We, Nigerians, are a very religious people. But most of us are not righteous. Otherwise, our lot would be better than its currently dastardly state. This is not a novel observation.
However, it has become a matter of note in light of the recent move by the Redeemed Christian Church of God (RCCG) to create a department of politics for the guidance of its members interested in politics.
The RCCG’s move has been construed to mean support for its most senior member in government at the moment, Yemi Osinbajo, Nigeria’s vice president, who is believed to be interested in running for president in the 2023 general elections.
The Pentecostal Fellowship of Nigeria (PFN) has also given its official stamp of approval, with one of its leaders averring that “it was only when the righteous and God-fearing people rule, that the masses will rejoice.”
Personally, I support the move. If there is anything that motivates the largely hypocritical Nigerian, it is religion. All religious groups should push their members to get permanent voters cards (PVCs) and contest elections. Perhaps then, those of us liberals, who do not want a theocracy, may finally be motivated to step into the political field and ensure our religious politicians limit their faith to their churches and mosques.
Incidentally, the RCCG move coincides with a repeatedly bad experience I am having with one of its members, a mischievous old woman who recently moved next door to my residence. Emblazoned on her front gate is the RCCG logo. And in her car is also the RCCG emblem.
There is the misconstrued expectation that in the organised chaos that Nigeria largely is, one so proud of the church would have a little bit of common sense and decency.
Far from it. In fact, most recently, this dark individual, let us call her Ms Arugboya (not her real name), chose a recent Sunday morning to deliberately park her car in front of my residence out of sheer provocation.
Thereafter, she comes out of her house, dressed in her best Sunday dress and walks the distance to the front of my gate to enter her car for the glorious journey to church. This is not reflective of the typical RCCG member, being as almost all of my Christian friends from my university days at Ladoke Akintola University of Technology Ogbomoso who found the “light” at RCCG live exemplary lives.
In fact, some later became pastors at RCCG and remain so to this day. So no, Ms Arugboya does not represent the typical RCCG member. And I do recall fondly my formative years at Our Lady Of Apostles Nursery & Primary School in the Niger Deltan city of Sapele, where during my stint, my siblings and I were the only Muslim students. I recall fondly, Mother Catherine, the head of the school at the time, who had a twinkle in her eye that for a nun made me think her somehow happier than her worldly contemporaries.
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As a Muslim, I do have intimate insights into the contradictions in Islamic organisations, especially in southwestern Nigeria, where incidentally RCCG had its beginnings. The women wing of a lot of Islamic organisations or mosques in southwestern Nigeria consists of members with largely Yoruba traditionalist leanings, some of which are antithetical to Islamic teachings.
Neophytes find to their utter horror, when they attempt to vie for any of the leadership positions in these organisations, that the hierarchies in their traditional cultural societies are mirrored in the mosques and Islamic organisations as well. And just as some pastors have been found to be debauched, one was found at the Lagos airport the other day with hard drugs en route a crusade in Nairobi, Kenya, so have imams.
In fact, I was told once that the imam of a major mosque in my hometown, Osogbo, was found to be a member of a secret traditional society only after his death when his real friends came to collect what they believed to be theirs. And a lot of the ritualists caught by the police in the southwest tend to be dressed in the Islamic way, are called “alfas”, a venerable term for Islamic clerics in southwestern Nigeria, but are anything but. The same has been the case for many so-called pastors.
Our current political villains do not hide their decadence. They do so shamelessly to everyone’s detriment, considering the poor state of our nation. They also do it with impunity. We would be in error therefore to have any expectations of righteousness from the religious ones who have suddenly discovered they might be the salvation we need. That said, religious Nigerians care about their religious image. So, they do fear being shamed.
For instance, Ms Arugboya would definitely worry about how she seems to her church members by her childish and churlish behaviour (I make sure to take very elaborate pictures of her crimes). If she doesn’t, her church would care that her mischief reflects badly on it. And to that extent, religious politicians could be relatively better. But I remain sceptical.
Our corrupt leaders pay tithe in church and zakat at mosques without being questioned about the source of their wealth. In fact, it is all too obvious most of the time that the wealth being “purified” is either ill-gotten or stolen from the public purse. But the clergy enable this malfeasance without the slightest compunction. We would be fools to think the incipient religiosity of our politics will better our lot.
