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Home Testimonies General Testimonies

Collision Course (2)

Senai by Senai
July 5, 2025
in General Testimonies
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I had joined the team on evangelism at a secondary school some months earlier. After that outreach, which happened to be my first, I prayed for an opportunity to go again, especially because the students I spoke to were in the senior class and would be leaving secondary school soon.

Joy filled my heart on the morning of the 17th of November 2024, when I got Sister Edikan’s call on my way to church, that I was to join the other 21 people going for an outreach to the school.

During the Journey

I’m usually not afraid of accidents or even letting the thought bother me, but on this day, I had some mixed feelings while on the church bus, and I began to pray in tongues under my breath. I found that I was shivery too, but I thought it was just anxiety. Thankfully, Bro Michael prayed when we got to a spot, and we continued.

A brother tuned into the ongoing church meeting, and we heard them teach the memory verse from 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 which later became my favourite scripture during this period. This scripture rang like a bell in my head nearly nonstop while on the road, so I had to stop and think about it line by line.

The Accident

I was still singing in my head when I looked up to see a black car dive into our lane. And then, a loud bang followed! I think I passed out for a few seconds because I remember waking up to the voice of a sister shouting, “Jesus!”

I tried to get up, but I couldn’t because another sister was on my leg and the seat had fallen on my ankle. Then a young man ran to my window and shouted, “Come out! Fuel is leaking!”

At this point, I forgot about my pain and weight and tried to get up and jump out as soon as possible, as I had heard stories of how cars could explode because of fuel leakage. I tried to get up but couldn’t, so I gave up and just began to cry “My leg o!” due to the pain, even though tears found it hard to come out. When I saw that even Sis Edikan, who was on my leg, was unable to move—and I knew it was because she was probably stuck too—I thought to myself, “I will not push my sister out and run. If this car explodes, let it explode,” and I sat back.


Suddenly, Sis Edikan got up. I still don’t know how she did it, but she did. I followed immediately and tried to jump out through the back of the bus where an opening had been made for us, but I realised that my right leg refused to align. Thankfully, one of the brothers who was also on the bus was just right there, so I asked him to help me out, and he did.

When I finally got down, I stood on one leg and kept hopping for a while, then I fell and couldn’t get up again. At that moment, a friend of mine from about five years ago ran towards me shouting “Debby!” I was shocked to see her there because she doesn’t live close, although she later told me she was on her way to a ministration when the accident happened and she saw me. She helped me to a spot and, for the first time, I looked down at my leg to see something a deep hole with blood just gushing out. My ankle was also a bit twisted to the side.

I was told by my friend and another young man who had come to the scene to help, to immediately try to straighten my leg or I may not walk again. For fear of not walking again, I decided to bear the pain there and, with her help, I successfully straightened out my leg. After this, my leg got so heavy that I couldn’t even lift it again.

While this happened, my thought was: “Shey, we are still going to the school for the outreach?” It hadn’t yet dawned on me what had happened, and I still didn’t believe it until I saw men with machetes and axes coming to Bro. Michael’s rescue as he was trapped in the driver’s seat. Then I knew this was serious. “So we just had an accident?” I thought to myself.

Our Reaction and the Aftermath

I saw for the first time in my life that a group of people could be thanking God and singing after an accident rather than crying and yelling. I saw that people could act peacefully rather than curse. It was just so amazing. We began by praying in tongues so loudly, and I joined. It became even stronger when I realised that Bro Michael was stuck, and then we began to thank God. All this while, I was just looking around to make sure everyone was accounted for.

Thoughts started running through my mind, like how Bro Michael would be announced as dead, and lots of other things, including our parents’ reactions and the persecution I’d get from them afterwards. Thank God our brother was finally brought out safe and whole.

We sat in the back of a Hilux that had offered to take us to the teaching hospital, and my eyes were just on Bro. Michael’s legs. I kept praying in my heart that he would move his legs so I’d be sure he was alive because he looked like he was going to give up. Then I saw him raise his leg, and I was relieved. He kept it that way for a while, and then I just began to sing, “Thank you, Lord; thank you, Holy One.”

My Losses

I wouldn’t say I lost so much because the only thing I lost was my phone. Yes, I know phones are expensive, but that was the price to pay for my disobedience. While on our way, I kept getting this strong nudge to put my phone in my bag, but I refused with the excuse that there was no space in my bag—and what could possibly happen? After the accident, all I saw was my phone cover and pouch, but the phone was gone. When we later tried to call it, someone picked up, refused to respond, and then turned it off.

