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10:25 AM
is just one side of the story. A lady named Ese
Walter (pictured above) is accusing a pastor with
the Common Wealth Of Zion Assembly of
manipulating her sexually/spiritually. I'm hoping to
get the pastor's side of the story later...that's if
he's willing to talk. Read Ese's story, which she
shared on her blog, below...
This article contains stories that most ‘church
people’ don’t want to address. So, if you are
one of those living in denial and covering up
crap going on in the church, this is where you
should stop reading. Thanks for stopping by.
Now, for the rest of us, please sit down and
switch on your open mind. I want to talk about
something I have kept bottled up inside for
longer than necessary. I have also decided to
use real names, as my defense for any
accusation of slander is justification. I tell the
truth, the whole truth and nothing but.
However, feel free to throw your doubt around
but know that I am past the shaming game
(where victims of abuse are shot down by
blame) I am no longer a victim but a survivor
who is sharing her experience to help others
caught in same web of abuse, guilt and shame.
We only get to live once right? So here, it
goes…
I recently came to know this event too was abuse
(recently here means about 6 months ago). It has
literally been eating me up having to drive by
another billboard advertising preachers, or hearing
his name, or even trying to ask about the validity
of the entire salvation story and whether or not
there is a God that truly watches over his people.
That being said, I’m just going to say it as it is.
This is a recap of my affair with Pastor Biodun
Fatoyinbo of COZA (Common Wealth Of Zion
Assembly) Abuja chapter. This affair I have come
to know as a form of abuse as you would see the
different elements of abuse very present.
I met Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo many years ago. I
was getting bored of the church I was attending
and someone suggested COZA. At the time, I had
never heard about it. My friend said, go there, I’m
sure you would enjoy the word. But he also gave
me a strong warning. He said he would advice
that I remain a member only and not join the
workforce. I agreed. The first time I attended
COZA, I felt it was my church and decided I was
going to plant my ass there. About eleven months
had gone by and I was still attending the services
quietly and faithfully. I really did like the church.
One day a worker in the church approached me
that the senior pastor wanted to see me.
Me? I thought. Why would the senior pastor want
to see me? Not the second man but the head
nigga in charge? Ok na! I started to think my sin
was oozing so bad the pastor could tell I needed
Jesus. (Poor old me.) I saw him at the end of the
second service (they had two services at the time)
and he said to me that he would like me to work
with him. I knew I had no intentions of becoming a
pastor so I had to ask in what capacity. He said
he’d like for me to join a department, preferably
the Pastoral Care Unit (PCU).
A few weeks later, against my friend’s advice not
to join the workforce, I was a PCU member. All of
a sudden, I had some status in church. I was
‘somebody.’ Dress had to be on point, hair, shoes
and what not… As workers, we were literally
trying to outshine each other or so it seemed.
Anyways, I felt like I was a privileged member of
an elite circle. Hehehe. (It did feel good though,
for the most part.)
About a year after joining the workforce, I was on
my way to London for a Masters degree program
that would last two years. As was the rule for
workers travelling, I wrote to say I would be away
for 2 years and Pastor Biodun Fotoyinbo asked
that I keep in touch by sending him my number
and email when I had settled in London so he
“makes sure I continue in the faith” because
according to him, people loose their faith when
they leave home and he wanted to make sure I
didn’t. So, on that note, as soon as I got a phone
line in London, I was sure to call ‘my pastor’ to
say I arrived safe, had settled in and also gave my
phone number.
We had spoken a few times especially when COZA
started to stream online. I always watched and
would give feedback on quality of production and
share a little bit on the challenges I faced settling
in a new land. One evening, Pastor Biodun
Fatoyinbo called me that he was coming to
London and needed me to help him make some
hotel bookings as the person who was meant to
do it couldn’t get it done (this was rather strange
as I had never been involved in his travel
itinerary) Later that day, he said it had been
sorted and my help would not be required but that
he would like me to arrange a cab to pick him up
from Heathrow. I was happy to help my pastor
from Nigeria and even saw it as a privilege. (I
would later come to learn that all of this was a
calculated attempt to hatch a plan that I suspect
was set in motion when I was asked to join the
workforce.)
The cab guy was there to get him the next day
and when he arrived, he called to ask why I didn’t
accompany the cab to pick him up (again, this
was strange but I stopped my mind from
overanalyzing the situation as I knew I had no
business with his visit to London) About two hours
later, he called me and said he would like to see
me. When I arrived his hotel, I called from the
reception but he asked that I come upstairs. I got
to the room and tried to stop my mind from
thinking why I was going to his room. As he
opened the door and invited me in, I had to speak
to my heart to stop its palpitations. My better
judgment asked me not to go into the room but
the kind of reverence I had for Pasotr Biodun
Fatoyinbo bordered on fear and I steeped into that
room.
“Care for a drink?” Asked Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo.
“No sir,” I said.
