In the past, I recall numerous significant events, thankfully all behind me now.
For a considerable stretch, I led dual lives, seamlessly adapting to the distinct airs of contrasting environments. As the saying goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.
In settings suffused with faith, I breathed the atmosphere of devotion sincerely, not feigning affection for God but praying earnestly and contributing generously to His causes — in essence, even teaching Sunday School, a testament to my commitment.
Conversely, on the other side of that divide, I indulged in what many would deem as misguided paths. I traversed through various vices, grappling with guilt only the first time I crossed each moral boundary. Reassuring myself that as long as God continued to answer my prayers, our relationship remained intact, this conviction provided me with sleep through the night.
I thrived on living fully without labels, engaging with everyone on the basis of shared humanity. The only barriers were my principles—my strong character could be intimidating or uncomfortable to those who couldn’t align. Aside from safeguarding my principles, I remained open-hearted to all.
Traveling out of Nigeria, I wanted the airplane to land as fast as possible—I was going to explore other cultures, food and women. Using a dating app, I had prepared a white skin for myself to begin with.
As years passed and wisdom accumulated, a moment of introspection prompted me to pen a reflective quote: “Life has a way of bestowing responsibilities upon us; these shape us, and rejecting them now will lead to regret later.” Throughout this journey, no one preached to me. In fact, my demanding job left little room for church attendance.
Evolving over time, I gradually shed many vices, culminating in a decision and I said to myself, it is time to let all the women go. It was the last hurdle! There was one exception—an Ethiopian lady. I resolved that she would be my last dalliance; she exuded a captivating aura of freedom that drew me in irresistibly.
Perplexed one afternoon while wandering through a mall, I sought solitude in the restroom. There, amidst the mundane surroundings, I found myself transfixed by a peculiar mirror on the wall. Lost in contemplation, I heard an almost imperceptible voice ask, “When will you be ready, soldier?” Without consciously moving my lips, I found myself responding, “I still have one Ethiopian to explore.” But the voice persisted, commanding me to “give it up.”
That very week, she invited me to her home, dismissing her maid upon my arrival. Yet, as I stepped into her abode, an intense heat engulfed me, overpowering even the air conditioning’s feeble attempt to cool the atmosphere. Though she seemed innocent and unpossessed, a divine force unmistakably intervened, compelling me to recognize that this encounter was a pivotal moment. Sensing a spiritual veil lifting from my eyes, I abruptly stood and left.
From that moment onward, I vowed to abstain from entanglements with women. However, I still had one Indian woman who exhibited supernatural abilities. She made me realized that she wielded witchcraft among her powers, a warning for me not to sever ties. Not minding, I sever ties and the repercussions of my decision proved severe; she exacted a punishing toll upon me, leaving an indelible mark of suffering.
Fast-forward to the year 2015, a period fraught with spiritual turmoil marked by spiritual death threats and tormenting dreams. Every attempt to sleep became a battle for survival, each dream a relentless torture. Struggling with insomnia, I endured prolonged suffering that same year.
Then came a pivotal night. In a dream, I found myself in a boxing ring, battered and on the verge of being beaten to death while the referee looked on, indifferent to my plight. Just as hope seemed lost, a figure extended a hand towards me, offering salvation if I would only accept his assistance to step out of the ring.
In the haze of the moment, I questioned whose hand it was, but the crowd’s thunderous acclaim provided the answer—they were chanting “Jesus! Jesus!” Regrettably, I awoke before I could grasp his hand. That morning, I struggled to walk, burdened by a severe dislocation in my right knee—a manifestation from the dream that left me in excruciating pain. Concerned, my manager Mr. Abduwaleed urged me to see an orthopedic specialist.
On June 19th, 2015, I sought solace in a recorded sermon on YouTube, and that day, I formally surrendered my life to Jesus Christ. Despite my past involvement in church activities, I realized I had not yet truly been born again. This moment marked the beginning of a profound spiritual journey, transcending mere attendance to embracing a genuine faith.
Giving my life to Jesus initially intensified the spiritual battles I faced, until July when a protective spirit began to repel the forces of darkness targeting me. In 2015, my spiritual vision was activated in naked eyes, allowing me to see both human beings and spirits. One day at a mall, I encountered a startling sight: two strangers, really young girls from different parents, each with a visible eye on their foreheads. They noticed my ability to see them, shared a laugh, and remarked that this one can now see. Disturbed by this new ability, I sought guidance from a prophetess prayed along with me and said God’s leading for me was to pray with sand and rub it on my face. Miraculously, after following her instructions, the visions ceased, and I could only see what God intended for me to see.
Despite the advanced and extensive medical treatments, trusted abroad, my health was deteriorating and, by December 2015, I returned to Nigeria. Through the grace of God and the prayers of my mother and her fellow ministers of GOD, I was healed using anointed water as I began to respond to medical treatment. In 2016, despite having a secure job abroad with a strong performance record, the Lord directed me not to return. Instead, I was called to assist the ministers at Christ Solution Church of God, a name I initially found unappealing, associating it with potentially deceptive practices aimed at exploiting people’s troubles. I hesitated, feeling burdened by the emotional weight of others’ problems.
After being obedient to the Lord’s direction, not knowing the Lord had told three ministers associated with Christ Solution Church of God to admit me and allow me to start ministering, asking them to grant me at least five minutes to speak to the church. But, they gave me 15 minutes slot for ministration during the mid-week programs, later increasing it to 30 minutes. These were challenging times; financially, I had nothing and was struggling to make ends meet. It was a period I’d rather not talk about.
