Song Review: No Turning Back II – A Dance Between Devotion and Discomfort.
Gaise Baba & Lawrence Oyor’s Joyful Track Sparks a Sobering Reflection on the Cost of Discipleship.
When I first heard No Turning Back II by Gaise Baba and Lawrence Oyor, I was instantly intrigued. Part of that attraction came from the nostalgic core of the track—an old Sunday School classic that many of us grew up singing: “I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back.” It’s a song that lives in the bones of many Nigerian Christians, a musical thread linking childhood faith with adult conviction. The version presented here, layered with afrobeat energy and spiritual fervor, is undeniably catchy and energizing.
But beyond the beat, I felt something deeper stir in me—a pause, a quiet discomfort that I couldn’t ignore.
I have a personal connection to Gaise Baba. We met back in 2008 during the Nokia First Chance television talent competition aired on Silverbird TV—and, if memory serves, even MNET at some point. I actually won that competition, though not much came out of it in the long run. Still, meeting Gaise left an impression. He’s always carried a steady, thoughtful energy—kind, focused, and quietly driven. Though we’ve not kept in touch since then, I’ve followed his journey from a distance. His artistry has remained grounded, expressive, and often bold in its spiritual undertones.
Lawrence Oyor came onto my radar more recently through his track Favour. That song had a different kind of pull—a mystic, worshipful intensity that made you stop and really listen. His music often feels like a portal into prayer, into the hunger and ache for deeper spiritual reality. So, the collaboration between him and Gaise Baba? That was enough to pique anyone’s curiosity.
No Turning Back II is, without doubt, a well-crafted song. The production is clean. The vibe is upbeat. It’s a danceable tune. You can picture it ringing out at youth events, church services, and Christian gatherings where people are hungry for something joyful to move to. On the surface, it seems to hit all the right notes.
But every time I hear it, my spirit hesitates.
There’s a quiet dissonance that lingers after the final note. Something about it feels too celebratory, too triumphant for the message it claims to carry. Following Jesus isn’t just a joyous celebration—it’s a costly commitment. The lyrics borrow from a hymn that was reportedly sung by persecuted Christians in India as they were led to execution. How then do we reconcile that story with bright lights, catchy beats, and smiling faces?
In a world where Christian music increasingly aligns with themes of favor, blessings, open doors, and wild success, I often find myself wondering: are we still singing the gospel of Christ, or a curated gospel of comfort?
When I think about Leah Sharibu—a young girl who refused to renounce Jesus and has been in captivity ever since—or the many displaced, persecuted believers across Nigeria and beyond, this song takes on a different weight. I imagine playing No Turning Back II in an IDP camp or for someone who lost family because of their faith. Would it resonate? Or would it ring hollow?
That’s not to say songs of joy are wrong. Far from it. There is joy in the gospel. There is dancing in the presence of God. But that joy must sit side by side with the reality of sacrifice. We cannot forget the cross in our pursuit of the crown.
The Christian journey is one of paradox. Victory through surrender. Life through death. Glory through suffering. And sometimes, our music should carry that tension—not resolve it, not cover it with beats—but let it sit there, uncomfortable and true.
No Turning Back II is not a bad song. In fact, it's powerful in many ways. But I believe songs like this raise an important question for Christian creatives: Are we telling the whole truth? Or are we shaping a version of faith that feels good but doesn’t prepare hearts for hardship?
As someone who’s walked the road of faith, stumbled, risen again, and watched others do the same, I long for music that celebrates without simplifying. That rejoices, yes, but also remembers the cost. Songs that dance toward the cross—not away from it.
So yes, I still play No Turning Back II. But I play it with my eyes open, my heart discerning. It’s a song of joy—but I pray we don’t let our joy blind us to the deeper road we’ve chosen.
Because following Jesus is not just a moment of decision. It is a lifelong surrender.