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An Untold Love Story
By Yagmur Dursun

2005/03/13

My name is Yagmur (it means "rain". I was born in rural Turkey, in a village. Generally Turkish women enjoy many freedoms, which our Arab sisters can?t even think of. Rural Turkey is a different story. Honour killings take place every day, women don?t have much say (if any) in household matters and female employment is out of question. However, much hard work is done by women because men don?t want to strain themselves; women are like cattle or slaves. If husband tells you to do something, you have to obey.

My mother was a fairly educated woman, she taught me at home and I even went to school. My hobby was reading books. Through them I learnt different languages and acquired a lot of knowledge.

I was a disciplined and obedient girl, unlike my sister who was somewhat uppity. When she was 18, she fell in love with a young man. They both loved each other but he was meant for another girl, thus his parents had decided. Dating is utterly forbidden in Islam, marriages are arranged and often young people meet on their wedding day.

My sister was rebellious. She ?dated? that young man. Every night she would go to see him. They even kissed and actually their relationship went too far. She got pregnant. At first they planned to run away to a big city where they would be safe. They knew in villages, religion rules and they could be in trouble. Authorities don?t care what?s going on in rural Turkey. Sometimes imams, mullahs and elders who try to practice Sharia and break the secular state law are punished but usually authorities are more interested in big cities full of tourists and turn a blind eye to what happens in villages.

I remember their young faces. I didn?t understand the whole situation; I was a little girl. But when I looked at them I could see they were happy. Their happiness made me happy too and I wanted to smile.

Instead of eloping, they decided to speak to my father. "Pregnancy is a very good reason to get permission for marriage", or so they thought.

Alas, my sister had miscalculated my father?s love for her and his obsession with his religion. He became furious. Instead of letting the two young lovers marry and build their nest of love, he took her to the religious elders and they ruled that she had committed adultery. She was sentenced to death by stoning. They showed no mercy even for her unborn child. She had stained the ?honour? of the family and the only way to remove that stain was to nip her life in the bud. Her unborn baby was a stain too and that little creature had to be destroyed as well, so my family could live honorably.

In the evening before her execution, she came to my room and told me that she would miss me. She was crying and hugged me to her bosom. Then she smiled and said that soon she would see her unborn baby. I was blissfully unaware of her fate, but I felt that something bad was about to happen. I was so scared!

I still remember her black eyes; she stared at the sky while she was dug into the ground. She was wrapped in white sheets and her hands were tide to her body. She was buried up to her waist. The rabid mob circled her with stones in their hands and started throwing them at her while the roars of Allah-u-Akbar Allah-u-Akbar added to their frenzy. She twitched with pain as the stones hit her tender body and smashed her head. Blood gushed out from her face, cheeks, mouth, nose and eyes. All she could do was to bend to the left and to the right. Gradually the movements slowed down and finally she stopped moving even though the shower of the stones did not stop. Her head fell on her chest. Her bloodied face remained serene. All the pain had gone. The hysteric mob relented and the chant of Allah-u?Akbar stopped. Someone approached and with a big boulder in his hand smashed the scull of my sister to finish her off. There was no need for that; she was already dead. Her bright black eyes that beamed with life were shut. Her jovial laughter that filled the world around her was silenced. Her heart that beat with such a heavenly love for only a short time had stopped. Her unborn baby was not given a chance to breathe one breath of air. He (or she) accompanied his young mother in her solitary and cold tomb, or who knows, maybe to a better place where love reigns and pain and ignorance are not known. These two budding lives had to be nipped so my father could keep his honour.





Woman being prepared for stoning- Iran


She wanted to marry a man whom she loved. She dreamt wearing a white wedding dress, that there would be a big ceremony, lots of people would be invited and they all would congratulate her, chant merry songs and throw flowers and confetti at her. Yes there was a ceremony, but it was not her wedding. She was dressed in white but that was not her wedding gown. Lots of people came to the party but they came to curse her and to throw stones at her. No music was played and no merry songs were sang; only screams of Allah-u-Akbar filled the air. The only hug she got was from the cold earth in which she was half buried. The only kisses that she received were from the rocks thrown at her that tore her flesh and broke her bones. They were the kisses of death. She was not united with the man whom she loved but was wed to death.

This was a tragedy for my sister?s young lover. His life lost its meaning. He got lashes but nothing more. He could well forget about the whole affair and get along with his life, but he didn't. I recall seeing him standing in front of our house every day, as if waiting for my sister to come out and meet him. I could see him crying. I can only imagine that when he was not crying in front of our house he was in the cemetery, crying over the grave of his love and his baby. One day he could no more bear his pain and hanged himself.

His death was hushed and no one talked about it. Maybe no one cared. He was reunited with his love and his baby. No one can hurt them anymore. No one can separate them from one another again.

It is a sad story. But unlike the story of Romeo and Juliet it is a story that is never told. No one talks about those young lovers. No one sheds tears for them. Not only they were buried, their memories were also buried as if they never existed - their tender love was a shame to others - a shame that had to be washed with blood.

But the saddest part is that according to Islam my sister deserved that death. The elders were sure she would be burning in Hell for eternity. No, I can't imagine that God can send someone to Hell for loving and for being happy. I can't accept a cruel God.



____----****O****----____

Now back to my life. When I turned 18, I was married off to a Turkish businessman from Germany. When I came to Germany I found out that he had another wife.

He is not a bad man at all. He is very kind, but he is a Muslim. He doesn?t understand why Europeans don?t like polygamy, for instance. He doesn?t allow us to leave the home. He protects our honour in this strange way.

Then we moved to the UK. Here we are even more isolated than in Germany because there are fewer Turks. In Germany we at least could meet our fellow expats.

As for my relationship with my husband's first wife, we are friends. There is some rivalry between us, that?s for sure. But I am alone and can?t meet anyone or leave home. Her life is just as dull and empty as mine. We can?t hate each other; we should be friends to overcome our troubles. My co-wife and I are like two cellmates. We only have each other. There is not much room for antagonism or hard feelings.

I have 5 children, she has 4. She occupies a more privileged position within our family because she has a son. I have given birth only to daughters so far.

We are both educated, but she is so obsessed with kids that she has given herself up. I am still trying to grasp at non-existent straws; probably one day I will be freed? I read books, keep myself informed and like to think. She is not remotely interested in reading books or thinking. I am alone.

Sometimes I think of running away, but I have 5 daughters. I can neither leave them, nor run away with them. Actually, I am stuck.

Even though I left Islam a long time ago, I cannot stop praying or fasting. My husband keeps a rod for the disobedient?

