Man's Journey From The Devil To God
Updated: 12:24am UK, Monday 11 November 2013
Daniel Correa Martins, 30, was once a drug addict and dealer who wanted his life to end. He now has a family and works as a missionary in Osasco, Sao Paulo. This is his story.
When I was 10 my father took me to hospital and there l had to do several exams and they found out I was visually impaired.
There was no cure for me and they declared me officially blind.
When my father told me the news, I rebelled. I thought how could you let me be born like this? What kind of God would do that?
All I could think of was that I wanted to die. It didn't matter how.
I started hanging out with the wrong crowd. I started to steal and first started stealing in shops.
I was an invalid - why should I live? The devil works through what you say, through your words.
Every time I robbed a shop I stayed a little longer hoping that someone would end my life.
I carried on stealing more and more, and by the time I turned 12 I was addicted to marijuana, coke and crack. By the time I turned 13 I was selling drugs and peddling.
From that moment onwards my life started to get worse and worse. I became more ruthless and evil.
It got to the stage that I could barely live with myself and what I was doing. I was an addict.
Sometimes I would go an hide in the woods for up to four days smoking crack.
I stole, sometimes over five robberies in one day, to feed my addiction. And on top of this I was a drug dealer too.
My mum every day would go to church and pray for me. But all I did was help my three brothers also become hooked on drugs.
My oldest brother got caught and was sentenced to 10 years in the Carandiru prison.
My life continued its downward spiral.
The police would pick me up and have to release me again as I was under age.
I sometimes spent two months without washing or even brushing my teeth.
I looked like an animal. I would walk out my front door and all my neighbours were scared of me, they would run in and lock their doors.
No one would talk to me. They all ran away in fear.
At night I would sell drugs and rob shops during the day. All I did was take more and more drugs, but nothing changed.
Then one day drugged to the eyeballs, I sat down and cried and looked up to the sky, and said: "God why am I still alive? What do you want from me in this life?"
I was tired of this life.
I would go into my mother's house and steal. I would go into my auntie's house and steal everything I could get my hands. I would steal and sell to buy drugs.
Then one day I woke up one morning in a drug haze and went and stood outside my front door.
A young girl who my mother knew came along my road and stopped in front of me she asked if she could speak with me.
I said yes, but be quick as I have to go soon!
She told me that she had been in her living room reading a book when she felt she needed to tell me a message.
The message was that my days in the hands of the devil were numbered.
She said she saw me travelling to all four corners of the world, and as she spoke I got more and more angry.
I just said to her "cut to the chase because I've got to go".
She then said: "I can see you being taken to the woods by the police and beating and beating you and then you will be taken to another place."
I urged her to finish and she said that I would walk through the valley of death very soon but first l would be imprisoned.
I said to her: "We'll see."
The next morning I went to rob a shop and was caught.
And there were several police cars there - I had been on a wanted list for quite a while. They were all very happy to have caught me.
They took me to the woods and beat me and kicked me, saying that I needed to confess to everything I had done.
They then asked me if I had any tattoos - and I did.
When they saw them - both symbols of the PCC (the First Capital Command drug cartel) - they beat me even more.
Then they took me into a detention cell and shifted me every day to a different police station to be held.
When I ended up at the detention centre in Osasco I realised how different life was.
Life outside was one thing, life inside was something very different. Outside we all say we're men, but inside we see who the real men are.
Inside I learnt everything my mother had tried to teach me and I hadn't wanted to know.
When I arrived like any other prisoner, I was given a role; there everyone has a role - to wash the cell, wash dishes, wash spoons.
I had to wash the plates and spoons - something I had never done in my life.
Then my life started changing. But when I first arrived there I thought I would become even worse than I already was.
This was in 2004 when I was 21 years old.
This was the first day of my real life.
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