I wasn’t always a Christian. In fact, until July 7, 1998, I was a devout Muslim—a committed member of the Jihad Committee of the Muslim Students Society at Obafemi Awolowo University from 1983 to 1988. My roots ran deep in both Yoruba traditional religion and Islamic teachings.
But that day—July 7, 1998—everything changed.
A Role Model’s Death and a Crisis of Faith
I was living in Arlington, Texas, when I heard the devastating news: Alhaji Chief M.K.O. Abiola, a man I greatly admired, had died under tragic and controversial circumstances. He was my role model—a beacon of leadership and courage.
But his end shattered something inside me.
“How could someone so loved, so respected, be abandoned in his final hour—especially by those within his own faith?”
I began to question everything. The silence and inaction of fellow Muslims around Abiola’s death left me disillusioned. I felt the love of power and money had overtaken faith and solidarity. In that moment of spiritual disillusionment, I made a vow:
“I will not pray as a Muslim again—unless I can find clarity about this man’s fate and the silence of his brothers.”
A Divine Encounter: From Disillusionment to Discovery
That vow began a journey that would lead me away from Islam—not out of hatred or rebellion—but out of an earnest search for truth, love, and meaning.
On December 2, 1998, after returning to Nigeria for a short visit, I encountered Jesus Christ in a personal and undeniable way. I decided to give Him six months—just half a year—to prove if He truly possessed the love, power, and compassion I had heard about.
It has now been 27 years.
And I’m still walking with Him, stronger and more fulfilled than I ever imagined.
From Seeker to Servant: Embracing a New Mission
Through the encouragement of my wife (then my fiancée), I joined The Redeemed Christian Church of God in February 1999. There, my hunger for God grew like wildfire. I immersed myself in the Word, served faithfully, and was soon appointed Head of the Men’s Fellowship, then Head of the Prayer Department.
I became convinced of my divine calling.
“For this purpose, the Son of God was manifested: to destroy the works of the devil.” – 1 John 3:8
I believed I, too, was called to confront and destroy those same works—especially the most cruel of them all: poverty and homelessness.
America’s Hidden Crisis: The Poor Among the Rich
Having lived in America for several years, I was shocked to see extreme poverty and homelessness—not in developing countries, but in the so-called “richest nation on Earth.”
I saw men and women sleeping under bridges. I witnessed people prostituting themselves for survival. The scenes reminded me of Agege and Oshodi in Lagos.
“How could this be happening here? How could the wealthiest land be home to the most forgotten people?”
I realized God wasn’t just calling me to preach in churches—He was calling me to the streets.
A Birthday to Remember: Ministry to the Homeless Begins
On December 25, 2003—my 41st birthday—I stepped out in obedience. My wife, our baby daughter, Pastor Obed Dimkpa and his family, and a few others joined me on a mission: to celebrate with the homeless.
We held a church service at a street corner—Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd and Malcolm X Blvd in Dallas, Texas.
That day, 18 people gave their lives to Jesus. My spirit leapt. My wife embraced the vision. We started buying fried chicken and handing out meals while sharing the Gospel.
A Door Opens: Tuesday Outreach Becomes Church
In February 2004, God opened a miraculous door. The MLK Jr. Recreation Center offered us a space every Tuesday evening. Just four weeks later, a Nigerian-owned chicken franchise began supplying all our food for free—and has done so faithfully for over 21 years.
After just three months of outreach, my wife said:
“This isn’t just outreach—it’s a calling. If you want to plant a church for the homeless, I’m with you.”
We searched for a location but found none—until a visiting minister, Mrs. Cynthia Chase, made a radical suggestion:
“Why not try a funeral home? They’re usually empty on Sundays.”
It sounded crazy. But it worked.
On May 30, 2004, we held our first Sunday service at Eternal Rest Funeral Home in Dallas.
By August 1, 2004, we moved into a rented space at 1705 Martin Luther King Jr Blvd, which eventually became our permanent church building in 2014.
From the Streets to Transformation
Today, the area once considered one of Dallas’s roughest neighborhoods is changing. Some call it gentrification—but we know it’s something more:
“We’ve seen addicts healed, prostitutes restored, and the homeless empowered by the Gospel of Jesus Christ.”
This isn’t just my story—it’s God’s story through me.
A New Book: A Call to Action
I’ve captured this 21-year journey in my new book:
Moses, David, Jesus: Pastors to the Poor, Homeless, and the Needy
Like Moses, God sent me to bring deliverance.
Like David, I was called to serve those in distress, debt, and discontent.
And like Jesus, I’ve been anointed to bring good news to the world.
