FROM CONFUSION TO CLARITY
Olufe during the 2023 IHS camp held in Lagos, Nigeria
Every year, as December winds down and the 26th approaches, my heart races with excitement and anticipation. No matter where I am or what’s on my plate, I always make time for the In His Steps (IHS) camp. But this commitment didn’t start overnight—my journey with IHS began during a confusing, difficult chapter of my life.
I met Christ at a young age, with all the fervour and zeal you’d expect from a child on fire for something bigger than themselves. I poured my heart and soul into serving in His vineyard, tackling every task with determination. But behind that fierce dedication, a storm was brewing. I had questions—so many questions—and the answers I craved seemed just out of reach, leaving me with an ache I couldn’t ignore.
On the outside, I had everything a young believer could ask for: a strong Christian upbringing, a missionary school education, and a circle of supportive, like-minded friends. It should have been enough to anchor me, right? But instead, I felt myself drifting, questioning everything I’d once held dear. It was as if my beliefs, the very core of who I was, were slipping through my fingers. And during this struggle, I was still there in church every week, still leading, still giving it my all. People were blessed by my efforts, and yet, inside, I was drowning in an identity crisis, barely holding it together.
Amidst this chaos, I met a senior friend, someone who saw beyond my polished surface and recognized the passion I brought to every role and every project. He approached me one day, saying, “Olufe, there’s a group I think you’d really benefit from joining…” His words lingered in my mind. Skeptical but curious, I wondered how this group could be different? Was it worth it, or was it just going to be more of the same—a place where I’d give and give, only to leave feeling empty?
Every community I’d been in had dismissed my doubts, shunned my struggles. I’d learned to fear vulnerability, to keep my inner turmoil hidden, because if I dared to admit that “I’m struggling, I’ve sinned, I don’t know how to find my way back,” the response was isolation. But something about my friend’s invitation pulled me in, and despite my doubts, I joined IHS.
Olufe during the 2021 IHS camp
I came in ready to label them, ready to see the same cycles of judgment and silence because I had so much emotional baggage weighing me down. My defenses were really high, ready to dismiss it as just another fellowship where I’d feel drained and misunderstood. But from the moment I walked in, it was different. The warmth, the openness—it felt like stepping into sunlight after months of gray skies. This was a place where people cared, truly cared, and didn’t shy away from life’s complexities. A place where faith and understanding went hand in hand. Here, they welcomed questions, encouraged discussions, and celebrated not just our spiritual growth but our lives, our ambitions, and our passions. For the first time, I found a Christian community that didn’t just tolerate questions—they encouraged them.
Olufe (sitting 1st left) at the 2022 IHS Camp held in Ilorin, Kwara State
Growing up, I’d somehow absorbed the idea that success and self-improvement weren’t particularly necessary in a life of faith. I believed that I was fine as long as I had Jesus, that all would fall into place if I focused solely on Him and the church. My world had been so small, and I hadn’t even realized it. I thought I was being diligent, but I was shrinking myself to fit inside a box I’d built from misconceptions.
Over time, God began to gently peel away those old beliefs, reworking and reshaping me. He chipped away at my walls, redefined my beliefs, and showed me what it meant to live fully, both spiritually and personally, how to be a happy balanced Christian. The funny part is that my IHS community had no idea of my turmoil. No one announced, “Hey, Olufe has some issues; let’s all show her extra love!” Instead, they simply did what they did best in their natural state: they loved, without question, without reservation, without prejudice. I found people who believed in me, a family that walked with me as I discovered who I was meant to be in Christ. They showed me that I didn’t have to choose between my faith and the life I wanted to live—I could have both.
Olufe (1st from left, front row) with some IHS members
IHS was the embodiment of the Christian community I had yearned for—a place to question without fear, to grow without judgment, to become not just a servant but a whole, fulfilled person. They didn’t know my story, didn’t see my baggage, and yet, they loved me all the same. It was the quiet, unconditional kind of love that heals without judgment.
In IHS, I found my family. A family that has taught me the beauty of faith in action, the joy of support without expectations. They gave me the courage to pursue dreams, to excel, to dress with confidence, to carry myself with pride. They showed me that I didn’t have to choose between faith and excellence; I could have both. Here, I learned what it meant to stand before kings, not by sacrificing my beliefs, but by embodying them.
Olufe (2nd from left) with some of her IHS sisters (Wande, Somisola, Abimbola & Funmi)
So, if you see me each December, bags packed and ready to go for IHS camp, better believe that is the only place I would rather be. Because it is home!