Beyond the Street by Marvellous Ayodeji Adekola

Chapter One: Marked for Death 

The night was thick with danger. The streets of Lagos whispered with the sounds of tires screeching, hushed voices making deals, and the occasional wail of sirens that never seemed to come close enough.
Dare adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit alley behind New Haven Club, his gang’s usual spot. He wasn’t just any street hustler, he was the boss, the one who made the calls, the one nobody dared to cross.
But tonight felt different.
Something cold wrapped around his chest, a feeling he had never known. Fear? No. Unease? Maybe. It was as if invisible eyes were watching him, following his every move.
“Boss, we go soon make am. The money don set,” his right-hand man, Femi, grinned as he pocketed his phone. “This deal to change everything.”
Dare smirked. He had spent years climbing the ranks, making money, breaking rules, and outsmarting everyone. There was no turning back now.
A frail voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Young man, you carry the mark of death.”
Dare’s head snapped to the side. An old preacher dressed in a worn-out white robe stood at the edge of the alley. His frail hands gripped a wooden staff, his milky-white eyes staring into Dare’s soul. Blind, yet seeing everything.
Baba Leke.
The street preacher had been around for as long as Dare could remember. Always warning, always praying, always talking about a God Dare had no time for.
“Abeg, carry your wahala commot,” Femi sneered.
But Baba Leke didn’t move. Instead, his voice grew firm.
“You chase the riches of this world, but you do not know that the grave waits for you. Tonight, they will come for your blood.”
Dare scoffed. “Old man, go and sleep. No one dares a lion.”
Baba Leke shook his head. “There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.”
The verse hit Dare like a bullet to the chest. He glanced at Femi, expecting him to laugh it off, but his friend’s face was suddenly unreadable.
Then, Baba Leke lifted his staff and traced an invisible mark in the air. "Your life was bought with a price," he whispered. "But will you accept it before it is too late?"
Something about the way he said it sent a chill down Dare’s spine. But he shook it off. Fear was for the weak. “Let’s go,” he muttered to Femi.
As they walked away, Dare could still hear Baba Leke’s voice, now softer, almost pleading.
"You are marked. But who will claim you first, the darkness, or the light?"
A gust of wind howled through the alley.
The night was just appearing.
And Dare didn’t know that before the sun would rise, his life would never be the same again.

Chapter Two: The Last Betrayal

The night deepened. Dare and Femi strode down the backstreet leading to an abandoned warehouse by the docks. The deal was set to happen there, one final job that should change everything.
Dare’s fingers twitched. That old man’s words wouldn’t leave him.
"You are marked… but who will claim you first?"
He forced a smirk and shoved the thought aside. This was business. Money. Power. Survival. Not religion.
They reached the warehouse, a massive structure of rusting metal and broken windows. A single bulb flickered above the entrance, casting eerie shadows.
 Inside, Three men stood waiting. Tolu, Stone, and Scorpion.
Hard men. Ruthless. The kind who didn’t blink before pulling a trigger.
Dare nodded at them. “We good?” Stone, a bulky man with scars lining his arms, grinned. “We good. The money dey.” He gestured toward a black duffel bag on the table.
Femi stepped forward first, reaching for the zip. Dare watched his movements closely. His best friend was acting... strange. Then everything exploded into chaos.
Femi’s hand shot out, grabbing Dare’s wrist in a vice grip. At the same time, Stone and Scorpion pulled guns from their belts, pointing them directly at him.
Dare’s pulse spiked.
A setup. His own brother had betrayed him. For a split second, his mind flashed back to Baba Leke’s warning. "Tonight, they will come for your blood."
Stone sneered. “Dare, you be boss for too long. Time to step down.”
Femi’s grip tightened. His voice was low. “No, vex, boss. Na business.”
Business?
Dare’s vision blurred with rage. The man he had trusted with his life had sold him out.
But he wasn’t going down without a fight. In a single, fluid motion, Dare spun, elbowing Femi hard in the ribs. He kicked the table, sending the duffel bag flying. The warehouse erupted in gunfire.
Bullets whizzed past his ears, sparks flying off the metal walls. He dodged left, grabbing a rusted pipe from the ground.
A shot rang out too close. Pain ripped through his side.
Dare gasped. He was attacked. His legs gave way, and he collapsed against a stack of crates, blood seeping through his jacket. Stone approached slowly, gun raised. “You were a legend.”
Dare clenched his teeth.
Somewhere in the distance, a voice whispered.
"Call upon Me… and you shall live."
Dare’s strength failed him. And then everything went black.

