Feature/OPED
Nigerians and our Gods
By Prince Charles Dickson PhD
Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation, holds two remarkable distinctions: it has both the highest number of Muslims on the continent and the largest population of Christians as well.
Globally, Nigeria ranks among the top in both religions—boasting the sixth largest Christian population in the world and one of the largest concentrations of Muslims anywhere. By sheer numbers, Nigeria should represent a beacon of faith, morality, and godly example. Yet, the paradox remains: despite our crowded mosques and overflowing churches, our society is still riddled with corruption, injustice, insecurity, and a shocking contradiction between faith professed and life lived.
The Nigerian religious story is one of complexity—of gods old and new, of rituals that never quite disappear, and of a people who wear devotion on their lips but often defy it in their deeds. To speak of Nigerians and their gods is to enter the space where prayer meetings intersect with political thievery, where city streets turn into ghost towns on Fridays and Sundays, but where Monday mornings are marked by the hustle of swindling fellow citizens.
There is faith in numbers, decay in practice as by every measurable standard, Nigerians are religious. In almost every office, government meeting, and school gathering, prayers begin and end official functions. Even criminal gangs pray before embarking on their nefarious missions. We bless meals, recite scriptures, and fill radio waves with sermons. Mosques call the faithful five times daily; churches stretch services across the weekend with vigour.
But what has this avalanche of religiosity produced? Nigeria remains one of the most corrupt nations in the world. Governance is riddled with inflated contracts, missing billions, and leaders who mouth the name of God while looting public treasuries. A road project budgeted for billions of Naira is either abandoned or executed so poorly that it collapses within months. Who signs off these contracts? Who pockets the money? Are they not the same men and women who lead prayers, fund cathedrals, build mosques, and occupy front seats at religious ceremonies?
Here lies the great irony: our religiosity has not transformed our morality. In fact, it seems to have become a convenient mask—an outward cloak to conceal the rot within.
Christianity and Islam arrived in Nigeria centuries ago, bringing new texts, prophets, and doctrines. Yet, beneath the polished surfaces of imported faiths, older traditions remain alive. Nigerians still patronize voodoo priests, consult witch doctors, and invoke African magic in private moments of desperation. A politician may attend Sunday Mass in the morning and visit a shrine at midnight. An entrepreneur may recite Quranic verses but tie charms to his business doors.
This dual devotion—professed monotheism mixed with hidden polytheism—reveals a deeper struggle: Nigerians have not fully replaced their gods; they have simply expanded their pantheon. Faith in Allah or Christ often coexists with faith in ancestral spirits, diviners, and traditional sacrifices. In times of crisis, many revert to the old ways, seeking power or protection where modern religion and government have failed them.
Thus, religion in Nigeria becomes less a matter of deep conviction and more a utilitarian pursuit of survival, influence, or fortune. The gods, old or new, are reduced to instruments of power rather than anchors of virtue.
We suffer fanaticism and the burden of Extremes as despite the abundance of churches and mosques, freedom of religious belief remains fragile in Nigeria. From sectarian violence in the North to discriminatory practices in the South, religious tolerance is often preached but rarely practiced. Extremist groups, most notoriously Boko Haram, cloak their campaigns of terror in religious rhetoric, killing those who refuse to subscribe to their ideology.
Even within families and communities, interfaith marriages are frowned upon, and adherents of minority faiths face ostracism or persecution. Nigeria’s religious energy, rather than being harnessed for unity, often becomes combustible material for conflict.
We are left with a dangerous contradiction: a nation deeply religious, yet perpetually at war with itself in the name of religion.
Consider the everyday rituals of hypocrisy of Nigerian officialdom. A meeting begins with an opening prayer—sincere, perhaps, in tone—where God is invited to bless the deliberations. Discussions then follow, where decisions are taken to divert funds, inflate budgets, or marginalize certain groups. At the end, another prayer is offered, thanking God for “a successful meeting.”
In this ritual, God is both invoked and mocked. The prayer serves as a ceremonial cloak for systemic theft. Nigerian religiosity has perfected this cycle: sin boldly, pray loudly, repeat endlessly.
Our cities testify to this contradiction. On Fridays, streets empty as men and women flood mosques. On Sundays, roads are blocked by worshippers attending multiple services. Yet, by Monday morning, many of these same worshippers cannot wait to cheat their neighbour, manipulate figures, or exploit the system.
We profess to love God, but our love rarely extends to obeying His commands.
Here, the parable of the madman becomes instructive.
