Welcome to How He Saved Me

This webpage is dedicated to my testimony of how I overcame spiritual and demonic attacks through Jesus Christ. I hope this helps someone else out there going through a similar struggle.

Whatever the situation, find and devote yourself to Jesus and He Will Fight For You.

To begin, I just want to highlight that spirits are real, demons are real and most importantly - God is Real.

I grew up in a Christian home, my mother being a Christian and my father being a Muslim, and was eventually brought up the Christian way.

Always went to Church, and read the Bible, but was sheltered by God's Grace from the evils of the world.

Life was fairly normal, growing up in an upper - middle class household in Lagos Nigeria, I was blessed to attend what's considered the best of schools in the country and took my higher education abroad, where I eventually got my engineering degree and secured well paying jobs in the process.

God's favor has always been with me, for everytime I prayed, and fasted, my prayers almost always gets answered. The few times they don't, God always had a better plan for me.

It got to the point that if I pray about something I really want and I don't get it, I am usually very confident that something much better lies in wait.

As soon as I returned, things started to get strange. I began having nightmares, which I initially ignored, but my days were filled with bad luck and negative experiences.

First off, my car was towed from my own apartment due to garage cleaning while I was in Dubai. a slight inconvenience which happens so it was whatever,

Then, on October 6th, I lost my job.

This shattered me.

I had another trip planned to South Africa and had promised to join a group of friends. I thought it would be a good opportunity to clear my head and regroup.

Upon arriving in Cape Town, the pilot was forced to circle the airport for almost an hour. I lost track of time—he announced we would land in 30 minutes, and I shut my eyes. When I opened them, what felt like two hours later, the pilot announced that we wouldn't be able to land and were being redirected to Johannesburg.

We flew back to Johannesburg and waited for another hour or two until the Cape Town airport was ready to receive us. Then, the pilot announced that we wouldn’t be able to complete the trip that night due to an oil spill on the Cape Town runway. It was the most inconvenient news I had heard that day. Having just lost my job, I couldn’t help but wonder why everything seemed to be going wrong.

At the Johannesburg airport, the airline arranged for us to stay at a subpar hotel. I was exhausted and distraught. I prayed hard for God to see me through, knowing the next flight from the same airline wouldn’t leave until the following night.

Fortunately, I found a local flight to Cape Town departing in the morning and managed to book a seat by phone. I felt relieved. I arrived in Cape Town by noon.

Though I missed the first four days of the trip, I finally got to spend time with my friends. However, I had to buy new clothes for the day because my luggage was still on the United Airlines flight, which wouldn’t arrive until midnight.

Despite the challenges, I salvaged what I could from the trip and returned to the States. It wasn’t the best experience, but I made it work.

Back home, I faced the harsh reality of losing my primary source of income.

Determined to be proactive, I aggressively applied for jobs, reaching out to old colleagues and friends. I started getting interviews, some with promising opportunities.

I prayed and fasted, successfully making it through three long and tedious rounds of interviews. After the third round, I felt confident the job was mine. But on the Friday when I broke my fast, I received an email saying the role had been canceled.

I was disappointed but decided to keep going, as I had other interviews lined up.

But the same thing kept happening.

In one interview, I passed rounds 1, 2, and 3, only for the role to be canceled.

In another, the job offer was delayed. 

Then, in another, the role was canceled again.

This started to deeply concern me. What were the odds of all my most promising opportunities being canceled back-to-back?

During this time, I continued to have nightmares about my childhood, being back in secondary school in Nigeria or in my old house in Surulere when I was 9 years old. I couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

I prayed hard, yet I kept facing job rejections during the day and nightmares at night. My life felt like a living hell. My finances began to suffer as well. Every investment I made crashed unexpectedly, almost as if I were cursed. I even tested this theory with sure investments, but the same thing happened. I gambled on FanDuel, and on the day Liverpool played Luton, I was on the verge of winning $10,000. Then Luton scored, and Liverpool only equalized after I cashed out for a mere $110 at the 95th* minute. It felt like this curse was manipulating real-world events just to torment me.

I couldn’t understand what was happening. I kept praying, fighting this battle alone. The most painful part was feeling like I couldn’t explain my predicament to anyone—who would even believe me? It was too bizarre to imagine.

I kept praying. When the New Year came, I made sure to attend church service, hoping to be delivered. A few days later, my local church held an event called "14 Days of Glory." I participated and prayed fervently until one night, while praying with the service playing, I fell asleep.

In a vivid dream, I could hear the prayers from my device, but I also saw a group of unknown figures around my bed. One of them, a woman, laughed as she handed me an envelope. I opened it to find a contract with my name on it. She continued laughing as I struggled to tear up the envelope in my dream, but my body wouldn’t move. I woke up, realizing I was under spiritual attack.

I couldn’t handle this alone anymore. So, on January 12th, 2024, I finally reached out to my parents in Nigeria to tell them everything.

After that event, I began researching to understand what was happening in my life. I came across various articles and forums that all pointed to a spiritual attack—specifically, an attack on my destiny.

Learning this made me angry. I couldn’t figure out where or how this attack could have originated. Was it from people envious of the extravagant birthday party thrown for me? Or was it connected to the mysterious woman I met in Dubai? The timing was suspicious. I even feared that this was how my 30s would unfold after having such an amazing 20s.

The thought that my destiny was under attack infuriated me. I had always considered myself a kind and responsible person, someone who brought good vibes to everyone around me. It felt unfair and wicked that I was being targeted like this, seemingly without provocation. I decided to fight back, convincing myself that if I had to go down, I would go down swinging.

I started praying fervently and watching videos on YouTube about prayers and deliverance services. That’s when I discovered Apostle Joshua Selman.

