Freedom? (2)

This is the second part of the story, Freedom?

Read the first part here.

*****

Rebecca took a deep breath, sent one more cry to heaven, and ran out of the house.

She didn’t know the area.

She had been brought blindfolded to this house after travelling for what had seemed like forever.

Sometimes, it was hard to decide what was more painful — that these men had stolen that much of her life, or that her own friend had sold her to them.

He had come with promises of opportunities and prospects of a better future.

She had trusted him because like a trailblazing warrior, he had charged through the blades of problems and difficulties confronting her at the time, and had cleared a path for her. Nothing had been too much for him to help with.

Plus, she had met him at church.

So when he asked her to travel abroad with him to set up a business, she was already more than willing to go anywhere with him.

Her mother begged her, “There are too many dark spots in this picture he’s painting”.

Rebecca said her mother was being ungrateful after everything that had been done for them, “It’s the least I can do to support him any way I can. We could have been out on the streets and without hope if it wasn’t for him”.

It was an ongoing argument for weeks, and Rebecca even left the house days before they travelled.

Her mother would call and leave text messages that Rebecca ignored.

These past seven years, Rebecca had played over and over again, the last conversation she had with her mother before leaving home.

The conversation had been progressing fine until her mother had asked a question she had been trying to keep boxed away somewhere in a crevice in her mind.

“He wants you to travel abroad with him as what?”

“Does it really matter what I’m going as? What exactly are you afraid of? He’s a man of God.”

Her mother had pointed out that there was no contract, and he hadn’t exactly been very forthcoming with details of the trip, “Don’t you see what’s happening, Becky? He’s buttered you up enough to make you do whatever he wants. I need you to know that you don’t owe him anything”.

It was downhill from there.

Her mother offered to pay back what he’s already spent.

Rebecca said if he hadn’t helped them in the first place, they wouldn’t be talking about paying back because they would not have been able to afford it.

“He’s not God, Becky”.

That’s when Becky had thrown a huge fit and left home.

“Where was God when my father left me? My father abandoned us and took hope from us. This man you now worry about, he stepped in at our darkest and brought light. At least, remember that. It wasn’t that long ago we were on the verge of begging for daily bread”.

It’s not like she had lost her faith in God, she just couldn’t think of any other way to sway her mother.

That night, her mother had sent this long text message about how Rebecca was all she had in this world, and about how a mother would not just sit back and watch her child walk into a pit.

Three days later, Rebecca was in a van with other girls, her friend, nowhere in sight and out of reach. Before that night was over, the girls had been separated, left with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The last thing she remembered was being injected, handed over to three men, pushed into a car, blindfolded, and driving in a car with the men for what seemed like forever.

She had woken up — only heaven knows how many days later — and the days just went by, until seven years….

*****
Read the first part here.

Read the final part here.

Or get the complete story here.


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16 thoughts on “Freedom? (2)”

  1. “Plus she had met him at church.” I wrote a blog post many years ago titled Gullible Gloria and Naive Nancy about women who think meeting a man at church means he’s a good man. Just because you meet a man at church, doesn’t mean he’s a good man. When will women at church get this? Great story. I’ll be back next week…God willing.

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  2. So often “we see what we want to see” and as a result we miss important cues about a person or situation. This is why we need to surround ourselves with accountability partners – people who love us and who can speak truth to us in love and grace.

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