GOD DIDN'T GIVE BIRTH TO SCHIZOS

Even boli vendors will be judged on the last day!

My lecturer yelled at me from the front of the classroom. It wasn’t the intensity of his voice that shook me; it was his words: “You will die and go to hellfire if you don’t stop this useless behavior.”

Schizo, from Schizophrenia, is a chronic, severe mental disorder that affects the way a person thinks, acts, expresses emotions, perceives reality, and relates to others. At least that’s what Google says it is.

I think it happens to us when we begin to think of ourselves as more important, more deserving than others.

We fall into this state of thinking that we are more honoured and better qualified than other people. We let our ego inflate and our humility diminish, creating a distorted view of our worth and place in the world.

When this feeling or emotion goes deep into our hearts and minds, it begins to corrupt our perspective, distorting reality in ways that can lead us down a perilous path.

I really couldn’t blame Mr. Olushola, he was stuck in the schizo phase.

Here’s what happened, he had been invited by the excos of our departmental fellowship to share (his own version of) the word with us. A fellowship that I never attended until I got to my final year.

I wasn’t fond of Mr. Olushola being the patron of the fellowship, nor did I have much regard for the previous patron. Though he (the former patron) held the title of pastor, I had come to realize by then that it was just that, a title.

The former patron was a lover of the bottle, could drink anything as long as it wasn’t water or soda and served chilled. He was also our HOD at the time and rumour had it that he was a sharp-shooter.

He died just a few months after our matriculation so we didn’t know so much about him, but we had heard a lot of unpleasant stories.

When he died, they made the next pastor pretender, a secret womanizer, the patron. I for one, didn’t think the fellowship excos did their due diligence before making him the patron, or maybe they did and just wanted to be in his good graces.

The essence of Mr. Olushola’s sermon was to emphasize that wearing makeup, hair extensions, nail enhancements, and trousers was a severe sin warranting eternal damnation.

However, his words and conduct fell far short of embodying the qualities of a true pastor, leaving a notably negative impression.

I glanced around and noticed I was the only female in the fellowship; the rest of the attendees were the boys from my classroom. It struck me that even the girls who avoided wearing trousers, makeup, or extensions were absent.

My friends had outright refused to attend the meeting that Friday afternoon. However, I had resolved to deepen my commitment to God as I approached my final year, so skipping it wasn’t an option for me.

After Mr. Schizo Olushola finished his so-called sermon, he left the classroom with a smug expression, accompanied by one of the brothers.

When the fellowship concluded, I approached one of the executives and expressed my frustration. I told him how appalling the sermon was and how inviting a lecturer who hid his questionable actions behind the title of 'pastor' was a monumental mistake.

I could tell the executives were deeply embarrassed by the situation; they couldn’t even look me in the eye as I spoke to them. One of them even apologized.

The purpose of this letter is to remind you of who you are and to remind me of who I truly am. God didn’t give birth to schizos.

Why must I be plagued by ‘mis-identity?’

Many of us, our lives in Church on Sunday is nice and holy. We look and act like Jesus. We raise our hands to His holy name during worship, we even cry when the song gets too emotional.

We dress prim and proper to Church, our edges are well laid and our shoes will shined. We kiss Church members with a holy kiss, we even manage to keep up appearances even during cell meetings or house fellowship on Sunday evening.

But when we get home that evening or to our workplace on Monday, we are cougars such that even the devil gets confused.

Pastors are also guilty of this double-standards. I once heard a story about a pastor's wife who broke down in tears on the altar right after a church service ended. She was crying uncontrollably.

Concerned church members rushed to her, asking what was wrong, but she wouldn’t say a word. Her tears kept flowing, and eventually, they had to call her husband, the senior pastor. When he arrived, he gently led her away from the altar. Through her sobs, she finally managed to say, “I want the man on the altar, not the man at home.”

Cougars!

Some years ago, two of my former Church members got into a heated altercation just as the service was ending. It escalated quickly, they grabbed each other by the clothes, ready to throw punches.

