Fashion/Ankara/Magazine

Good morning, Man of God. Thank you for finally speaking on this issue sir.

’‘Welcome my brother, you are blessed. It is you I must thank for being very open-minded about this whole nonissue. I read your column last week and I must confess Nigeria is lucky to have people like you who still use their brain cells. The Lord be praised.’‘Hallelujah.

So, where do we start from?

’‘Let us start from the beginning. Praise the lord.’‘Hallelujah.

So, what was on your mind when you invited her to the terrace of your hotel suite?

’‘That’s not the beginning. It all started when I saw her in the congregation while preaching one Sunday; she was very vibratory, especially when taken over by the spirit doing praise and worship. Praise the lord. The spirit ministered to me that she would be useful in Pastoral Care. That was why I invited her to the unit. And she was very useful. Praise the lord.’‘Hallelujah.

By ‘very useful’ you are talking about your affair with her, right?

’‘No, we didn’t have an affair; we had an understanding. Praise the lord. ‘

Really? Explain to me how that works, sir.

’‘Praise the lord. She understood that I am a Man of God with a weakness. I understood that she was a believer with an equal weakness. She understood that I was a married man; I understood that she was a willing woman. She understood that I could make her no promises of forevermore; I understood that she understood that by associating with me I would introduce her to a level of grace she was previously unaware of. ‘‘

Is this also the kind of understanding you had with others that led to your suspension in Ilorin and the 130 women you have slept with?

’‘Lie! Big lie! One hundred and thirty?!!! Haba, how could one man have done that, even with a never seen before level of grace? They just want to give my dog a bad name just to hang it. 120, I may accept, but 130? Never. When it is not as if I have a spare mobile penis that I charge with car charger. People should fear God when saying some things o. Praise the lord.’ ‘

Let’s return to her story. So, what were your intentions when you invited her to your hotel suite?

’‘Special deliverance, I swear. God sees my heart. I had heard some uncomplimentary stuff about her and had caught her looking at me somehow during Pastoral Care Unit meetings, so I knew I had to intercede for her to retain God’s glory in her life. Praise the lord. Even when I asked her to come to the terrace it was so we could get cool breeze during the deliverance. All was well until she sat on my laps.’‘

What happened when she sat on your laps after you invited her to do so?

’‘My weakness arose. And when we kissed…my brother, do you eat seedless grapes? That’s what her tongue tasted like, soft and succulent. What was I to do? You people don’t know how hard it is to pastor a Pentecostal church in Nigeria, especially in this Abuja! You are there teaching the word of God and what do you have before you? Gorgeous women with sly smiles; with breasts, big and small, chiseled upon their chests like those old wood carvings; lips like cherries; eyes speaking to your soul, telling you their desires. Ah, until you have walked in my shoes you are not qualified to judge me. Praise the lord.’

‘Is it true you had sex with her everyday for seven days?

’‘Zachariah 10. It’s a level of grace you can’t understand.’‘Ask the Lord for rain in the spring for he makes the storm clouds. And he will send showers of rain so every field becomes a lush pasture.’‘You know your bible. Praise the lord.’‘Hallelujah.

And what styles and positions were employed?

’‘One does not talk about such things but suffice to say we were quite experimental, you know, those things one doesn’t ask from a wife. Praise the lord.’‘

So I’m free to assume missionary wasn’t top of the list?

’‘God forbid. Praise the lord. In fact, it was because of experimentation that we had our first quarrel.’‘

Really? What happened?

’‘She wanted me to use my silk ties to tie one of her legs to the door knob and the other to the window…I thought that was too much of a spread so I declined and she took offence. It was during round 4 on Day 7. Praise the lord.’‘

You know sir, each time you say ‘Praise the lord’, what I hear is Praise the Rod. It seems to me that you spend more time doing the rod’s work than you do doing the lord’s work.