Seven years into my service at the church, I began to envision myself starting a new church, but the Lord intervened clearly, revealing that my future lay with Christ Solution Church of God. In 2023, I was formally recognized and ordained within the church, according to the leading of the Lord. It was a significant milestone, marking the beginning of receiving a salary from the church, funded through the tithes and offerings of the congregation. According to the church’s constitution, every ordained minister is entitled to a salary, and cannot reject it, no matter how modest.
You might wonder just how modest that salary was? The highest as of today was 25,000 Naira. There was a month when I received just 15,000 naira and the lowest was 10,500 naira even when President Tinubu had brought inflation on the country in his first year in office. Despite this, every week, I spend 30,000 naira on fuel alone, particularly in President Tinubu era, to commute to and from church for all the services. I appreciate the token from the church and understand that if there was more, I would be humanly compensated with more. There is a cap to what any minister can receive in comparison to their counterparts in the civil service (at least in my church denomination), but the church would definitely not seek loan to compensate pastors at month-end, therefore, their compensation can be as low as any amount, based on all donations in the month less all church expenditures during the month and a reserve for church projects decided by the ministers themselves from the beginning of the year. Just giving you a snap financial information about our church to counter many false opinions that all pastors do it for money.
Take note, it is not because of me but because of many pastors who are financially struggling, kindly appreciate their service to God and humanity if you find evidence of God in them, and if you believe in God that He sees all hearts. Genuine servants of God will not even discuss money or their needs with you, meanwhile, false pastors continue to exploit people using methods that genuine pastors like cannot employ. My quick reversal also is that you should beware of pretenders, lazy people and manipulators parading as servants of God to make their living off the undiscerning. But God has remained faithful to me. He let me have a business that actually fends for my family when I sought the Lord’s permission to let me have a business and not be at the mercy of people.
Now, I find myself embarking on a new assignment directed towards the Yoruba people. The specifics of this mission must remain undisclosed for now, as its novelty renders it vulnerable to adversaries. What complicates this assignment is its potential to be misconstrued as tribalistic, ethnic, or even racist—a stark contrast to my personal beliefs and choices.
At heart, I uphold a liberal and empathetic worldview, albeit not the distorted liberalism prevalent today. I value dialogue and seek enduring solutions. My vision for ministry has always been expansive, aiming to reach and impact people worldwide for Jesus. Yet, this new focus on the Yoruba people feels like a narrowing of that vision, a deviation I did not anticipate nor choose on my own accord.
I foresee that some may misinterpret my assignment and accuse me of tribalism or racism without understanding that I am simply following the direction of Jesus, whom I serve faithfully. Just as Apostle Paul was designated to the Gentiles yet he so wanted to minister to the Jews, I draw lessons from his example in Acts of the Apostles. I’ve learned that no servant of God is universally tasked with reaching the entire world; that role belongs solely to Jesus. We all have our niche, whether permanent role/scope or a changing one.
This realization shapes my perspective on this new journey, reminding me to trust in the divine guidance behind every assignment, even when it challenges my preconceptions and preferences.
As Jesus taught in John 13:16, “A servant is not greater than his master.” Growing up in Yola, far from Yorubaland’s shores, I was surrounded by the diverse tongues and vibrant street foods of Nigeria. While I never lived in the barracks, visits to the Nigerian Customs barracks in Yola, the more, showcased a harmonious blend of cultures, devoid of labels. This upbringing naturally shaped me into a liberal and inclusive individual, uncomfortable with divisive rhetoric.
So, imagine my discomfort being tasked to style my ministry at this turn as if it is specifically for the Yoruba people in my current assignment. It feels contrary to my upbringing and personal convictions to emphasize one ethnic group over others. Delving into the underlying issues affecting the Yoruba people may inadvertently touch on racial topics and critique the exploitation they face, particularly by Western nations. At times, I shift gear to Nigeria as a whole, even Africa, highlighting the challenges faced by the black race under their unelected colonial leaders who plunder their economies while branding them as impoverished Africans.
However, divine perspective, as outlined in Revelation 7:9, sees diversity among nations, tribes, and languages as a testament to God’s creativity and beauty. Sadly, humans often distort these identities into tools of social and political extremism, turning them into sensitive issues fraught with tension. It’s crucial to clarify that recognizing national or racial identities doesn’t imply racism in God’s eyes.
I urge everyone not to succumb to narrow-mindedness. My mission isn’t about tribalism or racism; it’s about faithfully serving where my Master directs me. Just as I am called to minister to the Yoruba people now, I remain united with fellow ministers worldwide under our eternal Master and King, Jesus, the only begotten Son of God.
In conclusion, my journey of faith has been a testament to the unpredictable paths God can lead us down. From tumultuous beginnings filled with personal struggles and spiritual revelations, to unexpected assignments that challenged my own beliefs and comfort zones, I have learned to trust in God’s wisdom and guidance above all else.
While my service at Christ Solution Church of God has been humbling, marked by a few hardships and the complexities, I have seen firsthand the transformative power of faith and obedience. Despite the misunderstandings and challenges along the way, I remain steadfast in my commitment to follow where God leads, whether it’s to a local congregation or beyond the walls of the conventional church, always with the goal of sharing GOD’s love and truth through Christ.
As I continue on this journey, I am reminded of Apostle Paul’s words in Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” This verse encapsulates my resolve to persevere, to embrace every assignment with humility and courage, knowing that God’s plan is far greater than my own desires or limitations.
May my story inspire others to trust in God’s purpose for their lives, to embrace diversity with grace, and to serve faithfully wherever they are called. For in the end, it is not about the titles we hold or the recognition we receive, but about glorifying God and fulfilling His will with unwavering faith.
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