IN HIS SILENCE | Tobiloba Emmanuel

A few years back while I was still staying with my paternal grandmother (of blessed memory), we were asked to vacate the house we stayed, then.

The landlord’s children claimed they wanted to renovate the house and they would like everyone to vacate the house. It was a tough one. They gave everyone just six months to vacate the house.

In no time, six months arrived. One afternoon, some men(who claimed to be soldiers) arrived at the house and drove everyone out of the house. Prior to that time, my grandmother already packed a few things out of the house.

They threw many occupant’s properties out. My grandmother was left with only a few loads in the house so it was easy for us to pack out. It was a scene I won’t forget.

Everywhere looked like a refugee camp. The conference of people who stood on the rail looking at the adversity that stared at us then, formed my thought as I write this.

We left the house. My uncles weren’t leaving close, so mama would never have gone to stay with them. Never! She was particular about her trade. Mama stayed with her friend. With our loads hung in friends and relatives house.

I stayed with Baba, who lived opposite our former house. Baba loved me because I ran errands for him, then. My escape from reality in Baba’s house was watching Guilder ultimate search on baba’s FEDECO like ballot box television, every night.

Getting a good house around became a herculean task. It was either the house was an old one or not pocket-friendly. This continued. It was then I knew what it is to be homeless.

Everything looked like God was silent and he wasn’t interested in our pleas.

One day, one of my uncles discussed with someone on the urgent need of a house for Mama. The person instantly recalled there was a house somewhere.

My uncle went to the house and found it better. House found, no money! House scouting war ended, no money!

Amazingly, it was the same day my uncle found the house, a strange door of favour opened unto us. Money enough to secure the apartment and do other things even without touching the money with mama showed up.

We prayed earnestly to God to help us. For almost two weeks, it felt like we prayed to an ant hill. It looked like God wasn’t interested in our prayers.
Unknown to us, his silence was an answered prayer. He waited till the best option came for us and provided exceedingly!

“God’s silence is another form of answered prayer”.

Psalm 9 vs 18 “For the needy shall not always be forgotten, and the expectation and hope of the meek and the poor shall not perish forever.”

Don’t be tired of praying.
Keep PUSHing..
Pray Until Something Happen!

Author: Emmanuel Tobiloba

Emmanuel is a passionate educator. A graduate of Accounting from the Kwara State Polytechnic. Emmanuel, ...

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