Unbreakable

chapter 6

Accused of What I Did Not Understand

The situation in the house continued to get worse as time went on.

One day, without even giving me a chance to explain myself or understand what was happening, my aunt made a decision about me.

She said I needed to go to a church ministry for deliverance.

According to her, something was wrong with me.

She told people that I had a demon living inside me.

When she spoke to my parents about it, they were deeply disappointed. They said I had changed and that I was not behaving the same way I used to behave when I lived with them in Kaduna.

Hearing those things broke my heart.

I knew deep inside that I had done nothing wrong, but no one was ready to listen to me.

Instead, everyone believed I needed spiritual help.

Life inside the house had already become very difficult.

Sometimes my aunt would not even allow me to sleep inside the house at night. She said she was afraid that I might harm her children.

Because of that, I spent many nights outside.

It did not matter whether the night was cold or whether I was tired.

I had to stay outside until morning.

Even though I lived in her house, I had almost nothing of my own there.

The few things I used were small personal items — a cup, a spoon, a small pot, and a bucket I used for bathing.

Even when washing clothes, I had to wash my clothes separately from those of the family.

I was not allowed to mix my things with theirs.

It was as if they believed I carried something dangerous.

Then the day finally came when they took me to the church.

I remember waking up that morning feeling nervous and confused.

I did not know exactly what was going to happen, but I tried to stay calm.

When the church service started, it lasted a very long time.

The service began around 10 p.m. at night and continued until about 4 a.m. the next morning.

Despite everything I had been going through, I never missed attending the services.

In fact, going to church sometimes gave me a small sense of peace.

The house I lived in was full of tension and fear, so sometimes I just wanted to escape for a while and sit quietly in the presence of God.

But on that particular day, something happened that changed everything.

It was the day of my special deliverance session.

At that time, I was only eleven years old.

While other children my age were outside playing and enjoying life, I was standing inside a church being accused of things I did not even understand.

Some of the people there told me not to worry.

They said if there was anything inside me, it would be cast out.

They prayed loudly.

They shouted commands for demons to leave my body.

For almost two hours, they continued the prayers.

But nothing happened.

I stood there quietly.

I felt normal.

Nothing inside me changed.

After the deliverance session ended, my aunt suddenly looked angry.

She believed that something must still be wrong with me.

She told the church leaders that she believed I was possessed by witches and wizards.

Hearing those words confused me deeply.

I did not understand why people thought those things about me.

Then something happened that shocked me.

They called my aunt’s husband to come and witness what was happening.

Soon after that, they brought my parents into the discussion as well.

Everyone began talking about me as if I were not even there.

I felt small.

I felt helpless.

And most of all, I felt alone.

Not long after that, I received something I will never forget.

A very strong slap hit my face.

The force of it was so powerful that I could not see properly for almost an hour.

My ears rang loudly, and for almost two weeks afterward, I could barely hear well.

But that was only the beginning.

My aunt and her husband continued beating me.

On that particular day, they beat me so badly that I felt like my body no longer belonged to me.

The pain was everywhere.

For weeks after that, I was forced to sleep outside again.

Hunger also became a constant part of my life.

One night, the hunger inside me became unbearable.

I could not take it anymore.

So I quietly entered the house while everyone was asleep.

I went to the refrigerator and took a small piece of meat from the soup.

I only wanted something small to calm the pain in my stomach.

But before I could even eat it, someone caught me.

They saw the meat in my hands.

Immediately, they began beating me again.

I tried to explain that I was hungry, but no one wanted to hear my explanation.

So I stayed quiet.

I let the beating continue.

At that moment, I realized something painful:

Sometimes in life, people punish you not because you are wrong…

but because they have already decided that you are.