Keep an open mind as you read this because this is just one side of the story. A lady named Ese Walter is accusing a pastor with the Common Wealth Of Zion Assembly of manipulating her sexually/spiritually. I'm hoping to get the pastor's side of the story later...that's if he's willing to talk. Read Ese's story, which she shared on her blog, below...
This article contains stories
that most ‘church people’ don’t want to address.
I want to talk about something I
have kept bottled up inside for longer than necessary. I have also decided to
use real names, as my defense for any accusation of slander is justification. I
tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. However, feel free to throw
your doubt around but know that I am past the shaming game (where victims of
abuse are shot down by blame) I am no longer a victim but a survivor who is
sharing her experience to help others caught in same web of abuse, guilt and
shame. We only get to live once right? So here, it goes…
I recently came to know this
event too was abuse (recently here means about 6 months ago). It has literally
been eating me up having to drive by another billboard advertising preachers,
or hearing his name, or even trying to ask about the validity of the entire
salvation story and whether or not there is a God that truly watches over his
people. That being said, I’m just going to say it as it is. This is a recap of
my affair with Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo of COZA (Common Wealth Of Zion Assembly)
Abuja chapter. This affair I have come to know as a form of abuse as you would
see the different elements of abuse very present.
I met Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo
many years ago. I was getting bored of the church I was attending and someone
suggested COZA. At the time, I had never heard about it. My friend said, go
there, I’m sure you would enjoy the word. But he also gave me a strong warning.
He said he would advice that I remain a member only and not join the workforce.
I agreed. The first time I attended COZA, I felt it was my church and decided I
was going to plant my ass there. About eleven months had gone by and I was
still attending the services quietly and faithfully. I really did like the
church. One day a worker in the church approached me that the senior pastor
wanted to see me.
Me? I thought. Why would the
senior pastor want to see me? Not the second man but the head nigga in charge?
Ok na! I started to think my sin was oozing so bad the pastor could tell I
needed Jesus. (Poor old me.) I saw him at the end of the second service (they
had two services at the time) and he said to me that he would like me to work
with him. I knew I had no intentions of becoming a pastor so I had to ask in
what capacity. He said he’d like for me to join a department, preferably the
Pastoral Care Unit (PCU).
A few weeks later, against my
friend’s advice not to join the workforce, I was a PCU member. All of a sudden,
I had some status in church. I was ‘somebody.’ Dress had to be on point, hair,
shoes and what not… As workers, we were literally trying to outshine each other
or so it seemed. Anyways, I felt like I was a privileged member of an elite
circle. Hehehe. (It did feel good though, for the most part.)
About a year after joining the
workforce, I was on my way to London for a Masters degree program that would
last two years. As was the rule for workers travelling, I wrote to say I would
be away for 2 years and Pastor Biodun Fotoyinbo asked that I keep in touch by
sending him my number and email when I had settled in London so he “makes sure
I continue in the faith” because according to him, people loose their faith
when they leave home and he wanted to make sure I didn’t. So, on that note, as
soon as I got a phone line in London, I was sure to call ‘my pastor’ to say I
arrived safe, had settled in and also gave my phone number.
We had spoken a few times
especially when COZA started to stream online. I always watched and would give
feedback on quality of production and share a little bit on the challenges I
faced settling in a new land. One evening, Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo called me
that he was coming to London and needed me to help him make some hotel bookings
as the person who was meant to do it couldn’t get it done (this was rather
strange as I had never been involved in his travel itinerary) Later that day,
he said it had been sorted and my help would not be required but that he would
like me to arrange a cab to pick him up from Heathrow. I was happy to help my
pastor from Nigeria and even saw it as a privilege. (I would later come to
learn that all of this was a calculated attempt to hatch a plan that I suspect
was set in motion when I was asked to join the workforce.)
The cab guy was there to get him
the next day and when he arrived, he called to ask why I didn’t accompany the
cab to pick him up (again, this was strange but I stopped my mind from
overanalyzing the situation as I knew I had no business with his visit to
London) About two hours later, he called me and said he would like to see me.
When I arrived his hotel, I called from the reception but he asked that I come
upstairs. I got to the room and tried to stop my mind from thinking why I was
going to his room. As he opened the door and invited me in, I had to speak to
my heart to stop its palpitations. My better judgment asked me not to go into
the room but the kind of reverence I had for Pasotr Biodun Fatoyinbo bordered
on fear and I steeped into that room.
“Care for a drink?” Asked Pastor
Biodun Fatoyinbo.
“No sir,” I said.
“You don’t have to be shy Ese,
even if it’s alcohol, feel free and order what you want.” I wasn’t sure I heard
my pastor asking me to order alcohol. I imagined it was a test and ignored the
voice inside that was saying, “I’d have henny and coke please.” He proceeded to
ask how I had been coping in London and if I was a committed member of any
church. He also said he thought there was something special about me and wanted
to know that I had not strayed from my faith. I really thought he had heard I
was doing something I shouldn’t while in London but tried my best to focus on
the conversation instead of my straying thoughts. He kept telling me to relax
and feel comfortable with talking to him. After a few minutes, he asked that we
go to the roof of the hotel as his room was a pent suite and had a connecting
door to the roof.
