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ibilenews · 4 years

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End of the road for woman used by ‘pastors’ to perform fake miracles

• How IGP Intelligence Team Arrested Her

A 44-year-old woman, Mrs. Bose Olasukanmi who was used by several ‘fraudulent’ pastors to perform fake miracle has been arrested by operatives of the Inspector General of police Intelligence Response Team (IRT) in Lagos after months of trail on her by the undercover operatives. According to a source close to IRT, the suspect Olasukanmi used to relocate to another church after being paid for every successful performance so that their trick would not be exposed by people or relations who may see her in the drama. Her relatives would not be able to reach her to find out whether she is the Olasukanmi they know or somebody who resembles her.Her first performance was at a Lagos Church followed by a church in Port Harcourt and the church in Abakaliki before the cat was let out of the bag.

When the bubble burst, the suspect Olasukanmi went into hiding while the fraudulent pastors quickly made a video of how and when they were performing the fake miracle, which looked real to the unsuspecting congregation as they watch her being healed by the pastors. “Once she enters the stage, she would pretend that the broken right arm had been hanging and all medical efforts to heal her in both orthodox and native hospitals proved abortive until one of her friends, who is a member of the church advised her to try the church. “At this point, one of the ministering pastor or the general overseer would step forward and demonstrate as if the Holy Spirit had entered him. After speaking in tongues for some minutes, he would order the woman to come very close to him while the congregation would be silent anxiously waiting to see the broken right arm that have been hanging.

“The pastor would ask the woman: Do you want to be healed? Have you been born again? If she answers in the negative, he then led her to Christ in prayer. He would then order the evil spirit that bent her arm to depart and be destroyed by fire. As he is ordering the evil spirit to depart, the hanging broken right arm will be coming back gradually to its form until it is completely stretched down and normal and he would ask the congregation to praise the lord. While the congregation is busy praising God, one of the church members whose role is to take the woman away, would appear and whisk her away. “This drama would make the congregation to increase in the next service as the people who witnessed the fake miracle would spread the news when they get home”, the police source said. The increase in the congregation, the source further revealed, would increase the revenue they would make from church offering including the seed sowing the desperate victims would make to get their own miracle. The amount often demanded as seed offering ranged from N20, 000 to N50, 000 or more. Some would even donate their best cars without knowing that the miracle is a scam. Worried by the failure of the various law enforcement agents, information regarding the nefarious activities of the pastors was given to the commander of the Inspector General of police Intelligence Response Team, a Deputy Commissioner of police, DCP. Abba Kyari who directed the Southwest coordinator, a Chief Superintendent of Police to fish out the woman to be able to intercept the fraudulent pastors, church workers and others who played roles in the scam.

When operatives of the team swung into action, the woman Mrs. Olasukanmi was arrested and brought to Lagos and she confessed to the crime and promised police that she would lead them to the pastors and all the people who played different roles in the scam to regain her freedom. Speaking with newsmen, Olasukanmi said, “I am from Ilesha, Osun State. I am married. I had three children. Unfortunately, two died few hours after delivery. My husband loved me so much that he did not want me to do anything. He wanted me to be a housewife and he had been honouring my request and he treated me like a queen. “Unfortunately, when he died, my life changed and I started suffering as everybody abandoned me. Though I had my primary school certificate, the only work available at the time was to go and serve a food seller at least, to be sure of daily bread. When the suffering became unbearable, I decided to relocate to Lagos for a greener pasture in 1989. Unfortunately, in 1990, I lost my mother and I went back home to give my caring mother the last respect. “After the burial of my mother I came back to Lagos and secured a job in a food restaurant in Surulere area of Lagos without salary as Food Assistant. However the owner of the food center allows me to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner as I liked. Even customers sometimes gave me tip, which I used to buy soap to wash my clothes, body cream and personal need. I did not save a dime but it helped me a lot.

“I worked for 9years without salary and I had no alternative than to start planning on how to open my own food center or even food hawking in Surulere. Unfortunately for me, as I was walking on the road, one evening, a vehicle from nowhere had a break failure hit me to the ground and broke my right arm and left leg.

“I had no money to treat myself as the driver that hit me abandoned me later. Life became hard for me, as I had stopped living with my sister before I had the accident. I lost my husband in October 2018 and this made me to go and live with my sister, but when I secured this food-selling job, I relocated by renting a room in the same Surulere area.

