The founder of LoveWorld Incorporated also known as Christ Embassy, Pastor Chris Oyakhilome has never hidden his disdain for anything about Covid-19 and the science of it. The “man of God” started by telling the world that the virus was nothing but a dangerous weapon called the 5G network and that all the alarm being raised about its fatality was just another brouhaha. Along the line, however, he received his baptism and started touting hydroxychloroquine as the wonder drug that could cure a disease he believed never existed. Recall that in May last year, the megapastor’s Loveworld Television Network based in the United Kingdom, was sanctioned by the Office of Communication for spreading misinformation about the pandemic.
Well today, Chris is not just back, but with a vengeance. In a new video being shared across social media platforms, he was seen forcefully doubling down on his claim about Covid vaccine, talking about the new world order and using such fancy scientific terms like spike protein, gene therapy and everything in between to dazzle whoever cares to listen. Even fellow pastors who dared to support the use of vaccine have come on his firing line. He does not believe that such congregation leaders are worthy of being called Christians since, in his words, they neither know God nor the scripture.
People like Pastor Chris are rich, powerful and dangerous. They dress up ignorance in elegant prose and Nigeria is home to many of them. I met one sometime ago, in a flight from Houston to Atlanta.
Each time I find myself flying in an airplane, I almost, always engage total strangers. As much as I try to convince myself that such moves help to broaden my horizon, there is the motivation that comes with the offer of an escape from the inconvenience of being huddled up in a space barely enough to contain my modest frame. Of course, I envy those spoilt business class brats with their entitlement to a huge legroom and a seat that comfortably retracts. Well, this time, I too got lucky.
Good day sir! How you dey? I said, with my best attempt yet at a friendly smile.
The man cocked his head right to my side, even as he gathers the rest of his suit, making sure it’s well tucked in within his allotted space.
Not minding the balmy weather, he spotted a purple-coloured 3-piece suit, over-sized and burdened with excessive details. He came complete with a big cross festooned on this neck. Looking at the whole ensemble, you get the impression he must have insisted his designer not do away with any piece of fabric. Being a Nigerian, it didn’t take long for me to decode this paraphernalia.
Casting one more glimpse at me as if to convince himself he heard right
“Are you Nigerian“, he asked and I answered in the affirmative. Can’t you tell? I retorted.
“Omo Ibo right?” I nodded
“Ah! I no fit o” he said, smiling as he surveyed back and forth as if to make sure that no one was eavesdropping in the conversation. Two minutes in and I was still struggling to understand this fellow. A hybrid of Nigerian, American and British accents made his English almost impossible to comprehend.
Sir, it seems like you didn’t grow up in Nigeria? I asked.
“I did”, he replied. “But why do you ask?”
