I really pity people who say there’s no God.
Okay, if there’s no God, explain this experience to me.
I had just moved into an apartment in Isolo, Lagos. Things were extremely tough for me at the time. Someone had stolen the bag of jewelry my aunt gave me to sell, wristwatches, necklaces, legchains, bangles, everything. I was desperate for accommodation and had to empty my bank account and spend virtually everything I had to rent the apartment.
Unknown to me, the area was notorious for petty thieves who cut through window nets and steal phones at night. At the time, I was using a purple iPhone 11, and that phone was basically the only valuable thing I had left.
The apartment building had about 20 flats, but it was newly built and only three tenants had moved in then: myself, the neighbor next to me, and another tenant whose apartment was farther away. The neighbor beside me was named Qudus. We had started talking and getting familiar with each other from the very first day.
One night, I plugged my phone close to the window and slept off. During the night, I remember wanting to change my sleeping position, but I couldn’t move. It felt like sleep paralysis had pinned me down.
The next morning, I woke up and found only my charger. My phone was gone. When I stepped outside, I saw that my window net had been cut open. They had stolen my phone.
I was devastated.
New house. New neighborhood. New environment. I barely knew anyone. That phone was all I had left after spending everything on rent.
Later that day, when Qudus came back from work, I told him what had happened. Without hesitation, he said:
“Sis Bukky, take my phone so you can stay online and inform people that you’ve lost yours.”
I was so grateful. He gave me his phone to use overnight and said he would collect it in the morning.
It was around 2 a.m. and I couldn’t sleep. I cried my eyes out because anyone who has struggled alone knows how painful it can be.
I was about to log into Instagram when a small whisper came into my heart:
“Pray.”
So I prayed.
“Dear God, search within me and bless me accordingly. If deep down I am wicked or a bad person, please don’t help me. But if deep down I am a good person with a kind heart, please assist me and send help from somewhere. I have no one. God, I seriously need Your help this time.”
I wiped my tears and logged into Instagram.
Back then, Instablog9ja usually stopped posting after 10 p.m., but that night they had posted a story about a woman whose phone had been stolen through her window net, exactly what had happened to me.
I commented:
“Ha! Twinny, this is exactly what happened to me. I don’t even have a phone anymore. God will help us, my sister. Nigeria is not safe.”
The only difference was that she had a way to post her experience online.
A few moments later, someone sent me a DM.
He said, “I’m so sorry this happened to you. How are you going to recover? What will you do?”
I replied that I was trusting God and that I was only using my neighbor’s phone temporarily until morning.
Then he asked me what type of phone I wanted.
Honestly, my mind wasn’t on expensive phones. I just wanted any Android device so I could stay online, keep in touch with people, and hopefully find a way forward.
Then he asked for my account number.
I sent it.
This man transferred ₦500,000 to me.
Till today, I can never forget it.
He told me to go and buy an iPhone or whatever phone I wanted.
I went to Ikeja and bought an iPhone XS Max, then kept the remaining money.
Me that was struggling to survive, who exactly was I trying to impress?
Say whatever you want, but God is real.
Matter of fact, He listens.
His ways are mysterious, confusing sometimes, and impossible to predict, but experiences like this are why nobody can convince me otherwise. I’m sorry but God is hella real
to my fellow stoners abeg make una try get pvc make we try vote out this government abeg, if economy good Cana go cheap and we go fit ban Scottish wey dey spoil una chest