14/06/2026
This week we lost my aunt, a woman of God, a pastor, and one of the finest servants in ministry, whose church raised a nation.
Many years ago, when I stood at a painful crossroads, I shared with her a vision that had shaken me deeply, a vision of my own death, which was meant to happen within that very month. She advised me according to what she understood and believed was right. But two weeks later, she too saw the same vision, and when she narrated it, I knew there was no time left. I had to act.
By accepting my calling, my life was saved. Today, I walk under the protection of a nation of ancestors.
Her vision came back to me today with unbearable weight. It reminded me of everything I had prayed and fasted against, and of the deep pain I felt then. Yet there was also comfort in knowing that she had seen it for herself, because only another uniquely gifted person could understand the complexity of such a life-changing spiritual decision.
I cry for my family, and I reflect on the painful truth that callings can sometimes divide the very families they are meant to heal.
May her soul rest in power, light, and eternal peace.