October 10th,
Sometimes the real enemy doesn't knock with fists.
It smiles politely.
And waits for you to ignore the unease in your spirit.
But we are not ignorant.
Not anymore.
***
Anita was quiet as we walked back to the hostel, her arms folded tightly like she was holding something in. When we reached our room, I sat on the edge of my bunk, waiting.
She paced a few more times, then finally blurted, "Sandra… something's off with that lecturer."
My heart thudded once.
"What happened?"
She told me — every word, every stare, every cold undertone. My spirit stirred the moment she described how he offered to "help."
I reached for her hand.
"Anita, I'm so glad you told me. I need you to know — that wasn't just a weird conversation. That was a setup. A spiritual one."
She nodded slowly. "I felt it. Like he wasn't speaking to me, but… testing something inside me."
I smiled gently and squeezed her hand.
"Then you passed."
We prayed. Together.
I led softly, but with heat building in my spirit.
"Father, expose every hidden voice of darkness in this school. Every one masquerading as light — silence them. Guard Anita's heart. Guard her mind. We declare, no manipulation will prosper."
Anita's voice rose, steadier than I expected.
"Amen. And any hand stretched toward our purpose… let it wither in the fire of God's judgment."
Later that night, Tony pulled us into the common lounge, face unusually serious. He held out his phone again.
"The verse came back," he said.
"Arise, shine, for your light has come…"
Isaiah 60:1
He sat. "This isn't just comfort. I think it's a strategy."
I sat beside him, heart racing. "What's the full verse?"
He opened the Bible app and read aloud.
"Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord rises upon you."
I felt it again — that gentle spiritual pull in my chest.
"This is instruction. We're not just here to survive… We're here to shine."
Anita leaned forward. "So… how do we do that?"
"We rise. We pray. We speak. We obey. Even when it's uncomfortable."
As we stepped out for a prayer walk that night, a strange silence lingered around the department block. Lights were out on some floors.
Tony slowed his steps. "Guys. Look."
Through the slightly open office window of the Creative Writing faculty, we saw him.
Darrey.
Inside the office.
With the same lecturer Anita had spoken to.
They were laughing quietly. The lecturer handed him a brown envelope. Darrey nodded and tucked it into his backpack.
My skin chilled. We kept walking like we hadn't seen anything, but our spirits stirred.
***
We're not crazy.
We're chosen.
We're not paranoid.
We're discerning.
And the moment darkness begins to gather in secret...
Is the moment we start shining in public.