The Devil of America Wants Me!: My Memoir

By Chioma Afoke

In the darkest period, when the heavy insurgents of attacks were very obvious in my life, I felt the need to fight back, I wanted to fight differently. I was so tired of the constant harassments. Then came the voice of God ; He said to me, “You cannot do what you are planning to do, put it in writing, tell the world your story. The book shall be titled “The Devil of America Wants Me!” That voice gave birth to this book, I have the complete puzzle, I have the answer. This is my memoir, and also an inspiration from God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665512794

Chioma Afoke

Dr. CHIOMA AFOKE, a Doctor of Nursing Practice, and a Certified Family Nurse Practitioner with publications from CDC (Center for Disease Prevention and Control), Medical and Clinical Research. She is a Graduate of Rutgers, the State University of New Jersey. A member of the American Public Health Association (APHA), and other Medical and Nursing associations. Chioma is Married to Christian Afoke PhD, and they both have three beautiful children. The Author of one of the best revelational books “The Devil of America Wants Me” With an exceptional revelational knowledge of the word of God, she has come to the knowledge that, Knowing God is a Special gift that can only come from God alone. Jesus said, only the son knows the Father, and he (the son) reveals the Father to whoever he wills, (Mathew 11:27). Knowing the Father is about encounters, it is more physical than spiritual. It is seeing His presence manifest physically, it is touching His presence, and hearing His voice.

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© 2021 Chioma Afoke. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  01/12/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1280-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1278-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1279-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021900257

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

New King James Version (NKJV) Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

King James Version (KJV) Public Domain

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Conclusion

About the author

CHAPTER ONE

The Devil of America wants me!

I WAS BORN DIFFERENTLY, I WAS fashioned a certain way, with unique features and character.

I stayed in my mother’s womb almost one year. Normal babies stay in the womb for nine months on the average, but I guess I was not normal from the womb. After eleven months, I was forced out of my mother’s womb. When I came out, I was so sick and jaundiced. Recovered from it, and on my way home from the hospital, I was arrested.

Arrested by the police

Mama and I was on our way home from the hospital, being driven by daddy’s friend whom he sent to get us because he had to be at work. My father being a civil service employee had to work that day. He sent his friend to pick his wife up from the hospital, after the delivery of their tenth child. Yes, I am my parents’ tenth child.

My parent had many boys and my mother insisted on getting a second daughter. She had her first girl after her six boys, and in the process of trying for her a second daughter, she had three more boys before I came.

While returning home from the hospital, police at the check point discovered that the driver had some missing documents for his car, they decided to arrest the driver.

You see, in Nigeria, arrests are made differently. As a driver of a vehicle, once you are arrested for any traffic offense, you are taken to the police station including your car and everything in the car. This particular day, when the arrest was made, my mother and the newborn had to go as well. While we were there at the police station, my big brother came into the station, and I was told he beat up the policeman who arrested us, nothing became of that case, because the Divisional Police Officer (DPO) who is the top-ranking police officer in the area; on being alerted about the incident, dismissed the case and faulted the police officer for arresting a driver carrying a newborn.

Growing up

I remember being around my mother a lot, since I was her last baby. My mother took me to many of the church meetings she attended. God picked on me from the womb, he knew the battles ahead and he programmed me from the womb. Yes, I was chosen and sent forth from the womb.

I just remember that I treated myself differently, I didn’t do many things that other kids did. My mother had me monitored closely. She restricted my movements most times. She would not allow me to do many things that other kids did. I was not allowed to go moon chasing like other kids, lots of bad things happened during moon chasing, wayward children mingling with others and crazy things happening to them.

My mother from the beginning banned moon chasing. No body dared my mother. I watched her discipline my brothers, and I realized I wouldn’t want her to ever discipline me that way. She was like a tigress; just obey her instructions and you were fine.

I had many restrictions growing up and as a result of that, I had to follow her to numerous places. I wasn’t allowed to play outside with other kids when it was dark. Those were the best times to play, because kids from other neighboring communities would come around, and we would play different games. I thought she was too protective, and that’s why I wasn’t allowed to do some of the things other kids did. Now, I truly appreciate the fact that my mother was prepared by God to protect what she was given, a unique child.

