He Who Began A Good Work In You

“AY, I heard a test will be conducted in a company tomorrow,” Uche, a friend, informed me. I asked for the name of the company, but he couldn’t get to pronounce the name properly. He tried describing where it is located, but it was no use, for though Trans Amadi was my regular route as a corper, yet I really never noticed any of the companies strung along its layout. I was always focused on getting to wherever I was going anytime I was in buses or taxis.

I had my compulsory national service in Port Harcourt, Nigeria. (In Nigeria, it is compulsory to serve the nation under the paramilitary body called National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) after graduating from the university or polytechnic. Fresh graduates are cross-posted all over the country to work wherever they will be assigned to for a year during which they get paid by the government and sometimes by the institution they are serving under.)

After passing out as a member of the corps in February 2010, I stayed back in Port Harcourt. I lived at the NCCF (Nigeria Christian Corpers Fellowship) Family House during service and since there is a provision for senior friends to put up at the family house after NYSC, I continued to live there after service. I had a hunch ever before I knew I would be serving in Rivers State that I would most likely stay back wherever I would serve. For this reason, I endeavoured to do all I could do to serve in my home church in Abeokuta between the time I graduated and the time I left home for youth service. I did not want to have any reason to look back and wish I had done more. The hunch was confirmed during my service year….

So, my friend, Uche, told me about the test and added that another friend who is a geofellow (we geologists call ourselves geofellows) had more information about the test. With time, my geofellow friend got back home and he gave me the full details. We were going to gatecrash the next day. That night, I picked a textbook I borrowed from another geofellow in the house, but couldn’t concentrate; you know that kind of preparation for a test that you will write the next day. I had no idea what sort of questions would be asked and could not even grasp anything, so I gave up. By the way, I never seriously looked into GMAT for once, because my plan was to start some stuff for myself and work for no one. Another funny thing was that my CV was not very ready. I was taking my time with the CV because I had thought I wouldn’t have to work for anybody, thus early in the morning before going for the test, I quickly went to Mother Cat to have the CV printed and then headed for the company’s base.

We were four that went from the family house. One of us had earlier dropped his CV with the security guys at the gate, so he was somehow eligible for the test, but the rest of us were gatecrashers. They already had the names of the test candidates in a sheet of paper and soon started calling them in. My people and I stayed on, hoping for the best. I went to stay at the very front, with the hope that God could use someone to open the gate for me. There were a lot of people and being a brief person with a giant of a guy behind me, I was constantly pressed against the gate. The noise was too much, the pressing continued, but I stayed put at the front. Then one of the security guards noticed the way I was being pressed and exclaimed in pidgin, “Make una no kill this girl for me na!” “Oga, abeg, tell them o” was my reply. But it wasn’t a problem for me; after all it was supposed to be the survival of the fittest. Everyone there wanted the job.

 Later, I saw the guard pointing in my direction as he spoke to another guard. A few minutes after that, he came to ask me where I was standing if I had my CV already submitted, I replied in the negative stating that would be my first time there. He went and returned, asking if I had my name already with them, I gave the same answer. Not too long after this, he called for me at the main gate, holding out a scrap, not a sheet, of paper for me to fill in my name. All this while, we had been at the front of the security cubicle. They let in the applicants from there. When he called me through the main gate, it wasn’t that he opened the main gate for me, he only handed the paper to me through that space between the gate’s hinge and the pillar supporting it. I wrote my name, wrote for my fellows from the house and for some others who begged me to. But I knew the man was particular about me. He collected the paper and left. By this time I had lost my position at the forefront, so I had to stand at the back trying at the same time to monitor what was going on. In little or no time, my new friend, the security guy, came calling for me again through the main gate. He told me to add my course. I did so and did for others too. But still, I knew this man was particular about me as he was hurrying me up when I was writing for others. He came back the third time and asked me to include my phone number. I did that, did for others and returned the paper to him.

