In 2010, my life changed forever when a
devastating earthquake struck Haiti. Over 300,000 lives were lost in less than a minute, and where I was, around 500 students and professors were buried alive. Miraculously, I walked out with nothing but dust on my face. My family lost everything, and we slept on the streets.
I had my life planned out: I was pursuing my degree in auto mechanics, studying business management, and dreaming of running the biggest mechanic shop in Haiti.
One of the darkest parts of my past was tied to voodoo, a spiritual force that sought to enslave and control. It was in these formative years that I began my battle with spiritual darkness.
After several years, my eldest brother became deathly ill. Instead of taking him to the hospital, my mother took him to Jacmel to see a voodoo priest, a man who claimed he could heal him by removing a spell. Jacmel is a port town in southern Haiti where my extended family lived. In Haiti, when someone falls ill, the first thought that crosses their mind is that they’ve been cursed, and the only solution is to find a powerful voodoo priest who can remove the curse.
The voodoo priest agreed to help my brother—but only if my mother became one of his concubines. Desperate, my mother agreed. As the youngest in the family, I accompanied her everywhere, and that’s when I started to learn the ways of voodoo. I was taught how to call on spirits, what offerings to give, and the rituals required to invoke and appease them. I was being groomed to become a voodoo priest myself.
My older sister came to rescue me from this spiritual bondage. She took me in and brought me to Port-au-Prince, sparing me from this dark fate.
In 2011, after surviving the massive earthquake in Haiti, I came to North America to pursue a Bachelor of Biblical Studies. It was there, in the land of relative peace and comfort, that I realized spiritual warfare wasn’t just something I had encountered in Haiti—it was real, and it was alive, even in the West. Many North Americans lived under the illusion that spiritual warfare was a distant concern, that it was something “out there” and not something that needed to be addressed in their everyday lives. But I had witnessed its power firsthand, and I knew the truth: spiritual warfare is not bound by geography or culture—it’s a universal battle.