By Oreva Godwin
I know many of you will quickly say, “I’m not damaged.” But pause for a moment, how sure are you? Do you know that life itself is damaging?
Some people are damaged but know how to manage it. Some are damaged but don’t even realize it. And some are so obviously damaged that you can feel it from a distance.
Every day, beautiful men and women walk around as damaged baggages, ticking time bombs ready to explode. And the scary part? They often explode on the next person who chooses them as a lover, a friend, or even a spiritual guide, leaving others damaged in the process.
When I say damage, I mean trauma: childhood trauma, trauma from family, from relationships, from the church, from workplaces, from hospitals, from businesses, even from our country itself. These are wounds we carry, knowingly or unknowingly.
Nigerians are naturally angry people. Yes, we are angry at ourselves, our past, our situation and even at the system. We carry so much pain in us. Nigerians need healing, healing from a whole lot.
As Africans, we love to say, “We are strong, we endure.” But strength is often a mask. We’ve been programmed to equate vulnerability with weakness, while the West calls vulnerability what it truly is, humanity. Here, we are conditioned to function like robots: “You’re traumatized? Give yourself self-therapy and move on.” We don’t trust therapy, and sadly, many of our therapists are damaged too.
I remember a friend who called an online therapist during depression. She poured out her heart, only to hear: “Is this why you’re depressed? Wake up and plan your life. I see no reason for depression.” No encouragement. No evaluation. Just condemnation. She was left worse than before.
So we turn to the church, expecting healing, forgetting that we’re speaking to humans and not God. Many have trusted pastors with their darkest secrets, only to hear their pain turned into Sunday sermon material. Instead of healing, they leave more broken.
This is why I always tell people: heal before you step into a relationship, before you say “I do,” before you become a parent. Mental stability is not negotiable. Stop bleeding on others. Work on yourself. Seek help if you must. Take time alone if you must. But heal, so your baggage doesn’t destroy those who love you.
Your partner is not your therapist. Stop using people to patch your brokenness. The one you depend on to heal you may end up damaging you further. Everybody’s ex is “toxic” until you date them yourself, then you discover who is truly dangerous.
Let me show you how damage looks in real life. Mark met a beautiful youth corper and began dating her. She had “issues with her roommate,” so he accommodated her. Unknown to him, she was already engaged. She lied about her fiancé being her “big brother.” Six months later, Mark discovered the truth through a friend who knew her fiancé. Heartbroken, he ended the relationship.
But Mark never healed. In his next relationship, he bled all over his partner with suspicion and distrust until she left. Seven years later, he’s still stuck in betrayal’s shadow, too hurt to heal from his past.
Ola was a pimp. He hooked up girls to big shots. At 35, he decided to settle down. But how could he trust women, having seen so much deception firsthand? He had watched girls pretend to be at home to their boyfriends while lying in his bed. He watched girls visit his place or a hotel with bedsheets to cover the bed and pretend they were home on video calls with their lovers. He had been the “bestie” to ladies who slept around.
Now, every relationship ends with him hacking phones, spying, and trying to prove himself right. He destroyed good women with his distrust, but he can’t stop. He is trapped in his own damage.
Tosan was gang-raped after missing a church service. In tears, she confided in her pastor. Instead of covering her with love and confidentiality, he used her ordeal as a Sunday sermon illustration: “One of our sister was raped because she missed service and chose to go on a date with a man. A lesson to you all: kill the flesh and walk in the spirit. If she was in church, she wouldn’t have been raped. And she is a worker in this church, learn to place God first.”
Tosan was shattered. Later, she heard rumors that the same pastor was sleeping with church members. “Look at who judged me for ‘living in the flesh,’” she thought bitterly.
She left the church hurt. To this day, she avoids close bonds with pastors and stays only as a floor member in church, afraid of being hurt again or changing church based on speculations. She had to protect herself from church drama that never ends.
Onome dated Max for four years. He deflowered her, yet she was never his “main girl.” His main chic was the one he went to church with and was known in church as his partner, unknown to Onome.
One day, Onome heard rumours that Max was getting married. When she finally confronted him, he admitted he was marrying someone else. She was broken.
Later she met Ebuka, a good man who provided for 80% of her bills and loved her dearly. But her distrust bled into the relationship. She accused him constantly, suffocating him with suspicion. A friend once asked her, “If you catch him cheating, will you leave?” She replied, “I don’t know. But I will want to know. I don’t want to waste my time the way I did with Max.”
Her paranoia became unbearable. Ebuka chose peace and left. Onome was left damaged again.
Esther was raped by her uncle at 10. She grew up hating men, indulging only in casual sex, never trusting, never opening her heart. For 20 years, she carried the pain.
Then, on a trip to India, she stumbled into a Buddhist meditation center. For the first time, she cried freely, uncontrollably. She returned often, until gradually peace entered her life.
Esther came back changed. She accepted her past but refused to let it control her future. She embraced love and let herself be loved. She is proof that healing is possible.
Imagine if God had punished all the angels for Satan’s rebellion. Heaven would have collapsed. But God understood this truth: you don’t destroy everyone because of one wound.
So think deeply about this: Heal. Yes, the past is painful, but make room for healing. Contain yourself. Don’t let your damage define you. Stop bleeding on those who didn’t hurt you.
The world is full of wounded people. But the real tragedy is when the wounded refuse to heal and instead create more wounded souls.
No one is coming to save you. Only you can save yourself.
*Oreva Godwin, The Southerner
