Dear Vee,
I’m blessed by God with a financial fortune that surpasses my husband’s earnings—my income is double his. Recently, I received a substantial payment of N12M from my office. I had already discussed with my husband that this money would be used to secure our own home, however modest, instead of continuing to rent.
The very day the money was deposited into my account, an unexpected visitor appeared at our gate as I drove in—a man of God. “Madam, the Lord sent me to you with an urgent message,” he declared. I parked my car, eager to hear him out. He began revealing intimate secrets, even ones about me that no one else knew. This naturally made me trust him.
Only my husband knew about the N12M, so I was taken aback when the man of God said that I should not use the money for buying or building a house. According to him, God demanded that the money be brought for special prayers before it could be spent, or else it would bring death. Overwhelmed and confused, I agreed to contemplate and pray on his advice. He wrote down his phone number and left.
Upon entering the house, my husband noticed my agitation. I recounted the whole encounter, and he supported the prophet’s advice. He even chastised me for not inviting the prophet in for a drink. He took the prophet’s number, called him, and arranged for us to bring the money for prayers the following day.
The next morning, we went to the bank to withdraw the cash. I had taken leave from work to participate in the prayers. We drove straight to the address the prophet provided. His secretary led us to his office, but the prophet refused to handle the money. He insisted that he couldn’t touch it or even the money bag until the prayers were completed. The prayers stretched from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m., and he instructed us to return the next day to collect the money.
That night, I was filled with an inexplicable restlessness and could barely sleep.
The following day, when we arrived at the address, we found the gate locked. We peered through the gate holes but saw no sign of anyone. My husband climbed the wall, but the compound was eerily silent. We asked the security guard at the neighboring building about the prophet and were stunned to learn that no prophet or church had ever been at that location.
The building had been embroiled in a court case for months, and everyone had been evicted. At this revelation, I felt faint and collapsed into my husband’s arms. The N12M was gone within 24 hours. My husband managed me back to the car, and that’s the last I remember before waking up in a hospital bed.
To make a long story short, I fell ill, developed high blood pressure, and struggled to maintain my job amidst my depression. The shocking truth was that the man I had called my husband orchestrated the entire scheme.
He had fed the fake prophet all the details and conspired to swindle me of my N12M. Eventually, conflicts arose between the prophet and his accomplices, leading to their arrest and exposing the deceit.
My husband’s family paid his bail, but he found the house empty when he returned from the police station. I had packed up and left before he came back. It has been three months since I separated from him, and I never wish to see him again. I’ve made this clear to everyone who has intervened.
I fear my husband might harm me if given the chance; living with him again is unthinkable. Some people and my pastor say that if I truly forgave him, I would consider reconciling. But if you were in my position, would you take him back?
