There are moments in life when God does not answer your prayers with things, explanations or opportunities. Sometimes He answers with a person and this is my story of how God answered me with a father.

This is the first time I am sharing this publicly, not to sensationalise pain but to give context to grace, to show how God restores men, not just situations.

When Everything Fell Apart

Friday, 20th October 2023, is a date I will never forget in a hurry. I was already at the Ibadan tollgate, on my way to Sagamu, when my world collapsed in ways I never imagined.

I lost ₦900,000 belonging to a client -money meant for a flight ticket after a scammer hacked a trusted WhatsApp line. Yet, the money was not the deepest wound.

What truly broke me was the sudden and hostile collapse of my relationship with my former senior pastor -a man who had trusted me with everything, adopted me as a son, paid my tuition through five years at the University of Ibadan (Distance Learning), ensured I returned to school after over eight years away, and opened doors that shaped my early adulthood, including my first trip to the United Kingdom.

When the conflict came, it came violently. Narratives were twisted. My siblings turned against me based on stories they were fed. My mother struggled, though her love ultimately prevailed.

I spent a night in police custody at Moniya Police Divisional Command -a miracle in itself, as plans had been perfected to detain me for much longer. Weeks later, my phone was seized at Sagamu Police Command. That, too, was another miracle, because the original plan was to detain me. I had to return days later to sign an undertaking before I could take possession of my phone again.

In a matter of weeks, I lost my then church family, my place of service, my work, my sense of identity, and almost my dignity. I left everything I had known, except the documents I had wisely moved to Ibadan earlier when I began to notice the pattern of things.

“Through it all, one instruction remained constant: never dishonour anyone.”

That instruction came from Prophet Usen M. J. Even while I was hurting, he insisted on honour. Today, I am grateful I obeyed.

How I Met My Prophet

I first encountered Prophet Usen M. J. in June 2021 at the SWAT Camp Meeting in Calabar, hosted by Dr. Valentine Oje. Upon my return, I visited Ile-Ife for Bible study at The SWAT Nations Church.

What I thought would be a brief visit became access -REAL ACCESS! The kind that sees you, not your usefulness.

That access led me to invite him to minister at my former church’s convention in August 2022, and he honoured the invitation. I invited him again in August 2023, and he was willing to attend even though unseen tensions were already building. On the week of the convention, however, the invitation was called off by the church authority.

By October 2023, everything exploded, and I had to leave. The cost was heavy.

A Safe Landing I Did Not Understand Then

In 2022, I got married -not out of clarity, but as a form of safety, a way to halt escalating pressures. The marriage was conducted under Prophet Usen MJ’s roof at The SWAT Nations Church, Ile-Ife.

By June 2025, the union officially ended, though it had practically ended ten months earlier. Painful, yes but not destructive. In hindsight, that marriage prevented a deeper entanglement in a system where I might have lost myself entirely.

On the day of the final hearing at the Oyo State Ministry of Justice, I was already staying at Papa’s house in Ile-Ife. I casually mentioned that I would be going to Ibadan after 1133 Experience. He looked at me and said:

“The marriage was conducted under my roof; therefore, I, Usen MJ, put it to an end.”

That was exactly what happened.

Rediscovering Fatherhood

My biological father passed in 2004, and I was very young then. For over two decades, fatherhood was a concept I understood only in theory.

Today, I can say this with conviction:

Fatherhood is not noise. It is not control. It is not image management. Fatherhood is dreaming for someone when they are too tired to dream for themselves.

I have seen this repeatedly in The SWAT Nations Church, where young people written off, labelled useless, immoral, or hopeless, find home and become Mighty Men of Usen MJ.

I have watched students heavily occupied with church activities graduate with first-class degrees; businesses rise from nothing; lives spared from accidents; and destinies redirected. This is not by hype, but by love, covering, and consistency.

My Own Testimony

On one Sunday, my Prophet asked God to give me 365 days of dramatic turnaround. Within six months:

• Long-standing marital issues ended with a prophetic word.
• Repeated miracle money followed -gifts, referrals, unexpected jobs.
• God restored my work tools and gave me a new laptop far beyond what I lost.
• Jobs returned, referrals multiplied.
• I was invited to submit my full MSc thesis proposal before mid-semester.

I am not great yet. I am positioned.

“Why Do You Honour Usen MJ Like This?”

People often ask why we honour Prophet Usen MJ the way we do.

The answer is simple: we are loved.

When others saw risk, he saw sons and daughters. When others demanded loyalty, he offered covering. When others controlled, he trusted. When others abandoned, he stayed.

This is not worship. This is gratitude.

God did me a good one when He sent you to me, Papa.

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

Your son,
Ọmọ Usen MJ,
Chukwuebuka EZEH