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Music Artist DeGoldberg Recounts A Death To Life Experience At Rumumdele, Rivers State

Music Artist DeGoldberg Recounts A Death To Life Experience At Rumumdele, Port Harcourt

Music Artist DeGoldberg Recounts A Death To Life Experience At Rumumdele, a local government in Rivers State, Nigeria.

We gathered a story from Port Harcourt based rapper Nyeche Gift Enyinda popularly known as DeGoldberg who has an awesome method of using rap in telling scriptural stories and relating these stories to our every day living.

The experience which happened in 2019 was one we tag as DEATH TO LIFE as DeGoldberg and those who were victims later turned Victor stared at Death face to face before God came in miraculously and gave them life again.

The story is a bit lengthy but definitely worth your time, grab some popcorn, ground nut, chin chin, cocktail or even pure water and read on.

One year ago, I and two others were held at gun point for 7 excruciating hours by trigger-happy bloodthirsty advanced vigilante group in a remote community in Rivers State.

An incident that will go on to change my life forever.

It was on a Thursday, a music gig in Rumundele community: a two-day mega crusade and we were guest musicians

We had just arrived at the community and were given a warm welcome by the church executives and senior pastor. It was all smiles and bless you as everyone was excited. We were to be taken to our lodge.

Unknown to us, the community had been in utter chaos prior. Cultism and criminality rocked there. This led the community leaders to contract this advanced vigilante group with track record of combating crimes with extreme gestapo approach. They killed every cultist and suspected cultist. They had only operated for 3months before we showed up. We were later told they had killed over 86 persons. Some horrifying stories and shallow grave lace the community. The village literally smelt of death.

My friends wore some fancy hairstyles and clothing as expected. We were told vehicles were not allowed in for security reasons. We strolled in with our bags escorted by the senior pastor and some workers hoping to get to our lodge, eat, relax and get on with the day’s work.

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Music Artist DeGoldberg Recounts A Death To Life Experience At Rumumdele, Port Harcourt

Right away, we were flagged down by these guys dressed in black and red, brandishing firearms and sharp machetes. Some bare chested and proudly adorned with some very tribal accessories. The leader, charismatic, barely talked and very respected among the bunch. Strong muscles and constantly had a piece of herb locked between his lips. Issakaba style. Sam Dede levels

Immediately we were flagged down, the Senior pastor (a woman, also a native of the village) questioned the disrespectful manner with which we were stopped, and mehn, next thing, these guys like swarm of bees attacked her in their numbers with machetes, repeatedly cut her inflicting deep cuts. Beat her to a pulp. pulled her by the leg down the market square.

Threatened to cut off my arm if I interfered, I was pinned in shock at this hugely terrible sight, too shocked to even move. I and my two friends were immediately detained in a makeshift facility with an armed sentinel who constantly reminded us that we would be severely dealt with. They cut the carefully maintained hair of one of my friends to further spite us and made us sit on the floor. The battered pastor was taken to an already prepared prison while we would be detained till further notice

They confiscated our phones and in our presence, repeatedly dialed phones numbers from a sheet of paper. A paper we found out contained phone numbers of all wanted bandits, cultists and robbers from the village. For they checked to see if we had ties with them. We were further searched and our bags rummaged

A sort of ritual was carried out on us to find out if we were cultists, or if we had at least killed. They found nothing against us, and at 11pm we were released. We came out of the hut thanking God for our freedom, not knowing which way to go. To our surprise, a few church members waited in a corner outside praying for our release. They took us to our prepared accomodation.

It was a long walk from the place we were detained to our accomodation which afforded us the opportunity to go through the church. And to our amazement, 15 members mainly women had stayed back in the church to weep. For their pastor has been badly brutalized and disgraced before the entire community. Hopes of the long anticipated crusade all but gone. And more importantly, they feared for the well-being of their woman of God who had so tremendously brought them hope through God’s word and transformed the lives of several cultists and made them saints. Something the vigilante hated her for so much. For they wanted all cultists dead!

Touched by the sight of that, we just couldn’t go into our rooms knowing the church members were so emotionally battered. We stayed back with the members encouraging them with the Word and led them to sing, when…

Suddenly, there seemed to be some activity outside the church. What sounded like engine of motorcycle. That didn’t stop us from singing gently. Then the door of the church was kicked open. The same men. The women screamed in aparent fear. The men kicked violently every chair obstructing their path to where we were gathered in the church. They screamed this time in obvious anger “wey those boys? Bring them now before we shoot everybody here!”

We were surprised to be rearrested, this time with guns to our head, and men screaming orders. We were totally confused as to what could have changed. We were then led through bush path with guns to our head in the dead of the night in a strange land. My life flashed before my very eyes. Immediately, I ordered my guys “oya tongues!” We blared unusual tongues in prayer as we walked down the bush path with our trembling hands hung in the air.

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Then suddenly, there came an unusual boldness. I stopped moving, defying their order. I then turned to face the one who had the gun to my head. And lo, their leader. I recognized him from the hut. With his trademark herb on his lips. He looked at me surprised, and tacitly ordered me to keep moving, then I told him “I’m not moving an inch further till you tell us where you’re taking us.” At this point, he ordered his boys to stop as he took the leaf off his lips to talk to me. I looked defiantly at him as the moon shone in the middle of the bush. Then he said..

awesome method of using rap in telling scriptural stories and relating these stories to our every day living.

