My Transformation Story

In the name of truth, I must confess that my return to God happened in a way that I can only describe as extreme. How could it not be, when I plunged into a deep well of darkness and degeneration?

Ahh, those who knew me just over two years ago are still in a state of shock. Indeed, up till this moment some look at me with profound horror and disbelief; some look at me with skepticism, waiting for me to 'come back'; some look at me and just give thanks to God for my life.

Ahhhh... when I reminisce on the man I was just over two years ago, I give thanks to my immortal Father who remained committed to my soul even in my hour of folly. Hahah, an 'hour' that lasted 4 years.

I was one of those that one would call the 'life of the party'. If there was a party, I was there. If there were women, I was there. Humans are naturally narcissistic. We say we are in love but truly, we only like anything that reminds us of ourselves or our desires. I knew this very well and I deliberately tailored myself to be a reflection of the desires of different kinds of people.

My broken self esteem and degenerated sense of self worth needed much validation in order to exist. My miserable self needed men to envy me and wish to be like me; my miserable self needed women to lust after me and yearn for me. This was my primary motivation in life at that time and any and everything I did was primarily rooted in this.

This influenced my mad crave for money, this influenced the kinds of friends I had around me, this influenced the way I dressed, spoke, and acted. This influenced everything. I indeed became successful in this crusade of mine and became quite famous in the streets of Dubai; I became quite famous for miserable things.

'In the streets', as some would say, I was popularly known as 'Rookie baby'. The name came as a result of my 'Rico Suave' style and persona; it came as a result of my very seductive and promiscuous ways. Dubai is a very materialistic city, vanity and mammon is their God. For this reason I did whatever I could to earn money to be in the finest clothes, dine at the finest restaurants, be in the most exclusive circles and lavish parties.

I knew what people liked to see and I enjoyed inspiring envy in the hearts of people. Being a student of digital media and film production, I knew how to document things in a way that I would control the perception of people. I was one of those that one could call a 'snapchat king', posting up all my wild and lavish adventures at the time. I enjoyed receiving messages like "Rookie after you na you ohh".

I knew women loved a man that women loved so I did not hesitate to showcase the harem of women I had around me. I would always surround myself with women most guys wanted and most girls wanted to be like. I enjoyed making women question their self esteem around me because of the way I would snob them.

The women there are proud, especially those who are used to men falling at their feet. I knew that their pride could not stand the thought of rejection and they would do everything in their means to prove to me otherwise. I understood this pride in the women well and worked it to my advantage. I enjoyed using their own pride to manipulate them into sleeping with me.

I had become a demon in the most perfect sense of the word. I would sleep with people's wives and brag about it. I even once upon a time had a man reach out to me through a friend because his wife wanted to sleep with me. I did so happily for months, free of charge. Arrangements of such nature, as well as organized orgies are very common in the Arab world.

My miserable esteem was waxed with foolishness. My sense of world view had become warped, it was as though I had never encountered God in my life. The memories of transcendental encounters of God and miracles felt almost like a past life. I had become a shell of myself; I had become a shadow.

In the midst of all these things, the most predominant feeling I remember wasn't that of excitement but of deep sorrow and dissatisfaction. I was drowned in a constant feeling of deep anguish and pain, profound emptiness. I would sometimes burst into tears when I woke up in the morning, only to return to do the very things that created my sadness.

The beginning of return to God was as a result of a very toxic relationship that I began in 2018. Toxic because this was a woman who was exactly like me. She mirrored me in every way and my reflection was truly sinister. We were both very insecure people who hid their brokenness behind money and a false sense of pride. We brought out the worst in each other and dragged ourselves to hell.

Looking back, I see the necessity of that relationship. I needed to have plunged that deep, I needed to see a certain depth of darkness to know that what I really loved was the light. Like the prodigal son, I needed to eat the food of pigs to know that what I really loved was my Father's house.

My return was sudden. It was initiated by the dissolution of this said relationship. This happened in the month of June 2018. The moment the relationship ended I was very lost, very confused, very vulnerable. It was in that space that I heard the voice of my Father after such a long time, he said to me "My son, let us do it again". I said "How?", he then told me "If you want to reconnect, you will have to disconnect".

I partially shut off from people for a time and began reading my Bible again. I began listening to old teachings again to remind myself of who I was. I began going through my old notes to remind myself of who I was. This all happened within the space of two weeks. Gradually I felt strength return to me, I began to feel like myself again, I began to wake up.

It was at this moment God gave me my first strike. He said to me "Now, rise up and delete your beloved Snapchat and Instagram account". I was in horror, I was in disbelief. The thought of throwing away my very precious social media which I had taken much energy to build crippled me.

I told God "Father, I can't do this". He said to me "If you want to reconnect, you will have to disconnect". With pains I rose up and did as was told. I was frozen. I felt like life had just been stripped from me, I felt like I had just died. As if that was the end of it, he asked me to delete all the photos and videos of myself that I had on my phone.

At that time I had over 6,000 photos and videos of all my escapades. I loved showing them to people whenever I had the chance. I loved to be envied, I loved to be admired. My miserable self esteem needed all manners of validation in order to exist. The confidence and gusto that I portrayed to everyone around me was fraudulent, my confidence was a scam.

Deleting my images and videos shook me. I at the time did not know that God was achieving a work of deliverance upon me. I at the time did not know that pictures, videos, and songs that correspond to a particular epoch in a person's life, have the capacity to bring back to life dead or dormant natures within a person.

For this reason he also made me sanitize my playlist, the songs I listened to. In that period I battled intensely with pornography and masturbation and couldn't go a day without it. I was perpetually squandering my life force because I at the time did not know the deep relationship between the sexual waters within a person and the spirit of God.