Read: Silence by Funmilayo Jayne Tonade

Chapter Three: A Stranger’s Touch

Darkness.
It was thick and endless, pulling Dare under like an ocean with no bottom. He could feel himself slipping, the pain in his side growing distant, like in a dream.
"So this is death?"
He had always imagined it differently, louder, messier, more violent. But here he was, floating between nothingness and something he couldn’t name.
Then, a voice. Soft. Strong. Calling him back.
"Live."
Air rushed into his lungs and Dare’s body jerked.
Pain. That was the first thing Dare felt. Sharp, burning, and real. His body ached like it had been crushed under a trailer. His head throbbed, and his side, The bullet!
His eyes flew open. He wasn’t in the warehouse anymore.
The ceiling above him was low and wooden, with a single naked bulb casting a dim yellow light. A rough mattress pressed against his back.
This wasn’t a hospital. So where was he?
Then she saw her beside her.
She wrung the cloth, then pressed it gently to his forehead. "You’re safe."
That didn’t answer his question. He scanned the small room.
This was someone’s house. "Who are you?" he croaked.
The woman tilted her head slightly, studying him. Then she said, "Hannah."
Dare licked his lips, trying to think. The last thing he remembered...
Femi. The gun. Betrayal. Blood.
His breathing quickened. "How did I get here?"
Hannah dipped the cloth again. "The cross traced you."
He tried to sit up, but pain shot through his ribs, forcing a groan from his lips.
" Grace found you" she continued, pressing the cool cloth to his forehead. "Devil could have ended you with just a bullet"
For the first time in years, Dare didn’t know what to do. He had always been in control, leading the gang, making the deals, calling the shots.
Now? He was weak. Wounded.
And under the care of a woman who had no reason to help him.
His mind reeled. Why are you dodging my questions?
Because the one who saved you is all knowingly and you can ask him yourself.
His brows furrowed. "who?"
She met his gaze, her dark eyes calm but filled with something deeper.
"The One who is calling you."
Dare’s chest tightened.
He had heard this before. Preachers on the street. Baba Leke. And now this woman?
He shook his head. "You don’t know me."
A small smile touched her lips. "I don't need to."
She stood up, walking toward a small wooden shelf filled with worn-out books and a single candle. She picked one up and brought it to him.
A Bible.
"Seriously?" You people never rest," he muttered.
Hannah chuckled. "You sound like someone familiar with this."
Dare turned his head away. "My mother used to talk about God. Before she died."
Hannah sat back down. "And what do you believe?"
Dare snorted. "That people like me don’t get second chances."
Hannah didn't flinch. Instead, she flipped the Bible open and handed it to him.
"Read."
His eyes fell on 2 Peter 1;4.
"Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust."
He frowned. "And this means?"
"It means you don’t have to stay who you are," Hannah said. "You can escape the death that almost killed you."
Dare let out a dry laugh. "And what, become a pastor?"
Hannah shook her head. "No. Just… let God in. Let Him change you."
Dare closed the Bible and handed it back. "Thanks, but I think I’m past saving."
Hannah took the book but didn’t look disappointed. She looked… certain.
"You’re still breathing," she said. "That means God hasn’t given up on you yet."
Dare didn’t reply.
But deep inside, something shifted.
He didn’t know if it was her words or the fact that, against all odds, he was still alive.
Either way, one thing was clear, this wasn’t over yet.
Someone paid for your life, Dare," she whispered.
He swallowed hard. Why was his chest so tight? Why did he suddenly feel like something inside him was breaking?
"Rest now," Hannah said, standing up. "Tomorrow, we talk."
Dare watched as she stepped out of the room, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts.

