Hajjiya Binta Faruk’s Remarkable Journey of Faith and Transformation
Hajjiya Binta Faruk never imagined her life would one day become a testimony told across nations. Born into the Fulani-dominated Muri Kingdom, raised under strict Islamic tradition, and later married into the royal family of Borno, she seemed destined to live and die a devout Muslim.
But destiny had something else in mind—something louder than culture, deeper than religion, and stronger than every force that tried to break her.
The First Spark of a Storm
The beginning of her transformation came unexpectedly at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. Living with a Christian roommate named Chinwe, Binta felt irritated by her constant songs of praise.
“Come and join me sing hallelujah!” Chinwe would sing joyfully.
Binta, anger boiling, tore Chinwe’s Bible apart and beat her.
Chinwe picked up a torn piece, looked to heaven, and declared:
“Binta Jalingo… this Bible you tore—you will use it to preach the Gospel.”
Binta slapped her again, unaware that those words would one day chase her like a shadow.
Seven years passed. Her life moved on—marriage, work at NTA Yola, and the birth of her twin boys, Hassan and Hussain. Christianity, she believed, was foolishness. She destroyed Bibles for sport and rose to become Vice President of the Youth Wing of Jamaatu Nasril Islam.
Yet behind all her achievements, she noticed something she couldn’t explain:
Christians seemed to radiate a peace she couldn’t buy, earn, or silence.
The Night Heaven Interrupted
It was the early hours of September 25th, 1999, inside the palace quarters of her husband’s royal family. Suddenly, the room exploded with a blinding light. A mighty wind swept through, knocking frames and decorations to the floor.
Her husband reached for charms—“Hayaki”—but the wind violently tossed them aside.
Then a voice thundered like rolling waters:
“You have been baptized by the Holy Spirit.
Go and be TABITHA unto My people.”
Her husband heard nothing. She heard everything.
Fear gripped her. She tried to run from the voice, but it followed her for three days—calling her, summoning her, breaking her resistance piece by piece.
Finally, she surrendered.
And the moment she chose Christ… war broke out.
Persecution Begins
Her husband beat her, declared her an infidel, and barred her from seeing their twins. Her father traveled down from Makurdi—military belt in hand—to “correct” her. She lost her job at NTA under pressure from religious authorities.
Then came imprisonment.
Then the chains.
Then the assassination attempts.
Then the abandonment from her family.
Yet every time death knocked, God answered first.
A Visit From the One She Chose
One night in the hospital, after her father beat her unconscious, she awoke to a glowing figure—bright as the sun—touching her feet.
“Be bold. This is temporary. You will overcome.”
Strength entered her. Fear melted. Purpose took root.
Miracles That Defied Logic
Her life became a battlefield of supernatural interventions:
- Assassins froze mid-air, their cutlasses suspended until she prayed for their release.
- Kidnappers were stung by scorpions and begged her forgiveness.
- Her father shot at her, but the bullets dodged her and lodged into the wall.
- In prison, she led eight Muslims—including a cruel warder—to Christ.
- Letters for her release arrived miraculously from Abuja, without her appeal.
- Attackers saw visions—blood, oceans, fire—surrounding her home and fled in terror.
Her former husband, after leading killers to her home, died in an accident—confessing his intentions before passing.
Through all this, her heart remained steady:
“My life is in God’s hand.”
From Victim to Warrior
Today, Binta runs Tabitha Evangelistic Ministry in Jos, housing nearly 50 persecuted Muslim converts, aged between youth and 89 years old. Many come with ears cut off, beaten bodies, and stories soaked in tears—but she welcomes them as “Mama.”
Her mother, brothers, and even persecutors eventually embraced Christ after witnessing her unbreakable faith.
She dreams of planting a church in Saudi Arabia, where her sons live, and believes they will one day become pastors.
Because in her words:
“Moslems and Fulanis are my Jerusalem. If God pulled me out, I must go back for His people.”
A Final Declaration
Binta’s life is a tapestry of fire—unseen battles, unending courage, and unquestionable grace. And she ends her testimony with one unwavering truth:
“Jesus is Lord. He is my Shield and Protector.
If you believe this name is powerful—share it.”
The Genesis of my conversion started in the University of Nsukka. I, Hajjiya Binta, had a roommate called Chinwe. This lady loved praises; she would sing like this: ‘Come and join me sing Hallelujah.’ I was always looking for a way to deal with her.
