Chasing Greatness :A Journey Of Hope

chapter 10: miracle

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Life went on for us, though every day felt like a battle. My mom, determined and desperate, began moving from church to church, seeking answers and praying for a breakthrough. Life was unbearably hard, but somehow, we pushed through.

I was in JSS 3 at the time, preparing for my junior WAEC exams. The deadline for registration was fast approaching, and there was no money to pay the fees. I was terrified—was I going to miss my exams and fall behind my peers? I cried quietly at night, too scared to voice my fears. Just when all hope seemed lost, my principal stepped in. He paid for me, asking only that we repay him when we could. I still don’t understand why he did it—perhaps it was because I was his favorite student.

I wasn’t an A-student; I was average, but I worked hard and tried my best. What I lacked in academics, I made up for with my social skills. I was active and vibrant, and somehow, that earned me my principal’s admiration. His kindness brought me a sense of relief and happiness I hadn’t felt in a long time. I was overjoyed to be able to write my exams with my peers, and I’ll never forget how that moment lifted a burden from my shoulders.

Meanwhile, my mom was barely holding on. She tried everything to contact my dad, but he ignored her calls. We eventually learned he had traveled back to Italy with the other woman. I think they left out of fear, knowing the mess they had caused. My mom, however, refused to give up. Fueled by determination, she found their phone numbers and began sharing them with people. Soon, my dad and his new wife started receiving endless calls from strangers—something that still makes me proud of my mom’s cleverness.

But when my mom learned they had fled, it broke her heart. She was disappointed, but she didn’t stop fighting. She turned to prayer and sought solace in God. We left our former church after they removed my mom from her position for swearing in the bush—a practice they said wasn’t Christian. I stayed behind, though, because I loved the church. I was part of the teenage choir and drama group, and that was my safe haven.

My mom, however, found a new church called Healing Cross Ministry. She started attending faithfully with my siblings and her niece, who was staying with us. I joined them occasionally for prayers, and I could sense a shift in the air. My mom was beginning to find peace, and it seemed her prayers were being answered. One day, the impossible happened—my dad finally called.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Why didn’t she just leave the marriage? It’s a valid question, but my mom had nowhere to go. Her siblings were struggling, and the only one who seemed to be doing well was in Kano—but even they were planning to relocate due to the ongoing war there. Her mother, my grandmother, was almost 80 years old and still struggling to survive. My mom had no skills, no education, and nothing to fall back on. Her marriage and her children were all she had, and she was determined to fight for us. She held on, even when it felt like there was nothing left to hold on to.

Looking back, I can see the strength it took for her to keep going. Her love for us and her faith in God carried her through the darkest days. And though life was far from perfect, my mom never stopped believing that one day, things would get better.