“After the accident, everyone abandoned me and I had no money to continue to pay for a room. It was under this condition that I met a woman friend in 2008. Her name is Fatila Musa. She used to give me money to eat and ameliorate my suffering. One day she took me to her church and told me that the church had a two-month programme that would start from September to October and she would like me to accompany her. “When I accepted, she told me that I should use what I have to get what I want. I did not understand what she meant by using what I have as woman to get what I want considering what the accident had done to my body. She then told me that what I have can help me to get what I wanted and that that gift I have is my broken right arm. “I then asked her how? She said she would teach me how to carry my hand and how to bring it down in such a way that the congregation would believe me and when I collect the money for the role I played, it will be reasonable to start my life. “After a one-day rehearsal, she took me to a pastor at Calvary Close, Ogba area of Lagos.She said the name of the church is Radiant Army Deliverance Ministry a.k.a Anthony Anthony.

“The first day I performed, I got N9, 000. Life became sweet as the pastors were happy with my performance, but when people started gossiping that police may raid the place one day, the pastor told members to be carrying me away fast anytime I finish my performance. “When the suspicion became too much, they started substituting my role with video recorded performance. In 2009 she carried me to a church in Port Harcourt. I performed in three churches in the three days we stayed there. The same year, we moved to Abakiliki area of Ebonyi State. “I am a moslem, but the pastor, prophet Goffrey Abbey would only ask me to bring my hand down and I will start bringing it down as if his power was the thing bringing it down and be jumping up in joy to the deceit of the congregation who often clapped with joy and praising God for the miracle. I cannot remember the names of all the churches she took me to because their names were not disclosed to me. “When I was in Lagos, she used to come and carry me in my rented one room apartment at Igando area of Lagos but in Port Harcourt and Abakaliki, she puts me in one of the rooms in the church premises. The performance in Port Harcourt was in Borikkiiri area.

After 9:00.am, I would follow Fatila to wherever she wanted us to go and sleep. She never used me for prostitution”. She added: “I lost my conscience because suffering weakened my sense of reasoning. I needed money to treat my hand and everybody abandoned me. I needed to feed myself. I needed to survive. ‘Though I want to be healed, but with this experience, it would be hard for me to believe any pastor again. I don’t believe any pastor can heal me. If I see all the pastors involved in the scam with me, I will confront them. They cannot deny me. If I see the woman, Fatila that carried me to them, I will hold her. I won’t mind the help she rendered to me because she used me to make money also and paid me peanuts.

“My only regret is that I knew that it was a fake miracle performance, which deceived many genuine children of God and enriched the fake miracle performing pastors and prophets.

It is this same fake miracle performance I was involved in that made my father to get stroke when he heard that they were using me to make money.”She hinted: “In the first performance I got N9, 000, second performance N7, 000, third performance N10, 000. In Port Harcourt I got N10, 000, N7, 000 and N15, 000 while in Abakaliki, I performed only once before IRT operatives stormed there and whisked me from where Fatila hid me. If I regain my freedom, I will not do it again. I will look for genuine business to do. “My advice to people who go to church is that they should open their eyes well and know the type of church they are worshipping.If they are careful, they would discover on time whether they are in a genuine church or with fake pastors and prophets.”

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larissa-the-scribe · 2 months

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Terrarium Lights 3.4

Previously on Terrarium Lights: Gail got plot-twisted and now she's trying to do something to help about it. (Next part >>here)

Most of the other customers had already moved on, so the café was largely empty by the time Gail made it in.

Mrs. Mary Seward saw her as she came in, and waved at her.

They knew each other due to the annual festival held at the lighthouse, and because the Sewards had recently started attending Gail's church—though perhaps it was better to say that they were familiar with each other rather than knew each other. They had talked some, and were vaguely filled in on each others' circumstances, but they were little more than pleasant acquaintances who got along well at after-church lunches.

As such, Gail was both surprised and unsurprised that Mrs. Seward came out to serve her personally, instead of the worker that… did not seem to be there at the moment, actually. Odd. They typically made a point to employ some of the youngsters from the surrounding area.

"How are you doing, Mrs. Goffrey?" she said cordially, pulling a pad of paper out of the front of her apron and smiling pleasantly.

"The good Lord made the sun," Gail replied, sitting down at a hopefully private table further in the corner, "and it's shining as it ought. So I reckon I'm doing well. How about yourself?"

"Busy," Mrs. Seward laughed. "We've had to cut down on some of the days we have extra hands about the place, so it's a bit heavier on us. But business is good. Speaking of which, anything I can get you?"

"One coffee, please," Gail said, "black, no sugar. And if you have any fruit pastries, I think that would go with it well."

