I was getting ready to watch a world cup match when my wife alerted me that her cooking gas had finished and that she wanted to use the camp gas she normally uses during emergencies, but she needed the burner changed as it was not burning well. I quickly rushed into the kitchen without noticing that the main gas cooker had not burnt out completely. I was also not expecting the camp gas to explode as it was supposed to be empty, as well as having a seal that should prevent gas from leaking out. As I tried to remove the burner, in a flash, the cylinder exploded into my face, completely burning my face and my hands. As I dashed out of the kitchen into the sitting room, all I could perceive was a very strong smell of my burnt skin.
The force of the explosion was so much that it flung the little girl who stays with us, and who was in the kitchen at that time into the balcony behind the kitchen. She hid behind the generator there, not remembering that it was filled with petrol but later ran out through the raging fire, though she suffered burns as a result of the heat. God kept her from suffering any permanent damage. The explosion also burnt all the clothes that were hung at the balcony. It was a miracle that the generator did not explode while the clothes there burnt. It was the burning clothes that alerted people and the whole street emptied into my house in a bid to put off the inferno. I saw God’s hand as people that I do not know rushed in with water and detergents to help put out the fire.
God orchestrated events such that my two little children who normally would not let me out of their sight whenever I came back for the weekend; especially when they were not watching their cartoon, were both engrossed in the games they were playing in my two android phones and did not notice when I stood up to go into the kitchen.
That same evening, I was rushed to a hospital where I was given first aid to relieve me of the pains. Despite the excruciating pains, I was able to pray in tongues and I kept declaring life, as well as thanking God for keeping my wife and my children.
Somehow, I woke up in the middle of that night with a very strong urge to be transferred to another hospital the next morning. The hospital reluctantly agreed to discharge me the next day only for me to be rejected from the gate when we got to the hospital I asked to be taken to. A doctor was at the gate when I came down from the car. Upon seeing me, he almost created a scene all in a bid to let me know that my condition was too bad and that their hospital cannot handle it. He said that with what he was seeing, I would have severe complications at any moment if I did not get to a hospital that would be able to handle my case. I completely rejected this, as I held unto my confession that I will have a speedy recovery with no smell of smoke. I refused to be perturbed by the horrible pronouncement by the doctor, as I was sure that my speedy recovery was a done deal.
Looking back now, I know it was God that arranged for that doctor to be outside the hospital at the time I got there, as I, eventually, went to a hospital where I got the best medical care I could have hoped for. Our God, who always goes ahead of us to make every crooked path straight, went ahead of us and as we got to the hospital, a plastic surgeon was on hand to carry out a procedure that arrested the situation and prevented me from having any form of complications. I saw fear and panic on the faces of people that saw me when I was brought out of the theatre. I refused to be worried by their reactions as it was already settled in my mind that I would be fine.
On the night of that explosion, while I was being taken to the hospital, a child in the compound told my son “Udochukwu, your daddy will not be able to work or play the piano again.“ When my son told us what the child had said, it dawned on me that this was the devil speaking through the little boy as I could not understand how a child’s mind will process that kind of thought in the middle of that type of crisis. I assured my son that I would be fine and that I will still be able to play the piano again.
One of the days I was being taken to the theatre for my routine wound dressing after the bandages were removed, I noticed that three of the fingers on my left hand were completely stiff, they were as stiff as a stick. Immediately, what that child had said flashed through my mind. I reminded the devil that I am completely whole and that I will leave the hospital with no form of deformity. I started flexing the fingers and speaking the Word over them. I even made up my mind to play the piano the very first day I stepped back into the church. For me, that was the best way to shame the devil. Today all my fingers are completely flexible and functional and I am still playing the piano. The devil failed woefully.
I want to thank God for the kind of speedy recovery I had. The doctors told me that they expected me to be in the hospital for a period of six weeks to two months. However, God had a different plan for me. I left the hospital after just seventeen days. It is a testimony that I did not suffer any permanent damage, considering that the explosion blasted my face directly. Today, my face is restored beyond what anybody that saw me at that time will ever anticipate. Our girl that suffered the burns has also fully recovered. When I saw the pictures of my face that were taken during my first week in the hospital, it dawned on me that this was the mighty hand of God at work. I hear of people who had far less severe fire accidents that did not survive it. I want to encourage us all, to always hold on to our confessions of faith irrespective of what the devil throws at us. Throughout this ordeal, I refused to entertain any fear, even when I could see the worry on the faces of people that came to see me in the hospital. I kept on confessing the healing power of God. I kept rejecting any thought that I would come out with any form of deformity. In the end, God came true for me.
I also had to go for a skin graft because the upper part of my left hand refused to heal after almost three months of dressing. I also want to thank God for the success of that surgery. God indeed kept his Word at every stage.
I want to say thank you, church, for your prayers and the wonderful show of love to us at that trying period. Thank you, New Wine Choir, for your show of love, especially the members of the band who stayed with me in the hospital late into the night while I was being operated upon in the theatre. I want to specially thank my family group leader, Bro. Dickson for his deep show of love, my Zonal Pastor, Pastor Dupe Ogbidi, my FOG Coordinator Bro. Ubong who would always come visiting after service and family group members for being there for us. Your show of love made the recovery journey much easier. For those of us that do not belong to any family group or any department in church, please do well to locate one. Not because you need people around you when you have this type of experience, but because it is the right thing to do.
Thank you, Pastor Nkechi Ene, for the simple but powerful prayer you prayed for me on the night of the accident. Your prayer set the tone for every other thing that happened throughout my period of recovery.