There is bizarre stillness around me, one so calm that I wonder what changed. My dreams are always garnished with several footsteps and hush voices. Some distant music occasionally infringes my calm and swift snores.
I realize that my bed is raised. I realize that there is a paper bag on my bed, I quickly shove it to the floor and continue to enjoy the tranquillity in this bizarre place while it lasts.
I wake up early in the morning and I realize that I am in a hospital ward in the neighbouring country of Tanzania. I wake up and my mother’s ketchup red eyes painted from an intense melancholy are looking at me. In the most humble voice, she tells me, “Son, you fainted yesterday, and you were fainting all night. You are in a hospital in Tanzania.”
We were playing with my younger brother the previous evening. We were going round in circles. The feeling was ecstatic and the euphoria was like a junkie’s indulgence after quite a period of lack. I remember closing my eyes so that I would feel the earth’s circulation engulf me.
I felt the world dimming from my consciousness. It was pulling itself away from me. I felt like I was in space, sinking into the oblivion. I was being sucked into a world of emptiness and panic groped me like those villains in horror movies. I was losing control, I was helpless. I sat down and a loud squeaking voice started ringing in my ear like a someone pushing a rake off a tiled floor.
The last fading voice that rang in my ears was that of my brother’s asking me, “Are you okay?” It was when I realized that the euphoria had turned into a nightmare. I ran towards the house where my mum and her brothers were having a tete a tete. Horror engulfed her, panic was the last thing I could see in her eyes.
As my mom reached forth kneeling to inquire what was wrong with me, I hugged her.
That was the warmest hug I had given my mum and anyone else in my entire life. I never knew how hugs truly felt. This is because maybe in Maasai culture, young uncircumcised lads bow their heads to their mums for them to tap.
This hug was different, it was warm. I felt protected. As the world faded from my consciousness, I held her shoulders tight. I felt weak but protected. I passed out on her shoulders.
The Struggle Continued
I was in class 8 when I first had my first seizure and doctors could not diagnose what the issue was. The first seizure changed my life.
There grew immense fear in my life. I was very fearful of my surrounding. I feared having another attack. I feared being alone. I feared doing anything alone lest I faint.
In high school, I was still having those seizures. My mother was a primary school teacher and couldn’t afford taking me to an expensive hospital for diagnosis. I used to go to the nearest government hospital where I would get painkillers and get back to school.
In Form Three third term, I finally saw a neurologist and wires were put round my head – they called that EEG. I was diagnosed of partial seizures on the right frontal lobe of my brain – whatever that meant.
I think the hardest time in my life was when I joined campus. The seizures increased to a point where I wished death upon myself. I would get frequent seizures that not only made me so fearful about my life but also question why I was in this world in the first place.
I would faint in my one roomed house late in the wee. I remember pleading with the devil to spare my life because the God I was praying to had turned a deaf ear. I remember I was so devastated, broken down and just wished to die.
I remembered of a time when I woke up on a cold floor. A neighbour had found me lying on the corridor on her way to the loo. I had felt the aura of fainting and decided to open my door to awake at least one neighbour but I fell on the floor.
The feeling I got after fainting was pathetic. I had crazy headaches, there was intense fear and I was literally reduced to a cabbage. I had this amnesia which took me days to recuperate. I couldn’t remember who I was, where I am or who the person next to me was.
I stayed for quite a while without a job after campus. Being jobless and sick at the same time to the point of not being able to work is the worst thing that can happen to a man in a society which has got so many expectations of him. It is a nightmare. It means that you cannot board a matatu nor cross the street without worrying of fainting.
It means you cannot even date because nobody would want a dying man who gets seizures in front of the kids. You become a villain to your own creation, a liability. You become chaff, you become disabled. Yes, some told me to go get a disability certificate.
The stigma is even crazier. The society keeps asking you who you wronged, what your parents did etc. Some staunch Christians kept reminding me that curses go up to the fourth generation and I should pray hard. I went to prayer mountains, I prayed, I fasted, people prayed for me to no avail.
I questioned religion – the best move I made in life. I wondered why the elite in the Word of God would tell me it is God’s plan. I asked them why we served such a barbaric God. I mean, He says He is wonderful with mercies fresh every morning. He calls Himself a friend, a brother and He knew me before I was born. I remember asking Him, “God, do you delight in my suffering? Does it please you this much?”
