#HalleluyahChallenge #Olowogbogboro: What really happened?

Screen Shot 2017-07-10 at 8.53.56 PMA major mistake we might make is to assume that the many miracles and salvations witnessed with the #HalleluyahChallenge are the purpose and end-all to this spiritual movement. It’s almost like assuming that entering Canaan was the ultimate purpose of God for delivering His people from Egypt.

This will be a severe limitation of the Source of all Power. Thinking this way is not usually overt. That thought lies or is implied in the way we behave going forward after such a refreshing to the hearts of many. We move on to others things as though we merely visited the market, came home, put everything in the pantry and that’s it.

This will be a severe limitation of the Source of all Power. Thinking this way is not usually overt. That thought lies or is implied in the way we behave going forward after such a refreshing to the hearts of many. We move on to others things as though we merely visited the market, came home, put everything in the pantry and that’s it.

Spiritual moves are never like that. They are not momentary neither are they transient. Most times, we are limited in our understanding of the full scope of the Father’s intention when he initiates such moves. Let’s not forget that all prayers, revivals, refreshing, or any form of spiritual movements is first initiated in Heaven; born out of the Father Heart and Goodness. It is then committed, in partnership, to the hearts of “faithful men who will be able to teach others” (invite or reach others as the case may need).

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I like to learn from the stories between the crags. It’s my kind of thing; the story behind the story. For every story told, particularly ones crafted for public consumption, there remains the untold part, and these, for me, usually forms the main ingredient for the successes or failures that are portrayed to us. This is why I like Malcolm Gladwell’s writings. He’s an explorer willing to unravel the finer details that seem too trivial for story tellers to bother about. What is obvious is usually a perfect mix of unspoken words and inactions combined with the revealed to produce the stories that we rejoice or disregard.

Once I hear of or read a story, I immediately begin to find other parts of that story not reported. This is in particular to stories of mess ups, downfalls, disgrace, and the likes. People usually do not willingly plot a path to failure or severe dishonour. Such circumstances arise from a series of bad decisions and choices for which alternatives were ignored and advice was hissed at. For this reason I seek to always find out what was ignored on the path to dishonour.

I remember when I experienced an epic fail in a relationship as a young man in my 20s. I was cultured, disciplined, spiritual, and kind of a role model for younger folks in my family. I never believed that such stupidity could befall a person of my standing. I felt invincible as it had to do with relating with the opposite sex. I was warned by two separate persons, who called me aside and asked probing questions. I flushed my answers down their throats, bouncing the questions off me as if to tell them “can’t your eyes see how pure this is?” Well…I got bitten and it was quite terrible. It was a fall from grace. Grace grassed me like some will say. Or was it my foolishness that did? In this light, I like to learn from broken people; folks who have crashed small or big time. I call it feeding from the thrash.
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Live in Lagos – Can I help?

Help by force!

I arrived Lagos like an Israelite carrying the half-baked dough into a determined exodus. I had absolutely no idea what to expect, particularly how I will react to the weather, coming from extreme conditions like we saw this year in the Northeast US. Nothing really changed about the humid conditions, even at 8pm the wind was warm and slightly noxious. But hey! I am used to this, just have to acclimatize a bit. Err…I will dare not talk about Murtala Mohammed Airport, else it will be the rantings of a raving lunatic. Lekki Airport to the rescue!!!!!!!!!!

The road from the airport still is the famished road. It is fast becoming a bush path and reminds me of the road from Onitsha to Owerri in the late 1980s into early 1990s, It may soon need the kind of old Mercedes-Benz 9-11 trucks to ply it. It still amazes me that the government expects people to encounter that road first on a visit to the country through Lagos. Again it may be one of those roads that fall into the grey divide of Federal and State roads and no one is responsible for it. Very soon I will get dangerously upset to code red levels and will fix it. If the government refuses, private business making a fortune refuses, very rich men whole have stolen us blind also refuse to act socially responsible (at least to save face and the impending anger of the State), mere men like me will one day carry a digger and shovel to repair the road. At least beyond our children traveling safely, the police checkpoints will run smoothly and not be afraid to stop more vehicles and harass tired travelers. I have an idea, I will first start by asking my neighbour from Borno, who owns an active barn in his backyard (suitable to shoot a medieval movie), to lend me his cattle so they can graze the weeds shooting from the islands on the entire stretch of the airport road.
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Freaks Killing Freaks

When the rich oppress or kill the poor it is understandable because there are  probably huge differences in interest. When the rich kill the rich we may say that there was a clash of interest so one had to bow to the other. But when the poor kill the poor, how do we understand that? Are there hidden violent tendecies provoked by hunger or does poverty reduce men to brutal forces of darkness. If they killed and ate the bodies, I may say that they needed food. But when it comes to the point that poor people, with no education and forseeable progress drop their food bowls and pick up arms to destroy one another all in the name of religion, then I have to consider insanity.
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Have you ever sat in an argument with someone who tries to defend the practices of his church? To such people, you find that there really is nothing you can say to help them see the light, except such is open to the truth for what it is. Sometime ago, I engaged a close family member in a discussion on some of the practices of her church. I did this not with the mind of spiting what was going on, but because I knew that such was a form of hindrance to true worship. I asked what was the basis for such practice, and how scriptural is praying to saints to intercede or intervene on our behalf. She went on a journey of explaining the long held traditions of the church and how this is an ancient practice. I asked again, if the man whom we all serve, Jesus, gave us such an example to follow. I know there is only one mediator between man and God, Christ Jesus. All I could see was this dear family member had really been ‘churched’. This also gave me occasion to look back at my life and realize that I too had been seriously churched and cannot exonerate myself from the stronghold of church captivity.


Way back in the late 80s and early 90s, I was heavily involved with an older church and for what I knew then, I enjoyed every moment of it. I wasn’t particularly interested in what the Minister had to say, because a lot of stuff was spoken above my small head and I sometimes was hard of hearing, especially when sitting with other young men. I was more enraptured by my puberty and the feelings of intermingling with the opposite sex who were a centre piece or focal point of lubricious analysis. Although this was my main preoccupation, I do clearly remember the processes and procedures that consumed the church life and the Sunday services as well. On Sunday mornings, you had the procession led by the choir and then followed by the Ministers, while a glorious hymn was being sung by all. I usually sat beside the organ so I could feel the low notes blasting through the pipes and resonating within my bowels. I loved that moment; it was like one was caught up into the heavens for a moment. It was however a feeling of musical grandeur that enveloped me as I saw old men with all grayed hairs displaying ancient and modern tunes with pure delight, but all sounding so harmonious that I wished it wouldn’t stop. But I assure you, there was no substance to such reverie.



Someone may ask what the heck ‘Churchianity’ is, because it doesn’t seem to appear in any dictionary. But without any clarification, you might already begin to comprehend that this is simply referring to the concept of the church, the whole idea and its attendant issues. By Churchianity, I am referring to the institutional church as we have it today with all its religious activities, its forms, its patterns, its hierarchy and structure, as well as its belief system. I will move forward to declare that Churchianity is what Christianity has become after nearly 2000 years of its founding.  It has become highly fragmented by differences in doctrines all emanating from the same book of faith, as well as divided in the procedures of worship. Many are caught up here and are already neck deep into doctrinal and procedural cultures that have replaced the truth of worship and the true essence of fellowship with God.

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