God Knows Best Who to Use To Help Us Not Us

I moved to Germany in 2017 for my Master's program, and there I met a Nigerian. Since I am Nigerian as well, logically I felt meeting another Nigerian to help me stabilise was a blessing. I am someone who is very introverted when it comes to having friends; I can't manage having lots of friends. So, I held on to this person, especially because we attended the same church, and I felt I could share my struggles with this person and get guidance on how to navigate these challenges, given that I was far away from home and he had be living here for more than 4 years already. To be honest, this person was very helpful in some ways, but the experience I want to share with you is one that I had which I believe God used to remind me that it wasn't about me finding who I think can be of help to me, but rather about me trusting Him to help me, and He can do this through anybody.

After studying for one year, I realised the two-year course I had come to Germany to study wasn't what I wanted. Meanwhile, I came to Germany through a blocked account of about 9,000 euros (money I saved up while working in Nigeria and support from my Dad). I was also paying school fees at this school, and I had 8,000 euros to pay per year. After one year, I got frustrated and decided to change schools so that I wouldn't spend 16,000 euros on a course that seemed like it wasn't what I wanted. At this point, I didn't have money again, and everyone told me that the new school I was moving to was in another state, and in order to change my residence permit to that school, I would have to provide proof of funds for immigration to make the change. I didn't know where to get another 8,000 euros for this, since that was how much the blocked account was at the time, and I had exhausted my funds.

I met the Nigerian guy and shared the situation with him, and he said the same thing to me — that I needed proof of funds — and now added that he would give me the funds. I thought my problem was solved. Two weeks leading up to my appointment, this person suddenly stopped talking to me. I had no idea what I had done wrong or what was going on; he just went silent, and it felt like he wanted me to come and beg him. The pride in me, knowing that I have a God, did not accept that. So, I prayed to God for help.

The week I was supposed to go for my appointment, as of that Monday, I had no clue where I was going to get 8,000 euros from. Meanwhile, my appointment was for Thursday that week. I met another Nigerian who was also in my school and shared my situation with him, and he tried to get his siblings living in Germany to help me with the funds just to show proof of funds, but they said they didn't have the money. I didn't feel bad; although I saw how disappointed he was with them, I understood that people who don't know me from anywhere wouldn't just give me money like that, so I tried to encourage him not to feel bad, but I appreciated him for trying.

While we were speaking, an Indian coursemate of mine joined us and asked what we were talking about. I grudgingly shared my situation with her. Then she said, why didn't I tell her about my situation — her Dad had sent her about 10,000 euros for her school fees, because she was also changing schools due to struggles with our course. She said if I just needed the money in my account, she could give me 8,000 euros out of that money for me to use for my proof of funds, and I could send it back to her after my appointment.

I was so shocked. I looked at her and said, "You know I am Nigerian, right?" (Because the narrative of Nigerians being scammers is not something new among the international community.) She said yes, and asked why I asked her that. I said, "What if I take your money and run away? You've only known me for one year, and you want to hand over part of your school fees money to me for a blocked account?" She said she knew me enough to know that I wasn't like that.

So, we started moving the funds, but this is how God works: by Wednesday, we had moved 5,000 euros to my account and were just about to complete the 8,000 euros, when something just told me to go for my appointment without the proof of funds. So, in confidence, I went for my appointment on Thursday morning without the proof of funds, and immigration never asked me for it. In fact, they asked me how many years' residence permit they should give me. I was shocked. When I said two years, since that is what I needed for my new two-year Master's program, the officer asked if I was confident I could finish the program in just two years, or if he should give me a four-year residence permit for the two-year program, just in case. I told him two years was sufficient, and he prepared everything and handed over my new residence permit to me.

I was so shocked that I had to ask the man if he didn't need proof of funds from me for this, and he said no, it wasn't necessary. Ahh, after all my worry. God altered the situation for me.

That weekend, I went to church and gave my testimony about what happened, and that Nigerian guy who had promised and then gone quiet came to talk to me after the service and congratulated me. I just looked at him, and in my heart I said, "Thank God,  God is not a  man." He had no explanation as to why he had stopped talking to me when he knew I needed the money he had promised, and I didn't even ask further.

God used this situation to remind me that He is in charge of my life, and I understood that by God allowing that Indian lady — someone I had just met in my class — to help me, it was His way of letting me know that He knows the best people to help my situation at every point in time. I just need to trust Him.

This lady went on to be a great help to me while I navigated my first three years in Germany. At some point, I also became homeless for one month, and the only option I had was to go and live with a guy — and I did not want to do that. God still used her to suggest that I stay with her for that one month, before I moved into the apartment I was supposed to move into.

Meanwhile, I had a church community, but help came from an Indian non-church member. After these experiences, I no longer look for familiar people to help me when I'm in a tough situation. I just look to God to send the right person to me, whoever that person might be. As long as it is from God, I know it will be great.