I still remember the day I embraced Jesus Christ. I was young, hopeful — and full of faith. But that faith almost cost me my life. On that same day, my own uncle raised a machete and slashed at my neck. My family didn’t call a doctor or give me aid — they assumed I was dead. They carried me out, threw me away as though I were lifeless and unworthy of burial.
That brutal moment, that betrayal from blood relations, should have broken me. Instead, it forged in me an unshakable resolve: I will proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ no matter what. I named my ministry THE GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST MUST BE PREACHED — not because it sounds good, but because it is my solemn mission: to bring hope and salvation to souls, even if it means risking everything.
Today, my home shelters more than one hundred former Muslims — men, women, even elders — who fled their homes because they chose Christ. Their families rejected them. Some were thrown out into the streets. Some were threatened with death. Many have nothing but the clothes on their backs.
Among them is an elderly man, over eighty years old. He was thrown from a storey building by relatives who said he no longer belonged to them. By grace God spared him — but he remains with me, in hiding, unable to return to his former life.
This is our reality, driven by something darker than poverty or displacement: fear, hatred, religious intolerance.
Why We Preach — It’s Life or Death
We are not doing a charity outreach. We are waging spiritual and existential warfare. For many of those who converted from Islam to Christianity in northern Nigeria — or even in other parts of the country — the consequences are terrifying. As recent advocacy reports illustrate, conversion can trigger family rejection, violence, and even death threats.
There are stories like that of a young woman, presented under the pseudonym “Mary” — an 18-year-old whose family threatened to kill her simply because she chose to follow Jesus. With help from a human rights organisation, she managed to obtain a high-court restraining order protecting her life.
Others — like a man called Salisu Bala — survived confinement, deprivation of food and water, psychological torture, and threats on his life, simply because he would not renounce his faith.
These are not isolated incidents. Dozens of cases of Muslim-to-Christian conversions in Nigeria have been documented, and many converts are forced to flee their homes and live in safe houses for fear of persecution.
In a society where religious identity is deeply entangled with family and community, conversion often marks you for life — not only socially, but as a target.
Why I Took Them In
When I opened my home, I did so knowing full well what I was risking — but I couldn’t stand by and watch helplessly. These men and women saw what I saw: at the moment of their eyes opening to the Gospel, their world collapsed. Families turned away. Churches were closed, or hostile. No safe lodging. No future. Nothing.
I offered them shelter. I offered them hope. I offered — and still offer — a new beginning. A new family. A love that defines itself by grace, not by blood.
Because I believe deeply that every soul deserves the chance to hear the Gospel. No forcing. No blackmail. No ultimatums. Just the truth — and the freedom to choose.
What They Face — The Hidden Reality
What you see in major newspapers or broadcast on TV is only part of the reality. The true extent of what converts suffer rarely gets reported. Many incidents of rejection, torture, and expulsion remain unreported. Many victims are too afraid, too ashamed, or too traumatized to speak. Many simply disappear.
In some northern states — and even in other regions — the dominant social structure makes it almost impossible for a convert to practice Christianity openly. Reports from human rights organizations show that converts often must hide their faith, avoid Christian symbols, and steer clear of known Christian gatherings.
What is supposed to be a matter of personal faith becomes a matter of “life or death.”
I Speak Because They Cannot — And the Gospel Must Be Preached
That is why my ministry exists: “THE GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST MUST BE PREACHED.” Not quietly, not only behind closed doors — but loud enough to challenge darkness. Loud enough to offer hope. Loud enough to demand justice.
Because each of those former Muslims living with me today — the old man, the young youths, the women, the broken families — they carry more than scars. They carry stories. Stories of betrayal, survival, conversion, hope. Stories that must be seen and heard.
I am not naive. I know the risk. I know that some may still wish to kill — to silence — those who found the “light” of Christ. But I am convinced: Truth and love are stronger than fear.
The Bible can be read in any language people understand. Its message can be proclaimed anywhere, to anyone, without violence, force or coercion. And if embracing that message means standing alone — so be it.
I am Evangelist Mohammed Mohammed — once Muslim, now fully devoted to Christ. We will not stop. We will not hide. We will preach — because people need to hear. And if it costs us everything? So be it. Because some souls will only be saved by the message.
🙏 If you believe in the freedom to choose faith — pray for my brothers and sisters who now walk in the light. Pray for protection. Pray for courage. Pray that what has been hidden in darkness will be revealed in the love of Jesus Christ.
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