By Emmanuel Thomas l Tuesday, August 18, 2026
ABUJA – SHE WAS once the wild child of African cinema—a glamorous screen siren whose tempestuous personal life and fiery outbursts kept millions of film fans spellbound across the globe.
Now, former Nollywood megastar Tonto Dikeh has swapped movie sets for the pulpit, launching a plush £150,000 (₦300 million) prayer ministry in Nigeria’s capital, Abuja. But her dramatic transformation into “Evangelist Tonto” has provoked an almighty row among the nation’s religious elite.
Dikeh, 40, unveiled the high-tech New Wine Prophetic Tabernacle (NWPT) in the exclusive Jabi district, billing it as a global movement for prayer, revival, and spiritual deliverance. The move follows a tearful public confession late last year where she claimed divine intervention cured her of a 27-year addiction to heavy smoking and alcohol.
Taking to the stage in front of hundreds of eager worshippers, the actress-turned-politician declared she was stepping into her ultimate calling.
However, her swift rise from troubled A-lister to spiritual leader has sparked fierce backlash from traditional clergymen, who accuse her of turning Christianity into a celebrity circus.
Leading the charge is Pastor Andrew Emajere of City of God’s Grace Assembly Ministries, who fumes that religion is not being taken seriously anymore. In a scathing attack, the furious pastor questioned how Dikeh could go from a recent convert to a fully fledged spiritual leader almost overnight.
”What does Tonto Dikeh know in the spiritual world that convinced her to open a prayer ministry?” Pastor Emajere blasted. “She built a church worth 300 million—how did we arrive here?”
The fiery preacher went further, claiming that if he ever ran the country, he would force wannabe pastors to undergo strict vetting before being allowed to set up a place of worship.
”Which day did she repent in Pastor Jerry Eze’s church that she is already a General Overseer?” Emajere fumed. “Christianity has now turned into something else. A woman that has not handled her kitchen duties finish, you went ahead to put them in Christianity—why won’t confusion come in?”
Despite the fierce criticism, Dikeh’s loyal legion of supporters insist her story is the ultimate tale of redemption.
For a woman who spent decades in the harsh glare of the public spotlight battling personal demons, her followers argue that her new ministry offers hope to those struggling on the fringes.
As the doors of her lavish new tabernacle swing open, one thing is certain: Tonto Dikeh is still drawing the crowds—whether they come to pray or to protest.
