By Eshioromeh Sebastian
There is perhaps no greater threat to Nigeria’s fragile coexistence than the weaponisation of religion for political ends. What should be a private matter of conscience has become a public instrument of division, wielded with devastating effect by both political and religious leaders. The recent video of Sheikh Muhammad Sani Yahya Jingir is only the latest, and most egregious, example.
Speaking at a gathering in Kano, attended by the Governors of Kano and Jigawa States, the cleric declared his support for a repeat of the Muslim-Muslim ticket, praised President Tinubu as his “political hero,” and described Christians as “infidels.” He urged his followers to obtain their voter cards to “show the infidels their limit.” The governors sat, smiled, and nodded. Not a word of dissent. The condemnations have poured in, but the selective outrage reveals a deeper problem: we condemn the excesses of the other side while conveniently forgetting our own.
In the build-up to the 2023 election, Peter Obi placed a call to Bishop David Oyedepo. Few day later, the audio leaked. In that conversation, Obi described the election as a “battle for the soul of this country.” He went from church to church, telling congregations to “wake up and take back their country.” He framed the election not as a contest of ideas, but as a religious war. Obi understood, just as Jingir does, that faith moves voters in ways that policy never will. He lit the fire and reaped the benefits as seen from the outcome of the election.
The Muslim-Muslim ticket was vigorously opposed by many Christian leaders and groups. The Christian Association of Nigeria maintained a firm stance against the same-faith ticket, stating it was “ridiculous” to suggest they had changed their position . The Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria also warned major political parties against fielding same-faith tickets.
Prominent voices in the Christian community added their voices to the outrage. Cardinal John Onaiyekan, the Archbishop Emeritus of Abuja, made his position clear—he would not vote for a Muslim-Muslim ticket. The Christian Association of Nigeria, under the leadership of the late Rev. Dr. Samson Ayokunle and later Archbishop Daniel Okoh, led the opposition to the same-faith arrangement. The Concerned Catholics in Nigeria also weighed in, condemning Governor Simon Lalong for attempting to invoke the Pope’s name to defend the ticket. This was not mere theological posturing, it was a principled stand against a political decision that many believed would further divide an already fractured nation. The righteous indignation that had filled pulpits and press statements gave way to a convenient silence. This is the tragedy of our political culture—our leaders speak with moral authority only when they are losing. When they win, principles become negotiable.
Sheikh Jingir and those who followed him in 2023 are mirror images of politicians who mobilise the church. Their methods are identical: they weaponise spiritual authority to direct political loyalties, sanctify partisan choices, and demonise those who disagree. This happens every Friday in mosques and every Sunday in churches across Nigeria.
The case of Sheikh Jingir demands a clear response. His remarks were not theological discourse; they were incitement to religious hatred. He must be condemned. Peter Obi, too and others who supported him. He framed the 2023 election as a religious contest, setting a dangerous precedent. The governors who sat smiling while Jingir spoke were not innocent bystanders; their presence conferred legitimacy on his words.
Abraham Lincoln’s warning remains as urgent today as when it was first uttered: “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” Nigeria is divided. Our religious and political leaders have a duty to strengthen the foundations of that house, not to weaken them further. It is time for Sheikh Jingir, Peter Obi, and the rest of them to answer for what they have done. The survival of our nation depends on it.





































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