I have always believed that faith should make us better human beings. It should teach us compassion, discipline, humility and respect for the lives of others. But I have also come to understand that when religion is taken to the extreme, it can become a dangerous instrument in the hands of those who know how to manipulate people’s deepest convictions.
And that is where my concern begins.
Let me make one thing clear: I am not against religion. I am not against Christianity, Islam, traditional African religion or anyone’s right to practise their faith. I am, however, deeply concerned about religious extremism and the damage it does to society, to genuine faith and to our political choices.
My concern is not what you believe. My concern is what you are willing to do to another human being because of what you believe.
That is a question we must all be willing to confront, regardless of our religious background.
WHEN RELIGION STOPS UNITING US
Nigeria is a country where religion occupies a significant place in everyday life. We pray before meetings, during political campaigns, at weddings, in our homes and even before football matches. On Sundays, churches are filled with worshippers. On Fridays, mosques welcome the faithful. Many of us begin and end our day by calling on God.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with that.
In fact, religious institutions provide education, healthcare, humanitarian assistance and emotional support to millions of Nigerians. Many religious leaders have spoken against corruption, helped vulnerable communities and promoted peace across religious divides.
But if religion teaches us to love our neighbours, why do we sometimes struggle to see the humanity in people who worship differently?
Why should the religion of the person next door determine whether we trust them, employ them, vote for them or consider them worthy of protection?
And why should a disagreement over faith become a reason to threaten, attack or kill another human being?
These are not attacks on religion. They are questions about how we practise it.
NIGERIA: THE HUMAN COST OF EXTREMISM
We cannot have an honest conversation about religious extremism without acknowledging the devastating experience of Nigerians who have suffered violence in the name of religion.
The Boko Haram insurgency has killed and displaced countless people in the North-East. Churches have been attacked. Mosques have been bombed. Muslim clerics who oppose extremist ideology have also been murdered. Christian communities have suffered devastating attacks, and Muslim communities have endured killings, abductions and intimidation by the same extremist groups.
The 2014 abduction of 276 schoolgirls from Chibok, most of them Christian, remains one of the clearest examples of how extremist ideology can destroy lives and deny children their future.
The abduction of Leah Sharibu in 2018, after she was reportedly singled out because she refused to renounce her Christian faith, remains another painful reminder of the human cost of religious coercion.
But a balanced conversation must also acknowledge that Muslims have been among the victims of Boko Haram and the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP). These groups have attacked mosques and killed Muslims who reject their ideology or refuse to submit to their demands.
This is important because we must distinguish between an extremist group and the wider religious community it claims to represent.
A terrorist does not become a representative of every Muslim because he invokes Islam. Equally, a Christian who commits violence does not become a representative of every Christian because he invokes the Bible.
We must condemn the crime without condemning millions of innocent people who share the perpetrator’s religion.
At the same time, we must not use the need for balance as an excuse to deny the particular suffering of any community. Where Christians are deliberately targeted, say so. Where Muslims are deliberately targeted, say so. Where the evidence points to criminality, land disputes, ethnic hostility or political manipulation, investigate those factors honestly too.
The victims deserve the truth, not a competition over whose suffering matters more.
WHAT ABOUT CHRISTIANITY?
Because conversations about extremism in Nigeria often focus on Islamist militant groups, some people may feel that other religious communities are being unfairly scrutinised or that Christianity is being placed under suspicion. I understand that concern.
But if we are serious about the subject, we must be willing to examine every community, including our own.
Christianity teaches love, forgiveness, humility and the dignity of human life. Yet individuals can still invoke Christian language to justify intolerance, threaten people who disagree with them or portray those outside their religious circle as enemies.
Beyond Nigeria, the Lord’s Resistance Army in Uganda, led by Joseph Kony, used religious claims and spiritual authority in a violent campaign involving massacres, abductions and the recruitment of children. Its ideology and motivations were complex, and it would be inaccurate to treat its conduct as representative of Christianity. Nevertheless, its history demonstrates how religious language can be used to legitimise brutality.
Closer to home, we must also challenge mob violence, threats and intimidation against people accused of blasphemy or of offending religious sensibilities, including when perpetrators claim to be defending Christianity.
A person’s faith does not give them the right to take the law into their own hands.
If someone commits an offence, the law should take its course. If someone expresses an opinion we dislike, the answer cannot automatically be threats or violence.
The same standard must apply whether the person accused is Christian, Muslim, a traditional religion practitioner or someone who does not subscribe to any religion.
Defending Christianity should not mean defending every action committed by someone who calls themselves a Christian. Sometimes, protecting the integrity of a faith requires speaking out against those who misuse its name.
