09/08/2026
It was January of 1995 and I was resting in
preparation for a preaching campaign to begin that night in Porto Novo, a city 20 miles away on the border of Nigeria.
My telephone rang. The voice on the other end said that Mathieu Kérékou, the ex-president of Benin wanted very much to meet with me at his home. I agreed immediately.
My heart beat faster as I dressed for the occasion. I really wanted to meet this man. Four years ago, in 1991, he had peacefully given up his power through a democratic election. As a military strong man he could have held onto power through force, like so many others, but he had chosen not to. I liked the idea that he was one of the new generation of African strong men to bow to the will of the
people. He represented a liberating kind of leadership on a continent that desperately needed it.
On the other hand, I remembered that he had come to power in typical African fashion. In 1972 he had managed a military coup as another ruler who thought the future lay with communism. In 1989, however, he had rejected
Marxist-Leninist philosophy as Gorbachev began to institute perestroika and glasnost. For good-thinking people, the end of the Soviet empire seemed inevitable. Perhaps his change in politics indicated a true change of heart, as well.
If so, I wanted to know for sure. Without delay, I took my Bible and called Peter van den Berg to accompany me to his house.
We arrived at a heavily fortified military compound. I recalled that over the years there had been many attempts on Kérékou’s life. Outwitting assassins and coup attempts was par for the course for African leadership; who could blame him for seeking so much protection. I announced myself to the guards who were expecting us. The gates swung open. We were directed to the Kérékou residence.
As our car approached the house, Mathieu and his wife came out to greet us. He was a strikingly handsome figure. A tall, ramrod-straight man with salt and pepper
hair, high cheekbones, and a regal bearing. I thought that everything about him bore the air of a polished leader who had left his revolutionary ways far behind.
As we walked toward the house he explained why he had called for me. “My wife and I have heard much about you.
We have seen a number of your videos. When I heard that you were in the country I simply had to call you because I want to get saved properly.”
I stopped in my tracks, nearly losing my balance. No one had ever asked such a thing of me. … to get saved properly. I was stunned.
“I am your man for the job,” I agreed, shaking his hand.
As we drove away I said to Peter, “I feel this man really met Jesus today, it is just a pity that he is an ex-president.” He nodded his agreement.
I handed him the bottle. “And it is your job to properly dispose of this.”
We continued into the house and I opened my Bible and presented the gospel to him, properly. He and his wife both knelt and accepted Jesus, properly. I felt a strong
confirmation that his conversion was truly sincere.
As we left for the meeting in Porto Novo he rushed back out of the house carrying a bottle of fine French wine,which he presented to me. He explained that it was the. prize bottle from his cellar, an exclusive champagne, Dom
Pérignon. This was not the time to explain that I did not drink alcoholic beverages, nor did I know anything about Dom whats-his-name. I thanked him and took it. His heart was in the right place, and I felt that he was expressing
gratitude over the new life of Christ that he had just received.
We scheduled only six African crusades in ’96. To that schedule we added two campaigns in India, one in Indonesia, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan, for a total of ten.
As we worked through our campaign schedule of ’96, in April I heard the joyful news that Mathieu Kérékou had been reelected president of Benin. As he took the oath of office, it was reported in the press, he left out the portion
of the oath that referred to the “spirits of the ancestors.”
He said that it violated his Christian faith to invoke those spirits. This action angered many pagan factions in Benin,causing riot conditions in some quarters. I sent him a message of congratulations and encouragement. Here was
more evidence that this brother had really been born again.
Later that year I heard another bit of news about President Kérékou that lit a fire of hope in my heart for solving our problem with Nigeria. It was reported that he had gone to
visit the president of Nigeria, Sani Abacha, to plead for the life of a former Nigerian president whom Abacha had imprisoned as a rival. The intercession had proven successful. This was very significant because in such situations a man’s life is not worth two pennies in Africa.
