5 Points To Overcome Masturbation

The plight: “Good morning sir, please I need your help.  I’ve been battling with masturbation right from my childhood and I don’t know how to put an end to it totally. I pray and fast about it at times, then it will stop for some weeks and later on, I’ll be back to it. Pls, help me to stop it totally sir.”

The Response:

Pleasant evening, my friend.
Glad to read from you.
I can definitely feel the sincerity of your pain in the mail you sent, however, this much I will say for now (and I pray you “get it”):

1. NOBODY can help you “stop it totally”; not me, not you—except God and His grace.
2. This has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with whether or not God loves you or accepts you. He always will love, accept, cherish, provide for, bless, and help you day in day out, whether you stop this or not.
3. But then (and most importantly) for the sake of fruitfulness in God’s kingdom (by being able to inspire and encourage others that are presently or will be passing through this same street in the future as I’m doing for you now), it is a BIG NEED for you to stop for good… [And understand that fruitfulness is the ONE THING that will distinguish believers from believers when we stand before God on the last day, for the fruitful shall be rewarded and the fruitless shall “suffer loss”]
4. But (as in my own case) I didn’t stop because I wanted to stop (otherwise, I would have stopped immediately after it started). I later found out (after mastering point number 2 above to a fault) that the tempter let me be because he came to terms with the fact that come-what-may, he will always lose. If he brings the temptation and I shrug it off, I win (and become stronger). If he brings the temptation and I fall for it, I still win (because when he reports me to My Dad, it doesn’t change the way HE sees me and Jesus never stops interceding for me—so the devil is just helpless in all of this—he always [and will always] lose!)
5. You’ve tried fasting; you’ve tried praying (and trust me, I tried both, too); but try embracing the simple fact that you are still God’s child even if you still masturbate. And the more God’s unexplainable love seeps through you, the more you get the power to be free as you’ve always wanted.

“I write this, dear children, to guide you out of sin. But if anyone does sin, we have a Priest-Friend in the presence of the Father: Jesus Christ, righteous Jesus. When he served as a sacrifice for our sins, he solved the sin problem for good—not only ours, but the whole world’s.” (1 John 2:1-2 MSG)


Best regards,


Keep The Door Shut, Dear Wall!


Keep d door shut!

…smiling? See! The Door is Open!!!


When fences are reduced to barricades,
And barricades are shattered to mere bars on the floor;
The goats throw a big party—
Their days of “restrictions” are over.

When walls are reduced to membranes,
And hard shells become permeable;
Pathogens dance for joy—
“It’s time for some parasitic associations!”

When barriers turn to carriers,
Transporting stuffs from outside to inside;
The struggle for entrance is laid to rest—
Foreign bodies zoom in, full of life!

When the farm becomes too bushy,
And each plant is flanked by weeds;
The plants are proned to starvation—
An equivalent of unproductivity.

Wait… Consider this…

When a flash comes in—and the phone rings—
And you picked the flash—and a conversation is almost starting;
That’s no more a flash—
the register of telecommunications will refer to that as a call (not a flash) however short!

So… when flashes become calls
And text messages become multimedia messages;
You had better be sensitive—
Or you are lost and left behind before you know it.

Now this sounds funny;
But it makes a lot of sense:

We have a little sister,
And she has no breasts,
What shall we do for our sister
On the day when a man comes courting?

If she’s a WALL – discreet and “womanly”
We will epitomize her chastity—
By building upon her a battlement of silver…

But if she’s a DOOR—Flirtatious and unchaste,
We will teach her the value of chastity—
By shutting her up with the hard woods of Cedar.


When walls turn to doors…
Nothing, perhaps, is more disastrous! Selah

Friendship with the world
Is enmity with God.

Guard your heart with all diligence
For out of it flows the issues of life…

Guard the doors of your mouth
From her who lies in thy bosom…
Let alone he/she who dwells in the world…

You’d better shut your door(s)…
Or keep them shut…
For he that will come is coming. Selah.

