My Boyfriend’s Money Ritual Destroyed My Children’s Minds
I am writing this because the truth has been burning inside me for too long. I never thought I would one day sit down and open my heart like this, but life has pushed me to that point. Maybe sharing will help someone out there who is walking into the same darkness I walked into.
I met him online — a smooth-talking man from Nigeria. He called himself a businessman, but everything about him felt spiritual… different. He spoke about blessings the way normal people speak about weather. He told me that success was not luck, it was “alignment.” At that time, I was struggling, desperate, and tired of watching my life fall apart piece by piece.
He came into my life when my heart was weak.
After months of talking, he convinced me that my problem was not physical — “It is spiritual,” he said. “You are blocked. Your household is blocked. For you to rise, everyone in your house must be spiritually released.”
I didn’t understand what he meant. I only understood the part where he promised money, stability, and protection. I was tired of poverty. I was tired of feeling like life was swallowing me. So I listened.
That was my mistake.
He gave me instructions. Strange instructions. I had to wake up at midnight for seven nights. I had to mix herbs he sent. I had to burn certain clothes. I had to stay away from my own children for hours while chanting his words on the phone.
He told me I was “lifting myself higher,” but the whole time it felt like I was pulling my family deeper into something I didn’t recognize.
On the last night, he said the words that changed everything.
“Your children must sacrifice their childhood energy,” he told me.
“Do not worry — it is not physical. They will only lose the part of them that blocks your wealth.”
I was confused, but he insisted it was harmless. He said it was only a “spiritual exchange,” that everyone who succeeds does it, that even he did it for his own mother.
I trusted him.
I allowed him to pray over a video call while my children slept. He told me to place my hands on their foreheads. He told me to repeat every word after him. I did. I didn’t think anything would happen.
But something did.
My kids started changing slowly. Forgetting things. Acting lost. Talking to themselves. Their eyes looked like they were carrying a heavy shadow. Teachers asked me if everything was okay at home. Family members whispered. I kept lying.
One night, my youngest woke up screaming, saying someone was calling her name from a dark room.
My heart broke.
The more I cried to him, the more he told me “This is normal. It is a sign that the ritual is working.” The more I complained, the more he blamed me:
“You opened the door, now you must finish the process.”
But something inside me finally woke up. A voice that had been silent for too long. I realised I didn’t gain anything. I didn’t get rich. I didn’t succeed. I didn’t find peace.
All I gained was guilt.
The “sacrifice” he talked about was not a ritual — it was my children’s peace of mind. It was their innocence. It was their sense of safety. I gave away the one thing that mattered, for a promise that never came.
Today my kids are still healing. Some days they are fine. Some days they are not. I am learning to forgive myself, even though the wound is deep. I cut all contact with him. I blocked him. I deleted everything. But his words still echo in my mind sometimes.
If you’re reading this and someone is telling you that money needs rituals, sacrifices, or “spiritual exchanges” — run.
Nothing is worth your peace, your family, or your soul.
I learned the hard way.
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