“You don’t have to be shy Ese, even if it’s alcohol,
feel free and order what you want.” I wasn’t sure I
heard my pastor asking me to order alcohol. I
imagined it was a test and ignored the voice
inside that was saying, “I’d have henny and coke
please.” He proceeded to ask how I had been
coping in London and if I was a committed
member of any church. He also said he thought
there was something special about me and
wanted to know that I had not strayed from my
faith. I really thought he had heard I was doing
something I shouldn’t while in London but tried my
best to focus on the conversation instead of my
straying thoughts. He kept telling me to relax and
feel comfortable with talking to him. After a few
minutes, he asked that we go to the roof of the
hotel as his room was a pent suite and had a
connecting door to the roof.
While there, he sat on a reclining chair and asked
me to come sit on his laps. This was a bit
awkward for me and I froze for a moment as I
asked why. He said he had told me to feel free
with him and loosen up. I found myself strolling to
sit on his laps. At that moment, I felt like a little
girl who was experiencing something her mind
couldn’t fathom. He asked me to kiss him and all I
could think about was seeing him preach on the
pulpit back in COZA Abuja, Nigeria, which was my
home church. He again said ‘feel free Ese.’ And
asked again, that I kiss him.
A few hours later, let’s just say, we were rolling
under the sheets. It felt as though my mind had
paused. I am not saying I was jazzed, (although
it’s possible I was in some trancelike state and
didn’t know it but I just was so afraid that I
couldn’t say or think otherwise.) That was the
beginning of this affair. A sexual affair that went
on for a little over a week, DAILY!
I can hear somebody’s mind thinking, ‘well, you
weren’t raped.” And I remember a pastor I opened
up to when I couldn’t take all the mind games
asking if I seduced him. No, I didn’t seduce him
and no, I wasn’t raped but I felt trapped in this
affair. Come to think of it, how could I have
seduced him when I wanted nothing from him? I
mean, I was too busy minding my business in
London trying to get through with my masters
program and I was overly comfortable. And even if
I wanted to seduce anyone, it wouldn’t be a
married man, not to mention a married pastor.
What I couldn’t reconcile the whole time, was how
the same person who preached against the very
things we were doing (i.e drinking in pubs,
fornicating, committing adultery) was the same
person endorsing and encouraging it.
At some point, I got really confused about what
Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo and I were doing that I
had to ask how he handles it. I will never forget
what he said to me. He said and I quote, “I will
teach you a level of grace that you don’t
understand.” My mind couldn’t fathom that
somehow grace was enough covering for not just
fornication on my path, adultery on his path and
the many lies that was bound to follow what we
were doing that was clearly abominable. I
somehow dealt with the thoughts and fears that
followed on my path. He had said to me that he
wanted me to be his girlfriend and he would take
me around the world and spoil me with money
and things. Somehow, money had never been one
of the things that motivated me (I am from a
home where all my needs have been adequately
met) In all my ‘badness’ through finding myself, I
never did things I did for money but more of
rebellion against rules and authority.
Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo also said to me that he
had a dream where I exposed what was
happening to the media. Said it was all over the
place and that people were calling me the girl that
caused chaos in COZA. He also said I should
remember the bible said to “touch not God’s
anointed.” I immediately started to rebuke the
devil and said I could never do anything like that. I
was almost swearing with my entire family as I
thought really I had touched God’s anointed by
submitting my body to be used. Little did I know
at the time that all of these were ways to mess
with my mind and even manipulate my thoughts.
Fast-forward a few months later, I was back in
Nigeria and my church had become
uncomfortable. Anytime I sat in church and
listened to Pastor Biodun preach, I felt shame. I
finally sent him a message saying I wasn’t
comfortable anymore. I was confused and needed
to talk about what had happened. He said I should
meet him to talk and I did. It was a really weird
meeting for me especially when he tried to kiss
me at our meeting. I finally realized at this point
that he couldn’t help me. I thought God was angry
with me and I couldn’t pray so I decided to
withdraw completely from COZA. This was the
beginning of my mental torture. I couldn’t talk to
my family because already, I was the only one
attending a different church and somehow my
mom never liked the idea. As the days went by I
tried to use drinking and smoking to cover up the
deep shame and guilt I was battling with. But as
soon as the high was over, the thoughts came
back and I felt stuck like I couldn’t move forward.
I felt I had to talk to someone and I decided to
speak to my then good friend, Ernest Akale but
unfortunately for me, Mr. Ernest did not have the
capacity to hold what I said to him. He broke
down completely the days that followed and I
found myself having to pause how I was feeling
and what I was struggling with to help my friend
be strong. After a while, he withdrew from not just
me but his then fiancé and friends. I had to then
tell the fiancé what had caused it (she suspected
we were having an affair so I had to clear the air)
To my surprise she was a lot stronger than her
man and told me to suck it up (I’m paraphrasing).
She said if she were me, she wouldn’t leave the
church but stay to torment Pastor Biodun and
collect money from him. Ok! That sounded
extreme for me, as my intention was not to
blackmail but to heal my broken self. Anyways, I
finally found the courage to speak to my then unit
head who said he was going to talk to Pastor
Biodun but didn’t have the liver to do so. Before
long, the story was spreading and naturally
getting twisted.
I went to a new church and it seemed like the
COZA bug had chased me there. The pastor would
always refer to COZA as some example and each
time that was done, it seemed like a spear was
thrust through my chest. One day, I broke down in
the service and started crying uncontrollably, as I
couldn’t take another mention of COZA and the
pictures it painted in my head.
