Opinion
Religion And Rationality Of Purpose (I)
Religion is the belief in a personal God or gods en
titled to obedience and worship. The national government of Nigeria allows for freedom of religion, that is, persons to follow whatever religion one chooses. Therefore, an individual or a group of people have the fundamental right to reject what is unreasonable or cannot be tested by reason in religion or custom.
The only snag is that religion in Nigeria, which is so near to rationality in its purpose, has today fallen so far short of it in its texture and in its results. The reason is attributable to the fact that religion pursues rationality through a process of imagination. The conditions and the aims of life we perceive are poetically represented in religion, but this poetry tends to arrogate to itself literal truth and moral authority, neither of which it possesses. Hence the depth and importance of religion become intelligible no-less-than its contradictions and practical disasters. Its object is the same as that of reason, but its method is to proceed by intuition and by unchecked poetic conceits.
These poetic conceits are repeated and vulgarised in proportion to their original fineness and significance, till they pass for reports of objective truth and came to constitute a world of faith, superposed upon the world of experience and regarded as acceptable religious materials, if not in space at least in time and in existence. The only truth of religion comes from its interpretation of life, from its symbolic rendering of that moral experience which it springs out of and which it seeks to elucidate.
Man’s consciousness in it, is more immersed in nature, nearer to a vegetative union with the general life; it bemoans division and celebrates harmony with a more passive and lyrical wonder. Its false hood however, comes from the insidious misunderstanding which clings to it, to the fact that these poetic conceptions are not merely representations of experiences, but are rather information about experience or reality elsewhere, which strangely, supply just the defects betrayed by reality and experience on earth. Thus religion has the same original relation to life that poetry has; although, poetry never pretends to add a pure value of liberal imaginative exercise to existence.
The poetic value of religion would initially be greater than that of poetry itself, because religion deals with higher and more practical themes, with sides of life which are in greater need of some imaginative touch and ideal interpretation than are those pleasant or pompous things which ordinary poetry dwells upon. But this initial advantage is neutralised in part by the abuse to which religion is subject, whenever its symbolic rightness is taken for scientific truth. Like poetry, religion thinks to confer a more radical benefit by persuading mankind that, in spite of appearances, the world is really such as professed by a given religion rather than the arbitrary idealisation as painted it. This spurious satisfaction is naturally the prelude to many a disappointment, and the soul of believers has infinite trouble to emerge again from the artificial problems and sentiments into which it is thus plunged.
It is obvious that religion is an imaginative achievement, a symbolic representation of moral reality which may have a most important function in vitalizing the mind and transmitting, by way of parables, the lessons of experience. But it becomes at the same time a continuous incidental deception; and this deception is strenuously denied to the proportion of causing indefinite harm in the world and in the conscience.
On the whole, however, religion should not be conceived as having taken the place of anything better, but rather as having come to relieve situations which, but for its presence, would have been infinitely worse.
In the thick of active life, or in the monotony of practical slavery, there is more need to stimulate fancy than control it. We must not blame religion for preventing the development of a moral and natural science which at any rate would seldom have appeared; rather we should appreciate religion for the sensibility, the reverence, the speculative insight which it has introduced into the world.
We may therefore, proceed to analyze the significance and the function which religion has had at different stages, and without condoning its confusion with literal truth, we may allow ourselves to enter as sympathetically as possible into its various conceptions and motions. For instance, religion in Nigeria have made up the inner life of many sages, and of all those who without great genius or learning have lived steadfastly in the spirit. Nevertheless, we must confess that religion have prevailed on thousands of persons in Nigeria who today express total satisfaction with its results and achievements, thanks to a fond partiality in reading the past and generous draughts of hope for the future; but anyone regarding the various religions at once and comparing their achievements with what reason requires, must feel how terrible is the disappointment which they have one and all prepared for mankind. It is a common knowledge, that their major anxiety has been to offer imaginary remedies for mortal ills, some of which are essentially incurable, while others might have been really cured by well directed effort. The Greek oracles, for instance pretended to heal our natural ignorance, which has its appropriate though difficult cure, while Christian vision of heaven, pretended to be an antidote to our natural death, the inevitable correlate of birth and of a changing and conditioned existence. It is obvious that with this method of the religion claims, only little can be done for the real betterment of life.
Fuayefika, a public affairs analyst writes from Port Harcourt.
Tonye Fuayefika
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
