Within the Christian community in Nigeria and beyond, Koinonia as a name has grown in leaps and bounds. It’s something of a household name right now. We have become very familiar with this ministry and especially with the set man — Apostle Joshua Selman.
This has driven up my desire to see what it looks like in person. Alongside millions of people who are not residents in Abuja, we have become acquainted with Koinonia mostly through social media. Live programs, short and edited clips of messages, and pictures from services are the closest we have come.
This inquisitiveness brought me to a friend, Jessy, who I know to be a regular Koinonia attendee. I knew the chances of finding my way to the place and having a close feel of what Koinonia is like would surge drastically. And so it did.
So from here on, I am going to take you with me on my Koinonia experience from Sunday, 26th January 2024. Walk with me.
With a precise description from Jessy, I was able to navigate my way from Lugbe to Utako. The service normally starts at 5 PM, but I got on my way about an hour earlier. Jessy had promised to keep a seat for me.
On getting to Utako, I got my change from the driver and crossed over to the other side of the road. I asked where Chida Event Center was from the first calm-looking man I came across, he pointed the road to me and told me to maintain a straight line in my walk. I saw no signpost nor any form of identification to tell if Chida was close by or further away.
The three things I observed, while I kept walking and looking out for Chida Event Center, were the orange and white cones arranged in the middle of the road just up ahead to split it into two; the number of cars parked on either side of the double-lane road; the nature of people that were walking ahead and behind me — some of them had Bibles, some had the typical church look, and some had songs in their mouths — and you could tell they were headed somewhere; it was no rocket science for me to figure out that we were heading the same place.
As I approached the cones, I already saw the hefty, heavily armed security agents ahead, people (young and old) who were properly aligned in a straight line, stopped for a search. I joined up with the queue — at this point, there was still no clear recognition of where I was. I only kept using my initiative to figure everything out. After we were scanned, we proceeded to the gate and entered freely. There I was, standing at the Chida Event Center.
I slowed my movement to catch a clear overall view of this place — so this is the Koinonia they’ve been talking about? I didn’t have the luxury of space to linger on a spot as there were lots of movements around me. People in their hundreds were trooping in within minutes. So all these people are going for Koinonia too?” I thought to myself.
Instantly, I reached for my pocket and brought out my phone to call Jessy, who had said to call her once I got there. She came out and took me in.
As I made my way in, I was greeted by a heavy crowd of people, coming in and going out. Some had crested Koinonia vests, I suspected them to be workers.
Jessy led me in to where I thought was going to be the main auditorium, but it wasn’t. We went straight to the basement. That was where she could find her seat, and mine.
“Jessy, what’s up, why this place?”
“I didn’t come on time. I got here around 2 PM and the main auditorium was filled up already.” She responded.
To be sure I got her words clearly, I said “Wait! You mean you got here three hours before time and you couldn’t get a seat in the main auditorium?”
“Yes o”
“In fact, people normally start coming in from 12 PM or thereabouts. A lot of people have been here since morning.” She explained.
Since morning ke?! I quickly secured my one privileged seat with my Bible.
The congregation is subdivided into three main parts — the main auditorium which includes the gallery, the basement, and the overflow outside.
The occupants of the main auditorium are the ones privileged to see everything going on on the altar live and direct. The image below describes what it looks like.
The basement has the remnants of the main auditorium occupying it. It looks like a different church gathering entirely. The number of people there can make up a whole church congregation of its own.
The overflow outside is a whole new level of crowd. The people outside are much more than those inside. Imagine a picture of a well-attended open-air crusade; it’s exactly what the overflow gathering at Koinonia looks like.
While we were seated, waiting for the service to start, the gigantic LED screen was on, and sound checks and relevant information were on display. My curiosity would never permit me to just stay still. I knew I needed to see more of that place. I went outside, where the number of people kept increasing by the second. I noticed some persons in their hundreds assembled just by the entrance and prayed. Somebody was there to lead the prayer with a little sound system. It was an open gathering. Anyone could tag along and pray with them.
There were now too many movements outside such that two people could no longer walk side by side. It was that tight. At that point, I was convinced I didn’t want to see more since I could now barely see beyond the person before me. I went back inside.
When I got back inside, I traced the path that led to the main auditorium, where you had to go up the stairs. I followed it and it led me straight to the gallery.
Standing on the gallery, I got a good view of the altar and the musicians who were still warming up.
At exactly 5 PM, the service started. The LED screens in both the basement and outside displayed a man in a black suit leading worshippers in prayers. Everyone prayed. Not minding who was on the mic, they prayed. That place is a house of prayer, indeed.
When it was time for any session to start, a design would appear on the screens to show what was next, and they were always on time.
The worship team preceded the message. As the worship was being ministered, towards the completion of their time, the design for the message popped up and the reaction to it was not what I prepared for.
Every design came with an image of the anchor, or at least a representation. So this particular one had a picture of the Apostle on it and at its appearance, the crowd went wild. There was a very loud jubilating cheers. I sensed a shout of relief as if to mean ‘finally! This is who/what we’d been waiting for.
When he eventually came up, everywhere kicked to life. When he sang a song, everyone found their voice. When he raised a prayer, everyone channeled their inner Elijah. When he made a pronouncement, the shout of ‘Amen’ went through the roof.
The regular members understood the assignment — they all had their writing materials. When you attend a Koinonia service, there are always things to write. Your writing period is the entire length of the message.
That evening was their first service of the year and he preached from Luke 1:38.
I kept track of time because I wasn’t sure how to get back to Lugbe from there. It was getting very late.
At some point during the message, he said “Let’s hurry up.”
I was happy that we were soon going to be on our way. One hour later, we were not even near the end of the message.
So, after the message, he pronounced blessings on everyone. The altar call followed it. But as soon as the blessings were done with, Jessy signaled that it was time to leave.
On getting outside, it was rush hour at its finest. People were already on their way. Buses outside were filled to the brim. The road was almost in gridlock. A wandering child could get lost in that crowd. Yet, the Apostle was only just making the altar call meaning thousands more were still inside, and even outside.
Now, I imagine that process being repeated every week. The people. The arrangements. The planning. The provisions. Even the grace to bless that many people, my God!
The people on site are just a fraction of the online worshippers. If you put the numbers together per service, they run into hundreds of thousands. That number is beyond impressive. You just wonder how God has helped some persons attain this height in ministry.
So, there you have it: what a Sunday at Koinonia feels like.
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