The retirement of the duo of Bishop David Abioye and Bishop Thomas Aremu came to many as a shock. But the unequivocal moral of this story is as clear as daylight: Build your own empire! Do not squander the prime of your life laboring in the vineyards of another, for you and your progeny shall inherit nothing from the sweat of your brow that was expended on another’s field.
“No man can serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24), and indeed, no man can claim ownership over a kingdom he did not establish.
To build your own enterprise is to secure your legacy, to guarantee that you will not be cast aside in your prime like a relic, condemned to wander like a disembodied ghost, forgotten and irrelevant.
Can anyone point to a single Bishop who left the Living Faith fold and remained a towering figure in relevance? None comes to mind, not even one.
Take the late Bishop Mike Afolabi—his exit was followed by an eerie silence. He passed away in obscurity, uncelebrated, his contributions evaporating into the ether. Where is Pastor Abraham Ojeme, after all his years of service to Living Faith?
He vanished into the anonymity of old age, fleeing to London in his twilight years. His life’s work seems to have led to a lamentable obscurity. After decades of toil, even with a wife who endured long years in a wheelchair, what remains? A shadow of his former self, now adrift in London, doing only God knows what.
And now we await the fate of Abioye and Aremu. Can these men, who have sacrificed the vigor of their youth in building another’s legacy, now pivot and construct their own? The odds are long, the sands of time have shifted. One must ask: will they build anything of substance, or has their energy been irreversibly drained?
The example of Abioye should be a cautionary tale to anyone with eyes to see—even Oyedepo’s son, Isaac, has been wise enough to chart his own path. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). Isaac has clearly recognized that he is not the chosen heir, and has made the astute decision to start his own ministry while he still has the strength to do so. That, my friend, is the brilliance of the highest order.
There can be no doubt that these retired bishops harbour a quiet regret, a gnawing realization that they should have taken the plunge earlier, just like their younger contemporaries—look at the Ibiyeomes, the Eneches, the Sam Adeyemis—men who seized their destinies and now wield vast power and wealth.
Even the smaller names—Poju Oyemade, Oluyibo, Olumide Emmanuel—who started more recently, are now flourishing, standing tall in the fullness of their vision.
Those who failed to strike out on their own are left to ponder in their hearts: *What might have been?*