“Where is that girl?” It was the guard calling from the security cubicle. I quickly found my way close to the front and when he saw me, he opened the gate wide for me, in full view of everyone, and let me enter. No one else was allowed in except one other guy. It was like a dream. When I entered the compound, I thought, “Lord, the way I entered this place today, it’s like You have given me the job already.” The test came in two batches with ten candidates in each batch. I was in the second batch and we were twelve. The other guy that the guard let in and I made the group twelve. We had to wait under close supervision in a room for the first batch to finish their test before we would take over and write ours. I learnt later they had had the test conducted two previous Thursdays in the same manner—two batches and ten applicants in each batch.

While waiting for our test, it was like the other guy that the security man allowed in kept going out and coming in. At a point, he did not close the door properly when he left the room. The security man, not my friend, in charge of us got mad and asked him to leave the premises. Na so bros start dey beg, oga security no gree o. He asked him who let him in, they went to meet his colleague together, that was the last we saw of our bros. My heart was in my mouth all along, because I was an extra too. But the Lord favoured me, the guard did not bother me at all.

Fast forward, it was our turn to write the test. Contrary to my expectation, the test was set on five subjects—Geology, Physics, Electricity, Chemistry and Mathematics. I did what I could and left the rest. I had the opportunity to cheat, because the lady that was supposed to invigilate us did not care at all, but I was able to resist the temptation. Basically, I wouldn’t ask anything from anybody, but the urge to help my fellow candidates was great as they kept calling my name. I would just look at them, smile and shake my head to pass my message across that I could not help them. Afterwards, I had to apologise to one of them that it was against my principle, he was not offended, he understood.

On my way home, I was pondering on all that had transpired and about two blocks away from the family house, this song, “He Who Began A Good Work In You” coursed through my mind and I nodded to the Lord.

“AY, I heard you guys went for a test today and you were singled out and favoured.” That was Musa, another friend, he was serving with Batch B. The news had gone ahead of me to the family house.

“Congratulations!” He added. I smiled and recounted the story to him, adding that everything still depended on if God would let me have the job or not. But he insisted that God had given me the job already.

Barely two weeks after the test, I was called for interview. The interview was like a chat. It wasn’t like that from the beginning, though. In fact, I would have been excused if not for a lady that peeped in to deliver a message. That changed the tune of the interview as one of my interviewers asked me what was my view on paying taxes. I replied paying taxes is the right thing to do.

“Even when NEPA is not giving you power and the roads are bad?” My answer was still the same.

“Are you giving me these answers because you are in an interview and this is what you’re expected to say?”

“No sir, it’s one of the principles I live by.”

Other questions followed. Could I stay on the sea for six months and not be homesick? My naïve answer to that was yes. In reality, it is a no-no, but I had no idea what having to stay on a rig was like then and was enthusiastic. They told me there would be caterers on the rig, different kinds of food and a lot of cakes.

At the mention of cakes, I burst out, “Oh, I love cakes!”

“Oh, you do?” they replied laughing.

“Do you bake cakes also?” One of them (who was going to be my boss, but I didn’t know then) asked.

I replied yes. He asked if I would not leave the company after three years to start a catering company. I laughed and said no, that I could always manage that with my job. The interview ended and I went home.

While I was recounting how it all went to my “baby”, the person I handed over to in NCCF as Chief Usher, who is also my friend, there was a musical break on a TBN programme we were viewing on TV and the same song that crossed my mind the day I wrote the test was the song played during the break. I still put everything in the Lord’s hands. In the evening I went to visit a beloved family in another part of Port Harcourt, I spent the night there. That night in my dream, a very tall veiled man came to attack me in my dream with a razor blade which he held in his hand. I was very small beside him but I overpowered him in the name of Jesus and commanded him to go to sleep. He couldn’t hurt me with his weapon.

