My Affair With Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo Of COZA – By Ese Walter


Keep an open mind as you read this
because this is just one side of the
story. A lady named Ese Walter
(pictured above) is accusing a pastor
with the Common Wealth Of Zion
Assembly of manipulating her sexually/
spiritually. I’m hoping to get the
pastor’s side of the story later…that’s if
he’s willing to talk. Read Ese’s story,
which she shared on her Blog, below…

This article contains stories that
most ‘church people’ don’t want
to address. So, if you are one of
those living in denial and
covering up crap going on in the
church, this is where you should
stop reading. Thanks for
stopping by.
Now, for the rest of us, please sit
down and switch on your open
mind. I want to talk about
something I have kept bottled up
inside for longer than necessary.
I have also decided to use real
names, as my defense for any
accusation of slander is
justification. I tell the truth, the
whole truth and nothing but.
However, feel free to throw your
doubt around but know that I am
past the shaming game (where
victims of abuse are shot down
by blame) I am no longer a victim
but a survivor who is sharing her
experience to help others caught
in same web of abuse, guilt and
shame. We only get to live once
right? So here, it goes…
I recently came to know this event too
was abuse (recently here means about 6
months ago). It has literally been
eating me up having to drive by
another billboard advertising
preachers, or hearing his name, or
even trying to ask about the validity of
the entire salvation story and whether
or not there is a God that truly
watches over his people. That being
said, I’m just going to say it as it is.
This is a recap of my affair with Pastor
Biodun Fatoyinbo of COZA (Common
Wealth Of Zion Assembly) Abuja
chapter. This affair I have come to
know as a form of abuse as you would
see the different elements of abuse very
I met Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo many
years ago. I was getting bored of the
church I was attending and someone
suggested COZA. At the time, I had
never heard about it. My friend said,
go there, I’m sure you would enjoy the
word. But he also gave me a strong
warning. He said he would advice that
I remain a member only and not join
the workforce. I agreed. The first time
I attended COZA, I felt it was my
church and decided I was going to
plant my ass there. About eleven
months had gone by and I was still
attending the services quietly and
faithfully. I really did like the church.
One day a worker in the church
approached me that the senior pastor
wanted to see me.
Me? I thought. Why would the senior
pastor want to see me? Not the second
man but the head nigga in charge? Ok
na! I started to think my sin was
oozing so bad the pastor could tell I
needed Jesus. (Poor old me.) I saw him
at the end of the second service (they
had two services at the time) and he
said to me that he would like me to
work with him. I knew I had no
intentions of becoming a pastor so I
had to ask in what capacity. He said
he’d like for me to join a department,
preferably the Pastoral Care Unit
A few weeks later, against my friend’s
advice not to join the workforce, I was
a PCU member. All of a sudden, I had
some status in church. I was
‘somebody.’ Dress had to be on point,
hair, shoes and what not… As
workers, we were literally trying to
outshine each other or so it seemed.
Anyways, I felt like I was a privileged
member of an elite circle. Hehehe. (It
did feel good though, for the most
About a year after joining the
workforce, I was on my way to
London for a Masters degree program
that would last two years. As was the
rule for workers travelling, I wrote to
say I would be away for 2 years and
Pastor Biodun Fotoyinbo asked that I
keep in touch by sending him my
number and email when I had settled
in London so he “makes sure I continue
in the faith” because according to him,
people loose their faith when they
leave home and he wanted to make
sure I didn’t. So, on that note, as soon
as I got a phone line in London, I was
sure to call ‘my pastor’ to say I arrived
safe, had settled in and also gave my
phone number.
We had spoken a few times especially
when COZA started to stream online. I
always watched and would give
feedback on quality of production and
share a little bit on the challenges I
faced settling in a new land. One
evening, Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo
called me that he was coming to
London and needed me to help him
make some hotel bookings as the
person who was meant to do it
couldn’t get it done (this was rather
strange as I had never been involved in