A wealthy man parks his expensive car, only to return and find that one of his tires is missing four bolts. Frustrated, he despairs until a madman suggests a simple solution: remove one bolt from each of the other three tires and use them to secure the fourth. Surprised by the brilliance of the idea, the man asks how someone “mad” could think so clearly. The madman replies: “I am mad, not stupid.”
This story is Nigeria’s mirror. We are a nation of wealthy resources, brilliant minds, and boundless faith. Yet, we often act foolishly, parading our religiosity without applying its wisdom. Like the rich man, we look helplessly at problems—corruption, bad roads, poverty, insecurity—while the solutions lie in plain sight. The madman’s lesson is that wisdom is not about appearance but application.
Nigeria’s religiosity is vast, but what we lack is the wisdom to apply the moral essence of our faiths. We build grand cathedrals and imposing mosques but fail to build integrity, justice, and love of neighbour. We perform rituals but neglect righteousness. We pray for prosperity but cheat our systems. We revere gods, but our gods—old and new—have not saved us because we have not lived their principles.
Yet, to be fair, not all Nigerians bow to this hypocrisy. Scattered across the nation are men and women who live by the tenets of their faith with integrity. The honest civil servant who resists bribes. The teacher who shows up every day in underfunded schools. The nurse who treats patients with dignity despite low pay. The entrepreneur who refuses to cheat his customers. The religious leader who preaches justice rather than prosperity.
These Nigerians—though often drowned in the noise of corruption and fanaticism—embody the hope of the nation. They prove that faith can indeed inspire virtue, that religion can transform society when applied with sincerity. They remind us that change will not come from prayers alone but from actions aligned with those prayers.
The problem, therefore, is not religion itself but the way Nigerians practice it. Our gods—whether Christ, Allah, or the spirits of our ancestors—are not to blame. The blame lies with us: we invoke their names without embodying their values. We exalt them in worship but abandon them in conduct.
If Nigeria is to rise from its contradictions, it must learn from the wisdom of the so-called madman: apply the principles already within reach. We must strip religion of its hypocrisy and return it to its essence—justice, mercy, love, and accountability.
A nation that prays at dawn but steals by noon cannot prosper. A people who fill mosques and churches but empty their institutions of integrity cannot progress. Nigerians must decide whether their gods are mere ornaments for ritual or guiding lights for life.
Until then, our religiosity will remain loud but hollow, plentiful but powerless. And like the man stranded by his car, we will continue to stare at problems, waiting for a madman to remind us that the solution has been in our hands all along—May Nigeria win!
By Louis Strydom
Last year, I argued in my piece Lean Carbon, Just Power that a limited and temporary increase in African carbon emissions is justified to meet the continent’s urgent electrification needs.
That position was not a retreat from climate ambition. It laid out a credible lean-carbon pathway that reconciles power systems development realities with climate arithmetic.
The central question remains: not whether emissions must fall, but how much temporary headroom is tolerable to accelerate energy prosperity for a continent responsible for roughly 4% of global CO2.
The flexibility equation
The future of Africa’s electrification is neither “all renewables tomorrow” nor “gas indefinitely”. Intermittent renewables alone cannot power the continent’s fragile grids at scale. Solar and wind require highly dispatchable power capacity to ensure the reliability of the system.
The real choice is not between renewables and fossil fuels in the abstract; it is between flexible firm power that complements solar and wind, and the de facto alternative: the increasing reliance on high-emissions diesel backup and widespread grid instability.
I argue that a realistic transition strategy must embrace “a capped carbon overdraft”: a strictly bounded, time-limited deployment of flexible power plants running on gas that supports the deployment of renewables and declines according to a binding schedule. This strategy means accepting minimal, temporary emissions to allow for a faster, cleaner and more resilient clean transition.
The response to this argument drew serious scrutiny. Three objections deserve a direct answer.
First: Does the case for flexible thermal power hold on a full life cycle basis?
It does. Our power system studies in Nigeria, Mozambique, and Southern Africa consistently reach the same conclusion – the least-cost long-term system is renewables-led, with flexible engines balancing variability. That holds across capital, fuel, maintenance, carbon pricing, and decommissioning. South Africa’s Integrated Resource Plan 2025, approved in October, makes the point concretely: it projects 105 GW of new capacity by 2039 with renewables as backbone, yet includes 6 GW of gas-to-power by 2030 explicitly for grid stability. Even the continent’s most industrialised economy concludes it needs dispatchable thermal capacity to underpin a renewables-heavy system. The question is not whether firm power is needed, but how to make it as clean and flexible as possible.