When I try to protest, my mouth is shut up with quotes from the Quran. Islam defines our lives. Isn?t it stupid that people live according to a book written a long time ago?

I am not whining about my life but I do hate Islam. At least I could object to certain traditions but Islam preserved the worst in our culture, reducing women into slavery and keeping them ignorant. What can you expect from an uneducated woman?

When I look at my daughters, I pray that they may live in a free world, free from Islam and this slavery.

Ali, you promised to defeat Islam very soon, so please do it.

I know sometimes you must feel like giving up. It seems to me you?ve devoted yourself fully to the good cause of yours. You may feel at times that you will never succeed. I just want to say that you are fighting for women like me. When you despair, think of me and millions of women with similar tragic experiences. Never give up. You are my knight in shining armour. I just want you to know that I am your keen supporter.



_______________________-

Please sent this story to your friends and publish it in your site.

Yagmur Dursun is a pen name. Some details of this story have been changed to hide the identity of the author.

Testimonials from Ex-Muslims
(murtadd and irtidad)



click picture to enlarge

Photo: this poor frightened woman is buried up to her waist in preparation for her stoning to death.

Zana's Story
Zana'a amazing conversion story. He meets an angel on a bus home from Prison


It all started in late 1980’s when I was detained by the Iranian police for no reason. They thought that I had some connections with Kurdish political parties that were opposing the Islamic Republic. I did not have any connection with any political party or anything of that sort. Months went by without them even letting my family know where I was. Finally, the day came when I was brought into court. The Judge asked me three questions that were asked of many people:

What is your name? -- I said Zana.

What is your ethnicity? -- I said I am a Kurd.

What is your religion? -- I said that I am a Sunni Muslim.

I was taken out of the court, thrown back into my cell and I was beaten all night. Next morning, they put me on a bus headed back to Mahabad, my city in Kurdistan. On the bus, I was sitting next to a man. He opened his bag and took out a sandwich which was wrapped in newspaper. I was very hungry since I had not eaten regular food in almost six months. I did not want to look at his food but I just couldn't stand the smell of the kabobs. He turned around and asked me if I would like one. Without hesitating as we usually do in Iranian culture, I asked for one. Instead of one, he gave me two out of the three that he had with him. I asked for his name and he said that his name was Yacub. I had never heard that name before. So I asked, "What kind of name is this?" He said "Hebrew". "Ahh, so you are a Jew?" I asked back. "No, I am a Christian", he said. I had heard a lot of negative things about Christians in the Quran so I did not want to get into a conversation about Christianity. But something inside me made me wonder why he believed in it (Christianity)? I asked if he believed that Jesus was the son of God. The answer was yes. How could God have a wife? How could God have sex? He started explaining that to say that God had sex with Mary is the greatest sin. But rather Jesus is the son of God in a spiritual way and not like the way we are born. And we never say that God ever had a wife, we believe in a holy God. I wanted to stop the conversation and begin a different subject. I could not think of any other subject, so I asked him why he was going to Kurdistan. He said that a friend needed some help with something. I asked for his name he said Zana. That was my name. But I thought it was a different person. He opened his bag and very quietly gave me a Bible. He put it in my bag. He knew that if someone saw him with that book it could cost him his life. I asked what it was. He told me that I would find out later.

We got to Mahabad and I got off the Bus before he did. I got my bag and was waiting outside for Yacub (Jacob) to come off, but the bus was empty and he still had not come out. I went to the driver and asked him where the man sitting next to me had gone? To my astonishment and confusion he said, "There was no man sitting next to you." Was I crazy or what? I said maybe I was dreaming. But I still had the taste of the sandwich in my mouth. I still had the book in my bag. What was Yacub? Who was he? Why didn't he go to his friend's house? Then I remembered that the friend's name was Zana and only then realized he meant me. I went home and found my mom in the house crying. She was so surprised and happy to see me. I asked what had happened since I had been gone. I found out that soldiers were looking for me and that she was raped by a Jaush (Kurdish for "traitor". When I heard that, I felt like somebody was hitting me in the back with sticks. I went to my room and wept like a baby. I could not believe that this really had happened.

That night when I asked for my older brother Hasan at dinner, they all started crying. They told me that he was hanged. I felt like the food was going through my back. I could not eat. I got up and went to my room for some more weeping. I felt like the whole world was on my shoulders and I felt like I was carrying the rocks. I had nothing to do, so I took out the book and started reading. After reading the first chapters of the book of Genesis, I went to read the Injil. I started reading the book of Matthew. I was surprised. I had never seen anything like this. I stopped at chapter ten and just went to bed. I still could hear my Mom and sister crying downstairs. The neighbors came to cheer them up and talk to them. Next morning life was normal, so I went and visited my brother's grave. Life became normal again until one night in my dream Yacub appeared and told me that I must leave my country. I knew something was up so I went and hid at a friend's house. I did not want to leave the country; I loved it.

Sometime after, I sneaked back to my house at night and discovered that soldiers had been in my house and they were looking for me. Now this time, it was my sister that was raped by the soldiers for no reason. My brother who was executed had some ties to the Kurdish political parties. But what had I done wrong, or what had my sister done wrong? Is this what they call an Islamic Republic? All I could think of was suicide. But I would now leave so many people behind. If it was not for my family I would have killed myself. I knew that Yacub was telling me something. But what? Help me Yacub; what do you want me to do? I went to my room and packed whatever I could because I was going to leave the country. I took the Bible with me and headed for the mountains crossing the boarders into Iraq. I stopped in the middle of nowhere for a rest. I took out my book and read in it. When I came to Matthew 11:28 "Come to me all who are heavy laden and weary and I will give you rest," I was shocked and did not know what to think because the book kind of read my mind. It had what my heart longed for. I found what I was looking for. I found what met my personal needs. Right there in the middle of the night I gave my life to Jesus Christ. I couldn't believe the changes that were happening inside of me. I felt a kind of peace that could not be expressed by words. I was relieved. I could feel all of the weight that I felt on my shoulders coming off. I now understood God and what he was like. It was a good thing that I did not commit suicide. The Lord had a plan for me. I now knew who Yacub was -- an angel. It was very hard to believe. I myself found it hard to believe. But an angel would be the best answer.