his travel itinerary) Later that day, he
said it had been sorted and my help
would not be required but that he
would like me to arrange a cab to pick
him up from Heathrow. I was happy to
help my pastor from Nigeria and even
saw it as a privilege. (I would later
come to learn that all of this was a
calculated attempt to hatch a plan that
I suspect was set in motion when I was
asked to join the workforce.)
The cab guy was there to get him the
next day and when he arrived, he
called to ask why I didn’t accompany
the cab to pick him up (again, this was
strange but I stopped my mind from
overanalyzing the situation as I knew I
had no business with his visit to
London) About two hours later, he
called me and said he would like to see
me. When I arrived his hotel, I called
from the reception but he asked that I
come upstairs. I got to the room and
tried to stop my mind from thinking
why I was going to his room. As he
opened the door and invited me in, I
had to speak to my heart to stop its
palpitations. My better judgment asked
me not to go into the room but the
kind of reverence I had for Pasotr
Biodun Fatoyinbo bordered on fear
and I steeped into that room.
“Care for a drink?” Asked Pastor
Biodun Fatoyinbo.
“No sir,” I said.
“You don’t have to be shy Ese, even if
it’s alcohol, feel free and order what
you want.” I wasn’t sure I heard my
pastor asking me to order alcohol. I
imagined it was a test and ignored the
voice inside that was saying, “I’d have
henny and coke please.” He proceeded
to ask how I had been coping in
London and if I was a committed
member of any church. He also said he
thought there was something special
about me and wanted to know that I
had not strayed from my faith. I really
thought he had heard I was doing
something I shouldn’t while in London
but tried my best to focus on the
conversation instead of my straying
thoughts. He kept telling me to relax
and feel comfortable with talking to
him. After a few minutes, he asked
that we go to the roof of the hotel as
his room was a pent suite and had a
connecting door to the roof.
While there, he sat on a reclining chair
and asked me to come sit on his laps.
This was a bit awkward for me and I
froze for a moment as I asked why. He
said he had told me to feel free with
him and loosen up. I found myself
strolling to sit on his laps. At that
moment, I felt like a little girl who was
experiencing something her mind
couldn’t fathom. He asked me to kiss
him and all I could think about was
seeing him preach on the pulpit back
in COZA Abuja, Nigeria, which was
my home church. He again said ‘feel
free Ese.’ And asked again, that I kiss
A few hours later, let’s just say, we
were rolling under the sheets. It felt as
though my mind had paused. I am not
saying I was jazzed, (although it’s
possible I was in some trancelike state
and didn’t know it but I just was so
afraid that I couldn’t say or think
otherwise.) That was the beginning of
this affair. A sexual affair that went on
for a little over a week, DAILY!
I can hear somebody’s mind thinking,
‘well, you weren’t raped.” And I
remember a pastor I opened up to
when I couldn’t take all the mind
games asking if I seduced him. No, I
didn’t seduce him and no, I wasn’t
raped but I felt trapped in this affair.
Come to think of it, how could I have
seduced him when I wanted nothing
from him? I mean, I was too busy
minding my business in London trying
to get through with my masters
program and I was overly comfortable.
And even if I wanted to seduce
anyone, it wouldn’t be a married man,
not to mention a married pastor.
What I couldn’t reconcile the whole
time, was how the same person who
preached against the very things we
were doing (i.e drinking in pubs,
fornicating, committing adultery) was
the same person endorsing and
encouraging it.
At some point, I got really confused
about what Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo
and I were doing that I had to ask how
he handles it. I will never forget what
he said to me. He said and I quote, “I
will teach you a level of grace that you
don’t understand.” My mind couldn’t
fathom that somehow grace was
enough covering for not just
fornication on my path, adultery on his
path and the many lies that was bound
to follow what we were doing that was
clearly abominable. I somehow dealt
with the thoughts and fears that
followed on my path. He had said to
me that he wanted me to be his
girlfriend and he would take me
around the world and spoil me with
money and things. Somehow, money
had never been one of the things that
motivated me (I am from a home
where all my needs have been
adequately met) In all my ‘badness’
through finding myself, I never did
things I did for money but more of