I saw numerous neurologists and upon doing another scan, my EEG report showed that I had no seizures. But I was still fainting. I was put on several medications that slowed my body down. Those medications had crazy side effects and withdrawal effects that made my life a nightmare. I forgot most things, my genius mind was now a cabbage.
The drugs I was on had steroids so I put on weight, lots of them. I slept a lot and was always tired. The neurologist said he couldn’t see me no more because nothing was physically wrong with me. He recommended that I should see a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed with lots of ailments like schizophrenia, depression, anxiety and schizoaffective disorder.
I saw psychotherapists who never had anything substantive on my ailment. It reached a moment when nothing was working and they were thinking of formatting my brain. A way to reset me to factory settings. I was tired, I contemplated suicide. Knowing that I will never have a family of my own, will never drive my car nor enjoy life, death was the easy way for me.
I smashed all my medical pills and put in some water. I think I had over 300 tablets. I was tired, I wanted to live no more but my spirit was hesitant and vehemently told me I have a great purpose in this life.
I drunk the concoction and slept.
I woke up the following day as usual. I cried to see myself alive. I thought I would be in heaven with the angelic hosts or in hell burning. I thought that would be better than the current life I had. I knew God to be a barbaric dictator who hated those who killed themselves. I was at the edge of life.
I was not taking alcohol. Not because the doctor told me not to but because that was a decision I made. I was not a ladies guy. Most of the time I was serving in Church and doing interesting projects. My life was miserable and painful.
Religion taught me to flee from sin and everything will fall into place. It taught me that the reason I was fainting was because of my sin. I was taught to be perfect so that the devil may not get near me. I was taught that God will save me if and only if I am perfect.
I used to ask God why He was so barbaric. I would ask Him why He would make me have seizures (because some pastors told me it was God’s plan) despite me working so hard in his kingdom. I got tired of this God. I said I was willing to worship anyone who healed me, even if it were the devil himself.
I remember asking a friend, a leader in some youth group I used to attend if he knew someone who got healed of a condition like mine. He linked me up to a certain lady who talked to me for hours on the very first day I was introduced to her.
This lady started by narrating to me her life story. She told me how she struggled with severe seizures as a young child to a point that I felt that my condition was just a pinch of salt. That never bewildered me. What bewildered me was how calm and composed she took my situation. To her, it was just another small thing, a non issue.
Most people I talked to about my situation sympathized with me, told me that God is in control and affirmed that they will pray for me. The lady talked of her healing journey and spoke of some words that sounded so deep to be reckoned by a religious mind like mine.
She talked of God as some friend she lives with. The passion she talked about Him made me feel that surely her God was different from mine. She talked of words that pierced my spirit. These were not just the punchlines that I was used to during sermons, she talked words of life, words from God Himself.
I felt amazing and wanted to know this God of her’s. I wanted her to show me how because I was willing to do anything to be well. Many times I asked God to take away everything I had if that’s what He wanted to heal me. I was willing to start afresh with zero education, orphaned, with no food and in severe poverty as long as I had good health.
I remember telling God that maybe we can trade, that He takes away my feet leaving me totally disabled and He gets the horrifying seizures off my life.
I cherished death. I would hear murders on Tv and ask myself, “God why not me? Why that innocent child and not me?” I never for once feared death. I would pray that I get into a catastrophe where I would just die. No soul has ever known about until today. I am sharing this not because it is another fancy story but to let you know the workings of the Spirit of God.
I cherished the life of beggars and street children. Even in their murk, I would still how amazing their lives were because all the trouble they had was rummaging for food, cold nights and rainy days. I wanted to be like one of them, at least they were healthy. At least they never had such dark days like mine.
When I met this lady, I assured myself this, “If the Lord she serves can do that for her, then for sure He can do it for me.”
I remember towards the culmination of our talk she said something that struck me. She said, “I will arrange a meeting with the prophet.”
You see from the religious side of things, we are taught that most if not all prophets are false. We are taught that the only prophets that lived were before Jesus’ time. Some say Jesus was the last prophet and others say that Paul was the last. In the past I had gotten so desperate and I had visited some ‘prophets’ and nothing came to fruition.
Upon hearing that I was to see another prophet, I was taken aback but I affirmed to myself that this lady got healed so whichever the way, I must also taste healing and give a testimony of it one day. This is the day.
The last time I was in Westlands was maybe when I had one of my photography gigs. I never thought I would be there again. Westlands was to me a posh place with high-end offices and where the rich hanged out.
