The Year Death Knocked, but God Answered

I was just 14 years old when sickness hit me like a storm. It came suddenly and drained the life out of me. My skin turned so pale that I looked literally white, and even the doctors at Notre Dame Hospital—the best at the time—were confused. They ran every test they could, but nothing made sense.

Something strange was happening to me:

I was losing blood without bleeding.

My strength disappeared. I couldn’t hold anything in my hands. And whenever the weather turned cold, my hands and legs became completely useless. I was slowly becoming crippled.

My mother, like any desperate mother, began running everywhere for answers—hospitals, herbalists, native doctors. Many times I was dragged along. Different people gave different explanations, but they all agreed on one thing:

“This boy is under spiritual attack.”

But none of them had any real solution.

In fact, as young as I was, I could see through many of those native doctors—fake men who preyed on people’s fear, taking advantage of a mother looking for hope.

Eventually, the doctors gave up. They sent me home because there was nothing more they could do.

No diagnosis.

No treatment.

No hope.

At home, fear settled on everyone. I was withdrawn from school for a whole year. Day after day, I grew weaker, more helpless. But right in the middle of that hopelessness, God used my father to shift my focus.

Instead of fear, he started planting faith into my mind.

Every day, even though I could barely walk, he would carry me outside and help me take small steps on the grass in front of our house. He kept telling me:

“You will walk again. God will heal you.”

And I believed him with everything in me.

I began praying, pleading with God, confessing my sins daily. In my desperation, I even made “deals” with God. I confessed every sin I could remember—first to God, then even to my parents. I didn’t want anything between me and God.

And then… God heard me.

God saw me. God had mercy on me.

What hospitals could not do…

What doctors could not explain…

What native doctors could not understand…

God did in my father’s house.

He healed me completely.

Strength returned.

My blood normalized.

My hands and legs came alive again.

I walked.

I lived.

All these many years later, I still look back and give God all the glory. For truly, only God could have saved me.