Category: Evangelism

You live next door to Alhaji Musa. He is a decent man — he greets you every morning, his children play with yours, and last Sallah he sent over meat without being asked. But you know something he does not yet know: that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, the only Saviour of mankind. The question is not whether to tell him. The question is how — with love, with wisdom, and with the full weight of Scripture behind you.

Many Nigerian Christians hesitate at this point. Some fear offending a neighbour and straining a peaceful relationship. Others launch in aggressively, quoting verses like ammunition, and wonder why the conversation ends in anger. Neither fear nor aggression is the biblical model. The apostle Peter gives us the governing principle: “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear” (1 Peter 3:15). Notice the three requirements — a sanctified heart, readiness, and meekness. All three must be present before you open your mouth.

Before any conversation, examine your heart. Do you genuinely love your Muslim neighbour, or do you merely want to win an argument? Jesus wept over Jerusalem before He judged it (Luke 19:41). Paul wrote, “Brethren, my heart’s desire and prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved” (Romans 10:1). If you approach your neighbour with frustration, superiority, or a point-scoring mentality, the Spirit of God will not honour that posture. Prayer must precede conversation. Pray specifically for Alhaji Musa by name. Ask God to prepare his heart, to soften what is hard, and to give you the right words at the right moment.

When the moment does come, begin with what you share, not with what divides you. Both Islam and Christianity affirm that there is one God, that Jesus was born of a virgin, and that He performed miracles. Start there — not to compromise the gospel, but to build a bridge of genuine respect. Your neighbour already knows you believe in God. Let him see that your faith shapes how you live: your honesty, your generosity, your peace in difficulty. Jesus taught, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16). In Northern Nigeria especially, your life is a sermon your neighbour reads before he will ever listen to your words.

When the conversation deepens, the central question you must lead him to is the question of Jesus Christ. Islam respects Jesus as a prophet. Christianity declares Him as Lord and Saviour. This is not a small difference — it is the defining difference. Do not dance around it. Gently but clearly, bring him to John 14:6: “Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” Ask him what he makes of that claim. A prophet does not say such things. A good teacher does not say such things. This statement demands a verdict — either Jesus is who He says He is, or He is not. Let the Scripture do the heavy lifting. You are not arguing with your neighbour; you are introducing him to a Person.

Another critical truth to present, patiently and lovingly, is the matter of sin and atonement. Islam teaches that man’s sins can be balanced by good deeds and God’s mercy. The Bible teaches something more radical and more honest about the human condition: “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). No scale of good works can satisfy a holy God. This is not an insult to your neighbour’s efforts — it is the same truth that applies to every human being, including you. And then offer the most beautiful news in the world: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). God did not leave us to balance our own scales. He sent His Son to pay what we could never pay.

Expect resistance. Expect questions. Do not treat questions as attacks. A man who is asking questions is a man who is thinking, and a man who is thinking may be a man whom God is drawing. Answer what you can, admit what you do not know, and never mock or dismiss what he believes. Proverbs 15:1 reminds us, “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up strife.” You may not lead him to Christ in one conversation. In fact, you likely will not. Evangelism is rarely a single event — it is a sustained, faithful witness over time. Stay consistent. Stay kind. Stay truthful.

Finally, remember that conversion is the work of the Holy Spirit, not your persuasion. Your role is to plant the seed faithfully. “So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase” (1 Corinthians 3:7). You are not responsible for the harvest — you are responsible for the sowing. Sow well. Sow in love. Sow with the Word.

Alfaji Musa lives next door to you for a reason. God, who orders the steps of a man, has placed you in proximity to him. Do not waste that assignment through silence or through harshness. Open your mouth with the gospel — not as a weapon, but as a gift. The eternal soul of your neighbour is worth every awkward moment, every careful word, and every prayer you will ever pray for him.

Imagine this: a young man raises his hand during a crusade altar call in Lagos. He repeats the sinner’s prayer, receives a tract, shakes the evangelist’s hand, and walks back into his neighbourhood — back to the same friends, the same habits, the same confusion about who God is. Six months later, nobody knows where he is spiritually. Was he saved? Perhaps. Was he discipled? Almost certainly not. This scene repeats itself across Nigeria every single week, and it points to one of the most urgent gaps in the modern church: we have become experts at making converts, but strangers to making disciples.