AND ISLAM?
Islam deserves the same fair treatment.
The overwhelming majority of Muslims are not terrorists, and it is both inaccurate and dangerous to suggest otherwise. Muslim communities are diverse, and many Islamic scholars and organisations have condemned terrorism and worked to counter extremist ideology.
Yet groups such as Boko Haram and ISWAP have attempted to impose their interpretation of religion through terror, coercion and violence.
Their victims include Christians, Muslims, traditional believers and people whose only offence is refusing to accept their authority.
That contradiction matters.
If a movement claims to defend Islam but kills innocent Muslims, attacks worshippers and abducts children, we must be willing to examine the gap between its claims and its conduct.
Criticising an extremist interpretation is not the same as attacking an entire religion. We must be able to make that distinction without fear or prejudice.
The same principle applies to every other faith.
THIS IS NOT ONLY A CHRISTIAN OR MUSLIM PROBLEM
Religious extremism is not exclusive to Nigeria, nor is it limited to Christianity and Islam.
In India, Hindu nationalist movements and rhetoric have been associated with hostility and violence against Muslims and other minorities.
Human Rights Watch’s 2026 reporting raised concerns about the vilification of religious minorities and abuses affecting Muslims and other vulnerable groups. That is a warning about what can happen when religious identity becomes entangled with political power and unequal citizenship.
In Myanmar, Buddhist nationalist movements have promoted anti-Muslim hostility, while the Rohingya Muslim population has endured severe persecution, displacement and other grave abuses. The United Nations has documented how discrimination, exclusion and hate speech have contributed to violence against the Rohingya and other minorities.
These examples do not mean Hinduism or Buddhism is inherently violent. Both traditions contain rich teachings and communities committed to compassion, peace and human dignity. The point is that no religious identity automatically makes a person or movement immune to extremism.
The same caution applies to Judaism. Jewish identity and Judaism must not be equated with the actions of violent Jewish extremists or with every decision of the Israeli government. Where individuals use religious claims to justify attacks on civilians, collective punishment or the denial of another community’s rights, those actions deserve scrutiny on their own merits.
The principle is simple: no religion should be collectively blamed for the actions of extremists, and no extremist should be protected from accountability because of the religion they claim to defend.
Extremism has no single religious address. It can emerge wherever identity becomes a justification for domination and the lives of others are treated as less valuable.
WHEN RELIGION ENTERS POLITICS
This is where the conversation becomes even more important for Nigeria.
Religion and politics are powerful forces on their own. When they are combined irresponsibly, they can become instruments of division.
We have seen how the religious identity of presidential candidates can dominate political conversations, sometimes overshadowing their competence, policies, integrity and capacity to govern. The debate over religious balancing in political tickets reflects genuine concerns about representation and inclusion. But it can also become a tool for politicians who want to mobilise voters through fear rather than a serious examination of public policy.
A candidate can be a Christian and still be corrupt. A candidate can be a Muslim and still be incompetent. A person can quote scripture or religious teachings and still fail the people they were elected to serve.
Religious identity is not a certificate of good leadership.
Imagine a politician who fails to provide clean water, decent roads, quality education or adequate security, but returns to his community and tells the people that supporting him is a religious duty.
Imagine a political campaign that portrays a candidate from another faith as a threat to the survival of an entire religious community, without allowing voters to examine the candidate’s actual record.
Imagine citizens defending a leader’s failures simply because that leader worships in their church or mosque.
Who benefits from such politics?
Certainly not the ordinary Nigerian who is struggling to pay rent, feed a family, find employment or travel safely.
When political loyalty becomes religious loyalty, accountability suffers. Politicians learn that they do not necessarily need to perform; they only need to convince their supporters that the other side is more dangerous.
That is how religion can become a political shield.
And it is why we must insist that leadership be judged by character, competence, public service and measurable results.
A politician’s faith should never place them above scrutiny.
THE DANGER TO GENUINE FAITH
There is another side to this conversation that I believe deserves more attention.
Religious extremism does not only hurt its victims. It can also damage the credibility of the faith it claims to protect.
When people repeatedly see religion associated with violence, intolerance, manipulation or the abuse of power, some begin to question the value of religion itself.
A young person who sees a religious leader encourage hatred may begin to wonder whether the faith they were taught to respect truly stands for the values it preaches.
A family that loses a loved one to religious violence may struggle to understand how anyone could justify such cruelty in the name of God.
And someone who is forced to follow a belief under threat may eventually associate religion with fear rather than conviction.
That is the tragedy.