The office was posh, rich ambient light illuminated the rooms. All was quiet except the noise of roaring engines and the whistling of horns outside. I looked like an ant that lost its trail home but I tried to look composed and calm.
It was my turn to enter though there was no queue. I was greeted by a humble short man who was all smily. I kept wondering why this man was all smiling. He looked unbothered. His joy took all over him. You know in all the religious places I have visited, the man of God always looked stern, maybe a way to show God doesn’t really joke around.
I was confused, I had crazy expectations. I thought maybe this man will tell me all my sins and will tell me to repent for the kingdom of God is neigh. I thought maybe he will hypnotize me and take away everything I had. I thought maybe he will touch me and I will start rolling on the floor like a snake. I was ready for anything. I had nothing to lose except the sickness in me.
He striked a conversation we got to know each other. He asked me about my family. I told him that we are only two, my sister and I. He told me that he could see I had another sister. I was bewildered. He told me to forget it and we should go to the main agenda. Yes, I have a step sister.
I told him of my sickness. He never wanted me to go to the details. I found it rude why he never wanted to hear me out. He asked if he could pray with me. He told me to take out my hand in which he held and made a very casual prayer.
He told me it was done. He said that I should believe that I am healed and I should come for the prayer service they had on Wednesday and their fellowship on Friday. He saw me off.
I was like, is that it? A simple prayer? Just like that. I was wondering what kind of a prophet he was? Such a casual man is a prophet? Yes, he saw my sister but why didn’t he tell me where my seizures came from?
Many people own things that do not benefit them. They own things that are of the devil, they own things orchestrated from hell and that’s why they say things like, my depression, my migraines, my headaches, my anger etc. Every time they say that they affirm and stamp that in their lives and it follows them forever.
I expected the prophet to touch me and I roll on the floor. That would be a stamp that I was healed. I expected something dramatic, something like what we see prophets do on Tv. I never quit though, I held onto the testimony of the lady who brought me to him.
I attended prayers on Wednesday. It was actually a service where we were taught how to pray. How to commune with God, how to speak in other tongues (which I was already doing) and just pray from the bosom of your heart. I remember kneeling down and asking God to heal me. To give me perfect health.
I remember prophet came close to me and told me that the Spirit of God says everything is gonna be alright. I kept telling him about this fear but he shun me out. I still wondered why this person doesn’t hear me out. I came to realize later that he was running away from negativity and reason. That was not his realm.
I meet a friend in the fellowship who helped me grow in this new faith. The people in this fellowship were always smiling. They were confident and you could tell their smiles were genuine. I was welcomed with love and joy just like a new-born baby. They treated the prophet with outmost respect and I was like, “Well, now they will worship man.”
The Last Kicks Of A Dying Horse
The seizures intensified. They became crazier. They amplified and fear grew in me. I wondered why this prophet was such a big liar. I had his number so I would call him whenever they happened. He would still tell me I am not sick. He would tell me that I am well and I am healed.
I wondered what sort of nonsense was that but I remembered that it was 14 years of trouble so I should continue seeking. He told me that the fact that I had seizures doesn’t mean I am unwell. He told me that Jesus said that I am well, I am healed by the blood and anything contrary from that is a big lie. In fact, it is from hell.
I kept believing but when those auras would come, I would forget everything and call the prophet and ask him why they are coming. He never got tired of me. He told me that the devil must contend because he is losing a battle and I must be focused and meditate on what the word says about me.
I had seen and heard so many instances of people who got instant healing and I was wondering why this prophet could not heal me instantly. I got several seizures and called him again. He sent me a YouTube link to a song and told me to keep listening to the song and whenever I get those auras I should listen and meditate on the song.
The song was titled Holy Spirit. I first thought the song was done by Hillsong as it sounded international. I would listen to the song whenever I had those auras but my mind would remind me that that was just a stupid thing to do.
90% of the time I felt like quitting but my spirit would not let me. I braced on though the seizures became crazier.
May 3rd 2020 was the worst day of my life. I had nine seizures. They started at 3 am in the morning. I had two of them from 3 am – 5 am. I was alone in the house. I called my brother who came in at around 8. I had hurt myself badly from the edges of my coffee table as I got two more in my living room before he came.
My mouth was full of blood. I told my brother not to tell any of my family members and that I was not going to hospital. I decided that I would become radical. I lay on the couch getting seizure after seizure. I found myself in an ambulance at around 7pm.