’‘Who died and made you judge? Don’t make proclamation about me if you don’t want the wrath of God. I’m a man of God, remember? Praise the lord.’‘

Is this also why you’ve refused to explain yourself to your congregation?

’‘They don’t need any explanation. They know me.’‘

We would have to end this interview on this note sir. Thanks again for your time. By the way, I don’t know your middle name?

It’s Roderick.’‘

Say what?

’‘Roderick.’‘

RODerick?

Perfect.‘Praise the Lord.’

Culled from Thenet.ng

Chris Ihidero unedited.

This is a very sad story of a former sports editor of the defunct Daily times of Nigeria.Take some time to read his story as posted by his friend Azuka Jebose Molokwu.

In 1990, at the age of 31, I abandoned my job as the sports editor of Nigeria’s first evening daily paper, Evening Times, a subsidiary of THE DAILY TIMES of Nigeria. I relocated to United States to further my education and seek professional excellence with available opportunities in the world’s free press. I arrived Houston Texas, naïve and timid, with no formal training, information or survival guide kit to a migrant’s settlement in America, seeking all things bright and beautiful that “Yankee” had to offer. It’s “God’s own country”.

I settled into a shared apartment with a cousin willing to accommodate me until I integrated myself into a new lifestyle and culture. Everything functioned here. Everyday, I waited for the right opportunity to be indoctrinated into the American dream life by my cousin. While waiting for the appropriate time, I was privileged a social security number registered in my name. My cousin would come home, fill out some forms and asked me to sign them and import my social security…. I trusted everything he said and unknowingly empowered his criminal and fraudulent empire.

I married in 1992. Few minutes after my marriage, I was arrested by the FBI for alleged financial fraud, credit card and check frauds totaling $450,000 dollars. I never asked my cousin what I was signing. I willingly, though ignorantly surrendered my priced information to him. He used these against me.I began a long fight with Americas judicial system to clear my name. My identity had been stolen by a most trusted family member, used to commit a heinous financial crime. I was arrested by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I was and I am still innocent. Between these challenges, I got married. After years of court arguments and investigations, I was exonerated. The stress had taken a deep chunk off my soul. By 1998,I was diagnosed with kidney failure. Two years later, I had stroke that paralyzed my left body … One year after my stroke, my wife left because she could not care for a husband battered by stroke. In 2003, my ex wife who left me because I had stroke, was stroked. We have a 17 year old wonderful daughter.

I moved to Maryland after my divorce to begin a new life. I carried and still wear the sad badge of a victim of Identity fraud. I am still an undocumented immigrant as a result of the identity fraud. I am an illegal terminally sick alien. I am on dialyses three days a week, thanks to a wonderful Nigerian that owns the Community Dialyses Center in Maryland. In March, doctors diagnosed me with congestive heart failure. They gave me one year to live. I have till March next year to expire.

Few days ago, I called my friend and colleague, Azuka Jebose Molokwu and hopelessly told him my conditions. I wanted to go back home. I rented a room house in Maryland. The landlord was supposed to pay the light bills from my monthly rent. He allowed the bills late and lights had been interrupted. I am too weak and broke to fight him in court. I stayed In that house for several weeks without lights. I fell four times and each time stayed on the floor for eight hours because I had no help; my phone battery died and I had no power to charge my battery. I am disabled and weak. I wanted to return home.

This afternoon, I checked into a homeless shelter. But the female administrator said I didn’t belong there, after seeing my condition. She tearfully paid for my taxicab ride back to the Motel. I will be here until Azuka helps me…I am back to Motel 6, hoping for your assistance. Azuka convinced me that returning to Nigeria may not be the best option. I have a seventeen year old daughter that is close to me. I want her to bury me. I need your help in getting an apartment or a house the next one year or until my life expires. You are my family. After all, we are God’s children”.

Bank Details
BANK: CITY BANK
ACCOUNT NUMBER: 9106217030
ROUTING NUMBER: 052002166.

Latest Images