I now forgave all of those that done wrong to me. Instead of cursing, I prayed for the salvation of the people who had beaten me in prison. I am grateful for having such a wonderful experience. My sincere prayer is that God Almighty will show you the truth. I am willing to help you find the truth. I can be reached at the following address: Masihim@yahoo.com




READ ABOUT MORE MIRACLES AND ANGEL VISITS HERE

J'ai pensé que ces testimonials des ex-Musulmans pourraient vous intéresser...I

berem: I bow for these muslims o! Na now dem dey protest when the thing don become past tense? Na now their eyes open? Abeg make pesin help me shout ALLAHU AKBAR!

i tire oooo.... abi o ri nkan, infact u spoke my mind. Maybe dem dey sleep before.

i laugh so tay i shit for body

E no go better for all of una wey dey ask govt for compensation for una property wey the angry student burnt down. Who go come compensate the parents for their children wey una pple kill? einfact e no go kool for una 1 million times. abi oloriburuku ni yin ni? which compensation are u talking about? Now ur all claiming dat ur families are not part of those that killed those boys but they are part of those dat were watching while the boys were being dealth wit or are they not? ko ni da fun enu te fi nbere fun compensation yen loruko jesu. Igbo le ma kusi. Na bush una go die infact dem no go find una corpse< shiooooo!!

packman: [size=20pt]SHARK.... DID I HEAR YOU SAY SHARK IN A RIVER

AND THE WOMAN ESCAPED SHARK.......

NAWA OOOOOOO NIGERIA WITH DIRTY UNBILIVABLE STORY

ABEG NA KOTE FISH NA IM THE WOMAN SEE [/size]

LWKMD

DMainMan: [size=14pt][size=14pt] u c y Sharia is gud. if it were to b in a sharia state, d worst de would av done is to cut dere hand and that is if they are guilty with witness. But in a lawless christian dominated state, look at what happened. This is a proof of barbarity, violence, hatred, avarice and evil mongering among non muslims. u guys are bloody, scallywag confirmed terrorists infidels that killed your fellow christian uniport students.

No religion wil b accepted except ISLAM. While there is life, there is hope. I understand that the media are doin whateva it takes to ridicle Islam with fallacy but u dont have to fall to their prey anymore.

To know the truth about ISLAM, go to:
http://www.islam.com http://www.islamonline.com http://www.islamicreligion.com

For a free copy of the Holy Qur'an,
Go to: http://www.qurandownload.com

PARADISE AND HELL FIRE IS REAL. U WILL HAVE NO XCUSE ON THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT [/size][/size]

"No religion wil b accepted except ISLAM" your anabi muhammed said u shud be using islamic sword on christian, to be slaughtering christian but come to think of it is it fair just cos someone said he prefer christianity to islam? u killed him cos of that and ur saying no religion will be accepted except islam. Says who? you? JESUS CHRIST IS THE LORD!

I had been raised in a family that was well established in Islam, and I had studied Islamic history. I was not involved in any radical groups. But one of my Muslim friends was a member of an Islamic group that was actively slaughtering Christians. Ironically, he was a chemistry student and had only recently become serious about his faith. Nevertheless, he was active in jihad. One day I asked him, “Why are you killing our neighbors and countrymen whom we grew up with?”

He was angry and astonished at my challenge. “Out of all Muslims you should know. The Christians did not accept the call of Islam, and they are not willing to pay us the jizyah (tax) to have the right to practice their beliefs. Therefore, the only option they have is the sword of Islamic law.”


@ghazzal,
wat do u have to say to the above extracted from the story? "sword of islamic law"

candieangel12: I dont wear makeup cus im naturally beautiful. My complexion and skin is lovely so why damper with it? I get compliments all the time about my beauty sooo im good without makeup. Atleast I dont have 2 waste my money or time

paste ur pics make we see first b4 u conclude say u fine, na we go tell whether u fine or not.

JESUS CHRIST is never a prophet like u classified Him to be, HE IS THE LORD OF TRINITY, God the son, God the father and the Holy spirit. HE IS THE LORD Halleluyah!!!

Sweetnecta: Under a spell, you said about me, above? No my lady. I could never be under any spell. My family members and friends love me. I am no enemy to anyone and I am far away from people of bad eyes. I dont even ask anyone to pray for me because I can pray directly God for myself and whoever wants to pray for me must do it voluntarily and without telling about the intention of the act.

i dont get you forcing a prophet upon me as my Creator when he is also a creation like me. You need to keep your God because I have mine and He is The One God Who is not divisible and controls all offices and duties of being God.

@Kemoolala; The above is for you. No oma she o in my "matter".
so keep the oma she o for something else.

Point of correction Mr! JESUS CHRIST is never a creature like anybody, ur Muhammed is just a common being like any other person. And who's forcing Jesus Christ on u? HE knows how to capture u Himself if He really wants to, that is if ur not a condemned being like judas iscariot. Whether u like it or not JESUS CHRIST IS THE ONLY WAY TO UR SALVATION. Why not try and ignore HIM if u can, HE IS someone u cannot ignore. U either be for HIM or against HIM. That's d point!

Ellah, Allah. Yah Ellahu, Ya Allah.


These demonic names belong to who? Aanu e de se mi, may JESUS CHRIST the only son of God deliver u b4 it is too late for u. Amen.

Please pray 4 the 22 Christian Missionary families sentenced 2be executed by Islamists in Afghanistan. Pls PASS this as fast as u can so that many will pray!!

Ellah, Allah. Yah Ellahu, Ya Allah. I cry to you my Creator. You do not need anyone and yet everyone needs You. I will never add anyone to Your Godship or set up a rival with, against or acknowledge anything except You, Alone. I seek Your Forgiveness, Mercy and Favor.

woman, what am i supposed to do with you? I have my Lord, you have your Lords.

E yah! O ma se o! I pity ur life and still I pray for u dat it will not be too late b4 u know d truth, even ur fore father sef is d author of confussion, d master wen it comes to twisting d scripture/words of God. Now I know and 100% sure dat ur under a spell. MAY THE LORD JESUS CHRIST av mercy on u.

The Story of M A Gabriel and his Indian connection
The former professor of Islamic history at Al-Azhar University, Cairo, Egypt

Disillusioned at Al-Azhar

Fifteen years ago I was the imam of a mosque in the city of Giza, Egypt, which is where the famous Egyptian pyramids are located. (Imam of a mosque is a position similar to pastor of a Christian church.) I preached the message of the week on Fridays from 12 to 1 in the afternoon, as well as performed other duties.

