Not every church get marble altar or cold AC. Some no even get building at all. But that doesn’t stop Jesus from showing up.

Because sometimes, ministry no dey start with mic, e dey start with a preaching on a street, a drunk crowd, and one guy saying “Pastor, we dey wait for you.”

This is the real-life story of a man who didn’t just plant a church,  he was led to build one under a Bridge in Lagos. Not because it was trending. Not because it was convenient. But because God sent him.

Welcome to Off The Streets — where we document real stories that most pulpits might skip. This one? You won’t forget.

How It Started.

 

 

He was just doing his normal preaching rounds that day, preaching in Ologolo, carrying his speaker, doing what street ministers do. But then God redirected him to Jakande Market. And on his way back, he saw a couple of people drunk, wasted and sleeping under the bridge..

His first instinct? Walk past. But something pulled him back. And God led him to go and preach to them. So he did. In the end, one man gave his life to Christ on the spot and another one told him to come back the next day.

He didn’t take it seriously.

Next day? Sunday morning. While he was dressing for church, he had a feeling to put off everything he had on and just go back to the bridge. He did and when he got there?

Two benches were waiting. The man was waiting. The church had started.

The story sweet abi? Well… until reality sets in.

It all sounds inspiring, the bridge, the benches, the souls giving their lives to Christ. But truth is, after a while, reality go begin show face. And when it did? It hit hard.

He said it himself, at some point, he started asking God, “Lord, are You really sending me to do this?”

Because it’s one thing to hear people’s testimonies.
But when you start hearing where they’re actually coming from, the things they’ve done, your head fit no carry am.

One part of you feels pity. The other part? It just wants to say, “This guy is a terrible person. Let him go. Let him face whatever he’s done.”

But then again… you remember, God sent you.
And part of that means learning how to love the unlovable. To care for people who don’t even know how to care for themselves.

According to him, this kind of work teaches you how to die to yourself every single day, because when you’re responsible for people who have nothing, it means sometimes your own needs have to wait.

You feed them. You house them. You help them fight their demons. And somehow, you keep going. Not because it’s easy, but because the same Jesus who found you is now asking you to do the same for someone else.

It’s not pretty. It’s not perfect. It’s just real.

And for this pastor under the bridge, na the only kind of obedience way make sense be that.

 

So how’s the whole thing being funded?

“God keeps helping us,” he said. Simple words, but you could feel the weight behind them. Because this thing no be just about preaching every Sunday.

There’s rent to sort. Debts to clear. People to feed. Medical bills. Past trouble to clean up before it comes back to bite. Sometimes it’s even shelter.

And the truth is, when you’re asking someone to leave the kind of life that’s been feeding them — maybe it’s crime, drugs, cultism, whatever — you can’t just say “Give your life to Christ” and walk away. You have to help them build a new life too.

“If you’re taking the old hustle from them, you must be ready to either replace it with something better, or carry the weight of their survival until something stable comes.” That’s what he told us.

And it makes sense. Because if the gospel doesn’t touch daily survival, is it really good news?

 

Gangsters in Church. Killers Holding Bibles. And Yes, They’re Getting Saved.

It’s easy to clap for testimonies until you realize your new usher used to be a gang leader. Or your church drummer once ran with a cult group that people still fear to mention by name.

One of the very first people who showed up when the church under the bridge began was a guy named John*. He was the one who arranged the benches on that very first Sunday. For a while, it seemed like John was really changing — he gave his life to Christ, started showing up regularly, and even began helping out with small things. Over time, people began to trust him more. They gave him responsibilities. At some point, they even kept the church benches, Bibles, and discipleship materials with him — believing that this was someone who had truly turned a new leaf.

But not too long after, everything turned upside down.

One day, they came to prepare for service and found that everything was gone. The benches, about 15 of them, the Bibles, the teaching manuals, all of it had disappeared. It turned out John had sold everything. Just like that.

The team was hurt. Angry, even. And honestly, everybody expected the pastor to take action — maybe call the police, maybe confront him and drag him for what he had done. Because after all, how do you betray that kind of trust?

But when John came back, looking tired, rough, and clearly not in a good place, the pastor didn’t shout. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t even bring up the missing items. Instead, he pulled John close, gave him a hug, and told someone to find him food.

People looked at him like he had lost his mind. They couldn’t understand it.

When asked about it, he said “Some of you have been sitting in church for 20 years and you’re still lying, still sleeping around, still hiding sin. So why are you shocked that someone from the street didn’t turn into Apostle Paul overnight?”

It didn’t make logical sense. But it made Kingdom sense.

Because that’s the kind of love Jesus gives — the kind that doesn’t always make sense to the watching world, but makes all the difference to the one who needs it most.

 

From One Chance to One Call: A Story That Still Leaves Us Speechless

When we asked him what his greatest transformation story was, out of all the people he’s discipled, walked with, prayed for, and cried over, he paused for a moment. Because the truth is, there have been many. People who came in broken and left with hope. People who were lost in all kinds of darkness and somehow found their way to the light.

But one story still stands out.

There’s a man — he won’t mention his name — who’s now an evangelist. Not in title, but in lifestyle. This man preaches the gospel every single morning. Just him, his voice, and the message that saved his life.

But his past? Heavy.

He used to be an armed robber. The real kind — not gist, not exaggeration. At one point, he was deep in the whole “one chance” hustle. He was also an assassin, yes, he had taken lives. There were bloodstains on his hands, and a prison sentence to match. That’s the kind of man he was when they met him.

And when they did, he was already at the edge. Not just emotionally or spiritually, he was physically at the point of death. Life had pressed him down to the last breath. But somehow, by grace only God can explain, he survived. He found Jesus. And Jesus didn’t just clean him up. He gave him a new calling.

Now, this same man wakes up and preaches every morning like it’s the only thing that matters, because maybe for him, it really is.

He doesn’t hide his past. But it doesn’t hold him hostage either. He serves. He stays close. He builds with the same people who once would’ve run from him.

And that — that kind of change — is what keeps the church under the bridge going. Not the numbers. Not the applause. But the kind of transformation that turns a killer into a carrier of hope.

 

And After Everything… What Makes It All Worth It?

After all the hard days, the stolen benches, the sleepless nights, the betrayals, the 70 missed calls before sunrise — we asked him what actually brings him joy. What are the moments that make him look up and say, “God, thank You for bringing me here”?

He didn’t hesitate.

He said it’s the change. That’s it.

Watching people who used to live like they had no hope start to smile again. Seeing former addicts open their Bible, underline scriptures, ask questions about grace. Watching someone who once slept under the bridge now tell another person, “Jesus can still save you.”

That’s the reward. Not money. Not recognition. But transformation.

He said seeing people who used to steal now teach. People who once caused harm now speaking about love. Former criminals now quoting scripture and preaching with fire in their bones, that’s what fills his heart.

It’s not fun in the way the world defines it. But there’s a kind of joy that comes when you know you’ve been sent, and you can actually see lives being rebuilt from the ashes.

That’s what keeps him going. That’s what makes it worth it.

And for a church under a bridge, with no pulpit, no AC, no building fund, that kind of joy is more than enough.

Because when you’ve tasted real redemption, even the roughest street can start to feel like holy ground.

 

 

If you want to support the Church Under the Bridge or just learn more about how to pray, partner or provide, here are the details:

1307710155,

PROVIDUS BANK,

THE BRIDGING CHURCH.

 

1028351338, 

UBA,

THE BRIDGING CHURCH.

Until then, keep your eyes open.
Because on these streets, God no dey hide.

*- Not real name