for a few hours before the “prophecies” commenced. These people were so excited to have someone play a guessing game with their lives in the name of prophecy. It was a sad thing to watch. Halfway through the service, after the prophetess had finished prophesying for a bunch of over-enthusiastic members, our eyes met and she called me out. I moved with the most reluctant gait to the altar, prompting the other worshippers to start hollering at me, hurling their distaste at me over how I should be running to the altar. I ignored them, and by the time I got to the altar, Charity was also there with me.

Then, the prophetess started. She said that I was a cultist. I denied that. Then, she said I had a friend who was a cultist. That part was true, actually. My best friend was a cultist. It was nothing I was proud of, but it was true.

However, at the time, cultism and gang activities had overridden the youths in my hometown, so much so that three out of every five guys from the age of fifteen and above were either involved in gang activities or had friends or relatives who were. So, it was a very lucky guess. However, I stared the prophetess dead in the eye and denied it. My sister immediately cried out “It’s true”, and mentioned my friend’s name. Feeling smug and emboldened, the prophetess went on about how I’d drank something while I was with my friend and his gang members, and that it was going to kill me. I didn’t react to this; I merely stood there, showing absolutely no enthusiasm. And this seemed to make her mad, because she went on to furiously say that I wasn’t ready to be saved, that I should go back to my seat and come to her when I was ready. I happily walked back to my seat. Her worshippers were furious, scowling and hissing at me for wasting what they called an opportunity.

I didn’t care. I just wanted to go home.

After a while, the prophetess began going around, touching people on the head. Her touch got the predictable reactions of worshippers whirling about, some of them falling to the ground where they thrashed about, as the “Spirit” took possession of their bodies.

When she got to me, she touched my head. I stood firmly and looked placidly back at her. She touched me repeatedly a few times, pushing my head back, and still I wouldn’t play her game. Finally, she heaved the sorrowful sigh of one who had finally encountered a special evil spirit that she would need time to vanquish, and said I should come see her during the week.

My sister was excited by this, and after the service, went to see the church workers to schedule an appointment for the next day, Thursday. As we went home, she chastised me, saying I ought to be more cooperative with the prophetess’s efforts to deliver me.

Thursday came, and it was my mom who took me to see the prophetess this time. There was a bunch of people waiting to see the woman. It would eventually get to our turn, and when we went into her office, she started with the prophecies again. Going on about how I would die right after school and the money my parents had spent on my education would have been a waste. Talked about how my father’s hands were unclean and how my stepmother had been made useless by his powers. (This caused my mother to perk up with some pleasure. Any news about something going wrong in my father’s new household always warmed her heart.)

Then, my mother mentioned the part about me being homosexual, and the all-knowing prophetess said she already knew, but didn’t want to say anything.

Sure, I thought snidely, as I stared disbelievingly at her. You can boldly tell my mother that I am a cultist and I will die soon, but being homosexual is where you drew the line?

She went on to say that it wasn’t my fault – and for a second, I thought she knew what she was talking about. Until she started going on about how it was a marine spirit represented by a big snake that had possessed me and turned me this way. She said the snake was also like a third eye that helped me identify other people possessed with snakes.

I had to laugh a little at this in my head, as I thought: Bitch, that’s called a GAYDAR!

Then she said when we (the snake people) hooked up with non-snake people, our snake slipped into them (no pun intended) and possessed them too.

At this point, I was having quite a laugh in my head.

She told my mother that we would have to do a three-day fasting and prayer session while I stayed there in the church with them. She listed a bunch of things my mother should buy. I remember her mentioning a white garment, white socks, white gloves, cotton wool, brooms, coconuts, and a few other things.

The worst was yet to come.

TO BE CONTINUED

Written by Rolex

Previous To All The Boys I’ve Loved
Next TO BE DELIVERED IN THE NAME OF GOD (PART 2)

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  1. Isaac Prodigy
    April 04, 07:53 Reply

    Growing up in a family with so much love for God and church, they were times my parents invited “prophet and prophetesses” to come and pray in the house, when they come i usually have this fear that they’d reveal my sexuality to my parents during the cause of their prophecy but fortunately for me they end up seeing what is not even close to what I do. One of them has prophecied that I should stop smoking, drinking and keeping late night, when my parents heard this they laughed so hard after the prophet had gone saying they know very well that I don’t do such. I have issues when these prophet and prophetesses believe that being gay is marine possession.

    • Higwe
      April 04, 09:30 Reply

      Most of them are fake .
      Tell me which of the celebrated prophets or pastors predicted coronavirus …these people release a plethora of prophecies every new year but none could tell that a virus would disrupt all our lives and crash the world’s economy.

      A god that can tell you which governor is getting impeached and which celebrity is barren can’t warn you about a worldwide pandemic ??.