In this case the prisoner was former president, Olusegun Obasanjo, a military general who had become outspoken about human rights abuses under Abacha. He had also been lured into a false coup attempt that turned out to be
a sting. This allowed him to be arrested and charged with treason, a capital offense. Mathieu Kérékou had taken it upon himself to intervene on his behalf.
Kérékou felt a kinship with Obasanjo for several reasons.
First, because Obasanjo had been Kérékou’s mentor and role model in handing his government over to a civilian president. In 1979, Obasanjo had been the first African
leader to do it. Kérékou had done it twelve years later in Benin, in 1991. The two men also shared a new-found faith in Jesus Christ. I had led Kérékou to “properly”
receive the Lord, though I had been made aware that others had also delivered a witness to him, and Obasanjo had become a Christian in prison while awaiting ex*****on.
After Kérékou’s visit with Sani Abacha, Obasanjo remained in prison, but was kept alive under orders of the Nigerianhead of state. I immediately saw that Kérékou was an effective ambassador with the Nigerian president. Perhaps he could successfully represent CfaN as well.
In December of that year, CfaN held its last campaign in the city of Parakou, Benin. Arriving at the airport in Cotonou, I could hardly believe my eyes. I was received like a head of state. A red carpet had been laid for me to walk on as I exited the plane. Military color guards stood
at attention. Nothing like it had ever been done for me before. President Kérékou sent his personal Mercedes limousine for my transportation. A retinue of police officers
on motorcycles accompanied us to the presidential palace.
Upon arriving, the president met us, his face shining like the sun. He exuded pure joy at being able to give a man of God this kind of red carpet treatment. In every respect he reflected the enthusiasm of his new faith in Jesus. He
introduced me to his personal chaplain, Reverend Zanou and I introduced Peter van den Berg and our African crusade director, Revered John Darku.
As we sat together, the president said to me, “I hope you brought application forms.”
“Application forms? For what?”
He acted surprised. “I would like to join the Christ for all Nations team, of course.”I was so grateful for the eagerness of his heart. “Your
Excellency,” I replied, “your application is refused. The hand of God has lifted you to the highest office of this nation. That is your mission field. I pray that you may become the best president this country has ever had!”
Our conversation moved on. We discussed many aspects of our work in Africa. Then, at last, I said to him, “I have heard that you are a close friend of the president of Nigeria, Mr. Sani Abacha.”
“Oh, yes,” he replied, “we are like twins.”
I nodded. “I have a request to make of you, Mr.
President.” I told him the story of Kano and of our expulsion. “My heart is breaking to return there to reap the harvest that is waiting to be reached in Nigeria. Can you help us?”
“I’m sure I can fix that,” he said. “Did you know that Kano is where Abacha was born?”
“No, I did not.”
“Yes. I will need some time, you understand. But I believe I can find common ground for a discussion of your situation.”
“I cannot tell you how important it is to me, Mr. President,to know that you, of all people, would take up our cause.
This problem has weighed on my heart like a 1,000-pound weight, and nothing has been able to move it.”“Yes,” he said, nodding and smiling, “I believe I can fix that.”
Truly, I felt the Lord was about to open a door no man could shut.
“My duties are calling,” he said. “But before I leave you, I also have a special request to make of you.”
“Absolutely. What can I do for you, Mr. President?”
“I have 70 Japanese businessmen here in the palace. They want to do business in Benin. I have been meeting with them in a room right next door to us. From our conversations I would say they have never heard the message of Jesus.”
I lit up like a flood light. “I can certainly fix that,” I said.
“And it will be a pleasure to do so.”
I was so amazed. Here he was, president of Benin, a new Christian, and already with the heart of an evangelist.
Surely his conversion was as genuine as any I have witnessed. I took my Bible into the next room with him. He introduced me to the Japanese delegation as a man of God. They had no idea what had hit them. I opened my
Bible and preached the ABCs of the gospel to those 70 businessmen. Several received Jesus.
- Reinhard Bonnke (Living A Life Of Fire)
- Spiritual Notes