One Friday the topic of my message was jihad. I told the two hundred fifty people seated on the ground before me: Jihad in Islam is defending the Islamic nation and Islam against the attacks of the enemies. Islam is a religion of peace and only will fight against one who fights it. These infidels, heathens, perverts, Christians and Allah’s grievers, the Jews, out of envy of peaceful Islam and its prophet—they spread the myth that Islam is promulgated by the sword and violence. These infidels, the accusers of Islam, do not acknowledge Allah’s words. At this point I quoted from the Quran: And do not kill anyone whose killing Allah has forbidden, except for a just cause. —Surah 17:33, The Noble Quran When I spoke these words, I was just freshly graduated from Al-Azhar University in Cairo, Egypt —the oldest and most prestigious Islamic university in the world. It serves as the spiritual authority for Islam worldwide. I was teaching at the university, and I was an imam on the weekend at this mosque.

I preached my sermon on jihad that day according to the philosophy of the Egyptian government. Al-Azhar University focused us on the politically correct Islam and purposely overlooked areas of teaching that conflicted with the authority of Egypt . I was preaching what they taught me, but inside I was confused about the truth of Islam. But if I wanted to keep my job and my status at Al-Azhar, I needed to keep my thoughts to myself. After all, I knew what happened to people who differed from Al-Azhar’s agenda. They would be fired and would not be accepted to teach at any other university in the nation.

However, I knew that what I was teaching at the mosque and at Al-Azhar was not what I’d seen in the Quran, which I had memorized in its entirety by the age of twelve. What confused me the most was that I was told to preach about an Islam of love, kindness and forgiveness. At the same time, Muslim fundamentalists—the ones who were supposed to be practicing true Islam—were bombing churches and killing Christians.

At this time the jihad movement was very active in Egypt. Reports of bombings and attacks against Christians were common. It was such apart of everyday life that one time I heard a bomb go off at a church as I was riding the bus. I looked and saw a plume of smoke rising up a quarter mile away.

I had been raised in a family that was well established in Islam, and I had studied Islamic history. I was not involved in any radical groups. But one of my Muslim friends was a member of an Islamic group that was actively slaughtering Christians. Ironically, he was a chemistry student and had only recently become serious about his faith. Nevertheless, he was active in jihad. One day I asked him, “Why are you killing our neighbors and countrymen whom we grew up with?”

He was angry and astonished at my challenge. “Out of all Muslims you should know. The Christians did not accept the call of Islam, and they are not willing to pay us the jizyah (tax) to have the right to practice their beliefs. Therefore, the only option they have is the sword of Islamic law.”

Seeking the Truth

My conversations with him drove me to pour over the Quran and the books of the Islamic law, hoping to find something to contradict what he said. I couldn’t change the reality of what I read. As a Muslim, I realized I had two options:

I could continue to embrace the “Christianized” Islam—the Islam of peace, love, forgiveness and compassion, the Islam tailor-made to fit Egyptian government, politics and culture—thereby keeping my job and status.

I could become a member of the Islamic movement and embrace Islam according to the Quran and the teachings of Muhammad. Muhammad said, “I left you with something [the Quran]. If you hold on to what I left with you, you will not be led astray forever.”

Many times I tried to rationalize the kind of Islam I was practicing by saying to myself, well, you are not too far out. After all, there are verses in the Quran about love, peace, forgiveness and compassion. You only need to ignore the part about jihad and the killing of the non-Muslims. I went to every interpretation of the Quran trying to avoid jihad and killing non-Muslims, yet I kept finding support of the practice. The scholars agreed that Muslims should enforce jihad on infidels (those who reject Islam) and renegades (those who leave Islam). Yet jihad was not in harmony with other verses that spoke of living at peace with others. All the contradictions in the Quran were really causing a problem for my faith. I spent four years to earn my bachelor’s degree, graduating second out of a class of six thousand. Then there was another four years for my master’s and three more for my doctorate—all studying Islam. I knew the teachings well.

In one place alcohol was forbidden; in another it was allowed (compare Surah 5:90–91 with Surah 47:15). In one place it says Christians are very good people who love and worship one God, so you may be friends with them (Surah 2:62, 3:113–114). Then you find other verses that say Christians must convert, pay tax or be killed by the sword (Surah 9:29 ). The scholars had theological solutions to these problems, but I wondered how Allah, almighty and all powerful, could either contradict himself so much or change his mind so much.

Even the prophet of Islam, Muhammad, practiced his faith in ways that contradicted the Quran. The Quran said Muhammad was sent to show the mercy of God to the world. But he became a military dictator, attacking, killing and taking plunder to finance his empire. How is that showing mercy? Allah, the god revealed in the Quran, is not a loving father. It says that he desires to lead people astray (Surah 6:39 , 126). He does not help those who are led astray by him (Surah 30:29) and desires to use them to populate hell (Surah 32:13).

Islam is full of discrimination—against women, against non-Muslims, against Christians and most especially against Jews. Hatred is built in to the religion.

The history of Islam, which was my special area of study, could only be characterized as a river of blood.

Dangerous Questions

Finally, I reached the point where I was questioning the faith and the Quran with my students at the university. Some of them were members of terrorist movements, and they were enraged: “You can’t accuse Islam. What has happened to you? You have to teach us. You have to agree to Islam.” The university heard about it, and I was called in for a meeting in December 1991. To summarize the meeting, I told them what was in my heart: “I can no longer say that the Quran comes directly from heaven or from Allah. This cannot be the revelation of the true God.”

These were very blasphemous words, in their opinion. They spat in my face. One man cursed me, “You blasphemer. You bastard.” The university fired me and called the Egyptian secret police. The Secret Police Kidnapped Me to understand what happened next; you need to have a picture of how my family lived. My father had a very large home that was three stories tall. My whole family lived together in this house—my parents, my four married brothers with their families, my unmarried brother and myself. Only my sister lived elsewhere because she was married and lived with her husband. The house was divided into many apartments, and we were very comfortable. On the first floor were my parents’ apartment and an apartment I shared with my brother. On the floors above us were apartments for my other brothers. At three o’clock in the morning on the very same day that the university kicked me out, my father heard knocking at the door of our house. When he opened the door, fifteen to twenty men rushed in carrying Russian Kalashnikov assault weapons. They were not wearing uniforms, just regular clothes. They ran upstairs and all through the house, waking people up and looking for me. I think so many men came in at once so that I couldn’t run away before they found me.

They were all over the house before one of them found me asleep in my bed. My parents, brothers, spouses and children were awake, weeping and terrified, as they dragged me away. Everybody in the area heard the commotion.

I was taken to a place that looked like a prison and was placed in a cell. In the morning my parents frantically tried to figure out what had happened to me. Right away they went to the police station and demanded, “Where is our son?” But nobody knew anything about me. I was in the hands of the Egyptian secret police.

