A Widow Finds Hope in Cameroon

She lost her family in one day—how this widow finds hope in Cameroon

(Trigger warning: This story contains an account of violence and death)

The Far North region of Cameroon is the country’s poorest region, bordering Nigeria to the west and Chad to the east. And for Christians who live there, the area has become synonymous with fear and risk. Since 2013, the Islamic extremist group Boko Haram has terrorized rural villages in the Far North, launching repeated attacks—the triangle-shaped area is so vulnerable to attack that it has been designated as a “red zone.” One Christian from the region even commented that at night, most of her village leaves to sleep in the mountains, braving snakes and insects, fearing yet another attack from Boko Haram.

For 25-year-old Adija, who grew up in the red zone, the threats and devastation have become all-too-familiar. Her village in the Mayo-Sava division has experienced repeated attacks. She knew that when fighters stormed the village, they would first fire gunshots, sending the population fleeing out of the village into hideouts and neighboring villages.

“When we return, we find our property and food gone,” she said. “We can only start afresh with hopes that one day, things will return to normal.” 

But on July 7, 2022, everything changed. She recounts the details of that day:

She and her husband, Isaac, were home with Isaac’s father, their two children (4-year-old son Gabriel, and 2-year-old daughter Matah). Married six years, Adija and Isaac were expecting another baby and were living with his father.

“That day, we did not hear their guns as usual,” she recalls. “They just suddenly entered our house, and they first shot my father-in-law. They had been trying to kill my father-in-law because he is the head of the house, and we are Christians. We live close to the road and my father-in-law had [already] escaped three times.”

Wiping tears away, her voice grows softer until she’s talking in whispers. “When my husband heard the gunshots, he carried our son and tried to flee. Just as he lifted him, a bullet hit Isaac and he and our son fell to the ground. I tried to run with our daughter, but another bullet had already gotten to her. I just kept running … running with the last breath I had, hoping to save myself and my unborn baby.”

While the attack on her village continued, Adija hid behind a mountain of rocks for about 20 minutes, she says. “After everything seemed calm, I returned to the house. I hoped that [my family was] still alive, that they were just wounded. I tried to wake them all up, my husband, my father-in-law, my son, and my daughter.”

Adija saw that her son was still alive. With help from other villagers, she took her child to the hospital. But the wound was too severe. He died the same day as his father, grandfather and sister. That humid day in July, five-months-pregnant Adija became a widow at age 25.

Walking with Adija

When Open Doors teams met Adija three months after the attack, they could see the young woman had already lived a lifetime of pain. She was eight months pregnant, living in another village with her father. After the attack, she developed chronic pain under her abdomen, limiting the time she could spend working on her father’s farm. She was selling the few crops she harvested, using the proceeds to provide for herself, the baby in her womb and her father.

During a relief distribution to more than 400 Christian families internally displaced from their homes by violence, our teams provided emergency relief to Adija.

“I thank those who brought me these things,” she said. “I received this Bible, soap, oil, rice, fish and millet. I say thank you to these people who sent them.”

Your gifts and prayers have enabled our teams to continue to walk with Adija, being present with her in her pain and offering practical help. A month after our first visit, we brought baby items and money to help Adija prepare for the baby’s arrival. At that time, her greatest prayer was to see her child born safely. Four weeks later, in November 2022, she gave birth, thanking God for a healthy baby girl. 

Recently, we visited her and her new daughter and gave her more funds to start a tiny business. She was grateful for God’s work in her life and the support of her Christian family around the world. 

Like many of the persecuted Christians Open Doors meets, Adija continues to cling to Christ and the hope of heaven. She still struggles with fear: “I am afraid at night, so sleep does not come, and we spend the night sitting [awake]. Help me in prayer for safety as well as for my well-being,” she asks. Despite the insecurity she feels, she firmly believes that God has kept her and the baby alive for a reason. And when the memories of that day overwhelm her, she says she finds comfort and strength in the knowledge that she’s not alone. 

This is the difference you’ve made in this widow’s life and the message she will pass on to her daughter as she grows. Adija knows she is cared for and prayed for by her local church and pastors—and her worldwide Church family. 

“I find strength,” she says, “in knowing that you know me, care for me, suffer with me and provide for me.” 

Pray with us for Adija and the church in Cameroon:

• Join us in thanking God for the encouragement and relief to Adija, as well as other affected families in Cameroon’s Far North region.
• We thank God for the safe delivery and new life of Adija’s baby. May she grow up to know God and walk with Him every day.
• Please pray that Adija would know and feel God’s healing presence and comfort.
• Pray for Adija’s small business. Ask God to provide her daily needs so that she can care for her family.
• Pray that Adija’s relationship with God and her faith in Him will grow exponentially. Pray her testimony will be salt and light in an area where there is much darkness.
• Pray God will be glorified in and through this horror and that Adija will see how He is using this tragedy and her life to work all things together for good (Romans 8:28)