I am a devoted member of the church of Pentecost. I used to be so on fire for God. I used to pray with the zeal of Elijah. I had a personal relationship with God and my spiritual life was on point. Now, I can’t say the same things about myself and it is bothering me. It doesn’t help matters that I am married to a Jehovah’s Witness. Yes, we are all Christians but our faiths are polar opposites. I want to believe my husband is a major contributor to the decline of my prayer life. The question I keep asking myself is, “How did this happen? Why did I allow this to happen to me?” I will tell you all about it.

I had a difficult life growing up. My mother strived to put food on the table and clothes on our backs but money was always a problem. She tried very hard. I know she did, but we were girls who had needs she just couldn’t meet. She could not afford to buy us sanitary pads when we started getting our periods. So she would give us pieces of cloth to use. We would use the cloth, wash it when it is soaked, dry it, and reuse it. It was not ideal but it was the best she could do.

When it came to clothes, my sisters and I had two dresses each. I would wear one dress, and wash the other one so I would have something to change into when the other one got dirty. Where was my father in all this? My father with his poor finances decided to marry two wives. Unfortunately for us, we always got the short end of the stick when it came to him. His other wife and children got his attention and his money.

When I got to secondary school, my father would provide me with only gari and sugar. My mother would then add hot shito to it and they would send me off. Luckily for me, I had a boyfriend who would give me money to take care of everything my parents couldn’t cover for me. The guy lived in my neighborhood but we did our best to keep our relationship a secret from our families. We are ten years apart in age so I knew my mother wouldn’t approve of him. His parents wouldn’t approve of me either.

There were times we wouldn’t have anything to eat at home, and I would go to my boyfriend for money. I would take the money to Mum and make up a lie about where I got it. Despite all our struggles, she is not the kind of mother who would push her girls to men for money. She always encouraged us to live according to the word of God. I am the one who could not stand to see her suffer. That is why I strayed from the straight and narrow path just a little.

It got to a point where my boyfriend’s mother got to know about our relationship. And just as we feared, she did not approve. My mother also found out about him and was livid. She hated the guy instantly and warned me to stay away from him. Then the guy’s mother also came to my house to pick a fight with my mum because her son was spending money on me. “Tell your daughter to stay away from my son,” she screamed. The drama was just too much for me so I ended the relationship.

After him, I dated another guy. This time, it wasn’t because of financial benefits. I was with him because I loved him. However, my love for him and the three years I spent with him were not enough to keep our relationship going. We had to break up over irreconcilable differences. No sooner had that relationship ended had I gained admission to the nursing school to study a two-year program. It was good news but it also filled me with dread. “What will I do for money while I am in school? Who will take care of my younger siblings?” That was my worry.

Before I went to school, I started talking to a guy. He is a pastor and he wanted to marry me. I did not have any qualms about marrying a pastor. My problem with this particular pastor is that he was financially unstable. Sometimes I would have to give him money before he would eat. I was sad because of both our financial difficulties. Money problems aside, I loved him because of how much he loved God and the work of God. But love does not pay the bills, does it? When I got to campus, I had to buy books, pay hostel fees, and eat. But my man couldn’t help me. The guy could barely help himself.

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It was during that difficult point in my life that one of my coursemates started showing interest in me. Although he was also a student, he could take care of my needs. He paid my bills in bits till there was nothing left to pay. Before I accepted to be his girlfriend I had a conversation with the pastor. I told him, “I love you but I have met someone here on campus. He is interested in me and I want to give him a chance. I am sorry but I have to let you go.” We said our teary goodbyes and I moved on with the new guy I met on campus.

The guy was young and barely established in life but he is very kind and generous. Through his help, I was able to stay in school comfortably and send money home. I got enough money to even pay my siblings’ school fees. After school, I got a job and saw all my siblings through school. That is the one good thing that came out of all the help I received from men in order to stay in school. When I look at my siblings now, I smile. They are worth all the sacrifices I had to make.

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My problem now has to do with the man I ended up marrying. He is the guy I met in school who helped me finish my course. Our marriage is doing well. And God has blessed us with a beautiful daughter. Ideally, I have the perfect husband. He is an amazing father to our little girl. We have a really good marriage too. But I am deeply unhappy. I believe I made a mistake marrying him. If I could do it all over again, I would marry someone from my church or someone I could share my beliefs with.

All my relationships in the past did not drain me spiritually, but my marriage is doing that to me. My husband doesn’t create an atmosphere that will enable my charismatic faith to thrive. And the painful part is that he is dragging our daughter into his worship. This thing is hurting my heart and making me cry all the time. He is a great husband but he is bad for my spiritual health. Do I leave the marriage? How do you advise that I handle this hurdle?

–Efe

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