(C) 2008



Sister Rahab Meets Freedom…

Tuesday, May 13, 2008.
A3, Angola Hall.
8:35 pm

Demola is the Follow-Up Secretary of The Ambassadors Christian Students’ Fellowship of Nigeria (TACSFON). He stays in A3, Angola Hall. He was just coming from a meeting. He had a very stressful day. He was hoping to get back to his room and have a sound sleep. He needed that so badly.

As he approached the room, he heard a loud music playing…it was one “Tu Face” song – African queen. (You know the song – don’t you? Are you still born again? Kidding.) So Demola approached the room hoping to know what the loud music was all about. He later discovered that the room was locked and the lights were off…but the music was on…still very loud.

He banged on the door. Bang! Bang! Bang! No response. Bang! Bang! Bang! again…yet no response. Demola went to the back door and banged louder than before. Then the window blind was partially dragged open. Right behind the louver blades was this roommate of Demola – Tunde by name. Tunde asked with a who-is-interrupting-me look on his face “Who’s that?” and Demola replied with a frown “It’s me. Demola. Could you please open this door!?” “Alright. Give us 3 minutes…you can go back to the front door” “3 minutes? Us? You and who?” Tunde released the window blind to veil the room again. Demola continued, now speaking with a lot more fury in his voice “Tunde, I hope this is not what I’m thinking?…believe you me, if that be the case, we will throw you out of this room finally…after all, you were never a legitimate occupant.”

Demola went to the front door, fuming with rage. In a couple of minutes, the music was off, the door was opened and a shameless girl came out of the front door, followed closely by Tunde. Demola was so enraged but what could he do? Slap the girl? That won’t be Jesusly – will it? Strangulate Tunde? That’s murder! Demola just went in and lay on his bed, wishing that all he saw was just a dream. But it sure wasn’t. To add salt to injury, it was Demola’s music player that the two culprits were using to cover up the soundtrack of their evil. So disheartening.

And the girl…can you take a guess who it was? You guessed right. It was Sister Rahab. The same Sister Rahab that was weeping bitterly and trusting God for a new start a couple of months ago. But is this really her fault? She was addicted. She was already a sex addict. After all, there wasn’t a delete button to press at salvation to delete the stuffs that were formerly in the mind before salvation. But I wish she could get someone to bring her to the knowledge of the truth. The truth that sets free.

Wednesday, May 14, 2009
A 306, Moremi Hall.

Rahab’s room. Demola went there to see Taiwo who happened to be his subgroup member in fellowship. He did not even know that he was in Rahab’s room. He could not even recognize her.

On getting to the room, he knocked and asked from behind the door “can a guy come in”. A feminine voice (Rahab’s) asked from inside “Who’s that?” Demola replied saying “I’m asking after Taiwo.” Then there was a brief silence after which Taiwo came out and ushered him in. the room was like any typical Moremi hall room. That was Demola’s first time in the room. He looked around for quite a while and said “You have a lovely room here” “Oh thanks” Taiwo replied.

Then Demola’s eyes spotted two books on Taiwo’s bed. “Were you reading?” “Yes…No. I was actually writing an article on addictions” “Addictions?” “Yeah…I’m even thinking it’s high time we took a Bible study on that” “So what types of addiction have you been considering?” “Oga…wait, wait, wait…you’ve not even told me what you will like to take” “forget that one…I’m here on a mission…and I think I’m getting there already…you see, last night, something happened in my room, a squatter brought in a girl and had sex with her right inside the room, but afterwards, we got talking and I discovered that the lady was one of the many thousand Christians that are saved but are yet struggling with one addiction or the other”…

They both continued with the discussion while Rahab still hid herself in her corner, listening. In a little while, she was weeping profusely…she came out from her corner and sat beside Taiwo weeping so uncontrollably. Taiwo and Demola tried to pacify her to know why she was crying but all to no avail. The only statement she kept on saying with her tearful voice was “I’m dying…I need help”. So Demola brought out his handkerchief and wiped her tears. Then he spoke to her softly “Can we have a stroll together…I think I have a word for you.” Did she have a choice? She consented and they both left the room, leaving only Taiwo in the room.