Sometimes in the morning, I received a call from the company to come for my medicals. That was when the dream I had made sense to me. When I didn’t know that I would be called the next day, the enemy had known and had tried to come before time to contaminate my system, but the Lord my God fought for me. This reminded me again of another dream I had before I was ever called for the interview. I was in our former house at home. We used to have a long bench in the passage under which we kept different things ranging from yams to slippers. I was squatting beside the bench when a hag approached me demanding that I sold her plantains. I told her I had no plantains to sell, and actually I didn’t know I had any plantain. She bent down and dragged out from under the bench a bunch of big plantains, most of which were already ripe. She gave me a very dirty and worn 100 naira note and went away. When I awoke, I didn’t remember the dream immediately, but when I did, the Lord gave me the understanding and I knew that she came to shortchange me of some ripe harvests. I started praying immediately collecting back my plantains. I did not stop praying until I was sure in my spirit I had recovered what she took and gave her stupid money back to her. Definitely, the plantains she took was the job and I probably would never have been called at all if I had taken the dream for granted.

I discovered after I resumed work that out of the ten people called for the interview, only three of us were chosen and I was the only lady. I resumed work on April 2^nd because April 1^st was Easter Monday that year. This was barely two months after my passing out parade from NYSC.

It was all like a dream to me. I kept asking myself, “Is this how levels change, just like that?” I need to add that my first airport and airplane experience was on my job and all my journeys outside the shores of Nigeria have been via work assignments and trainings.

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When I entered into the year 2012, I had no idea I would be leaving the country before the year’s end. But I remember I asked after some female colleagues from another company on the rig and was told they were on short term assignments outside the country. One was sent to Morocco, another to the US and the third to another country. I missed them and at the same time I wished for such an opportunity to be on assignment outside the country for a few months. I’d been travelling out of the country for trainings before then, though, but our trainings last for a maximum of one month. I only wished, I didn’t pray, because it sounded like something too big to pray about and forgot it all. In April, my boss called me and asked if I would like to join a programme in my company at the head office in France, the implication was that I would be living in France while the programme lasted and by the nature of the programme, I would only be allowed to come home after being away for a stretch of six months. He added that I should think about it as he did not want me to cry on his neck later about missing home. I prayed-thought about it and I gave him my affirmative response. That was how the processing started. I travelled to France in November, 2012.

Today I am in the US, with the same company and I didn’t lobby for being here either, God did it Himself, that’s a story for another day. Incidentally, I came to the US at about the same time my former boss in Nigeria got transferred to the US as the ops manager. I must say this that it is not that everything has been perfect and smooth, of course there have been a lot of tough times, but the Lord has been my succour through it all.

I know that where I am is a place to pass through, so I am enjoying it while it lasts, I have a bigger picture which will definitely come to pass by God's grace.

I AM BEAUTIFUL

There was a time in my life it was difficult for me to accept that I was beautiful. In my heart of heart I knew I was, but I longed to hear people tell me so. People said so sometimes, but I was not satisfied. You know how it is that people don’t care to pamper you all around again because you are no longer a small girl that they would be singing ‘Fine girl’ for every now and then. I remember how I asked my younger sister one evening if I was beautiful, she said yes (I am laughing now at the memory, it wasn’t funny then), but I still had difficulty accepting that truth. Those days I would look into the mirror and rebuke my reflection, ‘Stop looking at me! You’re not even beautiful.’ Oh my God, I cringe at those actions now; I can’t imagine I actually said those mean things to myself.

Not believing that I was beautiful was not enough; it was difficult for me to see beauty in others. A lot of times when I saw another lady for the first time, the thought that would ring in my mind was, ‘She is not fine.’ But it got to a point that the Lord brought my wrong to my face and I realised I had been in error thinking others were not beautiful. I also realised through God’s word that I was fearfully and wonderfully made and that when the Lord made me, He said I was good. So I started confessing positively. I would look into the mirror and consciously reverse all the horrible things I used to say to myself. I would talk about how beautiful I was and also use the word of God. Sometimes I would feel like bursting into tears but I did not give up.

