11/08/2026
MY FATHER. MY GENERAL OVERSEER. MY MENTOR. MY FATHER IN THE LORD.
There are some losses that words cannot adequately explain.
There are some people whose departure creates a vacuum that words cannot fill.
Today, I am struggling to write because I am not simply mourning my General Overseer.
I am mourning my father
My father in the Lord.My mentor.My teacher.My spiritual guide.The man whose life became part of my own journey in ministry.
Daddy, for over 35 years, our lives have been connected.
Over three and a half decades of knowing you, walking with you, serving under you, learning from you, travelling with you, listening to you and watching your life closely.
And as I look back today, with tears in my eyes and gratitude in my heart, I can boldly say:
I HAVE NO REGRET.
No regret for being your son.
No regret for following you.
No regret for serving under you.
No regret for the years I spent close to you.
No regret for the things you taught me.
If I were given another opportunity to choose again, I would still choose to be your son.
For years, I had the uncommon privilege of living with you under the same roof.
I moved around with you.
I served with you.
I watched you closely—not just from the pulpit, but in the ordinary moments of life.
And what I saw was not merely a preacher.
I saw a man of God.
I saw godliness.
I saw dedication.
I saw commitment.
I saw discipline.
I saw sacrifice.
I saw a man who gave himself to the work of God.
I saw ministry beyond the microphone.
I saw what it means to carry an assignment.
I saw what it means to serve God when nobody is watching.
And for more than two decades, I had the privilege of serving as your personal interpreter.
What an uncommon privilege.
What an uncommon school.
What an uncommon grace.
Standing beside you for all those years, interpreting your messages, listening to your thoughts, hearing your teachings repeatedly and travelling with you became more than an assignment.
It became a school of ministry.
I did not know then how much God was doing in my life through that privilege.
Today, I know.
I encountered Grace.
I encountered a grace that cannot be obtained merely by reading books.
A grace that came through proximity.
A grace that came through observation.
A grace that came through service.
A grace that came through years of sitting close to a father.
Daddy, you taught me many things.
But some of the lessons you taught me will remain with me for the rest of my life.
You taught me that “Iyan Oro n mu”—there is a famine of the Word.
You made me understand that the greatest need of the Church is not merely miracles, signs and wonders, but the Word of God.
You taught me that miracles may happen and pass, but the Word remains.
You taught me that signs and wonders can attract people, but the Word establishes them.
You taught me that beyond the little I may know about preaching, I must never become satisfied with what I already know.
You taught me that inspiration does much.
You taught me to always ask God for inspiration.
Not merely information.
Not merely knowledge.
Not merely eloquence.
INSPIRATION
You taught me that when God inspires a man, he can speak beyond his preparation.
You taught me to depend on the Holy Spirit.
You taught me that ministry must never become a pursuit of money.
You taught me never to make money a priority in ministry.
That lesson is engraved in my heart.
You showed me that God's work must remain God's work.
That the altar must not become a marketplace.
That the minister must never allow financial considerations to become the reason for answering God's call.
Daddy, these were not merely things you preached.
You lived them.
That is why they became powerful lessons to me.
I lived with you.
I moved with you.
I served with you.
I watched you when there was no congregation to impress.
I watched you when there was no camera.
I watched you when there was no applause.
And what I saw repeatedly was godliness and dedication
That is one of the greatest things I will remember about you.
You were not just teaching me ministry.
You were showing me ministry.
You were not just teaching me how to preach.
You were teaching me how to live.
You were not just teaching me how to stand before people.
You were teaching me how to stand before God.
Daddy, there are many things I could say about you.
There are many memories that will never leave me.
The journeys.
The meetings.
The conversations.
The teachings.
The moments under the same roof.
The moments standing beside you.
The countless times I interpreted your words.
The countless lessons I gathered simply by being around you.
And today, I realize that I was gathering treasures without knowing how valuable they would become when the teacher was no longer here.
You deposited something in me.
And I promise you, Daddy, I will not allow that deposit to die.
Your voice may have become silent, but the things you taught me will continue to speak through my life.
Your physical presence may no longer be with me, but your influence will continue to live in me.
I will continue to preach the Word.
I will continue to seek divine inspiration.
I will continue to honour the call.
I will continue to serve God.
I will continue to remember that ministry is first about God and not money.
I will continue to pursue godliness.
I will continue to value dedication.
And I will continue to remember that what God gives a man is not for him alone; it is a deposit for generations.
Daddy, you were my General Overseer.
But to me, you were much more than that.
You were my father.
And there is a pain that comes with losing a father that words cannot explain.
I will miss you.
I will miss your voice.
I will miss your presence.
I will miss your counsel.
I will miss those moments of being around you.
I will miss standing beside you.
I will miss interpreting for you.
I will miss the privilege of simply being able to say:
“My Daddy”
But I am grateful.
Grateful that God allowed our paths to meet.
Grateful for over 35 years of relationship.
Grateful for the years under the same roof.
Grateful for the years of travelling and serving together.
Grateful for more than two decades of interpreting your messages.
Grateful for every lesson.
Grateful for every deposit.
Grateful for the grace I encountered.
And above all, grateful that when I had the opportunity to know you closely, I saw a man who loved God and gave himself to His work.
Daddy, I may not be able to repay you.
But I can carry your teachings.
I can protect the deposit.
I can live the lessons.
I can serve God faithfully.
And I can make sure that the years you invested in me were not wasted.
You may have left this earthly stage, but you did not leave empty.
You left sons.
You left ministers.
You left leaders.
You left memories.
You left teachings.
You left a legacy.
And by God's grace, I will be one of the living testimonies of your investments.
My father.
My General Overseer.
My mentor.
My teacher.
My interpreter's master.
My father in the Lord.
For over 35 years, I knew you.For over two decades, I served closely with you.For years, I lived under the same roof with you.And today, I can say with tears but without regret:
IT WAS AN HONOUR TO BE YOUR SON.
Rest well, Daddy.
Your son will miss you.
Your son will remember you.
Your son will carry the deposit.
And by the grace of God,
YOUR SON WILL CONTINUE THE JOURNEY.
Until we meet again at the feet of Jesus.
REST IN PEACE, MY FATHER.
“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”— 2 Timothy 4:7 (KJV)
REST IN PEACE, MY FATHER.