The Egyptian Prison

Spending time with the Egyptian secret police is much different than a visit to an American prison. They put me in a cell with two radical Muslims accused of committing terrorist acts. One was Palestinian and the other Egyptian.

For three days I was given no food or water. Every day the Egyptian man asked me, “Why are you here?” I refused to answer because I was afraid he would kill me if he knew that I had questioned Islam. On the third day, I told him I was a teacher at Al-Azhar University and an imam in Giza . Immediately he gave me a plastic bottle of water and some falafel and pita that were brought to him by his visitors, but he told me that the police had warned him not to give me anything. On the fourth day, the interrogation began. For the next four days the goal of the secret police was to make me confess that I had left Islam and to explain how it happened.

The interrogation began in a room with a large desk. My interrogator sat behind the desk, and I sat on the other side. Behind me were two or three police officers.

They were sure that I had been evangelized and converted to Christianity, so the interrogator kept badgering me, “What pastor did you talk to? What church have you been visiting? Why have you betrayed Islam?” He asked many questions. One time I hesitated too long when I answered. He nodded to the men behind me. They grabbed my hand and held it down on the desk. My interrogator held a lit cigarette. He reached over and extinguished it into the top of my hand. I still have this scar. I also have the scar on my lip where he did the same thing. Sometimes he used the cigarettes when he got angry; other times the officers just hit me across my face.

As my interrogation continued, the pressure grew stronger. One time they brought a fire poker into the room (the iron rod that you use to move burning wood in a fire). I wondered, what is that for? The next time the interrogator wanted to make his point, I found out. The poker was red hot, and one officer pressed it into the flesh of my left arm.

They wanted me to confess that I had been converted, but I said, “I didn’t betray Islam. I just said what I believe. I am an academic person. I am a thinker. I have a right to discuss any subject of Islam. This is part of my job and part of any academic life. I could not even dream of converting from Islam—it is my blood, my culture, my language, my family, my life. But if you accuse me of converting from Islam for what I say to you, then take me out of Islam. I don’t mind to be out of Islam.”

The Whip

My answer was not what they wanted to hear. I was taken to a room with a steel bed in it. They tied my feet to the foot of the bed and then put heavy stockings on them, almost like oven mitts.

One officer had a black whip, about four feet long, and he began whipping my feet. Another officer sat down next to me at the head of the bed with a pillow in his hands. When I cried out, he pushed the pillow into my face until I was quiet. I could not stop crying out, so a second officer came to put an extra pillow over my face.

As I was beaten I went unconscious, but when I woke up the officer was still whipping my feet. Then he stopped and they untied me, and one officer commanded, “Stand up.” I couldn’t at first, but he took the whip and beat my back until I stood.

Then he showed me a long passageway and said, “Run.” Again, when I couldn’t do it, he whipped my back until I ran down the passageway. When I got to the end, there was another officer waiting for me. He whipped me until I ran back to where I came from. They made me run back and forth. Later, I learned why they did that. The running was so that my feet wouldn’t swell. The stockings were so I wouldn’t have marks on my feet from the whipping. I assume the pillows were so nobody could hear my cries. Next I was taken to something that looked like a small, aboveground swimming pool. It was filled with ice-cold water. The officer with the whip said, “Get in,” so I got in. It was so cold that I tried to get out, but he whipped me every time I made a move.

I have low blood sugar, and it wasn’t very long before I passed out from the cold. When I woke up I was lying on my back in the bed where they whipped my feet, still in my wet clothes.

A Night in the Dark

One evening I was taken outside behind the building. I saw what looked like a small, concrete room with no windows or doors. The only opening was a skylight on the roof. They made me climb a ladder to the top and demanded, “Get in.” When I sat on the edge and put my feet down in the opening, I felt water. I could also see there was something swimming on the top of the water. This is my grave, I thought. They are going to kill me today. I slid down into the opening and felt the water rise up over my body, but then to my surprise I felt solid ground under my feet. The water only came up to my shoulders. Then rats, which were what I saw swimming in the water, started crawling all over my head and face. These rats had not been fed for a very long time. My interrogators were being clever. “This guy is a Muslim thinker,” they said, “so we will have the rats eat his head.” I was very scared for the first minute after they closed the skylight. They left me there all night and then came back the next morning to see if I were alive. When the skylight opened and I saw the sunlight, it was hope for me that I had survived and was still alive.

All that night not one rat bit me. They climbed all over my head and in my hair and played with my ears. One rat stood on my shoulders. I felt their mouths against my face, but it almost felt like kisses. I never felt a tooth. The rats were utterly faithful to me. Even today when I see a rat, I have a feeling of respect. I cannot explain why the rats behaved this way. Meeting with a Dear Friend The interrogation was not over. Later the officers took me to the door of a small room and said, “There is someone who loves you very much who wants to meet with you.” I asked, “Who is this?” I was hoping it was one of my family members or a friend to visit me or get me out of prison. They said, “You don’t know him, but he knows you.” They opened the door to the room, and inside I saw a big dog. There was nothing else in the room. Two people took me inside and then left me and shut the door. This was the first time my heart cried out. In my heart I cried to my Creator, You are my father, my God.You are to look after me. How can you leave me in these evil hands? I don’t know what these people are trying to do to me, but I know you will be with me and one day I will see you and meet you.

I walked to the middle of the empty room and slowly sat down cross-legged on the floor. The dog came and sat down in front of me. Minutes went by as this dog looked me over. I watched his eyes move from top to bottom over and over again. I went in my heart to prayer to the God I did not yet know. The dog got up and started walking in circles around me, liken animal about to eat something. Then he came to my right side and licked year with his tongue. He sat down by my right side and just stayed there. I was so exhausted. After he just sat there for a while, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the dog was in the corner of the room. He ran to me, as if to say good morning. Then he licked my right ear again and sat down again at my right side.

When the officers opened the door they saw me praying with the dog sitting next to me. I heard one say, “I can’t believe this man is a human being. This man is a devil—he’s Satan.” The other replied, “I don’t believe that. There is unseen power standing behind this man and protecting him.” “Which power? This man is an infidel. It’s got to be Satan because this man is against Allah.”

