My dear Pastor Kech,
The first day I walked into your office, I was like a reed that was trampled by an 18-wheeler. There was definitely no hope in
sight… or so I thought. That day, you spoke to my spirit man, and even my soul paid attention. I heard things about myself that I
thought were lost forever. You were not so much interested in the roles of the different parties, but you looked me in the eye
and said to me, “Helen, forget about whatever has happened in the past and just fall in love with the Word of God. Know God as
your Father”. “Helen, there is more for you in God!”. To know God as my Father? Not to know my pastor as my father? “How is
that possible?” I wondered. It all sounded too good to be true, given my circumstances at the time, but I dared to believe.
Oh, I took your counsel!
One day at a time, step by step, I fell in love with the Word of God, and I began to grow. Gradually, oh but steadily, depression
began to peel off; my memory could retain useful information again. I could hear a joke and laugh heartily. Waoh! God’s Word
works. And the more I studied the Word, the more I came to know that God was my Father and not my pastor’s Father or my
Grand Daddy.
The more I sat under your ministry, the more I fell in love with you. You were so pure, so transparent. You taught and
encouraged everyone to go back and check the scriptures to confirm what you taught, to be like the Berean Christians. You
were so secure.
Then I began to serve, and as I served, I got closer to you. You ceased every opportunity to tell me you loved me and that I was
a blessing.
I recall when I accompanied you to your first ministration at the WAFBEC. It was such an honour for me, yet you were so
thankful as though I was doing you a great favour. After the conference, you sent me money and called it ‘offering’. I remember
asking, “Pastor, for what?” And with your signature smile, you responded, “We came to minister together”. Your kind words were
always so inspiring.
You loved me and showed it in so many ways. You were so kind and generous. Oh, Pastor, you were just a serial giver to
everyone who came in contact with you.
You showered me with gifts – money, clothes, shoes, hair, a phone, food, etc.
Oh clothes!!!!!!! One day I ‘spooted’ one of them and ministered in church, afterwards, you said, “Nne, I saw you smoking hot on
stage”. And I said, “Pastor, I’m learning from the main Chimney o”. “You’re Chimney Jr, then”, you replied. Oh my Mama, you
always made people feel special.
Your life was an open book!
I learnt from you when you preached, when you counseled, when you rebuked, and when you joked. Even when you were
silent, there were loads of lessons to glean from. You were just a mobile wisdom house.
Your impact on my life is growing, but I’m very grateful for what you imparted to me, and I am beginning to see its expression in
my life.
Pastor, I am eternally grateful to God for bringing me to you, to teach me, encourage me, nurture me, and ordain me into
ministry. I am grateful to God for the life you lived and the legacy that you left for us to continue.
Pastor, my heart will always remember you.
Rest on, Mama.
(Pastor Helen Nwuzi)