I grew up in a good and loving home. My parents were devoted Christians who raised me with strong moral, spiritual, and educational values. Life was peaceful and clear, and I had every reason to believe my path would stay that way. I was trained to know right from wrong, and I truly believed I would never lose my way.
But everything changed when I got into my first year at the university. I won’t mention the name of the school or the country, but that was where my life took a sharp turn for the worse. I met some people who seemed kind at first, always there to support me financially, to defend me when trouble came, and to offer me comfort in difficult times. What I didn’t know then was that I was walking straight into a trap.
Slowly, I started doing things I never imagined myself doing. I began drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes, and keeping late nights. I became someone I didn’t recognize. The worst part of it all was being forced into a secret cult. I never planned for that life. I never wanted that life. But before I could understand what was happening, I was in too deep.
My parents noticed the change in me, especially my mother. Each time she saw me, tears would fill her eyes. She was broken. One day, she called me aside. Her voice trembled as she spoke, and then she asked me a question that shook my soul: If you were the father of the kind of son you’ve become, would you be proud?
That question hit me so hard that I couldn’t answer. I stood there, ashamed, lost, and filled with guilt. That moment was the beginning of my turning point.
But change didn’t come easy. It took me a full year of pain, struggle, and courage to break free. I had to distance myself from everyone I once called a friend. I walked away from that life with no regrets, even though it meant starting over. I knew deep in my heart it was the only way to survive.
I lost two close friends during that dark period of crisis then in school, "dayo and Sammy." I still think of them sometimes and how things might have been different. But I believe God had mercy on me. He gave me another chance. He reminded me that I have a purpose.
Looking back, I’m not proud of who I became, but I’m grateful for who I am now. That phase of my life taught me that the people you call friends can either lift you or destroy you. And though I lost many things, I found something greater myself.
God saved me. My mother’s tears saved me. And today, I live with a deep sense of gratitude, knowing that I was given a second chance one that I will never take for granted.
