Last week I was at the Garki area, specifically at the Kiss FM 99.9, to supervise one of my students on SIWES at the radio station. I arrived while a call-in program was on air with discussions and contributions coming in as I took a seat in the studio. The discussion was centered around politics and religion, with the visits of some religious leaders to the presidency and endorsement of the Tinubu and Kashim Shettima’s administration for the 2027 general elections in the country. This program got hot at some point, and I smiled as I followed. In the end, we exchanged pleasantry and did the introduction because the anchor of that program, Mr. Felix, happened to be my student’s organization supervisor. While discussing the program, I told him that every political leader is a religious leader, and I explained. He concurred and also suggested I come up someday for his program live, which I will someday.
While I left the station, I also arrived at Gwani Street to see one of my students on an industrial assignment. While I was waiting in that office, I listened to conversations amongst staff of that organization still hitting on politics and religion. This time they were looking at the insecurity situations in Nigeria and the government and its agencies’ inability to deal with the situation and bring it to an end. I smiled and nodded as if agreeing with one of the staff’s views when he pointed at the failure of the Tinubu administration and the lack of commitment on the part of the Nigerian military to end the terror conflicts of Boko Haram in the Northeast, banditry in the Northwest, and kidnapping and other crimes across other parts of the country.
He then turns to me and seeks my opinion after learning I was a lecturer with one of the universities. He asked a specific question and needed a straight answer as to how I think the insecurity in the country can come to an end. I simply said, “To end insecurity, kill religion in Nigerian politics.” This statement hits them like a bomb. One asked if I am serious. I smile, look at him straight in the eyes, and ask what he thinks. I told them I am seeing the prophecy of Malam Aminu Kano in 1956 when he cautions about the day politicians and religious leaders will come to the table in agreement and the outcome he foresaw of the common man. I told them what I earlier told the anchorman at Kiss Radio—that every political leader is a religious leader. And every word coming from such a leader makes or destroys.
The conversation went on, and I told them that the pervasive issue of insecurity in Nigeria has become a constant source of national anxiety, prompting widespread calls for decisive action from the government and military. My point is that, while the populace is quick to attribute the persistent state of insecurity to the perceived failures of these institutions, a deeper examination reveals a more complex web of underlying factors that hinder effective resolution. Among these, the pervasive influence of religion, often exploited or manipulated, stands out as a potent catalyst and impediment to lasting peace in Nigeria.
My observation is that it is a common refrain in Nigerian discourse to point fingers at the government and the military for the nation’s security woes. From banditry in the North to farmer-herder conflicts in the Middle Belt and secessionist agitations in the South, the blame is often laid at the feet of ineffective governance and a poorly equipped or corrupt security apparatus. While these institutions undoubtedly bear responsibility for maintaining law and order, this singular focus often overshadows the intricate socio-religious dynamics that fuel and sustain these conflicts. The narrative of government failure, while partly true, serves as a convenient shield, deflecting attention from the deeply entrenched communal grievances and the ways in which religious identity is weaponized.
I see religion in Nigeria as not merely a private belief system; it is a powerful social and political force that permeates nearly every aspect of life. Unfortunately, this influence is often exploited to sow division and incite violence. Extremist interpretations of religious doctrines, propagated by unscrupulous individuals or groups, have fostered an us-versus-them mentality, dehumanizing those of differing faiths and justifying aggression. The proliferation of religious militias and other influences of religion often exacerbates the cycle of violence, blurring the lines between self-defense and offensive action. For example, the farmer-herder crisis is frequently framed in religious terms, pitting predominantly Christian farmers against Muslim herders, thereby obscuring the underlying issues of land scarcity, resource competition, and historical grievances. This religious framing simplifies complex socio-economic problems into an intractable faith-based conflict, making genuine reconciliation immensely difficult.
In fact, the influence of religious leaders in Nigeria is immense, and their pronouncements carry significant weight within their communities. While many religious leaders advocate for peace and tolerance, a segment actively or passively contributes to insecurity. This can manifest through the dissemination of inflammatory rhetoric, the justification of violence in the name of faith, or the refusal to condemn acts of brutality committed by adherents of their religion. In some cases, religious institutions themselves become centers of power and influence that are unwilling to cede ground or engage in interfaith dialogue, further entrenching divisions. The inability of many religious communities to engage in critical self-reflection regarding their role in perpetuating conflict is a major impediment to peace. When religious doctrines are interpreted in ways that promote exclusivity and intolerance, the seeds of insecurity are sown.
It is crucial to acknowledge that religion is not the sole driver of insecurity in Nigeria. Poverty, unemployment, corruption, ethnic tensions, and the proliferation of small arms all play significant roles. However, religion often acts as an accelerant, transforming these underlying vulnerabilities into active conflicts. For example, economic hardship can be more easily exploited by religious demagogues who promise divine retribution against perceived enemies or offer spiritual solace that justifies violent action. Similarly, ethnic rivalries are often overlaid with religious differences, creating a potent and combustible mix. Therefore, any strategy aimed at ending insecurity must acknowledge and actively dismantle the ways in which religion is manipulated to exacerbate these other societal ills.
The brief discussion turns to a lecture series. Given my take on this, I concluded that while the Nigerian government and military remain central to any security strategy, their efforts will continue to fall short if the deeply ingrained religious dimensions of insecurity are not addressed. The tendency to solely blame external authorities obscures the internal societal dynamics that fuel conflict. Until Nigerians, particularly religious leaders and communities, engage in a profound and honest reckoning with how religious narratives and identities are being used to perpetuate violence, lasting peace will remain an elusive dream. Acknowledging and actively dismantling the manipulative use of religion, fostering genuine interfaith dialogue, and promoting critical engagement with religious texts are vital steps toward breaking the cycle of insecurity that has plagued Nigeria for too long. Only by confronting these “underlying difficulties” can Nigeria hope to achieve lasting stability.
We can learn from the ten most peaceful countries in the world: Iceland, New Zealand, Switzerland, Slovenia, Ireland, Austria, Portugal, Singapore, Finland and Japan. In these countries, there is a great divide between politics, government and religion. Kill religion in government and in politics and Nigeria will end insecurity.
Bwala, PhD, writes from Abuja
