I spent the childhood in detesting my biological family. As a newborn infant, I was abandoned by parents at birth on the basis of their religious and astrological convictions. Spent the first ten years of my life in maternal grandparents’ home where I endured a kind of child abuse by an uncle that nearly cost my sanity. At eleven, I was brought back to my father’s home where physical and emotional abuses nearly cost my life. The terms “father”, “brother”, “uncle” found no place in my oral or mental vocabulary. The only endearing terms were, and still are, “grandfather” and “grandmother”. Sadly, I was not aware of my grandpa’s death (apparently he died while I was being taken care of by another family). I still have a memory of my childhood days of waiting for his return for a long time; no one told me he had died. When I was brought back to my father’s home, I lost the love of my grandma too. Thus, back in my father’s home, the goal of my life was to get away from the family as far as I could get.
In my quest of running away, I ran into the Lord Jesus Christ. In an amazing manner, he transformed my life, my quest and my destiny. I got into a small Christian community. Everyone in that community called each other as “brother so and so” and “sister so and so.” There appeared to be a deeply rooted brotherly kindness even among the strangers. Such friendship and intimacy began to affect my otherwise solitary existence. As I grew closer to Christ and to Christians, I began to feel at home in the church.