"Coming right up," Mrs. Seward confirmed, jotting down things on her pad. She whisked herself away to the kitchen, and left Gail to wonder how on Earth she was going to be able to learn what she needed to. Over-thinking was something she took pains to avoid, but at this precise moment it looked more like she hadn’t done any thinking at all. Another prayer, it seemed, would be in order.

Beside her, she noticed that Samuel had made his appearance, materializing through the doorway as if he had just walked in. He waved at her tentatively, then stuck his hands in his pockets.

Gail nodded at one of the other seats at her (admittedly) small table. Inwardly, she wondered how well she'd manage to deal with a sensitive conversation to someone she didn’t know very well, plus an involved spectator that only she could, but well, it would be rude not to invite him. Besides, it would rather cut down on time (and an elaborate game of mailcarrier) if he could just hear what was going on, himself, and not rely on her second-hand summaries.

He hovered near the table but didn't take a seat.

The last customer (presumably belonging to the one remaining gearmount out front) carried their cup and plate to the kitchen counter, and left with a merry jingling of the café bell.

It wasn't long before Mrs. Seward returned with one of her fruit dumplings and a cup of steaming coffee.

"There you go," she said, sliding the plate onto the table. "Made fresh this afternoon."

"Thank you, Mrs. Seward," Gail replied. The smell of warm dough and fruit—mango, she'd guess—mingling with the strong, bitter smell of the coffee struck her stomach with the force of realization: she hadn't brought any extra food, and she was hungry after having walked this far. "It looks delicious."

Mrs. Seward smiled politely. "Thank you."

Gail patted the table, indicating the seat across from her. "Sit, get off your feet a bit. There aren't any other customers here, and if any new ones come in, you'll see them fine."

Mrs. Seward hesitated.

"How about this," Gail said, "I order one more of the dumplings, and you get a snack out of it, too."

Mrs. Seward coughed a surprised laugh. "I couldn't take your money for food for me to eat in my own café."

"Nonsense," Gail retorted. "I couldn't ask you to sit and share your valuable time with me and not reimburse you fairly. We don't get time to talk often, and I haven't had much opportunity for socialization or chatting with Michael gone."

"Well…" Mrs. Seward sighed. "I suppose that's true. And if I need to get up and working, I'll be able to get back on my feet right quick."

"Of course. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you longer that you’d want."

Mrs. Seward’s smile felt less polite and more genuine. "I'll be just a second."

Gail exerted a great deal of self-control and did not scarf down the entirety of the (thankfully large) dumpling before Mrs. Seward got back.

"Ahhhh." Mrs. Seward sank down into the seat opposite, thin cheeks flushed from the warmth of the ovens in the kitchen. "I will admit, sitting down does feel nice."

"You seem to be quite hard at work," Gail agreed. "Why are the part-timers off-duty?"

"We're needing to save a bit more money just now," Mrs. Seward said, slicing into the dumpling neatly.

Gail was already several forkfulls ahead of her. "Oh? Is the lighthouse not doing so well? Repairs of some kind?"

"No, all of that's going well," she said. Now that she was sitting down and eating, her early reticence had dissipated. "Something else happened that is quite a miracle, so I'm very grateful for it, though at this exact moment it's a bit difficult."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's all a bit strange, but a close friend of my son's showed up again after having gone missing for six years, and we've been needing to pay the doctor to be here regular, since he hasn't woken up for the past three or so weeks."

Gail nearly spat out her coffee. Apparently, she had not needed to be concerned about information.

It, belatedly, occurred to Gail that if something big and surprising had happened—such as a young man appearing at the lighthouse one day—she would likely have had more trouble avoiding the topic than not. She bit down onto her fork with enthusiasm and general gratitude.

Wait.

"Your son?"

"You’re familiar with the annual remembrance festival, right?" Mrs. Seward replied, giving her a quizzical look.

"Well, yes," Gail replied. "We've only been attending since a few years ago, but yes. A festival of remembrance for those lost at sea, and for those brought home again, right?"

Mrs. Seward chuckled a bit, taking a delicate bite of her neatly sliced up dumpling. "Well, it actually isn't specified where they were lost. Your son was lost at sea, though, wasn't he?"

"Aye. David."

"We lost our son six years ago, but it was under unknown circumstances. The next year we wanted to give something back to the community that helped us through such a difficult time, so, in honor of him and those around us who we knew who had also suffered losses, we started the festival of remembrance."

"O-oh." Gail found she didn't have much of an answer.

"But, well, we still haven't found our son. We may never." She pushed her fork slowly into the dumpling, contemplating it. "But, again, we never thought we'd find his friend again, either, so there may be hope yet."

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