_{^{The Rev. Warah Solomon prays over a man at the Ramah Christian Center in Bamenda, northwest Cameroon. Andres Caballero/NPR The Rev.}}

_{I was walking into my apartment when I noticed a stranger sitting comfortably in my living room. He stood up immediately, sensing my fear, and reassured me that he was a friend of my sister, visiting my mother. I vaguely remembered that my sister had mentioned someone coming over, though I wasn’t sure of the details. Since I had just seen my mother walking to a nearby shop, I figured his story might be true. A few minutes later, the man called me over to introduce himself. He said he was a pastor who had connected with my sister through social media. According to him, the spirit had led him to feel her suffering and brought them into contact. He told her that if she followed a series of rituals and prayers, the person behind her pain would reveal themselves. She did, and a few days later, our father emerged as her “monster.”}

_{I listened with a calm that even I found surprising. Part of me couldn’t believe he thought anyone would buy such a story. The other part was just curious to see how far this would go. He went onto explain that, through witchcraft, my father had cursed the destinies of all his children and our mother, selling our souls for his own prosperity. Only purification, he claimed, could set us free.}

My sister had thrown herself into prayer and preaching over the past few months, more intensely than anything our upbringing had instilled in us. At first, we thought it was giving her relief, but soon, we began to worry. So did my father.

Just then, my mother walked in, carrying items for a purification bath. She hadn’t expected me, so she looked surprised to see me home. I stared at her in disbelief. Then, in anger, I ordered the pastor to leave. I watched as my mother ran after him, begging for forgiveness, while he played the role of the outraged victim.

What happened that day may seem like ordinary family drama, but it reveals a deeper reality. In Cameroon, socio-economic hardship and cultural vulnerability have created fertile ground for the rapid rise of religious movements, especially Pentecostal and evangelical churches. While these institutions present themselves as sources of hope, their influence becomes concerning when spiritual guidance turns into manipulation and abuse. Too often, they fuel paranoia and blame, weakening the relationships that hold families and communities together. For these reasons, it’s crucial to speak out against the harm they cause. But before addressing their impact, we must first understand how Cameroon reached this point.

THE RISE OF PENTECOSTALISM IN CAMEROON

The Cameroonian Constitution, particularly since its 1996 revision, guarantees freedom of religion and worship. These protections have led to the proliferation of various religious groups, with Pentecostal churches emerging as some of the most dynamic and rapidly growing movements in the country (Akoko, 2002).

Since the early 2000s, Pentecostal churches in Cameroon have grown significantly in both numbers and societal influence. Their membership increased from around 97,000 in 1970 to over 2.6 million by 2015 (Dupont, 2018), and the growth continues. This rapid expansion is driven by several factors. The prolonged economic crisis since the mid-1980s left many seeking hope and meaning through religion. As formal structures failed to meet people’s needs, Pentecostal churches became attractive, offering the promise of prosperity through the “prosperity gospel” (Batibonak, 2022). Their message provided a powerful emotional appeal, especially to those feeling powerless.

CULTURAL RECEPTIVENESS TO SPIRITUAL EXPLANATIONS AND SPIRITUAL WARFARE

Although Western Evangelicals sometimes acknowledge the existence of demonic spirits, they largely live as if they don’t exist. In contrast, African neo-Pentecostals take spiritual powers seriously. A deeply rooted spiritual worldview across the continent leads many Africans to attribute misfortunes to evil spirits (Asamoa, 1955; Asamoah-Gyadu, 2004, 2007; Adewuya,2012; Arnett, 2017). Building on this belief, Cameroonian Pentecostalism places spiritual warfare at the core of its teachings. Hardships are seen as spiritual battles requiring divine intervention rather than structural issues (Batibonak et al., 2016). Pastors often demonize illness, failure, and misfortune, blaming them on witchcraft or satanic forces. They justify these views with biblical passages like Exodus 22:18 (« You shall not let a sorceress live ») and Ephesians 6 (« the armor of God »). Spiritual warfare is central to Pentecostal spectacle and therapeutic rituals. Deliverance ceremonies and “spiritual combat” aim to free individuals from familial curses or ancestral rituals (De Koning, 2020). Events such as “Operation Kill Your Enemies” in Cameroon and Ghana reinforce the idea of God as a savior. This focus on spiritual warfare creates a climate of suspicion, where co-workers, friends, and neighbors are viewed as potential enemies.

Prosperity gospel churches in addition exploit the financial insecurity of many Cameroonians by promising divine wealth. Preachers showcase their own material success—luxury homes, expensive cars, and designer clothes—as proof of the rewards that come through faith (Marshall, 2009). These lifestyles become aspirational, leading followers to emulate them by aligning with their church leaders.

What followers fail to realize, however, is that these lifestyles are funded by their own tithes and offerings. Driven by the hope of similar success, followers overlook the fact that their contributions sustain the wealth of their pastors. They are taught that poverty stems from a lack of giving or weak faith, and that financial success requires tithes and offerings.

Pastors justify these practices by citing biblical verses that portray giving as a path to divine reward. Statements like “Only when we sow our seeds in faith can we expect rewards from God…” reinforce the belief that material blessings come through financial sacrifice. This creates a transactional faith model where believers give in the hope of receiving divine rewards, ultimately exploiting the desperation of vulnerable followers (Batibonak, 2015).

SOCIAL TRUST AND FAMILY DIVISION

“There is always a witch in your family” Geschiere, P. (1997).

Geschiere, P. (1997) discusses how witchcraft accusations in Cameroon, combined with Pentecostal teachings, have broken trust within families and communities. Misfortunes are often blamed on invisible forces within the family, turning what should be a place of safety into a breeding ground for suspicion and fear.

Pastors fuel this mindset by convincing believers that their closest relatives are spiritual threats. They encourage people to cut ties with those accused of witchcraft, a process known as “déparentalisation”, which they justify by quoting verses like Matthew 10:36.

Real-life stories show how devastating this can be:

• Danielle, who stopped talking to her family for five years after being told her aunt had bewitched her. (Rio et al., 2017),

• Marie, who left her aunt’s home after receiving pastoral advice and later found herself homeless and disconnected. (Rio et al., 2017).

The suspicion and demonization of tradition tear families apart. Once believers distance themselves from their biological families, the church steps in as a replacement, offering emotional and spiritual support. But this deepens loyalty to the church and further isolates them from their real families. Which is a typical mechanism for abuse.

Sadly, this process strengthens the grip that pastors have over their followers, allowing them to control not just their faith but also their relationships and finances. Yet, when things fall apart, it’s family and community that offer the strongest safety net. In times of crisis, family and community serve as vital sources of resilience. Preserving these relationships is essential for social stability and collective well-being.

But how do we confront a system that exploits belief ? How do we protect freedom of religion while protecting people from its abuse?

Perhaps the first step is simply to tell the stories and raise awareness.

_{As for me, I never heard again from the man I asked to leave my home that day, but he caused a fracture in our family that never healed. While the family avoids the topic, my father carries a quiet sadness that I can’t describe, struggling to understand such an accusation from his own children. Unfortunately, when faith becomes fear, the cost is not just spiritual. It is emotional,relational, and societal.}

By Rachel-Diane Epoupa