I Am Nಮಾದರಿ

Giving Others a Second Chance

Awuna
Nigeria

At his volunteer job at a hospital in Jos, northern Nigeria, Awuna had just started his Friday shift.

“Awuna, I need you in the exam room,” said a coworker.

“Okay, boss, I’m on my—”

Gunfire cracked. People in the room froze in fear. Thirty-one-year-old Awuna had heard gunshots before, but the sound and number of these echoed ominously. This shooting was serious—and close.

As other people scurried for cover, Awuna raced for his motorbike. Islamic militants had struck his village on the outskirts of Jos before. He sped down a dirt road that was eerily empty, hoping to get to the safety of his home.

When he arrived in the village, a few miles from downtown Jos, he saw that it was under attack. Wait, he thought. It is Friday—the day when the children are at the church practicing for Sunday’s program.

He stopped his motorbike and ran toward the church. Inside, children were screaming, shouting, and—oddly—pointing at a container. It was a harmless-looking powdered-milk can . . . except there was a wire dangling from it.

His first thought: bomb.

His second thought: children.

Immediately, he grabbed the container, intending to toss it through an open window to his right.

Ku-wam!

The percussion of the blast slammed Awuna onto his back. Shrapnel pierced his body in many places. His mangled hands bled profusely. The last thing he remembers before passing out was seeing children around him. Stunned. Tear-stained. Unharmed.

For months following the explosion, Awuna didn’t know where he was or the difference between night and day. He experienced excruciating pain. It took numerous operations to repair his badly damaged hands, but his wounds were not only physical. When the mental fogginess wore off, it was replaced with seething anger and a deep sense of bitterness toward those who had planted the bomb.

“I was angry,” he said. “I didn’t blame God, but I was thinking of vengeance—vengeance against those who hurt me.”

Then something happened. Other Christians started coming to visit Awuna. They prayed with him and for him. They helped him read his Bible. As they stood with him, he forged a “new” life that was anchored in devotion to Jesus. His have-to-go-to-church attitude was replaced by a consuming zeal to learn more, live out the gospel, and spread the good news.

“Before the attack, I was not a strong Christian,” he said. “But after going through what I went through, seeing other Christians go through suffering, and having Christians encourage me and pray for me, it all brought me closer to Christ. I’m more committed to prayer and fasting and studying the Bible. God gave me a second chance to live in the world, and I want to live it for His glory.”

What about the anger, bitterness, and vengeance he felt toward those who planted the bomb?

“If I saw them,” he said, “I would tell them, ‘I forgive you for what you’ve done.’ We see in the Lord’s Prayer that we have to forgive those who sin against us. Otherwise, our sins are not forgiven.”

Awuna emphasized that he is a changed man. The bombing set his life on a new trajectory. It gave him a second chance to heed Jesus’ words, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). He is thankful he has a cross to bear for God’s glory.

Because of God’s grace, every day is a second chance for Awuna as it is for all who follow Jesus. By forgiving those who caused him so much harm, Awuna has the privilege of extending God’s grace to others.