The Help We Got

Help was massive, ranging from the free rides we got from the accident scene to the brethren who got into professional mode at the hospital. I mean, the medical students and pharmacists. I’m grateful to God for the brethren as a whole. Some people even had to stay up all night for us. I have never felt more loved. The last time I got such help was in another man’s land as a stranger by brethren in a fellowship I used to attend.

To further explain, I have been in a situation where I was really ill and needed help, and I was left in the hands of a nurse. But here, I had people stay away from their jobs to look after me. My aunties couldn’t help but exclaim that this level of love, care, and attention could never have happened in their church group.

My Hospital Experience

The second day in the hospital came, and some brethren were discharged. I thought I would be discharged as well, maybe with a walking aid, but I lay there and saw the doctors count the people who were to be discharged. Then I heard them say the rest of us were to be transferred to the ward. At that moment, I felt like crying.

Now, in this church group, we have been taught not to say words like “I will never,” and we’ve even prayed and renounced the ones we said in ignorance. However, I didn’t remember that I had said I would never sleep in a hospital—until this day. I began to feel like God had made me stay to prove a point.

Some hours before we were transferred to the ward, a sudden fear gripped me that I had never experienced in my whole life. I began to panic and cry. I was literally shaking and couldn’t control myself. Thankfully, one of the female leaders was around me, so I called her and told her to please pray for me, as I was feeling scared. It was so dreadful that I could not explain. After she prayed for me, I felt relief and peace. I later realised it was the fear of pain that had gripped me.

For nearly all through my stay in the hospital, I was always in pain—except when I was given drugs to knock me out or for pain relief. And once the drugs faded, the pain returned. From the stitched injury to my catheter that kept clotting, to the injection that was almost forced through a blocked IV line, and especially painful paracetamol injections, to the wound dressing, I had a fair share of pain. Also, whenever I saw another sister cry, I’d cry too but try to hide my tears.

I thank God for helping us go through the pain laughing. From brethren who made it a duty to give us doses of laughter, to my doctor who specifically made sure I laughed, to Pastor who came around to give me a word I just needed to remember and start laughing again. I’m grateful to God for all of these.

Thank God for my caregiver, Sis Tina, who was always there whenever I reacted to my medications, especially one that caused the most severe ulcer pain I’ve ever felt. Others weakened me and made me restless. God is just too good because what if these sisters were not there?

I thank God for the delicious meals we had and every sister who stayed through the night with us. We were treated like babies, literally. Thank God for Pastor, who was indeed a father—for the provisions, for my mum too, who kept coming even though she was sick. Thank God for all the parents who came around to check on us and for the care, the good food, and other perks.

Peace at Home

I’m also grateful to God that I didn’t get opposed by my parents like I thought I would be. I had thought my mum or dad would say something like, “There’s a church here, but you chose to go outside,” especially since I live on church premises. Instead, my mum told me that I would have probably died in that accident if it wasn’t for God’s work that I was going to do, and she was so grateful to God. She just kept saying, “Thank God you went to do His work.”

My Discharge and Recovery

I got discharged a week later—after much persistence—because the doctors had insisted on my staying behind. But thank God I was later released, even though I had to put a lot of effort into it. My mum just kept saying, “You are so strong,” because no one thought I’d want to try standing again, after seeing that I couldn’t even place my heel on the floor. Thank God for the two sisters who kept motivating me to try, rest, and then try again. Finally, I made it.

My recovery was swift, to my surprise, because I had heard things like “3 months” and other long durations would be needed before I could walk again. But all I heard was, “For this light momentary affliction…” (2 Corinthians 4:17). I mean, I walked in a month!

How I Started Walking

The Holy Spirit helped me do this because if left to me, and for fear of pain, I would still be in bed. I remember that several nights, or even during the day, while I sat reading my Bible or trying to sleep, I’d hear, “Try to walk without your crutches.” Because I was so eager to start walking, I’d get up and try. I’d try and nearly fall, until, like a guide by my side, I was told how to place my legs to balance, and gradually I started walking. Yes, it was tiring and quite painful, but I’m glad I decided to try.