One day, while coming from House Fellowship, she kept her Bible on my bed. I asked, ‘Who kept the Bible on my bed?’ She said, ‘Sorry, Binta.’ I, Hajjiya Binta, carried the Bible, tore it, and then I beat her.
She picked a piece of the torn Bible, looked up in tears, and called my name three times: ‘Binta Jalingo… Binta Jalingo… Binta Jalingo… this Bible you tore, you will use it to preach the Gospel.’
Then I slapped her again. I said, ‘It is your mother and your father that will preach the Gospel.’ She replied, ‘May the Lord have mercy on you, Hajjiya Binta.’
After seven years of her words, I, Hajjiya Binta, got converted on the 25th of September 1999. I was in the bedroom in Shehu’s palace, because I got married to the younger brother of the Shehu of Bornu. I was born into the Muri kingdom, which is mostly Fulani.
My mother, Hajjiya Aminat Jalingo, is of the Kutep tribe. Contrary to the Islamic tradition of multiple wives, my father married and maintained only my mother. I, Hajjiya Binta, am the fifth of nine children. My father lived in many parts of Nigeria, serving in the Army until 1996. My mother also worked with the Nigerian Medical Corps until her retirement in 1992.
I attended the Army Children School, Ikeja Cantonment, Lagos, completed my secondary education at Government Girls’ College Enugu, and studied Mass Communication at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN).
After my studies, in 1996, I worked as Programme Producer/Director with the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA), Yola. I got married on April 27, 1997, and God blessed us with a set of twin boys – Hassan and Hussain.
I, Hajjiya Binta, never believed that I needed salvation for any reason, because every Muslim is convinced that Muhammad was the last Prophet in the long line of those that Allah had sent before.
The Islamic Hadith (Mishkat) speaks of about 124,000 people who lived at various times in history. Twenty-eight of them are mentioned by name and most are found in the Bible. Since each of them was sent with a word from Allah to warn the respective people not to practice idòlatry, to live righteously and to consider the coming Day of Judgement, it is perceived by Moslems that Isa (Jesus), the one to whom is given the greatest prominence in the Qur’an, was like Ibrahim (Abraham), Musa (Moses) and most others sent to the Jews.
Therefore, when I heard Christians call Him, Lord, I became màd at them.
As a young girl, in the Secondary School and even as an undergraduate, I would delightfully pack copies of the Holy Bible and take them to Kaduna for destructiòn, I thought the Bible was dèmonic.
Many are still doing it today, I became the Vice President of the youth wing of the Jamaatu Nasril Islam. Very often, I saw Christians happy in every situation; yet, my success at school, which gave me the job at NTA, and brightened my chances of a good husband, could not bring me such peace and happiness.
Several people had talked to me about Christianity, but to me then, Muhammad was the final seal of the prophets. This was my pride as a Fulani girl who saw herself in the greatest religion of all time.
Qu’ran does not teach salvation in Jesus Christ, but it gives Him the greatest prominence. The wonderful statements in the Qu’ran are enough to compel one to search more about Him. The name Jesus (Isa) occurs about 25 times in the Qu’ran, and the title Messiah is used 93 times.
I hated anything that had to do with Christianity. I was always happy seeing a Christian unhappy and enjoyed hearing that Christians were suffèring, but on the 25th of September 1999, I was caught in a web. The day before, we attended the Friday prayers and all went well.
At about 1:30am suddenly, an unusually bright light appeared in the bedroom with a mighty wind blowing and throwing all the pictures and other valuables to the ground. My husband and I became afraid. He got up from bed, brought out charms, known in Hausa as “Hayaki”. He placed it on the ground, got hot charcoal and placed the charm on it, but the mighty wind threw it all down.
Before we could make out anything, a voice thundered, saying: “You have been baptized by the Holy Spirit. Go and be “Tabitha” unto my people”. I asked my husband if he could understand what the voice was saying, but he said that he did not hear any voice.
He later concluded that I belonged to a secrèt cult, which accounted for my hearing voice that he could not hear. He thought that I wanted to sàcrifice him or our set of twins. He got angry, took our twins to the guestroom and abandoned me in the bedroom.
I was very worried and couldn’t sleep. In the morning, again, I heard the voice saying: “Tell your husband that you have accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Saviour”. I said “No, I can’t. What has a Fulani got to do with Jesus Christ”.
I thought that demòns were after me. The thing happened again on 28th and 29th, and each time, there was an invitation to “come and serve”. So I told my husband that I would go to Church the following Sunday. “Not in this house”, he retorted, He might have received my word with shock, yet joy and peace flooded my heart at that time.
