The Mysterious Turn
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I sanctified you” (Jer. 1:5).
Growing up, fear and shame shadowed me, whispering doubts that echoed in my mind: “The world isn’t for you, or those like you.” It all began when, without any apparent cause or sickness, I unexpectedly became deaf at the age of 4.
My life was forever changed on an otherwise typical Thursday afternoon three decades ago at Ovom 1 Township Seventh-day Adventist Church in Abia State, Nigeria, where my father was pastoring. I was playing on a chair outside our parsonage beside my younger brother. When my mother called out from inside the parsonage, he left to respond, leaving me alone. I lost my balance on the chair and fell. Calling out to him for help, I shouted his name repeatedly, but my own voice was inaudible to me. I was confused. My world had gone silent.
After the fall, I stood up and walked inside, unaware of the deafness that had suddenly taken hold. My mother thought I was pretending or joking when I gestured that I couldn’t hear. Little did we know that it was just the beginning.
Before my deafness I had never met a Deaf person, so the concept of being Deaf was foreign to me. I struggled to understand why I couldn’t hear. Confusion, frustration, and sadness consumed me, leaving me feeling hopeless.
But my parents, who had Deaf friends, saw my uniqueness as a natural part of life. Their love, encouragement, and support were unwavering, and they valued me for who I was. As a result, I found the strength to move forward, attending different schools in search of the best opportunities for my growth and development.
Misconceptions of Identity
Growing up in Nigeria, I faced a harsh reality in which being Deaf was often viewed as a sin, punishment, or curse, attributed to past mistakes or parental wrongdoing. This stigma led to feelings of self-consciousness and shame. Deaf individuals were frequently marginalized, treated like beggars, and offered meager handouts without dignity. The societal mindset was that we couldn’t succeed or lead in a hearing-dominated world, that we were a burden to our families and communities. I internalized these negative beliefs, often praying for a miraculous cure, desperate to escape my Deaf identity.
I was disheartened to see many of my Deaf classmates resorting to begging on the streets, at fueling stations, and elsewhere, without developing their potential. The fear of following a similar path was overwhelming, and I struggled with thoughts of Will I end up like them? It was a bleak outlook, and those thoughts were truly unsettling.
In a world of ignorance, hospitals became our second home. We tried all the “cures” the doctors offered, until two hearing aids from Enugu State became my hearing. Unfortunately, the hearing aids caused me persistent headaches.
Driven by shame, frustration, and fear, I often masked my deafness by pretending to cope. Unless someone engaged with me in a one-on-one conversation or stood close to me in a group setting, my deafness wasn’t immediately apparent. But it hurt.
Discovering Purpose
One Friday afternoon my secondary school biology teacher visited our Deaf fellowship at our invitation and began with a thought-provoking question: “Do you know that God created Deaf people?” We Deaf students exchanged uncertain glances, unsure how to respond because of the traditional beliefs we had grown up with.
Our hesitant answers ranged from “I don’t know” to “Not sure” and “Maybe.” The teacher waited patiently, then guided us to Exodus 4:11, where we read: “Who has made man’s mouth? Or who makes the mute, the deaf, the seeing, or the blind? Have not I, the Lord?” This powerful passage revealed a life-changing truth, shifting our perspective on God’s sovereignty and our identity. This was a game-changer. God created the Deaf. I wasn’t a mistake!
Realizing that God didn’t change Moses’ or Jacob’s circumstances until their deaths, I redirected my prayers from seeking healing to asking God to bless me in my Deaf identity, empowering me to showcase His signs and wonders.
Courage sparked. I accepted my deafness and worked harder. I stopped using hearing aids afterward. Realizing that God didn’t change Moses’ or Jacob’s circumstances until their deaths, I redirected my prayers from seeking healing to asking God to bless me in my Deaf identity, empowering me to showcase His signs and wonders.
When I was growing up, my father’s well-meaning introductions often left me feeling self-conscious. When we met his friends or attended a church program, he would introduce me by name and then say, “This is my son, and he’s deaf,” or “He’s my Deaf son.” I would cringe, wanting to hide this part of myself. I sometimes asked him not to let others know my Deaf identity.
