Mark Loncar

The Story of Androwas: A Nigerian Boy Who Chose Jesus Over Life Itself. There are stories that quietly dismantle what we think we know about faith. Androwas’s is one of them. When Global Christian Relief sat down with him in an Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp in Nigeria, he was 16 or 17 years old. He walked with a stick because a truck accident had crushed and eventually claimed his foot. He owned almost nothing—no mattress, no belongings, barely any food. His room was bare walls and a dirt floor. Yet when asked about his faith, he recited Psalm 23 from memory and said simply: “I wasn’t scared. I believe in God. No harm will come to me going forward." This is the story of a boy who lost nearly everything—except the one thing that mattered most. Androwas was just 7 years old when Boko Haram came to his village in northeastern Nigeria. He remembers sitting inside the house with his grandmother and two baby twins—his uncle’s children. Their mother had died; the uncle had remarried in Cameroon. It was an ordinary night until the gunfire started. The militants went door to door. They fired indiscriminately. Screams filled the air. Flames rose. Androwas grabbed one of the twins and ran. A neighbor snatched the other. They fled into the bush as night fell, sleeping among rocks and snakes, praying they would not be found. They spent nearly a month hiding in the bush, hungry, exposed, watching their village burn behind them. The attackers looted everything useful and set the churches ablaze. They killed the pastor of the church behind Androwas’s house. “Deny Jesus or Die” Then came the moment that still stops people cold. Boko Haram gathered the survivors and issued the ultimatum: “Would you deny Jesus or not? If you don’t, we are going to kill you.” They pointed one direction for those who would keep Christianity and another for those who would convert to Islam. “We all went that way,” Androwas said of the Christian path. “We said no, we would never abandon our religion. We would rather die and we told them to kill us.” Almost the entire group chose death over denial. Only one woman stepped forward to convert. She was the only one they shot. A 7-year-old boy watched it happen. He had already lost his home, his church, his pastor, and nearly everything he owned. When asked if he ever considered giving up his faith to end the nightmare, his answer was immediate: “Yes, we would rather die than become a Muslim. How can we become Muslims? Even our laws are different.” He later described choosing Jesus as the easier choice. Androwas and his family eventually crossed into Cameroon and spent about a decade in a refugee camp. At first there was food and some shelter. Later the aid dried up. People starved. His uncle kept risking trips back to Nigeria to farm and bring food. Eventually the family decided it was better to return home and trust God, even if it meant dying of hunger in their own country. On the journey back, near Mubi, the truck they were riding—overloaded with people and scrap metal—lost its brakes on a mountain road. Androwas was thrown out. An engine landed on his leg, crushing it against a rock. The veins tore; the joints shattered. Doctors amputated the foot. He was still a teenager. He arrived at the Nigerian IDP camp with nothing. The community that had also lost everything pooled what little they had to help pay for his medical care. He learned to walk again with a stick. Faith That Has Walked Through the Valley Sitting in that bare room, Androwas was asked how his faith had carried him. He did not hesitate: “Everyone who met us would always pray for us and deep in my heart, I believe God has answered our prayers. Through all my hardships, I am grateful to God. I wasn’t scared. I believe in God, and no harm will come to me going forward.”