By the end of July, one month in, I already began solidifying my resolve to return to God. He asked me to cut off from all my friends and disappear. I blocked so many people as though my life depended on it and hurt many 'friends' as a result of that. At this point I didn't care anymore, I had seen that life and knew the sorrows hidden behind the smiles. I was done with it.

By August of that same year, pornography was still a big issue. I would go maybe two weeks without it but still come back to it. In the time of each arousal God will keep silent and say nothing. By the time I would have finished masturbating he will then ask me "why do you think you fell today?".

He then began to teach me to see how the spirit of lust which frequently overpowered me in the hour of masturbation didn't begin in that moment. He began to teach me how it was connected to the conversations I had with people, the thoughts I entertained, the kind of media I let into my space. I at that time was a tv show junkie and most of the shows I watched had sexually explicit content. He certainly was right.

I then proceeded to cut off all forms of media. I disconnected from everything. I became a caveman in my house, even though I at the time shared an apartment with two friends. I thought deleting my social media was the end, I thought deleting my photos, videos and separating from friends was the end.

I thought wrong.

God came for my jugular. He came for my possessions. Prior to this moment I had filled my wardrobe with all manners of designer clothing, jewellery and perfumes. These were the final remnants of 'Rookie baby', souvenirs which I thought I would be able to keep.

At one point I was called 'the Versace don' because of how many Versace silk shirts I possessed. If it wasn't expensive, I won't wear it. My collection of shoes were almost stacked to the ceiling. I took much pride in these things and gave myself a mental pat on the back every night when I looked at all my possessions.

One morning, sometime in mid august, God woke me up and said "Call your friends, tell them to come and take what they like from your wardrobe. Give as much as they are willing to take". I shrieked, I froze, I said "God I cannot do this". He told me "If you want to reconnect, you will have to disconnect".

I mustered up courage, trembling, I gave a good show of faith by selecting two of my favorite Gucci loafers at the time and proceeded to give it to the security guard at my building. I was secretly hoping that an Abraham moment would happen and then God will have mercy and tell me 'keep the rest'.

I thought wrong.

He told me to go to my friend's house and invite all the boys who were there to come and take their pick. They were shocked, astounded, in disbelief, but secretly happy to raid my closet. In the evening when they came, I asked each person to take whatever they liked. One of my housemates at that time picked my very precious Hermes slippers, I loved those slippers. The moment I saw him pick the box, it dawned on me what was about to happen.

I instantly collapsed on my bed and began to cry. I began to cry. I began to cry. When my friends saw me crying they felt guilty, they wanted to return everything back. When I saw them about to do so, I remembered my father's words "If you want to reconnect, you will have to disconnect". In tears, I told them to continue. One of them then proceeded to take my very precious necklace, my Rookie baby necklace, my Roberto Cavalli necklace. I collapsed once more.

Haha, the rookie baby necklace.

For me it wasn't just clothes, it was a whole identity that was being stripped away. I was melting, I was dying. By the time I had cried and gotten tired of crying I finally gave into the moment. It was as if a deliverance had happened, it was as if a chain had been broken. I all of a sudden didn't care anymore.

After all the raiding, I still had a closet filled with clothes and about 6 pairs of shoes left. I told myself 'Ahh, surely God will spare me these'. I thought wrong. Five days later he told me to pack as many clothes that could fit into my luggage bag and go to the streets to give to anyone who would receive.

He told me to pick the cheapest pair of shoes among the shoes I had left and give away the rest. At this point I had already been broken, I was malleable, I did as instructed. I filled the bag and began giving Versace silks to laborers camped at the nearby mosque. I gave my precious gold watch to another security guard and he was almost in tears.

I went to the supermarket of my building and gave away my Amouage perfumes, my custom made Dolce and Gabbana perfume. I gave away my precious Louis Leeman shoes, my Gucci shoes, my Zanotti loafers. I am deliberately naming them because I want you to understand what all these things meant to me, every single piece of property was like a child I had. Psychologically, it felt as if I was giving away my children.

By the time I finished, I had only five shirts left and about twelve trousers because most of them were too big for the tiny indian laborers to fit in. Ahh, finally, God spared me these. I looked at my empty wardrobe, my one pair of Massimo Dutti shoes and my miserable zara slippers. I laughed and laughed and laughed at myself and said "God I am ready for you".

The moment I separated from my possessions, it was as though a thick cloud lifted from my eyes. My spiritual sight returned again, my hearing returned again, my understanding began to open again. Now, the problem was not the properties I had, the problem was my attachment to the properties, my slavery to those properties. That was why they had to go.

I thought to myself 'Ohh, as I have done this maybe God will give me plenty money now". Hahah, that season was the poorest I had been in a long time. For the first time in my life I had to enter into a bus to commute from place to place. I remembered the sheer terror and shame the first time I alighted a bus. I was so afraid that someone would see me and laugh at me. I was brought face to face with my poor self esteem and all my fears.

Everything I wished not to happen to me happened. All my fears materialized before my eyes and God asked me to sit through it all. It was in that period that I began to remember myself, I began to remember 'El Shakar', I began to remember the son of God.

I was subjected to 15 hours of daily study for months. I was subjected to fasts for days without food or water. I was broken to pieces. Everything about who I was was torn to pieces. Better said, everything about who I thought I was was torn to pieces. It was in that place of brokenness, of emptiness, that my Father began to rebuild me again; uplift me again. It was in that place he began to teach me again.

He said to me "It is time to be introduced once more to the spiritual church of Christ". He reconnected me with my immortal brothers and sisters in the heavens, they took me back in like I never left. They cleaned me, schooled me, and began teaching me all that I needed to know for the assignment that was given to me.

All this happened between the space of four months. The rest, as they say, is history....