My Would-Be Assassin

What do you do when you discover that your own mother is trying to kill you?

My story began with a dream that bound me to the heart of Jesus and severed me from the heart of my mother. A dream that brought me the thrill of new life and the constant threat of death.

My name is Mariame Diallo. I’m 34 years old, and I live in Guinea, West Africa, with my young son. I’m a member of the Fulani tribe, and until five years ago, I was not a Christian.

At that time, all I knew about Christianity was that becoming a follower of Christ meant breaking a covenant with your family and could lead to your death. So, imagine my amazement when I saw Jesus in my dreams calling me to become a Christian!

Each time, He looked at me compassionately and said, “I am the way to life, come to Me.” And each time, I felt troubled by this irresistible source of power mingled with love.

I had these dreams so many times that I decided to look for a church to attend. But there are many churches in my city, and I didn’t know which one to choose.

Early one Saturday morning, a young girl knocked on my door. “I can show you a church to attend,” she offered in a hushed voice.

I stared at her in shock. Who is this child? I wondered, and how does she know that I’m looking for a church? Nervous yet excited, I followed her to the doors of a Seventh-day Adventist Church.

My little guide smiled reassuringly and beckoned me to enter. Then, suddenly, she disappeared! In that moment, I knew in my heart that it was really God who had led me to this church.

I loved my first worship experience and decided to attend church each Sabbath. But when my parents found out, they were furious. They disowned me as their child.

Then one day my mother brought my favorite stew as a peace gesture. I was so delighted to see her, I set the steaming bowl on the table and hurried back to see how she’d been doing.

“Aren’t you going to eat now?” she asked impatiently.

“Actually, I’d like to freshen up a bit first,” I ventured. “Let me take a quick shower, and then we can visit while I eat.”

“I’d like that, Mariame,” she replied, moving toward the door, “but I have many errands to run. Eat the stew while it’s still warm, and we’ll talk soon.”

I showered quickly and then rushed to the kitchen to enjoy my feast. But I was too late. A stray cat had climbed on my table, sending my precious meal crashing to the floor!

As I cleaned up the mess, I looked longingly at the beans and vegetables until an unfamiliar ingredient caught my eye. What is this? I wondered.

I was pleasantly surprised when Mother called later that evening.

“Mariame, how are you feeling?” she asked tensely.

“I feel fine, Mother, why?”

“Really?” she interrupted, sounding incredulous. “You don’t feel any pain or discomfort?”

Suddenly, I remembered the mysterious ingredient, and everything made sense. Mother had tried to poison me by consulting a marabout, a holy man believed to have supernatural powers, a common practice in my tribe.

I hung up the phone and struggled to breathe. I’d never imagined that my own mother would try to murder me. I poured out my heart to God, pleading for protection.

My parents have made several attempts to kill me since I was called by Jesus to Christianity, but He has always intervened.

I’m so thankful for His blessings. He’s given me a new life, a new family at church, and a new dream—to see my people, especially my parents, embrace Him as Savior and Lord. He’s even given me an opportunity to train as a Global Mission pioneer so that I can be part of making my dream come true!

Please pray that I will share Jesus faithfully in my community, that Jesus will continue to protect me, and that I’ll be able to plant a church among my people soon.

—Mariam