A bank official becomes ensnared by a canteen owner’s charm, severing ties with his wife and three children. KEHINDE ADEGOKE reports this true story of lost memory and eventual deliverance.
The prophet did not wait for silence.
He pointed — one long, trembling finger cutting through the crowd like a blade — straight at the man in the third row. The man in the neat blue kaftan who had arrived that morning holding the hand of a woman in a yellow lace dress.
“This is not your wife.”
The congregation went still.
“I said — this is not your wife.”
The man shifted in his seat. The woman in yellow lace stiffened beside him, her jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
“You have a wife,” the prophet continued, his voice dropping to a quieter, and therefore more terrifying, tone. “You have a wife. And you have three children. Three. And that woman — your real wife — you have abandoned her. You left her. With the children. While you brought this one to the house of God.”
Someone in the back row whispered. Someone else shushed them.
The man stood up slowly. Not to flee. Not to confess. He stood the way a man stands when the ground beneath him has turned to water — searching for something solid to plant his foot on and finding nothing.
“You work in a bank,” the prophet said. It was not a question.
The man’s mouth opened. Closed.
“Every recess. Every lunch break. Instead of going home, instead of calling your wife, you were going to eat from her plate.” The prophet’s eyes moved to the woman in yellow lace with something that was not quite cruelty and not quite pity. “She used to sell food by the roadside. You were her customer before you became her… arrangement.”
The woman in yellow lace stood abruptly.
“Sit down,” the prophet said softly. “I am not your enemy.”
She sat.
“You are a graduate,” the prophet said, returning to the man. “You have a certificate, you have a salary, you have a family God gave you with his own hands — and you traded all of it for a plate of food and a warm bed that does not belong to you.”
The man was crying now. Silently. The expensive kaftan absorbed his tears without ceremony.
“Every charm in your body,” the prophet said, his voice rising again, filling the rafters, filling the chests of every person present, “I destroy this morning. Every tie, every cord, every invisible rope that pulled you from your home and your children — I cut it. Now.”
He clapped once. The sound was like a gunshot.
“I release you.”
The man collapsed back into his seat as though his bones had been removed.
Later — much later, after the service, after the woman in yellow lace had walked out alone and driven away in a car that the man had been making payments on — someone asked the prophet how he had known.
He looked at them for a long moment.
“The eyes,” he said simply. “A man who has forgotten his wife has a particular kind of emptiness in his eyes. He is present everywhere except where he belongs.”
He picked up his Bible and walked away.
Outside, the man sat in the parking lot for one hour and forty minutes.
Then he picked up his phone and called a number he had not dialled in eight months.
It rang twice.
“Hello?” said a woman’s voice. Cautious. Tired. Still there.
“It’s me,” he said. “I’m coming home.”
The line went quiet for so long he thought she had cut the call.
She hadn’t.
This story is based on a video clip showing an event at a Church, where the man of God delivered what was described as a ‘runaway husband’. The account has been extracted and adapted from the visuals and audio of that video.
𝗞𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲 𝗔𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱-𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝟭𝟱 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲. 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘀, 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗴𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗔𝘀 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗘𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗘𝗢 𝗼𝗳 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗗𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗡𝗲𝘄𝘀.𝗰𝗼𝗺, 𝗔𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘄𝘀𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵𝘀, 𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗳𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗺.
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