Many years
ago, as I travelled along the Ayetoro Road in Abeokuta, Nigeria, I happened upon
a destitute girl that lay prostrate beside the dirty, busy road. According to
nearby residents she had been abandoned by a witch doctor that had intended to
use her sickly body as a human sacrifice. Realizing that she was nearly
lifeless this prophet of hell discarded her upon the roadside from the back
seat of his vehicle and sped into the darkness. The young girl, petrified by
the incident and unable to gather any strength, lied quietly through the
evening in her pitiful state. The next morning while people rushed off to work
in this West African town, few stopped to see the hardships of this delicate
girl. They found it better to consume their minds with their personal
struggles, than to be detained in the tragedy of a total stranger.
One of my
early converts and I, from the small church I had founded, picked up her
disheveled, weary body and carried her to a distant hospital. Here she was
admitted and they began to treat her for starvation and dehydration. The little
pre-teen girl did not speak and had eyes sunken into her head that spoke of
pain and woe. She had no known family to rush to her side. She had a humble
past and an uncertain future.
Over the
next twelve months she was nursed back to health by the fine nurses at this
obscure hospital. She was then taken to a local state-run orphanage where she
would spend the remainder of her childhood. We designated a name for her that
described our part in the rescue of this little girl. That name in the Yoruba
language was “Ebun Oluwa”, or “the gift of God”. Years later Ebun passed away
while living at the orphanage. She will never be forgotten. My love and
admiration for her charm and inner strength continues to shape my thoughts. It
inspires my resolve to help others whose lives have been cast away by the
world.

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