Someone watching over me they took me back to my cell. While I was gone, my Egyptian cellmate had asked the police, “Why are you persecuting this man?” They told him, “Because he is denying Islam.” That made my cellmate furious. As soon as I got back in the cell, he was ready to kill me. But I had only been in there fifteen to twenty minutes when a police officer came with transfer papers for this man and took him away. I had to ask myself, What is going on here? What power is protecting me? At that time, I did not know the answer. I did not spend much time wondering about it. In a short while my own transfer papers came through. I was to be taken to a permanent prison in southern Cairo . At this point I did not think that my interrogators were even human. I had been arrested for merely questioning Islam. Now my faith was really shaken. And I was on my way to another prison.

The next week I spent in a prison in southern Cairo . It was relatively relaxed time. God sent me a prison guard who did not agree with radical Islam. All during this time my family was trying to find out where I was. They had no success until my mother’s brother, who was a high-ranking member of the Egyptian Parliament, returned to the country after traveling overseas. My mother called him, sobbing, “For two weeks we have not known where our son is. He is gone.” My uncle had the connections that were needed. Fifteen days after I was kidnapped, he came to the prison personally with the release papers and took me home.

Later, the police gave my father this report: We have received a fax from Al-Azhar University accusing your son of leaving Islam, but after an interrogation of fifteen days, we found no evidence to support it. My father was relieved to hear this. Out of all my brothers and sisters, I was the only one who had studied Islam at the university, and he was very proud of me. He could not even imagine I would ever leave Islam, so he attributed the whole incident to a bad attitude toward my scholarship on the part of the people at the university.

“We don’t need them,” he said, and he asked me to start work immediately as a sales director for his factory. He owned a successful business that produced leather jackets and men’s and women’s clothing.

A Year without Faith

For one year I lived without any faith. I had no God to pray to, to call to, to live for. I believed in the existence of a God who was merciful and righteous, but I had no idea who He was. Was He the God of the Muslims, the Christians or the Jews? Or was He some animal—like the cow of the Hindus? I had no knowledge of how to find Him.

You have to understand that if a Muslim comes to the conclusion that Islam is not the truth and he has no religion to turn to, it is the most difficult time in his life. Faith is in the fabric of the life of a Middle Eastern person. He cannot imagine how to live without knowing his God. During this whole year, my physical body expressed the pain that was in my spirit. Though I had every material thing I needed, I was plagued with a deep tiredness from constantly trying to use my mind to figure out the identity of the true God. I suffered constantly from headaches. I went to a doctor who was a relative of the family. He did a scan of my brain, but heeded not find anything wrong. He prescribed some tablets that helped.

The Sermon on the Mount

I ended up visiting a nearby pharmacy one or two times a week for packets of tablets, getting a small number of tablets each time, hoping the headaches would just go away for good. After I had been coming for a while, the pharmacist asked me, “What is going on in your life?” I told her, “Nothing is going on. I have no complaint except for one thing: I am living without God. I don’t know who is my God, who created me and created the universe.”

She said, “But you were a professor at the most respected Islamic university in Egypt . Your family is very respected in the community.” “That is true,” I replied, “but I have discovered falsehoods in their teachings. I no longer believe my home and family are built on a foundation of truth. I had always clothed myself in the lies of Islam. Now I feel naked. How can I fill the emptiness in my heart? Please help me. ” “OK,” she said. “Today I will give you these tablets, and I will give you this book—the Bible. But please promise me not to take any tablets before you read something from this book.” I took the book home and opened it at random. My eyes fell on Matthew 5:38: You have heard that it was said, “Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.” But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.

My whole body began trembling. I had studied the Quran my whole life—not once did I find words as inspiring as this. I had come face to face with the Lord Jesus Christ.

I lost all track of time. It felt as if I were sitting on a cloud above a hill, and in front of me was the greatest teacher in the universe telling me about the secrets of heaven and the heart of God. I could easily compare the Bible to what I had learned from my years of studying the Quran, and there was no doubt in my mind that I was finally encountering the true God. I was still reading in the early hours of the next day, and by dawn I gave my heart to Jesus.

Ambushed I only told the pharmacist and his wife that I had accepted Jesus, but in Egypt, if anyone left Islam, it was automatically assumed that he had become a Christian and therefore must be killed. Because of this, fundamentalists sent two men to ambush me and kill me. It happened when I was walking home from visiting a friend. It was only a fifteen- or twenty-minute walk through Giza . I was on Tersae Street , near my home, when I saw two men standing in front of a grocery shop. They we redressed traditionally with the long, white robes, long beards and head coverings. I thought they were just customers. I never imagined they would do anything to me.

When I reached the shop, they stopped me, and then suddenly both pulled out knives and began trying to stab me. I had no weapon, and because it was a hot day, I was just wearing a T-shirt and pants. I put up my hands to protect myself. Again and again the blades struck me and cut my wrists. There were other people on the street, but no one helped me. They just gathered to watch. This was typical for those years. People would intervene if it was just a fistfight, but they wouldn’t get involved with knives. They also didn’t want to be in the way if someone pulled a gun. The first attacker was trying to stab my heart. He almost did it, but I moved. He missed by about five inches and got me in the shoulder instead. When he pulled the knife out, I remember looking down and seeing the blood come out in a stream.

I fell to the ground and just curled up in a little ball, trying to protect myself. Then the other attacker tried to stab me in the stomach, but the blade turned, and he stabbed me in the shin instead. By this time I had lost so much blood that I passed out. There was no hope for me until two police officers arrived on motorcycles and my attackers ran away. I was taken to the hospital and treated. In the hospital, the police asked if I knew why I was attacked. I said I did not. Again, my father rejected any evidence that I was abandoning Islam. He just could not think in those terms.

My Father Learns the Truth I continued to work for my father and did not speak of my new faith. In fact, he sent me to South Africa in 1994 to explore business opportunities for him. While there, I spent three days with a Christian family from India .When we parted, they gave me a small cross on a necklace to wear. This small cross marked the turning point in my life. After a little more than a week, my father noticed the chain on my neck and became very upset because, according to Islamic culture, only women are allowed to wear jewelry around their necks. “Why do you wear this chain?” he demanded.

It seemed as if my tongue spoke on its own as I replied,” Father, this is not a chain. This is a cross. It represents Jesus, who died on a cross like this for me, for you and for everybody in the whole world. I received Jesus as my God and Savior, and I pray for you and for the rest of my family to also accept Jesus Christ as your Savior.”

First, my father fainted right there in the street. Some of my brothers rushed out to him, and my mother started crying in fear. I stayed with them as they bathed my father’s face with water. When he came to, he was so upset he could hardly speak, but he pointed at me. In a voice hoarse with rage he cried out, “Your brother is a convert. I must kill him today!”