I knew what I was passing through and it would be disastròus for me not to do what God would want me to do for Him.
On Saturday, after speaking to him about it, I went ahead and bought for myself the first Bible I ever bought or read in my life, and hid it under my box. The next day, Sunday, I picked up my Bible, got into my car and drove to the nearby Baptist Church.
After the service, I came back and met my husband at home. I greeted him but he asked me where I was coming from; I wanted to lie, but heard a voice saying ‘what were you taught in the church today?’ It was “Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free” So, I told him that I was coming from the Church.
He got up in angèr, gave me a beàting, snatched the Bible from me and wanted to tear it but I told him of the dànger of tearing the Bible, so he stopped.
He was shocked because he knew that it was my role in the past. So he dropped the Bible in angèr and left till the evening. I brought out food for him as usual, but he kicked the food away and warned his sister that no one should eat the food I cooked in the house again for he had declared me an infidel and as a result, I would have nothing to do with the family, even with my own kids.
The next day, he went to fetch my father from Makurdi. As I welcomed my father, he too, started beàting me with his military belt and boots, until I was uncònscious and was taken to the hospital where I stayed for three days.
Wonderfully, on the third day, at about 2 am, the Lord appeared to me. I noticed a touch on my feet and I woke up trying to see who it was that touched me, but the face was shinning like the sun in such a way that I could not see his face. I only looked at Him from His feet to the chest. I was afraid and screamed for help.
One of the nurses came, prayed with me and asked me not to be afraìd again. As I said amen to her prayers, I began to speak in tongues for about three hours. I was saying things they could not understand. Some of them thought I was màd but a psychiatric doctor who was called in, confirmed that I was normal.
The figure appeared again. This time He said unto me, “Be bold, for this is temporary: you will overcome the temptation”. The fourth day, I was discharged from the hospital. On getting home, my husband gave me a divorce letter, which I collected with joy and told him. ‘I am married to Jesus.’
After that, I packed my things, including my two cars, kept them in someone’s house and travelled to Lagos. My husband took my twins to Saudi Arabia.
Not done yet, my father had the man that I had kept my belongings in his house arrested on the grounds that he had abdùcted me from my husband’s house. On hearing that, I returned to Jalingo and arranged his release.
Then, my father collected my cars and other belongings claiming that he bought them for me as wedding presents.
In trying to make me renounce my faith in Christ, the Management of the Nigeria Television Authority (NTA), Yola, had my appointment terminated, under pressure from my husband.
My father and some Islamic fànatics took me to one Alhaji’s house in Jalingo and there chàined my feet and my hands. After seven days, I was released, with a thrèat of dèath, if I went to Church again.
My mother arranged for my uncle, her elder brother to reconcile my father and me. As we went talking, my father got àngry, picked up his gùn and shòt at me.
As God would have it, the little movement I made at the sight of a gùn overturned the seat where I was sitting and I was pushed to the ground. The gùn sounded but the bullèts did not enter me but passed through the chair and to the wall.
Everybody was alarmed, my mother started weèping that he had killèd her only daughter. Later, my mother advised me to go and stay with her elder brother.
Being a moslem, he too was unhappy with me and made life difficùlt. Once, he threatenèd to kiìl me with a cutlass so I left his house for Lagos and later, Maiduguri.
I was denied my rights in the family; my father had me thrown into prisòn on false allègation. He had initially gone to a Sharia court but I protested against that since I am now a Christian. So, he took me to a Magistrate court at Hadeja.
The Magistrate ordered that I be remanded in prisòn for calling my father, my neighbour. I was in detention for six months without trial and bail until some Christians on prisòn visitation, learnt that I was there for becoming a Christian.
The matter was reported to the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN) Chairman who wrote a petition that led to my proper trial. The Magistrate sentenced me to two years imprisònment plus a fine of five thousand Naira.
One Christian Women Fellowship in the area paid the fine while I was taken to prison. That was September 5, 2000. Some inmates asked me to appeal but I told them confidently, that the Lord Jesus would do a great Appeal for me.
At midnight, I prayed: ‘Lord, I want you to deliver me from this prisòn before December. If you don’t, the people will ask me, where is your God?’ I reminded him of how He answered Hezekiah.
On October 2, 2000, less than a month after my imprisònment, a letter came from Abuja ordering my release and I was set free. My prisòn experiences brought me closer to God that I developed more faith in God’s ability to see me through.
After two months, I decided to go and share the Lord Jesus with my grandparents. The moslem youths were looking for me everywhere, to kilĺ me. They hid me until I couldn’t be hidden. I fled to the bush for four days.