Chapter Four: The Choice Before Him

Dare lay awake long after Hannah left the room.
The dull hum of the ceiling fan mixed with the occasional sounds of the street outside distant honking, voices, the familiar rhythm of the city that never truly slept.
But inside this small, quiet room, everything felt... different.
His mind kept circling back to her words.
"You don’t have to stay who you are."
He hated how much those words unsettled him.
Because who was he without the street?
For years, he had lived by one rule—survive.
Survive the hunger.
Survive the betrayals.
Survive the choices that had turned him into the man he was.
And now?
He ran a hand over his face, his fingers brushing against the bandage on his side. The pain was real. The bullet had been real.
He could have died tonight.
Should have died.
Yet here he was.
Why?
He sat up slowly, wincing as pain shot through his ribs. The small room swayed for a moment before steadying.
His eyes landed on the Bible Hannah had left on the bedside table.
A part of him wanted to push it away. Another part… felt drawn to it.
Dare had never been one for church. God wasn’t for people like him.
People like him did what they had to do to survive.
Yet, something about tonight, about Hannah, about waking up in a stranger’s home instead of a morgue made him question everything.
He picked up the Bible. The pages felt thin beneath his fingertips. His eyes drifted to the verse Hannah had pointed out earlier.
"…that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust." (2 Peter 1:4)
A scoff left his lips. Escape?
From what? His past?
A soft knock sounded on the door. Before he could answer, Hannah stepped in, holding a steaming cup.
"Tea," she said simply, setting it on the table beside him.
Dare raised a brow. "Why are you taking care of me?"
Hannah shrugged. "You’re still healing. And I am doing as I am told"
She pulled up a chair and sat, watching him. Not judging, not forcing anything, just watching.
Dare shifted under her gaze.
"What do you want?" he asked, voice quieter than he intended.
A small smile played on her lips. "I just want you to see that there’s more."
"More to what?"
"To life. To who you are. To who you can be."
Dare scoffed. "I know who I am, Hannah. I’m a street guy. That’s all I know."
"Is it?" she challenged.
He opened his mouth to respond, but for the first time, he didn’t know what to say.
Silence stretched between them.
Then Hannah spoke again. "Dare, have you ever asked yourself why you’re still alive?"
His jaw tightened. "I don’t believe in second chances."
Hannah leaned forward slightly. "Then believe in Miracles." Believe someone can turn your life into a miracle just like he made you live after a bullet.
Dare’s fingers twitched around the Bible. He wanted to believe that was possible. That he could be more than what he had become.
But what if it was too late?
Hannah stood, giving him one last look before heading to the door.
"Think about it," she said softly.
Then she was gone.
Dare stared at the Bible in his hands.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he was running toward something or away from it.

