Did I ever tell you how God saved me from a kidnapping situation when I visited another country? Oh, buckle up—this one is a doozy.
I call it: The God Who Protects
So there I was, in the capital city of a foreign land, fresh out of a meeting with my bosses. We were discussing how to advance our CLC mandate to impact lives for God using literature in this new country. It took us the whole afternoon to wind up, and culminated in a delicious, well deserved late lunch at CJ’s.
Then we parted ways, they headed to their Airbnb, and I was on my way to my friend’s place where my kids and I were staying. Simple, right? Wrong.
I took a moment to reflect on the meeting—you know, doing that internal post-meeting debrief we all love—when I reached for my phone to call an Uber. And guess what? My phone decided to take the night off.
I should have charged my phone while in the meeting but I had forgotten. The conversations were so inspiring and I was fully in the moment with my bosses. So my phone was just flat out dead.
“No worries,” I thought. “I’ll just get a regular taxi.”
But then it hit me—I had no cash (local currency), and in this country, phones were the magical key to payments. So I sprinted over to catch one of my bosses just as they were getting into their Uber and asked for taxi money in the local currency. Sorted!
I walked to one of those classic taxi congregation spots and found a cab. We negotiated the price—it was way higher than what Uber would have charged, but it was late, and I figured, “When in Rome… or wherever.” I hopped in, ready for a straightforward ride.
Then the driver, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, told me to sit in the passenger seat instead of the back seat. Weird, right? But okay. In the back seat was a woman. The driver explained she was his wife, and they were heading home after dropping me off. He pleaded with me, and I thought, “Hey, I’m a married woman. I get it. Family first.” So I agreed, thinking it was a harmless domestic arrangement.
We started the journey. The driver was overly chatty—like, ‘I just downed three mugs of highly caffeneitted coffee’ chatty—while I was exhausted. Eventually, I started dozing off. The ride felt longer than it should have, but I chalked it up to traffic.
In my half-asleep daze, I could hear the driver and his wife chatting—or at least, that’s what I initially assumed. But as the conversation dragged on, it didn’t sound much like a husband-and-wife kind of chat. No, this was more like a man attempting to ‘tune’ a woman for… let’s just say, a one-night rental arrangement. Even in my tired, zoning in and out state, I couldn’t help but feel a tad concerned. Was I stuck in a rom-com or the pilot episode of some low-budget soap opera? Either way, it kept me on high alert—half asleep but fully suspicious!
When I woke up, we were near my friend’s shopping center, but instead of turning where he should, the driver cruised right past the turn. Alarm bells started ringing in my head. I asked him to stop and call my friend for directions. He claimed he was confused. Fine. We stopped at a side-road shop and I bought him some airtime, and we called my friend. Directions given. Easy peasy… or so I thought.
We drove back a few minutes then turned off the main, well-lit road onto a dark, rough one. Then things got… spooky. He started taking wrong turns despite my protests. Round and round we went, deeper into darkness. That’s when I realized: Houston, we have a problem.
My heart rate? Oh, just a ‘casual’ 600 beats per minute. Panic mode fully activated. This is the moment you start thinking on your toes, so I quickly got a plan—a pretend phone call to my husband, Patrick Omukhango, who was, by the way, nowhere near this country.
“Sweetie, sorry I finished my meeting late. Since my other phone died I could not get an uber, so I’m in a taxi, the license plate is xxx. The driver’s name is xxx, and his wife is in the back seat. I’ll update you when I arrive.”
I saw a concerned look on the driver’s face and I hoped the call had deterred him of any plans of harm. Now someone else knew exactly where I was, or so they thought.
In that moment, my life started flashing before my eyes. I thought to myself, the woman at the back could easily jump on my neck at a moment’s notice and I would have no time to react. So I put my back on the window/door and was almost facing the driver so I could have a wider angle to see both of them.
I prayed like I’d never prayed before.
“Dear Lord, not today. Please. My husband needs me. My kids need me. I promise I’ll parent even harder. And God, you know about that Kingdom work through books, right? There’s so much left for me to do. Please, just get me home safe.”
But then we took another wrong turn, despite my very vocal (and totally justified) protests that we were officially lost. At this point, I realized that desperate times call for desperate measures, so I did what any sensible believer would do—I launched into governmental prayers. You know, the kind where you confidently wield God’s Word like a divine GPS and remind Him (and yourself) of His promises? Yup, it was time.
