I used to be an extremely slow learner from childhood. In fact, I couldn’t recite the 26 alphabet completely at the age of 10, let alone recognise 2 or 3-letter words at that age.
My nursery and primary education were filled with torture, tears, and isolation. On all my report sheets was written “Promotion on trial,” and when it was time to sit for First School Leaving Exams (i.e., Primary 6 exams), I was exempted. The school gave me a testimonial instead, which comprised all the subjects I had been taught and my abilities in other areas, like sports and adventure.
I used to blame some health issues I had suffered from infancy, because my mother used to tell me how she visited a particular hospital with me regularly due to incessant illness. She couldn’t explain what it was, but it wasn’t sickle cell. This went on for almost all the first five years of my life.
A background Story
My birth was welcomed with a lot of joy from my father, as he had told my mother prophetically that what was growing in her was his second son. I don’t think my mother went to check the sex of any of her children before birth. He sounded so sure, according to my mum. Before that time, he had pleaded with God that he wanted four children—two boys and two girls. So when I arrived, he took two months’ leave from work. That was unusual. He couldn’t contain his excitement for a very long time, even when he already had a son and a daughter.
But all that changed when my academic issues began. He tried to teach me many times, usually with disgust and frustration. It would often end with him inflicting wounds on me, throwing me across the parlour, hitting my body against a centre table, a fridge, etc. This feat of fury doubled, especially when I defaulted in doing house chores. Also, I had seen my mother many times express pain, tearfully, at my predicament.
Despite this shortcoming, I was enrolled in a very good school to commence J.S.S. 1 after much pleading, because I didn’t have a certificate from Primary 6. The problem remained until it was time to sit for Junior WAEC. Unfortunately, I wasn’t registered because of the same issue. So, I went back home crying and refused food.
All along, my parents had been praying relentlessly and tried to do some special things for me, like getting gifts when no occasion called for it, especially my mother. She had sensed that my father was selective when he bought gifts for the four of us. There was a time he wanted to get a new set of Good News Bibles for us. He told my mum there was no need to get one for me. But she insisted, saying that at least I could be looking at the drawings/pictures.
I was very excited when mine was handed to me. But in no time, my mental pain worsened. When my parents were too tired to punish any of my siblings corporally—especially in the evenings after returning from work—they’d tell them to kneel and read certain long portions of their Bibles until they slept off. I used to watch from an opening in their door and hear my brother or sister reading. It used to be very painful. So many nights, I slept with tears and woke up weak.
My Deliverance
My deliverance came through my elder brother as I got into S.S.1. We would sit under a shade after school, and he would read very good and captivating novels aloud to me. He’d pause in between pages and explain what he had read to me. Then we’d laugh aloud together. After some time, I started memorising words even when I didn’t understand their meanings. God made me learn very fast through this technique. This activity continued until he sat for WAEC and became busy preparing for JAMB.
By this time, I had memorised many words and tried to construct sentences with them. He read aloud many times and for long hours, until I started reading his novels, to my parents’ amazement. I was about 18 when I started reading and understanding what I read. Though I was still quite slow, as the words I saw in books seemed to be far apart in my head.
In my early twenties, I started living with my brother, who was almost finishing tertiary education at the time. He was on scholarship and used his money to buy lots of novels and even paid me to read and analyse them at different times. At that time, I was teaching in a primary school and had come across children between the ages of 7–14 who were like me. I had completely forgotten that part of my past, so I treated them badly. I made them cry anytime they tried to frustrate me. But they just seemed to like me for no obvious reason.
In recent years, before I came to GLH, I had jobs that required reading certain materials for very long hours and sitting for exams for people who paid me in pounds. When I started attending meetings randomly, I told my sub-shepherd about the job, and he rebuked me for cheating. I was angry that he didn’t applaud it. But I have realised that God didn’t make me start reading at such a time in my life for the wrong reasons.
I have also met people during evangelism who can’t read, and I’m amazed. Within me, I’ll ask God, “Why can’t they read? Why do I always meet with these kinds of people?” I usually don’t wait for answers. I just help them read and explain things as the Holy Spirit gives me understanding.
I’m thanking God for delivering me from the inability to read and understand, and also for the opportunities to help children who had similar challenges like mine. God has been good to me—and to my brain. May God be praised.
© GAM 2025