Read: How to Manage Your Finances as a Believer

Chapter Five: A New Battle Begins

Dare barely slept that night.
Hannah’s words echoed in his mind, stirring something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Conviction.
He had spent years numbing himself, drowning out thoughts of right and wrong. Survival didn’t give room for conscience.
But tonight, lying in a stranger’s home, spared from death, he couldn’t ignore it.
Maybe Hannah was right. Maybe this was a second chance.
But what did that even mean for someone like him?
Morning came faster than he expected. The soft clatter of dishes and the scent of fried yam filled the air.
He groaned, forcing himself to sit up. His body protested, but the pain had dulled slightly.
The small house looked different in daylight warmer, almost peaceful.
It had been years since Dare had woken up in a home that felt like this.
Not just four walls, but a place where hope lived.
Hannah soon walked in, holding a plate.
"Good morning," she greeted.
Dare rubbed his face. "Morning."
She set the plate on a small table beside him. "You need to eat."
He glanced at the food but didn’t touch it. Instead, his eyes flickered to the Bible still beside his bed.
Hannah followed his gaze. "Still thinking about what I said?"
Dare sighed. "I don’t know, Hannah. This—" he gestured vaguely around him—"is not me."
She nodded, as if she understood. "It doesn’t have to be."
Dare frowned. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
Hannah pulled out a chair and sat. "You keep saying this life is all you know. But have you ever thought that maybe you were meant for more?"
He scoffed. "What, like some great destiny?"
"Like grace," she said simply.
Dare tensed.
Grace. That word again.
He had heard it before. Back when his mother was alive, back when she prayed for him every night.
"God, let him find Your grace."
He never understood it.
But sitting here, staring at a woman who should have left him for dead, he started to wonder.
"What if I don’t deserve it?" he muttered.
Hannah smiled. "None of us do. That’s why it’s grace."
Dare swallowed hard.
Something inside him cracked—a wall he had built over the years, keeping him from feeling, from believing.
Hannah reached for the Bible and flipped it open, then placed it in front of him.
"At that day you shall know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you." (John 14:20)
Dare stared at the verse.
Hannah’s voice was gentle but firm. " That's the more to you. God isn’t waiting for you to fix yourself before He accepts you. He wants you as you are. Broken, Wounded, Lost Because in Him, you become whole."
Dare clenched his fists.
Could it be that simple?
Could a man like him, a man with blood on his hands, regrets in his heart, and sin weighing him down, really belong to God?
Hannah watched him carefully. "Dare, the streets don’t have to own you anymore."
His breath caught.
The streets.
The life he had built, the name he had made for himself, was it all just a cage?
Suddenly, he felt tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of carrying the weight of his past.
Tired of being Dare, the feared gang leader.
For the first time, he just wanted to be Dare, the man God could save.
And for the first time…
He wanted to believe it was possible.
Dare sat still, staring at the Bible in front of him.
The words blurred as emotions he had long buried threatened to rise.
Broken. Wounded. Lost.
That was him.
And yet, here was Hannah, telling him that he could still belong to God? That despite everything, he could be part of something greater?
He wanted to believe it.
But how could God want someone like him?
Hannah stood, watching him. She wasn’t pressuring, wasn’t forcing. Just waiting.
Waiting for him to choose.
And in that moment, something inside him gave way.
A sob caught in his throat, unexpected, raw, real. He clenched his fists, his shoulders shaking as the weight of his past bore down on him.
"I don’t know how," he whispered.
Hannah knelt beside him. "You don’t have to. Just talk to Him."
Dare shut his eyes.
For years, he had silenced his heart. Now, for the first time, he let it speak.
"God… if You can hear me… if You want me… I’m here."
The room felt different.
Lighter.
Like a burden had lifted.
Hannah smiled. "Welcome home, Dare."