Second: Does this argument talk over Africa’s ambition to leapfrog fossil fuels?
No. It is designed around that ambition. Wärtsilä launched the world’s first large-scale 100% hydrogen-ready engine power plant concept in 2024, certified by TÜV SÜD, with orders opening in 2025. Ammonia engine tests now demonstrate up to 90% greenhouse gas reductions versus diesel. These are not roadmaps. They are ready-to-use technologies. The honest difficulty is timing. Sub-Saharan grids averaged 56 hours of monthly outages in 2024. The African diesel generator market is growing at nearly 7% a year, projected to reach 1.3 billion dollars by 2030. Nigerian businesses spend up to 40% of operational costs on fuel for backup power. That is the real counterfactual – not a continent neatly powered by sun and wind, but a billion-dollar diesel habit deepening every year the grid stays unreliable. Even Germany is tendering 10 GW of hydrogen-ready gas plants with mandated conversion by 2035 to 2040. If Europe’s largest economy needs transitional thermal flexibility to backstop an 80% renewables target, insisting low-income African nations skip that step is not climate leadership. It is development deferred.
Third: Does the carbon comparison include full life cycle methane?
It must. Methane leakage materially worsens the climate profile of gas-to-power because methane is a far more potent greenhouse gas than CO₂. If leakage exceeds a few per cent of production, gas loses its advantage over coal on a 20-year timeframe.
But the IEA notes that 40% of fossil methane emissions could be eliminated at no net cost with existing technology. My claim that gas has a lower footprint than coal is conditional on aggressive methane management – eliminating flaring and venting, enforcing measurement under frameworks like the EU Methane Regulation and OGMP 2.0. Without those conditions, the arithmetic fails. But the real choice in most African markets is not between pristine gas and pristine renewables. It is between ageing coal, a growing fleet of unregulated diesel generators, and new fuel-flexible plants that start or transition to gas and convert to hydrogen or ammonia on a contractual schedule. Displacing diesel and coal with well-managed gas in future-fuel-ready engines cuts CO₂, local pollution, and water use now, while building the infrastructure for fuels that eliminate fossil dependence.
The critics are right to demand rigour, full life cycle accounting, methane transparency, and credible timelines. Those are exactly the conditions that make a lean-carbon pathway work. Africa does not seek permission to pollute. It seeks the tools to end energy poverty while peaking emissions early and declining fast. Build engine power plants that run on available fuel today. Mandate their conversion tomorrow. The carbon overdraft stays small. The payback stays fast. And the technology to switch to sustainable fuels is already here.
Louis Strydom is the Director of Growth and Development for Africa and Europe at Wärtsilä Energy
You’re back home after mudik (homecoming), the suitcases are unpacked, and the excitement of being with family for Eid already feels like a long time ago. But just because Eid is over doesn’t mean the special connection of being with family has to fade. Here are the best group chat features for beating the post-Raya blues.
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Keep The Vibe Going by Sharing Ramadan Highlights
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Keep the Memories Rolling with Status: Your Status feed doesn’t have to go quiet just because you’re back home. Post the most memorable throwback photos from the Eid reunion and add questions to spark responses like “What was your favourite Raya dish?” Add music and stickers to Status to keep the energy alive.
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Express Yourself with Text Stickers: Turn inside jokes, family slogans, or a favourite Eid quote into a Text Sticker. It’s a quick, personalised way to add some warmth and humour to the group chat.
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Skip the Stock Cards, Use Meta AI for a Personal Touch: Don’t just send a generic “Hi” or “Good morning” in the family chat. Use Meta AI to make your personalised greeting card or quickly transform a single photo into an animated image to send a heartfelt, animated check-in.
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Schedule The Next Reunion
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Plan Your Next Post-Raya Get-Together: The blues often hit when the fun ends. Keep spirits up by creating a new Event in the group chat right away. Add event reminders so everyone doesn’t miss the opportunity to connect.
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Schedule a Call, Don’t Just Say “Call Me”: Carry on the family tradition of staying connected, even when you’re miles apart. Tap + then Schedule a call in the Calls tab to lock in a regular “Post-Raya Check-in” video call. Send a reminder so everyone can join on time.
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Keep the Raya Spirit Alive by Getting Everyone Involved
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Assign yourself a fun “tag” in the family group: Are you the one who always ends up cooking? Or the one who plans the itinerary for family trips? Or the master of GIFs who keeps everyone amused? Use the Member Tag feature in the group to give yourself a witty, funny, or practical role—”Next Event Planner” or “Tech Support Guru,” maybe?. Member tags can be customised for each group you’re in.
