Somewhere in Delta State, a barber was doing what he does every day — cutting hair, making small talk, earning a living one head at a time. He had no idea that the man in his chair that day was about to alter the course of his life.
Daniel Omoyibo wasn’t a relative. Wasn’t a childhood friend. Wasn’t someone the barber had done a favor for and was now owed. He was just a customer — until, moved by something in that ordinary encounter, he handed the barber ₦5 million to start his own business.
No cameras were rolling when the decision was made. No one was clapping. It was just a man who had the capacity to bless, choosing to bless — in a barber’s shop, on an ordinary Tuesday.
That’s the part I want you to sit with. Not the ₦5 million. The ordinariness of the moment it happened in.
The Biblical Narrative
This is not a new story. It’s an old one, retold.
A man was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho when he was attacked, stripped, and left half-dead by the roadside. Two religious men — people who should have stopped — passed him by. Then a Samaritan came along. A stranger. Someone with no obligation, no relationship, no debt to repay.
He didn’t just glance and feel sorry. He got off his own donkey. He dressed the man’s wounds with his own oil and wine. He carried him to an inn, paid for his stay out of his own pocket, and told the innkeeper: whatever else this costs, I’ll settle it when I return (Luke 10:33-35).
That’s not charity. That’s disproportionate, inconvenient, uncalculated generosity — extended to someone the Samaritan would likely never see again, and who could never pay him back.
Jesus didn’t tell that story to make a point about kindness in general. He told it to answer a lawyer’s question: “Who is my neighbor?” And His answer, in essence, was: anyone God puts in front of you, in a moment you didn’t plan for.
The barber’s chair. The Jericho road. Different centuries, same principle — the kingdom of God moves through people who are willing to be interrupted.
The Practical Framework
Here’s what I want you to take from this — whether you’re the one with the ₦5 million or the one still waiting for your seed to be sown into:
1. Generosity is a decision, not a bank balance. You don’t need to be rich to be generous. You need to be willing. Daniel didn’t wait until he had ₦50 million to give ₦5 million. He gave from where he was, into where the barber wasn’t yet.
2. Every ordinary encounter is a potential divine appointment. You will not always know, in the moment, that the person across from you — the barber, the waiter, the driver, the junior colleague — is someone God has positioned you to change. Stop treating routine interactions as irrelevant. Some of your most kingdom-significant moments will not look significant while they’re happening.
3. Sow into people, not just into projects. It’s easier to give to a cause than to a face. But the gospel is deeply personal — it moves through relationship, through eye contact, through this one man, in this one chair, on this one day. Ask yourself: who is in front of me right now that I keep overlooking because they seem too ordinary to matter?
4. Bless without waiting for a return. The Samaritan didn’t know if he’d ever see that man again. Daniel didn’t need the barber to pay him back. That’s the test of true generosity — you can tell it’s from God when it isn’t secretly a loan.
The Prayer
Father, give me eyes to see the divine appointments hidden inside my ordinary days. Teach me not to wait for the “big moment” to be generous, but to sow wherever You place me — in a barber’s chair, a checkout line, a WhatsApp message. Make me the kind of person whose obedience changes someone else’s entire story. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
The Call to Action
Who is the “barber” in your life right now — someone ordinary, easy to overlook, that God may have positioned in front of you for a reason?
You don’t need ₦5 million to obey. You need availability.
If this stirred something in you about stewardship, purpose, and living generously as a leader, I’d love to keep unpacking it with you — drop a comment or reach out, and let’s keep walking in dominion together.
— Tommy Obatomi | Dominion Motivators
