Keep an open mind as you read this because this is just one
side of the story. A lady named Ese Walter (pictured above) 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. So, if you are one of those living in denial and
covering up crap going on in the church, this is where you should stop reading.
Thanks for stopping by.
Now, for the rest of us, please sit down and switch on your
open mind. 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!!!
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