I was taken to hospital and was admitted to the HDU. I was admitted for two weeks. I was used to this, the previous year I was admitted seven times in different hospitals for up to three weeks. Hospital was my other home and the funny thing is that I have never for once had a seizure in a hospital.
I got discharged and I continued going for fellowship. My faith had grown greatly. A friend from the fellowship recently told me that greatness is bred in the wilderness. I had made it a do or die affair and I kept reminding God that because He did it for that lady, He will do it for me as well.
The whole fellowship thing was new to me. They mostly talked about things like the resurrection power and the mercy and glory of God. They spoke of very simple but very profound things. This was no longer about punchlines and writing sermons but rather getting submerged in God’s love.
People got prophesied to and things came to pass. I saw people getting free houses, free cars and even having their weddings paid in full with my own eyes. I have seen prophecies made about our nation coming to pass.
This is when I realized that there is no level of Satanism or even religion that can ever do this. My whole definition of a prophet and the prophetic ministry changed. When I was in religion, I knew the Bible inside out. I knew the verses, the chapters, the stories and the books all at my finger tips.
When I joined this fellowship, I not only knew the scripture but I got revelation from it and applied it to my life. It was more of what is God saying about me rather than just us. My relationship with God moved from we to me. I understood the office of the prophet and why we honor them.
I knew about partnering with God’s true ministry and for once ALL areas of my life boomed. My health, my finances, my relationships, my character etc. And the most important thing is that I found my purpose in life. I was introduced to Zoe Fellowship led by Prophet Elvis Mbonye from and my life drastically changed.
This was a popular blog with immense views but what food was I giving my audience? How did Willy Paul and Bahati not being Christians help the masses? How did the popular post of ‘Groove Awards and the Spirit of Secularism’ build Christ’s bride, the Church?
Religion puts you in a cage. Religion enslaves you. Religion redefines everything that is spoken from God’s mouth to suit its need. A friend of mine from the fellowship (which actually is called Limitless Fellowship) recently told me, what was revelation before has now been turned into religion.
Moses made a snake for the Israelites to see and get healed, that was the revelation then but can it be used today? Religion tries to decrypt revelation instead of seeking fresh revelation from God which is only revealed in the prophetic.
Religion is from the pits of hell. I say that with no doubt. Religion is basically a set of rules and formulas to worship God based on what people with the revelation of their time did. This is why this blog generally fights religion, that is a purpose I got about the direction of this blog from the spirit. Now you know why the shift.
The most important thing anyone has ever told me was said by my friend King David who has really guided me in this journey. He recently said to me, “Now I can see why the devil worked so hard to kill you. Man you are great, I adore you.” I meditate on this daily. I know that she had not seen nor has any ear heard what the Lord is going to do with me.
I really honor Prophet Ronie Kabwama, the leader of Limitless Worship and my father. I accord honor upon honor on him because he is a true prophet of God who has helped me grow so much in the spirit. A man who has made me love life. A man who has made me know that God heals and loves me so much and anything or anyone who contradicts that is not of God.
He is a man who has prophesied a lot about my life – and they have come to pass. He is a man who never gotten tired of my religious self and has constantly guided me to the light. It is a year plus since I had my last seizure and no one can explain how I drive my own car today actually buying it just 4 months from when I had my craziest seizure.
Who said some things are impossible? Well, that could only be the devil. Today, I speak with God like a close friend. I see things, I yearn for more and I am going deeper and deeper. I am surely not of this world. We say nothing is impossible.
Prophet Ronie is the one who actually sang the song Holy Spirit – the song which continuously blesses my soul. Know what? I grew to be the pianist of the band – talk of taking the grace and running away with it, yes that’s me because I am destined for greatness.
We are releasing our album soon and our first single Taken Over will launch on 6th June 2021. Why don’t you head to our YouTube Channel and subscribe?
Guys, I am the guy who wished to be a beggar or disabled so long as I have health. I was the guy who cherished death but now I have it all, health, wealth, joy, love etc. I am the Son of God. I am highly esteemed by my father. He looks at me and smiles, no man, no thing can ever make Him think otherwise of me. I am an overcomer!
This testimony is not mine but His. It is not to glorify me but Him. Aren’t you tired of serving a dead God, a God painted by religion as a barbaric dictator who awaits your mistakes so that He can punish you?
I have lots of articles on this blog will lead you to the light. The true God. Why don’t you start with this one – What is Religion?