SAME GOD PART 3
Tijesunimi sat quietly in her modest apartment, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her teacup as she heard a knock on the door. She recognized the soft, familiar voice before she even opened it.
“Hello, Sister Grace,” Tijesunimi greeted warmly as she swung the door open.
“Haba, Sister bawo? I am your daughter o!” Grace teased, stepping inside with a beaming smile.
Tijesunimi rolled her eyes playfully. “Please stop it. How are you, ma?”
“I am doing fine,” Grace replied as she settled into a chair.
“Please have your seat properly,” Tijesunimi said, gesturing towards the couch.
Grace settled in and grinned. “Ma, I called you three days ago to wish you a happy birthday.”
“Yes, my 31st birthday oooo,” Tijesunimi said, her voice tinged with both joy and weariness.
“Wow! I am so happy for you, ma!” Grace exclaimed.
“Thank you so much,” Tijesunimi said, offering a small smile.
Grace’s expression turned serious. “I also came to share a testimony with you, ma.”
Tijesunimi perked up. “Okay, please share it.”
Grace took a deep breath before blurting out, “I am getting married in three months, ma.”
“Wow! Praise God!” Tijesunimi clapped her hands together, genuinely happy for her.
“Please, I want you to be there, ma. This is a special invitation for you,” Grace said earnestly.
“Eyah… but why?” Tijesunimi asked, a slight furrow appearing between her brows.
“Ma, you have been a blessing to me. You were the one the Lord used to save me from that devil, Prof. Bamiwo. I can never forget that, ma. Through you, my spiritual life became better and flourishing.”
Tijesunimi sighed, touched by the words. “Eyah, that is so sweet.”
“Please, will you be able to make it, ma?” Grace pressed.
“I will try my best,” Tijesunimi promised.
“Thank you, ma.”
“Have you told Pastor about it?” Tijesunimi inquired.
“I will be visiting him after leaving here,” Grace responded.
“Okay, that is good.”
Grace hesitated, her expression troubled. “But please, Sister Tijesunimi, I have something really bothering me. I’m not sure if I can discuss it, ma.”
“Please go ahead, tell me,” Tijesunimi encouraged.
“Hmmm… I am not sure if I should talk about it,” Grace murmured, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
“Seriously, you are free to say whatever,” Tijesunimi reassured her.
Grace sighed. “Hmmm…”
Tijesunimi leaned forward. “Okay, I get it.”
“What, ma?”
“You want to ask why I am still in school after three years,” Tijesunimi stated bluntly.
Grace’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you know, ma?”
Tijesunimi scoffed softly. “What else is giving people concern about my life if not that?”
Grace hesitated before asking, “Hmmm… what I will ask is if you are not depressed in any way.”
“God is my strength,” Tijesunimi responded, though her voice wavered slightly.
“Oh, my sister, please let God help you,” Grace implored.
Tijesunimi sighed. “Hmmm.”
“Whatever it is, your labor of love in the vineyard of God will speak for you,” Grace encouraged.
“Amen,” Tijesunimi murmured.
“It is well.”
“Amen.”
Grace stood up. “Please, let me be on my way.”
“Okay, please.”
“Have a lovely day, ma.”
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” Tijesunimi responded.
Grace hesitated at the door. “Please, I hope I have not caused anything by raising this topic, ma.”
“Not at all,” Tijesunimi reassured her.
“Okay, ma. I am grateful, ma.”
“I will call you and give you feedback on the invitation.”
“Okay, ma.”
As the door closed behind Grace, Tijesunimi’s smile faded. She leaned against the door, her heart heavy. Her lips trembled as she whispered bitterly to herself, “It is not your fault. Why will you not come and mock me in my house? Se bi you have gotten a man that wants to marry you, and I am here claiming to be a strong child of God. Tijesunimi, what an understanding child of God you are. And you should have known by now that an understanding child of God no dey pay.”
Her frustration boiled over, and without hesitation, she picked up her phone and dialed her pastor’s number.
“Hello, Tijesunimi,” Pastor’s calm voice came through the receiver.
“Hello, Pastor,” she greeted stiffly.
“How are you today?”
“I just called to tell you this, sir.”
“What is that?”
Her voice was firm, unwavering. “I have decided not to spend an extra year on this campus.”
There was silence on the other end before Pastor asked, “You decided, or did God tell you He is about to settle it?”
Tijesunimi exhaled sharply. “All I know is I don’t know how God wants to do it, but I know I am not going to spend an extra year in this school.”
“Amen.”
“I am also going to tell Prof. Bamiwo that I am not spending an extra year in this school.”
