Introduction Nigeria has perfected a ritual that feels suspiciously like a parody of the sacred. A politician long burdened by allegations suddenly “sees the light,” crosses over to the ruling party, and emerges reborn. Their sins are forgiven. Cameras flash! Party elders beam! President’s MANDATE booms in National Assembly! A press statement declares the defector a “man of integrity,” as though integrity were a garment one acquires at the point of entry. This is not politics. It is a misconception of the term absolution. It is theatre disguised as sacrament. A confessional without confession. A redemption without remorse. Within Catholicism and most Christian denominations, absolution depends on genuine contrition. However, in Nigeria's political context, absolution is often interpreted as simply switching allegiance to the party in power. The Theology of Power The president is often hailed as “master strategist,” a phrase that has evolved into something more mystical th...
Nigeria is a nation of ceaseless prayer. From dawn vigils to midnight supplications, Nigerians call upon God with unmatched fervour. Yet, despite this spiritual intensity, corruption, misgovernance, and civic irresponsibility persist. The paradox is stark: Nigerians pray to God like no country, but the gods are not to blame for our stupidity. Ola Rotimi’s classic play The Gods Are Not to Blame offers a haunting mirror. His play, a Yoruba retelling of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex , centres on King Odewale, who unknowingly fulfils a prophecy to kill his father and marry his mother. Despite attempts to escape fate, his downfall comes not from divine cruelty but from human failings, such as anger, ignorance, and denial. This literary lesson deepens the critique of Nigeria’s political and civic culture. In the tragedy of King Odewale, fate sets the stage, but human failings, such as ignorance, pride, rashness bring ruin. Nigeria’s political and civic failures echo this lesson: our decline is...