While there, he sat on a
reclining chair and asked me to come sit on his laps. This was a bit awkward
for me and I froze for a moment as I asked why. He said he had told me to feel
free with him and loosen up. I found myself strolling to sit on his laps. At
that moment, I felt like a little girl who was experiencing something her mind
couldn’t fathom. He asked me to kiss him and all I could think about was seeing
him preach on the pulpit back in COZA Abuja, Nigeria, which was my home church.
He again said ‘feel free Ese.’ And asked again, that I kiss him.
A few hours later, let’s just
say, we were rolling under the sheets. It felt as though my mind had paused. I
am not saying I was jazzed, (although it’s possible I was in some trancelike
state and didn’t know it but I just was so afraid that I couldn’t say or think
otherwise.) That was the beginning of this affair. A sexual affair that went on
for a little over a week, DAILY!
I can hear somebody’s mind
thinking, ‘well, you weren’t raped.” And I remember a pastor I opened up to
when I couldn’t take all the mind games asking if I seduced him. No, I didn’t
seduce him and no, I wasn’t raped but I felt trapped in this affair. Come to
think of it, how could I have seduced him when I wanted nothing from him? I
mean, I was too busy minding my business in London trying to get through with
my masters program and I was overly comfortable. And even if I wanted to seduce
anyone, it wouldn’t be a married man, not to mention a married pastor.
What I couldn’t reconcile the
whole time, was how the same person who preached against the very things we
were doing (i.e drinking in pubs, fornicating, committing adultery) was the
same person endorsing and encouraging it.
At some point, I got really
confused about what Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo and I were doing that I had to ask
how he handles it. I will never forget what he said to me. He said and I quote,
“I will teach you a level of grace that you don’t understand.” My mind couldn’t
fathom that somehow grace was enough covering for not just fornication on my
path, adultery on his path and the many lies that was bound to follow what we
were doing that was clearly abominable. I somehow dealt with the thoughts and
fears that followed on my path. He had said to me that he wanted me to be his
girlfriend and he would take me around the world and spoil me with money and
things. Somehow, money had never been one of the things that motivated me (I am
from a home where all my needs have been adequately met) In all my ‘badness’
through finding myself, I never did things I did for money but more of
rebellion against rules and authority.
Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo also said
to me that he had a dream where I exposed what was happening to the media. Said
it was all over the place and that people were calling me the girl that caused
chaos in COZA. He also said I should remember the bible said to “touch not
God’s anointed.” I immediately started to rebuke the devil and said I could
never do anything like that. I was almost swearing with my entire family as I
thought really I had touched God’s anointed by submitting my body to be used.
Little did I know at the time that all of these were ways to mess with my mind
and even manipulate my thoughts.
Fast-forward a few months later,
I was back in Nigeria and my church had become uncomfortable. Anytime I sat in
church and listened to Pastor Biodun preach, I felt shame. I finally sent him a
message saying I wasn’t comfortable anymore. I was confused and needed to talk
about what had happened. He said I should meet him to talk and I did. It was a
really weird meeting for me especially when he tried to kiss me at our meeting.
I finally realized at this point that he couldn’t help me. I thought God was
angry with me and I couldn’t pray so I decided to withdraw completely from
COZA. This was the beginning of my mental torture. I couldn’t talk to my family
because already, I was the only one attending a different church and somehow my
mom never liked the idea. As the days went by I tried to use drinking and
smoking to cover up the deep shame and guilt I was battling with. But as soon
as the high was over, the thoughts came back and I felt stuck like I couldn’t
move forward.
I felt I had to talk to someone
and I decided to speak to my then good friend, Ernest Akale but unfortunately
for me, Mr. Ernest did not have the capacity to hold what I said to him. He
broke down completely the days that followed and I found myself having to pause
how I was feeling and what I was struggling with to help my friend be strong.
After a while, he withdrew from not just me but his then fiancé and friends. I
had to then tell the fiancé what had caused it (she suspected we were having an
affair so I had to clear the air) To my surprise she was a lot stronger than
her man and told me to suck it up (I’m paraphrasing). She said if she were me,
she wouldn’t leave the church but stay to torment Pastor Biodun and collect
money from him. Ok! That sounded extreme for me, as my intention was not to
blackmail but to heal my broken self. Anyways, I finally found the courage to
speak to my then unit head who said he was going to talk to Pastor Biodun but
didn’t have the liver to do so. Before long, the story was spreading and
naturally getting twisted.
I went to a new church and it
seemed like the COZA bug had chased me there. The pastor would always refer to
COZA as some example and each time that was done, it seemed like a spear was
thrust through my chest. One day, I broke down in the service and started
crying uncontrollably, as I couldn’t take another mention of COZA and the
pictures it painted in my head.