One of the services I watched included a testimony from someone who had been delivered from nightmares similar to mine, specifically about being back in secondary school. It felt like a sign from God, showing me that I wasn’t alone in this battle. Someone else had gone through what I was experiencing and had overcome it. This ignited a fire in me. I listened to the sermon, and Apostle Selman’s teachings touched my soul. Not only did he convey the message clearly and powerfully, but he also gave me hope when he declared deliverance over situations just like mine. I remembered that I had first encountered him during the Hallelujah Challenge the previous year, a two-week prayer and praise session led by Pastor Nat.

I started regularly watching Apostle Selman’s YouTube videos and attending his Sunday services, which typically lasted four to five hours. My Sunday afternoons were booked, and I was inspired and moved by his words. I decided to fully immerse myself in my faith and to invite Jesus into my life and situation.

Every night became a spiritual battle. I would spend one or two hours after midnight praying for deliverance and restoration. I often went to my car, drove to the roof of my apartment building, and screamed my prayers into the night. I avoided doing this in my apartment to not alarm my roommate and his girlfriend. I also began documenting my dreams, as they seemed to hold significant meaning. I regretted not paying attention to them sooner; perhaps if I had, I could have nipped this in the bud.

This routine continued every single day. I would endure nightmares at night and lose money by day. I was depressed, but my parents did their best to comfort me with their own prayers. Still, I couldn’t keep going much longer.

In the early evenings, I would go for a drive, park in an empty lot, and vent, cry, and scream to God and the world. I kept asking, "Why me? Why now? And for how long?" I had been praying for weeks, but it felt like years, and despite my prayers, the nightmares never stopped—they probably even intensified.

I decided that the only way to be delivered was for the Apostle to pray over me directly. Although I didn’t have the funds to attend the Koinonia service in Nigeria, I was hopeful about an upcoming conference in the U.S. and Canada. However, I was disheartened to find out that the events had already sold out, especially in the U.S. I hoped to obtain a spare ticket from someone online and eventually managed to secure an overflow ticket, which might mean being in an extension of the service building. Still, I was keen on getting a spot inside the main service. The conference was five months away, and the thought of enduring this torment for another five months was daunting, but I persevered.

During the day, I found solace in watching anime and working on my startup. It was the only thing giving me hope, something to live for. Otherwise, my spirit felt battered and bruised. I couldn’t even be there for my friends like I usually would. I stopped going out and stayed indoors. Friends called, trying to figure out what was going on with me, but luckily, I had the excuse of being focused on my startup, preparing for its launch. My friends were involved in the latest testing rounds of our mobile app, which was set to launch in a few weeks, so it provided a valid excuse for my unavailability and a distraction from my much larger problems.

Some days were good, bringing small victories, while others were bad. I became depressed and even suicidal. I felt so out of control that if a truck were to come barreling toward me, I probably wouldn’t have moved out of the way.

This year had become the hardest and darkest of my entire life.

I was completely devastated. The nightmares and financial struggles worsened, taking a serious toll on both my mental and physical health. I couldn’t keep up with working out or staying fit, as most of my days were spent fasting and praying. On the rare occasions when I played soccer, I’d be too exhausted to pray before bed. But I couldn't afford to gamble with that. The thought of falling asleep without praying terrified me. Even with all the fasting and prayers, I was already having disturbing dreams. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I got careless. I believed my prayers were the only thing keeping me alive throughout this ordeal.

Previously, I’d fast for a few days to a week at a time, repeatedly, but this time I decided to keep going. I made up my mind that I wouldn’t end my fast until I was fully delivered and restored.

As I continued listening to the word, I learned there are multiple levels to achieving complete deliverance. Many Christians only understood the first step, but I came across Matthew 12:43-45, which says:

*"When an unclean spirit goes out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest but finds none. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ When it returns, it finds the house empty, swept clean, and put in order. Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the final condition of that person is worse than the first."*

This passage felt real to me. While I may not have been possessed, because a person who has found Christ cannot be possessed, it clarified that in this evil world, the enemy doesn’t give up easily. Even Jesus was tempted three times after fasting for forty days and forty nights.

The battle might have been won, but the war continues.

I had no other option—I had to attend the Koinonia Revival Conference by any means necessary. As I continued to battle nightmares and depression, I held on to the hope that the revival series at the end of July would bring the deliverance I so desperately needed. It was the only thing keeping me going.

By this time, my mother had arrived from Nigeria, and her worry only added to my own distress. Seeing my situation impact my family was heartbreaking, but I kept enduring, focusing all my energy on the upcoming Revival.

When the week finally arrived, I secured my tickets to Canada. I didn’t tell even my closest friends, avoiding any distractions. My sole purpose was to achieve complete deliverance.

The revival was a two-day event, and I was ready. I flew in early in the morning and attended the first session that evening. It was an incredible experience—I felt enlightened, and I knew my prayers had reached the heavens.

The second day was equally fulfilling. By the end of the night, I felt so moved by the spirit that I rededicated my life to Christ. My heart was full, and while I wasn’t yet fully delivered, the enlightenment I received was transformative. I left Canada with renewed confidence and a sense of peace. Even when there was turbulence on the flight back, I remained calm, feeling so empowered by the spirit that I joked I could catch the plane if it fell.

I returned to the States motivated to continue fighting and see this journey through. It wasn’t easy, but I was convinced that God had a plan for me and wouldn’t put me through this without a purpose. For someone who had once received favor and blessings after just a day of prayer and fasting, I was now eager to see the outcome of over 200 days of continued prayers and fasting. 

Because the Lord is not a man that He should lie.

My breakthrough was near—I could feel it. All I had to do was persevere and stay strong in faith.