Our pastors tried to intervene, but neither of them would back down. After what felt like an eternity, the crowd managed to pull them apart, and they stormed off in opposite directions, but not before exchanging harsh insults and hurling unthinkable words at each other.

I stood there, utterly stunned, first, because they were part of excos of the church. Second, because they were my friends, and we were part of the same Bible study and prayer group. And third, because one of them had led the opening prayers, and it had been nothing short of powerful.

Could the fight have been avoided? Yes, was the fight avoided? No.

Instead of aligning with what the word says in Romans 8:19, we are exchanging blows in Church.

If you study the Bible, particularly the Gospels, three core attributes of Jesus Christ stand out.

📍 He was focused

📍 He knew who He was

📍 He had no time for nonsense

Jesus Christ didn’t suffer from a mistaken identity. He wasn’t the Son of God on the Sabbath and an hustling Israeli on other days. He was who He was everyday.

The Bible declares that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and forever.

You can’t be a Christian on Sunday and a muddlehead on the remaining six days, you’d kill yourself. God didn’t give birth to schizos.

Recently, I’ve been fascinated by ID Cabasa, the notable young man who produced the famous artistes 9ice, Olamide, and a few others. Did you know he was a Christian?

Two years ago, I attended an event for Christian creatives where he was a speaker. Later, I heard him again at a Christian concert I attended. Most recently, he delivered a powerful speech at ELC 2024. I was blown away!

ID Cabasa has excelled remarkably in the secular music industry while staying true to his values. He gave his life to Christ shortly after starting university and has remained steadfast in his faith ever since, with no scandals to his name.

I once heard that he had a unique rule: any of his artists planning to release an album had to fast and pray every morning and night before the release. It’s no surprise they became such renowned artists.

God can only use you to the level at which you make yourself useful. He didn’t give birth to schizophrenias, He certainly won’t use one for His deeds here on earth. God is not an author of confusion.

On the day of reckoning, you will only account as one person. Not as a Christian and business owner separately. You’ve only got one life to live and that life consists in Christ. You are one person in His sight.

You will show your work, you will account for all that you are and all that you do on the day of judgment.

Even unbelievers grasp this concept. One day, right at the junction of the popular Nigerian church, Daystar Christian Center, I stopped to buy boli from a vendor. I overheard her telling another woman that she had to account for every piece of boli she sold because Daystar had given her the funds to start the business.

She was meticulous about tracking each kobo because she knew the church leadership would hold her accountable for the business.

We will all be held accountable for our work. Will yours reflect integrity, or will it be tainted by double standards?

A man on my street made a wild decision to transform his church to a beer parlour on a whim. When people asked him why, he explained that the business of the church just wasn't thriving.

Rumor had it that the fridge, where he kept the ice-cold drinks, now stood in the very spot where the altar used to be.

If this isn’t madness, tell me what is.

Earlier this year, during our weekly house fellowship meetings, my friend received a standing ovation, and I received applause. As the teaching coordinator, it was my responsibility to appoint the person who would teach during the fellowship.

I decided to appoint my friend to teach that Sunday evening. After days of encouraging her and assuring her she could do it, she finally agreed to take the class, and she did so well that she earned a standing ovation.

The fellowship members then turned to me and clapped, and one of our sectional leaders said something I'll never forget. She said, "Sister Fisayo, I’m so glad you were able to bring your friend to not only join the fellowship but also deliver such an excellent teaching. This shows that you are truly a great woman of God, and you have friends who are following in your footsteps.

Mind=blown!

There’s a noticeable difference between an aboki who sells gold (those ones who chase after you on the street, trying to buy gold from you) and the one who collects used plastic bottles from the trash.

The gold seller understands his craft and knows the value of what he handles.

You must dress the part, but more importantly, you must be the part!

Selah!

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Hi there reader, if you are a Nigerian creative and you are concerned about what other creatives like you face just because we decided to live in this country, then you’ll love my podcast The Realities of a Nigerian Creative. Check it out here!

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