Very long, boring story cut
short, for the last 5 months I gave the whole church thing a big space and
break. I wasn’t sure I believed in God. I wasn’t sure I understood what it
meant when people said ‘Jesus saves” and I definitely wasn’t sure how to deal
with the mental torture that was affecting not just me but my relationships
with family and friends. I was very unstable, fearful and worst of all guilty.
I got a chance to talk to Pastor Folarin of COZA Lagos Chapter, popularly
called Pastor flo about everything. I made an effort to reach out to him
because I realized the right thing to do was talk to an elder in the church and
seek some sort of remedy to a wrong I believed had been done me.
Instead, Pastor Flo said, Pastor
Biodun had confessed to him and they had ‘talked’ about it and somehow that was
supposed to be Ok. He asked what it was I wanted coming to talk to him about it
when I did, I told him I realized what happened between Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo
and I was wrong and not just that I felt abused and manipulated. I also said I
thought it was wrong for Pastor Biodun to go on preaching without taking time
to deal with his personal character flaws. I said I thought he was danger to
all the young women that attended the church. Come to think of it, maybe he
meant if I wanted something monetary or material (as someone had suggested when
I opened up to her) but the truth is, I never wanted his money (or is it the
church member’s money.) All I wanted was to meet with him and have him accept
that he misled me, betrayed his wife and the church he pastors. I wasn’t the
only lady in COZA who had been a victim of his sexcapades and manipulative
patterns but I was the one who could come back after months of struggle with
not just my faith but also my affair with him. And I wanted to set things
right. I wanted to talk to Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo maybe for closure and I felt
like I needed an apology because he played the “touch not my anointed” card to
keep me locked in guilt, shame and fear when all along it was a calculated plan
and I dare say, it started when he asked me to join the workforce.
Not to mention the audacity to
talk about teaching me a level of grace I didn’t understand. I had no intention
of understanding a grace that would permit me to go on doing things that were
wrong and what’s worse having to carry the burden for almost a year.
Different surprising advises came
up in the weeks that followed the rumour making rounds. I was told to hush
because Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo had been a cultist in the past and could send
people to shut me up. All my so-called friends in COZA withdrew from me and
treated me like I had the plague. What was worse was Pastor Flo finally saw my
then pastor to ‘talk’ about what had happened with Pastor Biodun and lied that
it happened once and was a mistake. My question then became, ‘do these people
even care how broken I had become?’ ’do they care about the emotional and
spiritual welfare of the people they were pastoring?’ The sad answer was NO.
Most of us old members of COZA kept leaving but they couldn’t care less. What
was important was to keep growing the church and having more and more cars with
stickers that read “More than enough.”
Back then, I always felt horrible when I saw another car drive past me
with the sticker. I was breaking, I was struggling but no one could help. All
they could do was ask me to hide so Pastor Biodun’s goons don’t hurt me. And
then the interesting one was if I had evidence to prove my claim. Let me just
say here that, it isn’t a claim, it’s a confession to free me from all of the
guilt and shame I have had to live with for no reason at all. (That being said,
I have evidence to prove all I have said here, the latest being a 58 minutes
recording of my meeting with Pastor Flo a few months back)
This is my confession and I
cannot begin to describe how much weight has been lifted off of my shoulders
just pouring the truth out about what went down. So, to all my ex COZA friends
gossiping about me, get your facts right. To those who said they’d help me deal
with the pain but didn’t, I forgive you, I have learnt how to deal with it and
I am doing just fine. To those who fear for my safety saying Pastor Biodun
would send people to shut me up, I really have gone past fearing for my life.
To live is gain and to die is Christ (or how does Paul say it again?) And to
the only person who ever supported me through it all, thank you, I am learning
to be brave. Please don’t think I am perfect in all of this but in line with
living my authentic life and putting all forms of abuse behind me, this is
where I press the stop button and stop the bleeding. This is where I break the
silence and call the church to stand up for what it has been commissioned to
do. If you will not enter the Kingdom, please don’t stop others who are trying
to enter.
I still remember when I used to
nurse the idea of digging up emails, text messages, hotel billings (as once I
used my card to pay for his room when his master card failed to work) to prove
there was an affair. It was pathetic. Why for the love of heaven was I trying
to dig up evidence? I am satisfied setting the record straight. I am ready for
any shaming or bashing that would follow because the truth is, because of what
I have suffered and come through, I am really not moved by what people say or
think about me anymore. I am a stronger woman and a damn abuse survivor seeking
to connect with other victims of abuse to show them how to deal with the shame,
hurt and guilt and how to come out stronger. Turning their mess into their
message.
I am Ese Walter and I have gone
through all forms of abuse from family, boyfriends, my ex pastor and some
strangers not to break me, but so I stand and so I qualify to help victims. My
scars have qualified me and when all is said and done, I will still be
standing. I AM WOMAN, I BEND, I DON’T BREAK!
Cheers to the freaking weekend!!!
1 comments:
She just wants cheap publicity..highway 2 being a celebrity...we don c u sha
Post a Comment