At 16, I embraced Christianity, determined to defend my faith against the ideological battles I expected to face in university. The diversity of beliefs in my dormitory at the University of Nigeria confirmed that the campus was indeed a marketplace of ideas. However, my confidence in navigating ideological conflicts contrasts sharply with Nigeria’s current descent into religious intolerance, as seen in the brutal murder of Deborah Samuel for alleged blasphemy at a teacher-training institution, the Shehu Shagari College of Education. This tragic event raises disturbing questions about the preparedness of future educators who are meant to foster critical thinking and moral judgment but instead partake in mob violence. If those entrusted with the future of Nigerian students cannot distinguish right from wrong, the nation’s educational system and future generations are in grave danger.
The chaos does not stop at Deborah Samuel’s lynching. Shortly afterward, another young girl in Bauchi narrowly escaped a similar fate for alleged blasphemy. In Abuja, violent clashes between motorbike operators and timber sellers left several dead, with businesses and goods worth billions destroyed. Further south, Anambra witnessed the beheading of a lawmaker, Okechukwu Okoye, along with the slaughter of a woman and her four children. The horror peaked in Owo, Ondo State, where gunmen massacred worshippers at St. Francis Catholic Church during mass. Politicians responded predictably with statements of condemnation and empty promises of justice. President Muhammadu Buhari decried the killings as the work of “fiends from the nether region” and assured the nation that “eternal sorrow awaits them,” both in this world and the next. But this rhetoric offers little consolation to Nigerians grappling with unchecked violence.
What Nigerians demand is not metaphysical justice in the afterlife but tangible action from the government to restore law and order. Crimes escalate because of the impunity that has become normalized in Nigerian society. When lawbreakers face no consequences, others are emboldened to follow suit, and violence spreads. The root of the issue lies in the state’s failure to fulfill its most basic duty—to protect its citizens. Philosophers like Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau have long discussed the social contract, wherein individuals surrender certain freedoms to the state in exchange for protection of their rights. In Nigeria’s case, the state has utterly failed to uphold its end of the bargain.
Nigeria teeters on the edge of anarchy, and the government must either rise to its responsibilities or face the grim reality of disintegration. When a house is on fire, its inhabitants must act to extinguish the flames, not chase after trivial distractions. Yet, the Nigerian government’s response often feels like the latter, leaving citizens to wonder if the state itself is complicit in setting the house ablaze.