rebellion against rules and authority.
Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo also said to
me that he had a dream where I
exposed what was happening to the
media. Said it was all over the place
and that people were calling me the
girl that caused chaos in COZA. He
also said I should remember the bible
said to “touch not God’s anointed.” I
immediately started to rebuke the devil
and said I could never do anything like
that. I was almost swearing with my
entire family as I thought really I had
touched God’s anointed by submitting
my body to be used. Little did I know
at the time that all of these were ways
to mess with my mind and even
manipulate my thoughts.
Fast-forward a few months later, I was
back in Nigeria and my church had
become uncomfortable. Anytime I sat
in church and listened to Pastor
Biodun preach, I felt shame. I finally
sent him a message saying I wasn’t
comfortable anymore. I was confused
and needed to talk about what had
happened. He said I should meet him
to talk and I did. It was a really weird
meeting for me especially when he
tried to kiss me at our meeting. I
finally realized at this point that he
couldn’t help me. I thought God was
angry with me and I couldn’t pray so I
decided to withdraw completely from
COZA. This was the beginning of my
mental torture. I couldn’t talk to my
family because already, I was the only
one attending a different church and
somehow my mom never liked the
idea. As the days went by I tried to use
drinking and smoking to cover up the
deep shame and guilt I was battling
with. But as soon as the high was over,
the thoughts came back and I felt stuck
like I couldn’t move forward.
I felt I had to talk to someone and I
decided to speak to my then good
friend, Ernest Akale but unfortunately
for me, Mr. Ernest did not have the
capacity to hold what I said to him. He
broke down completely the days that
followed and I found myself having to
pause how I was feeling and what I
was struggling with to help my friend
be strong. After a while, he withdrew
from not just me but his then fiancé
and friends. I had to then tell the fiancé
what had caused it (she suspected we
were having an affair so I had to clear
the air) To my surprise she was a lot
stronger than her man and told me to
suck it up (I’m paraphrasing). She said
if she were me, she wouldn’t leave the
church but stay to torment Pastor
Biodun and collect money from him.
Ok! That sounded extreme for me, as
my intention was not to blackmail but
to heal my broken self. Anyways, I
finally found the courage to speak to
my then unit head who said he was
going to talk to Pastor Biodun but
didn’t have the liver to do so. Before
long, the story was spreading and
naturally getting twisted.
I went to a new church and it seemed
like the COZA bug had chased me
there. The pastor would always refer to
COZA as some example and each time
that was done, it seemed like a spear
was thrust through my chest. One day,
I broke down in the service and started
crying uncontrollably, as I couldn’t
take another mention of COZA and the
pictures it painted in my head.
Very long, boring story cut short, for
the last 5 months I gave the whole
church thing a big space and break. I
wasn’t sure I believed in God. I wasn’t
sure I understood what it meant when
people said ‘Jesus saves” and I
definitely wasn’t sure how to deal with
the mental torture that was affecting
not just me but my relationships with
family and friends. I was very unstable,
fearful and worst of all guilty. I got a
chance to talk to Pastor Folarin of
COZA Lagos Chapter, popularly called
Pastor flo about everything. I made an
effort to reach out to him because I
realized the right thing to do was talk
to an elder in the church and seek
some sort of remedy to a wrong I
believed had been done me.
Instead, Pastor Flo said, Pastor Biodun
had confessed to him and they had
‘talked’ about it and somehow that was
supposed to be Ok. He asked what it
was I wanted coming to talk to him
about it when I did, I told him I
realized what happened between
Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo and I was
wrong and not just that I felt abused
and manipulated. I also said I thought
it was wrong for Pastor Biodun to go
on preaching without taking time to
deal with his personal character flaws.
I said I thought he was danger to all
the young women that attended the
church. Come to think of it, maybe he
meant if I wanted something monetary
or material (as someone had suggested
when I opened up to her) but the truth
is, I never wanted his money (or is it
the church member’s money.) All I
wanted was to meet with him and have
him accept that he misled me, betrayed
