This article discusses why true greatness will remain a mirage unless Nigerians rediscover spirituality beyond empty religion. At 65, Nigeria stands as a paradox. We are a land overflowing with human and natural resources, yet our people wrestle daily with poverty, insecurity, corruption, and disunity.
The gap between promise and reality remains wide. This is not simply a political or economic crisis—it is a spiritual one. For man is more than flesh and intellect; he is spirit, and no nation can experience lasting progress when it forgets its soul.
Man as a spiritual being
From the dawn of civilisation, wise leaders have understood that man is not complete without his spiritual dimension. Political institutions may organise, economic policies may distribute, and technology may advance, but without the moral compass of the spirit, societies crumble.
The Bible declares: “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, yet lose his soul?” (Mark 8:36). Likewise, the Qur’an teaches: “Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves” (Qur’an 13:11). Both affirm that true progress is impossible without inner transformation and spiritual alignment.
History confirms the same. The Roman Empire collapsed not merely because of external invasion but because its moral and spiritual foundation eroded. Development that excludes the spiritual aspect of life is shallow and temporary.
The same principle applies to Nigeria. At 65, we cannot afford to focus only on GDP growth, oil revenues, or political restructuring while ignoring the deeper issue of spiritual renewal, repeat, spiritual renewal.
Our national symbols as spiritual compass
Nigeria’s founding fathers recognised this truth. They embedded spirituality into the very symbols of our nationhood. The National Motto reads: “Unity and Faith, Peace and Progress.” Notice the sequence. Unity is the bedrock, but it cannot stand without faith—faith in God, faith in one another, and faith in our collective destiny. Peace and progress come only after these are secured.
The National Anthem makes the spiritual vision becomes even clearer. “Nigeria, We Hail Thee” (1960–1978; reinstated in 2024): At independence, the anthem proclaimed:
‘Though tribe and tongue may differ, in brotherhood we stand.’ Brotherhood is not merely political—it is a spiritual truth. It reminds us that beyond ethnic and tribal divisions, we are one family under God. “Arise, O Compatriots” (1978–2024) for nearly five decades guided Nigeria with a similar moral compass: “Serve our Fatherland with love and strength and faith.”
It concluded with a prayer: “O God of creation, direct our noble cause, guide our leaders right, help our youth the truth to know.
Both ‘Nigeria, We Hail Thee’ and ‘Arise, O Compatriots’ remind us that Nigeria’s destiny cannot be built on human effort alone—our founding fathers believed progress required divine guidance.” Both anthems insist that Nigeria’s destiny requires more than human effort. Without divine guidance and moral conscience, nation-building collapses.
Spirituality vs. religiosity
Yet, 65 years later, we see a contradiction. Nigeria is one of the most religious countries in the world. Our streets are dotted with churches and mosques. Every Friday and Sunday, worship centers overflow. Yet corruption festers, banditry spreads, tribal suspicion deepens, and public trust declines. This paradox exists because we confuse religiosity with spirituality.
Religiosity is outward. It is measured in rituals, buildings, and noise. It is about identity markers—who attends which church or mosque, who shouts the loudest in prayer. But religiosity often lacks depth; it can mask hypocrisy and even fuel division.
Spirituality is inward. It is about transformation of the heart and character.
The Bible says: “By their fruits you shall know them” (Matthew 7:16). The Qur’an echoes: “The most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you” (Qur’an 49:13). Spirituality produces honesty in business, justice in governance, compassion for the weak, and unity across divides.
Religiosity builds monuments but leaves consciences untouched. Spirituality builds men and women of integrity, and through them, nations of greatness. Nigeria is in a spiritual crisis in today; the evidence is all around us. Despite billions allocated to fight insecurity, banditry continues to terrorise communities in the North-West and North-Central, with kidnappings and killings leaving families in perpetual fear. In the Niger Delta, oil theft drains billions of dollars annually, enriching a few while impoverishing millions.
Corruption scandals—whether in fuel subsidy regimes, pension funds, or government contracts—expose a system where personal enrichment overrides public interest and the common good. Despite overflowing churches and mosques, corruption thrives.
The problem is not lack of religion, but the absence of true spirituality. Furthermore, ethnic and religious clashes, from Plateau to Kaduna, remind us that our sense of brotherhood is fragile. All these are not just mere policy failures; they are symptoms of a deeper spiritual decay—a nation where conscience has been dulled, truth discarded, and greed enthroned. In these connections, there are lessons from Nigeria’s history.
Lessons from the past
Our journey since 1960 offers sobering lessons. In the 1960s, the First Republic collapsed because greed and ethnic rivalry overshadowed a sense of and the desire for national unity.
In the 1970s oil boom, Nigeria squandered unprecedented wealth because leaders lacked the moral compass to invest it wisely. In the 1980s and 1990s, military regimes entrenched corruption and authoritarianism, eroding trust. Since 1999, the return of democracy and all the hopes it embody has been consistently undermined by electoral malpractice, violence, and weak institutions.
Decades down the road, we face today, insurgency, terrorism, and economic hardship, largely engendered by integrity-deficient leadership and fuelled by a general spiritual decline among the populace. At each stage, no matter the constitution, policy, or program, the absence of deep spiritual renewal has hindered progress. For, without truth, justice, and integrity—spiritual values—development collapses.
A call to spiritual renewal
At 65, Nigeria must go back to her spiritual self. This does not mean erecting more religious houses or shouting louder in prayer. It means first, reclaiming our founding values of unity, faith, peace, and progress. Second, we must raise leaders of conscience and character, who fear God, stay on the path of truth, and put the common good above personal gain.
Third, we need to build, nay, become, ourselves, citizens of integrity who daily live in honesty, love, and justice. Fourth, Nigerians must embrace true brotherhood across tribe and tongue, as proclaimed in our anthem. Last but not the least, spirituality must move from pulpit and minaret into boardrooms, classrooms, parliament, and homes.
Conclusion
Nigeria’s destiny is at a crossroads. We the people as the active agents in this respect can continue in hollow religiosity, building more churches and mosques while corruption, violence, and injustice thrive. Or we can rediscover spirituality—authentic, transformative, lives.
Our founding fathers understood that greatness cannot be built on material wealth alone. They enshrined in our symbols a call to faith, brotherhood, and divine guidance. At 65, that call is louder than ever.
The Bible reminds us: “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people” (Proverbs 14:34). Unless Nigerians return to their spiritual core, greatness will remain a mirage. But if we embrace true spirituality—beyond rituals, beyond empty religion—Nigeria can rise, first in righteousness, and other material blessings shall follow.
Then, indeed, this pluralistic, resource-endowed country will, as a nation of shared values, not only stand tall among the nations of the world, but fulfilling her ‘manifest destiny’ as Africa’s leader with a soul.
Very Rev. Fr. Dr Dukiya is a Catholic priest, development scholar and social advocate. He wrote from Lokoja, Kogi State.