Wherever he went, my father carried a gun under his arm on a leather strap. (Most wealthy people in Egypt carry guns.) He pulled out his gun and pointed it at me. I started running down the street, and as I dived around a corner, I heard the bullets whining past me. I kept running for my life. Leaving My Home Forever I ran to my sister’s house, which was about half a mile away. I asked her to help me get my passport, clothes and other documents from my father’s house. She wanted to know what was wrong, and I told her, “Father wants to kill me.” She wanted to know why, and I said, “I don’t know. You must ask Father.”

When I ran away, my father knew exactly where I was headed because my sister and I were very close, and her house was nearby. My father had walked to my sister’s house, and he arrived while she and I were talking. He banged on the door, crying with tears streaming down his face, “My daughter, please open the door.” Then he shouted, “Your brother is a convert! He has left the Islamic faith. I must kill him now!”

My sister opened the door and tried to calm him down. “Father, he is not here. Maybe he went to another place. Why don’t you go home and relax, and later we can talk about this as a family.” My sister had mercy on me and gathered my things from my parents’ house. She and my mother gave me some money, and I got in my car and drove away on the evening of August 28, 1994.

For three months I struggled to travel through Northern Egypt, Libya, Chad and Cameroon. I finally stopped in the Congo. At that point I had malaria. They found an Egyptian doctor to examine me. He said that I would be dead by morning, and they made arrangements to get a coffin from Congo ’s Egyptian embassy to send me back home.

To their shock, I woke up the next morning. I left the hospital after five days and started to tell people everywhere about what Jesus did for me. Life as a Follower of Jesus Ten years have gone by since I accepted the Lord Jesus as my Savior. He called me and gave me a personal relationship with Him—something that Islam never offered.

I have never stopped crying for my Muslim people, whom I left behind, asking the Lord to deliver them from the darkness of Islam. As you read the pages of this book, you will come to understand how great this darkness is. It is the teachings of Islam that have produced terrorists who seem capable of any kind of evil in the name of Allah. Now the whole world wants to understand what Islam teaches. A great amount of misinformation has been shared in the media and on the Internet. My goal is to help you see plainly why these people do what they do. I don’t want to motivate you to anger, however. I want to motivate you to believe—to believe for the fall of Islam and the release of its captives, in Jesus’ name.

JOHN 1:12 says for as many as received HIm, to them He gave the right to become chilren of God,even to those who believe in His name. Since I av received HIM, HE IS MY FATHER AND I AM HIS CHILD and so also my earthly father is HIS SON too. Mind u HE says "FOR AS MANY AS RECEIVED HIM" to them HE gave the right to become HIS children, u are not exclusive my dear HE LOves u too, all u need do is to confess HIM that HE IS THE LORD.

Sweetnecta: you are not sincere about Jesus. and this is the reason you cant prove that he is Lord when Yahweh is his Lord. or do you believe in Lord must have a Lord? if thats your believe who is the Lord of Yahweh? The Lord of all is the Only Lord I know and acknowledge. He is unlike lord Luggard.

Your father is a nigerian and he will remain your father while Yahweh is your Lord and not your father. The Creator created you to live and at some point, make each of us die. I have been asking you this lady to give me the name of the wife of Yahweh if you insist that He has a son. no one has a son unless he is the husband, legal or not of the woman who bore the child.

stop living in lala land [fantasy]. the reality is that there is One Creator Who is our Lord. The rest of us are His creations. From mankind He created, you have prophets [as]. one of such prophet is Jesus son of Mary.

That same creator is JESUS CHRIST,HE'S Also the same YAHWEH, HE's the ALPHA and OMEGA,HE's also THE BEGINNING and THE ENDING, THE ANCIENT OF DAYS,THE BRIGHTESTEST OF MORNING STAR,HE's the only one that iS concieved thru devine conception, He LIVES FOREVER.HE DIED AnD ROSE AGAIN,WHAT A MIGHTY GOD HE IS! HE IS THE LORD OF TRINITY, HE IS THE FATHER, THE SON, and. THE HOLY SPIRIT.THE ALMIGHTY. That's a misery and u won't understand it since ur heart is rigid.u know wat? HE has the power to save u if HE wills.HE IS EVRYWHERE At the same time, HiS NAME IS JESUS ChRIST! HE IS THE LORD. HALLELUYAH HE LIVES FOREVER.

Whether u like it or not JESUS CHRIST IS THE LORD.HE is My father and HE iS all I have in the world, HE Is the father to anyone that is ready to live for HiM, HE is THE LORD.THE ONLY TRUE SON OF GOD.

Mighty Sparrow: There should be no controversy about Mohammad his real name is Kasim Abdulallah. He is no prophet at all and cannot be compared with Jesus son of Jehovah. No prophet before him in Tora and injeel knew God by fraudulent demon called Allah. If he received any revelations at all devil gave it to him. He was more a politician than a prophet. He is a fraud. His legacies speak for him: thievery, war mongering, and confusion of scriptures to perpetrate evil and twist scriptural facts and history. Truth only can be verified by reason when someone denies reason he is a fraud. The western world his followers love to hate began to make progress when they began to question scriptures. Their findings is never a threat to Jehovah. Putting Muhammed' s revelations under the microscope of reason, it never stand the test of time. Muslims be wise and follow the one who not only telling the truth, His name is TRUTH - the end of all searches and researches JESUS IS LORD!

YES the Truth shall surely be told no amount of critics can stop the name of jesus christ from manifesting. HE is the LOrd. The book of John 1:12 made us to understand that for as many as received HIm, to them He gave the right to become chilren of God,even to those who believe in His name. Halleluyah!! Salvation is for all irrespective of race, color, language , halleluyah!! THE GREAT I AM THAT I AM,THE LILY OF THE VALLEY, the same yesterday, today ,tomorrow and forever. HE IS A GOD OF MANY NAMES, HIs name is JESUS CHRIST.

Sweetnecta: ^^ You are wrong in calling yourself child of God because your father is your mother's husband. You are also wrong in calling me a messenger because I am not. Jesus was a messenger. So was Moses. So was Abraham. So was Ishmael. Was was Noah. So was Muhammad [sa].

maa ton rae.

I HAVE A FATHER THAT WILL NEVER EVER FAIL ME AND THE FATHER IS JESUS CHRIST, the only true son of GOD thru Him alone we are save. HE is also ready to accept you too as His son only if u are ready for Him cos He will never force u and it will be of good benefit for u if can allow Him to adopt u too. Just av a taste of Him and stop classifying urself as slave, u too can be His son.

