A young person born into voodooism finds freedom and healing.

I grew up surrounded by the ancient, superstitious beliefs of voodooism. In my village, misfortune was never considered random or coincidental. Every illness, accident or hardship was believed to be a sign that someone had angered the spirits of their deceased ancestors. We lived in constant fear of these spirits—fear that one wrong move, one forgotten ritual, one careless word would invite disaster. From childhood, I was taught that the only way to avoid their wrath—or to end their torment—was to visit the local witchman. With the right offering, the witchman could supposedly intercede with the spirits and perform rituals and cast spells to keep them at bay. But the cost was high. If one did not bring gifts regularly, the spirits might turn on them again. Thus, our lives were ruled by fear and manipulation.

I had several encounters with Christians, but I never gave them a chance. Instead, I mocked them. I didn’t believe in God. I saw no difference between religious people and the witchdoctors who controlled our village through fear.

In my first year of secondary school, I became seriously ill. No hospital treatment seemed to work. As my condition worsened, my parents turned to the only source that they trusted—the witchman. The witchman told my father that I was being pursued by angry spirits. When he suggested sacrificing to appease the spirits, we followed every instruction faithfully. Still, my condition didn’t improve. I was growing weaker and more hopeless with every passing day.

At one point, I thought I was going to die. I was having repeated attacks and could barely get out of bed. It was during this low point that a man visited my house. He handed me a small pamphlet and said, “Read this. We’ll talk more the next time I see you.” That man was Pastor Jonas.

Curious, I read the pamphlet. It talked about healthy living (something I knew nothing about). From that day forward, I began to make small changes—cutting out unclean meats, eating more simply, and following the advice Pastor Jonas shared.

Amazingly, my health began to improve. The strength I had lost started to return, and the attacks grew less frequent. For the first time in years, I felt hope. There was a hunger inside of me that I could not explain, a hunger to know more about what God was saying in His Word. As Pastor Jonas and I studied together, I learned about a loving God who cared for me—not a god who punished or manipulated, but One who wanted to heal, restore and save me. I learned that I no longer had to live in fear of dead ancestors or angry spirits, for His power was greater than any darkness.

The prayers and support of my new church family helped me through the final stages of recovery. And today, I am healthy. I’m no longer under the grip of fear. I’ve surrendered my life to Jesus, and He has given me peace, purpose and healing.

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Location
Togo

Author
Told by Passike to Agamah Balakibawi, a district pastor in the Kara region of Togo.

How You Can Help
Pray for Passike as he witnesses to the healing power of Christ in his life. 

Pray for the eight Bible workers as they seek out those who are searching for the truth. 

Donate to the evangelistic work in Togo by sending your gift marked “Togo Evangelism” to: 

Mission Projects International 
PO Box 237 
Kirksville, MO 63501

To give securely online, visit:
www.missionspro.org/donate

Thank you. Your gifts sustain eight full-time Bible workers and one full-time evangelist who are bringing God’s last warning to Togo. Thank you so much for your support of these workers!