Those days, it was a common phenomenon for mirrors, especially car mirrors and windows, to ‘abuse’ me. It was either my head was too big, too small or my eyes were looking somehow. I didn’t like looking into car mirrors because I was sure I would behold a horrible reflection. It was also difficult for me to accept a picture of myself was nice until days after I initially collected it from the photographer. But when I realised the enemy had been playing with my mind by bringing those self-depreciating thoughts and making them look like mine, I would ensure I looked at the mirror/window of every vehicle I passed by and would tell myself loudly how beautiful I was even if what I saw staring back at me was not encouraging. I would add that the image in the mirror just appeared that way and that it was not a true representation of my face. At the same time, I would allow myself to agree that a new picture was fine even when my mind was screaming no. I also started to consciously think beautiful of everyone I had been seeing as unbeautiful and every new person I met. Sometimes, I would be fighting verbally debunking the lies of the devil about anyone he tried to tell me was not fair to behold. I would tell him that even if the person did not have much good looks, all I know is that she was beautiful, final.

With time I stopped seeing warped images of myself in car mirrors and windows. So who was I seeing before? It was a psychological thing. I was seeing what I was seeing in my mind. Even though my face was beautiful, I couldn’t see the beauty (or wasn’t certain of it) until I worked on my mind and let go of those wicked thoughts. (Yes they are wicked, there is nothing kind about thinking of yourself as not beautiful. Some people ended up committing suicide because of struggles as these). Also, I started seeing beauty in everyone I met. Till today it is difficult for me to assert that someone is not beautiful or handsome. I try to find beauty in everyone and even if I cannot really see good looks in a person I overlook it and still see the person as beautiful. And yes, I am beautiful. I don’t need people to tell me the way I craved for it then. It is enough that I know what God my Father says about that, so if people don’t say so, ba wahala, no problem. The truth is people will not be telling you everyday how beautiful you are, so if you don’t get to a point where you know and are sure that you are beautiful, you will be frustrated because people don’t tell you so everytime. By the way, how many people have you yourself taken time to compliment on their looks?

To you my reader, you are beautiful too. If you are battling with accepting yourself as beautiful/handsome, I recommend the method I used for you, it doesn’t fail. Of course it will take a process of time. Find out from the Bible what God says about you. His words boost confidence more than any inspirational quote can because they are spirit and they are life.

I am not ashamed at all to share about some struggles I once had. I know a lot of people had these struggles and many still find it difficult to see themselves as beautiful.

Cheers!

Ayobami (PreciousAY)

Blessed Assurance

I was a bit indisposed this past week, menstrual cramps palaver. Thankfully, we were not drilling at the time and my absence would not be a problem, so I was excused from work. It was not easy because I had to roll to and fro on my narrow cabin bed trying different postures, while I groaned holding my tummy, that would help minimise the naughty pain. My colleague told the medic for me and he came with some pain relief drugs and a heating pad for my tummy. Pain is not good o, I still trust God for a pain free menstrual cycle and will not give up. (When I was finally okay, I was glad I could sleep anyhow I want without having to assume any special posture).
So on Saturday, I managed to work for six hours, but my colleague excused me when she saw I was still contorting my face. On landing on my bed, I worried. I worried because it was Saturday,  our emergency drill day. We hold emergency drills at 9 o' clock either in the morning or in the evening on Saturdays. I had no idea if it was scheduled for 9am that day. But then, I was calmed by His peace because I reasoned that God knew I would be in that state and would prefer to be lying down to rest because of the pain, as such He would have ensured ahead of time that the drill was fixed for the evening. And that even if it was to hold that morning, it would be delayed till evening time. With this in mind, I went to sleep. I didn't decree or declare anything, I knew it was a settled case. And that was it, my rest was not disturbed because the drill held in the evening when I was already strong.
Thinking upon this, I could relate it to a bigger matter like marriage. If God could go ahead of me to ensure that the schedule for a weekly drill on a drilling rig favoured me, how much more would He perfect everything that concerns my marriage. Although I am done from the school of worry on this matter of marriage, but this was a good analogy for me and I am much more at rest and encouraged in the Lord my God.
I hope someone else is encouraged too.

A Good Neighbour

A few minutes ago, I heard a knock on my door. I hurried downstairs to see who it was. It must be the pest control people that I learnt will be coming every second Monday and Tuesday of the month, I thought in my head. On opening the door, I saw a middle-aged man with a big shoulder bag, smiling and pointing his finger. I still thought he came for pest control until he spoke up, his finger towards my door.

"Your key."