“Tijesunimi,” Pastor’s tone turned serious.
“Yes, sir?”
“I hope you are not trying to go and have your way on this issue.”
“God will help me, sir.”
“Tijesunimi, tell me the truth.”
She hesitated, then simply said, “Don’t stop praying, Pastor. Thank you, sir.”
Before he could say another word, she disconnected the call.
Dropping the phone on the table, she clenched her fists. “It is time to go and finish this battle once and for all. Prof, let me show you my skills and wear my graduation gown. Wisdom is profitable to direct.”
The soft yet persistent knock echoed through the office, interrupting the heavy silence. Professor Bamiwo, his face streaked with tears, lifted his head weakly. His voice trembled as he asked, “Who is that?”
“Tijesunimi,” came the calm but firm voice from behind the door.
“Please, come in,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes hastily, ashamed of being caught in such a vulnerable state.
The door creaked open, and Tijesunimi stepped inside with measured steps. She stood tall, her expression unreadable as she looked at the man who had caused her so much suffering. “Good afternoon, Professor.”
Professor Bamiwo let out a heavy sigh. His voice cracked as he spoke. “Tijesunimi… I am sorry. Please, forgive me.”
She blinked, taken aback by his sudden remorse. “Excuse me, sir?”
“I know I have caused you so much pain,” he repeated, his gaze fixed on the desk. “Please, forgive me.”
Before Tijesunimi could respond, another voice interrupted.
“Tijesunimi Maxwell.”
She turned sharply, her brows furrowing. A well-dressed young man stood near the window, his sharp eyes studying her.
“Good… af…ter…noon, sir,” she stammered, not recognizing him but feeling a strange familiarity.
The man nodded knowingly. “I thought as much.”
Professor Bamiwo turned towards the young man with an expression of surprise. “You know her?”
“I do,” the man affirmed. “But I am sure she does not know me.”
Tijesunimi tilted her head. “Where, sir?”
The man took a deep breath and turned to Professor Bamiwo. “Dad.”
Professor Bamiwo nodded solemnly. “Yes?”
“Do you remember the experience I told you I had?”
“Which one?”
“The day I wanted to kill myself in the UK,” he said quietly.
A wave of realization washed over the professor. “Oh… okay.”
The young man—Femi—turned back to Tijesunimi. “I told you I stumbled on a fellowship online, where a lady was being interviewed. Through her interview, I got saved.”
Tijesunimi’s breath hitched. “Wow.”
Professor Bamiwo’s eyes widened. “My God, are you kidding me?”
Femi took a step closer. “Sister Tijesunimi, my name is Femi Bamiwo.”
She nodded slowly. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“I know you don’t know me,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought my name would ring a bell.”
She frowned slightly. “Not yet, sir.”
Femi inhaled deeply. “There was a day you had an interview session in a church or fellowship, and you were talking about being intentional about choosing Christ. You said someone was watching and was about to commit suicide. You said God ministered to you to tell me it was not over. You called my name—Femi.”
Tijesunimi’s hands trembled as she covered her mouth. “My God. I remember.”
Femi smiled sadly. “I am the Femi. I watched the broadcast from the UK, and that was how God arrested and saved me. You said I wanted to commit suicide because my father told me I could never amount to anything in life.”
Tijesunimi nodded slowly. “Yes…”
Femi turned to his father. “Here is the father that made that call. I gave my life to Christ that day, and today, to the glory of God, my father has just submitted his life to the Lord.”
Tijesunimi gasped. “It’s a lie!”
“This is true, ma,” Femi said, his voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you for giving yourself to the Lord. I would have been a dead man, but you came into the picture, and everything changed.”
Professor Bamiwo, still in shock, muttered, “How many years ago was this?”
“Three years, Dad,” Femi answered.
Professor Bamiwo exhaled sharply. “Could that be the ministration you said you went to on the morning I conducted that test?”
Tijesunimi nodded hesitantly. “Yes, sir.”
Suddenly, Professor Bamiwo’s expression darkened. “Get out of my office.”
Tijesunimi froze. “Sir?”
“I said, get out of my office!”
Femi’s face twisted in confusion. “Dad, why would you say that?”
“I will not repeat myself. Get out!” the professor bellowed.
Tijesunimi inhaled deeply, straightened her posture, and walked out, closing the door behind her.
Femi turned to his father in shock. “Dad, why would you do that?”
Professor Bamiwo sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. “Son, I have done a terrible thing.”
Femi took a step back. “Oh no… Dad, don’t tell me you also slept with her?”
