Sisters, I Have A Story To Tell; I Was Almost Used For Ritual

A friend writes in

If there is one thing you should learn from this story, it is this: be prayerful. Be extremely prayerful. No matter what happens, just keep praying. Because we truly battle not against flesh and blood but against principalities and powers.

Now, I know many of you are perfect. You cannot even finish hundred naira bread. If they leave a cup of water in your mouth for ten years, they will come back to meet it. If you are someone like that, please, the door is that way. You don’t have to read. We know you have no lessons to learn from people like us. Bye-bye. But if you aren’t perfect and want to laugh at — and with — me, at myself and my many fooling adventures, well, here is how it started.

Like all foolish life stories, this story also starts with a man. There is this guy, let us call him Daniel, that I had been seeing for a while. I wasn’t seriously seeing him, by the way. He was one of those guys you just use to scratch an ovulating itch. I didn’t even like the guy like that, but you know what they say: condition is what led to the bending of the crayfish. I wish I could tell you to get your mind out of the gutter. But you actually need to submerge yourself in the gutter, because this is exactly that sort of newsletter.

Anyway, I’d told Daniel at one time or the other that I might — might — have a threesome fantasy. You might think that is really bad, but how bad is it? Some people I know have a thing for Optimus Prime. Can you imagine that? Optimus Prime? At least I want to sleep with two people. Some want to sleep with trucks. What about people who have crushes on K-pop stars and things like that? How am I any more depraved than them?

So I told Daniel that something like that was my fantasy, and I swear to God I totally forgot about it. But they say that the dog that will eventually get lost will not hear the hunter’s whistle. One day I went out with Daniel and while we were out, we met a friend. Immediately this person walked into the restaurant, I knew that I wanted to sleep with him. Have you ever felt something like that before? I have, and it was magical. I knew that I would try to get his number one way or the other even while out with Daniel. Now, imagine my shock when the guy walked over to meet Daniel and me. Incredibly, they’d known each other for a while, and this dude literally joined us on the date.

It was only a few minutes later, when the conversation was veering into crazy territory, that I realized what was happening. It was like I suddenly realized I was caught in a trap. But it was a trap I liked. So we got back to Daniel’s car, and Daniel left to go get something. I started talking to the new guy, and he was totally the sort of guy I’d lose my home training for. He asked me for my Instagram handle, and I gave it to him. He said my boobs looked bigger in person than on the gram, and I was taken aback. And I thought to myself, what a forward young man you are. And then I said, well, why are you looking at them? Do you want to suck them? Forward young man meets forward young woman. I think the kids these days call it aura for aura? Exactly. Then he said, we’ll see about that.

And then Daniel came back and said the magical words: should we just lodge? Ah, of course. Why not? So we got a lounge upstairs and started huffing and puffing the devil’s cabbage. Very soon, we were having an angelic time. If you are someone like me who’s been in such settings, you’d know just how carefree it feels to be drunk, high, and talking to attractive people. I was Aphrodite being wooed by beautiful mortal men. I was tag-teamed with all the charm and beautiful words they both had to say. It was a gorgeous time. Then the guy I really liked — let’s call him Kevin — left the room.

Since I already had some sort of history with the other guy, it was easy for us to get down to serious business. We’d been going at it for like ten minutes when the other guy, Kevin, returned to the room and just joined in. Here is the thing about threesomes — or good ones, anyway. Not a lot of planning goes into it. We didn’t even speak about it. We just knew, you know? You just know. And so it began. Once I saw Kevin walk in, I knew what was going to happen, and I didn’t fight it. I didn’t stress it at all. I just let it happen. It was marvelous. But the details of the sex itself aren’t important. It is what came after that taught me that Jesus is truly Lord and prayer is definitely the master key.

But I have to add some details so that you can understand the context behind the rest of this story. I was more attracted to Kevin, so I ended up doing him more than I did Daniel, which must have bruised Daniel’s ego (you don’t say?). I didn’t feel any sympathy, though, because they must have spoken about this. So how is it my fault that Kevin was more attractive? Please and please. Moving on.