On the fourth night, I woke up with a snake beside me. That day, I told God that I wanted to go back to Islam. I couldn’t continue like that in the bush but He quickly reprimanded me. He asked “Upon all the sufferings you’ve been through, you still want to go back? If I didn’t shut the mouth of the snake, wouldn’t it bite you while you slept? I repented and told him that I was sorry; I will never go back to Egypt”.
I found out that God actually took me to prisòn to teach me some things. One was to read the Bible and two, because of a female Christian warder who left and married a Moslem and God shut her womb.
In the prisòn, God told me in a dream that she was going to have a baby. When I told her, she became àngry, tòrtured me, called me names, but I kept praying for her, that the name of the Lord be glorified since I had said the Lord told me.
Later, she actually had the baby, and that converted her and her husband. Eight moslems in the prisòn gave their lives to Christ. They were baptized in the Holy Ghost before I left.
Seeing what the Lord used me to do in the prisòn, I knew that I would do better outside. One day, some moslem youths came and kidnàpped me. They laid me on the ground, raised their cutlàsses to kìll me but their hands remained hanging in the air.
That happened to three of them and the others fled. They were later taken to the police who wanted them killèd but I told them it was the Lord’s battle not theirs. I told them that I had forgiven them.
As I was leaving, they asked for their hands to be restored. I said “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, let your hands come down” and their cutlasses dropped. Today, they are Christians and live with me. On another occasion, another group of moslem youths kidnàpped me.
They were taking me to Sokoto. On the way, scòrpions emerged and started to sting them. They dropped me, begged me and even gave me money to take me back home. Yet on another occasion, they kidnàpped me and wanted to injèct me with poisònous material but they couldn’t find those materials and had to let me go.
The Bible says we must start from our Jerusalem. Moslems and Fulanis are my Jerusalem. Many of them live in ignorànce, not having heard of Jesus till today. And if I am one of the fortunate ones that God brought out, I need to go out and say something to them.
That is why I say I would fight the cause with my bl00d. I am not limiting myself to Nigeria; I intend to go to the Middle East, planting a church in Saudi Arabia where my children are. I tell God that my children in Saudi Arabia are Ambassadors of Christ and they must become Pastors in Saudi Arabia.
So, any time I hear a moslem is converted somewhere and is persècuted, I take them in. I have forty-nine under my roof right now.
They call me “mama”. The oldest is eighty-nine years. She became a Christian and her children threw her from upstairs to dìe, but God preserved her. A Pastor found her and brought her to the centre. Some come with their ears cùt òff, others are stripped nàked etc. I pray for people to join me in this crusade. Thank God. He is raising men among the coverts in the centre and in my family.
My immediate elder brother who is a soldier has become a Christian. My mother became a Christian since 2002. My elder brothers who wanted me dèad or back to Islam are now Christians. One of them, a Senior Lecturer at the University of Maiduguri had to relocate to Imo State because of pèrsecution.
I testify that Jesus is Lord. Some people came to àttack us. The first time they came, they saw a pool of bl00d: the house became a pool of bl00d. The second time they came, the house became plain land. The third time, they saw ocean. The last time, the house became a pillar of fire.
Sometime later, something happened that led to their arrest and the Commissioner of Police sent for me. On getting there, the police brought the criminàls who said that I didn’t know them but they knew me. They were all Moslems, some of them from Republic of Niger.
They then narrated how they had to attack me, but I was delivered by the Lord. That day, the Commissioner of Police lined up his men in the office and asked me to pray for them.
Instead of leaving me alone, my former husband began to persècute me. While leading some assàssins to my place to kìll me, the vehicle in which they were travelling was involved in an accident.
He, alone dièd in the hospital after confessing that he wanted me dèad for I was bringing shame to his name. It pains me because both of us were in the same room the day I heard the voice.
After that I prevented him from destròying a copy of the Bible, something I used to enjoy doing. He knew how violènt I was, destròying Christendom. He should have learnt a lesson from my conversion and repented. That is how many others diè without repentance even though they are exposed to the gospel.
The good Lord who is always my Shield and Protector will always save and hide me in His shadow. My life is in God’s hand.”
Binta Faruk Jalingo was a staff of the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) Yola. She runs Tabitha Evangelistic Ministry, a home for the persècuted (Converted Muslims) in Miango, Jos Plateau State, Nigeria.
I don’t know how your feeling will be but as for me, the name Jesus is the most powerful, if you believe the same, then share this with others.”
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