They strolled to Mainbowl and sat down to have a talk. That was where Rahab got it. For the next 2 hours, Demola took her on a practical Bible exposition on addictions, renewing the mind, what salvation entails, and what have you, sharing from his own past as a masturbation addict. This was the first time in Rahab’s life when she felt the peace that comes with the truth.

That marked the beginning of the turn around in Rahab’s life. She now goes about singing with great anointing and with a message of how God freed her from the shackles of her past. Everywhere she gets to, she never stops sharing the testimony of how God changed her life.

That was the beginning of the transformed Rahab that we saw at the beginning of this book at the carol service of Grace Students’ Fellowship….

to be continued…
culled from “The OAU 7 and The Great Revival” (c) 2010 Ola Joseph Kolawole




Name: Sister Rahab
Department/Level: Economics. 400 Level
Fellowship: Grace-Amazing Student fellowship (GSF)

3 years ago…
Sunday, November 12, 2006

A Sunday in the family of Sister Rahab. She was in her room packing the few things she had to pack. Everything she needed to start off University was in just one traveling bag. Dad and mum were so poor…so poor that they never even thought any of their children could make it to the university. But now, Rahab is!

Rahab came out of her room looking a bit long-faced. She is the eldest of five children. Her Dad is a retired police officer and her mum roasted corn at the city gate. The family practically lived from hand to mouth. Things were not going on fine with them and this was practically not the best time for any of the kids to gain admission.

Rahab’s mum called her into the second room and talked to her like a mother will talk to a daughter. “Now that you are leaving for the university, don’t forget who you are and where you come from. Never forget that you’ve got a family that even finds it difficult to eat three square meals per day. When you get there, don’t indulge yourself in anything that will bring us into more debts than we already have. Please. Your Dad and I had gone around the streets to source for some money for you to go with.” She looked under her pillow and brought out the N500 note that she borrowed from the Alhaja that sells clothes beside her stand at the city gate. “Take.” Rahab collected the money and put it in her purse. “Keep it very well o, you know I can’t produce any other.” “Thanks ma” Rahab replied. Her Mum then unzipped her waist purse and brought out some dirty N20 notes. They were about six in number. She put them on the bed and picked them one after the other to straighten them, and then she handed them over to Rahab. “Take this for your transport.” “Thanks ma. I really appreciate everything you have done for me this last one week. May Allah reward you bountifully.”

She left the room with tears in her face. She wished she could show her Mum how much she really appreciated her going out of her way to meet her needs. She knew that her parents had really done the best they could. She called Quadri, the second to the last born and told him to help her with her bag to the city gate where she will board a bus to Ile-Ife. It’s just some 20 minutes drive from their town. The other siblings were sleeping since there was no food in the house to eat.

While Rahab stepped out of the house, lots of thoughts were flashing through her mind. How do I survive over there with just N500 which may not even be enough for registration? What does the world over there hold for me? How do I come back to this house soonest to start giving my parents the money they need? What sort of friends will I meet over there? None of her friends even dared writing the University Matriculation Examination. Within the few weeks she spent at home after her secondary school education, she can’t count the number of her friends that had been impregnated. Circumstances had gotten many of them bethroted by force. So Rahab wasn’t expecting to get to Ile-Ife and see people that she knew. She had never traveled out of their town all her life.

When they arrived at the garage at the city gate, Rahab gave Quadri N20 to buy some roasted yam so that those at home could eat something at least for the afternoon. She boarded the bus. She was the only young lad in the bus. Others were old men and women – traders going to trade at the Odo-Ogbe market in Ife.

In 30 minutes time, she was at the campus gate. After making some enquiries, she boarded another bus going inside the campus. She was indeed fascinated by the beautiful entrance into the university. Suddenly, her fears subsided. Anxiety took over. She was eager to get inside and see what the whole campus was like. She had heard from her teachers in secondary school that the university had been tagged Africa’s most beautiful campus. How true that was, she was going to find out.

