Binta Faruk. |
The
Genesis of my conversion started in the University of Nsukka, I had a room mate
called Chinwe, this lady loved praises, she will sing like this; *come and join
me sing Halleluyah* I was always looking for a way to deal with her, one day
while coming from the House fellowship, she kept her Bible on my bed and I
asked who kept the Bible on my Bed, she said sorry, Binta, I carried the Bible
and I tore the Bible, then I beat her. She took a piece of the Bible and cried
to the heavens and called my name three times, Binta Jalingo, Binta Jalingo,
Binta Jalingo, this Bible you tore, you will use it to preach the Gospel. Then
I slapped her again, I said, it is your mother and your father that will preach
the Gospel, she said, may the Lord have mercy on you, Binta. After seven years
of the spoken words, I got converted on the 25th of September 1999. I was in
the bedroom in Shehu's palace, because I got married to the younger brother of
the Shehu of Bornu. I was born into the Muri kingdom, which is mostly Fulani.
My mother, Hajia Aminat Jalingo, is of the Kutep tribe. Contrary to the Islamic
tradition of multiple wives, my father married and maintained only my mother. I
am the fifth of nine children. My father lived in many parts of Nigeria,
serving in the Army till 1996. My mother also worked with the Nigerian Medical
Corps until her retirement in 1992.
I
attended the Army Children School, Ikeja Cantonment, Lagos, completed my
secondary education at Government Girls’ College Enugu. I studied Mass
Communication at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN). After my studies, in
1996, I worked as Programme Producer/Director with the Nigeria Television
Authority (NTA), Yola. I got married on April 27, 1997 and God blessed us with
a set of twin boys – Hassan and Hussain.
I
never believed that I needed salvation for whatever reason, because every
Moslem is convinced that Muhammad was the last Prophet in the long line of
those that Allah had sent before. The Islamic Hadith (Mishkat) speaks of about
124,000 people who lived at various times in history. Twenty-eight of them are
mentioned by name and most are found in the Bible. Since each of them was sent
with a word from Allah to warn the respective people not to practice idolatry,
to live righteously and to consider the coming Day of Judgement, it is
perceived by Moslems that Isa (Jesus), the one to whom is given the greatest prominence
in the Qur’an, was like Ibrahim (Abraham), Musa (Moses) and most others sent to
the Jews. Therefore, when I heard Christians call Him, Lord, I became mad at
them.
As
a young girl, in the Secondary School and even as an undergraduate, I would
delightfully pack copies of the Holy Bible and take them to Kaduna for
destruction, I thought the Bible was demonic. Many are still doing it today, I
became the Vice President of the youth wing of the Jamaatu Nasril Islam. Very
often, I saw Christians happy in every situation; yet, my success at school,
which gave me the job at NTA, and brightened my chances of a good husband,
could not bring me such peace and happiness. Several people had talked to me
about Christianity, but to me then, Muhammad was the final seal of the
prophets. This was my pride as a Fulani girl who saw herself in the greatest
religion of all time.
Qu’ran
does not teach salvation in Jesus Christ, but it gives Him the greatest
prominence. The wonderful statements in the Qu’ran are enough to compel one to
search more about Him. The name Jesus (Isa) occurs about 25 times in the
Qu’ran, and the title Messiah is used 93 times.
I
hated anything that had to do with Christianity. I was always happy seeing a
Christian unhappy and enjoyed hearing that Christians were suffering, but on
the 25th of September 1999, I was caught in a web. The day before, we attended
the Friday prayers and all went well. At about 1:30am suddenly, an unusually
bright light appeared in the bedroom with a mighty wind blowing and throwing
all the pictures and other valuables to the ground. My husband and I became
afraid. He got up from bed, brought out charms, known in Hausa as “Hayaki”. He
placed it on the ground, got hot charcoal and placed the charm on it, but the
mighty wind threw it all down.
Before
we could make out anything, a voice thundered, saying: “You have been baptized
by the Holy Spirit. Go and be “Tabitha” unto my people”. I asked my husband if
he could understand what the voice was saying, but he said that he did not hear
any voice. He later concluded that I belonged to a secret cult, which accounted
for my hearing voice that he could not hear. He thought that I wanted to
sacrifice him or our set of twins. He got angry, took our twins to the
guestroom and abandoned me in the bedroom. I was very worried and
couldn’t sleep. In the morning, again, I heard the voice saying: “Tell your
husband that you have accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Saviour”. I said
“No, I can’t. What has a Fulani got to do with Jesus Christ”, I thought that
demons were after me. The thing happened again on 28th and 29th, and each time,
there was an invitation to “come and serve”. So I told my husband that I would
go to Church the following Sunday. “Not in this house”, he retorted, He might
have received my word with shock, yet joy and peace flooded my heart at that
time. I knew what I was passing through and it would be disastrous for me not
to do what God would want me to do for Him.