The Great Commission, which every believer can quote, is actually far more demanding than we often acknowledge. In Matthew 28:19-20, Jesus did not say ‘Go and win souls.’ He said, ‘Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.’ The operative command is not merely ‘go’ — it is ‘teach.’ The Greek word behind ‘teach all nations’ is ‘matheteusate,’ meaning to make disciples, to enrol someone as a learner under a teacher. Salvation is the door, but discipleship is the life lived inside the house.

This distinction matters enormously. A convert has made a decision. A disciple is in a process. Conversion can happen in a moment at an altar; discipleship takes years at a table. When Jesus called His own twelve, He did not hand them a booklet and send them away. He walked with them, ate with them, corrected them publicly, challenged their assumptions, and showed them how the Kingdom of God works from the inside out. Luke 6:40 states plainly, ‘The disciple is not above his master: but every one that is perfect shall be as his master.’ The goal of discipleship is conformity — not to a church culture, not to a denomination’s identity, but to Christ Himself.

The Apostle Paul understood this with great clarity. In 2 Timothy 2:2, he writes, ‘And the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.’ Notice the generational architecture Paul describes: Paul taught Timothy, Timothy would teach faithful men, those men would teach others. This is not a programme. This is a pipeline. Discipleship, done biblically, is designed to multiply — not just add. Yet too many Nigerian churches measure success by Sunday attendance figures rather than by how many members are actively reproducing their faith in someone else.

One reason discipleship has been neglected is that it is costly. It demands time, vulnerability, and consistency. It is far easier to preach to a crowd than to sit with one struggling young believer every Tuesday evening and walk him through the book of Romans. It is far easier to celebrate a decision card than to follow up six months later when that same person is about to abandon his marriage. But consider what Jesus said in Luke 14:27-28: ‘And whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple. For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?’ Discipleship requires counting the cost — not just by the one being discipled, but by the one doing the discipling.

For the Nigerian believer, this call is both urgent and culturally possible. African community life already contains the relational infrastructure that discipleship requires — extended family bonds, neighbourhood accountability, elder-to-youth mentoring. The challenge is to intentionally sanctify these structures for Kingdom purposes. A senior deacon investing deliberately in a new convert in his street is discipleship. A Christian businesswoman meeting monthly with three younger women in her industry to discuss faith, work, and integrity is discipleship. A pastor training lay leaders who can shepherd small groups across a city is discipleship. None of these require a building or a budget. They require obedience and love.

Churches must also reconsider how they measure evangelistic success. Leading someone to pray the sinner’s prayer is a beginning, not a finish line. The early church in Acts 2:42 modelled what came after conversion: ‘And they continued stedfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers.’ Four pillars — doctrine, fellowship, communion, and prayer — formed the daily rhythm of the new believer’s life. There was no such thing as a lone-ranger Christian in the early church. New converts were immediately folded into a community of accountability and teaching. This is the pattern Scripture endorses, and it is the pattern the Nigerian church must recover.

Practically, every believer reading this should ask three questions right now. First: who is discipling me? If you cannot name a person who intentionally speaks into your spiritual growth, you are spiritually orphaned regardless of how long you have been saved. Seek that relationship. Second: who am I discipling? If you have been a believer for more than two years and cannot name one person you are intentionally investing in, you are disobeying the commission. Not because of guilt — but because you are carrying a gift that was always meant to be given away. Third: is my church creating systems that move people from the row to the relationship? Sunday services are critical, but they cannot alone produce discipleship. Small groups, mentoring structures, and accountability partnerships must be built into the culture of the local church.

The harvest across Nigeria is genuinely great — in the markets, in the universities, in the civil service, in the villages. But a harvest that is reaped and not processed rots. The work of evangelism is not complete when someone says yes to Jesus. It is complete — or rather, it is well underway — when that person is being taught, anchored, and released to do the same for someone else. Go, and make disciples. Not just converts. Disciples.