Unfortunately even though I could have, I understood it late about what actually led to the daunting and dark experience we had on the night of 4th November, two years ago.

Words alone aren't enough in expressing how hopeless everyone felt. It started with a joyful moment we shared together after my husband returned earlier that day from a trip he embarked on the previous week.

It was such a blissful time for us especially our children because they really complained to me how they have missed Dad.

For the first time after good nine days, we played like usual as a family, feeling like we were in Heaven already.

Nevertheless, there was this dangerous sensation I had whenever I casted my eyes on my last son, Samuel. He was seven then. To be honest, it wasn't a normal feeling because it appeared we have lost him already.

I forced myself to be happy, assuming all to be normal feelings I shouldn't nurse.

Even yet, the feeling metamorphosed tremendously to the extent that I started to cry in my heart. My husband soon observed my mood and asked me what was wrong but I told him I was just fine.

While everyone was in the sitting room, I called Samuel and took him into the room. There, I asked him if he was fine and he replied very smugly that he was okay.

Finally, it was night and we all went to bed. Still on the bed, I got great urge to pray but I waved it aside.

Not long after, I heard this loud and dying sound of my son, Samuel. At once, my heart jumped out as though I have been expecting that earlier.

Before my husband could get up, I was already in my children's room. I almost fainted when I saw Samuel vomiting blood while his older siblings cried and pushed him. I was there, crying and shouting.

Soon, my husband stormed. He rushed towards Samuel and held him. We were confused. The question was how we could revive him first before taking him to the hospital that night.

Suddenly, I started to pray with tears, holding my son tightly with my whole body soaked with blood. The defiant Jonah was now doing the necessary very late!

To even exacerbate it all, Samuel stopped breathing. I yelled and so with my other children. My husband hurriedly carried Samuel to the car and I joined along, leaving my children behind and we sped off the hospital.

There too, he was also confirmed dead. What I did was to make a solemn promise to God if he would hearken unto us and resurrect my son.

The doctor further informed us that he ate a dangerous poison. That was incredible!

We wondered about why the poison affected him alone. Just then, my husband's phone rang and it was his friend, panting as he talked.

He shouted at him not to eat a particular food he carried because it was meant for rats. My husband had mistakenly taken it, thinking it was his while they were at the event and everyone has been looking for it.

It suddenly dawned on them that Johnson my husband was the one that carried it and his friend had to alert him even though late!

To God be the glory, my son sneezed back to life and the doctor rushed to him at once and started to take care of him. He was finally revived.

Maybe he could have avoided eating that earlier on if I had prayed when I first received those feelings.

That is the reason why it is good to always listen to the Holy Spirit.

Well, the good news is that he is sound and glory be to God!