Sacred Heart Catholic Church

This was the church we attended. My parents still do. Even at a very tender age, while attending benedictions on Sunday evenings, strange things would happen to me. Things I couldn’t explain and had no gut to ask anyone. My thoughts was that I wasn’t normal, and I wasn’t going to tell anyone the things that were happening to me, because I wasn’t sure what they would think of me.

During benedictions, when the priest would lift up the blessed sacrament, my hands would tingle with some warmth feelings rushing through my fingers and palms. These sensations grew stronger and stronger, and made me really uncomfortable.

The only thing was that, after the services, I would feel elevated in my heart, with a level of peace. Something was happening to me, but I had no one to explain to me what it was. At a point, I thought I had the devil who was trying to jump out of my body through my hands, and it made me even more uncomfortable, because I wouldn’t want anyone to notice what I was experiencing.

Then one Sunday, during morning mass, I was in the children’s church during an Easter Sunday; the priest raised the chalice, during communion benediction and my eyes opened to an image on it. The face of Jesus Christ as he was crucified on the cross. I closed my eyes, and opened it again, and he was still there. This time, I continued to look at the chalice until this face disappeared. I was just nine years old when this happened to me, and I remember the face very well because we had just finished the lent season. Still, I couldn’t speak to anyone about it, because I wasn’t sure what they would think of me? I didn’t know if I would be told that I had the devil in me. That used to scare me, because I remembered those who were told that they had the devil, would go through some process of deliverance, which also included going without food for some days, and attending retreats. I never liked anything about the devil, and still don’t.

CHAPTER TWO

Religious practices

M OTHER TOOK ME EVERYWHERE AND mostly church going. I grew up watching my mother leave very early in the morning for morning masses. My mother was very religious and at a very tender age, she taught us religion. She would wake us up as early as five in the morning to pray the rosary. Yes, it was our routine. Everyone in my house participated in early morning prayer which was mostly counting the rosary. Sometimes five decades, meaning just one rosary, but at nights we prayed fifteen decades, which was like counting the beads round three times, especially if we are making any special request to God through Mary.

The VOW

When I turned nine years, I and my mother visited a popular Holy Ghost Reverend Father, called Father Emmanuel Edeh. He is a Nigerian Roman Catholic priest of the Holy Ghost congregation.

He is the founder of a pilgrimage center called Eucharistic Adoration Center, in Elele, Rivers State of Nigeria. This Holy Ghost center is popularly known as Elele.

In those days, Elele was known to be the final terminal for any form of spiritual problems. That’s where almost everyone who had issues with evil attacks, sicknesses, infirmities, and any form of family or communal disputes went to seek, and to get help.

Elele was also known as a place where you go to meet with God, a place of encounters. Whenever you encounter God, there must be a change in your life. The part of the change people experienced in Elele was in the form of healing, family restorations and the end of evil attacks etc.

Elele has now progressed to become more like a religious congregation center with medical facilities, homes for the orphans, the sick, the disabled, and the mentally ill. They also run soup kitchens, schools, counseling and conflict resolution programs.

When I visited Elele with my mother, we went there for a spiritual encounter, because my mother was believing God for something I didn’t really know. I never really bothered to find out. I was engrossed with the encounters and my experiences; Elele was a spiritually charged atmosphere. How did I know this? because it felt different in that environment. It felt like God was closer, and it was a feeling one couldn’t really explain.

On one of those visits, I remember very well the reverend Father at Elele (Father Edeh) as he is popularly called, announcing for those who wanted to dedicate their lives to the service of God to come to the altar and make a vow to God for His service.

I told my mother that I would like to go forward; there was a big force inside of me that made me uncomfortable and was pulling me to that vow. When I told my mother, she told me to make sure that I knew what I was doing. She asked me questions before she allowed me to move forward. Nonetheless, when I got to the front of the altar, Father Elele told me that I was not making any mistakes and that God led me to the altar. Additionally, he blessed me with the others that came forward to make that vow.

