Connect with us

Feature/OPED

Nigerians and our Gods

Published

on

islam christianity nigeria

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!

Advertisement
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Feature/OPED

Why the Future of PR Depends on Healthier Client–Agency Partnerships

Published

on

Moliehi Molekoa Future of PR

By Moliehi Molekoa

The start of a new year often brings optimism, new strategies, and renewed ambition. However, for the public relations and reputation management industry, the past year ended not only with optimism but also with hard-earned clarity.

2025 was more than a challenging year. It was a reckoning and a stress test for operating models, procurement practices, and, most importantly, the foundation of client–agency partnerships. For the C-suite, this is not solely an agency issue.

The year revealed a more fundamental challenge: a partnership problem that, if left unaddressed, can easily erode the very reputations, trust, and resilience agencies are hired to protect. What has emerged is not disillusionment, but the need for a clearer understanding of where established ways of working no longer reflect the reality they are meant to support.

The uncomfortable truth we keep avoiding

Public relations agencies are businesses, not cost centres or expandable resources. They are not informal extensions of internal teams, lacking the protection, stability, or benefits those teams receive. They are businesses.

Yet, across markets, agencies are often expected to operate under conditions that would raise immediate concerns in any boardroom:

  • Unclear and constantly shifting scope

  • Short-term contracts paired with long-term expectations

  • Sixty-, ninety-, even 120-day payment terms

  • Procurement-led pricing pressure divorced from delivery realities

  • Pitch processes that consume months of senior talent time, often with no feedback, timelines, or accountability

If these conditions would concern you within your own organisation, they should also concern you regarding the partner responsible for your reputation.

Growth on paper, pressure in practice

On the surface, the industry appears healthy. Global market valuations continue to rise. Demand for reputation management, stakeholder engagement, crisis preparedness, and strategic counsel has never been higher.

However, beneath this top-line growth lies the uncomfortable reality: fewer than half of agencies expect meaningful profit growth, even as workloads increase and expectations rise.

This disconnect is significant. It indicates an industry being asked to deliver more across additional platforms, at greater speed, with deeper insight, and with higher risk exposure, all while absorbing increased commercial uncertainty.

For African agencies in particular, this pressure is intensified by factors such as volatile currencies, rising talent costs, fragile data infrastructure, and procurement models adopted from economies with fundamentally different conditions. This is not a complaint. It is reality.

This pressure is not one-sided. Many clients face constraints ranging from procurement mandates and short-term cost controls to internal capacity gaps, which increasingly shift responsibility outward. But pressure transfer is not the same as partnership, and left unmanaged, it creates long-term risk for both parties.

The pitching problem no one wants to own

Agencies are not anti-competition. Pitches sharpen thinking and drive excellence. What agencies increasingly challenge is how pitching is done.

Across markets, agencies participate in dozens of pitches each year, with success rates well below 20%. Senior leaders frequently invest unpaid hours, often with limited information, tight timelines, and evaluation criteria that prioritise cost over value.

And then, too often, dead silence, no feedback, no communication about delays, and a lack of decency in providing detailed feedback on the decision drivers.

In any other supplier relationship, this would not meet basic governance standards. In a profession built on intellectual capital, it suggests that expertise is undervalued.

This is also where independent pitch consultants become increasingly important and valuable if clients choose this route to help facilitate their pitch process. Their role in the process is not to advocate for agencies but to act as neutral custodians of fairness, realism, and governance. When used well, they help clients align ambition with timelines, scope, and budget, and ensure transparency and feedback that ultimately lead to better decision-making.

“More for less” is not a strategy

A particularly damaging expectation is the belief that agencies can sustainably deliver enterprise-level outcomes on limited budgets, often while dedicating nearly full-time senior resources. This is not efficiency. It is misalignment.

No executive would expect a business unit to thrive while under-resourced, overexposed, and cash-constrained. Yet agencies are often required to operate under these conditions while remaining accountable for outcomes that affect market confidence, stakeholder trust, and brand equity.

Here is a friendly reminder: reputation management is not a commodity. It is risk management.

It is value creation. It also requires investment that matches its significance.

A necessary reset

As leadership teams plan for growth, resilience, and relevance, there is both an opportunity and a responsibility to reset how agency partnerships are structured.

That reset looks like:

  • Contracts that balance flexibility and sustainability

  • Payment terms that reflect mutual dependency

  • Pitch processes that respect time, talent, and transparency for all parties

  • Scopes that align ambition with available budgets

  • Relationships based on professional parity rather than power imbalance

This reset also requires discipline on the agency side – clearer articulation of value, sharper scoping, and greater transparency about how senior expertise is deployed. Partnership is not protectionism; it is mutual accountability.

The Leadership Question That Matters

The question for the C-suite is quite simple:

If your agency mirrored your internal standards of governance, fairness, and accountability, would you still be comfortable with how the relationship is structured?

If the answer is no, then change is not only necessary but also strategic. Because strong brands are built on strong partnerships. Strong partnerships endure only when both sides are recognised, respected, and resourced as businesses in their own right.

The agencies that succeed and the brands that truly thrive will be those that recognise this early and act deliberately.