But as I deepened my faith and grasped God’s purpose, my perspective transformed. I began to see my deafness as a strength, not a limitation. After encountering Exodus 4:10, 11 and John 9:1-12, I realized God had a plan for me, just as He did for Jeremiah and all living creatures: “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you were born, I sanctified you” (Jer. 1:5).
I now saw myself as a masterpiece, crafted with purpose: “I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works” (Ps. 139:14). This truth resonated deep within me. I was created for a specific purpose, and that realization changed everything. Strong and brave, I now move with pride as a Deaf person!
Redefining the Narrative
My father’s unwavering discipline and love played a pivotal role in shaping our family’s Adventist faith and fostering our academic and personal success, even though we children didn’t always understand his strict guidance during our upbringing.
For me, his influence had a lasting impact, setting me apart from some of my Deaf peers from elementary and secondary school who strayed from their faith and personal growth. His steadfastness made a difference in my life.
Church, however, was often a place where I felt I didn’t belong. I frequently stopped attending the children’s activities because of the lack of Nigerian Sign Language interpreters. My parents and siblings became my interpreters, writing in books to help me understand.
Over time my church experience became transformative, empowering me to fully engage in both spiritual and community life. In 1999 I took a significant step by signing “Amazing Grace” with my family for the first time at Seventh-day Adventist Church Umuakpara—a predominantly hearing congregation. Overcoming my earlier fears and shame, I realized this milestone marked the beginning of a new chapter. I began inviting hearing friends to join me in presenting special music, with them singing orally while I signed in Nigerian Sign Language. This newfound confidence and determination enabled me to address audiences from a young age.
A defining moment came at the 2006 Eastern Nigeria Union Mission Youth Congress in Enugu, when my father kindly yielded part of his lecture time for me to share a brief presentation. With my younger brother interpreting, I had the privilege of addressing more than 5,000 people—an intimidating yet empowering experience. I’m deeply grateful to Youth Ministries for cultivating my leadership, courage, and creativity.
In my local church I attended services alone, without any Deaf peers—unlike churches of other Christian denominations that had thriving Deaf fellowships. This disparity sparked a desire to see my church become more inclusive. I wondered why we couldn’t welcome back Deaf members who had left, and I felt compelled to act. In 2002 I began writing letters to church leaders, advocating for Deaf ministry, rooted in our church’s values of inclusivity. Although I received no response, Youth Ministries recognized potential and gave me the opportunity to lead. I taught sign language classes, hoping to promote inclusive services for the Deaf. This effort paid off when I became a Master Guide in 2009, a milestone that marked a new chapter in my journey.
From Obscurity to Leadership
My National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) experience in Cross River State from 2012 to 2013 testified to God’s mysterious plan. I made history at the University of Calabar (UNICAL) by becoming the pioneer president of the UNICAL Community Development Service, leading a predominantly hearing group. Despite competing against two hearing colleagues, I was elected as president. It was clear that my performance during the three-week NYSC orientation camp, not my disability, earned me their trust.
In my role I worked to help implement educational accessibility measures for students with disabilities. According to the dean of education at the time, this marked a breakthrough after many years of struggle, and the university became better equipped to serve individuals with disabilities.
By God’s grace, I later accepted the role of Gospel Outreach Bible worker, despite my earlier discouragement from unresponsive leadership. I embraced the position with hope that the church would better reflect its commitment to Total Member Involvement. Encouraging results are now emerging.
A significant milestone came in 2024 when I was elected director of Adventist Possibility Ministries for the Eastern Nigeria Union Conference. I am humbled to be the first person with a disability to hold this position in the West-Central Africa Division.
Hold Your Gift With Passion
I am not silent. I am chosen. God’s will is no accident. “I will also give You as a light to the Gentiles, that You should be My salvation to the ends of the earth” (Isa. 49:6). Be proud of your gift, and keep trusting in God, the Creator of the universe, for divine intervention and guidance.