My gaze shifted immediately to my door and there was my key, in the lock. My right palm flew to my mouth as I exclaimed, "Jesus! Oh my God!"

I was so grateful and thanked him profusely. He told me he always tries to look out for other people and went away smiling.

And to think the key slept there in the lock all night and till this afternoon when that good neighbour noticed it. I'm thankful no evil person saw it.

MYLES MUNROE

"Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am a life that was changed
Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am so glad you gave"--Ray Boltz

Adieu Myles and Ruth Munroe.

I was shocked to the bones when I saw a friend's update on my Facebook homepage a few minutes ago stating Myles and Ruth Munroe's death. I later learnt their daughter was in the aircraft too.

The first time I encountered Myles Munroe was in 2006 as an undergraduate who was newly elected as an executive member in her fellowship on campus. It was basically my first experience of serious leadership. I read a psychological book on leadership and the ideas I got from there were not helpful at all in leading my unit members. I was frustrated.

Then, there was this long strike and I went home. I explained my frustrations to my sister and she gave me Myles' book, Becoming a Leader,to read. I prayerfully digested the book and set principles for myself. By the time the strike ended and I got back to school, I was a different unit coordinator. My members knew I was never going to take a no for answer anymore.

Myles Munroe taught me that leadership in the house of God is theocracy and not democracy. It now depends on the leader to carry his/her members along and ensure everything done is according to the dictates of God. Since then I had been reading his books and had learnt much more. He taught me, that as a multi-talented person, I can make the full use of each of my gifts and excel at them. He taught me that you could be highly prosperous and still love and fear God with all your heart. It always awed me how he got that wisdom and knowledge for almost all areas of life.

I had hoped I would meet him before I get home, but God understands. Your legacies speak on. I can't ever forget you. No one who had read you, listened to you, or meet you in person would ever do.

A TALE OF MY PHONES

I got my first phone in 2005 from my mum. It was an LG flip phone. I loved it so much that I was wearing it around on my neck everywhere. It wasn’t a camera phone, but it had a lot of effizies (An English word invented in Nigeria meaning ‘special effects’). You could set it such that everytime you flipped it open you heard some beautiful sound. I used it for two or three years after which it started to misbehave. So my mum got a Nokia torch phone for me instead and I gave the old LG phone to my younger brother. In my house, we have a way of pampering phones, that LG phone was wearing a jacket almost all the time it was with me and by the time I had to let it go, it was still looking new except for its issues.

My second phone—the torch phone—though without special effects, was a blessing too and I pampered it also. It did serve me well until I went to the NYSC orientation camp in Rivers State. One day, I went out of my dormitory and I left it on the bed. It was gone by the time I came back. No one owned up to taking it. I suspected two of the ladies on nearby bunks, although we were all looking for the phone together. It was painful as I had many precious contacts on it, some of which I could never get again. I thought I would find the phone before the end of the camp, but the thief’s heart was hardened, she refused to release it.

At the end of the orientation camp, we all dispersed to our different places of primary assignment, mine was in the state capital. We had to go to the NYSC office in our local government areas as fresh otondos after camp. One of the first few days after camp, on my way to my local NYSC office, I saw one of my bunk neighbours on camp. We were glad to see again and we exchanged pleasantries. It was a tough day at the office as there were a lot of people, so it was tiring. Anyway, I finished what I went for and returned home. At home, I had to rummage my bag in search for something when my hand touched a flat object. I brought it out and it was my Glo SIM card, the one that was in the stolen phone. Was I dreaming? How did the SIM card enter into a bag I didn’t take with me to the orientation camp? I arrived at the NCCF family house a night before I went to the orientation camp, so I took with me to the camp only what I would need. Definitely, the thief saw me in town that day and stylishly dropped the SIM card in my bag. So who was the thief? Then, I remembered the lady I met in the bus (she was my chief suspect when the phone was stolen).