Chapter Six: The Streets Still Call

Dare sat by the window, his eyes scanning the street below.
Nothing had changed, yet everything felt different.
Vendors still called out their wares, the scent of roasted plantain and fried akara lingering in the humid evening air. Kids, barefoot and carefree, darted between parked cars, laughing as they chased a worn-out football. The sound of blaring horns and the occasional shouting match between impatient drivers created the familiar symphony of street life.
But something inside Dare had shifted.
For years, these streets had been his home, his battleground. Every alley held a memory, every corner a story, some he wanted to forget, others he could never escape.
"The streets don’t let go so easily."
He had grown up hearing that. Once you’re in, you’re in. The only way out was either prison or death.
And yet, somehow, he was here. Alive. Free.
A soft knock at the door broke his thoughts.
"Dare?"
It was Hannah.
"You good?" she asked, stepping in.
He shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "Trying to be."
Hannah studied him for a moment before sitting down on the chair across from him. "What’s on your mind?"
Dare exhaled. "Everything."
She didn’t push, didn’t demand answers. She just waited.
And for some reason, that made him want to speak.
"Everyone I know is either locked up, dead or still out there running the streets," he said, rubbing his palms together. "Me? I’m sitting in a quiet house reading a Bible. It doesn’t feel real."
Hannah nodded, as if she understood. "Change feels strange at first."
Dare scoffed. "Strange? More like impossible." He hesitated before adding, "What if I mess this up?"
"You will," she said without hesitation.
He frowned.
She chuckled. "Dare, no one gets it perfect. That’s why we need grace every day."
That word again. Grace.
He ran a hand over his face. "I don’t know if I can do this, Hannah. I mean… I know what you’re saying is right, but it’s not that easy."
"You don’t have to do it alone."
He nodded slowly, but deep down, he wasn’t sure the streets were done with him.
And he was right.
Because later that night, they came looking for him.
The night was quiet.
Dare lay on the small mattress staring at the ceiling. Sleep felt like a distant dream. His mind wouldn’t let him rest. He remembered the bible verse he had read earlier.
"Having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust…” (2 Peter 1:4)
Escaped.
Had he?
Then, the knock came.
Not just any knock, a pattern.
Three quick taps. A pause. Two more.
Dare shot up, his pulse hammering in his chest.
Only one person knocked like that.
Timi.
He swung his legs off the bed, his heart pounding.
How did Timi know where to find him?
Hannah.
No, Hannah would never.
Then it hit him.
Earlier that day, he had stepped out for air. Just for a moment. He had walked two streets down and bought roasted corn from an old woman at the junction.
That was all it took.
They had traced him.
The streets never forget their own.
The knock came again, more urgent.
"Dare, I know you’re in there."
He swallowed hard, his mind racing.
If Hannah woke up, she’d try to stop him. She wouldn’t understand.
Slowly, he stood, moving toward the door. His past was waiting on the other side.
He hesitated just for a second then unlocked it.
Timi stepped inside without an invitation.
Dare shut the door behind him, his fingers twitching.
Timi’s eyes swept the room small, neat, nothing like the chaos of their old world. His gaze landed on the Bible on the nightstand, and his jaw tightened.
"You’ve been hiding," he said, his tone unreadable.
Dare exhaled. "I’ve been… figuring things out."
Timi smirked. "Figuring things out?
I was betrayed. Things got out of hand.
Timi’s face hardened. "Bro, when have things ever not been out of hand?" He let out a dry chuckle. "That’s the life, Dare. You know that, and as a legend, you are alive to tell it, but don't think you can just walk away? After everything we built?"
Guilt stabbed at Dare. He should have called Timi.
But is he not supposed to leave the past behind?
Timi stepped closer. "You’re my brother, Dare. I have fought for you, I killed Stone"
Dare gasped
 He gestured around. "This shouldn't be you."
Dare forced himself to hold Timi’s gaze. " This is who Christ made me"
Timi chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You preaching now?
Dare swallowed hard. "Timi, I...
"We need you!" Timi’s voice cut through the room.
Dare looked down.
Timi took a deep breath, then spoke, quieter this time.
"You left me out there, Dare."
Dare clenched his jaw. Timi wasn’t just an old friend, he was the one who had saved him countless times.
Dare owed him.
"You think you’re better than us now?" Timi asked.
Dare’s head snapped up. "It’s not like that."
Timi scoffed. "Then prove it. One last job."
Dare felt the room spin.
"One last job, Dare," Timi said again, his tone softer. Dangerous. "Then you can do whatever you want. But you owe me this."
Silence.
Dare’s fists clenched.
He had to choose.
Go back… or walk away forever.

