{OPINION} As the Christian Elders Forum speaks, Nigeria must listen carefully
By QUDUS BALOGUN
“Nigeria’s diversity is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be managed with fairness and restraint. Any narrative that casts one religious group as an obstacle to national progress risks provoking resistance rather than cooperation. Peace cannot be built on the fear of domination, nor can unity be achieved by demanding that one faith, region, or culture yield its identity for another’s comfort.”
Recent public statements attributed to the Nigeria Christian Elders Forum have reignited long-standing debates about religion, governance, and national identity. For many Nigerians—particularly Muslims in the North—these statements are not merely policy suggestions but are perceived as confirmation of fears that religion is increasingly being weaponised in Nigeria’s political and security discourse.
For years, groups such as the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN) and now the Nigeria Christian Elders Forum have advanced narratives that many Muslims interpret as questioning their legitimacy within the Nigerian state. The emerging pattern, in the eyes of critics, suggests an attempt to frame Nigeria’s security crisis as a civilisational struggle between Islam and democracy, rather than as a complex problem rooted in governance failures, poverty, corruption, and weak institutions.
Among the positions reportedly advanced by the Christian Elders Forum are the following:
that President Bola Tinubu has a unique opportunity to “reset” Nigeria;
that Nigeria’s crisis stems from an alleged conflict between democratic governance and Sharia law;
that Northern states should abandon Sharia criminal law and revert to the old Penal Code;
that the 1999 Constitution is illegitimate and should be discarded;
and that the 2027 elections should not be conducted under the current constitutional framework.
These positions raise serious questions. To argue that Nigeria’s crisis is fundamentally a clash between democracy and Sharia is, in the view of many Muslims, a dangerous oversimplification. Sharia, as practiced in Northern Nigeria, has existed alongside various political systems and does not automatically negate democratic participation. Framing Islam itself as incompatible with modern governance risks deepening religious mistrust and further polarising the country.
“If Nigeria is to move forward, influential groups—religious elders included—must abandon rhetoric that suggests supremacy, exclusion, or erasure. The country’s future depends not on defeating Islam or Christianity, North or South, but on building a state where no group feels targeted, disposable, or perpetually on trial.”
The call to dismantle Sharia law by invoking the legacy of Sir Ahmadu Bello, the Sardauna of Sokoto, is also historically questionable. The Sardauna was never President of Nigeria, nor was he the ultimate authority over national law. Like Obafemi Awolowo and Nnamdi Azikiwe, he was a regional leader operating within a federal structure. Selectively invoking his name to justify sweeping legal changes across the North, and by extension Nigeria, appears more political than principled.
Equally troubling to critics is the composition of the Christian Elders Forum itself. Figures such as Zamani Lekwot—whose role in past religious conflicts in Southern Kaduna remains controversial—raise concerns about whether the forum truly represents reconciliation or instead revives unresolved historical grievances. For Nigerians who remember those conflicts, the presence of such individuals reinforces the belief that old animosities are being repackaged under the language of reform.
The argument that the 1999 Constitution is illegitimate also rings hollow to many Nigerians when voiced by retired military officers who once governed under that same constitutional order or benefited from it. If the constitution is flawed, critics ask, why is its legitimacy only being questioned now—and why does the proposed alternative appear to target specific religious or regional interests?
Within this context, President Bola Tinubu’s administration faces a delicate challenge. Rumors of alignment with religiously motivated pressure groups have fueled suspicion, particularly in the North, that national unity may be subordinated to sectarian politics. History has repeatedly shown that perceived exclusion—whether real or imagined—can destabilise fragile societies.
Nigeria’s diversity is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be managed with fairness and restraint. Any narrative that casts one religious group as an obstacle to national progress risks provoking resistance rather than cooperation. Peace cannot be built on the fear of domination, nor can unity be achieved by demanding that one faith, region, or culture yield its identity for another’s comfort.
If Nigeria is to move forward, influential groups—religious elders included—must abandon rhetoric that suggests supremacy, exclusion, or erasure. The country’s future depends not on defeating Islam or Christianity, North or South, but on building a state where no group feels targeted, disposable, or perpetually on trial.
Until that lesson is fully embraced, Nigeria will continue to struggle—not because of Sharia or democracy, but because distrust has been allowed to replace dialogue.
© Qudus Balogun is a member Concerned Nigerians Group