All this while, I was still phoneless. One evening, a brother gave me an old Nokia camera phone at the family house. He told me I could use it till I could get another phone. I was very grateful. Even though the phone was really old and had some issues, it was an answer to my prayer. Sometimes later, another person gave me his old Motorola phone, making two. The second phone too had a few hiccups, but I could use it. Later, I was able to save three thousand five hundred naira (I served when corpers were earning nine thousand seven hundred and seventy five naira) and I gave it to three of my exco brothers who were going to the Computer Village beside Oil Mill in Port Harcourt to get a good phone for me. (I was a member of NCCF’s state executive council and we refer to ourselves as brothers and sisters, hence the usage of ‘my brothers’). I reasoned they would be able to buy better phones since they were guys. These three young men came back with a nice looking phone, a Sony Ericson camera phone. I was glad. But my gladness was short-lived because after three days, the phone started to act funny. Afterwards, one of my exco sisters gave me another phone, that one too was not wholesome. I had four phones in all, but all of them were not equal to one.  Sometimes I had to hit them hard to get what I wanted from them.

We eventually passed out as corpers and God gave me a job barely after two months of passing out. After a while, I bought a blue Nokia camera phone, Express Music. I loved this phone and I was satisfied with it. After using it for a while, friends started pressing me to get a blackberry phone, but I wouldn’t.  Blackberry was in vogue then and it was like a class thing. I hated that, and by the way, my Express Music was giving me everything I wanted. I remember telling a friend then I would never buy a blackberry if I didn’t see the need for it. In November 2011, pickpockets picked the phone from my backpack in Ibadan. I bought another Express Music, same colour.

The following year on the rig, I mistakenly left my precious phone in my coverall and sent it to the laundry. I rushed down to the laundry room immediately I realised this. Gosh! The coverall was already in the machine. The laundry man pulled it out and dug out my phone from one of its pocket and he advised I dismember it and sun-dry the components. I did that. I placed the components on one of the sills of my work cabin. There was a puddle a few inches away on the floor, but it was safe on the metallic sill. I went for lunch and I returned to a blank sill. My colleagues didn’t pack it for me. I was afraid it was wind-blown into the sea. A few days after, one of my colleagues heard an announcement made at the safety meeting he attended about a phone found in a puddle. He made enquiries for me about who it was with. Unfortunately, the person was on his time off. So I had to wait till the person was back on the rig. When he returned, I was back in town, so my Columbian colleague collected it for me, hoping to drop it at our base in Port Harcourt before he would travel to Columbia for his time-off. He forgot to drop the phone. The phone went to Columbia, came back after a month and then I got my phone.

I had that phone till I changed my mind about blackberries last year. I now have three phones and each is equal to one phone in its own right. Lest I forget, two of them are wearing armours and the one lacking looks well kept.

PASTOR TAIWO IREDELE ODUBIYI

I love this woman of God! I first met her in 2002 in my pre-degree days. My friend Oluwatoyin was reading 'Love Fever', one of her books, which she got from someone, and she lent it to me to read. I enjoyed the book and learnt a lot from it. I remember Toyin and I making commentaries on the book, on how Tosin was stubborn and how her husband did not help matters either because he was insensitive. To me, it was unforgivable that Ladi forgot Tosin's birthday. We oohed and aahed about how Tosin narrowly escaped being dashed HIV by Joe and were glad everything ended well after the turbulence.

Anyway, that was the first book that taught me that it is not only men that have fall into extra-marital affairs, women do too. Now I am talking about a Christian marriage that has its foundation on Christ Jesus. I have understood from books and shared experiences that many genuine children of God who fall into adultery in marriages do not set  out to cheat on their darling spouses, it always start with innocent gestures.... So, I learnt not only to pray ahead against strange women in my marriage but also against strange men....

I have read several of Pastor Taiwo's books since then and I was never disappointed. She is a Christian relationship/marriage minister and her books are mostly romance fictions. They are stories that feature different scenerios in relationships--especially courtships and marriages. Those stories teach you all you need to know about godly relationships, how you behave in courtships and marriages, what to do when you find yourself in a particular shoe. They are excellently written in good and simple English and apart from learning godly principles from them, they are enjoyable stories as well.

I recommend Pastor Iredele's books, you won't regret reading anyone of them. God bless her more.