On
Saturday, after speaking to him about it, I went ahead and bought for myself
the first Bible I ever bought or read in my life, and hid it under my box. The
next day, Sunday, I picked up my Bible, got into my car and drove to the nearby
Baptist Church.
After
the service, I came back and met my husband at home. I greeted him but he asked
me where I was coming from; I wanted to lie, but heard a voice saying ‘what
were you taught in the church today?’ It was “Ye shall know the truth and the
truth shall make you free” So, I told him that I was coming from the Church. He
got up in anger, gave me a beating, snatched the Bible from me and wanted to
tear it but I told him of the danger of tearing the Bible, so he stopped. He
was shocked because he knew that it was my role in the past. So he dropped the
Bible in anger and left till the evening. I brought out food for him as usual,
but he kicked the food away and warned his sister that no one should eat the
food I cooked in the house again for he had declared me an infidel and as a
result, I would have nothing to do with the family, even with my own kids. The
next day, he went to fetch my father from Makurdi. As I welcomed my father, he
too, started beating me with his military belt and boots, until I was unconscious
and was taken to the hospital where I stayed for three days. Wonderfully, on
the third day, at about 2 am, the Lord appeared to me. I noticed a touch on my
feet and I woke up trying to see who it was that touched me, but the face was
shinning like the sun in such a way that I could not see his face. I only
looked at Him from His feet to the chest. I was afraid and screamed for help.
One of the nurses came, prayed with me and asked me not to be afraid again. As
I said amen to her prayers, I began to speak in tongues for about three hours.
I was saying things they could not understand. Some of them thought I was mad
but a psychiatric doctor who was called in, confirmed that I was normal.
The
figure appeared again. This time He said unto me, “Be bold, for this is
temporary: you will overcome the temptation”. The fourth day, I was discharged
from the hospital. On getting home, my husband gave me a divorce letter, which
I collected with joy and told him. ‘I am married to Jesus.’
After
that, I packed my things, including my two cars, kept them in someone’s house
and travelled to Lagos. My husband took my twins to Saudi Arabia. Not done yet,
my father had the man that I had kept my belongings in his house arrested on
the grounds that he had abducted me from my husband’s house. On hearing that, I
returned to Jalingo and arranged his release. Then, my father collected my cars
and other belongings claiming that he bought them for me as wedding presents.
In
trying to make me renounce my faith in Christ, the Management of the Nigeria
Television Authority (NTA), Yola, had my appointment terminated, under pressure
from my husband. My father and some Islamic fanatics took me to one Alhaji’s
house in Jalingo and there chained my feet and my hands. After seven days, I was
released, with a threat of death, if I went to Church again.
My
mother arranged for my uncle, her elder brother to reconcile my father and me.
As we went talking, my father got angry, picked up his gun and shot at me. As
God would have it, the little movement I made at the sight of a gun overturned
the seat where I was sitting and I was pushed to the ground. The gun sounded
but the bullets did not enter me but passed through the chair and to the wall.
Everybody was alarmed, my mother started weeping that he had killed her only
daughter. Later, my mother advised me to go and stay with her elder brother.
Being a moslem, he too was unhappy with me and made life difficult. Once, he
threatened to kill me with a cutlass so I left his house for Lagos and later,
Maiduguri.
I
was denied my rights in the family; my father had me thrown into prison on
false allegation. He had initially gone to a Sharia court but I protested
against that since I am now a Christian. So, he took me to a Magistrate court
at Hadeja. The Magistrate ordered that I be remanded in prison for calling my
father, my neighbour. I was in detention for six months without trial and bail
until some Christians on prison visitation, learnt that I was there for
becoming a Christian. The matter was reported to the Christian Association of
Nigeria (CAN) Chairman who wrote a petition that led to my proper trial. The
Magistrate sentenced me to two years imprisonment plus a fine of five thousand
Naira. One Christian Women Fellowship in the area paid the fine while I was
taken to prison. That was September 5, 2000. Some inmates asked me to
appeal but I told them, confidently, that the Lord Jesus would do a great
Appeal for me. At midnight, I prayed: ‘Lord, I want you to deliver me from this
prison before December. If you don’t, the people will ask me, where is your
God?’ I reminded him of how He answered Hezekiah. On October 2, 2000, less than
a month after my imprisonment, a letter came from Abuja ordering my release and
I was set free. My prison experiences brought me closer to God that I developed
more faith in God’s ability to see me through.
