If you are close to me, you would have noticed that I’ve been sharing gospel-related content recently. Those who have known me for over twenty years might be thinking, “Oh, thank God, this guy is back in Christ.” Some who only recently got to know me might feel, “This guy and repentance again… very soon, he’ll return to his rugged lifestyle.”

Others, assuming this is my first time, might say, “Oh, finally, he has given his life to Jesus.”

Well, if you truly want to understand what’s going on, I encourage you to read this to the end.

Let me start by clearing the air: I am not just giving my life to Jesus. I did that almost twenty years ago. The full story of how I got born again is for another day, but my journey is similar to that of the prodigal son in the Bible.

I was born into a Muslim family. My late father did everything he could to ensure we remained in that faith, but somehow, life unfolded differently.

Interestingly, at a very young age—before I could even understand the differences between religions—whenever I was asked about my religion, I would naturally say “Christian,” without anyone influencing me.

During my teenage years in secondary school, I remember responding to altar calls for repentance on at least two occasions. However, those moments didn’t last—they faded away almost as quickly as they came.

There was even a time when I doubted the existence of God. I became so argumentative that whenever someone tried to preach to me, I would challenge them with questions and “proofs” that left many confused. Some would even walk away just to avoid arguments—and honestly, that was wisdom on their part.

You’ll understand this phase better when I eventually share how I truly got born again. So as not to miss it, I encourage you to subscribe to my newsletter by leaving your email address at the bottom of this page.

Fast forward to when I genuinely gave my life to Christ—it happened in a well-recognized mission: Christ Apostolic Church Ile-Ayo, Omiyale Street, Ejigbo, Lagos, Nigeria—a structured, organized, and highly respected church.

The church was led by a powerful man of God, Pastor A. O. Moradeyo, whose prophetic gift drew many people to the ministry.

If I’m ever asked who fathered or groomed me spiritually, I proudly refer to him.

Church life was intense and full. Almost every day of the week had activities—some days even had both morning and evening programs. Revivals and vigils were powerful, and both members and non-members hardly wanted to miss them.

I became deeply committed. I rarely missed any activity—morning, evening, weekday, or weekend. Even if it meant sneaking out of work or resuming late, I just wanted to be in God’s presence.

At some point, an elder in the church, Elder Fakorede, who lived near my father’s house, told me he had always assumed I was homeless because I was constantly in church. He rarely saw me at home whenever he visited my dad. My routine was simple: house → work → church → home… and sometimes, church → work again.

This season changed my life completely—my lifestyle and even my circle of friends.

Before then, I had no clear vision or direction. Though I was raised by decent parents and had a gentle nature, I later got involved with friends whose activities revolved around partying and even fighting.

But after encountering Jesus, everything changed. For the first time, I felt I had a reason to live.

I found a new circle of friends, and our lives revolved around fellowship—praying, fasting, studying the Bible, and sharing the gospel.

Because of my love for music, I quickly picked up instruments—the drums, guitar, and especially the piano.

Two people played a major role in shaping my musical journey: Mr. Ayantunde Popoola (popularly known as Woli), who was exceptional in contemporary piano, and Mr. Moradeyo Emmanuel (also known as Othniel), who specialized in classical styles.

They were part of the choir leadership and were deeply involved in training and organizing music. Mr. Popoola, in particular, mentored me closely, and I will never forget the impact they both had on my life.

Their influence followed me everywhere and opened many doors. With the skills I gained, I went on to coordinate and minister with several church choirs—many of them well-established.

I became quite popular across my church assembly, district, zone, and even at the national level.

One thing that stood out was my energetic dancing during praise and worship. If I wasn’t ministering, I was dancing—fearlessly and wholeheartedly. That earned me another nickname alongside “Bros B”—people started calling me “Catch Fire.”

That was my life for nearly ten years.

Then everything changed.

I had a serious accident that almost led to the amputation of my leg. Thankfully, the surgery was successful, and I received immense support from my family, church, colleagues, and friends.

After about two months away, I returned to church—still walking with crutches—because I deeply missed being there.

But things were no longer the same.

There had been a change in leadership. The former pastor and his family had been transferred, and a new pastor, Pastor J. O. Akinyomi, had taken over.

He was a seasoned Bible teacher. His teachings were powerful, deep, and transformative. In the few times I attended his Bible study sessions, my understanding of Scripture changed significantly.

However, during the period of church reforms, things took a different turn for me.

There were plans to appoint departmental heads, and based on my reputation, I had been recommended for leadership roles. But I had never been interested in positions—I preferred to support from behind.

During preparations for a youth anniversary, I opposed a proposed social activity introduced by the pastor’s sons. My intention was to preserve what we had been taught previously.

To my surprise, most of the youth supported the idea. This led to division, tension, and eventually, politics within the group—especially in the choir.

One evening during rehearsal, despite being warned that some people might provoke me intentionally, I lost control. A younger member, Adeleke, spoke to me disrespectfully, and I reacted in anger—so much so that I almost became physically violent.

The pastor was called in, but I couldn’t calm down. That moment was a major turning point.

Although both of us were issued queries, I was deeply hurt—not just by the situation, but by what I perceived as betrayal from people I had served alongside for years.

I left the church.

The pain was so deep that I convinced myself never to attend any church again. I concluded that all churches were filled with politics.

That decision marked the beginning of my downfall.

Gradually, I returned to old habits—and even worse ones. I began to live carelessly, doing things I once stood against.

At some point, I told myself the truth: you cannot serve God and sin at the same time. So instead of pretending, I walked away completely.

I embraced a life I had left behind for nearly ten years—this time, even deeper.

My perception of churchgoers changed. I saw them as pretenders.

Yet, my conscience never left me alone.

I tried to repent at different times, but it never lasted. I kept falling back.

Then I realized something profound: I had tied my salvation to a church, not to Christ.

I was growing in church, but not in Christ.

I had no personal prayer life and no consistent study of God’s Word—the very things that sustain a believer. That made it easy for me to fall.

Those years were difficult.

Everything I touched seemed to fail. I wasted resources, made poor decisions, and disappointed many people—both believers and unbelievers who once looked up to me.

Eventually, I started attending churches again, even joining choirs. But something was still missing.

Then came the turning point.

During a choir interview, I was asked a question that shook me deeply:

“Since you gave your life to Christ, what old habits have you truly left behind?”

I was speechless.

After nearly twenty years of claiming to be born again, I couldn’t give a clear answer.

That question broke me.

For the first time in years, I became intentional about my relationship with God.

I developed a consistent prayer life and committed to studying the Bible personally.

And everything began to change.

What once seemed difficult to let go of became repulsive to me. My understanding became clearer. My walk became real.

Now, I can boldly say—I am truly born again.

My life in summary:
• Working for God, but not walking with God
• Growing in church, but not growing in Christ
• Relying on people, but neglecting God

It ended badly—but God’s grace found me again.

My advice to you:

Be active in church, yes. Serve, grow, and be committed. But above all, ensure that your relationship with God is real and personal.

Your salvation must not depend on a church system or people.

It must be rooted in Christ.

And that relationship is sustained through:
• A consistent personal prayer life
• A steady study of God’s Word

That is what truly keeps a believer.

Before you go, let me ask you honestly:

Is your walk with God truly personal… or is it only sustained by your church environment?

If everything around you changes today—your church, your pastor, your circle—will your faith still stand?

I would really love to hear from you.

Drop your thoughts in the comments, share this with someone who needs it, and don’t forget to subscribe so you don’t miss the full story of how I truly encountered Christ.

Your story might just begin where mine restarted.

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