Afokpella Fire Invasion

It was the last days of the year 2000 — a season marked with hunger for God, brokenness, and a desperate yearning for revival. I had journeyed to Afeokpella with a few burning brothers — Brother Gabriel Sado (now Apostle Love S. Gabriel), Brother Prefer, and others who came down from the North.

We had just finished 21 days of dry fasting in Lagos — no food, no water — crying out for the fire of God. When we got to Afokpella on December 26th, we continued another three days locked in a room, speaking in tongues relentlessly, preparing our spirits for an invasion.

On the third day, something shifted. Two young ladies entered to serve us food. I asked if they were baptized in the Holy Ghost. They said no. I attempted to rise from the bed, and before I could reach them, the power of God fell. Both instantly began speaking in tongues — one of them was named Rebecca.

That was only a preview.

When I rose to minister, it felt as though I stepped aside and the Holy Spirit Himself took over the service. Even children — as young as five years old — were speaking in tongues. People were lifted and overwhelmed by the presence of God.

The atmosphere was thick — heavy — like liquid fire. A single song echoed through my spirit all night:

“The Balm of Gilead is here tonight…”

It aligned perfectly with the Scripture in Jeremiah 8:22:

“Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there? why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?”

The next day, we were summoned by one of the most respected lawyers in the community who wanted to know what had happened to his daughters following the revival.

Here is what happened that night in their home:

All four daughters had returned from the meeting and gone to bed as usual. Around midnight, the youngest, who had been filled with the Holy Ghost during the revival, suddenly began speaking in tongues in her sleep.

Her sister heard her and assumed something was wrong. She alerted the others, and together they rushed to help — but they couldn’t enter the room. The atmosphere was too heavy, too charged, almost like they were being held at the door by an unseen force.

The father heard the commotion and hurried to see what was happening.

Right there, in his presence, something remarkable occurred:

The other daughters — one after the other — began blasting in tongues right at the doorway.

The entire house was thrown into confusion. Their room filled with what looked like a thick, smoky presence, even though nothing physical was burning. That was what prompted the father’s urgent invitation for us to come and explain ourselves.

When we arrived, the presence of God fell again. His wife, who had been trusting God for a child, received a prophetic word:

“By this time next year, you will give birth to a male child.”

While still in their home, a message came that we should visit the mother of one of our brothers who was sick.

But unknown to us, we had been tricked — the woman was already dead, and preparations for her burial were underway.

Since we were already at the home, we chose to worship and pray before leaving.

As we prayed, the atmosphere shifted again.

Suddenly, the woman sneezed, opened her eyes, and returned to life.

Shock spread through the village like wildfire. People ran through the streets screaming, “She’s alive! She’s alive!”

Encouraged by this miracle, Brother Gabriel insisted we go to the community lunatic asylum where dangerous, violent cases were kept. We went, prayed, and the Lord moved again — deliverance after deliverance.

A Community Engulfed by Revival

By evening, the church was overflowing — inside, outside, on the windows, around the compound — people stood everywhere, hungry for God.

Healings, deliverance, manifestations of the Spirit, salvation — it was a wave of glory that swallowed the community.

In all these things, one truth stands tall:

God is merciful. God is faithful.

We were young, inexperienced, without mentorship or training. But we were hungry — and 

God honored our hunger with an outpouring that transformed a community.