After
two months, I decided to go and share the Lord Jesus with my grandparents. The
moslem youths were looking for me everywhere, to kill me. They hid me until I couldn’t
be hidden. I fled to the bush for four days. On the fourth night, I woke up
with a snake beside me. That day, I told God that I wanted to go back to Islam.
I couldn’t continue like that in the bush but He quickly reprimanded me. He
asked “Upon all the sufferings you’ve been through, you still want to go back?
If I didn’t shut the mouth of the snake, wouldn’t it bite you while you slept?
I repented and told him that I was sorry; I will never go back to Egypt”.
I
found out that God actually took me to prison to teach me some things. One was
to read the Bible and two, because of a female Christian warder who left and
married a Moslem and God shut her womb. In the prison, God told me in a dream
that she was going to have a baby. When I told her, she became angry, tortured
me, called me names, but I kept praying for her, that the name of the Lord be
glorified since I had said the Lord told me. Later, she actually had the baby,
and that converted her and her husband. Eight moslems in the prison gave their
lives to Christ. They were baptized in the Holy Ghost before I left. Seeing
what the Lord used me to do in the prison, I knew that I would do better
outside. One day, some moslem youths came and kidnapped me. They laid me on the
ground, raised their cutlasses to kill me but their hands remained hanging in
the air. That happened to three of them and the others fled. They were later
taken to the police who wanted them killed but I told them it was the Lord’s
battle not theirs. I told them that I had forgiven them. As I was leaving, they
asked for their hands to be restored. I said “In the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ, let your hands come down” and their cutlasses dropped. Today, they are
Christians and live with me. On another occasion, another group of moslem
youths kidnapped me. They were taking me to Sokoto. On the way, scorpions
emerged and started to sting them. They dropped me, begged me and even gave me
money to take me back home. Yet on another occasion, they kidnapped me and
wanted to inject me with poisonous material but they couldn’t find those
materials and had to let me go.
The
Bible says we must start from our Jerusalem. Moslems and Fulanis are my
Jerusalem. Many of them live in ignorance, not having heard of Jesus till
today. And if I am one of the fortunate ones that God brought out, I need to go
out and say something to them. That is why I say I would fight the cause with
my blood. I am not limiting myself to Nigeria; I intend to go to the Middle
East, planting a church in Saudi Arabia where my children are. I tell God that
my children in Saudi Arabia are Ambassadors of Christ and they must become
Pastors in Saudi Arabia.
So,
any time I hear a moslem is converted somewhere and is persecuted, I take them
in. I have forty-nine under my roof right now. They call me “mama”. The oldest
is eighty-nine years. She became a Christian and her children threw her from
upstairs to die, but God preserved her. A Pastor found her and brought her to
the centre. Some come with their ears cut off, others are stripped naked etc. I
pray for people to join me in this crusade. Thank God. He is raising men among
the coverts in the centre and in my family.
My
immediate elder brother who is a soldier has become a Christian. My mother
became a Christian since 2002. My elder brothers who wanted me dead or back to
Islam are now Christians. One of them, a Senior Lecturer at the University of
Maiduguri had to relocate to Imo State because of persecution.
I
testify that Jesus is Lord. Some people came to attack us. The first time they
came, they saw a pool of blood: the house became a pool of blood. The second
time they came, the house became plain land. The third time, they saw ocean.
The last time, the house became a pillar of fire. Sometime later, something
happened that led to their arrest and the Commissioner of Police sent for me.
On getting there, the police brought the criminals who said that I didn’t know
them but they knew me. They were all Moslems, some of them from Republic of
Niger. They then narrated how they had to attack me, but I was delivered by the
Lord. That day, the Commissioner of Police lined up his men in the office and
asked me to pray for them.
Instead
of leaving me alone, my former husband began to persecute me. While leading
some assassins to my place to kill me, the vehicle in which they were
travelling was involved in an accident. He, alone died in the hospital after
confessing that he wanted me dead for I was bringing shame to his name. It
pains me because both of us were in the same room the day I heard the voice.
After that I prevented him from destroying a copy of the Bible, something I
used to enjoy doing. He knew how violent I was, destroying Christendom. He
should have learnt a lesson from my conversion and repented. That is how many others
die without repentance even though they are exposed to the gospel. The good
Lord who is always my Shield and Protector will always save and hide me in His
shadow. My life is in God’s hand.”
Binta
Faruk Jalingo was a staff of the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) Yola. She
runs Tabitha Evangelistic Ministry, a home for the persecuted (Converted
Muslims) in Miango, Jos Plateau State, Nigeria.
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