Sweetnecta: @Kemoolala: where did you originate from except yoruba land from yoruba father and or mother? i am assuming kemoolala is a 'yoruba' language derived moniker.


if He were a yoruba, which He is not but The Creator of all.


i am not a messenger, but Jesus son of Mary [as] was a messenger.


read the above and see who you are characterizing.


just because you are lying to yourself does not mean that i must fall into the same lie about myself. my father was known, my Creator is known, too.


who gave you the right, considering that you confess that Jesus the messenger, son of Mary is your Lord, then how are you the daughter of Yahweh Who created all, sent Jesus to deliver a message of hope to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, wherein you are not even from children of israel? you are deceiving yourself, sister.


your case is like the case of a slave who is telling everyone that she is the daughter of the master, even though she sleeps in the slave quarters. who is she fool.ing except herself. I dont need a father because i know who was the husband of my mommy. My God is different from him.

JESUS CHRIST is the true son of God and not a MESSENGER for your information, Through Him alone the salvation of your soul is sure. HE is someone you can not Ignore, u either be for Him or against Him, it will be better for u to be for Him cos He is only the Truth and the only way to salvation of ur soul. JESUS CHRIST IS THE LORD!

obviously u dont know whom u really are and i do so i do not av augument wit u concerning dat I AM A CHILD OF GOD AND U ARE A MESSENGER OF GOD. Good day!

Sweetnecta: @kemoolala: i know Mary is the mother of Jesus. But who is the wife of God for God to be a father?

Every father has legal wife otherwise children attach to him will be a lie or a basta.rd. This is the reality.

God the Creator creates. If He were to set example, it will be the best. God can not have a bastard unless He has a legal wife or somebody or group is lying on Him.

I know where i originated from and that is why i am a child of God and u av said it that u are a messenger, a messanger can either be a bastard or an elien, but u also av a choice too if u want to become HIS son, cos the bible made us to understand that for as many that can confess HIM to be Lord is given the right to become HIS son, so u too can become HIS son today and seize to be a messenger fron henceforth. CONGRATULATIONS IN ADVANCE!

olawalebabs: in islam, every creature is a messenger of Allah

ok.. thanks to Nairaland for enlighten me the more, all christians are child of God while all moslems are messenger of God(ERU OLORUN)BUT we are not and that is why we have access into HIS inner room unlike the messengers. Messengers are always limited in some benefit from his master but as a true son, we call HIM FATHER/DADDY too.

[quote author=alagbasuyi]As e com b so,nairaland don taya me,
1 shey na pastor adeboye b d president wey no allow 9ja develop lik oda foreign nations ni?.point ur accusing fingers in d right directn,blame ur so called ministers,special advisers,d many plenty committees nd ur president

2 una dey complain lik say na him wan chairman d peace talk,he only gave a suggestn,I knw he wud av given many of sch to our president,its left for dem to follow,he isn't forcin himsef on dem

3 seun nd ds shitty moderators are bigots,if ds had bn concernin an imam or ds weak nd "ashewo" muhammed al u wud av sn is 'this post has been hidden',yet dy ddnt hide any insultive nd abusive post directd to ds gentle man of GOD
4 the man is doing is work as a pastor,he knws wot his work entails nd he is doin well at it(seeking peace).nt lik mr president who is clueless on evri issue.d pastor's job is to preach salvatn,peace nd righteous life styl,its governmnet's job to plan au 9ja wil develop(technologically,financially etc)nd excute such plans

Stop hating nd get a life[/qu

Thanks jare my bro! Leave them make dem dey talk anyhow d only thing be say by d time God hiself started hammer dem one by one dem go dey talk say na one witch for their family or their village dey do dem, all I know is dat elese kan o ni lo laijiya ese e and definitely all ur sins shall come upon una family from first generation to forth generation. Na Holy bible talk am.

olawalebabs: Muhammad (SAW) is the messenger of Allah, the seal of all prophet, the messenger send as Rahama (blessing) to the whole world. The best of characters truly is that of the Prophet (SAW).

Ok.. now I know who muhammed is,A MESSENGER OF GOD! Ok I am much more clear now a messenger oF God. While Jesus Christ is the SON of God. Thanks to Nairaland!

Nayoanalytical: With all due respect to Pst Adebayo,sir,what effort have you made so far to curb the problems facing Nigeria such as the Boko Haram Insurgency,High moral decadence? etc,now you are advocating peace in the middle east where they wouldn't even listen to you as a xtian,sir is it not better off to assist our weak/inactive president in prayers and actions to deal with the numerous problems facing Nigerians,though i can see slight improvement on power supply.Think about it sir.Thank you sir.

infact i find it difficult to comprehend wat u guys are up to whenever u are refering to pastor Adeboye in the affairs of Nigeria, is the man the president of nig? how on earth will u be expecting him to do wat even the mr president fail to do as a president, it is better u face the reality and stop criticizing his efforts. I couuld remb wen u pple said the man shud rehabilitate the road wit the worshipper's tithe and offering i wonder wat mr president will be doing wit our taxes then, better wake and stop criticizing this man. Anyway, why am i even pleading sef? the more u criticize him the more God blesses him pls i beg u ijn dont stop ooooo continue till u enter grave..shioo!!!! author=Nayoanalytical]With all due respect to Pst Adebayo,sir,what effort have you made so far to curb the problems facing Nigeria such as the Boko Haram Insurgency,High moral decadence? etc,now you are advocating peace in the middle east where they wouldn't even listen to you as a xtian,sir is it not better off to assist our weak/inactive president in prayers and actions to deal with the numerous problems facing Nigerians,though i can see slight improvement on power supply.Think about it sir.Thank you sir.[/quote]infact i find it difficult to comprehend wat u guys are up to whenever u are refering to pastor Adeboye in the affairs of Nigeria, is the man the president of nig? how on earth will u be expecting him to do wat even the mr president fail to do as a president, it is better u face the reality and stop criticizing his efforts. I couuld remb wen u pple said the man shud rehabilitate the road wit the worshipper's tithe and offering i wonder wat mr president will be doing wit our taxes then, better wake and stop criticizing this man. Anyway, why am i even pleading sef? the more u criticize him the more God blesses him pls i beg u ijn dont stop ooooo continue till u enter grave..shioo!!!!

wat is the meaning of SAW that moslem put in bracket after his name?

Sam Milla: This Adeboye thinks Americans are dumb like our people.

Mr Adeboye wants to go to the middle east to tell them what Jesus, their son said in a book. #morooon

i prophesize in the name that is above all names, in the name of God that Adeboye and I serve that ur finger that u take type dis msg withered now ijn