Between the Pulpit and the Gun, by Lanre Ogundipe

Nigeria is one of the most religious nations on earth. Mosques invite the faithful to prayer. Churches fill auditoriums, stadiums and vast places of prayer. Religious language permeates politics, education, commerce, and daily life. Faith influences both public conduct and private choices.

Yet, amidst this extraordinary religiosity lies a worrying paradox: one of Africa’s most religious societies continues to struggle against insecurity, extremism, intolerance, social fragmentation and the exploitation of vulnerable populations.

This contradiction requires honest reflection.

The problem is not religion itself. Religion remains a source of moral guidance, charity, community support and personal transformation for millions of Nigerians. The more difficult question is whether we have adequately distinguished between religious freedom and religious responsibility.

Announcement

A democratic society must protect every citizen’s right to freedom of religion. Freedom of conscience and religion are fundamental constitutional guarantees. However, no freedom exists in complete isolation from public accountability. Every freedom carries obligations to protect the rights, safety and well-being of others.

—History provides sobering lessons—

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, Mohammed Marwa, popularly known as Maitatsine, emerged as a charismatic preacher whose influence spread rapidly among the disaffected populations of northern Nigeria. What initially appeared to be an eccentric religious movement eventually exploded into one of the deadliest episodes of sectarian violence in post-independence Nigeria. Thousands of people lost their lives and entire communities were destabilized before the state responded decisively.

Years later, another preacher, Mohammed Yusuf, founded what many initially perceived as a religious and educational movement in Borno state. The movement attracted followers frustrated by poverty, corruption, unemployment and social exclusion. It quickly evolved into Boko Haram, an insurgency that has consumed countless lives, displaced millions, and inflicted immeasurable suffering on the nation.

Neither Maitatsine nor Boko Haram emerged overnight. Every insurrection begins as an idea before becoming an army. Every extremist movement begins with words before reaching weapons. Long before the shot comes the sermon; long before the bomb hit the doctrine. Nations that fail to understand this progress often discover the danger only after the pulpit has given way to weapons.

The lesson is neither anti-Islamic nor anti-Christian. It’s a warning that extremism rarely arrives fully formed. It often grows silently through uncontrolled narratives, charismatic authority, social grievances, and institutional neglect.

—The challenge beyond extremism—

Today, throughout Nigeria, religious activity occupies a vast public space with varying degrees of responsibility. Thousands of worship centers emerge every year. New pastors, prophets, evangelists and imams appear regularly. Many provide real spiritual guidance and social services. Others exploit ignorance, manipulate emotions, spread conspiracy theories and enrich themselves thanks to the vulnerability of their followers.

This reality raises legitimate questions about oversight, accountability, and public accountability.

Religious schools present another dimension to the debate. Faith-based education has historically contributed significantly to literacy, moral formation, and nation-building. However, concerns remain about standards, children’s well-being, the quality of curricula and the potential misuse of educational spaces for ideological indoctrination. The goal should not be to suppress religious education but to ensure that the institutions in which children are entrusted meet minimum standards consistent with constitutional values ​​and public safety.

Another issue that deserves a mature discussion is noise pollution. Tensions continue to grow in many Nigerian communities due to excessive amplification coming from places of worship. The right to worship is fundamental. The same goes for citizens’ right to rest, study, sleep and enjoy their environment. A civil society must be able to balance both rights without falling into hostility or intolerance.

Equally worrying is the growing prevalence of inflammatory sermons. Throughout history, violence has often been preceded by rhetoric. Sermons that demonize other faiths, ridicule opposing beliefs, or encourage hostility weaken national cohesion and create fertile ground for conflict. Freedom of expression should never become a shield against incitement.

Then there is the political question. Religion and politics have become deeply intertwined in Nigeria. Politicians routinely seek religious support, while some clerics increasingly function as political actors. In some cases, legitimate policing of public conduct is portrayed as an attack on faith itself. This convergence undermines both democratic accountability and religious integrity.

—Regulate conduct, not faith—

The challenge Nigeria faces is therefore not how to regulate religion. The government has no business determining doctrine, interpreting scripture, or licensing salvation. A secular democracy cannot regulate belief.

What government can and should regulate are the public consequences of conduct where they intersect with safety, education, child welfare, environmental standards, financial crimes and incitement to violence. Religious freedom must remain inviolable, but cannot become a sanctuary of impunity.

Nigeria’s future stability may depend on recognizing this distinction.

The shadows of Maitatsine and Boko Haram continue to remind us that difficult conversations postponed often turn into national crises. Faith remains one of Nigeria’s greatest assets. However, like any powerful social force, it must operate within a framework of responsibility, accountability and respect for the common good.

The debate is no longer whether religious freedom should be protected. It has to be.

The more pressing question is whether religious freedom can continue to thrive sustainably without corresponding accountability.

This is a conversation Nigeria can no longer postpone.

● Lanre Ogundipe, public affairs analyst, former president of Nigeria and African Union of Journalists, writes from Abuja.

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