My mother passed on when I was an infant, and my father also passed away when I was still at a tender age. Relatives took care of me, but things were rugged as I was growing up. I was more depressed than happy as a child. My world at the time was devoid of parental care, affection, or direction.
My parents' deaths were believed to be outcomes of the acts of witches and wizards. The prayer house we attended confirmed this to be possible by portraying men as descendants of Cain who seek out many ways to destroy their brothers and sisters by hatred, envy, jealousy, and so on. According to this theory, God is high up somewhere, seeing and allowing these things to take place so that He may avenge the blood of the innocent on the wicked.
This idea was never plausible to me. I felt, if God had not made a mistake in His creation, He couldn't cause me and many others to experience this fate. I used to kneel down and pray, but in those instances I felt more condemned than ever to suffer the sins of Adam and Eve, as my prayers seemed to be unanswered. I was never satisfied but was always spiritually hungry.