Faith should not need violence to prove its strength. Truth should not need intimidation to defend itself. And a genuinely spiritual life should not depend on humiliating people who believe differently.
For Christians, the Bible speaks of the fruit of the Spirit as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control in Galatians 5:22–23.
For Muslims, the values of mercy, justice and compassion are central to Islamic teaching.
Other religious traditions also contain teachings on compassion, restraint and the treatment of fellow human beings.
People may interpret these teachings differently, but no serious discussion of religion should ignore the moral responsibility that comes with professing faith.
We cannot keep celebrating religion when it gives us comfort and excuse its misuse when it produces suffering.
LET US ALSO BE HONEST ABOUT THE CAUSES
While religious extremism must be confronted, we must be careful not to reduce every conflict in Nigeria to religion.
Some violence is driven by criminality, competition over land and natural resources, ethnic tensions, political grievances, poverty, weak institutions or the absence of justice. In some cases, several of these factors overlap.
In parts of the Middle Belt, for example, deadly clashes involving predominantly Christian farming communities and predominantly Muslim herding communities have often acquired religious and ethnic dimensions. But analysts have also identified land disputes, insecurity, resource competition and failures of accountability as important factors. The details differ from one incident to another, and each case deserves a proper investigation.
This distinction matters because a wrong diagnosis can produce the wrong solution.
If a criminal attack is treated only as a religious conflict, the actual perpetrators may escape justice while innocent communities become targets of retaliation.
If religious persecution is dismissed as ordinary criminality when the evidence demonstrates deliberate targeting because of faith, victims are denied recognition and protection.
We must be able to hold both truths at once: religiously motivated violence exists, and not every act of violence involving people of different religions is primarily religious.
That is not an attempt to sit on the fence. It is a commitment to telling the truth.
WHAT SHOULD WE DO?
First, religious leaders must speak consistently against extremism, even when it comes from their own communities. Condemning violence only when another group commits it is not moral leadership; it is selective outrage.
Second, political leaders must stop using religion to divide citizens for electoral advantage. Nigerians should be free to vote according to their conscience, assess candidates critically and demand accountability without being told that their political choice is a betrayal of God.
Third, government must protect freedom of religion and belief while ensuring that crimes are investigated and prosecuted fairly. No individual or group should enjoy immunity because of religious influence, political connections or public popularity.
Fourth, we must teach our children that disagreement does not make another person an enemy. A Christian child should be able to have a Muslim friend without suspicion. A Muslim child should be able to attend school with Christian classmates without being taught to hate them.
People who practise traditional African religions,
and those who practise no religion, deserve the same dignity and protection.
Finally, we must examine ourselves.
It is easy to condemn extremism when it comes from another religion. It is much harder when the person responsible attends our church, worships in our mosque, shares our political affiliation or belongs to our community.
But that is where our principles are truly tested.
Will we condemn wrongdoing consistently, or will we make excuses because the perpetrator is one of our own?
Will we defend justice even when it is uncomfortable, or will we defend our identity at the expense of another person’s humanity?
WHAT IS BAD IS BAD
I do not believe that criticising religious extremism amounts to an attack on religion. Nor do I believe that protecting religion requires us to turn a blind eye to the people who misuse it.
If a Christian commits a crime in the name of Christianity, the crime should be condemned.
If a Muslim commits a crime in the name of Islam, the crime should be condemned.
If someone invokes traditional religion to threaten or harm another person, that conduct should be condemned.
And if a politician uses religion to manipulate citizens, inflame tensions or escape accountability, that behaviour should also be challenged.
The standard cannot change simply because the person involved belongs to our community.
What is bad is bad. What is wrong is wrong. And wrongdoing does not become acceptable because it comes wrapped in religion, politics or a familiar identity.
I will not defend something simply because it happens in my constituency, among my people or within a community I belong to. If we genuinely believe in justice, then justice must apply to everyone.
Nigeria does not need Christians who hate Muslims, Muslims who hate Christians or political leaders who benefit from keeping both sides suspicious of each other.
We need citizens who can disagree without dehumanising one another. We need religious leaders who inspire faith without promoting hatred. And we need politicians who understand that their responsibility is to serve every Nigerian, not just those who share their beliefs.
At the end of the day, the question is not whether you pray in a church, a mosque or somewhere else. The question is whether your convictions allow you to recognise the dignity of someone who believes differently.
Because if our religion makes us incapable of respecting another person’s humanity, then perhaps the first thing we need to examine is not the religion of the other person, but the way we have chosen to practise our own.
Faith should give us a reason to serve humanity, not a reason to hate it.