Very long, boring story cut short, for the last 5
months I gave the whole church thing a big space
and break. I wasn’t sure I believed in God. I wasn’t
sure I understood what it meant when people said
‘Jesus saves” and I definitely wasn’t sure how to
deal with the mental torture that was affecting not
just me but my relationships with family and
friends. I was very unstable, fearful and worst of
all guilty. I got a chance to talk to Pastor Folarin of
COZA Lagos Chapter, popularly called Pastor flo
about everything. I made an effort to reach out to
him because I realized the right thing to do was
talk to an elder in the church and seek some sort
of remedy to a wrong I believed had been done
me.
Instead, Pastor Flo said, Pastor Biodun had
confessed to him and they had ‘talked’ about it
and somehow that was supposed to be Ok. He
asked what it was I wanted coming to talk to him
about it when I did, I told him I realized what
happened between Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo and I
was wrong and not just that I felt abused and
manipulated. I also said I thought it was wrong for
Pastor Biodun to go on preaching without taking
time to deal with his personal character flaws. I
said I thought he was danger to all the young
women that attended the church. Come to think
of it, maybe he meant if I wanted something
monetary or material (as someone had suggested
when I opened up to her) but the truth is, I never
wanted his money (or is it the church member’s
money.) All I wanted was to meet with him and
have him accept that he misled me, betrayed his
wife and the church he pastors. I wasn’t the only
lady in COZA who had been a victim of his
sexcapades and manipulative patterns but I was
the one who could come back after months of
struggle with not just my faith but also my affair
with him. And I wanted to set things right. I
wanted to talk to Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo maybe
for closure and I felt like I needed an apology
because he played the “touch not my anointed”
card to keep me locked in guilt, shame and fear
when all along it was a calculated plan and I dare
say, it started when he asked me to join the
workforce.
Not to mention the audacity to talk about teaching
me a level of grace I didn’t understand. I had no
intention of understanding a grace that would
permit me to go on doing things that were wrong
and what’s worse having to carry the burden for
almost a year.
Different surprising advises came up in the weeks
that followed the rumour making rounds. I was
told to hush because Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo had
been a cultist in the past and could send people to
shut me up. All my so-called friends in COZA
withdrew from me and treated me like I had the
plague. What was worse was Pastor Flo finally saw
my then pastor to ‘talk’ about what had happened
with Pastor Biodun and lied that it happened once
and was a mistake. My question then became, ‘do
these people even care how broken I had
become?’ ’do they care about the emotional and
spiritual welfare of the people they were
pastoring?’ The sad answer was NO. Most of us old
members of COZA kept leaving but they couldn’t
care less. What was important was to keep
growing the church and having more and more
cars with stickers that read “More than enough.”
Back then, I always felt horrible when I saw
another car drive past me with the sticker. I was
breaking, I was struggling but no one could help.
All they could do was ask me to hide so Pastor
Biodun’s goons don’t hurt me. And then the
interesting one was if I had evidence to prove my
claim. Let me just say here that, it isn’t a claim,
it’s a confession to free me from all of the guilt
and shame I have had to live with for no reason at
all. (That being said, I have evidence to prove all I
have said here, the latest being a 58 minutes
recording of my meeting with Pastor Flo a few
months back)
This is my confession and I cannot begin to
describe how much weight has been lifted off of
my shoulders just pouring the truth out about
what went down. So, to all my ex COZA friends
gossiping about me, get your facts right. To those
who said they’d help me deal with the pain but
didn’t, I forgive you, I have learnt how to deal with
it and I am doing just fine. To those who fear for
my safety saying Pastor Biodun would send people
to shut me up, I really have gone past fearing for
my life. To live is gain and to die is Christ (or how
does Paul say it again?) And to the only person
who ever supported me through it all, thank you, I
am learning to be brave. Please don’t think I am
perfect in all of this but in line with living my
authentic life and putting all forms of abuse
behind me, this is where I press the stop button
and stop the bleeding. This is where I break the
silence and call the church to stand up for what it
has been commissioned to do. If you will not enter
the Kingdom, please don’t stop others who are
trying to enter.
I still remember when I used to nurse the idea of
digging up emails, text messages, hotel billings
(as once I used my card to pay for his room when
his master card failed to work) to prove there was
an affair. It was pathetic. Why for the love of
heaven was I trying to dig up evidence? I am
satisfied setting the record straight. I am ready for
any shaming or bashing that would follow because
the truth is, because of what I have suffered and
come through, I am really not moved by what
people say or think about me anymore. I am a
stronger woman and a damn abuse survivor
seeking to connect with other victims of abuse to
show them how to deal with the shame, hurt and
guilt and how to come out stronger. Turning their
mess into their message.
I am Ese Walter and I have gone through all forms
of abuse from family, boyfriends, my ex pastor
and some strangers not to break me, but so I
stand and so I qualify to help victims. My scars
have qualified me and when all is said and done, I
will still be standing. I AM WOMAN, I BEND, I
DON’T BREAK!
Cheers to the freaking weekend!!!
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