Now, coming back home from Elele, my mother reminded me about the vow, and told me how important it relates to living a consecrated life, and she said I cannot live my life the way others lived. Although I didn’t really understand what it entails to live a consecrated live, I just resolved to be a good girl, meaning no telling lies, no stealing anyone’s food; those were the major offenses in our house.

You were not allowed to lie to my mother, and you were not allowed to steal food from your siblings’ plates. The level of atrocities that are seen today were not common in my community, or better off, I was not exposed to such.

That’s what growing up was like with my mother. She took me along to the many places she visited. My mum belonged to many religious societies within the Catholic Church, and I equally belonged to them too. Some of the societies included the guild of St Anthony and Legion of Mary. I was very active in these organizations even at a very young age. By the time I was a preteen, I was already leading the junior leagues.

The Marian Village

My elder brother Christopher was in his senior seminary, on his way to becoming a Roman Catholic priest. Suddenly, he decided he was leaving the seminary to a place dedicated to the service of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus. He announced his decision to my parents, that he was called to a deeper service where he would not interact much with the world.

My parents were divided on that matter, but my mother was in support of him to pursue a higher calling, which was what he called it.

When it was time, my brother Christopher left for the Marian village located in Adada within Nsukka of Enugu State Nigeria. Brother Christopher was there for about three months and returned to take all of our family to the Marian village. According to my brother, the man of God over that community received a mandate from heaven for everyone to go back and rescue all their families. The Marian village was supposedly the new Noah’s ark. He said what was coming ahead was going to befall people who were not in this community (the ark), just like the days of Noah.

We were so ignorant; we didn’t read the Bible for ourselves as Catholics. We lived by what we were told by the priests. Furthermore, catholic priests are so much revered and that’s why so many congregants fall victim to ignorance.

Nonetheless, when my brother gave this news to my parents, daddy said no one was going anywhere. One of my elder brother’s Godwin decided he would join brother Christopher in the pursuit of this higher calling. And they insisted my mother let them take me with them to help protect my future; I was the only angelic tender and innocent one around. My mother was able to convince my father to let me go with them. My bag was packed, and I left with my two brothers to the Marian village.

In this village (a gated community), you were assigned a room according to your age and gender. Males stayed in one side of the building, while the females stayed in another side of the building.

One common ground was the cafeteria and the worship center.

We had routines, starting with the early morning mass at 5:30AM. However, before the morning mass, you were expected to wake up from your bunk bed by 4:30AM, to wash up, brush your teeth and get dressed. Everyone was expected to be in the sanctuary before the holy mass. I never thought of what would have happened if you didn’t wake up to follow the routine. We just obeyed the rules.

Something was weird about this place. We lived like the monks; although the teenage girls once they turned eighteen years, were allowed to get married. They were allowed to get married, but not to any other man in this community. Marriage was only permitted to a man called Servus Maria, who was exalted as a man of God and he was the head of the community. Servus Maria lived in the underground section of the male building and had a different cook from the general cook, who made his meals. The personal service and the general upkeep of Servus Maria was applied differently from the rest of the community. Additionally, there was a section of the cafeteria, that was secluded from the general space, where no one was allowed to go into, except those who were attached to Servus Maria. Furthermore, those who went into that section with him were mostly a particular set of sisters and brothers.

Nevertheless, when the young girls become sixteen years, they move into a different wing allocated specifically for them, in order to start training to become married. They attended classes and went through ceremonial preparations. Once a girl was deemed ready, a marriage ceremony was performed in the sanctuary.

The marriage ceremony was not like the usual marriage ceremony.

Here the books of Songs of Solomon was recited by the young girl. The preparation involved learning to recite all the chapters of the songs of Solomon by heart.

While she recited the songs of Solomon, the one who stood in as her husband was the founder of the place, the man referred to as the man of God by name Servus Maria. He would respond to the songs being recited as if he was king Solomon; the Beloved. In other words, the teenage girl was the fairest among them all, to this man who is in turn her king Solomon.

After the ceremony in