“I no wan kill una. If to say I wan kill una I for do am since. But I want make you do something, else I go tie una three ‘crocodile tie’ till daybreak. We dey carry una to the pastor make una tell am to bring her phone give us to check something. If she no do, una own don finish be that.”

They wanted the pastor’s phone to fish out some more repentant cultists. For we later learnt that before the introduction of the vigilante group, she had made good progress transforming cultists. She was even said to have gone to the cultist hideout to preach, and tens of them gave their hearts to the Lord and even underwent water baptism. But the vigilante wasn’t getting any of that. They had grown bored after successfully wasting the active cultists and criminals. They wanted more challenge. Heard they almost killed the previous day, the innocent girlfriend of a cultist they had killed. She was only saved by her menses: for they don’t kill someone with blood they didn’t inflict.

The week before, we were told they killed an ex-cultist and his father who attempted to hide him. They made them dig their own grave and buried them alive.

Due to the absence of blood-worthy challenge, they resigned themselves to trivial matters. While in detention, I saw them make two fighting women reported to them kneel down.

I agreed to talk to the pastor. We were then taken to the place she’s being detained. A dark empty room. Her body bloody, clothes torn, deep cuts on her limbs, thighs and torso. She laid helplessly on the floor. At the sight of me, she called my name faintly, attempting to sit up, grimacing from serious discomfort.

I knelt down and hugged her while I muttered repeatedly “it is well” and she kept on nodding. She weakly asked “have you eaten? Hope they didn’t beat you?” Eaten ke!

While we conversed in hush tone and prayed silently, the impatient sentinel assigned to her cell asked me to go straight to the point, which of course I did, informing her of their threats to us. She asked questions and the phone was brought but we remained detained this time in a room with a huge idol in the shape of the head of a goat in front of us.

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We were released for the second time that night, taken to our accomodation as we called all and sundry informing them what we had experienced. Family and loved ones requested hysterically we return ones it’s sunrise. But none of us could really sleep. We stayed together, holding hands, praying. We jumped up in shock at the slightest sound outside. I dreaded every motorcycle sound. A dread that lasted weeks after this incident.

As I managed to sleep, something incredible happened: I saw like in a zoomed picture, pastor’s injuries. And as I prayed, a gluelike substance was formed covering up the wounds. I woke up and continued praying particular for her injuries.

By daybreak, the church had managed to raise some money, and after some back and forth with the vigilante group, she was released on bail. For I and my friends resolved to not leave till she comes out.

Music Artist DeGoldberg Recounts A Death To Life Experience At Rumumdele, Port Harcourt

The church and half the community had gathered outside waiting for pastor to come out. Members supported to get her down the staircase. She couldn’t even smile even though she wanted. The pain in the cheeks alone couldn’t afford her to. And she couldn’t take a step down the staircase without being supported every step of the way.

While they suggested hospitals, she immediately interjected and pleaded to be taken to her church instead. Stating categorically, she is facing this persecution because of her work in Ministry. She was then taken to the church and dropped on the altar writhing in pain on the floor of the altar while I led a song “in the Word of God…there is power. In the name of Jesus, every knee must bow.” The atmosphere became even more charged when one of my friends, Progress-kelvin sang “who is wonderful? It’s Jesus!”

The church was filled with many people standing, pastor lying helplessly on the floor, a lot more persons peeped in sympathy through the windows, the vigilante members roaming the streets satisfied they successfully made out a scapegoat. But as we sang, something remarkable happened that I won’t ever forget.

My eyes still closed as I and my friends led the people in songs, sudden shouting erupted from the crowd, but our eyes stayed shut as we continued singing, refused to be distracted by the shouting. But the shouting grew even louder with the people outside jumping for joy. And as I opened my eyes.. my people lo and behold…

Pastor was up on her feet jumping and pacing the entire altar. Kicking the air and throwing her hands up. I dropped on the floor at the sight of that. Injuries healed miraculously in 10mins. All wounds cleared up! Never seen anything like it.

Next thing she screams “come on let’s take the chairs to the venue, the crusade holds tonight!” Everywhere scatter!! Both young and elderly carrying plastic chairs on their head to the school field with indescribable joy. I felt like giving God a big kiss. My family members ringing me to return home ASAP. Me ke? I carry my own plastic chair for head follow go field!

Pastor also carried her chair. We walked past the vigilante checkpoint. The excited crowd didn’t mind them. Everyone carrying chair excited. They too couldn’t stop the people they once subjugated. Then, at the sight of pastor carrying her own chair, the leader almost passed out. The leaf fell off his lips as his jaw dropped.

There was a truck assigned to transport chairs, but for the people that day, the carrying of chairs was a spontaneous show of victory. Things like this characterise ceremony: Rumundele Chair Carrying Day. Lol

We ended up having a two day mega crusade with both days packed with people who came to see God’s mighty power in the life of Pastor Ugomma.

She flawlessly officiated both days and had the most crowd in that community till that day. I never felt more honoured presenting my songs as I was after the surreal 48hrs.

Anyways, on my way back to PH, on sighting Rumuola, omoh, I sent a big kiss to heaven.

That’s the end of the story but before you go, check out;

About Henry Samson

Blogger, lyric video editor and a music addict. The desire to see good music, videos and good contents in general circulated everywhere led to the creation of this blog. He's currently the head administrator of this blog.

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