“I tried…” Professor Bamiwo admitted, his voice thick with shame. “But she did not give in. That is why she is still a student of this school.”
Femi staggered, gripping the back of a chair. “What?!”
“She was supposed to graduate that year, but I delayed her for three years.”
Femi clutched his chest. “Jesus! My God!”
Professor Bamiwo wiped his forehead, shaking his head. “I am sure she came today again to fight me, as usual, but God fought her battle for her already.”
Femi’s eyes filled with tears. “Dad, why would you do such a terrible thing? So if not for God saving your life today, how long would you have kept her in this school?”
“As long as possible… Even if it took ten years,” the professor confessed.
Femi’s hands clenched into fists. “Daddy!!”
“You are not seeing what I am seeing,” Professor Bamiwo said, his voice eerily calm.
“What are you seeing in your wickedness?” Femi spat.
Professor Bamiwo leaned back in his chair. “That is the only girl I stood against desperately on this campus, and she never gave in.”
Femi exhaled sharply. “So?”
“You see wickedness, but I see a woman I can beat my chest for. A woman who can marry my son, who has suffered several heartbreaks from useless ladies in and out of this country.”
Femi’s jaw dropped. “What?!”
“Son, please,” the professor pleaded. “I, Professor Bamiwo, your father, recommend that lady for you. Please do all you can to marry her. She will move you and your companies in and out of this country to the next level. She is the woman we need to help us reshape our entire family.”
Femi swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. “But Dad, you just sent her away. How do I meet her?”
A smirk played on Professor Bamiwo’s lips. “Don’t be stupid, son. I have her contact.”
Tijesunimi ran to church, sat on the cold, hard floor of the church, her body trembling as she wept bitterly. Tears streamed down her face, soaking the scarf wrapped tightly around her shoulders. The weight of guilt pressed upon her like an unbearable burden, suffocating her. The sanctuary was dimly lit, the soft glow of the altar candles casting long shadows across the pews. The only sound that filled the air was her desperate sobs and the rhythmic ticking of the clock mounted on the wall.
“Pastor, please pray for my forgiveness,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “Lord, I am sorry. I missed it… If not for Your mercy…”
The Pastor with a heart full of compassion, knelt beside her, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his voice filled with empathy as he whispered, “Jesus, we are sorry.”
She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. “Pastor, what would have happened if I had taken that step yesterday?”
The Pastor shook his head solemnly. “Jesus, please have mercy.”
Tijesunimi buried her face in her hands. “I went there… I was ready to give in to his bidding, Pastor.”
The Pastor sighed deeply, his own heart heavy with the weight of her confession. “Jesus, have mercy.”
“At the last minute, I almost messed up,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“My God…” The Pastor exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment. “Daughter, listen to me. God granted you mercy. If not for His mercy, it would have ended in total disaster.”
She let out a deep, shuddering sigh. “Haaaaa…” Her body rocked with the force of her anguish.
The Pastor suddenly looked thoughtful. “No wonder… Now I think we finally have the answer to the meaning of the dream we both had three years ago.”
Tijesunimi gasped, recalling the dream. “Haaaaa…” she whispered again.
“You planted,” the Pastor continued, “and then you went back fighting the man, not knowing that your seed had already germinated and was ready to be harvested.”
Tijesunimi let out a cry of astonishment. “Jesus! Is this how You work? My God, it is true! Only Your grace can sustain a man. I thought I would never give in. I thought I was strong. But I almost did. I almost failed.”
“Thank You for mercy, Lord,” the Pastor murmured.
“If not for mercy, Lord, I would have been reduced to nothing. So all along, God was actually targeting his soul, and I was busy seeing only a wicked man?”
“Thank You for mercy, Lord,” the Pastor echoed.
Tijesunimi shook her head, overwhelmed by revelation. “No wonder God was silent all the while. It means that when God speaks, it is done. But when He is silent about a matter, it means He is still working. Jesus, my God, thank You, Lord!”
The Pastor nodded. “Jesus, thank You for mercy.”
Tijesunimi took a deep, steadying breath. “I would have returned to my vomit. I would have missed it. And I am not sure the devil would not have destroyed me completely. But by Your mercy…”
“Jesus, we thank You for mercy.”
“Forgive me, Lord. I thought You had left me. I missed it, but You helped me out. What would that young man have said if I had fallen? He would have been so disappointed.”
“Jesus, You are worthy.”
She turned to the Pastor, sincerity and gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Pastor, for not leaving me. Thank you for being real. You said it—you wanted to go and face him, but God said it was not your battle. It is true. It was the Lord’s battle, and He fought it all, but I almost messed up.”