As soon as the bus entered the gate, all she could see was a very long road, it was called road 1. The double-lane road was flanked on both sides by grassland and vegetation. Once in a while, she saw buildings at irregular intervals on either side of the road. Then towards the end of the long road, the beautiful site of the Senate Building came to view. She saw the beautiful Sports Complex and the Students’ union building. She saw lots of people – each one not minding what the other was doing. She even wondered if the school had resumed before then. The campus was very busy. As she alighted at the bus stop and crossed to the other side of the road, some guys ran after her hoping she wanted to buy a phone credit recharge card. She was at first embarrassed, but later politely said to them “No, thanks”. She hurriedly walked down the lane not knowing where exactly she was going. From the internet slip printout with her, she knew she was to be accommodated in Mozambique hall but she didn’t know where that was…

Friday, November 17, 2006
In Room S2, Mozambique Hall.

Rahab and her bunk-mate had been on a discussion for about a couple of hours. They are getting to know and love each other and they are becoming best of friends. Becky is a very beautiful girl. She won the “Miss Pre-Degree” beauty pageant while still in the pre-degree programme of the university. Her parents are well-to-do. Her Dad is a lecturer at the University of Lagos while her Mum is the Managing Director of a conglomerate in Lagos. Becky is their only child.

Becky loves partying. She had been busy convincing Rahab to go for the Freshers’ Party holding at a hotel not far from campus. It was organized by some ex-predites (undergraduates who had passed through the pre-degree programme).

“Becky, what you are cooking is burning!” Rahab screamed from outside the room. “I’m right there, Rahab…I just noticed that too.” A room mate, Toyin, joined in the discussion “did you say what you are cooking is burning or what you are burning is cooking?” Rahab looking puzzled asked “which is correct? What’s wrong with what I said?” Toyin replied with a loud grin “how far now? I’m only joking. You were right. I heard the other statement in a friend’s place yesterday. I learnt that’s the way Awo Hall guys say it.” Rahab responded with a shrug. She mumbled those words to herself again “what you are burning is cooking…what nonsense.” Just then, Becky came in with her pot “leave the way, the pot is hot.” “You should have left it out there to cool off a bit…are you that hungry?” “Don’t even ask me that…I’m famished…it’s as if I’d not eaten anything today” “and have you?” Rahab asked. “All you eat is junks…indomie, spaghetti, biscuits…all those stuffs are not food…they will only keep making you go more hungry” she submitted. “But you know I can’t help it…can I?…those are the only things I can cook for now…and rice…that was how I lived throughout my pre-degree days!” “Those days are over now, dear, just give me one month, and you will be the best cook in the world!…I’ll teach you how to cook…as in…good food, not all these junks you are calling food”. Becky dropped the pot in her cupboard and brought out two plates. “Let’s wait and see…by Monday, we should have finished settling down, then we can start the cooking tutorials…ehm…by the way, we are almost forgetting something here” “What’s that?” Rahab asked. “The party…aren’t we going again?” Becky questioned. “But I thought we have talked this over…I can’t come…you don’t seem to understand…what clothes will I wear?…what jewelries will I use?…the transport fare?…there are a whole lot of reasons why I can’t go…try and understand” Rahab responded. Becky said in response “and I’m telling you that all that will be catered for…I’ll give you the clothes and accessories you will use…a guy is coming to pick us up in his car…and come to think of it…you might end up getting the connection that will bring money to your pocket continuously till you graduate.” She continued “I won’t be happy if you won’t follow me…you know you are my only girl friend so far…please…I beg you…please” Becky went mute.

That was it! That was the beginning of Rahab’s walk into prostitution. At that party, she was introduced to a “Bachelors’ Club”. The leader of the club had her that night. At subsequent parties and meetings, Rahab shifted turns on the beds of the bachelors. They brought out the prostitute in her. In no time, Rahab became a pro in these things.


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FIne Girl, Beware!!!