Chapter Seven: The Crossroads

The room felt smaller than it was.
Dare exhaled. "Timi, I can’t go back."
Timi’s jaw tightened. "And why’s that?"
Dare hesitated. How could he explain it? That something had changed in him? That for the first time, he wanted more than just surviving?
But Timi wasn’t the type to understand vague answers. He needed something real.
So Dare spoke the truth.
"I met Jesus."
Timi’s eyes narrowed. "Few days have turned to a preacher?"
"Yeah. This is my testimony of Grace. Jesus used a woman to help me out when I had nowhere to go."
Timi smirked. "So, that’s what this is about? A woman?"
Dare shook his head. "No. It’s not like that. She introduced me to he who gave me life.
Timi frowned. "And that’s enough for you to just drop everything?"
Dare swallowed. "I didn’t drop everything, Timi. I just… I finally start living and see things clearly"
Timi studied him for a long moment. "This Jesus is what?"
Dare hesitated, then said it. "God."
Silence.
Timi’s face didn’t change immediately, but there was a shift in his posture. He ran a hand over his chin, staring at Dare like he was trying to figure out if he was joking.
"God?" Timi repeated.
Dare nodded.
Timi scoffed, shaking his head. "Man, I thought you were about to tell me something serious. We both heard this and joked about it"
Dare’s chest tightened. "It is now real to me."
Timi let out a bitter chuckle. "You? Talking about God? Bro, have you forgotten we did things, things that church people would run from? And now, what? You are now reading the bible? Praying?
That is a life changer.
Timi’s laughter faded. He looked around again, then back at Dare. "You think that changes anything? You think it makes you different?"
Dare met his gaze. "I don’t just think it. I know it."
Timi scoffed again, but there was something else in his eyes now, doubt.
Dare stepped closer. "Look, I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m not even saying I have it all figured out. But I know I can’t keep living like I was before. And Timi… neither can you."
Timi’s face hardened. "You don’t know that."
Dare shook his head. "Yeah, I do. I know you. I know the nights you can’t sleep. The nightmare, the guilt that follows you. The weight of everything we’ve done."
Timi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.
Dare exhaled. "There’s a way out, man. I didn’t think so either, but there is."
Timi looked away, his fists clenching. "I don’t know, Dare. I just… don’t know."
Dare placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don’t have to. Just take the first step."
Timi’s breathing was uneven, his mind clearly at war.
Then, finally—
"I’ll think about it," he muttered.
Dare nodded. "Don't only think, allow him"
And for the first time, Timi didn’t look like the man Dare had always known. He looked lost.
But maybe, just maybe—he was finally ready to be found.
Timi sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers locked together tightly. His eyes were unfocused, lost in a place Dare recognized all too well—the past.
Dare sat across from him, silent. Some battles had to be fought internally.
"I remember the first time I held a gun," Timi finally said, his voice quiet. "I was fifteen. It felt… powerful. Like I finally had control over something in my life." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I was a fool."
Dare leaned back. "We both were."
Timi let out a bitter chuckle. "Remember when we jumped that guy near the old train station? He begged us to let him go. We laughed."
Dare swallowed hard. He remembered. He wished he didn’t.
Timi’s voice grew distant. "And the girls… the drinking… the things we did, Dare. That wasn’t just a bad phase.’ That was who we were."
Dare nodded slowly. "Yeah. But that’s not who we are anymore."
Timi looked up at him, something raw in his eyes. "And just like that, we get to move on? Just because we decided to ‘find God’?"
Dare sighed. "No, his Grace found us. It cost him everything to pull us out. Someone had to pay for all we did." He paused. "And Jesus did."
Timi clenched his jaw, looking away. "I don’t deserve that."
Dare’s lips twitched in a half-smile. "Neither do I."
Timi let out a breath, rubbing his palms together. "I don’t know, man. I’ve done things—things I can’t take back. What can I do?"
Dare smiled slightly. "You think I haven’t? But I am not living in that anymore. You can also escape the corruption of this world and belong to Christ now."
Timi looked up. "Now?"
Dare’s eyes softened. "Now is the time, you have a portion ."
Timi sighed, his expression serious again. "Okay," he said slowly. "If this is real… if I get a fresh start… what do I do?"
Dare leaned forward. All you have to do is believe that Jesus died for you and save you from sin.
And? Timi asked unbelievably
That's enough to make you His.
Timi bends his head remorseful and whispers a prayer, "Jesus, I believe you. Save me and make me yours"
Congratulations Timi. Dare happily said.
Silence stretched between them.
Timi blinked. What now?
"We walk in it. We live differently. We let go of the old life, not just the crime, but the mindset, the lust, the anger, the emptiness. We don’t belong to the streets anymore, bro. We belong to Him."
Timi swallowed hard. "And if I mess up?"
"You will," Dare said simply. "But grace isn’t about being perfect, it’s about being new. And now people don’t walk the same way they used to."
Timi sat with that for a moment. Then he nodded, happily.
"I feel lighter," he said.
Dare smiled. Let us pray
The past was still there. It hadn’t disappeared. But Grace had rewritten the ending.
They weren’t who they used to be. As they join hands to pray,  a quiet peace settled over them.
They were no longer prisoners of their past.
They were partakers of His grace.
And this was just the beginning.
They were partakers of His grace—escaping the corruption of the world and stepping into a new life.
And this was just the promise.

THE END.
Written by Marvellous Adekola

2025.