“No weapon formed against me shall prosper…” I declared dramatically in my heart, as if addressing an invisible audience. “And every tongue that rises against me in judgment, I shall condemn!”
I wasn’t done. Oh no.
“Lord, Your Word says that You are a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. Please, light this path! Or at least give me a decent street sign!”
“And Father, while You’re at it, please assign extra angels to watch over me. May those angels be equipped with divine compasses and possibly Google Maps.”
I threw in a few more promises for good measure.
“Though I walk through the valley of shadowy detours, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod, Your staff, and hopefully Your sense of direction will comfort me.”
Finally, I wrapped it up with an all-purpose prayer:
“Lord, protect me from wrong turns, wrong decisions, and wrong attitudes. Guide me in paths of righteousness and lead me home!”
Then, I had a lightbulb moment. I told the driver to stop and commanded we hire a motorbike rider to lead us to my friend’s place. I’d pay for it, no problem. I lowered my window and started to motion one. Thankfully, the driver agreed and called a rider. The motorbike guy, guided by my friend on the phone, got us home safely.
When I walked through the gate, it was midnight. My daughter was still awake, and she and my friend had been interceding for me for the past three hours—three hours for a trip that should’ve taken just one or less.
Subscribe to our Newsletter today and stay connected! Receive inspiring articles, exclusive book selections, and the latest updates in Africa's book industry delivered straight to your inbox. Join our growing community—your subscription means the world to us!
That night, I learned a few things:
One, always carry a power bank.
Two, never enter an Uber or taxi if there is another strange person inside or if another strange person gets in—just get out.
Three, prayer of the brethren is a powerful thing. It works.
And finally, God’s got us covered—even when riding shotgun in dangerous situations.
Of course, I shall not be taking a random taxi at night again in new countries—lesson learned! Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll ensure I start my journey home earlier next time, before the streetlights start whispering bedtime stories.
But above all, I’m genuinely grateful that no harm came my way. After all, while I may have been geographically lost, it’s comforting to know that I was spiritually covered. Safe, sound, and slightly wiser.
Book of the Day
As all my world revolves around books, I conclude with a wonderful one today—Gifts From Heaven: Remarkable True Stories of Miraculous Answers to Prayer from our partners Baker Books, USA.
God has answered countless prayers for brethren all over the world, and this 240-page collection brings those awe-inspiring testimonies to life. From unexplainable healings to miraculous protection in life-threatening situations, these true stories will encourage you to believe that God still answers prayers in remarkable ways, no matter how impossible they may seem.
Get your copy today for just Kes 1,590 and be inspired to trust God for your own miracles!
With Christian Literature Communications – CLC Kenya
African Christian Authors Book Award – ACABA

Has this blog and podcast impacted your life? Leave us a comment below!
6 responses to “The God Who Protects (Dr. Muthoni Omukhango with Baker Publishing, USA)”
We thank God for his protection
Creative storytelling and pole Sana about your experience
He is indeed the God who protects!
Amen and Amen Maureen.
A scary occurrence and I’ve also experienced something similar when travelling alone and after dark in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language. Thanking God with you for those prayers and for His deliverance. He is faithful!
Sorry to hear Liz. We thank the God who protects for keeping you safe.
Stop Keeping Up With the Jonases (Dr. Muthoni Omukhango with Nicholas Aruho, Uganda)
Did I ever tell you about Karimi’s neighbour’s quest for a lush green lawn? Sit for this one as I help you, as I was helped, to mind your business and live a queit life. I call this one: The Greener Grass on the Other Side is Lots of Work or maybe, Stop Keeping Up…
Train Up A Child (Dr. Muthoni Omukhango with Dr. Pamela Kariba Muriungi, Kenya)
Did I ever tell you about that time we went to Charity’s house, played with her kids, and ate lunch there when I was six? Oh, it’s a classic tale. I call it: Train Up A Child.
Only the Wearer of the Shoe Knows Where It Pinches Most (Dr. Muthoni Omukhango with Ivy Gikonyo, Kenya)
Did I tell you about the whirlwind of grief that hit me when my father-in-law, Readon (or Fathy, as I called him), passed away last year? Well, brace yourself—not for belly-aching laughter this time, but for some honest musings from my heart. I call it: Only the Wearer of the Shoe Knows Where It Pinches…
Subscribe for wholesome content!
Leave a Reply