Writing about religion can be a touchy subject, but it's too all-encompassing in
Nigeria to ignore. I’ll focus more on Christianity because it’s what I'm most
familiar with.
Religion and
National Identity
OK, so in Nigeria, there is no such thing as being an
atheist. You’re either a Christian or a Muslim. You may have back-slidded or are no longer active in the religion you were brought up in, but everyone
identifies with one faith or the other. When it’s time to marry you choose a
Church or Mosque, and when asked what religion you are (if it isn't obvious by
your name, appearance or tribe) you know which one of the two to answer.
Atheism is a Western construct born of contentment and too
much leisure time to contemplate unknowable things. But many Nigerians are
still trying to make ends meet and the belief in God consoles in the face of
hardship. Unbelief is an expensive luxury. Yet even the wealthy fully retain
their religious identity and take pride in contributing gifts to their church/mosque
and publically thank God for all their wealth (no matter how ill-gotten it is).
It doesn't occur to us to question if there is a God, because there’s hardly an
arena from which He is absent.
From the Senate to Aso Rock, Christian and Muslim prayers
are said every morning and politicians sprinkle their speeches with scripture. The
country’s first lady gave a public testimony in the Presidential Villa’s chapel
recently thanking God for keeping her alive through her illness, and the
President is often filmed in church services. He was once pictured kneeling in front of a prominent pastor who prayed for him.
President Goodluck Jonathan kneeling in front of Pastor Adeboye who is praying for him
The division between Church and State is both impossible and undesirable
and the lines are often blurred, with pastors running for President and church
ministers moonlighting as government ministers.
Religion also strongly permeates the workplace. I was
shocked to learn that you had to not only state your date of birth, country of
origin and marital status prominently on your CV, but your religion also. Coming
from the UK where such personal details are expressly banned so as to avoid
discrimination, it was alarming.
Companies have churches and mosques in their premises and Muslims
take time off to pray during the day. During Ramadan (the Muslim month of
fasting) last year, Nigeria’s (and the world’s) richest Black man Aliko Dangote
– a Muslim – donated bags of his company’s rice, sugar and spaghetti to all the
Muslims in my company. It’s normal to invite your boss to your church and have
lengthy, passionate discussions about spirituality with your colleagues.
Businesses have names like ‘Grace Abounding General Store’
or ‘God’s Favour Hairdressers’ and many vehicles
have religious inscriptions on them: ‘With God Nothing is Impossible,’ ‘My God
can Move Mountains.’ Religion is present at every birth, marriage and funeral,
and at an open air garden I visited where people gather to drink alcohol and watch
live entertainment on a stage, a group of dancers performed to popular Church
songs and the MC punctuated his announcements with religious phrases as freely
as if he was at the pulpit.
Religious phrases seep into daily conversations:
How’s work? Oh, we thank God.
Wow, you really wrote this great article? Yes, Glory to God.
Will you come tomorrow? Yes, by God’s Grace.
The Nigerian national football team pray together before and
after every match, football fans call radio stations imploring God to help the
teams they support, thank God when their team wins and consider how “God was
humbling the proud” when they lose.
In Nollywood and Kannywood movies, much of the storyline is
religion-centred and the credits always include variations of the phrase ‘To God be the
Glory’. Musicians talk about their faith on Twitter, comedians espouse on the
hilarities of religion in their acts and televangelists take over the airwaves every
Sunday, with lengthy Christian and Muslim sermons broadcasted during special national
events. In interviews, everyone from politicians to celebrities brim over with
praise to their God.
Religion isn’t a private hobby like in the UK, where the
former Prime Minister Tony Blair famously said ‘We don’t do God.’ Here God is
an ever-present reality and everyone knows Him personally.
Serving Two Masters
Yet I’ve never lived in a city where the pursuit of money is an obsession. Money not only guarantees you respect, better services and
dignity, it also opens doors that merit and excellence cannot. Money is king
and you’re nothing without it. This fresh, hot desire for wealth clashes with
the fervent Christianity in that the faithful are supposed to uphold higher
virtues like joy, peace, goodness, generosity and humility, yet all everyone
prays for is for more money.