Moliehi Molekoa is the Managing Director of Magna Carta Reputation Management Consultants and PRISA Board Member

Continue Reading

Feature/OPED

Directing the Dual Workforce in the Age of AI Agents

Published

on

Linda Saunders Trusted AI

By Linda Saunders

We will be the last generation to work with all-human workforces. This is not a provocative soundbite but a statement of fact, one that signals a fundamental shift in how organisations operate and what leadership now demands. The challenge facing today’s leaders is not simply adopting new technology but architecting an entirely new operating model where humans and autonomous AI agents work in concert.

According to Salesforce 2025 CEO research, 99% of CEOs say they are prepared to integrate digital labor into their business, yet only 51% feel fully prepared to do so. This gap between awareness and readiness reveals the central tension of this moment: we recognise the transformation ahead but lack established frameworks for navigating it. The question is no longer whether AI agents will reshape work, but whether leaders can develop the new capabilities required to direct this dual workforce effectively.

The scale of change is already visible in the data. According to the latest CIO trends, AI implementation has surged 282% year over year, jumping from 11% to 42% of organisations deploying AI at scale. Meanwhile, the IDC estimates that digital labour will generate a global economic impact of $13 trillion by 2030, with their research suggesting that agentic AI tools could enhance productivity by taking on the equivalent of almost 23% of a full-time employee’s weekly workload.

With the majority of CEOs acknowledging that digital labor will transform their company structure entirely, and that implementing agents is critical for competing in today’s economic climate, the reality is that transformation is not coming, it’s already here, and it requires a fundamental change to the way we approach leadership.

The Director of the Dual Workforce

Traditional management models, built on hierarchies of human workers executing tasks under supervision, were designed for a different era. What is needed now might be called the Director of the dual workforce, a leader whose mandate is not to execute every task but to architect and oversee effective collaboration between human teams and autonomous digital labor. This role is governed by five core principles that define how AI agents should be structured, deployed and optimised within organisations.

Structure forms the foundation. Just as organisational charts define human roles and reporting lines, leaders must design clear frameworks for AI agents, defining their scope, establishing mandates and setting boundaries for their operation. This is particularly challenging given that the average enterprise uses 897 applications, only 29% of which are connected. Leaders must create coherent structures within fragmented technology landscapes as a strong data foundation is the most critical factor for successful AI implementation. Without proper structure, agents risk operating in silos or creating new inefficiencies rather than resolving existing ones.

Oversight translates structure into accountability. Leaders must establish clear performance metrics and conduct regular reviews of their digital workforce, applying the same rigour they bring to managing human teams. This becomes essential as organisations scale beyond pilot projects and we’ve seen a significant increase in companies moving from pilot to production, indicating that the shift from experimentation to operational deployment is accelerating. It’s also clear that structured approaches to agent deployment can deliver return on investment substantially faster than do-it-yourself methods whilst reducing costs, but only when proper oversight mechanisms are in place.

To ensure agents learn from trusted data and behave as intended before deployment, training and testing is required. Leaders bear responsibility for curating the knowledge base agents access and rigorously testing their behaviour before release. This addresses a critical challenge: leaders believe their most valuable insights are trapped in roughly 19% of company data that remains siloed. The quality of training directly impacts performance and properly trained agents can achieve 75% higher accuracy than those deployed without rigorous preparation.

Additionally, strategy determines where and how to deploy agent resources for competitive advantage. This requires identifying high-value, repetitive or complex processes where AI augmentation drives meaningful impact. Early adoption patterns reveal clear trends: according to the Salesforce Agentic Enterprise Index tracking the first half of 2025, organisations saw a 119% increase in agents created, with top use cases spanning sales, service and internal business operations. The same research shows employees are engaging with AI agents 65% more frequently, and conversations are running 35% longer, suggesting that strategic deployment is finding genuine utility rather than novelty value.

The critical role of observability

The fifth principle, to observe and track, has emerged as perhaps the most critical enabler for scaling AI deployments safely. This requires real-time visibility into agent behaviour and performance, creating transparency that builds trust and enables rapid optimisation.

Given the surge in AI implementation, leaders need unified views of their AI operations to scale securely. Success hinges on seamless integration into core systems rather than isolated projects, and agentic AI demands new skills, with the top three in demand being leadership, storytelling and change management. The ability to observe and track agent performance is what makes this integration possible, allowing leaders to identify issues quickly, demonstrate accountability and make informed decisions about scaling.

The shift towards dual workforce management is already reshaping executive priorities and relationships. CIOs now partner more closely with CEOs than any other C-suite peer, reflecting their changing and central role in technology-driven strategy. Meanwhile, recent CHRO research found that 80% of Chief Human Resources Officers believe that within five years, most workforces will combine humans and AI agents, with expected productivity gains of 30% and labour cost reductions of 19%. The financial perspective has also clearly shifted dramatically, with CFOs moving away from cautious experimentation toward actively integrating AI agents into how they assess value, measure return on investment, and define broader business outcomes.

