When I was in my final year in high school, I chanced upon one of my colleagues playing with himself. That was the beginning of my problems. I wasn’t bothered the day I saw him, but as the memory replayed in my mind, it affected me.

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At the time, I was the head of one of the Christian denominations on campus. I was even the chapel prefect, but my love for Christ took a nose dive after that encounter.

I didn’t know anything about fleshly pleasures but I started indulging in self-pleasure a few days after the bathroom scene. I was in a cubicle with two other guys. One of them had a phone. I secretly learned his password. Whenever he was away, I would unlock the phone and watch adult films on it. I did this every week until I completed school.

After writing my WASSCE, I stayed home for a year before going to the university. By that time my Christian life had become nonexistent. 

One day I pushed myself and went to church. After the service, I met my pastor and spoke to him about my struggles. I felt quite embarrassed about it but I wanted help. Right there and then, he started praying for me. What I didn’t like was how loud he was. Everyone around heard his voice. It made me feel bad. I didn’t return to the church after that

A few months later, I heard he fell from the top of his workplace building and died. I grieved him but I also felt relieved that the only person who knew my secret was dead. 

When I got admitted to the university, I joined our campus church. All seemed well at the start but soon enough, my habits took over. I was eager to stop but self-discipline could only last me a month. I prayed and fasted for days but nothing stopped. I became very dull in class.

Anyone who knew me in primary school and high school knew me as a bright and smart student but at the university, I was the dumbest in my class. I used to teach my colleagues in primary school and high school but now I was a laughing stock.

I took it to God in prayer. I fasted and prayed. I did everything possible to make it stop but it didn’t. Out of desperation, I took the matter to my campus pastor. He prayed for me and assured me that all was going to be well.

I went to my hostel with a renewed spirit, but the flesh did not change. I was still suffering. A few months after speaking with him, I received unfortunate news that he died.

The two people I had spoken to about my secret sin are all dead. Did I kill them? What evil have I done? I kept asking myself these questions.

I lost touch with reality. I graduated from university with a second-class lower. I refused to attend my graduation but a few friends had to pull me out of my shell to go and take pictures of my shameful self. I could not even tell my family it was my graduation. They saw the pictures and complained. I told them I didn’t want them to waste money on my failed degree.

I got the help of a lecturer on campus to apply for another degree hoping that things would be different. Nothing changed. I couldn’t speak in class. Whenever a lecturer asked a question, I trembled like a chicken out of water. I was always distracted. I couldn’t understand anything the lecturers taught. I was ashamed. This time around too, I graduated with a second class lower.

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Because of this problem, I was not able to keep meaningful relationships. My first relationship lasted for three weekends and the lady left. The second was less than six months. Since then, any lady I approach ends at the talking stage.

In all these, only the two dead pastors know my secret challenges, not even my family does. I have hoped that my dad and big brother would one day catch me in the act and help me stop but that hasn’t happened yet.

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It’s been over 10 years since it started but nothing has changed. I celebrated my 30th birthday a few months ago. It was supposed to be special but nothing felt special. I do it even without knowing it and these days, my knees get painful and my body becomes weakened after I am done. It feels like the stage where you know you could die.

I’m suffering. I want to stop but it looks like some forces stronger than I am do not want me to stop. I want to go to the pastor of my current church for help but I’m scared. What if he dies too?

—Peter

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