She’s just 13. Brought up in a Christian family. Her Dad is the Senior Pastor of Oaks Tabernacle. She’s a part of the Teens’ Choir. She loves singing. She loves writing. She loves smiling. She loves nature. She’s just a good girl. Oh! Her name? She’s Sara.

But Peter. Peter is 17. He attends the same school with Sara. Peter is in the Senior High; Sara is in the Junior High. And one more thing – they attend the same church. Peter’s Dad is also a Pastor—the Assistant Pastor of Oaks Tabernacle. Peter is handsome – any girl will know that without much assessment. And you need to see Peter on sax. The last time he sustained his breath on sax for like 3 minutes, Sara had to fix her gaze steadfastly on the youngster. She was overwhelmed by this great talent which Peter has. She respects Peter for this.

But I need not be silent about how that Peter silently respected Sara. Peter was a silent admirer – admiring from a distant. A kind of an aficionado. I could remember a day like that – I was coming from the children’s chapel and I was moving towards the mission house. But while I passed by the church, I saw a young man tip-toeing to the side entrance of the tabernacle. I heard a sonorous voice rehearsing a solo. It was Sara’s. And guess who was tip-toeing to the side entrance to stealthily watch the lady indoors rehearse? You guessed right. It was Peter. I did like I saw no one and walked past briskly.

I respect them both, too. And I know they could be a nice combination for a Mum and Dad role in a drama. And perhaps, a good combination for the life investment called marriage.

All these happened last year.

But permit me to tell you that the story is now a different story. Sara, now 15, is heavy with child. She’s presently not in school – she’s at home. She doesn’t sit with the choristers again – she sits among the women in the back pews. She doesn’t take solos again – she sings “a dirge” on daily basis. She doesn’t smile again – she weeps. Not only because she’s pregnant but because she disappointed her parents. She misrepresented the church. She failed so many people. How did it all happen – within 15 months!? Hear Sara retell her story in her own words:


“I’d just finished taking a special number in our last youth convention. It was a solo and Wao! – It was lovely. I personally felt this awesome feeling while taking the solo. By the time I brought the solo to a close, the whole church was already on their feet. Some lay on the floor weeping and praying. Some others lifted up their hands to God, pleading for mercies. It was a wonderful ministration. And guess who spiced it all up with Davidic skills on the sax? You guessed right again. It was Peter.

After the meeting, Peter came to me where I was sitting awaiting my Mum who had been busy attending to some of the “Good Women” of the church. Then he talked “that was not a bad performance – you know?” “Thanks” I simply responded with a broad smile. Then he smiled back, too. He proceeded and asked “And have you ever perceived that God has got great plans for you in this music ministry?” Then I paused for a moment and then responded “What do you mean?” At that point, he took his seat on the pew opposite mine such that he was facing me, sitting with his legs crossed. I was wearing a “dinner gown” but it wasn’t that long so I had to adjust my sitting posture so that Peter is not seeing “anything” that he’s not meant to see. Then he talked further. “You see, Sara, I’d always had this great dream of playing sax around the world to bless the name of God and to minister healing to the people. And as you stood on that stage today to take the solo, I got this conviction that you will be just the kind of ministry partner I’d always prayed for. I don’t know if you really understand what I’m trying to pass across”. Then I cut in “I think I got your point quite well. But as you know, I’m still in school. I don’t even know what Dad and Mum will say about such stuff. I mean there is still a long way to go if that were to be a reality.” Having said that, he bent forward as though trying to stand up, and then he said “I understand perfectly. You don’t just worry. I just feel like letting you know what is on my mind. We’ll still see and talk more.” Then just as he stood up to take his leave, he brought his mouth close to my ears and whispered a simple statement – “You are looking good”. I smiled and said thanks. But deep within me, I was much happier. It was as if I’d never heard that statement all my life.

When we got back home, guess what was the first thing I did – I rushed to my sister’s room to have a look at myself again. And I smiled at my image in the mirror. Just then, my eldest sister came in. She smiled at me and asked – “What are you looking at?” Guess what was my response? I asked her a question – “Am I not looking good?” She laughed as she made a statement I should learn from. She said “And are you just discovering that for the first time?”

