I’ve exhausted the bottles of holy oil you sent me. I need more and this time, I’ll need you to add a keg of holy water to the parcel. I have a lot of cleansing and spiritual battles to do. The prayer houses I visited here have been prescribing one thing or the other but I prefer that your prophet when it comes to holy water and oil. I’m sure my enemies have not destroyed me yet because I’ve been following the directions attached to the last bottles you sent to me.
That young man, Samson, says he is no longer interested in my relationship with him. He said I’m too superstitious and that my religious inclinations are not healthy. What is unhealthy about fighting spiritual battles and going to see prophets to do prayer for me? He just doesn’t understand that the world is very wicked and one must embrace these cleansing and warfare things seriously. According to him, ‘a broken relationship is better than a broken marriage. Sometime in the future, you might come home and kill me because your prophet says I’m an agent of the devil’. Anyway, I don’t care. I have started a special prayer plan for catching the right man. Someone introduced me to Prophet Ezra who runs a ministry for young ladies like me. O ga-adicha mma.
Two weeks after Samson and I broke up, I bought a car and new battles have risen since then. The night I returned with the car to my compound, my flat nearly got burnt. I was engrossed in the chat I was having with my old school mates on the internet. We have an Old Girls’ Association group where we discuss how to develop our alma mater and how to be good wives and mothers. They were excited about my new car and were saying how proud they are of me. How I work very hard to be an independent woman instead of sitting and waiting for some rich man to come and marry me. Unknown to me, the demon that attacks successful single ladies was working over-time on my case. My pot of Indomie was already burnt in the kitchen. It was my neighbour’s loud knocks on the door that drew my attention and it was only then that I realised that something was burning.
How could my kitchen be burning and I didn’t notice, if not that I was being attacked spiritually?
Very early the next morning, I poured plenty of holy oil in the car oil filler. I also rubbed oil on the tyres and steering. I was not ready to take any chances. Some days later, the car started misbehaving on my way to work. I stopped by at a mechanic’s place and upon examining the car, he said the wrong type of oil had been put inside the oil filler and as such had reduced the viscosity. Holy oil that is universal! Na wa o! I left the car with him and had to take a bike to work and as you’d expect, I was late. Some clients were waiting already and this got on my manager’s nerves. I was very sad at work that day and managed to pull through work hours. On my way to the mechanic’s place, the rain suddenly started pouring and I was drenched by the time I got there.
All through the night and most of the next morning at work, I was sneezing uncontrollably. Well, I would have blamed my getting drenched for these sneeze bouts but not in these critical times of spiritual warfare. I am a daughter after the order of the sons of Issachar who had an understanding of the times and seasons and what Israel ought to do… (1 Chronicles 12:32a). I knew I had to battle in the spirit immediately because an enemy was likely mentioning my name at an evil gathering hence the sneezing. I opened my bible to Psalm 35 and began to pray dangerous prayers. The passion was so deep that I prayed for two hours at a stretch without realising. I was just heading to the water dispenser for a cup of water to rejuvenate my throat when my manager came out of his office to ask for the letters he asked me to type. Ordinarily, he never comes to ask for any assignment he gives me. I carry out the task and submit to him when I’m through. I was surprised that on that day, he decided to come asking. By the way, it was not even end of work hours and the letters would be needed the next day. When I told him I hadn’t typed them, he flared up. He called me lazy, lousy and lackadaisical. Mama, only me o! I went for Troubled Hearts’ Vigil to pour my heart out to God that night.
The next day, I was at work very early, working very hard and trying not to get in anyone’s way. I was through with most of my task for the day at about 12:35 pm so when sleep kept calling, I rested my head on my work desk for a short nap. I was jolted from my nap by my manager who was banging his fist on my desk. He said he had been trying to get to me on the intercom but I was not answering. See me, see wahala o! I didn’t even hear it ring. He also complained that some of the documents I returned to him had oil smeared on them and that was most unprofessional. Mama, smears on the papers must have come from my table. I rubbed holy oil on my chair and on the centre of my table that morning to ward off evil spirits. It was not my fault na. Anyway, I left work that day with a 2-week suspension letter.
Ewo! I just realised I had not even asked how you are. Mama, biko ndo. You know it’s not in my character. I’m just vexed in my spirit. How are you and how is business? I believe the money I sent you last time was very helpful. My warm regards to Mama Nkechi and Mazi Okorie. Keep praying for me o. We shall not stop fighting until God exposes all our enemies and makes them fall inside the pit they’re digging for us. Whether they’re from the village, among your friends or from jealous people in my compound and office: FIRE! FIRE!! FIRE!!! Please, endeavour to send the oil and water immediately you get this letter.
Yours in spiritual warfare,