The Pastor smiled gently. “Daughter, it is time to forgive yourself and walk majestically into your victory. God has won the battle already and given you a testimony to share.”
“Thank you, Pastor. I appreciate everything you have done.”
“It is God.”
“Thank you.”
“Let us pray.”
Tijesunimi knelt beside the Pastor. “Yes, Pastor.”
Together, they lifted their voices in prayer, thanking God for His unending mercy and the victory He had granted. The atmosphere in the room shifted, a sense of peace descending upon them.
As they finished praying, Tijesunimi’s phone rang. She hesitated, glancing at the screen before silencing it. “Pastor, I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”
“Cheer up,” he encouraged. “Don’t let guilt keep you down.”
She exhaled slowly. “Okay, sir…” She picked up the call. “Hello?”
A male voice came through. “Good afternoon, Sister Tijesunimi.”
“Who is this, please?”
“I am Femi Bamiwo.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Professor Bamiwo’s son?”
“Yes, I am.”
She swallowed hard. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“Please, I am sorry for what my father has done to you. This is a big one. I hope you will be able to forgive him.”
Tijesunimi closed her eyes, her spirit now settled. “God settled it already. We are the ones who prayed that God should use us, but sometimes we forget that He can choose to use us in any way He desires. Now, your father is a child of God. I believe. That alone is a testimony.”
Femi sighed in relief. “Exactly. Wow, thank God for your depth in the Spirit.”
“It is God.”
“Please, I don’t know how possible it is to meet with you again today.”
She hesitated. “Oh, hope there’s no issue?”
“No, not at all. I come with a good heart. I just want to have a few words with you.”
“Must it be today?”
“Well, I would be glad if it could be. I have only a few days left in the country.”
Tijesunimi bit her lip, contemplating. “Well, I’m not sure yet. Can I get back to you?”
“Okay, I will be waiting for your call.”
After ending the call, the Pastor smirked. “Please, young woman, what are you doing? You’re acting busy. At thirty-one years old, you are forming busy? Continue. We will be here to console you.”
Tijesunimi laughed lightly before redialing Femi’s number. “Hello?”
“Where do we meet? I’m free at the moment.”
“I will come and pick you up wherever you are.”
“Okay, I will be at the school gate in five minutes.”
“Okay, I will be there.”
As she ended the call, the Pastor chuckled. “Ha! You called him back ni.”
Tijesunimi rolled her eyes playfully. “Leave me jor. One cannot do small shakara?”
The Pastor laughed. “I laugh o! Be doing your shakara. Something that is clearly arranged by God. You still want to do shakara?”
She exhaled and picked up her bag. “Hmmm… Off I go, sir.”
“No, don’t go. Stay with me,” he teased. “My wife is on her way. We are hanging out. Be there telling me ‘off you go.’ Please freshen your face before you go to him, o.”
As Tijesunimi left the church, a smile played on her lips. She had almost lost herself, but God’s mercy had found her. And now, she was walking into something new, something divine.
To God be the glory.
Dear Readers,
Thank you for taking the time to read this Holy Spirit inspired novel SAME GOD. Your interest and engagement with this story mean the world to us. Writing this novel was a journey of meditation on God’s word, reflection, and inspiration, and knowing that it has reached you is incredibly fulfilling. Your support inspires me to keep creating Holy Spirit filled stories that captivate the mind and stir the heart. We deeply appreciate your thoughts, feedback, and the moments you’ve spent with this work. Thank you for being a part of this journey. I look forward to sharing more stories with you in the future!
We hope this message finds you well. We are writing to humbly seek your financial support for our novel, SAME GOD. And future creative endeavors. Writing this story has been a transformative journey, and we are committed to bringing more meaningful and impactful stories to life. However, continuing this work requires resources.
Your support would go a long way in helping us cover publishing and creating more contents. Any contribution, no matter the size, would be deeply appreciated and would make a significant difference in our ability to sustain and grow as a ministry.
If you’re able and willing to assist, please let us know how we can discuss this further. We are more than happy to provide more details or explore any other ways we might collaborate to achieve this goal.
Thank you so much for considering our request and for your continued encouragement. Your belief in our ministry is what motivates us to keep writing and sharing stories with the world.
Warm regards,
Wordcredo Productions
+2347060643211 [whatsapp]
It is our belief at WORDCREDO PRODUCTIONS that you have been blessed. There are other spirit filled novel still available. Click on the bellow.




Comment