A Muslim Woman's Vision of the Second Coming of Jesus: A 30-year burden finally told  

The following is a first-person account shared by a 69-year-old Muslim woman who says she received a dream or vision in the 1990s concerning the second coming of Jesus Christ.

For more than three decades, she says she struggled in silence — questioned by Christians, warned by fellow Muslims, misunderstood by friends, and even feared by members of her own community.

This series presents her testimony in her own words, carefully structured for clarity and context. We are not presenting this as theological doctrine, verified prophecy, or religious endorsement. Rather, it is the personal spiritual account of one woman who says she carried this message for over 30 years before deciding to speak publicly.

Readers are encouraged to engage thoughtfully and respectfully.

-The Muslim woman who couldn’t stop crying because she saw the second coming of Jesus — and no one listened

“Mr. Atu, I am a Muslim… and I have carried this for years.”

When she first said it, she paused.

Not because she didn’t know what to say.

But because she had said it too many times before — and no one believed her.

She is 69 years old now. A mother. A former beautician. A woman who has lived an ordinary life in Ghana. But in the 1990s, when she was in her thirties, something happened that she says changed her life forever.

It began with a dream.

Or, as she sometimes calls it, a vision.

“I don’t know which one to call it,” she says quietly.

In the dream, she was standing in a massive market — so large it felt like the entire world. People of every race, color, and background filled the place. It was crowded, loud, restless. Everyone was busy.

And then she realized something strange.

She was not standing fully on the ground.

She had been lifted slightly — just enough to see the tops of people’s heads.

Beneath her feet was empty space.

And then she felt it.

Someone was standing behind her. She could not turn. She could not move. A chin rested on her right shoulder. She became stiff — completely frozen.

Then the voice spoke.

“Tell them that Jesus Christ is coming.”

She repeated it.

The voice thundered again:

“Very soon.”

She shouted it back:

“Very soon!”

He said “Jesus Christ is coming” once.

But “very soon” — that was repeated over and over.

Louder. Urgent. Pressing.

Below her, the market did not stop.

No one looked up.

No one listened.

People were trading gold. Weighing diamonds on small iron scales. Gambling intensely. Rushing. Buying. Selling. Consumed.

The voice echoed across the whole market — yet no one paid attention.

Then suddenly, the presence lifted.

The chin left her shoulder.

She woke up breathless.

Exhausted.

And unable to sleep again.

The next morning, she opened her Quran.

And as she prayed, she cried.

Not quiet tears.

Heavy, uncontrollable weeping.

Her children noticed her red eyes.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“Headache,” she told them.

She couldn’t explain it.

She didn’t even understand it herself.

She is Muslim.

Why would she dream about the second coming of Jesus Christ?

She decided to tell someone; an elderly Christian woman who traded in front of her house.

The woman listened — and told her to go for “deliverance.”

She didn’t even understand what that meant.

That was the beginning.

The crying did not stop.

And the isolation was only just beginning.

To be continued…