I work as a commercial driver for one of the major companies in Ghana, though I prefer to keep the company name anonymous. These past two months have been nothing short of traumatic. I nearly took my own life over a terrible mistake I made.

It happened one night when I picked up a passenger from Kokrobite. She was a Black American, headed to Osu. She chose the front seat, and as with most passengers, we naturally struck up a conversation.

She asked if I was married. I proudly said yes and showed her my wedding ring. I told her I had several children, which piqued her curiosity. She found it fascinating, especially since in her part of the world, large families aren’t common. She also mentioned she was in a relationship.

Then, out of nowhere, she asked, “Have you ever cheated on your wife?”

I smiled and confidently said no, because it was true. I never had.

She nodded and shared that she had also never cheated on her boyfriend.

Then came the unexpected: “Do you find me attractive?”

It was then that I really looked at her. She wore short, revealing clothing. Her thighs were exposed. She was undeniably attractive, and in that instant, I felt something shift.

Then she dropped the bombshell:

“If I asked you to sleep with me… would you do it?”

I was stunned. I kept quiet for a moment as my flesh began to wrestle with my spirit. She repeated the question. Out of ego, I replied, “Of course I’m a man, and you’re attractive, but I have a wife. I’ve never cheated.”

She responded, “I’ve never cheated either.” And for a few seconds, we sat in silence. But her words kept echoing in my mind. I began to feel a pull, an unusual, overwhelming desire.

As I dodged a pothole, her body tilted toward mine. That moment triggered everything. I felt aroused. I reached out and touched her thigh gently, testing her reaction. She didn’t resist.

So, I went further. I held her hand and placed it on my lap. She began to touch me too. That was the confirmation I thought I needed. Before I knew it, I pulled over and parked the car. For over thirty minutes, we gave in to lust, touching and playing with each other’s bodies.

We didn’t have sex. The only thing that stopped us was the absence of a condom. In hindsight, that was a blessing in disguise.

Afterward, I dropped her off at her destination. I asked for her number. She gave it, but when I tried calling, the line didn’t go through. I never heard from her again, and honestly, I thank God for that.

The days that followed were filled with guilt and torment. I couldn’t forgive myself. I had betrayed my wife, the woman who’s stood by me, loved me, and given me a family. The shame was unbearable.

I even stopped allowing women to sit in the front seat. I was terrified of ever making the same mistake again.

I was consumed by guilt. I couldn’t even talk to God, I felt too dirty, too ashamed. I just wanted to forget it ever happened. But the guilt wouldn’t let me rest.

What made it worse?

I’m a pastor.

Yes, a pastor. Can you imagine? Someone who preaches righteousness. Someone people look up to. I had no idea how easily I could fall. But even that wasn’t the worst of it.

Three weeks later, I tried logging into the ride-hailing app I use for work, but I got a notification saying my account had been placed on hold. I was confused… and then fear set in.

Later that day, the company called.

They said my account had been suspended, for a report of sexual misconduct and romance.

My heart sank.

It felt like my whole world was crashing down. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I have children. A wife. A home to support. The car I used for work wasn’t mine, it was given to me by the company on a “daily sales” arrangement. I had already paid over 60,000 cedis towards it, with the understanding that missing payments could cost me the car altogether.

I had no choice but to tell my wife something. I told her my account had been suspended. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the whole truth. She kept asking if it was real. I denied it, again and again. Not because I wanted to lie… but because I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her more or losing our marriage.

Still, I kept paying the daily sales, nearly 2,000 cedis, even with the app suspended, hoping and praying the issue would be resolved. I appealed the suspension, but after weeks of back-and-forth, my account was permanently denied. Money wasn’t coming in anymore. I couldn’t keep up.

Driving had always been my main source of income. The pressure crushed me.

Eventually, I confided in someone who offered to help. He said he could create a new account for me, so I wouldn’t lose the car or the money I had already invested. That gave me hope. But just when we were ready, he fell seriously ill. I nearly lost my mind.

A week later, he recovered and created the account. But before it could be approved, the company announced a system-wide freeze on all new accounts. I broke down. I cried. I felt cursed.

Still, another opportunity came up, another friend offered to help. But a mistake was made in the registration: the account was created using a wrong first name. It got rejected.

And that was it.

I lost the car.

My worst fear had become a reality.

At that point, I began to believe that everything happening was the consequence of my sin, that 5-minute moment of pleasure had destroyed my destiny. I spiraled into depression. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t pray. I couldn’t tell my wife. I wanted to die.

Yes… I wanted to end my life.

But just when I was on the edge, I looked at my little children, the very souls God had given me to nurture.

What would happen to them without me?

That thought stopped me.

Not long after, I came across Psalm 51, David’s prayer of repentance. It pierced through my heart. It felt like God was simply waiting for me to turn back.

I knelt and wept. For the first time, I genuinely broke before God. I confessed. I pleaded for mercy.

And I felt something I hadn’t felt in weeks, peace.

Then came a glimmer of hope. I received a call that another driver had returned his car, and there was a possibility I could be assigned to it. I rushed there, heart full of gratitude. But when I arrived, I found out the car had not been willingly returned, the driver had fallen seriously ill and was bedridden.

Despite needing the job, I couldn’t take that car. It didn’t feel right.

I told them, “I don’t want to take from a man lying sick. I want my own, honestly and rightfully.”

And just moments after I made that decision… another miracle happened.

A different driver returned his car willingly, stating he had travel plans and couldn’t continue working. That car became my restoration.

I received it. I bounced back. God had heard me.

I had lost much, but I gained something greater: a lesson I’ll never forget.

I now understand how dangerous compromise can be, how quickly lust can destroy a man’s life, and how merciful God is to those who turn back.

The End.