      If you need accurate reading see Alfas or tarot card readers .They are the ones I use and trust me , I hardly make any errors because I’m always prepared .
      These fake prophets ain’t it. ?

      My psychic is a gay man that identifies as a woman and so far so good , everything she’s predicted about the Corona has happened.

      She said the whole thing will go away by end of April or beginning of May but Americans will be out of quarantine mid April 15 -17.

      I guess we will wait and see .??‍♂️

      • Jack
        April 06, 19:01 Reply

        Please @Higwe can I have her contact please

      • Suzo
        April 24, 04:52 Reply

        May I have her contact info please?

  2. Brown
    April 04, 08:37 Reply

    Seriously? Snakes possess someone and make them gay. How daft could this so called prophetess be?

  3. Mandy
    April 04, 08:53 Reply

    I get that your sister did a horrible thing to you. But all you had to do was just abide by her rules in her own house. Which weren’t hard. I don’t understand the kind of friends you have who can’t respect the boundaries you’re trying to get them to observe, especially when they know full well that overstepping those boundaries would put you in serious trouble.
    This happened like 4, 5 years ago. Hopefully, you’ve gotten more assertive with the people you call your friends.
    In other news, my goodness, how blind can some religious Christians be that they do not recognize the quackery of their religious leaders when it’s so obvious? This prophetess be like TB Joshua on steroids.

    • Earl
      April 04, 10:59 Reply

      You took the words right out of me. His friends have no respect for boundaries whatsoever. They aren’t friends if you ask me

    • Marvey
      April 04, 13:59 Reply

      You just said it all.
      .why would he let his friend disrespect his sisters rule..those are obviously not good friend’s!!

    • Rolex
      April 04, 15:40 Reply

      She actually was a devout follower of TB Joshua.
      And as for the friends, the ones that are left are more mature now, we respect each other’s boundaries

    • Dee
      April 05, 09:41 Reply

      Yeah i’m upset with his friends too and how lax he was with their defiance.

    • Audrey
      April 05, 18:38 Reply

      God bless you for speaking the truth. You can’t be gay and republican at the same time.

      It’s her house and her rules should be strictly adhered to. You got what you bargained for and I don’t think I feel sorry for you.

  4. Higwe
    April 04, 09:11 Reply

    Finally, she heaved the sorrowful sigh of one who had finally encountered a special evil spirit that she would need time to vanquish,

    ?????????? Hahaha hahaha hahaha hahaha hahaha…..
    *********************
    Hope you guys are all staying safe though , especially peeps in Abuja and Lagos .
    I know it ain’t easy , but we will all get through this together.

  5. Mitch
    April 04, 09:14 Reply

    I think you tried being a man much too fast. And in so doing, you lost the person who could have been your closest ally in the family.

    Your sister wasn’t asking for too much. Just that you respect her space, her home. She didn’t say you couldn’t have your friends come over. She just wanted you to limit the number of people who came and how often they visited. And you didn’t do that. Instead, you wanted to assert your independence.

    PS: what kind of friends did you have that didn’t care about your safety and would gladly endanger you, even when you’re practically screaming that what they’re doing is putting you into trouble? You may have to look into this and be sure you’re not keeping friends like that anymore, friends who’d disregard your wishes, who have no respect for what you need or your safety.

    About the prophetess, I’m not surprised. Na dia way. Once they hear homosexuality, it becomes a feast for them. I just hope whatever you were put through wasn’t too gruelling for you.

  6. Zoar
    April 04, 09:34 Reply

    While you struggled with your deliverance and facing your family. I never saw where you said your adamant “Friends” helped you to over come some of these challenges or where they were there to soothe you. You see what kind of friends you’ve been keeping Bro? The one that never listen to you even when you appear extremely serious? What sort of humans are those??????

    Your choice of friends will either make you or Mar you. That’s all I’ve got to tell you for now.

    Good luck been delivered!!!

    • Rolex
      April 04, 15:45 Reply

      Two stood by me, constantly calling to check on me. They’re my ride or die till today.

      The other ones are far away now. We talk, but we’re not close

  7. Colossus
    April 04, 10:45 Reply

    There are two parts to this story, this half of the story anyway.

    Your headstrong part followed by the deliverance.
    I hope you see how one led to the other.

  8. bamidele
    April 04, 10:47 Reply

    Let’s call a spade a spade, and without being judgemental, I think you also have some blames here. Even if you had your own place, I think you should have had some boundaries which your fiends should respect. Indeed, I understand that you’re the kind who feel insecured without friends, to the extent of becoming depressed, and that you should work on first. I once heard a case of someone who got thrown out by his father because of this calibre of friends. HE confessed to having been warned severally prior to this. He was also at 300 level, and his father suspended paying his tuition fee, so he dropped out of school a year to graduation. This was about 5 years ago and the guy is still moving from one place to another… none of those friends was him in even for one night.

