November 1st,
I've always known my name.
But today, I learned what it meant — and why the darkness is afraid of it.
***
The journey home was quiet.
Not the uneasy kind — but peaceful. Like the stillness before a divine download.
Anita sat beside me on the bus, still flipping through her dream journal. Tony had his earbuds in, softly humming worship. I could tell we were all thinking the same thing:
We needed clarity.
And we knew where we'd find it — at home, with the ones God had given us as mentors.
As soon as we stepped into the compound, my mom came running toward us.
"My children," she said, wrapping us all in a warm embrace. "You've been on my heart all day."
My dad, tall and composed, stepped out next. His eyes held the kind of fire that only years of prayer and warfare could birth.
"Come in," he said. "We've been waiting for you."
That evening, we sat in the living room — my mom, dad, Raymond, Melissa, Tony, Anita, and me. For the first time, it felt like family in the realest sense.
We told them everything — the visions, the gate, Mayumi, the names, the lecturer, the shadows.
They listened. Quietly. Carefully.
And then my mom turned to me.
"Sandra," she said slowly, "Do you know what your name means?"
I blinked. "Well… defender of mankind, right?"
She nodded, then knelt in front of me.
"That's not just a name. That's your mantle."
My dad joined her, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Hell fears you because your name isn't just a tag — it's a weapon. A declaration. You are a defender. You were born to interrupt darkness and stand in the gap for others."
My throat tightened. My heart beat loud in my chest.
"You've been chosen for this generation," my mom added. "And we will not let you carry this alone."
Then came the anointing.
A small bowl of oil.
Hands laid gently but with power.
A holy hush filled the room.
"In the name of Jesus," my father prayed, "we stir up the gift of God within you, Sandra. May the fire upon your altar never go out. May your name shake every gate of darkness it is spoken into. Defender. Watchman. Intercessor. Selah."
I wept.
But it wasn't out of fear anymore — it was a release.
I knew who I was now.
And that kind of knowing changes everything.
Back on campus that evening…
We stepped through the gate and instantly felt the shift.
Like static in the air.
Anita leaned toward me.
"You're carrying something different."
Even the security guard at the gate paused.
"Ah, welcome o," he muttered, squinting as though he couldn't figure out what felt off.
As we walked into the female hostel compound, a girl suddenly screamed.
Everyone turned.
A junior girl, convulsing near the hostel chapel. Her roommate ran for help, but I didn't wait.
"Hold her!" I said, running to her.
Tony and Anita rushed too.
I knelt, placed my hand on her forehead, and whispered one word:
"Peace."
She stopped instantly.
Eyes wide open. Breathing calmed.
The crowd around us fell into a stunned silence.
"What just happened?" someone whispered.
But I already knew.
***
They thought they could break me.
But I am Sandra.
Defender of mankind.
Bearer of fire.
And I'm only just getting started.