Leading the transition

The current generation of leaders are the crucial architects who must design and lead this transition. The role of director of the dual workforce is not aspirational but necessary, grounded in principles that govern effective agent deployment. Success requires moving beyond viewing AI as a technical initiative to understanding it as an organisational transformation that touches every aspect of operations, from workflow design to performance management to strategic planning.

This transformation also demands new capabilities from leaders themselves. The skills that defined effective management in all-human workforces remain important but are no longer sufficient. Leaders must develop fluency in understanding agent capabilities and limitations, learn to design workflows that optimally divide labor between humans and machines, and cultivate the ability to measure and optimise performance across both types of workers. They must also navigate the human dimensions of this transition, helping employees understand how their roles evolve, ensuring that the benefits of productivity gains are distributed fairly, and maintaining organisational cultures that value human judgement and creativity even as routine tasks migrate to digital labor.

The responsibility to direct what comes next, to architect systems where human creativity, judgement and relationship-building combine with the scalability, consistency and analytical power of AI agents, rests with today’s leaders. The organisations that thrive will be those whose directors embrace this mandate, developing the structures, oversight mechanisms, training protocols, strategic frameworks and observability systems that allow dual workforces to deliver on their considerable promise.

Continue Reading

Feature/OPED

Energy Transition: Will Nigeria Go Green Only To Go Broke?

Published

on

energy transition plan

By Isah Kamisu Madachi

Nigeria has been preparing for a sustainable future beyond oil for years. At COP26 in the UK, the country announced its commitment to carbon neutrality by 2060. Shortly after the event, the Energy Transition Plan (ETP) was unveiled, the Climate Change Act 2021 was passed and signed into law, and an Energy Transition Office was created for the implementations. These were impressive efforts, and they truly speak highly of the seriousness of the federal government. However, beyond climate change stress, there’s an angle to look at this issue, because in practice, an important question in this conversation that needs to be answered is: how exactly will Nigeria’s economy be when oil finally stops paying the bills?

For decades, oil has been the backbone of public finance in Nigeria. It funds budgets, stabilises foreign exchange, supports states through monthly FAAC allocations, and quietly props up the naira. Even when production falls or prices fluctuate, the optimism has always been that oil will somehow carry Nigeria through the storms. It is even boldly acknowledged in the available policy document of the energy transition plan that global fossil fuel demand will decline. But it does not fully confront what that decline means for a country of roughly 230 million people whose economy is still largely structured around oil dollars.

Energy transition is often discussed from the angle of the emissions issue alone. However, for Nigeria, it is first an economic survival issue. Evidence already confirms that oil now contributes less to GDP than it used to, but it remains central to government revenue and foreign exchange earnings. When oil revenues drop, the effects are felt in budget shortfalls, rising debt, currency pressure, and inflation. Nigerians experienced this reality during periods of oil price crashes, from 2014 to the pandemic shock.

The Energy Transition Plan promises to lift 100 million Nigerians out of poverty, expand energy access, preserve jobs, and lead a fair transition in Africa. These are necessary goals for a future beyond fossil fuels. But this bold ambition alone does not replace revenue. If oil earnings shrink faster than alternative sources grow, the transition risks deepening fiscal stress rather than easing it. Without a clear post-oil revenue strategy tied directly to the transition, Nigeria may end up cleaner with the net-zero goals achieved, but poorer.

Jobs need to be considered, too. The plan recognises that employment in the oil sector will decline over time. What should be taken into consideration is where large-scale employment will come from. Renewable energy, of course, creates jobs, but not automatically, and not at the scale oil-related value chains once supported, unless deliberately designed to do so. Solar panels assembled abroad and imported into Nigeria will hardly replace lost oil jobs. Local manufacturing, large-scale skills development, and industrial policy are what make the difference, yet these remain weak links in Nigeria’s transition conversation.

The same problem is glaringly present in public finance. States that depend heavily on oil-derived allocations are already struggling to pay salaries, though with improvement after fuel subsidy removal. A future with less oil revenue will only worsen this unless states are supported to proactively build formidably productive local economies. Energy transition, if disconnected from economic diversification, could unintentionally widen inequality between regions and states and also exacerbate dependence on internal and external borrowing.

There is also the foreign exchange question. Oil export is still Nigeria’s main source of dollars. As global demand shifts and revenues decline, pressure on the naira will likely intensify unless non-oil exports rise in a dramatically meaningful way. However, Nigeria’s non-oil export base remains very narrow. Agriculture, solid minerals, manufacturing, and services are often mentioned, but rarely aligned with the Energy Transition Plan in a concrete and measurable way.

The core issue here is not about Nigeria wanting to transition, but that it wants to transition without rethinking how the economy earns, spends, and survives. Clean energy will not automatically fix public finance, stabilise the currency, or replace lost oil income and jobs. Those outcomes require deliberate and strategic economic choices that go beyond power generation and meeting emissions targets. Otherwise, the country will be walking into a future where oil is no longer dependable, yet nothing else has been built strongly enough to pay the bills as oil did.

Isah Kamisu Madachi is a policy analyst and development practitioner. He writes from Abuja and can be reached via [email protected]

Continue Reading

Trending