    My point is that it is important to weigh things before taking decision. I believe you know that even many gay people would also be unable to put up with those friends of yours the way you describe them?
    Now you alone have to go through this foolish drama in the name of vague religious belief. I feel for ou a lot, and I know you possess a kind, non-judgemental heart, and you embrace everybody the way they are–very commendable. I hope it all ended well with you. Curious about the next part already!

    • Opal
      April 04, 12:34 Reply

      I totally agree. While I believe you’ve grown but truth must be told. You disrespected her place and couldn’t abide by a simple instruction so I also don’t blame her for her actions though extreme.

      We should learn to hold ourselves accountable and do right to avoid issues.

      Nice read though

  9. Delle
    April 04, 13:01 Reply

    It was a very simple thing your sister asked of you that should have been abided by and would not have led to all this nonsense I’m reading. But dwelling on what’s already happened is silly, so I won’t.

    Isn’t it funny how we always expect these good-for-nothing prophets to reveal our homosexuality as though it’s a spiritual thing? Of course they can’t! Being gay is not spiritual and the only way they tell is by being the stereotypical mofos who liken effeminacy to homosexuality. In other words, a masculine-presenting gay men could be a cultist, rapist but not gay. Hell no.

    The idiocy of it all ?.

    This prophetess was shaa just listing the provisions she needs in her house for you people in the name of deliverance items. Okay o ??

  10. trystham
    April 04, 15:38 Reply

    What the people said.

    Not that I have anything against u serpentine spirit ppl, but I’m marine spirit. Collectively putting us all gay ppl under the snake ppl grp will not just do.

    • Pink Panther
      April 04, 16:19 Reply

      ??????
      As in eh. Everyone should collect their own spiritual paranormal.

  11. trystham
    April 04, 15:45 Reply

    Wait, how come nobody is asking if Yomi is still dating your sister? Omo ale jatijati.

  12. Rexxy
    April 04, 16:58 Reply

    Of everything you’ve said sir/ma, I don’t understand how you keep friends that are disrespectful, it beats my imagination that I’ll tell my friend (s) to stop something and they will even carry bag and come ezigbo hotel and vacation.
    You had ni right to disrespect your very understanding sister seeing that she was having a hard time understanding and accepting you yet you went ahead and allowed your friends to keep coming and all…

    Well anything that happens at the end I think I can say you caused it.

    Do you know how many people will pay to have a family member that accept them or at least agrees to keep them safe but no you blew it away…

    Any friend that doesn’t care about your decision,is that one a friend? Nonsense and friendship!

  13. Izorah
    April 04, 20:15 Reply

    Guy I HATE YOUR FRIEND’S and if I were in your shoes, I am not going to be friends with them again.

    Useless bunch of Freeloaders? and you sef, you are annoying, something you’d have chased them out. Help them back their backs and show them the way out.

    I trust myself anyways.

  14. James
    April 05, 11:29 Reply

    Ur friends are the worst trust me..

  15. Lorde
    April 05, 12:18 Reply

    Its either your friends aren’t truly your friends, you didnt really tell them what your sister had said, you got a weak will…. or you werent serious about them not coming…. because you still let them in… still let them walk all over you… because they know they can, still wanted company…. the Nigerian clime on our sexuality isnt changing in the near future…. what we can do is being there for each other, understanding the importance of keeping each other safe, and your friends did not do that

  16. Francis
    April 05, 12:24 Reply

    Your friends literally did everything to make you a homeless LGBT individual and you’re still making excuses and loving them?! Nna you need help

    • Dunder
      April 17, 19:16 Reply

      I second your motion. Those your friends are alakobas and you seff come daft small- with your sister, you were a member of the freedom fighter but with your freeloading friends, you were a doormat. Homelessness was bound to happen as your sister is not eternally elastic.

  17. Malik
    April 06, 11:14 Reply

    I’m just here grateful that I finally have an explanation for what my gaydar is and how it works.

    #okbye #SlithersAway

  18. Jack
    April 06, 18:59 Reply

    You are very lucky you don’t have me as your sister even as a gay person I am, let me put a rule in my own and you disobey it that will be the end of you,
    Do you know what it means for a sibling knowing about your sexuality and still want to keep you in her home with just a simple rule ( respect me and cut down your friends visit) and you still have the thing to come and get me angry here with this story.

  19. Zizi
    April 19, 06:15 Reply

    I don’t blame your friends, I blame you for not being strong-willed enough to stop them or even ejecting them from your sister’s place b4 her return.

  20. Hycent
    December 06, 13:57 Reply

    Your friends are not worth keeping!

    BTW, your story, from the cultism part to the prophetess and even you, sounds like a story set in Port Harcourt… A typical PH story!

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