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Share a Spontaneous ‘I Miss You’ Video: Did you just see something that reminded you of the reunion? Press and hold the camera icon to record a spontaneous Video Notes message. It’s faster than typing and instantly brings warmth and real-time emotion back into the group.
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Digital Hugs: Making the Long-Distance Moment Count
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Share a Moving Memory: Don’t just send a still photo. Share a Live or Motion Photo to capture the ambient sound and movement of a recent Eid moment. It makes your memories feel more vivid, personal, and real—a perfect antidote to feeling disconnected.
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Your Group Chat Background: Create a vibe with Meta AI: Don’t settle for a plain background for your family group chat. Use Meta AI to generate unique, custom chat wallpapers that reflect something uniquely memorable to your family: be it food, travel or a sport that unites everyone. Every time you open the chat, you’ll feel the warmth, not the distance.
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Make Sure No One Misses Out
No More FOMO: Send the Conversation History: Just added a family member who couldn’t make it to mudik? When adding a new member, you can now send up to 100 recent messages with the Group Message History feature. No need to recap; let them catch up instantly and feel included from the first tap.
By Olumide Balogun
Nigerians are natural explorers. Whether finding the best supplier in Balogun market, hunting down a recipe for party jollof, or looking for the most affordable flight out of Lagos, we are always searching.
Today, human curiosity is expanding, and the way Nigerians express it is evolving. We are speaking to our phones, snapping photos of things we like, and asking incredibly complex questions. For the Nigerian business owner, understanding this shift is a massive opportunity to get discovered by eager customers.
Here are four ways AI is rewriting how Nigerians search, along with simple steps to ensure your business is exactly what they find.
1. Visual Discovery is the New Normal
People are increasingly using their cameras to discover the world around them. Picture someone spotting a brilliant pair of sneakers in traffic and wanting to know exactly where to buy them. Today, shoppers simply take out their phones and search visually.
Tools like Google Lens now process over 25 billion visual searches every single month, and many of these searches are from people looking to make a purchase.
How to adapt: Your product’s visual appeal is paramount. Make sure you upload clear, high-quality images of your products to your website and social media. When a customer snaps a picture of a bag that looks like the one you sell, having great photos ensures your business pops up in their visual search results.
2. Conversations Replace Simple Keywords
Shoppers are asking highly nuanced, conversational questions. They are typing queries like, “Where can I find affordable leather shoes in Ikeja that are open on Sundays and do home delivery?”
To handle these detailed questions, new features like AI Overviews act like a superfast librarian that has read everything on the web. It provides users with a perfectly organised summary and links to dig deeper.
How to adapt: Answer your customers’ questions before they even ask. Create detailed, helpful content on your website and fully update your Google Business Profile. List your opening hours, delivery areas, and unique services clearly. This ensures the technology easily finds your details and recommends your business when a customer asks a highly specific question.
3. Intent Matters More Than Exact Words
Predicting every single word a customer might use to find your product is a huge task for any business owner. Thankfully, modern search technology focuses on the underlying need behind a search.
If someone searches for “how to bring small dogs on flights,” AI understands that the person likely needs to buy an airline-approved pet carrier. The technology looks at the true intent of the shopper.
How to adapt: You no longer need to obsess over guessing exact keywords. By using AI-powered campaigns, you allow the technology to understand your products and match them to the customer’s true needs. Your business will show up for highly relevant searches, bringing you customers who are actively looking for solutions you provide.
4. Smart Assistants Handle the Heavy Lifting
Running a business in Nigeria requires incredible hustle. Managing digital marketing on top of daily operations takes significant time and energy. The next frontier in digital advertising introduces agentic capabilities, which hold a simple promise of delivering better results for your business with much less effort.
The technology now acts as your personalised assistant.
How to adapt: You can simplify your marketing by using the Power Pack of AI-driven campaigns, including Performance Max. You simply provide your business goals, your budget, and your creative assets like photos and videos. The AI automatically finds new, high-value customers across Google Search, YouTube, and the web. It adapts your ads in real time to match exactly what the shopper is looking for, allowing you to focus on running your business.
The language of curiosity is constantly expanding. Nigerians are discovering brands in entirely new ways using cameras, voice notes, and highly specific questions. By understanding these behaviours and embracing helpful AI tools, you can let the technology connect eager customers directly to your digital doorstep.
Olumide Balogun is a Director at Google West Africa
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