The Witness of Usehjiki

Fourteen

Kuwin tied his stomach with the torn shirt of a dead man and limped a hundred meters to the gate and then another thirty till he found someone with a phone.

Just one call. That was all he kept saying to himself. And truly, when he made the call, he was in a hospital within the hour.

After two surgeries and a couple of months, Kuwin was standing in church, a different man than he had ever been. His story had been remixed by church members and sensationalized by the media but Kuwin did nothing to correct them. As far as the country was concerned, he was kidnapped by a cult, but the hand of God prevailed.

Kuwin tried to sing along as the choir led praise and worship. He tried to get lost in the presence of God. But no matter what he did, nothing felt right. He was supposed to be a man of God, but he felt like an imposter.

To say he'd dreaded coming to church would be an understatement. For the first time, his sermon felt like a chore. How was he supposed to extol the name of God, while he was a living proof of something else?

Of course, the argument could be made that his relationship with God was the spark that broke the curse. It could be said that his involvement was what made God move to save his life.

But was that it? Was that the truth? Or was he lying to himself just so he could eat his cake and have it?

He went up to the pulpit with his Bible and his notes, but when he opened them, the emptiness within him was too great to ignore. So, he closed them and took a step away.

"Raise your hand if you believe God loves you," he said as every single hand in the church rose.

He looked at his hands and he saw blood. The blood of Ahimad and Enechi. Everyone at Izecha. The blood of the thousand lives Osa was going to take in the future.

Kuwin wept.

"Forgive me, Jesus," he said to himself, away from the mic. He'd never been so lost. "My brethren," he said into the mic. "It has come to my attention, quite recently, that the world is a... a complex place." He looked around at the faces that were staring up at him with open trust. People who had placed their destinies in his hands. His blood-soaked hands.

"The Bible says in Proverbs 2, "that if you call out for insight and raise your voice for understanding, you will find knowledge in God." You know some of what has been happening in my life recently. But that isn't even half of what it is. I've done some things that would erase my name from the book of life," church members began to murmur in confusion. "And, right now, I'll be honest with you. I do not know what I am doing." He braced himself. "Which is why I am stepping down as Senior Pastor of this church," the church erupted in gasps as many people stood in shock.

"God called me to preach. He didn't call me to lead in sin. And as much as I love you all. As much as you mean the world to me, I need to find myself. I need to find Jesus again. And I can't do that if I'm here so... O mi nuoh."

He dropped the mic, picked up his Bible, and trekked out of the church.

His feet felt heavy with every step, but Kuwin moved with purpose. As much as he wished he could rewind the last two minutes, he knew his conscience would never allow it. He was doing the right thing.

He had to go.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Kuwin managed to make it out of the building with parishioners watching him in shock and whispers. Lots of phones were pulled out and without shame, they recorded Kuwin's exit, even while his junior pastors tried to hold their attention from the pulpit.

Kuwin hadn't discussed this with anyone, not the inner circle at the church, not his family. This was his decision and many people would disagree. But now the words were out there, he couldn't, he wouldn't take them back. Not now. Not until he knew what he was doing.