his wife and the church he pastors. I
wasn’t the only lady in COZA who had
been a victim of his sexcapades and
manipulative patterns but I was the one
who could come back after months of
struggle with not just my faith but also
my affair with him. And I wanted to
set things right. I wanted to talk to
Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo maybe for
closure and I felt like I needed an
apology because he played the “touch
not my anointed” card to keep me
locked in guilt, shame and fear when
all along it was a calculated plan and I
dare say, it started when he asked me
to join the workforce.
Not to mention the audacity to talk
about teaching me a level of grace I
didn’t understand. I had no intention
of understanding a grace that would
permit me to go on doing things that
were wrong and what’s worse having
to carry the burden for almost a year.
Different surprising advises came up in
the weeks that followed the rumour
making rounds. I was told to hush
because Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo had
been a cultist in the past and could
send people to shut me up. All my so-
called friends in COZA withdrew from
me and treated me like I had the
plague. What was worse was Pastor Flo
finally saw my then pastor to ‘talk’
about what had happened with Pastor
Biodun and lied that it happened once
and was a mistake. My question then
became, ‘do these people even care
how broken I had become?’ ’do they
care about the emotional and spiritual
welfare of the people they were
pastoring?’ The sad answer was NO.
Most of us old members of COZA kept
leaving but they couldn’t care less.
What was important was to keep
growing the church and having more
and more cars with stickers that read
“More than enough.” Back then, I
always felt horrible when I saw
another car drive past me with the
sticker. I was breaking, I was
struggling but no one could help. All
they could do was ask me to hide so
Pastor Biodun’s goons don’t hurt me.
And then the interesting one was if I
had evidence to prove my claim. Let
me just say here that, it isn’t a claim,
it’s a confession to free me from all of
the guilt and shame I have had to live
with for no reason at all. (That being
said, I have evidence to prove all I have
said here, the latest being a 58 minutes
recording of my meeting with Pastor
Flo a few months back)
This is my confession and I cannot
begin to describe how much weight
has been lifted off of my shoulders just
pouring the truth out about what went
down. So, to all my ex COZA friends
gossiping about me, get your facts
right. To those who said they’d help
me deal with the pain but didn’t, I
forgive you, I have learnt how to deal
with it and I am doing just fine. To
those who fear for my safety saying
Pastor Biodun would send people to
shut me up, I really have gone past
fearing for my life. To live is gain and
to die is Christ (or how does Paul say
it again?) And to the only person who
ever supported me through it all, thank
you, I am learning to be brave. Please
don’t think I am perfect in all of this
but in line with living my authentic life
and putting all forms of abuse behind
me, this is where I press the stop
button and stop the bleeding. This is
where I break the silence and call the
church to stand up for what it has been
commissioned to do. If you will not
enter the Kingdom, please don’t stop
others who are trying to enter.
I still remember when I used to nurse
the idea of digging up emails, text
messages, hotel billings (as once I used
my card to pay for his room when his
master card failed to work) to prove
there was an affair. It was pathetic.
Why for the love of heaven was I
trying to dig up evidence? I am
satisfied setting the record straight. I
am ready for any shaming or bashing
that would follow because the truth is,
because of what I have suffered and
come through, I am really not moved
by what people say or think about me
anymore. I am a stronger woman and a
damn abuse survivor seeking to
connect with other victims of abuse to
show them how to deal with the
shame, hurt and guilt and how to come
out stronger. Turning their mess into
their message.
I am Ese Walter and I have gone
through all forms of abuse from family,
boyfriends, my ex pastor and some
strangers not to break me, but so I
stand and so I qualify to help victims.
My scars have qualified me and when
all is said and done, I will still be
standing. I AM WOMAN, I BEND, I
Cheers to the freaking weekend!!!

Posted By K2I


About iamk2i

IamK2I. A Radio OAP. Media Is My Life!!!

Posted on August 25, 2013, in News, Update. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

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