My Friend's Story

My friend, Sho, moved to the UK about twenty years ago to

join his wife, who is a British citizen.

I met Sho during my NYSC (National Youth Service Corps)

in Nigeria. He housed me throughout my service year. We served together in NCCF

(Nigeria Christian Corpers’ Fellowship), where he was our Rabbi (Bible Study

Secretary). We finished the same year.

Interestingly, Sho’s family attended the same church as

my grand-aunt. I still remember when his father passed on at a ripe old age and

we went for the funeral. My grand-aunt and her friends—all elderly women—were

there enjoying themselves, drinking, smoking, and laughing. It was an amusing

moment of cultural contrast.

From the beginning, I observed certain qualities in Sho:

diligence, commitment, shrewdness, wisdom, and most importantly, a deep love

for the LORD. Being the youngest son of an elderly father had shaped him into a

careful and thoughtful man.

When Sho moved to the UK, he and his wife initially lived

with his brother-in-law while he trusted God for a job. Because he was already

into technology and had prepared himself before relocating, it wasn’t long

before he secured a good job. Soon after, he and his wife bought a house in

East London.

They found a church there as well and plugged in

fully—serving, committed, hopeful, and trusting God for the fruit of the womb.

For years, they waited on the Lord.

Then a storm hit. Their pastor—quite popular at the

time—was suddenly reported to be under investigation for a crime. Before long,

he was arraigned and sentenced to prison. The shock was massive. The church

went into chaos. Even though another leader stepped in to pastor the

congregation, the truth remained: the shepherd had been struck, and the sheep

scattered.

I don’t blame those who left; I cannot say for certain

what I would have done in their shoes. It was a mass exodus. But Sho stayed.

When I heard that many members had left, I called him. I

asked if they were still attending that church. He said yes. My immediate

response was, “I knew you wouldn’t leave. I knew you’d stay.”

Can you believe that in that same year, Sho’s wife

conceived? They did not move with the crowd; they sought the Lord, and He told

them to stay. They obeyed—and God honoured their obedience.

Sho turned fifty last year, and the same pastor—now long

out of prison—was the one who preached at his birthday thanksgiving. Sho lives

in KSA now, but he returned to London to celebrate that milestone.

Today, we live in a world where with a few taps on a

phone, you can “cancel” someone and invite the entire world to join in.

Companies that once celebrated certain individuals will quickly distance

themselves the moment those individuals make a politically incorrect statement.

They pioneered cancel culture without calling it by name.

Sadly, this mindset has crept into the Church.

The moment a man or woman of God slips, or a popular

Christian says or does something wrong, some believers rush to YouTube and

social media to announce the person’s downfall. They “cancel” them

immediately—cutting ties, distancing themselves, and sometimes using the

situation as a platform for their own visibility. I am not saying wrongdoing

should not be corrected; correction is biblical. But our reaction matters.

How about praying first?

How about remembering that this person is still a brother

or sister in Christ?

How about resisting the urge to exploit another

believer’s fall to promote ourselves?

Whether we realise it or not, Christians set the tone for

the world. You carry far more influence than you know. When we resist the

spirit of cancellation—especially towards our own brethren—and choose loyalty

to the cross, we will be amazed at what God does in us, through us, and for us.

Even the peace of mind alone—refusing to let strangers online dictate your

posture—is a blessing.

If you and I call ourselves Christians, then we owe it to

the cross to shape our responses according to the Word, not according to

trends. Romans 14:4 says, “Who are you to judge another man’s servant? To his

own master he stands or falls.”

It may be someone else today, but tomorrow it could be

you or me. We are all human, and we all need grace.