A Failed Ministry

“That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace. Let us pray”. These were the closing words for the sermon by Rev. James.

After service that warm Sunday, a lot of people stayed back to take counsel from Rev. James, my father. Some even took their children along with them. We waited patiently for him so we could return home together. While the church usher saw him off to the car, he rubbed his hand on my head and said “Tim you and your siblings are the luckiest children in the universe”. I looked up at him and smiled.

Childhood in the home of Rev. James was a structured pattern. We were always locked up with the maid at home while my parents traveled here and there for gospel ministrations.

Dr. Mrs. Sharon James was a huge fan of her dear husband so she supported his ministry with all she’s got.

They never had the time to even pop a pimple on our faces, neither to wipe our bodies after bath. Many times I had gone into their room crying but they ended up telling me to go to aunty Neki, my worst fear.

Aunty Neki was brought into our family when I was 2 years old according to my parents but yeah, I know her for as long as I’ve been in that home. She was basically our mother, playmate at home, and nanny. She was no doubt a good woman but had a monster right inside of her.

I was just about 5 years of age when she came into my room and opened her dress and asked me to touch her breast. I did all she asked me to do but it never stopped there. It grew more as my age increased. Soon I was a teenager and the whole process continued. It became a routine for me to pleasure her to bed. Many times she had asked me to do very awkward things and I did them because she threatened to beat me and since my parents weren’t always around, she was the next of kin.

One day I saw my younger brother crying and I asked him what the problem was but he was unable to tell me. I asked again and again but no response. Then I said to him “It must have been aunty Neki yeah? He nodded his head and I knew that my brother was in the same agony as I. Remember it didn’t change anything and the way people see us in the church as Rev. James’ children- the luckiest kids.

Years passed by and I turned into that monster she had bred. My parents complained about my not being a dedicated Christian, they complained that I wasn’t a born again even though my father was a reverend with deference. They never knew I was long gone far from what they knew. I  was wrongly exposed quite early and it became my weakness.  I couldn’t look past anything under a skirt. As I moved into the higher institution outside Nigeria, I had all the freedom, and rest of my life there was of course a total package of mess!


  • Dear parents, never think your ministry is flourishing because of the large audience in your church. You have a ministry to fulfill first at home.
  • If you fail in your ministry at home, you have failed in all.
  • Never think yourself qualified to take on the title of a bishop until you meet the requirement of ruling your own house well (1 Timothy 3:1-5, 12).
  • Do not live and be celebrated for pulling men into the kingdom of Christ, pull your children along!
  • Dear parents, do not leave the spiritual well-being of your children or wards to a nanny, house help, or maid. Remember all it cost you to bring those children to this world and remember that you will give an account of each of them before God, no matter how many souls you won.

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