Prosperity preachers are drawing millions of people (and
money) to their churches with promises that God will bless their congregation,
not with gifts or fruits of the spirit, but with more money, houses and cars.
One prominent preacher owns four private jets and a for-profit university that
most of his worshippers cannot afford, and a church I went to surprised the
Pastor with the gift of a brand new Jeep, and everyone walked out of the church
to gather around the car, taking pictures and praising God whilst the Pastor
joyfully prayed for the donors and encouraged everyone to have faith so that
theirs will come soon.
Pastor Oyedepo in one of his four Private Jets worth N4.5 billion ($30 million)
Instead of flaunting ostentatious wealth that’s out of step with
the majority of the country, aren’t Christians supposed to be spiritual and
content like Jesus was and be able to identify with the poor? But how can a
jet-owning, Gucci-wearing, Bahamas-holidaying, Lexus-driving ‘Man of God’
relate with a tomato-seller?
Except for special occasions, I’ve stopped going to church here.
The materialism was too much for me. Sure I strive to earn more and be more,
but I hate seeing the flagrant exaltation of money in the pulpit, where those
that pay tithes are venerated by the Pastor, and I don’t want to listen to a
sermon about ‘How to Succeed in Business’. There are business seminars for
that. I came to church to feed my spirit not bolster my pocket.
However, Pastors are only giving people what they want.
Everyone wants to be rich and hear that ‘This is your month of Increase.’ Then
there is the transactional nature of it all: If you sow seeds of cash you reap material
rewards, in effect, pay the pastor and God will pay you. As if God’s only gift to
a Christian is riches.
After all, what does it profit a man to gain the whole
world but lose his soul?
The Bible says that you cannot serve both God and Money, but in Nigeria every knee bows to both.
Witches, Charms
and all that Jazz
In Africa, God and his angels exist as much as the devil and
his demons. The belief in spirits and witchcraft has not being totally
eradicated by organised religion, and Juju or Jazz is real for Nigerian
Christians and Muslims. Even the churches have deliverance services for repentant
witches and hold prayers to break generational curses.
The influence and effects of dark arts is common knowledge and incidents of bewitchment and spells are spoken of as casually as discussions about the weather.
I've heard all kinds of stories from people and the media,
of live animals buried in front of shops to lure customers in; people engaging
in spells to close someone’s womb, win someone’s heart or kill a rival; children
and adults dismembered for ‘money rituals;’ a secret room housing a human head
that vomits an unending supply of money, and tribes were the dead walk
themselves to their graves.
One newspaper reported on an old couple who were left terrified one night when a naked woman fell from the ceiling unto their beds, despite the room and house been locked. The woman confessed to the police that she was a witch flying to India but got lost.
What am I to do with such stories, told by otherwise sane people? I know Lucifer and his angels are real enough, but he seems really busy in Nigeria. Witchcraft disappeared from England centuries ago, and it’s like the devil relocated to Africa, or just became more adept at subterfuge in advanced societies but takes off his disguise and runs free in Nigeria.
Religion as a
National Pacifier
I do think though, that religion weakens the resolve for
justice. A doctor breaks the leg of a newborn whilst pulling it out of the womb
carelessly, but the new parents and their relatives are against ruffling feathers
and say, “Thank God the baby is healthy, we’ll leave everything else in the
hands of God.” Why not sue or complain so that the incompetent medic is
prevented from causing further harm to other innocent babies, and so the
hospital can compensate the family for the extra medical bills? Preventable
misfortunes and accidents are accepted without complaint because ‘God is in
control’ and people remain passive, resigning themselves to poverty caused by governmental
ineptitude. ‘Suffering and smiling’ as Fela sings.
A church in Abuja, Nigeria
That Nigerians topped an international poll as the happiest people on earth is both laudable and sad, because most don’t have a lot to smile about, but the comfort and resolve they get from God fortifies them and keeps their disposition cheerful.
If the famous sociologist Karl Marx was right and religion is the opium of the people, then Nigerians are high on their addiction, much to the satisfaction of the ruling elite. The collective national crutch that is religion quells revolution, maintains the status quo, and keeps everyone’s mind on personal advancement. Money is the answer to every prayer.
Nigeria is a country where God reigns, but it is the
Almighty Naira that rules.