Afterwards, Daniel started talking out of his ass about how we don’t have to see each other again and that we just had a good time and whatever. It is incredible how fragile men’s egos are! What do you mean we don’t have to see each other again? Maybe I won’t see you, but I knew I would see Kevin again. I won’t see a potential best eater again? Because of what? You might play with your sexual life, but I don’t play with mine, please. That night, both of them left and left me alone in the hotel room. And in the middle of the night, Kevin came back — this time alone — for second servings. I don’t like to brag, but do you understand how good I have to be for that to happen? How extraordinary I must be? A complete baddie in and out? The funny thing is that he told me that right then, as he was in me, his babe was at home asleep. Oh, poor babe. What is my business? I should be a girl’s girl? What she does not know won’t harm her. They have cheated on me too and I did not die. Okay, they haven’t, but even if they do, I still will not die. She should toughen up. Besides, how is it my fault that the girl cannot control her man? Why was her man not with her in bed at that point of the night? Since I don’t like interfering in matters between lovers, I decided to mind my business and continue my exhilarating monkeying about.

At this point in my story, you must be thinking that I deserve whatever I get from indulging in this sort of behavior. But that is why nobody will ever remember your name. Take a risk and live a little. What is the worst that can happen? Anyway, I got with Kevin that night, and we had fun throughout. It was a beautiful time, and I was euphoric for the rest of the night. Some of you cannot relate.

So how did I get into this ritual nonsense? How did God save me from the clutches of bad decisions the devil engineered through me and the machinations of the enemy? How did the God of my Pastor Power show up dramatically in my life?

I was in Law School at the time, and I was seeing this guy almost every weekend. I noticed that he had a lot of time on his hands and was always free for some degenerate activity. He was exactly my type. But I am not stupid. I knew that something had to be going on, but as long as it didn’t interfere with my weekly orgasm-hunting adventures, I did not care. I came to this city to pass Law School and get my eyes rolled back. I had no intention of leaving before accomplishing both goals.

One day, I went to his house and we started talking. He asked me if I believed in spiritual things. Now, my own spirituality is kind of wacky. I go to church and can recite John 3:16, but that is where it stops. So I told him yeah, I believe that spirits exist and things like that. He laughed and told me that wasn’t the sort of vibe he was on. Please, what sort of vibe are you on? I came here to scratch an itch between my legs, not for half-high philosophy. Who cares if spirits exist or not?

He then asked if I knew about spirits that sold things in the market at night. When he asked that, I actually started reconsidering all my life choices. I’d heard of people going mad from smoking too much, but this was my first time seeing an actual specimen. He then asked if I wanted to learn about these spirits. I said no thank you. The only spirits I’m interested in learning about are in my Holy Bible. He then said I’m a joker and that he would teach me about those spirits when I’m mature. First of all, when I’m mature? Ladies and gentlewomen, I am a very endowed person. One cannot be more mature than this.

Anyway, I went to bed that night and he stayed back to watch TV. At some point in the middle of the night, I felt something hit my head. Then I woke up immediately. When I woke up, I saw him standing behind the bed but over my head. I was groggy from sleep, so I did not react immediately. In my sleep-daze, he said, “Give me permission.” I was so confused. “Permission for what?” I asked. He repeated the same thing. “Just give me permission, let’s go out.” We did not plan on going anywhere, so I did not understand what he was saying. But I finally relented and said he had my permission. But this wasn’t enough for our up-and-coming babalawo. He said he wanted permission from my spirit. What?

He said he wanted to enter me, so I had to give him total permission. My brain was already blaring alarm signals, but for some reason, I couldn’t even move. I just started shaking my head vigorously. Then he sat down on the bed with me for a while and left much later. Instead of me staying awake and guiding my life that night, I still slept off. You know what they say: you only have one life to live, and you cannot spend it staying awake to protect your destiny from an up-and-coming native doctor. That morning, I had to really look at myself and wonder if my mummy was praying for me. Because if she was praying for me, I don’t think I would encounter something like that. I have friends who are even worse than me, and they don’t go through things like this. If you are a daredevil like I am, please try to remind your mother to pray for you — or at least hire people who will do it. Because, as I said, we battle only with principalities and power.

