In recent weeks, Nigeria was shaken by a chilling revelation out of Enugu State, where authorities linked a native doctor—well-known for publicly flaunting wealth—to the murder of multiple individuals. The community responded with horror and disbelief. Yet, as the dust settled, few paused to reflect on how deeply entrenched cultural myths, reinforced by religion and popular media, might have made such atrocities possible. While the case may seem like a horrific anomaly, it is merely a symptom of a long-standing societal problem: the belief that ritual killings can bring wealth.

Sadly, this belief remains a deadly superstition in Nigeria—and it is far from isolated. Countless victims vanish every year, many never to be seen again. Some are found with mutilated bodies, others are dumped in pits, and many simply disappear. The gruesome question lingers: why does this keep happening?

The answer lies in a collective belief system—a dangerous narrative, deeply woven into Nigeria’s religious, cultural, and entertainment fabric.

A Dangerous Belief Shared Across Faiths

Many Nigerians, regardless of religious affiliation, believe in the possibility of acquiring wealth through human sacrifice. While most pastors, imams, and spiritual leaders claim to denounce the practice, the way they frame their sermons often does the opposite. When a pastor dedicates hours each week to “warning” about ritual money, or a cleric speaks in alarmed tones about occult practices, they unknowingly validate the myth. Their message, while intended to condemn, often implies that ritual sacrifice is indeed effective—and widespread.

This indirect validation isn’t limited to the pulpit. In African traditional religious circles, sacrifices and incantations are often accepted parts of spiritual expression. The idea that blood—particularly human blood—can bring supernatural power or wealth continues to thrive in both rural and urban communities.

Nollywood, Comedy, and the Normalization of Ritual Wealth

The Nigerian film industry, Nollywood, has played an outsized role in perpetuating the myth. Many of its earliest and most popular films—Living in Bondage, Circle of Doom, and countless others—center on the theme of “blood money.” These movies often depict young men sacrificing family members to become wealthy overnight. Though presented as cautionary tales, they have the unintended effect of reinforcing the idea that the practice works. In fact, actor Kanayo O. Kanayo’s reputation is so linked with these roles that fans affectionately call him “Nna’anyị Sacrifice” (“Our Father, Sacrifice”).

Comedians, musicians, and influencers also exploit the trope for laughs or clout. But each time someone makes a joke or skit about ritual killings, the line between satire and reality blurs. The myth gains legitimacy, embedding itself deeper into public consciousness.

Even educated Nigerians fall into this trap. Heated debates over whether ritual wealth is real frequently play out online and offline. Many argue that “what you don’t know is bigger than you,” reinforcing ignorance as wisdom.

Ritual Killings Continue Because the Myth Persists

As a result of this widespread belief system, vulnerable individuals become targets. Children, women, travelers, and even guests in hotels face the risk of being kidnapped and killed. Perpetrators may be driven by desperation, greed, or the lure of overnight riches, believing that sacrificing another human can deliver them unimaginable wealth.

Government agencies, of course, are tasked with maintaining law and order. But they cannot be everywhere. Most law enforcement responses occur after a crime has taken place—after a child has gone missing, after a body has been discovered. Even when arrests are made and justice is served, lives are lost forever.

A Global Perspective: Even Strong States Can’t Stop Crime Entirely

Some point to global examples to highlight the limitations of policing. Take the United States, for instance—home to the world’s most advanced law enforcement agencies, including the FBI and CIA. Yet, mass shootings remain a persistent plague. In 2023 alone, there were 604 mass shootings, leaving over 750 dead and more than 2,400 injured. Despite tight coordination, technology, and manpower, law enforcement can’t be everywhere at once.

Data from the U.S. reveals that most mass shootings happen in workplaces and schools. Handguns are the weapon of choice in 70% of incidents, and the perpetrators are predominantly male (95%). Even with extensive data collection, America continues to grapple with the crisis—largely because of its gun culture, supported by the Second Amendment, which guarantees citizens the right to bear arms.

Canada, by contrast, shares the U.S.’s border and colonial heritage, but it does not face a similar crisis. Why? Not because it has more police, but because its culture does not celebrate or normalize gun ownership the way American culture does.

Cultural Change is Key to Safety

So what truly makes a nation or city safe? It’s not the number of security checkpoints or surveillance cameras. Safety is rooted in culture—specifically, in the collective rejection of harmful ideologies.

The same logic applies to Nigeria. Until Nigerians stop believing in the power of ritual money, vulnerable citizens will continue to vanish. After all, how does sacrificing a human being generate money? Does the cash drop from the sky? Does the Central Bank of Nigeria issue enchanted currency to native doctors? Ritual money is a myth—an illusion without logic or evidence.

This myth is as misguided as the belief held by some of our ancestors that charms and sacrifices could protect their kingdoms. Yet, European colonizers overran those very kingdoms, dismantled shrines, and carted away sacred artifacts. The gods and deities did not strike down the invaders. In today’s world, criminals violate churches, mosques, and shrines alike. They kidnap and kill religious leaders and native doctors, sometimes with ease. If those spiritual institutions held real protective power, why do they need bulletproof cars and armed escorts?

The Illusion of “Blood Money” and the False Redemption

Another worrying trend is the idea that wealth—no matter how acquired—can be “cleansed” through religious donations. Some believe that after making money through evil acts, they can redeem themselves by giving to churches, funding mosque projects, or donating to the needy. This is not redemption; it is moral laundering. It gives criminals a false sense of absolution and encourages more crime.

If ritual killing truly brought wealth, then Africa—especially Nigeria—would be home to the world’s richest billionaires. A single sacrifice should be enough to produce the equivalent of billions of dollars. Yet, none of the world’s richest individuals—Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Warren Buffett—relied on rituals. Their wealth is built on innovation, business acumen, and years of work.

Time for a National Reawakening

Bob Marley’s iconic words in Redemption Song ring truer than ever: “Emancipate yourself from mental slavery; none but ourselves can free our minds.” It is time for a collective rejection of superstitions that lead to violence. Education means nothing if it cannot overcome harmful beliefs. In fact, those who hold onto the ritual wealth myth despite being educated should be treated with caution. They are more likely to rationalize murder in the name of personal gain.

To truly end the scourge of ritual killings in Nigeria, change must start from within. Religious leaders must stop referring to such acts as “blood money”—a term that implies legitimacy. Instead, call it what it is: a scam. Ritual wealth is a myth used by criminals to justify murder.

Musicians, filmmakers, comedians, writers, and influencers must take responsibility, too. Their work shapes public opinion. They can help rewrite the narrative by portraying truth, not superstition.

Conclusion: Culture Must Be the First Line of Defense

No police force can fully protect a society from crime if the culture itself enables or justifies it. As long as Nigerians believe that killing another person can bring wealth, criminals will find motivation and victims will continue to suffer.

It is time to cut the myth at its root.

We must shift the national consciousness, not just policy. The day we stop romanticizing ritual wealth is the day we take the first real step toward ending the tragedy it perpetuates.