SamodiTari

Why do most Christian struggle

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What’s one habit you’re trying to break quietly?

The night I heard my mother in-law whisper my name while I was asleep, I knew I might not leave that house alive.

My name is Esther. I’m from Delta State, Nigeria. I’m a Christian, born and raised. I married my husband, Daniel Okafor, three years ago. He is calm, kind, and deeply loyal to his family. Especially his mother, Mama Rose.
Mama Rose was known in church. She led women prayers. She fasted a lot. People called her “Mama Fire.” If she prayed for you, everyone believed your problem was solved.
When Daniel said we would stay in his family house for some time after our wedding, I agreed. I wanted peace. I wanted to be a good wife.
At first, Mama Rose treated me well. She hugged me in front of people. She prayed for me loudly. But when we were alone, she watched me too closely. Her eyes would follow me. Sometimes she smiled without warmth.
The first strange thing happened during my second week in the house.
She called me into her room and said she wanted to pray for me as her daughter. She locked the door. I knelt. She placed her hands on my head.
Her prayer was quiet. Too quiet.
My heart started beating fast. My hands shook. I felt cold, like harmattan inside my body. I wanted to stand up but I couldn’t move.
When she finished, she smiled and said, “Go and rest.”
That night, I dreamed I was buried alive.
I woke up screaming.
After that, my life changed slowly, like something was draining out of me.
I started feeling weak. I would sleep and wake up tired. My stomach hurt often. My monthly flow stopped. My hair fell in chunks when I combed it.
Mama Rose noticed everything.
She would say, “Esther, you are not looking fine.” Or, “Marriage is not for weak women.”
She cooked food for me often. Each time I ate it, I would throw up or have sharp stomach pain. When I cooked for myself, I was fine.
When I stopped eating her food, she called me ungrateful.
Daniel defended her.
“She means well,” he said. “You know my mother loves prayer.”
Then the dreams became worse.
I saw Mama Rose in my dreams, standing at the door, calling my name. Sometimes she was holding a bowl. Sometimes she was smiling. In every dream, I couldn’t speak.
One night, I woke up and heard someone praying outside our door. I recognized the voice.
Mama Rose.
I lay still. The prayer sounded calm, but my body felt heavy. My chest hurt. I couldn’t move until the prayer stopped.
The next morning, I told Daniel.
He laughed it off.
“You are imagining things,” he said.
The breaking point came when I found something under our bed.
I was sweeping when I saw a small bundle wrapped in black cloth and tied with red thread. My heart dropped. I opened it with shaking hands.
Inside was a paper with my full name. Esther Okafor.
There was also hair inside it.
My hair.
I screamed.
Daniel rushed in. He froze when he saw it but still said maybe someone was trying to frame his mother.
That same day, I went to my pastor, Pastor John Efe. He didn’t speak for a long time after seeing it.
He only said, “Move out.”
That night, Mama Rose insisted on praying for me again. She said I was acting strange and needed deliverance.
I was tired. I didn’t have strength to argue.
She held my head tightly. Her nails dug into my scalp. Her prayer started normal, then her words changed. They became fast and sharp.
My ears rang. My body shook. I fell to the floor and screamed. I don’t remember everything I said, but I remember her stepping back.
For the first time, she looked afraid.
People rushed in.
Two weeks later, Daniel agreed we should leave.
After we moved, my health slowly came back. My sleep returned. The dreams stopped.
Mama Rose still goes to church. She still prays for people. She still smiles.
But she has never asked to pray for me again.
And till today, when someone prays too quietly behind me, my heart races.

My Mother in-Law Prayed for Me. That’s When the Nightmares Started.




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When did you realize that praying everyday works better than complaining everyday? 🤔

Life doesn’t change overnight.
But every day you don’t give up, something in you is building.

Happy Sunday fam ❤️