The next morning, I woke up and remembered what had happened. I decided to ask him about it, and he told me he just wanted to give me a hint. A hint about what? The spiritual, he replied. Later on, he told me that he was a ritualist. At this point, I wanted to immediately leave his house, but then he said it wasn’t the sort of ritual I was thinking about. That he sells (completely redacted because I love how my head looks upon my shoulders). I could not believe this, so I thought it was some sort of joke. Then he told me not to worry, as he doesn’t actually do these things himself — he just facilitates it. As if that would make it all better. I asked him if he could facilitate a trade for me if I had what he wanted, and he said of course. But I had to be careful, as he only did serious business with serious people.

You may think my story is depraved, but I like to think of it as youthful exuberance. After all, I'd confirmed that my mother was indeed praying for me. One thousand shall fall at my right hand and ten thousand shall fall at my cleft hand. And none will come close to me. See? Turns out I can recite more than John 3:16. Would God really let any evil thing happen to such a good Bible scholar?

The incredible thing is that I didn't realize how dangerous my position here was until I went home and got high. It didn't even occur to me that I, like Faith Oyedepo, had been rescued from destruction. This was a really dangerous person, given what I'd experienced. And I'd survived it — whatever it was — without even thinking much of it. It was only later that I realized just how ludicrous the whole thing was. But there was a more troubling possibility: what if the guy had already used me for ritual? What if I'd given him “permission” on other nights without knowing? Some of you might think I was just panicking unnecessarily, but I've seen the drama you guys throw over bad dreams and birds shrieking on your roof in the morning. I know what you are. Don't try to gaslight me.

Anyway if he did use me for ritual, it mustn't have been very successful because I'm still alive and I'm still making money. I'm probably making even more money now than I did then. Maybe the ritual didn't work because after I realized just how crazy that situation was, I went diving back into the arms of my Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ. I went on my knees and started praying to God to reverse whatever ritual this useless boy must have done in my life. I've never even bought a Benz, and this useless boy wanted to use my small destiny to cash out?

I started a seven-day prayer and fasting session and fought for my destiny. My friends thought that God had intervened in my life. They didn't know that I was fighting for my future Benz. They had no idea that I was doing real warfare in the spiritual realm. I couldn't tell my mother exactly what happened because she would disown me before I got home, but I called her and asked her to pray for me. This boy cannot collect doggy from me and still take my destiny. Who does that? You may think it's stupid to ask God to solve my gigantic mess-up, but an ever-forgiving Saviour is literally the point of Christian faith. I think the kids these days call it salvation by grace? I might be having threesomes, but you will see me at Heaven's gate. If you're not careful, you may not even see me — because you won't be there.

So after my prayer, I entered another month and started ovulating. Since God had already answered my prayers — because He said we will call and He will answer — I went back to Kevin’s house to make another tiny mistake. That doesn't invalidate the fact that God has already saved me. We had fun, and we even organized another three-way, but with another guy. Since that Daniel said we didn't have to see each other again, we made his wish come true. What can I say? I'm so considerate of people and their feelings. Hopefully, none of the people involved ever read this because I really like my destiny, and I hope to keep it for a while. And you cannot maintain my shape with fasting. Besides, I just got confirmation that I passed Law School. So you can see that I prayed and God answered my prayers. Maybe I'll even buy a Benz soon — who knows?

Notes From Elewa

This newsletter is the latest in a series of real-life stories told to me by friends and acquaintances. I help them edit their stories into acceptable formats for this publication. If you have a crazy and true story like this one and would love help in editing and releasing it for this publication, send a reply to this email.

Like always, please share and like this letter. Thank you, and see you on the next one.