After spending some time in Akwa Ibom, I realised that returning to Lagos was no longer an option due to the lifestyle and circumstances I had been involved in, and this posed a serious threat to my pursuit of music as a classical and performing violinist. Starting over in Akwa Ibom became my only option, although I had no clear direction—except for a blank slate and the idea of starting an academy. At the time, I believed there was no real market for the performing arts in Akwa Ibom. When I arrived in Akwa Ibom, I taught music in schools, but that wasn’t the dream.
Before studying music, I wanted to be many things. Eventually, I settled on becoming a sound engineer, but no school in Nigeria offered the course at the time. Fortunately, I received a scholarship to study music and took it. One day, a lecturer of mine, a notable kora player and composer with influences from Gambia and the UK, asked what area of music I wanted to pursue. I hadn’t thought about it before, but I spontaneously answered, “Film music” because you always have to think big, but my energy had been focused solely on playing the violin.
It was during this uncertain period that I encountered Christ through street evangelism. A brother from this house, Brother Samuel Otaka, spoke to me. Although I didn’t understand much of what he said that day, I was drawn to him. His thoughts and mannerisms caught my attention. It was a very special encounter because just days before meeting Brother Samuel, I had prayed for new company, declaring that I was done with my former life. I took his number, and ever since, I haven’t stopped coming to God’s Lighthouse. Today, I fully understand what he was trying to share with me then—he was walking me through the life of Apostle Paul.
I didn’t come to God’s Lighthouse as a violinist—I came as someone seeking God, a new life, and a genuine place of worship. Back then, I only went where I was invited and if the money was right. Music had become an idol, and fame was all I desired. God and His will for my life weren’t even in the picture—the distractions were too massive.
Days before one of our retreats (I can’t recall which one exactly, but it was one of those where we’d camp at the secondary school we usually rented), a few brethren from the Ikot Ekpene church encouraged me to bring my violin to camp. I was reluctant at first, as I had lost all passion for it. But they persuaded me. I brought it along and ended up joining the worship session with it. That was how I began serving as a temple musician in God’s Lighthouse.
Around this time, there was a strong emphasis in our teachings and exhortations—particularly from Pastor and other brethren—that when you come to God, He takes things from you and returns them at the right time, if it’s His will. Those teachings stayed with me, even though I didn’t fully grasp what I had lost or what had been taken. I was simply grateful for the new life and looking forward to whatever God had planned for me.
If I had stayed in my old life, one of three things—or worse—might have happened: I could have killed someone, I could have been killed, or I could have run mad (which was my greatest fear at the time).
Looking back, I see that I had no hand in this journey. I didn’t make any grand choice. It felt like a divine “Passover” from Egypt to the Promised Land. God orchestrated everything perfectly. I was just a pawn, and He is the Sovereign King. Truly, His ways are past finding out.
Recently, I realised that most of my compositions and arrangements have a cinematic feel—you can listen and visualise scenes. I believe that was divine, because I’ve never started a project with a mental picture or melody in mind. It’s always a walk of faith: I begin with a sound, and the rest unfolds. It reminds me of the Scripture: “Open your mouth, and I will fill it”, or “Do not worry about what to say… I will give you the words.” {Psa 81:10,Mat 10:19–20}
God has now given me back music, not just as a career, but as an instrument for healing and spreading Truth. Today, I am not just a violinist, but also a sound engineer, and I didn’t spend a dime to become one. I could never have been able to afford it. I’m involved in every part of music creation, from top to bottom. I now barely have time to play the violin—except in God’s presence.
Indeed,
“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him.
It is good to hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.” Lamentations 3:25–26.
And even though I wasn’t actively hoping or waiting, He showed me mercy. This proves that He is good to both the righteous and the unrighteous.
I also thank God for opening my eyes to see where I came from and what He saved me from. On January 26th this year, Pastor Ita prayed that God would reveal to us the things He saved us from. The very next day, not up to 24 hours later, I stumbled upon different YouTube videos on street life, drug addiction, and cultism, specifically the same cult I would have joined. It struck me deeply. I saw the darkness and failure that could have been my end because I didn’t do anything lightly back then—I went all in.
On a recent visit to my mum’s house, I sat outside one evening when someone I had evangelised to came by to buy his usual fix from his dealer, who lives in the next compound. He was shocked to see me and asked what I was doing there. I told him it was my mum’s place. Excited, he admitted he came to buy weed and was disappointed it wasn’t what I was there for, as he genuinely thought I had come to buy marijuana too. His dealer, who lives in the next compound—someone I once introduced to smoking marijuana—came out and was equally excited to see me, and we exchanged greetings warmly.
This dealer is now known as one of the “bad boys” in town. I used to send him on errands to buy marijuana when I visited Akwa Ibom, and I encouraged him to drag a little smoke. Now, he told this friend about my past, and the guy was shocked. He said no one could ever guess I lived that life or come from that past. I was deeply grateful to God. I walked with the friend who came to buy the fix and shared more about that life and its consequences as I shared more of my story. He got emotional and admitted he wanted to be free. I pray for his deliverance, too.
My heart broke about a year later when the dealer said to me,
“Bros, you spoil me finish, now you don turn Pastor abi?”
I apologised to him and asked God for mercy. I’ve been trying to win him to the light, and I pray he comes through one day.
Looking back, I see that I didn’t plan this journey—God orchestrated every note. He took the violin I once idolised and gave it back as an instrument of worship. He turned my blank slate into a living testimony, filled with mercy, healing, and purpose. Today, I no longer play for fame but for the King, and every sound I create is a reminder that I was rescued from darkness and set apart for light. Even when I wasn’t waiting or hoping, God was good to me—and now, my life is a song only He could have written.
© GAM 2025
