DAVID'S pov
I felt so light.
Every day after that was different like the chains on my soul had broken. I walked lighter, even though the prison walls remained the same. The pastor and I spent days talking, preaching, sometimes just sitting in silence. I started joining him in the small prayer circle during free time. The bullies didn't come around anymore maybe because they saw something in me, or maybe because God had placed a shield they couldn't see.
Then one night, I dreamt again.
I was under a tree a massive one with golden leaves that shimmered like stars. The ground was soft beneath me, and I was dressed in white. Not prison white. A holy kind of white that gave me joy just by looking at it. No stains, no dirt just peace.
The man in white appeared once more, light shining from His face, His robes flowing like the wind obeyed Him.
"My child… how are you?"
"I'm fine," I replied, smiling like a child seeing their father after a long time.
He nodded, a warm smile playing on His lips. "Since you accepted me, you've been feeling so free."
I nodded. "Yes, Master. It's like I can finally breathe."
Then He stepped closer, His eyes piercing through me with love so deep I couldn't hold His gaze.
"I will use you to reach nations," He said. "You will catch fishes… not of the sea, but of men. I will make you the greatest fisherman."
"Nations?" I asked, confused. "But I'm here… in prison."
He chuckled. A sound like music. "Watch me."
He began to walk away, light trailing behind Him like morning sun breaking through the clouds.
Then He stopped. "Ask anything, and I will give it."
I thought hard. I could have asked for freedom, money, or even a second chance at life outside these bars. But my heart went to someone else.
"My new friend, Peter…" I said softly, then louder, "Help him, Master. He is too innocent to be here. Please, sir, help him."
I dropped to my knees. "Please."
He looked back at me with the gentlest eyes, and smiled. A knowing smile.
Then He gave a small nod.
I walked out to the prison yard where Peter was working. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he dug into the hardened soil. The sun was unforgiving, but his spirit had never bent.
"Peter," I called softly.
He looked up, squinting, a small smile on his face.
"Don't worry," I said, stepping closer. "You'll be out soon."
He exhaled and chuckled faintly. "Well… amen to that."
Days passed like a whirlwind. Peter and I moved from cellblock to cellblock, sharing the Word, capturing souls with nothing but truth, love, and broken testimonies healed by grace. Hardened men softened. Some knelt in tears. Some simply sat in silence as the presence of God filled those cold, grey walls.
We preached not just salvation, but love. Forgiveness. Hope.
Then one afternoon, Peter came rushing into the cell, breathless, his eyes wide.
"David!" he shouted. "They found something—a camera! A security camera from an office besides my wife's office!"
I shot to my feet. "What?"
He could barely contain it. "The footage showed a man running out, blood on his shirt. Minutes later, it showed me walking in… holding the bag of food I bought for her." His voice cracked. "David… they caught him. He confessed. He killed her."
I stood there, stunned. My chest tight with joy and disbelief.
"All charges are dropped," Peter said, trembling. "I'm a free man now."
Tears fell from his eyes like a broken dam. He laughed, wept, and hugged me tightly. Then he pulled back and looked into my eyes, searching.
"You saw this coming… didn't you?"
I smiled gently, not saying a word. Instead, I turned and walked into our small cell, knelt down, and whispered a prayer of thanks with all my heart.
A few days later, around noon, Peter stood in front of me dressed in his release clothes. The gates were open. The sun called him.
"I'll miss you," he said, eyes glistening.
I took his hands and smiled. "Don't worry… God has plans for me too."
He nodded slowly, the kind of nod that carried understanding deeper than words.
Three months later…
The sun rose like any other day, casting faint golden rays through the barred windows. But something had shifted within the prison. It was quieter now. Softer. A place once filled with curses and violence now echoed with prayers and worship.
Peter was gone, but his memory lingered like firelight. That day he walked out free, I felt something light up in my spirit as if God Himself whispered, "Now it begins."
I started small.
Just me… and the Word.
I'd gather a few inmates in the yard under the mango tree. We'd read a verse. Talk about it. Pray. Some came for the peace. Some came out of curiosity. But the number kept growing.
The officers noticed. One of them, Officer Ken, approached me one evening. "David," he said, arms crossed. "I don't know what you're doing with these boys, but fights have reduced. Even the worst of them dey calm."
I smiled. "It's not me, sir. It's Christ."
He stared at me, shook his head, then walked off. But I saw him watching from afar during our next gathering.
One day, a young boy was brought into the prison barely twenty, scared out of his mind. The moment I saw him, I remembered myself, nine years ago.
I walked up to him slowly, handed him a plate of food, and said, "You're not alone."
That night, he gave his life to Christ.
Word spread.
By the sixth month, we had a proper service going. Worship. Bible study. Counseling. Even officers started joining quietly, standing at the back with bowed heads.
We called ourselves "Light Behind Bars."
One of the inmates, Chima, could sing with a voice that melted hearts. Another, Ugo, used to be a teacher he helped those who couldn't read the Bible. A third, Sani, began drawing Gospel comics, passing hope through art.
We weren't just prisoners anymore.
We were disciples.
One night, as I laid down to sleep, the familiar figure in white appeared in my dream again. This time, we were on a stage. I was holding a microphone, speaking to a large crowd. Men in suits, women with tears in their eyes, and rows of youths clinging to every word.
The man smiled at me and said:
"You thought prison was the end but I planted you here so you could grow. From here, I will send you far. Nations will know your name, but only because you carry Mine."
I woke up with tears running down my face.
Lord, I whispered, I'm ready.