Ever since that Sunday, I’d had this strange desire to always want to be around Peter.

To cut the story short, one evening, I told my mum that I was going to play with Elizabeth – Peter’s sis-ter. And I left. When I got to their place, unfortunately, Eliz wasn’t at home – but fortunately, Peter was. Unfortunately, Peter was the only one at home – but fortunately, he still welcomed me and made me feel at home. I was wearing a short skirt and a fitted top. He was wearing a v-neck and a three-quarter jeans. He was actually doing some rehearsals on the keyboard when I came in. so he went into the kitchen while I lay on the rug to play the keyboard. He stealthily walked in and kept on looking at my “rear” when I suddenly looked back and he gave me a big appreciated smile and cut in “Have you been learning the keyboard before?” “Why did you ask?” I asked back trying to get myself composed again. “Those chords you are playing are too complex for someone just handling the keyboard for the first time” he explained further. “Then you guessed right” I replied and with that brought the conversation to a close.

He handed me a tumbler and filled it with some apple juice. As I took the first sip, he went on and said “Has any one ever told you that you are beautiful?…as in…your eyes…your nose…your lips…your gol-den black hair…everything is just superb”. At that point I must confess, my head began to swell and he never stopped as he kept on down pouring some romantic rhymes and he kept on coming closer. I was too ecstatic to catch those words in my memory but it was as if those words were working wonders on my body – in and out!

Then suddenly, his lips located mine and…he kissed me. That was exactly where I lost my guard. And before I knew it he had me. I never believed I could be deflowered so cheaply. And after the whole thing, we became Adam and Eve. Our eyes were then kinda opened…but it was too late. He gave me some contraceptive pills which I used… but it was too late. He gave me a douche…but it was too late. I wept…but it was too late. I dressed up and looked innocent again…but it was too late. I went back home to pick up my books and continued my preparation for my “A-Levels”…but it was too late…”


Let’s cut Sara short before she begins to weep over this screen.

Did you learn the lesson?

I’d come to realize that most of the times that “we” ladies sell out ourselves so cheaply, it’s just because one guy came and tell us things we ought to know – but which we tend to have forgotten.

“You are looking good”…and so what? You should have always known that (See Psa 139:14).

“You are beautiful”… and so? Should that be new to you? (See Psa 139:14).

“You are the one that makes my world go around”…says who? What makes you think he hasn’t said the same thing to ten ladies last week?

Let not those words unnecessarily disrupt your internal physiology and metabolism.

You need wisdom.

I’ll leave you with this verse – Prov 7:4,5 from four different Bible translations.

Let wisdom be your sister and make common sense your closest friend.

They will protect you from the flattering words of a strange man – (Contemporary English Version. Words in italics mine)

Treat wisdom as your sister, and insight as your closest friend.

They will keep you away from other men, from men with seductive words. – (Good News Bible. Words in italics mine)

Talk to Wisdom as to a sister. Treat Insight as your companion.

They’ll be with you to fend off the Tempter– that smooth-talking, honey-tongued Seducer. – (The Message)

Say to wisdom, “You are my sister.” Give the name “my relative” to understanding in order to guard yourself from an adulterer, from a loose man with his smooth talk. (God’s Word Version)


Then, here is the concluding part of the Sara’s story: I FINALLY WOKE UP FROM MY DREAM. Then I discovered there was actually no Sara. No Peter. No Oaks Tabernacle. No sax. No solos. No re-hearsals. No juice. No kisses. No sex. No….. It was all a dream.

But who knows? The Sara might just be you. And the Peter might just be that guy with a baritone voice that called you on extra-cool last night.

Just beware. Indeed, you are looking good. But beware. Before it’s too late.

OLA, Joseph Kolawole.


I wrote this on December 1, 2008 while doing my I.T. at a medical laboratory and a 14-yr old damsel came in for “Pregnancy Test”…and alas! She tested positive!

Teenagers out there, beware.