By Dada Ahmed.
It was a simple post on social media, yet it struck a deep chord: “The two most successful industries in Nigeria are politics and religion. The sad reality is the people.” Though short,it is imperative to note that the statement mirrors a profound truth about the nation’s social and economic fabric. In Nigeria, politics and religion are not just institutions; they are enterprises that thrive on the faith, frustration, and fervor of the people.
Nigeria is a country where politics has become one of the fastest routes to wealth and power. From local councils to the National Assembly, public office is often seen not as a call to service but as a ladder to personal enrichment. Political campaigns are branded like business ventures, funded by godfathers and sustained by loyal clients who expect returns once victory is secured.
Religion, on the other hand, has evolved into a booming enterprise in its own right. Churches and mosques spring up at every corner, some genuine sanctuaries of faith, others veritable empires of profit. The faithful, often desperate for miracles in a nation plagued by poverty and insecurity, flock in large numbers to seek solace. In turn, some clerics build immense wealth, political influence, and social status, rivaling even those in government.
The intersection of politics and religion is particularly striking. Politicians court religious leaders for legitimacy, while some clerics openly endorse or even anoint candidates. The pulpit becomes a platform for political mobilization, and the mosque, a meeting ground for
electoral strategy. This blend of ppl the sacred and the secular blurs the line between divine service and personal gain.
At the heart of this reality lies the people, the very citizens whose hopes sustain both systems. Nigerians invest emotional energy in politics and religion more than in production, innovation, or civic responsibility. The ordinary man, often deprived of education, healthcare, and opportunities, turns to these two institutions for survival and identity. Ironically, the same systems that promise liberation sometimes deepen dependency.
This paradox fuels Nigeria’s cycle of underdevelopment. Politicians exploit ethnic and religious sentiments to divide the electorate, while some clerics capitalize on fear and ignorance to tighten control. In both cases, the people remain the tools, emotionally charged, financially drained, and politically manipulated.
Yet, it is important to note that not all politicians or religious leaders are exploitative. There are public servants genuinely committed to reform, and clerics sincerely devoted to moral and spiritual upliftment. Nigeria’s problem, therefore, is not the existence of politics or religion but the way both have been weaponized by a few to the detriment of the majority.
The challenge is systemic. When public service becomes a shortcut to wealth, and faith becomes a transaction, the nation loses its moral compass. The solution lies in reorienting values, shifting from the obsession with quick success to the pursuit of integrity, diligence, and collective responsibility.
Education and civic enlightenment hold the key. A well-informed citizenry will demand accountability from leaders, both political and spiritual. Schools, media, and civil society must promote critical thinking and civic ethics rather than blind loyalty and hero worship. Only through knowledge can citizens distinguish between leadership and manipulation.
Economic empowerment is equally crucial. Poverty breeds manipulation; a hungry man easily becomes a pawn. Governments at all levels must prioritize job creation, vocational skills, and social welfare. When citizens have economic independence, they are less likely to be swayed by empty promises or fake prophecies.
The media, too, has a central role. Instead of merely amplifying political noise or religious sensationalism, journalists should spotlight integrity, innovation, and impact. Balanced reporting and investigative journalism can expose hypocrisy and inspire accountability in both sectors.
Religious institutions themselves must embrace reform. Faith should be a force for moral transformation and social development, not material accumulation. True spirituality uplifts the soul and community, not the bank account. Clerics must return to the essence of service, guiding consciences, not controlling followers.
On the political front, Nigerians must redefine leadership. Elections should not be seen as contests for sharing spoils but as opportunities to choose competent and compassionate individuals. Political education, especially at the grassroots, can help citizens resist the lure of vote buying and ethnic manipulation.
Ultimately, both politics and religion are reflections of society. If the people remain passive, dishonest, or desperate, these institutions will mirror that weakness. But if citizens awaken to their collective power, insisting on truth, justice, and fairness, both systems can become engines of progress rather than instruments of exploitation.
Nigeria’s future depends on this awakening. Politics and religion need not remain industries of manipulation. They can become platforms of transformation,if the people, the real owners of the nation’s destiny, choose to rise from being victims to being visionaries.
Ahmed publishes The Reporters.
ahmeddada008@gmail.com.
