Desperate to escape unemployment, Dumebi* (27) took her worries to church. There, she promised God she’d give him her entire first salary if he gave her a job.
Weeks later, she got the answers to her prayers, but at what cost? Giving away her salary has now kicked off a wave of problems she is desperately trying to fix.
This is Dumebi’s story, as told to Azara.
I’ve told a few people this story, and they all told me what I did wasn’t smart. But I just did what many Nigerians in my position do: I took my worries to God, and He turned them into blessings.
See, before I entered church with my dilemma, my life was falling apart. In 2024, I lost my ₦150k-per-month content-writing job to AI.
As a woman with a university degree, I figured that finding another job wouldn’t be difficult, but I hadn’t fully realised just how terrible the Nigerian job market was. I’d been out of it for three years at that point, and because I got my other job fairly easily, I was confident I could do that again.
Very quickly, the job market humbled me. I submitted over 50 applications that first year, and only eight companies got back to me for interviews. One company accepted me, but after a three-stage interview, they revealed they would only pay me ₦80k. I turned it down immediately.
For some time, I lived off my ₦2.2m savings and relied on my mum to take care of me, but she was growing old, and my savings couldn’t support me forever. In the depths of my desperation, I turned to the one place I was told I’d find answers to my problems: church.
“Maybe that’s why things aren’t working out for you,” my mother suggested one day in 2025, nearly a year after I’d lost my job. “You need to rekindle your spark for the Lord.”
Now, at this point, I wouldn’t say my relationship with God was great. I wouldn’t even say it was good. I was a Christian in name only. I had stopped going to church a while ago because I found it boring.
Usually, when my mother suggested I return to church, I ignored her, but desperation has a way of making you pay attention. So, I decided to listen to her for once. I reached out to one of my more religious friends, telling her I wanted to start going to church again but had no idea where to look.
Luckily for me, she had a church she adored, led by a very popular Pentecostal pastor in Abuja. She sent me a link to one of his sermons before our conversation was even over and told me to listen.
I did, and I hated it.
I thought the pastor was too loud. Why on earth was he always screaming or crying? It was a world away from the Catholic Church I grew up in, and even though I didn’t want to go back to my old church, I wasn’t sure this new pastor was the solution either. I dropped the sermon and decided to focus my energy on my job search.
But, oddly, that same pastor started cropping up everywhere I went. I never realised how many billboards he had up in Abuja or just how much people talked about him. It was almost as if he was following me. I would walk into a supermarket thinking about my dwindling savings, and I’d hear his voice crying out over the speakers.
I’m not the sort of person who believes in signs from God, but this time, I started to.
Finally, at the end of 2025, when I had about ₦1m left in my savings, I gave in and decided I’d start following the preacher.
Around this time, my mum started getting sick frequently. It was never anything serious, but for someone in her 60s, simple illnesses could escalate, and I worried that one day, she’d need medical care that I wouldn’t be able to afford. This pushed me more into the arms of the pastor.
At first, he was difficult to follow, but over time, I started to enjoy his loud and passionate preaching. I would play his sermons in the mornings while I cleaned, and before long, I found myself shouting along with him.
But, most importantly, I loved the testimonies. People came from all over Nigeria, and sometimes from abroad, to testify about miraculous turnarounds in their fortunes. Some had beaten stage-four cancer, while others had patched up long-ruined relationships. Of course, I was mostly drawn to the people who spoke about career breakthroughs. I wanted that to be me, and the pastor made me believe it could be.
This year, in September, the pastor organised a fast for the church and told us to ask God for whatever we wanted. At this point, my savings were finished, and I had to borrow ₦500k from the friend who had introduced me to our man of God. In my desperation, I said to God, “Please give me a good-paying job. If you do, I’ll give my entire salary to you.”
Two weeks later, a few days into October, I got a callback.
Just two weeks? Not a month, but two weeks after I’d prayed? I already knew that job was mine and that God had set it aside just for me.
It was a growth strategist role at a spa that paid ₦180k a month. I know it’s not the best-paying job, but compared to the ₦80k gig I had gotten before, it was an incredible upgrade. Besides, this was what God had for me, so when they sent the offer, I didn’t think twice about it.
And, as promised, when I was paid at the end of October, I gave my entire salary to God.
I entered November with no salary or savings, but with the hope that God would carry me through. Yet while my life was improving in the spiritual realm, the physical consequences of my sacrifice began to show.
At the start of November, my mum came down with malaria, and just as I had feared, she needed to be hospitalised. She had lost a lot of fluids, so they also asked me to buy IV fluids for her, not to mention the medication she needed for her recovery. They put my mum in a public room to reduce costs, but even then, the medical bill rose to ₦120k.
To make matters worse, my friend, who had lent me money, asked me to pay her back. She wanted me to start making repayments now that I had a job. I had to tell her that I had given my money to God. I thought she, of all people, would be thrilled that I had done that, but now she’s enraged.
“You didn’t even think about the fact that I needed that money!” she snapped.
I’ve begged her to understand, but she has refused. It’s been a few days, and she still won’t talk to me. I’m worried she’ll add interest to my loan out of anger.
I’ve paid my mum’s bills with what was left of my friend’s money, but that was all that would have carried me through the month. I can take money out of my mum’s account, but I’m too ashamed to do so. I’m supposed to be caring for her, not the other way around. Besides, she makes her money through her rental business, and things have been slow. She has about ₦600k in her spending account, but I don’t want to touch that in case business doesn’t pick up anytime soon.
When I told my mum about the dilemma with my friend, she asked why I didn’t just use my salary to start paying her back. I’m too ashamed to tell her what I did, so I lied and said they haven’t paid me yet. But soon, the truth will have to come out.
I’ve had to ask my company for an advance on my salary, and they told me they’re processing my request. Hopefully, I get it, but that means I’ll struggle through the holidays.
I know I messed up, but in the heat of the moment, excitement can make you do crazy things. I still believe God gave me my job, and I’m trusting Him to see me through the month, but so far, it’s been hell.