My dad also helped out with his Chinese “magic” plaster, which I think helped a bit with relieving the pain. And during this period, we kind of built a little bond—the strongest we’ve ever had. He is my stepfather, and I’ve only known him for 7 years now. It’s been quite hard for us to bond, plus he doesn’t talk much either.

Struggling with Fear

After my discharge, I had to go to the hospital for a check-up the following week and had to go with my dad. The fact is, no one relaxes when my dad is driving because it’s like a car race, no matter how narrow the road is. But I had peace, which was later disrupted briefly when we almost hit two men on a bike. I just shouted, “Daddy, wait!” and thank God he obeyed and stopped immediately.

Fear of accidents began to build a castle of “What ifs” in my mind, but I just kept countering it by thanking God. Then I rebuked the voice of fear. My sub-shepherd later came to the house that week, she prayed for me, and it ceased. I thank God that I even travelled to Ikot Abasi last week without a single fear. I remember that on our way back, our driver almost collided with another car, and all I said calmly was, “Ah! Na wa o,” without fear.

I thank God that I could be of help to my mum in the village. I even went up and down a hill, even though I had to support my ankle by tieing it.

Healing from Fear of Water

I’m also using this opportunity to thank God for healing me from the fear of water. I can’t remember when it started, but I know I have never liked water, not even in a cup. Once, I gulped a lot and I felt it injured my throat. I also couldn’t drink much at a time, so like my aunties would say, I sipped water.

I had also decided not to go close to a body of water because I almost drowned twice. The first time, my younger sister pushed me into a stream because she didn’t know I couldn’t swim. She couldn’t believe there was anyone who couldn’t swim. Even when I told her, she laughed and said I was lying, and then pushed me into the water. After drinking a good amount, someone came to my rescue, and I left, never to return.

The second time was when I went to a stream with my friends. They too didn’t believe me because my twin could swim. So they pushed me into the water and went ahead to play. They barely noticed that I was almost drowning and struggling until someone shouted that I was going under the water. I was rescued, this time partly conscious. But thank God, I survived.

My Healing

I can only trace this healing to my baptism here in God’s Lighthouse last year. Before my baptism, I had hoped in my heart to experience a miracle like I’ve heard people testify. On the day of my baptism, I was scared of the water.

Now, I had been baptized twice in the past, but I had to undergo baptism again because the previous ones were not rightly done. The first time, I was more or less baptized into a church group. I didn’t even understand or know the significance of baptism. The second time, I had a laying on of hands experience that left me struggling seriously with pornography. The experience was so oppressive that I even fell ill that day. I began to question whether I had truly died and risen with Christ.

It was after coming to GLH that I learnt that I had been laid hands on negatively. After my baptism here, I waited for something to change in me or just happen, but I didn’t notice anything really until I recently went to the village.

The Village Experience

The major source of water there is the stream, and my brother had travelled back home and left me and my mum with her friend. He also left his clothes and told me to wash them. Left to me alone, I would have brought my clothes back home to wash. But I needed to wash his own, which meant I had to go to the stream.

My family knows I don’t do streams, so they don’t bother me. But mum said I could stay by the bank or fetch water into a bucket and wash. I eventually summoned the courage to go to the stream with my mum, who later agreed to help me wash. All I needed to do was carry the clothes home. But who was going to fetch water for me to bathe? In the end, I was left to sort out myself because she was too tired to help. She suggested I sit by the bank on a wood and do my business, and I agreed. It took me a lot of courage to actually go down there.

On getting to the stream, I sat by the bank where the water was still quite deep. First, I was shocked that I could even step into the waist-high water to sit. Secondly, I realized I wasn’t scared. I enjoyed myself in the water and decided to go back the following day, all the while saying to myself, “So I have been healed of the fear of water. So I am no longer scared.” Even my mum was surprised.

The following day, I sat in the water and tried to go further, only that I couldn’t swim. I began to admire those who could swim, something I could never do before. In the past, I thought people who could swim were just weird and maybe had something supernatural. Because how were you not scared of that deep water, and how could you comfortably float? I began to wish I could swim and even started walking in the water a little further from where I stood. My mum later called my dad to tell him, but he wouldn’t believe it. He said I stood by the bank and called people to fetch water and pour it on me.

I’m very grateful to God for this deliverance. May His name be praised. Amen.

— Sis N. E

8th Jan 2025

© God’s Lighthouse 2025

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